Saturday, July 21, 2007

This, finally, is that thoughtful concise little post so rudely interrupted by the book quiz fiasco at Ario's

On loving and missing someone:

it hurts.

37 comments:

Anna MR said...

Dear reader, friend or stranger - I won't be here for the next couple of days to answer any comments you may leave. Don't, however, let that discourage you from dropping me a note or a longie, telling me how you love and miss me, or indeed whatever else happens to come to your mind. Normal reply services will be resumed soon.

x

NMJ said...

I am loving you and missing you already.

x

trousers said...

Me too.

But Why? said...

I concur. With everything.

But x

Mellifluous Dark said...

Me, too, my taggy-bloggy friend from Finland.

And the first thing that comes into my mind is the word 'glisten'. (Well, you did ask, sort of...)

I shall leave you with that.
x

Reading the Signs said...

Loving and missing someone does hurt. Jeanette Winterson says something about loss being the measure of love.
I hope you are well even so, dear you, doing good things for yourself. x

fykjtyt, my dear, I simply had to pass on. Take it in the best way.

Anna MR said...

Dearest all:
NMJ
housut
But
Ms Dark
Signsy Kolmio
-
thank you kindly for your lovely notes, and may I say how warm and good they made me feel, and how sincerely I reciprocate the friendship you express. Isn't it peculiar how blogging can become so properly important? It gives one, I find, a much larger "pool" of people to possibly relate to, and although we all know there's a lot of nonsense out there (and there is absolutely nothing wrong with nonsense per se, particularly not with the right kind of nonsense), it is also often somehow easier to cut through the crap and start "talking" for real as it were. You people are lovelies, let me tell you that, and I value you most highly.

Anyway - on a more nonsensy note, so as I don't embarrass myself and you by going all soft and emotional here - glisten, Ms Dark? Wow. What a thing to have as the first thing on one's mind. A fine word, don't get me wrong - right up there with, I don't know, "furtive" or "gossamer" - but certainly one that makes the reader stop and think "What is this girl up to right now?" - in absolutely the right way, it goes without saying.

Signs - it is true, isn't it, what Winterson, you, me, et al say - loss and love just go together, hand in hand, can't have one without the other (please don't think I'm singing now, I'm not). This is something that life teaches one... an inescapable fact. And your word ver is just rude, ok? Rude.

xxxxx kisses all round

R.H. said...

Sorry to be up so late, but it's never late to say, you are fascination -on ice.

Anna MR said...

RH, you smooth talker - thank you.

x

R.H. said...

Smooth talk is 1% of what I say.

The rest is dubious.

-Robert.

trousers said...

Very true, your thoughts on blogging. Nice to see you back after your brief absence too :)

Reading the Signs said...

Yes, well, I wouldn't have wanted to send anything less than the real thing, my dear.

I think we are now basking in the glow of being called "lovelies." Loveliness is also in the eye of the beholder.
x

Anna MR said...

Ok, RH - I consider myself warned, then.

housut - glad you agree with regard to blogging (I'm not a lone saddo, then). And thank you, it's nice to see you too.

x x

Anna MR said...

Signs - you snuck in whilst I was writing. Of course you wouldn't have sent anything less than the real thing - you are the real thing, honeycakes, so you're pretty much stuck with not being able to provide anything else, even if you tried (and I trust you don't even try particularly hard to provide false goods anywhere, do you?). But hang on a minute - are you referring to the Winterson thing or your rude word ver? Either way, what I say, applies.

I am rambling, I can tell. But it's fun to see you. And loveliness does come in external things, too, not just in the beholder's-eye view.

xx

Reading the Signs said...

It was the rudery, I'm afraid. I used to love Jeanette Winterson, don't so much now though I rate her highly in many ways. She is eminently quotable, though.

Anna MR said...

Ha, of course you did and don't so much anymore. Because, dearest Signs, that is exactly the way I feel too. Goddamit, woman, are we separated at birth or something?

xx

Reading the Signs said...

ha har, me hearty! this did make me smile and, as you can see, brought out a touch of the pirate too.

Next you are going to tell me that Margaret Atwood was a very significant writer for you, but there were times when you went right off her, and now you are wanting to give her another chance. Yes? If so, then I think we should seriously consider that we may have been separated at birth, (even though I am more than several years distance from you, but that's a mere triviality).

And you are also probably going to tell me that you once loved Marina Tsvetayeva's poetry with a passion (and perhaps even still do).

x

Reading the Signs said...

Pieces of eight!

Anna MR said...

SHITE.

Bloody hell, Signs. You scare me. As a teenager I loved The Handmaiden's Tale (Handmaiden? Handmaid? one or t'other) and then haven't cared for her at all, and just really recently have got into her poetry...argh, and Tsvetayeva is just too obscure for anyone else to even know about.

I can't help it, the italics beasts have got me, because I am in a state of shock (that, for your information, came out as a state of sock intially. That too, Signs, that too).

Gawwwwwwwd

x

Reading the Signs said...

I am permanently in a state of sock, as it happens. Once a pair arrive at the House of Signs, one of them always disappears.

M.A.'s poetry rocks.

Ha!

Anna MR said...

As does M.T.'s.

I also really like M.T.'s prose, particularly "My Mother and Music/Sonetchka" and the story "Devil".

Ha indeed.

x

R.H. said...

Do you get any news items there about Australia? A Melbourne paper had a report a few days ago about a Finn athlete whose javelin landed in the leg of another athlete. How clumsy.
We've got some very good olympic swimmers here. Top class. None have drowned yet.

Anna MR said...

RH - it's even worse than that, it landed in the other bloke's back. Harrowing. It was a very long throw which veered to the side. High drama and big commotion surrounds the matter.

Last Australian news item I can remember reading in the daily was about one of your Big Brother contestants, whose father had died while the thing was going on and her family didn't want her to be told, so that she could go on to win the thing. (Something like that. I am not very up with BB in any country.) The paper was using this to back up their point in an article about media changing people's ethics or something similar, how publicity goes before anything else in the mind of media consumers.

And yes, there was something about the Republic-or-not-referendum, too.

R.H. said...

Maybe a sudden wind put the javelin off course, it could happen.

The croissant eaters here have gone quiet on the referendum. Losing was a huge shock to them, poor dears; they've been crawling around all constipated. Indignant too of course -without which life is nothing. And anyway, there's always abortion: "What women do with their bodies is their own business," they say, but don't mind telling slobs like me to lose weight. Well golly, you have to laugh.
That big brother tripe proves one thing, gossip cuts through all classes, and there's idiots in every country.

R.H. said...

But may I say.....

Ice.

I hear you. Smoothest voice on the planet. Cool, but compelling. No defence.

Ice, endless. My funny abode. Your voice in operetta, evermore.

-Robert.
(asset to humanity)

Anna MR said...

Well, Robert H - you come bearing many issues. Abortion is one which arouses strong feelings for and against, and although I can understand the against-people to some extent (I saw an excellent documentary, for instance, where doctors told about their experiences, of having to perform abortions and seeing, well, let's not get into it. Stuff that hurts even hardened professionals), I must say I think there is no getting away from the fact abortion has to remain (be made, where applicable) legal, Robert. Whether we call it "women's right to do what they like with their bodies" or whatever, should the anti-abortion campaigners succeed in their efforts, it would only result in an equal number of backstreet abortions, which in turn would result in horrendous infections, haemorrhaging, future infertility, deformed births, and other misery. As for the losing-weight thing, well. I am not overly fond of the inordinate focus body care is receiving in modern Western societies - as if looking somehow to a standard really was all that important, all things and problems of modern society and our shared world considered - but of course there are health issues that individuals should take into account before allowing themselves to become obese. This of course goes with other things, too - alcohol use, smoking (my personal shortcoming for life, it seems, in spite of five-six years off) etc. And Big Brother, well, as I said, it just doesn't do a great deal to me. Entertainment that doesn't entertain rather defeats its own object, wouldn't you say?

As for your later comment - now surely, that classes as poetry?

x

Reading the Signs said...

You are one classy dame, ms Princeling. Mwah! - and fubkij
x

Anna MR said...

Wow, well, why thank you, Prince Signs of the Pirates. It takes one to know one, yes?

Mwah to you too

x

R.H. said...

Thanks Miss Anna, well with all these vices being legalised the cops have less ways to make dough. By 1987 our Queensland police commissioner, Sir Terry Lewis, was making $120,000 a year from illegal casinos and brothels. And living it up in a million-dollar mansion too. Not bad for a public servant (who says they're unambitious?). But he copped 14 years jail in the end, and his wife (Lady Hazel) had to claim the dole, becoming the first titled woman in Australia ever to go on welfare. Quite a distinction. But not for long; soon as the Queen found out she stripped their titles. And good for her.
The police force here is full of gangsters. They're in parliament too. It's all a game. I myself never made much from crime, just a house in a shitty suburb, that's all (and which is now being invaded by the croissant and foccacia).

Yes well I have to be careful. Drug dealing might get you ten years, but poetry can get you killed. It depends where you spout it of course; the city is more tolerant, you just get put in a straitjacket, but in one-horse country towns there's the chance of being lynched.

I'm cautious; evasive about it. Always.

Anna MR said...

Well now, RH, you cause upheavals in my European view of Australia as a happy-go-lucky beachy nation. You make it sound more like Stalin's USSR...

R.H. said...

I'll say something nice about this blockhead country when it hands me fifty billion dollars.

That's what I'm owed.

Anna MR said...

Wow. Fifty billion is quite a debt. But fear not, I have nothing against you slagging off your native land in the meantime. Just, you know, saying, RH.

x

R.H. said...

Right. It's a lot of dough, you ain't kidding. When it arrives I'm taking you to Amsterdam, (for-you-know-what: Diamonds. A Tiara!)

Then I'll buy you Helsinki!

We'll dance the Pride of Erin -in the Town Square!

-Robert!
(start learning the steps)

R.H. said...

And hey, keep all this quiet, okay?

Other dames get jealous.

Anna MR said...

Oh, Pride of Erin, is it - you have a bit of a Celtic connection, then, Robert?

This is all very sweet of you, but I don't wear diamonds on account of ethical issues (I don't know who's been down the mine for me, and have they done so out of volition, and with decent pay and working conditions; neither do I know whether people have had their arms chopped off in Sierra Leone in diamond wars over a stone that would adorn my hand, head, ear, neck, whatever). And buying me Helsinki would just make me a monstrous thief ("All property is theft").

And we couldn't have me siding with the enemy of the people, now, could we?

Besides which, Robert, blogpal from the Upside-Down-Lands, although my keyboard is free, the rest of me is spoken for. But don't tell the other bloggers, they'll only get jealous.

R.H. said...

Property is theft, but only if you're caught. Proudhon was an idiot.

Well sometimes I get a little bit sentimental (nothing to do with the booze) when I reflect on my mother being Irish. Poor thing, she sang Galway Bay, to a room full of neighbours, and got enormous applause. Next day she was out again, in that same black dress, trying to get credit from the local shops.

No wonder I demand fifty billion. All in cash.

Don't worry that we're upside-down here, it's only so we can look up all your skirts.

Don't worry that you're spoken for, our words are trumps, top cards.

-Robert.

Anna MR said...

Well, I don't know, friends, Romans, countrymen - for such a concise little post, this one has had quite a long thread of comments. And, because I wear the trousers here and I feel that way inclined, the time has now come to move onwards and upwards.