Loyalty and Shame (AM)

I have a friend who married a fellow with an unfortunate name. Let's call him Joe Pimp. She loves her husband very much, and has a bent towards the traditional, so she changed her name. She became, let's say, Sally Pimp. Sally had a great surname to begin with, and we all wondered whether she would change it. She said that she did in part out of loyalty to Joe. She loved him, Pimp and all. Time passed and the Pimps welcomed to bouncing baby girl. They gave her a somewhat unique first name, let's go with Marmalade. So that bouncing baby girl became Marmalade Pimp. Now you don't need to be a rocket scientist to know that that name is pretty wack, and soon,  the Pimps realised that too. They lived their baby girl and didn't want her to suffer unnecessarily. They figured the world was  tough enough without having to go through life being called Marmalade Pimp. So Sally and Marmalade changed their names back to Sally's original name. It was a tough decision but they did it to prevent suffering and they never looked back.

I'm telling you all of this because since the baby has come, Melbourne has lost some games of footy in a truly woeful fashion. I expect you're thinking what's new, right? I don't blame you. Maybe it's because I'm tired and emotional and have a new baby, but these losses have hit me hard. And got me thinking about what kind of life I want for my son. I always thought that I'd proudly pass on my club allegiance to my offspring, I never questioned it, it's what one does.
But now I'm not so sure I want this misery for him. I'm not even sure I want to for myself.
These thoughts are very troubling to me, and challenge everything I believed about myself in relation to loyalty and commitment. I'm ashamed of them but they are there. And like the folk on Embarrassing Bodies who can't bring themselves to tell a single GP about their weird genital condition but somehow feel ok about going on TV and telling millions, I'm telling all of you. I don't know where to go with these thoughts. I guess this is a cry for help.

The confession (AM)

"Billy, this is your homework."

I have to tell you something. I love Miss Soft Crab, I love reading it, I love writing it, but sometimes I'm distracted or uninspired and it's hard, you know? I have some half formed ideas that may or may not work as a whole post. Sometimes I got nothing. That's just the bad weeks or the busy ones. This week I had so many half formed ideas and so much distracting me from them I forgot them all. 

Last night I was watching perhaps the most boring tv show in history. It's just this guy walking around parts of the English coast learning about the events of WWII in those parts. There were some interesting bits, of course, but really it's just a guy going for a walk. Anyways, there I was watching a boring show and thinking about how I really needed to go to the toilet and how boring that was. I guess I was feeling tired and our bathroom is cold and I just felt annoyed that one has to regularly perform this bodily function that requires one to get off the couch and go to such a cold room. May I also add that I don't sit on the couch all day. Mostly I'm up doing stuff and yet I never get around to weeing when I'm up either. All those distractions.  So there I was thinking about things I had to do that I didn't want to do: go to the toilet; clean my bedroom; and then, that's when I remembered I had to write a blog post, a wee reminded me. 

And then do you know what happened next? The movie Toy Soldiers came on TV. Now this is a movie that K and I used to watch all the time. Turns out I can still pretty much quote it all, presumably in its entirety, I didn't watch it all so I can't confirm that. Point is you thought it was hard for me to go to the toilet and write a blog post when I was watching an Englishman go for a walk, what hope was there once a teenage Wil Wheaton hit the screen!? So here we all are, me feeling bad I was distracted by a movie from writing a decent post and you wishing you watched Toy Soldiers last night.