Do as I say but not as I do has thankfully never been a mantra of mine. I truly believe it is so easy to say something but not so easy to be something or do something. Or live by it. But I do like to think I am a good example to my girls of living a life according to my oft sprouted principles. One of which is moderation. Pfffft. Excuse me while I snort. Who have I been trying to kid. Certainly not those who know and love me. Friday night was a fabulous fabulous example of wonderful excess. Moderation schmoderation. You only live once etc etc etc. But. You do have to take responsibility for your choices. For your behaviour. Now that has always been a mantra of mine, and one I am happy to stand by. But as for doing as I say but not as I do, I’d still be ok with my girls doing as I do. I think its called living.
I love a matt red lipstick. I am grateful for the connection I have with a very dear friend who also loves a matt red lipstick. And Audrey Hepburn and New York. And roses. And understated style. And crystal glasses. And single malt. And laughter. And irreverence. As I put my lipstick on tonight I thought of her and a smile played on my lips. We have a history together, a history punctuated with much laughter and love. I am grateful for her friendship, for our forever connection and for her new Skype wizardry.
I realised the other night to be taken seriously, in a networking context, you need a business card. Never mind how bad. It was hilarious as we all stood around with our glass or glasses of champagne the gap in the conversation when my friend and I didn’t whip out our business cards. And seriously it really doesn’t matter what it says, there were some doozies, but you’re nobody without a card. It was such a fabulous moment as my friend and I exchanged glances, fuck, what can we hand over so we’re not left out? I’m joking of course, we really couldn’t care but it was very funny. She offered her visa card but it was not accepted despite being of the most value. And I don’t mean only financial. Anyway, I’ve already started designing mine. Seriously can’t wait for our next event so I can hand mine out. It’s going to be a doozy.
A friend and I were chatting and the description ‘she is classy’ came up. But is she? What is ‘classy’? To my view a classy person is one who treats everyone with respect, treats everyone the same, no matter their so-called status. Who is kind, who puts others at ease, who isn’t brash, who values their own and others inner beauty as much as their outer beauty, who enhances what they have tastefully, who never displays their assets in a vulgar manner, be they physical or financial. Who is consistent, genuine, authentic and real. Who is honest. And especially who believes all are equal, who never ever believes they are better than anyone else. A classy person is most definitely not one who feels they are better simply because of the car they drive, the clothes they wear, the religion they follow, the job they do, the school their children go to, the size of their bank accounts or the area they live in. That, in my view is the opposite.
This again. I had a chat this weekend about the one thing that keeps coming up since I started sharing some stuff. The notion of honesty. Well more of being honest. Of sharing truth, that isn’t always flattering. And how taken aback some people are by it. I think my thin blog made some people uncomfortable, cos it’s just not cool to admit to being that self absorbed when the issues the world face are so vast. I agree. But we are and we do. If only we had the courage to say so. It would make it so much easier to be ourselves, to be kind to ourselves, if we didn’t have to keep up with the often dishonest realities of our perfect friends. Those who seem to have the perfect lives, with the perfect relationships and the perfect attitudes to weight, religion, work, education, their children, discipline etc etc. According to what they share they never put a foot wrong. Bullshit. It would be so much kinder if we all shared, not only how we wished we were, but how we really are too. I really do love B and who we are and I wish we were always kind to each other but sometimes we just suck at this relationship stuff. We didn’t talk nicely to each other this whole weekend. I can’t really remember why, something about him not going to Dan Murphy’s when I wanted him too and me not taking my tablets for three days. And that was before he told me he was off to Adelaide for the week. I didn’t need to share that with you, and probably some of you wonder why I did. I’m not sure. Just because its the truth, and maybe someone will feel better about being a little off centre too. That’s just life. Let’s be kinder to each other by dropping the pretence. It’s such a waste of time.
This was my card from B. The small print says…But I really love you all of the time. Happy Birthday. Me. X. I won’t pretend it didn’t piss me off at first. It did. But actually, it was the perfect card. We have both been pissing each other off the last couple of days, just normal couple crap. And it is normal. To have crap I mean. This is the world we live in. Not in the other world that many only share. The world that makes you look at your normal relationship filled with good and crap and wonder what’s wrong with you. Why can’t you be so in love and nauseatingly happy all the time too. Nothing is wrong with you. As long as you are honest. So, if any of you have felt envious of B and I because we have the most fabulous of relationships. Don’t. We don’t and I honestly don’t believe they exist. Not if you are truly honest with yourselves and the real world. But, if you want to envy our honesty. You can. Because of that I am proud. It is what it is. Life is what it is. I wish people would just stop pretending. So, I love my card. It is honest. A schmaltzy we are so fabulous aren’t we and you are the best person on the planet card, would not have been. I don’t like B some of the time either, but I do love him, yes, all of the time.
Chatting to Helen into the early hours of today made me realise how blessed I am to have her for a mother-in-law. I am grateful for the relationship we enjoy. We discuss everything from the girls, to politics, to B, to religion, to computers, to pscyhology, to books, to education, to relationships. In fact, life. I value her opinion, not only because it is honest and informed, but because, even at 83, she is more openminded than most.
I am finding this all quite interesting. People’s genuine curiousity, amazement, wierded outness, desire to share and even the complete silence. Actually the complete silence from some is particularly interesting. It takes some doing to put yourself out there. And I don’t mean by blogging. I mean by being honest. And the question on some people’s minds it seems, is why would you. Which has to make me consider. Why am I doing this? Honestly, I was, am, a spoilt brat. With so much to be grateful for, but not honestly seeing it. Why, why not, why me, why not me, why here, why him, why them, why now. A favourite quote of mine ‘be still. cease your relentless partcipation’ comes to mind. I know I do that. Especially before. Kept myself ever so busy doing ever so important things with ever so important people so I wouldn’t have to spend too much time with me. Now I am in this wonderful place with this wonderful opportunity to simply celebrate what is. And still I so often think about what I haven’t got, not what I have. What is with that. I am a spoilt brat. So, the grateful stuff is my being still for a moment. The other stuff is me experimenting and not being anonymous anymore. Honesty is good. Sharing is therapeutic. Not trying to be clever is essential.
I told a friend about my blog today. I saw her think about it a bit. Then she asked, isn’t it odd to have your life exposed for others to see. I responded with it’s me who’s doing the exposing. It’s my choice to share. I suppose it is a bit confronting for some, but for some reason I’ve always been comfortable exposing myself. And any comments about advertising agency parties as a reply to this post will be ignored. By exposing I mean being generous in my response to questions. Definitely over generous. I’m not really sure why. Maybe I’m just self absorbed. I’m hoping it’s because I have nothing to hide.