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Sunday, 27 January 2008

Well naming....


My mother, the wisest woman in the whole world - no really she was - used to say to me - “Do not name the well from which you will not drink.” What does that mean? It means do not declare that you will never do something without being very sure the possibility will never occur where you will have to actually do the thing you swore you would never do. Yes, that's complicated Amarinda-ese which means – think before you say something you will regret later on.

I am a great 'namer' of wells. Being the drama queen that I am I make sweeping statements in the true Scarlett O’Hara fashion that I then have to extricate myself out of later. I raise my fist to the sky and declare I will not do X,Y or Z and then I go out of my way to make sure I don’t. This does not always work and one of those wells has just come back to haunt me. Bugger. Unfortunately, other than joining some tambourine banging cult, I cannot see how I am going to save my stupid arse. No, I’m not going to share it with you and no it‘s nothing dangerous or illegal - just frigging annoying and somewhat icky to be called upon it. So, this got me thinking, how do you, dear blog reader, extricate yourself from messy situations? Or are you too smart to name wells?

Generally, I have two fail safes - I lie and deny all knowledge of having said or done whatever if was - or I burst into tears. I am very good at crying on the spot. Academy award winning in fact and it requires no Hollywood writers. In saying that - I hope the writers win. Anyway, Ethel, best friend, says it’s almost as good as my innocent “who me” look. That is a classic look. I play the innocent wronged and misunderstood woman so well. If that fails then I go for the ugly, sobbing “my world is falling apart cry because you don’t believe how sweet and innocent I am.” It does work because it’s only ever used on men as they can’t handle the ugly cry. Remind me when we meet and I’ll do the ugly cry and you’ll see what I mean.

What’s that you say? Bite the bullet and face up to the truth? Hmmm…the truth…that’s an interesting concept.…hmmm…no, I don‘t think I'd feel comfortable using it. I have heard that some people use the truth and it works for them. My problem is I have never been ’some people.’ Yes, I have been wrong many a time in my life and yes, truth has its place if it will not get you in trouble. However I feel, at this stage

of my life, admitting the truth would ruin the whole fabric of my being and most likely give me a leg cramp. What I think I may do is act vague and pretend I have no understanding or recollection of the pesky ‘named well.’ I can carry vague on for at least two to three weeks. In that time I am hoping the person in question will forget or be so frustrated they’ll give up. Fingers crossed for me.

So, onto other stuff….

Ida spat the dummy today – daughter of a motherless goat. Who is Ida? Ida is my car. For reasons only known to herself she refused to start in a blazing hot car park at the local shopping centre. Bitch. I am sure I saw a smirk on her front grill. Anyway, after swearing profusely, me, not the car, I called the local automobile club and summoned a man hence. The electronic wiring do-hickey in the brake light thingy is stuffed – this means that I cannot put the car in gear because it shuts down everything else as a safety thing.

Double bugger. A tow truck would have to be called. Triple bugger. So, after some “my aren’t you such a wise and knowledgeable man - and you would have to be terribly fit to do this job” chat, the mechanical type person said he could hot wire it in such a way that it would work until I could get it to another mechanical type person on Tuesday (Tomorrow is a public holiday – hallelujah and pass the gin). So I have this sequence of things I need to do to start the car. If I don’t do it in the right order worlds apparently collide and the penises drop off all men. Hmmm…bit of power there…

Work – its okay – who knew there was that much to know about steel? It’s all much more than knives and forks. Steel is big complex, heavy things that do other things when put on or locked together with bits of steel stuff – yes, haven’t I grasped the technical talk well? It’s very complicated and my brain hurts after a day of thinking but the people are exceptionally nice. I have to say that as they have discovered who I am in my other life and they may be reading this. Yes, they have discovered I am Bat Girl…no, wait, that’s my other, other life…no, that I am a romance writer. Buff nails, fluff hair, swallow gin. It was one of those things I mentioned casually in passing to one person then suddenly everyone knew. That’s okay though because I cannot work in a job where there is no office grapevine. It would be morally objectionable to all that I hold dear. I have driven them quite mad in the past week as they are speaking a language I have no concept of. Nice to be able to drive people mad though. I always enjoy that.

Anny is talking about her favorite things on www.annycook.blogspot.com – you know raindrops on roses and whiskers on women. Kelly is discussing the possibilities of Pixies running for government and should the benches in parliament be raised or lowered to accommodate them on www.kkirch.blogspot.com.

www.freewebs.com/amarindajones
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?

8 comments:

Anny Cook said...

Ah, yes. I quit naming those wells a while back. One of my famous wells was "Once my children leave home, they will never move back in with me..." Um, after the revolving door for several years, I quit saying that. Hmmmm. They haven't been back since. See? It works.

Your mother was very wise.

Brynn Paulin said...

I, unfortunately, name wells all the time. I really need to learn to stop it.

Sorry to hear about the car :-(

My office grapevine is a bit lacking. The sole member knows everything about me. Perhaps I should start making things up...

Sandra Cox said...

Sorry about Ida:(
Glad you're working with nice folks:)
I admire people who can bend the truth on demand. Its called thinking on your feet. Something I'm very bad at. I'm a midnight philosopher. At that point in time I have the perfect comeback. When I do try to stretch the truth a bright neon sign starts blinking on my forehead and everyone knows it:)
sc

Kelly Kirch said...

Damn. Does this mean you cannot gos on all the people at the office?

barbara huffert said...

I want to follow you around and take notes. I bet it would be most enlightening.

Molly Daniels said...

By all means, deny, deny, deny...until you can no longer deny and have to fess up...

In 1987, after meeting D, I informed my then-boyfriend "I will never go out with him; he's not my type"...well, four years later I not only went out with him, I married him! Ah yes...foot in mouth...unfortunately, it's a bad habit!

lyntaylor said...

I usually forget the names of my wells about 30 seconds after I name them LOL! It seems it's not just my dad who has dementia ;)

Muffin Puffin said...

hmm...an action romance involving a mermaid and a werewolf. *grin*

muffinpuffinstuffin@gmail.com