This is like that, only better. Way fucking better.
There were a few things that I was surprised about, i.e: being a finalist, and not even having nominated myself and sent out a million e-mails/tweets/written a bajillion blogposts pestering people to nominate me for the SA Blog Awards, like I’ve done in years gone by. To be honest, I was too busy. I didn’t even put a “nominate me” badge on my blog, and hope it would work by osmosis. Second, the category that I landed up in. “Most Controversial Blog”. Me? Controversial? Really?
It’s entirely unintentional, this being considered controversial thing. I’ve never done anything with the intention of being controversial. I swear. It’s been like that my whole life. All I’ve ever tried to do is blend in. Fade into the background and pass unnoticed. And it seems that any attempt I’ve made to blend in, and go unnoticed are doomed to fail, right from the outset.
It’s been like that my whole life.
Why? I have no idea. I guess people don’t really know what to make of me. I guess it’s hard to blend in when you’re the only girl in primary school with divorced parents, the only girl to come from a single-father household. I guess it was difficult to blend in at school when I was the one who had an accident with some not-so-temporary red hair dye, and landed up with bright-pink hair. Difficult to blend in at a tight, stuckup school for girls where dyeing one’s hair and growing one’s fingernails and not folding one’s socks or wearing one’s school hat, was a serious misdemeanour.
I guess it was difficult to blend in as I got older, and progressively blonder (chemically assisted later on in life, admittedly) and grew bigger boobs (rather early on in life). It’s also difficult to blend in when you never know when to shut your mouth, and you’re prone to blurting out completely embarrassing (if not mortifying) statements at the most inopportune moments. When you’re prone to fits of laughter and giggles at completely the wrong times. The situation is probably exacerbated when you’re prone to oversharing, and (like I’ve said before) seem to completely lack a filter in your brain that tells you ‘perhaps you shouldn’t say that, or perhaps you shouldn’t say this’, because it might make other people squirm.
And I guess that’s what being controversial is all about. Making people uncomfortable. I admit that there’s the possibility that my excessive use of words like “fuck” (okay, not so controversial anymore I guess) and “knobknocker” and “mancunt” “whorebag” and telling people in traffic to “get crotchrot and die” might make some people uncomfortable. I get that talking about attempts at failed buttsex – with gratitude that borders on hysteria, mind you – might make you wish you could reach for the mindbleach, if talking about vagina waxing and stretchy labia didn’t.
But I usually forget all of this because I’m too busy being someone’s mom. Too busy being someone’s live-in long-term girlfriend. Too busy being a writer/journalist/reviewer/Body Thrills maker/Girl Guide/. All of which were unintentional too. I never intended to be a mom/girlfriend/writer, either – just like I never intended to be controversial. I still don’t think the label fits, but that’s maybe because I have a hard time labelling anything in my life. Like I said, I’m too busy being things to worry about what those things are called and how to correctly define them.
Too busy putting my foot in my mouth, at any given moment, to be any other way.
So if you’d like to affirm my status as being controversial (and I’d be much obliged, if you did – maybe it would clear up some very apparent self-identity issues that have clearly surfaced today) then I’d suggest you click this link and vote for www.exmi.co.za under “Most Controversial Blog”.