So I've gone and done it, I've joined slimming world.(Seems the world is getting bigger, not smaller, but...) I blame my mate Luan, who came down to stay with me. She looks great, she's lost a lot of weight, and is more confident and happy,but she was like an evangelist about owing it all to slimming world. I wasn't going to mention here that I'd joined, I thought I'd leave this to the other Angela, the one who cooks soups and grouts tile you won't want to hear about. But when I got there I was bugged by recognising a face in the group, and it was a lady who goes to the blue room. She recognised me too, so I reckoned since I can't keep the worlds sepearte these days I'd just confess.
What can I say about slimming world? It goes like this.
1. You get weighed (no one shouts out your weight, or speaks it)
2. They tell you how much you've lost or gained.
3.You all sit there in a horseshoe shape circle
4. The consultant will go round the group one at a time, say how much you lost or gained and you can say something.
There are little stickers and certificate merit systems and you will get these stickers when you have done something good, like lost half a stone, or been slimmer of the week. Would be nice if more in life was like that. Last week they had a food tasting, people brought in food they had made that was good for you, or that technically you can eat unlimited amounts of, and you could try things you have never had and ask the recipe. All this is good. The diet itself means you don't have to go hungry, as there are plenty of foods you can eat whenever you like. There's no calorie counting or weighing and measuring, and many of the foods aren't too difficult to fit into your ordinary life.
But I still find it is a very strange place. The tone in the group reminds me of an Avon lady seminar. Most of the members are women (express no surprise, men get to look distinguished and women get to 'let themselves go', right?) I felt a bit like like I was on planet tupperware, and had forgot my handbag and passport smile. Wish I could get used to normal things like seeming pleasant, exchanging pleasantries. Something switches off and I end up sitting there thinking I am not the right type, again. Maybe if I keep going it will be good practice, and more people will like me. I will practice, when someone says 'how are you?' to only say 'fine thankyou, and yourself?', and keep the 'they're all bastards, they are all trying to get me' at bay.
To be honest I'm going in order to stay sensible. Everytime I've lost weight in the past I've done it by not eating very healthily, silly diets of nothing but bran flakes or Farley's rusks. Eventually the diet controlled me, food just looked like the califoric numbers it contained. I've been to the other extreme of never going on scales because I gave up, and being miserable everytime I have to clothes shop. People don't help when you feel like this, 'friends' put you down with casual comments. (My favourite one was 'we watched an old video the other day, you used to be really pretty'- shouldn't I have just said thanks alot you cheeky cow or what? Instead I did that hunched thing with my shoulders of being about to turn inside out.) Another 'friend' of mine and I were discussing photo's, cheekbones came into the conversation and she said 'Oh, I've never noticed you having any cheekbones.' Now you can say it in a voice like Mary Poppins all you like pet, but isn't that a bit mean?
What I'm wondering, is how many people have 'friends' like this, who can be really lacking tact, insensitive, or just plain bitchy? And why do we put up with it? I really want to think it isn't inherent in female friendships. I don't think it has to be, I have 3 friends who are never like that, and are very encouraging and supportive. But why is this so often not the case? I'd like to go ahh, and blame it on relationships we have with our mother's when we were younger that has set up a template, but I know the mother of one of these quite well and she is lovely, and know people with bad mother's who never act that way. Why do we have friends? It's sounds like such an obvious question, but why people bother with people is something we don't ask, we just do, get on with it. Are everyone's reasons for the friends in their lives different?
Friends should
1. Be fun to be with.
This sounds like a given, but isn't always the case. I think friends need to make the effort to have fun together sometimes.
(An example of this is that at one point I was the only babysitter a friend had in line. I didn't mind, but the problem of course was whenever fun or nice things were done like going out I'd never be able to attend. I didn't mind the babysitting, but was starting to feel like only the babysitter rather than a friend, since we never did anything fun together.)
2. Friends should be supportive of eachother, always. No sometimes is in this. This is the golden rule. You should be able to say anything to a friend, and know that they will be on your side, be routing for you (even if they they would have done something differently.) You should both have an understanding about keeping things in confidence too.
3. Friends have many functions, the sharing of interests sometimes,the exchange of idea's, or someone to confide in. Ultimately friends affirm who we think we are. We make up who we are, how we think about ourselves by the reactions of others, which is why I have to ask why we would ever have friends who make us feel bad about ourselves?
All this seems so obvious, but I've had to think about this sometimes when 'friends' have plain made me feel bad. I've had to remind myself that friends are different to other relationships. That old addage you chose your friends is true (we might have to put up with things from siblings or parents , but we have less choice about that.) Shouldn't friends be your R&R? So what I ask is, what have I done? have I behaved in ways that would make someone chose me as a friend? Have they?
I had a strange dream that I was escaping from a prison, other people tried too, but I was very brave, I pulled myself up onto the roof, lay flat and shuffled along on my belly to get out. The guards didn't see me, they had guns. I almost didn't care anyway, I had to get out, had to try. I have no idea what this dream was about, it sounds like a negative dream, but was quite elating. Just had to try, get out and be damned. I think this dream had something to do with my work actually, or I suppose could be a dream about slimming world. I have continued with the sorting of things, finding things that must go, and found 2 black bin bags of clothes to give to the charity shop, 2 carriers to give to people I know, and some for the bin. I was amazed at the amount of clothes in the bottom of the wardrobe still in carrier bags, things I'd bought over the years and had never yet had the guts to wear. Ended up with just one curver box of clothes I like and would like to wear, but not sure I will, to keep in a holding cell for a year, then they must go. Got rid of a sofa too, sorted through all the books, and got rid of some of them, and CD's. I know some people who never get rid of a book, but eventually they take over. I never get rid of a poetry book, but some of the others (even good ones) had to go. Some I might read again, but isn't that what libraries are for? (Gill made a comment that in autumn there is a shedding to prevent things going foisty, and it was spot on.) I hate the idea of so many things taking up precious space, building walls round me, and me like a hamster sleepy in the middle of it all, chewing my way out.
Progress has been made on the sorting of poems. Been re-working Bettie Page poems, and ended up writing a new one and re-ordering the sequence. A friend told me it was a complex poem to read, so I made it a little easier by actually giving sections titles. I think I didn't want to tell anyone what to think, or give any pre-conceived notions or my opinion by giving the poems titles, so in the end I gave the titles as the age of the protagonist as a compromise between my intention and accessibility. It seems to be working much better now. On Saturday I went to the Sean O'Brien workshop. I am a bit scared of him, because he is such a proper poet and an academic. There is something about him, actually not him (he always seems pleasant and even maybe a bit shy) but his status, that makes me feel very silly and insignificant. So I was nervous about the whole thing, but I was surprised at how perceptive his comments were (I think because I assume men, especially clever men, aren't going to find anything in my work). Sad consensus in the group that the last four lines of the poem had to go, I didn't tell anyone, but these were my favourite lines, the lines that had started the whole poem. Nonetheless have spent time since working on the poem and given them the chop. I don't feel so much that I am murdering my babies, more like sending them out into foster care for a while, if they are good enough in a few years they may well come back.
On the work front, also had a magazine acceptance. This was a great surprise, since I had forgotten sending work to them, and the rejections were all caught up on I thought.They are going to publish 2 of the Marilyn poems in an issue that comes out early 2007, and particularly liked one that is my own personal favourite (that I thought might be a little difficult for a reader to get into.) I have stopped sending things out at the moment, but it might be time to get back on the horse.
9 comments:
Bloody hell! Looks like you are reshaping your whole life as well as your poems, no wonder you are feeling a bit disorientated by it all.
Let the books go, the library angels will make sure they get to the right people; people who need what they have to say.
As for friends, my criteria is if you can tell them you are pissed off with them or feel a bit jealous of them etc. without a major row, they are worth keeping.
But there is something in that cliche about poets being outside observers, we don't always do the friends thing well or even understand it. A few really good friends are worth hundreds of bitches.
As for cheekbones- I spent TWO YEARS photographing myself nearly every day and came to the conclusion that you can make yourself look exactly how you want to with the clever use of lighting. Cheekbones are a trick of shadow and light (and blusher!)
Been thinking. Your blog always makes me think, so thanks for that! Anyway I think we sometimes hold on to those so called 'friends' because they actually reinforce things we think about ourselves. Sometimes we would rather feel powerless and ugly because we feel we don't deserve anything else. Or maybe that was just me?
I gill, I think you might have a point. We put up with people who are negative because that's how we feel about ourselves really. A cycle of bad self esteem, causing me to put up with bitchiness, and of course the negativity reinforces the low self esteem. Maybe at the end of the transformation stage the negative people will be the next thing to be cleared out- don't think there's a black binbag strong enough for em though!
I like your idea you can look however you want. I am pondering about making myself have some pictures taken, as I've been asked for some publicity shots, and they want 6. 6! I have only one that is acceptable. Any ideas on what sort of scenarios and locations would make interesting ones?
whatever/wherever makes you feel most comfortable and natural- personally I prefer the look of photos that are done in natural light. Are you trying to look 'poety'? what image of yourself do you want: lively, quirky, moody, cerebral, sexy? naturalistic? surrealistic? Close up, whole body, urban, rural?? colour, black and white?? Get some photo books out of the library and see what kind of photos really speak to you.
OOh, thanks gill have lots to think about now. I think part of the block about this is not knowing what i can get away with and just hating photo's of myself, so i am trying to think about it as something else- something composed, and a good photo (other than me being in it.) I've had lots of stick about photo's in the past, one reviewer said i looked like a moddy teenager, then i got a happy photo and a reviewer said i looked too whacky! i can't win! Thinking black and white though. What do people want to see writers looking like do you think?
oh mad I expect- especially if female- just have a photo of yourself with your head in the oven and have done with it!! (JOKE)WHO ARE YOU? (at the moment!!) WHAT/WHO do you want to look like? You can never second guess what 'they' want, you can never win at that, cos they all want different things, so try and be who YOU want- and that can be anyone. Have a look at how Cindy Sherman changes herself, she really inspired me.
PS why are reviewers reviewing your photo anyway- I bet they don't do it to MEN!
Too right they don't. You ever see a reviewer say, " a superb take on modernism in these sonnets, not bad for a man with a beard?"
No- or even Andrew Motion writes a beautiful sonnet for the queen but his nose is a bit beaky!! Have a photo done with a bag on your head as a protest!
Post a Comment