Tag Archives: virtual friends

We Are Family

In a comment on my post about using some of your blognames in my password (there will be others, guys, there will one day be a Saint Frend) Jo said “we’re blogging family!”.

And in a way that’s true. The people who comment here, especially on some of my depression-based posts, are caring and supportive just as a family should be.

Rose is one of the newest family members. She came here in January after getting a pacemaker, searching the internet for medical information but instead finding us. Reading  this probably led her to believe that a pacemaker causes nuttiness, a lame sense of humour and an over-preponderance of brackets, but she has stuck with us.

I’ve been in touch with her by email, letting her know how I got through it and dispensing wisdom such as that chicks dig scars (I am basing this on no personal experience whatsoever, but desperately need to believe it ). That’s how I know that this week, just a couple of months after her own operation, her husband has had to get major hip surgery.

Part of the joy of blogging is that you never know who you’ll come into contact with, or where they’ll be from. My readership falls rather oddly into two categories. I don’t seem to get people in other parts of Ireland such as Sligo or Cork  – the few Irish people I do get usually turn out by co-incidence either to live nearby or to have been people I used to play sport with, and the rest of you don’t live in Ireland at all.

Rose is from Shreveport in Louisiana. She lives on the other side of the Atlantic, I’ve never met her, but thanks to blogging and the internet she has become my friend, just like the rest of you.

Please leave a comment wishing her well. She’s family now.

I Ate’nt Dead

Those of you who read Terry Pratchett (and those of you don’t, should) will be familiar with the above phrase.

granny-weatherwaxOne of the witches in the books, Granny Weatherwax, occasionally goes “borrowing”, i.e., letting her mind into the mind of another creature, such as an eagle, so she can share its experiences. While she is doing this she is, by all appearances, dead, so has taking to placing a card saying “I Ate’nt Dead” on her chest as she lies there so that she doesn’t wake up in a coffin.

I feel a bit like that at the moment, since I just can’t think of anything to post about. Last week I was reduced to posting a piece about my cutlery. While we’re waiting for the emergency budget there doesn’t seem any point in writing about the economy. There are only so many ways I can say “Cut the crap and the ludicrous benefits to yourselves, and show some guts with dealing with the bankers & developers, and you’ll find us all much more willing to accept sacrifices ourselves.” This should be so obvious that it shouldn’t need to be said, but I have an awful feeling that they’re still not getting it. Still, I’m continuing to hope, at last, for some leadership.

So what else is there? The rugby? Yes, it was wonderful, with a finale that you couldn’t possibly make up, but other, far better, writers that me will commerate the event. ( I will say, though, that while Ronan O’Gara’s last gasp drop goal was desperately important, I’m not sure it was all that impressive. He put the ball high over the bar from 14 yards out, standing untackled in front of the goal. Those of us who follow Man U watched Andy Cole spend a decade doing that).

The Tinkids are obstinately refusing to do anything cute, endearing or just plain daft at present, so are a poor source of material. The office is very quiet since the redundancies, and so many of my friends are gone.

So I’ve missed quite a few days of posting recently. Which is not a problem, of course, but it did make me think of something. Recently Laughykate wrote this post about looking up symptoms on the Internet and deciding she had a brian aneurism. It was very funny, and also so true (you wouldn’t believe some of the stuff I looked seriously at when I had the blackouts). Rather alarmingly, though, she then didn’t post anything for three days.

As time goes on in the blogiverse, you get to meet virtually people who become virtual friends. But you don’t even know their real names (unless they out themselves and their um, activities in a national newspaper), we don’t know where they live. How would we know if anything actually happened to one of them one day?

Holemaster is getting test results any day now. Best of luck with them, and make sure you post something afterwards. Even if it’s just “pudgy”.