Blogging Tips!!! Poetry please (or if you don't please)

Here I am, sat at my laptop, glass of wine next to me, trying to improve my blog.  I have searched a number of sites on 'how to' but, 'alas' I am obviously not intelligent enough or knowledgeable in computerspeak.  I thought I had done exceptionally well to set up the blog, use a template and add the odd photo (and even that was riven with problems - I kept either deleting ones I didn't want to delete or found the ones I had were much too big or too small!)  Believe me, I have and continue to try, but I am rather daunted by the number of others who obviously understood what was said in the tips offered by the Blog Doctor or other clever bloggers.

Instead of moaning on about my lack of skill and whether I really want anyone to read my blog - perhaps people won't like it and might leave rude comments about it etc. etc. I have put one of my poems in here.

Mother Mable - with apologies to Lewis Carroll

You are old, Mother Mabel,

  The young woman said

Put your teeth in a glass overnight

 And yet you continue to dance on the table 

Do you think at your age that is right?

In my youth, quoth the old one

  As she jumped on a bike

I had to be good and polite

  But now I am old and have no-one to please

I shall do whatever I like!

Learning and 'you can teach an old dog new tricks'

I am learning to play piano at my great age which I shan't reveal - suffice it to say ad that I am over 40!  I haven't the money to pay for a teacher and am struggling along with books and a small organ.  So far, I have managed to  play Ode to Joy with one hand, Three Blind Mice, For He's a Jolly Good Fellow and Drink to me only with Thine Eyes with two as well as a few obscure tunes which I hope to recognise in due course.  When I first played Ode to Joy laboriously I didn't recognise the tune at all - it was only when I got into the rhythm that I did. I sincerely hope the same thing will happen with them.  Now that I am more comfortable with playing and am more committed to practising I shall see about getting a few lessons to help me along.

Then I got to remembering when I learnt to drive and I was over 30 then.  I have to say that it was faintly embarrassing to be instructed by a pony-tailed young man with acne who called me 'babe'.  Anyway, he was a good instructor and by the time I tried again to have lessons, having struggled and failed tests the previous year, I had to 'parallel park' something I am hopeless at to this day.  I struggled with it particularly and the third time I failed it was because I shot backwards trying to park and the examiner had to put his foot on the brake.  I said 'I  almost hit the pavement, didn't I?' and he replied with unconscious irony that it had been the tree he was concerned about. (I hadn't even seen the tree).  My youthful instructor had warned me that if the examiner had to intervene (i.e. brake for you) it would be instant failure.  Eventually, I passed the fourth time and was so ecstatic that I almost got knocked down by a passing car as I leapt out of the driving seat.  Then I couldn't drive the family car because it was a hot hatch and they wouldn't insure a 'new' driver, but that's another story.  I think it might have been easier if I had learnt at 17 - certainly less embarrassing.

I remember, also, the advent of Word replacing Wordperfect - us secretaries were very anxious about having to change to Word and I recall one of the IT men saying that if he heard one more person say 'but it doesn't have reveal codes' he would jump out of the window.  Now, of course, I can't imagine using anything else, but we were all very disturbed about the change.  I realised then that it isn't just 'old dogs' but the whole of man/womankind that fears change.  Incidentally, maybe we should come up with a new word to replace 'old dogs' given the  use of  dogs as a derogatory term for women - or maybe we should stop using the expression  altogether.

My next challenge is Windows 7 - I have been on the previous incarnation for years.  I can see that it is very clever and that there are things you can pin on to your worktop etc., but I am really struggling.  My partner says it is because I refuse to look at the instruction which is of course worded in computer-speak and I always find manuals a yawn.  Anyway, he can talk - I don't think he looked more than cursorily at it.  There is a video of course, but I usually find myself distracted by the way the person talks or the way they look or something which only goes to show, I suppose, my small concentration span.  I will get it in the fullness of time ...

My partner, being a sailor, tried to teach me how to sail but I couldn't grasp the wind and how they affected the way the sails worked etc., although I did love just sitting on the deck enjoying the experience.  It didn't help much that I didn't actually know which way went out to sea and which towards London - bit of a disadvantage for boating.  However, I did learn to steer - a kind, patient man was able to teach me - encouraging, since my partner couldn't. Sadly he is a very impatient teacher and thinks if he can do it anybody can!

Anarchy/Government/Voting and the rest of it

I have never considered myself to be particularly interested in politics, but it is hard to escape the forthcoming election and decide how to vote or indeed whether to bother to vote at all.  It is hard to respect  MPs who have lied and cheated about their expenses, and I really wish we had been supplied with a list of those who didn't play fast and loose with them.

The mess that successive governments have made of the economy, the health service, the schools, housing etc. - the list goes on and on so that is difficult to make a case for having government at all.  Perhaps we should try anarchy which would make a change from our British apathy.  Maybe we need to have a revolution - there never has been a serious one in this country, but we came pretty close in the Poll Tax riots.  Pity serious marches and demonstrations are ignored - there have been marches against the Iraq war, but nothing has been done to curb it.

All very depressing and enough to send people running for cover - easier for the rich to decide to desert for another country or a handy tax haven.  Whoever said life was going to be fair?

My drug of choice and how to manage my disease

The word 'disease' is an interesting one - meaning literally 'dis-ease' being uncomfortable with something and I must say that bipolar/manic depression is an extremely uncomfortable illness.  My drug of choice (apart from the medication I am usually on) is reading and I read obsessively when I am feeling really down.  However, my concentration is knackered and I find myself reading and re-reading the same pages.  When I feel up I still enjoy reading, but I am not so obsessed with it.

I am enormously grateful to Stephen Fry for his frankness about his bipolar condition as this means I no longer feel quite so guilty about my own behaviour/inability to work etc.  The only way I can describe my depression is I feel like I am wading through treacle; it is almost impossible to put one foot in front of the other.  I can barely get out of bed, don't want to socialise, don't want to look at my post or e-mails and generally behave in a 'head under the duvet' manner.  I am fortunate in having a lovely man who enjoys cooking so that at least I eat.  If I was on my own I doubt I would eat or drink adding malnutrition to my other difficulties.   Sadly, he has an aversion to housework (as do I at the best of times) so our home becomes uncontrollably messy, but I can tackle that when I feel better.

This last down draught has been rather drawn out, especially as I thought trying some of the exercises cognitive therapy has taught would help me more.  However, the therapist said that I had 'too high expectations' this time.  One day ...

Dismal Doris - Depression

Feeling very Dismal Doris at present. When I am up I can scarcely remember feeling down - when down feeling high seems a faraway event. This is the first time I have ever blogged when down in the depths - well, that is not quite true; I must be feeling a tiny bit better to even attempt it. I wouldn't mind losing the highs if the lows went as well.  I am on medication to ensure that I don't get too manic - the health professionals seem far more concerned about that - presumably because they think I might hurt myself as I can compromise my safety (my ability to gauge events/circumstances becomes erratic at times).  Unfortunately, while I have lost most of the mania, the  lows are the same as ever - occurring often and causing me a great deal of unhappiness.

In the course of my down phases, I have gone bankrupt, lost my job and now have to exist on very little money. However, that is to be expected and it is true that getting back to basics is no bad thing - as long as there is food on the table and there is a roof over my head, I am grateful for small mercies.


Meanwhile, I am giving some thought to what I want to do with my life - at my age, that is rather surprising I suppose.   However, we can all dream - castles in the air are fine, as long as you don't move into them.

Malapropisms – expressions & language

The other day a friend of mine said ‘he was footless’ – when referring to a drunk. It took me a few minutes to realise she meant ‘legless’ and I suppose it could be a new word which means much the same thing. Then I got to thinking of ‘footloose’ – now there’s an expressive word meaning exactly what it ‘says on the tin’. It’s rather a nice expression and describes a beautiful picture of freedom to my mind.

From there I am now thinking about our very interesting use of slang and idioms. I remember being out with a group of Korean visitors on one occasion. They all spoke very good English and understood most of what we said, but one of them asked what a ‘bit of a do’ meant – an expression I had used without thinking. I explained it meant a party and he was very puzzled that I hadn’t said that in the first place!

Then there's that wonderful phrase 'moveable feast' - as a child I thought it meant picnic and still think that could be one of its meanings, but referring to timing of meals it's brilliant

There are words that mean different things too – for instance oversight can mean being left our or forgotten/overlooked, but it can also mean ‘keeping an eye on’. The two meanings are opposite and yet the same word ecompasses both meanings.

Then there are words that just sound what they mean – what better word than ‘doleful’ it sounds so sad - I see a picture of a bell tolling dismal news. Dismal also sounds how it is pronounced, but the tone of ecstasy and euphoria sound wonderfully exciting and hyper.
Then I got to thinking about the weird things that I get wrong sometimes - the Oyster card for buses and tubes in London I have been know to call the Octopus card and have got some very strange look when I say it.  I also enjoyed using acronyms from the 80s (when I was probably the only person in the UK who failed to make money) such as - WOOP - Well Off Older Person (or did I make that up?)  I remember telling my parents (now deceased, sadly) that that was their status at the time.
Not sure I like the craze for certain words like 'wicked' 'cool' taken to mean much the same and I think eclectic is over- used. But then I like some of the American expressions which I find particularly funny such as 'putting your arse on the line' and 'awesome' said with an American accent always makes me laugh.  I also like the the 'y'all' used mostly by Texans I believe and 'you guys' encompassing male and female is great; also 'sidewalk' is so much better than 'pavement'.


And now I really must sign off - my man says my stream of consciousness can be a bit much for him (but usually it is spoken to/at him and the so and so tunes out).  I hope writing it instead might improve our relationship - well, I live in hope.


I used to look the 'jolly hockeysticks' expression to describe happy and well-spoken women, but there are less and less boarding schools where I think the words started from.

Obsession

As a bipolar I know a lot about obsession. When I am down I obsess about myself and what is wrong with me to a morbid extent, very occasionally to the extent where I consider suicide. However, this is not something I want to dwell on.

OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) is the new buzzword for something that has been around probably for centuries, but naming it doesn’t make it is any less dangerous or uncomfortable. To those who have obsessive behaviour patterns like constantly washing their hands or having routines that mean leaving the house takes hours are obsessions that seriously impede their lives.

I obsess in small ways and have only just recognised that I do – for instance, being what I proudly think of as a wordsmith means I can find myself thinking of words that sound the same and counting how many I can list in my head – for instance: isle, bile, dial, file, guile, mile and then we come to Nile and I can’t decide whether to allow it, because it is the name of a place. This thought goes through my mind ‘shall I, shan’t I?’ until I finally think ‘this is my head and my list – what does it matter whether I allow it or not?’ But it doesn’t stop me doing the same thing on another day, another time.

Perhaps obsessions are ways of avoiding reality or just coping with the tedium of everyday life – could be either, could be both. All I know is that my most dangerous obsession is with myself in the middle of a depressive episode.

I also obsess about things that happen that upset and unsettle me, but then perhaps we all do. For instance, when an outstanding debt had been dealt with months back and someone from a bank or building society call centre telephoned to ask about it yet again I become incandescent with rage. I suppose it is actually caused by fear – if they haven’t accepted or noticed the arrangements I have made to pay maybe the bailiffs will come! I must say I do find the incompetence of institutions now where nobody seems to be in charge incredible! In the end I had to write to the Financial Ombudsman to make a complaint – this would not have been necessary had all the agencies dealing with the debt spoken to one another!

Being told by someone who looks as it they are just out of school that my loan has not been approved seems incongruous to say the least – it happened to me a few years ago when I asked or suggested that I be interviewed by the Bank Manager. Somehow, it wouldn’t have been quite so humiliating to be turned down by a stern-faced man in suit and tie. It was hard to take from a young man in casual clothes who merely consulted a computer screen before saying in effect ‘the computer says ‘no’’.

I become obsessive about my lack of facility in the home – our home looks, well ‘lived in’ is the politest way I can put it. My partner wishes that I would become obsessed with housework and we could have a clean house in consequence, but there is no chance of that.

Several years ago I helped with the Census – delivering and collecting forms and all the necessary paperwork involved. I didn’t notice I was becoming obsessed, but my partner did and now I look back I can see that I did. It was a strange but interesting experience, though – on one occasion a homeless man chased after me demanding a form because he should be on the census too. I agreed with him, but there was no room in the census for people on the streets. I could only deliver to addresses! Perhaps had he had a tent erected it would have been possible – and now I’m obsessing about that – wondering how many people can’t vote. There must be a fair number and is that fair? No it isn’t.

Then there is my obsession with getting my diary absolutely perfect – daily date headings in bold for instance and when I find for some inexplicable reason that my headings have changed or the line spacing I can get into a rage. Crazy, really, since I am the only person who ever looks at it – it is for me to try to get a handle on my feelings, remind me of what I did the previous day etc. etc.

I am presently doing a college course and I spend hours trying to get my homework right. We are supposed to do 200 to 500 words and if mine goes over, as it often does (about 300 to 400) I spend ages taking things out.