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.

Rebekah. 

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.