Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Dear Readers

I was raised in a particular way, a very British way. There aren't all that many people who could (or perhaps even would) be able to define that, that have the ability to see the division between "British" and "English." Australians, it should be noted in a overgeneralised sense, have no concept of what being British entails. British people recognised class and the structure that brought to society, we united under a reigning Monarch and our national anthem changed to reflect the gender of the Monarch at the time.

British people are also terribly apologetic about a great number of things - and at this point I want to note that not everything a Briton apologises for he or she feels at fault over. If we gave you the wrong amount of change, we would apologise. If we had run out of newspapers and couldn't sell you The Times upon request, the apologies would make even the most unsympathetic customer blush. Had the customer also been British, there would be an apology for asking for a newspaper when the owner had sold their last copy prior hence causing some degree of shame and effusive apologies.

Once, at an airport, someone rammed me from behind with their shoulder; not enough to label it a "shoulder charge" but a definite collision of two people. I turned and I said I was sorry. Fellow traveller kept going and in a fit of disgust I said (more loudly than I would normally dare) "but it appears I am the only one who is."

Over the last, let us say "year", there has been a gentleman who has been in and out of my life. We started to, dare I say, date. This was short-lived and the termination was his idea based on my not fitting quite into his concept of a relationship. More specifically (and if you want to keep an air of mystery around me, do skip to the next bit without delay) the issue of sex before breakfast. I was against, and he was very much for. This issue led to a conversation about differing sex drives and after that phone conversation the budding "relationship" was over.

A cat-and-mouse game has been played out over the course of the "year" and I was no doubt in a bad mood when I met A for breakfast. Mood was not appeased by his apparent lack of interest in active listening and attempting to understand where I might be coming from on any issue that chose to raise its head.

Most recently emailing very facebook has been the medium for discussing the possibility of restarting the "relationship" with him acknowledging some hastiness on his part ending attempt one. A, is a nice person, I stand by that - not without fault, but I have nothing nasty to say about his character. When confronted with an email suggesting he felt he was being held at arms-length by myself, I responded with the email that took the blame for that, and I did indeed use the line "a lot of things on my mind." My fingers ached to type "it's not me, it's you." Space of time was given for "thinking" about these things and when I felt I could put it off no longer i sent an email saying that despite my desperate desire to be the bigger person and forget how quickly I was dumped originally I just couldn't and wasn't I a terrible person for not being able to recover from that and that it caused me an amount of sorry. To the world in general, this blog and it's reader I would like to announce - "it's not me, it's A" I honestly feel completely justified in saying "No, no thank you." to him. I do have a certificate of citizenship - maybe I could actually have said, "P**s off mate, I think you're a f***w*d."

I have fears that A is mentioning my name to people in a less than favourable light - that would be disappointing.

1 comment:

Mr Subtle said...

"I have fears that A is mentioning my name to people in a less than favourable light - that would be disappointing."
If he is, dear Rob, then the people who follow his words aren't needed in one's life. People who refuse to form their own opinions, especially on a fellow human being, are a waste of precious oxygen.

Sometimes, the nice ones just have a few too many quirks. A nice one who plays the "cat-and-mouse" game, really isn't all that nice. At least, that's my opinion. Take it with lots of red and the odd steak.

Smile boy, being British isn't all that bad. You could have been dragged up "Oz-trawl-lian" and we all know how horrible that could be!