For the next couple of weeks I’m handing over my blog to a brilliant collection of guest posters while we enjoy our Thanksgiving holiday. To kick us off in truly superb style, it’s the inimitable Motherventing. Her blog is currently lying dormant (although if you didn’t follow it when she was posting regularly, you should set aside a morning to sit and read through her archives), but she is still spouting hilarity and filth over on Twitter. She will be delighted by the fact that I’ve chosen an image of pink cupcakes to illustrate this post.
I recently got accused of being a ‘drama llama’ by a person.
I KNOW. Shocking, isn’t it? Basically, this person thinks I’m an attention-seeking hussy and that I PURPOSEFULLY CREATE DRAMA so that I can fill the otherwise empty void that is my life with dramatic situations that revolve, almost inevitably, around ME.
Gosh! Really? How do I manage to do anything ever? I took the bins out this afternoon. Of course, I only did that because otherwise the bin bags would rot in my back garden and then there would be a DRAMA OF MY OWN MAKING. Unless maybe, this person was referring to the actual drama that I do, within an amateur dramatics company, in which case, erm, I’m supposed to be dramatic?
Who knows. I shrug, with studied nonchalance, at the moniker ‘drama llama’, thrown so pointedly in my direction. It’s silly to accuse me thus. It really totally is. I mean, I am attention-seeking – uh, hello, I used to write a blog, on which I once posted naked photos of myself, and divulged intimate details about sex toy purchases. And I do amdram, obvs – I just don’t care if people think I am or not.
Guess who else is attention-seeking, and VERY VERY GOOD at it too? Yes! It’s our favourite punch bag, Daily Mail columnist Liz Jones, the sperm-stealing, divisive journalist with no friends, especially not within the parent blogging community, after an ill-starred recent appearance at the Mumsnet BlogFest shindig, where, erm, she talked about having no friends because of the divisive and personal things she writes about. Blimey, Liz. Steady on. Tell us something we don’t know.
Dear old Liz wrote a column about her experience the next day, cos it’s her job to write such stuff, and the world went MENTALISSIMO in response, cos that’s what people do when she writes the aforementioned such stuff. It’s almost as if NO ONE SAW THAT COMING. People, please. PLEASE. This is what she’s paid uber-squillions to do. And yeah, she’s vitriolic and rude and objectionable, but crikey, at least she’s honest. She’s not a blogger. She’s not a mother. She doesn’t understand or empathise with or even like the target audience she was paid to appear in front of for the BlogFest, so OF COURSE she’s not going to write a column about how sweet y’all were and how welcomed she felt. No way. She actually made me chuckle, cos I have some friends who don’t blog, and they don’t get blogs, and people who blog are just freakin’ weirdos, in their opinion. Liz Jones pretty much said the same thing. She doesn’t get it. Fine. Not everyone does. There’s a stereotypical image of a ‘mummy blogger’ and she hit the nail on the head. Unfortunately people get angry and start waving pitchforks, cos Liz holds up a mirror and people don’t like what they see. But, here’s the thing – no one, apart from mummy bloggers, gives a shit. That’s why she was hired, by Mumsnet. To create the blog-storm. And we all get played.
Interesting, isn’t it, that the human quality known as being ‘attention-seeking’ has such a negative value, when intrinsically, it’s what keeps us functioning as bloggers, writers, artists, actors, politicians, teachers, etc and so on? We only want to make our mark on this world, whether it’s through bile, naked photos, or, indeed, cupcakes and craft.
You may not agree with the manner in which Liz Jones conducts her business, but oh boy, does she do it with zeal. I admire her, not for her personality, but as a very cunning embodiment of all that it means to be a drama llama. Sorry, but we need Liz Jones. We even need the Daily Mail, as much as I’m vomming a bit in my mouth as I write this, if only to remind ourselves of our own ability to discern between what’s right and wrong.
I’ll shuffle off now, before I’m rounded on and backlashed to within an inch of my ego. But I will say this: if Liz had turned around and claimed, ‘Oh yeah, I’m totally happy with what I do, no regrets, I love being alone and friendless and reviled, it’s GREAT’ then I’d have a completely different opinion of her. She didn’t, though, did she? She probably doesn’t like herself very much. What she does is tough, it’s difficult, and she puts herself through some utter shit. That, my dears, is fucking hardcore. High five, Liz Jones.