Important notes to Self


Consensus is that I should leave the professional blogosphere to its own chest-beating devices, and instead let this site be a personal forum for me to discuss my musings and goings-on, and occasionally show my hobby achievements — not for any ulterior career motive, but just for the sheer infant delight of holding up a brightly colored scribble, for no other reason than to say, “Look what I did!”

That suits me fine. Loathe as I was to leave behind shiny attributions like ‘freelancer’, ‘designer’, and ‘professional’, there’s something overwhelmingly wonderful about kicking my shoes off, flopping unceremoniously onto the couch, and feeling free to say how much my back hurts.

Of course, with this new Blog Plan of comfortable informality, will come the inevitable mention of the B-word: Baby. And if the whole point of this blog is to be a personal forum, I can make no apologies for that — despite remembering very well how vehemently disinterested I was in hearing about such things, when it didn’t feature in my own foreseeable future.

At that time, being unable to identify with it, I saw mums and mums-to-be as an irritating collection of people who have somehow lost the ability to even see a world past their own children, much less be interested to talk about it. Even more frustrating was their apparent belief that everyone else must surely be as obsessed with their children as they themselves are, so their every mention of their child’s first step/word/fart must surely be met with infinite delight from readers.

Maybe I should just resign myself now, to the possibility that I might become like that. After all, I have no idea what all nature’s odd manipulative chemicals will do in the name of ‘maternal instinct’. On this side of Bump’s expected arrival — still six weeks away — I can only hope I’ll retain some semblance of self. I’m interested in other things now, so why shouldn’t I still be interested in them later? Even if I will have less time to actually partake in them.

Gripped with paranoia now, I feel I should leave a message to my future self, in case she does become one of these short-sighted folk:

You have a name — it’s not ‘Mum’, it’s ‘Eve’. Although you love Bump (he’ll probably have a different name later), remember that you’re more than just Bump’s Mum. You have different fingerprints, a different lifestyle, and a different diet. You’re particularly thankful about this last point.

You like to have music playing in the background as you work around the house. You have no particular music taste, taking a piece of everything, but you don’t have much tolerance for rap.

You don’t like ‘graphic novels’. They’re not novels, they’re pictures. You like a good Garfield strip, but on no level equate it with literature.

You’re not a dog person. They smell, they drool, and they sniff your crotch. You like birds, cats (but your preference for the first obviously keeps you from being able to have one), and foxes.

You almost always choose savoury over sweet. You don’t like fizzy drinks.

You like to read fantasy, sci-fi, and supernatural thrillers. You have to live in the real world — why should you also read stories in that setting, in your leisure time?

You like to feed ducks.

You don’t like sports. Either to watch or to do.

You like to go to cafes, settle down with a coffee and a savoury thing, and people-watch. This involves making up histories for them, and reasons they’re there.

You can be kinda precious about spelling and grammar. Even now, you’re growling in your throat because this blog window keeps ‘correcting’ your words to American spelling as you type.

You regard showers as more than just a hygiene-maintenance chore. They’re an opportunity to feel empowered as you imagine the water is battery acid that you are not only unharmed by, but actually draw strength from. It’s your superpower. If you’ve had a bad day, it’s also why you take so long in there.

You like to drive. Manual transmissions, preferably. And if you’re feeling angry, you like to drive with Evanescence playing very loudly.

You need to blog because if you don’t, you feel like your brain is dying.

Good luck, and Godspeed.


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