So a few weeks ago the delightful Mrs Woog said that she was going to host a bloggers lunch. Mrs Woog is one of my blogging heroes. I don’t know if she has a cape and wears her undies on the outside. She might. But what she does have is one of those instantly lovable personalities that makes you wish you could go and raid her coffee machine and dig through her cupboards for hidden treats, then fart loudly as you leave. And you know it would be OK. I’m lucky, I have several friendships like this. Or maybe I have forced them to be as such, I don’t know.
Anyway anyway, just like that I’ve become distracted. I’m at my sister’s house in the Hawkesbury this weekend. My phone is connected to her government issue laptop (she’s a teacher), and I am hoping I have enough data to publish this. Time will tell.
I left Newy at 9:30. Being me, I knew I would spill coffee all over my clothing in the duration of the trip down so I put my lunch shirt in a bag and wore an old scruffy in the car. And as I drove to Sydney from Newcastle, my bladder began to fill. It’s OK, I reasoned. I’ll find a Maccas or a servo and get changed while I do a horse-type wee before lunch, then arrive cool calm and collected.
NOT SO, MY FRIENDS.
I found the lunch spot with bladder at capacity, and had roughly 20 minutes to spare. Not enough time to scout out a servo, and I hadn’t passed a Maccas in a while. I went to the nearby supermarket and asked if they could tell me where the nearest loo is – they pointed me to the cafe where lunch was happening. You know that funny walk you do when you have an exceptionally full bladder? That was me. For some reason I decided that I couldn’t use that toilet. So I got back in the car and had a little think.
The suburb had lots of trees. Oh don’t be disgusting I wasn’t going to wee on a tree. No, I figured I could simply pull to the side of the road and get changed in relative privacy, then return to the cafe for my ladylike wee.
It’s surprising how many houses are built to maximise view.
I found a little street called Pleasant Ave, and decided it was time for that street to see something unpleasant. Running low on time, I quickly stripped off and put my ladylike shirt on. Then buttoned it like a three year old with non-opposable thumbs. I had to rebutton that shirt twice.
By this stage I was nervous as all fuck.
Raced back to the cafe. And spotted the only big table, which already had several proper grown ups seated at it. Proper ones. Not imposters like me. I ducked into the cafe and did the BIGGEST WEE OF MY LIFE, then in my nervousness grabbed what I thought was toilet paper. I then spent several anxious moments hoping the giant wad of HAND TOWEL would flush. It did.
These proper grown up ladies were awesome, by the way. We all had stories which I imagine is why we all blog. Mrs Woog was a much gracious host, greeting me with a huge hug which calmed me right down. I pilfered a couple of champagne corks (for Cubs) and then sat back and listened.
I heard tales of fish caught in swimmers from Wendy Harmer. Of love, loss, hope and feral children. And of a common desire to write.
By the time I left I was full of excitement to blog more. I was reminded of why I blog, and what I get out of it.
And here it is:
My main aim in blogging is that making sure that people don’t feel alone. I cover a lot of stuff in this blog. Same sex relationships, mental health, faith, funny shit, misadventures. People. Story telling. But everything I write comes back down to one thing: Letting people know that there is someone else out there that experiences a range of emotions and experiences. The stuff that generally goes untalked about. The things that can be awkward to bring up. Things like mental health. Shit days. Grief. The way life can rise up and punch you in the face. The sheer joy of remembering. The twisted pathways of creating stories for things like gravestones and pulpits in a second hand store.
Because if I don’t, who will?
I’ve been punching away at this blog for around 3 years. Today, I have a fresh passion for it. So strap yourselves in, Naughty Corner people. The ride is about to get bumpy and more frequent.
I’d love to hear what you want more of from the Naughty Corner. Are there things I’m missing? Things you want to read more about? Hit me with it.
And in the meantime?
I’m about to test that data connection.
Have a top weekend.