Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Who do I think I am?

I can't really define me. But I will try. I will tell you a story.

Just get a few things sorted first though.

First up, I don't really like the thing of people asking another person "so..... what do you do?". Some people thinks this defines them. Me thinks not.

Secondly, if you liked the seachange series on telly a while back......actually a long while back, then I reckon we might have a few things in common.

Okay. Heres the story.

Big foot Becky.

My grade 2 primary school teacher used to call me this. I think he thought he was funny. I wasn't so sure about that.

I walk heavily on this earth. 

If you were in my presence around wooden floors and a long corridor, you could hear me coming. Its not like bang bang bang bang. It's more like, douf.........douf........douf......douf..... Slow and heavy. Always wearing boots.

Unless of course it was in my youth, when I happened to be chasing my brother. If he had been a particular asshole and completely pigheaded....... you would of heard my swearing first, then douf.. doufs really fast. Once in stupid frustration after arguing with him, I kicked the wall, with my rossi boots on. Broke a hole in it too. Didn't really get into trouble, because, well, it was kinda funny. Me, the very passive one... Doing THAT.

Wayne was introduced to my beautiful swearing early on. This was on the day my brother, again, was watering some plants at my parents place and as I walked past him he squirted me with the hose, I called him a f**ing c**t. Wayne just looked at me like ..... whaty what?

That was nothing though, My parents were the biggest swearers on earth. Still are. So they couldn't even whisper a reprimand of any description. I could go in to detail. But I won't. It would be in poor taste, I supposeeeeeee........

So Anyways, I grew up with two hippy art/music teachers turned counselors, swearing parents.

Can you even imagine that?

I have done some things in my life so far and some things I have not done. Just the usual and the unusual.

The end.

I wrote this below in a comment on Edens blog for the meme fresh horses. I thought I had missed out. But It's still going.

Hello, it's me.
Everyone calls me Rex. Except my Mum. She calls me Becky, which still feels yuckity yuk. (sorry mum, it's alright though you can call me that, and you too Tania.)
I haven't had time to put together a good post for this meme, and I can't seem to define myself very well anyway. 

So I thought I would write some stuff here, cause I love Eden's words. I fell for them the very first moment I read them. 
I turned 39 a few weeks back, and it still feels weird, cause inside I am still a 14 year old that wants to take on the world with her beliefs. 
Some where deep inside me I have a wise instinctual knowing of life, it's always been there.  It's like the shit of the world can fall apart all around me, and I can just sit there and know it's all going to be fine. I was the peace maker growing up, in all fields, school, home-life, all of it.  I am tired. Its hard work and I am over it. I don't want that role anymore. But I just can't shake it. And sometimes I just want to say fuck off to the world.
I have been trying to rebel against it for quite a while. I am losing though.
It's me, I guess. Destiny. Fate. I have to embrace it. Somehow, in some way.
I only like wearing black, why this is, I don't know. But it's part of me.
I am a storyteller. Something that has only truly come about because of my blog. 
I have been reading here and there about the blogging blah blah stuff in the mainstream media. I hate how humans do this stuff to each other, and I will never believe it's just human nature to be so destructive. No way, I never feel that way, it's wrong. 

It goes against humanity. 

Check out all the wonderful writers out there in the link up.

And thirdly, I think, thats what I am doing with this blog. Exploring me.


  1. Insights - brave - but I guess not really - honest is a better word to use. No excuses - real, yes it is honest. Hate when people ask what I do - but wtf does it matter? I always answer I'm a mother or I ask if they would like a list. (but they really want to know - do you make lots of money) Yes, our stories need to be honest because that is really the only story that matters. You are a storyteller - here - stories change and are always retold with a slightly different theme or meaning - just like our lives. Why should we define our stories or ourselves, can't we be a work in progress or just what we are now?

    1. Exactly Clare, a work in progress. I have noticed how South Africans like to talk about people and whether they are making 'big bucks' or not. It's strange to define people this way. What a person's income is has nothing to do with who they are. I love how you say you are a mum and do you want a list! I am thinking 'washing, sweeping, cleaning, reading, more washing, cooking.......' this would be in my list.

  2. "Oh. You're a nice fresh voice" I was thinking. Then I thought I'd be better to share that with you. Power on.

    Also: I reckon 'what do you do?' is less often about pigeon-holing, and more a small-talk say-words-now prompt. Everyone does something, just like everyone has weather. I'd be delighted to start a conversation with a new person that went:

    - So, what do you do?
    - You know what? I always feel like that question and answer is trying to unfairly define me...

    1. Very true, I think that the question of what you do- to some people is the need to define you by your job, for others it's wanting to know how a person spends their time, what interests them and how they think.

  3. I love all that you've written, Rex. I relate to the 14 year old who wants to take on the world with her beliefs. I love the rebel in you. I love the storyteller in you. You are gorgeous xxx

    1. Thanks Deb, I so enjoy it. I remember that destinct feeling at the age of 14, and being on the cusp of things, and really knowing my mind. xo

  4. I relate to much of what you say. I loved seachange, and the last thing I ever do is ask what somebody does. Even if they ask me I don't ask back, because clearly that doesn't really define a person, it can sometimes give you an insight into them, but it certainly isn't something I care to ask when I first meet somebody. I think people ask more as a status thing, rather than an interest in what kind of person you are. Except now it seems to be what do you do and where do you live.
    Yes I guess you really are a peacemaker, but it wouldn't be the way I would have defined you at school. You go rebel against your little calm peace making self.
    Also, I sympathise with you on the douf douf douf. I am a douffer too, everyone always hears me coming Rexybobexy

    1. Thats right you are a douf douf too, I think you may be a bit more petite than me though. It's hard to start a conversation with some one and not ask 'what do you do?' but good on you for not asking it back! I love to know peoples thoughts on things, whether there is much going on in their heads and how they express them selves.

  5. Perhaps we should ask Who are you? Or how did you come to be this way? I remember when I didn't know how to make conversation. In my teens, I would say What did you have for breakfast? When dancing with a partner at Saturday night dances??

  6. I will remember that one mum, thanks. Instead of saying 'so what do you do'? I will say, 'so....what you have for breaky'? haha...

    Also when talking to my mum about this post, the first thing she says is.... 'But, I never use the c..... word'! ha ha ha ha.....

  7. Oh my, it was your last sentence that went straight to my heart. Exploring me. That is what I love about the Fresh Horses brigade.

    Have fun. Admire the wonderful aspects of yourself. :-)

  8. Yes, it's great is in it. When you dig a little deeper about yourself, there is so much to learn. And I think that is truly a freeing and wonderful thing.