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Wednesday, April 14, 2004
Grace and favour
Your thin end for today:
I'm all in favour of grace. In fact, I think it's a wonderful thing. Unless it's the kind that's holding up a yummy dinner, then I'm not so keen.
There are lots of different kinds of grace, when you think about it...
There's the charm version of grace - an ease and suppleness of movement or physical bearing. Elephants aren't known to be especially graceful.
There's the coups de grâce, the final merciful stroke of death to humanely euthanase the mortally wounded. I ordered mine on Friday the 21st of February this year... it hasn't arrived yet.
There's a saving grace, a redeeming quality or factor of some description. Where??
There are the Three GRACES (always in caps), the 3 sister goddesses in Greek mythology who are the givers of charm and beauty. Can you say " pfffftttt "?
There's de bonne grâce - the good grace, being willing and helpful. Allied to that, I suppose is the art of staying within someone's good graces for approval or favour. There's no payback for this one, folks.
There's also the intransitive verb version which confers dignity or honour or embellishes and adorns an object. Once upon a time I used to occasionally grace class with my inimitable obnoxious and overbearing presence. But I would never embellish, not me.
There are shitloads more meanings to this one, simple word. So many that I can't be bothered laying them all out. No, really.
Suffice to say that Grace is at least one of three Greek women selling charms and beauty products to elephants, who are always willing to assist administering the coups de grâce to their stricken benefactor. You know morticians use special make up for making the recently snuffed look damn fine in their wee box, don't you? I guess they sell a different kind of immortality, huh... (Remind me to tell you how I want my funeral to be, ok?).
Anyway, do you have friends? I used to have a lot of friends. Heaps of them. Are your friends good friends? You know the sort, the ones who you could ring at one in the morning because you needed to talk to them; the sort that would borrow $5 to give to you if you really, really needed it.
I used to have friends like that, too, but they are a bit thin on the ground lately. Remember how back near the end of the "Slice" blog I was talking about how stupid I had been rushing around all summer pretending I was a real person, well what I didn't realise until well after I realised that, was that that was exactly what I have to do if I want to have any friends or have a life, cos all my friends live in a busy world where I'm a bit sort of not a priority. Oh, it's natural, but it hurts and it sucks just the same. They are all busy banging their rocks together and getting ahead as best they can. They're working, and studying, or working AND studying, or working and screwing around, or working and trying not to screw around, or working hard at work and when they are not working they are working at home to save their marriage or their property or their sanity or whatever it is that is top of their priority list.
For weeks now I have done little more than sleep, and cry, and cry myself to sleep and sometimes cry in my sleep. Occasionally, someone will want something done for them and I will get my shit together long enough to comply with whatever good grace (there's that fucking word again) I can muster but that is just about the upper limit of my social contact. And no one's even noticed that I'm all broken into tiny little pieces and my heart is all smashed.
Guess who's not feeling very helpful at the moment? I wish my coups de grâce would bloody hurry up and grace me with it's presence while there's still someone left to organise the funeral. There's nothing like a bit of gratuitous self-pity to really get the bbq started.
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I'm all in favour of grace. In fact, I think it's a wonderful thing. Unless it's the kind that's holding up a yummy dinner, then I'm not so keen.
There are lots of different kinds of grace, when you think about it...
There's the charm version of grace - an ease and suppleness of movement or physical bearing. Elephants aren't known to be especially graceful.
There's the coups de grâce, the final merciful stroke of death to humanely euthanase the mortally wounded. I ordered mine on Friday the 21st of February this year... it hasn't arrived yet.
There's a saving grace, a redeeming quality or factor of some description. Where??
There are the Three GRACES (always in caps), the 3 sister goddesses in Greek mythology who are the givers of charm and beauty. Can you say " pfffftttt "?
There's de bonne grâce - the good grace, being willing and helpful. Allied to that, I suppose is the art of staying within someone's good graces for approval or favour. There's no payback for this one, folks.
There's also the intransitive verb version which confers dignity or honour or embellishes and adorns an object. Once upon a time I used to occasionally grace class with my inimitable obnoxious and overbearing presence. But I would never embellish, not me.
There are shitloads more meanings to this one, simple word. So many that I can't be bothered laying them all out. No, really.
Suffice to say that Grace is at least one of three Greek women selling charms and beauty products to elephants, who are always willing to assist administering the coups de grâce to their stricken benefactor. You know morticians use special make up for making the recently snuffed look damn fine in their wee box, don't you? I guess they sell a different kind of immortality, huh... (Remind me to tell you how I want my funeral to be, ok?).
Anyway, do you have friends? I used to have a lot of friends. Heaps of them. Are your friends good friends? You know the sort, the ones who you could ring at one in the morning because you needed to talk to them; the sort that would borrow $5 to give to you if you really, really needed it.
I used to have friends like that, too, but they are a bit thin on the ground lately. Remember how back near the end of the "Slice" blog I was talking about how stupid I had been rushing around all summer pretending I was a real person, well what I didn't realise until well after I realised that, was that that was exactly what I have to do if I want to have any friends or have a life, cos all my friends live in a busy world where I'm a bit sort of not a priority. Oh, it's natural, but it hurts and it sucks just the same. They are all busy banging their rocks together and getting ahead as best they can. They're working, and studying, or working AND studying, or working and screwing around, or working and trying not to screw around, or working hard at work and when they are not working they are working at home to save their marriage or their property or their sanity or whatever it is that is top of their priority list.
For weeks now I have done little more than sleep, and cry, and cry myself to sleep and sometimes cry in my sleep. Occasionally, someone will want something done for them and I will get my shit together long enough to comply with whatever good grace (there's that fucking word again) I can muster but that is just about the upper limit of my social contact. And no one's even noticed that I'm all broken into tiny little pieces and my heart is all smashed.
Guess who's not feeling very helpful at the moment? I wish my coups de grâce would bloody hurry up and grace me with it's presence while there's still someone left to organise the funeral. There's nothing like a bit of gratuitous self-pity to really get the bbq started.
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