AFTER much dramatic flinging myself around the house, teeth gnashing, hand wringing and flamboyant use of the word ‘fuck’ I’ve decided to start a blog.
Well, restart anyway. I used to blog under another guise a few years ago but gave it up as a bad job. Mainly because I got a boyfriend and a weekly column in a newspaper to write about him and decided I was too good for this online jiggery pokery.
Until this week, when my newspaper column was cancelled.
It was a shock, the news delivered quickly and directly, in a phonecall, almost like ripping off a plaster – the initial ‘yowsa’ followed by the sharp sting of disappointment.
I’m not sure why it was cancelled – it could have been a cost cutting exercise, it could have been because the readers no longer enjoyed it, it could have been simply because it was no good. Whatever the reason, it’s dead and gone.
“FUCK!” I shouted out to Yer Man, slamming down the receiver “what the FUCK am I going to FUCKING do now?”
He looked at me, sympathetically, knowing me too well to open his mouth, knowing the question was rhetorical.
“I’m ACTUALLY asking you,” I railed furiously at him “what the FUCK am I going to do now without the column?”
He suggested a blog, soothing me, patting my ruffled feathers and bathing my battered ego in hugs and kisses, joining in with my frequent explosions of ‘fuck’ and ‘fuckit anyway’ quite enjoying himself.
So here I am, tail between my legs, back where I started, beginning the endless slog of begging for links, whoring myself out for blog traffic, obsessing over my stats and figuring out what RSS is (answers on a postcard please).
I’ve subtitled this ‘The diary of a slightly touched bride’ and I suppose that’s what this space is going to be. I’m getting married next year, exactly 12 months from today in fact and so have decided to document that. It won’t all be weddings though, this is a personal blog, so there’ll also be a bit of whatever else takes my fancy. That’s the beauty of a blog, it can be whatever it decides to be.