It’s my Duty

So I am writing this today not because it is my art or my passion or my craft practice or for any other reason than it is my duty. Duty and honour. Things that, according to many men to whom I’ve put the question (usually, but not always after plying them with alcohol), two concepts which most women of their acquaintance cannot grasp. Now mind you most men think that I think like a man, and, not entirely sure, but they intend it as a compliment ladies. However, as I am decidedly not a man, they also get very confused and then can’t decide whether to take what I just said as coming from a buddy or from a woman. Of course I revel in their confusion, in fact, it is on such things that my entire mystique is founded.

Not that they are correct, women deeply understand both the concepts of duty and honour but generally from the lens of love and family first. Strangely, it is the extremes of the human condition, status and survival around which women are most finely tuned. For example, a woman has a hard time understanding a spouse who puts himself in harms way for a buddy who, let’s face it, is an alcoholic wife-abusing asshole. She cannot understand that he owes that buddy a debt, and that the fact the she and the three kids currently rely on him for support should trump some past experience in which she had no part. In truth, he knows at a level deep and true, that she, as his wife, and they as his kids, will not only go on without him, but will grow and thrive. And so he must – honour and duty.

Man, the places that your head goes when you are tired.

So I wasn’t going to write. I am tired and cranky and feeling a bit unappreciated. And I had this idea that this Blog would be all sunshiny and happy and positive go-fight-win! Rah! About writing. But, since the reason that I am tired and cranky is that I have been fulfilling my duty and honour as a writer, I thought, “Hey, better share that”. Funny that I should give a rat’s ass about presenting a balanced account of a writer’s life – because who the hell am I to judge Balance! Hah!

And so, I have been kicking it hard all weekend on the PhD handbook, and I am very cognizant of having every UBC thing in the very best shape possible before I depart for my week of C and W (cruising and writing). But my brain is a bit adrift. Making a hundred decisions a minute can do that to you.

There are so very many things in this life that I am not good at; I am not the person to call when your cat is sick, grammar is really not my thing, I am not the person to send your kid’s book manuscript to if all you want is a “It’s brilliant”. I am not the person to call when moving house or landscaping the backyard (unless you want me to be the one to bring snacks). While I am an amazing lover, I suck wildly at being the traditional girlfriend. I am better at spending money than saving it, and during every single housekeeping task I mourn for the books that I am not reading, the stories I’m not writing and the guitar I’m not playing, not to mention the handsome young men I am not kissing.

But as a Writer do I give value for money. You bet your rat’s ass I do. I have neither beauty nor riches nor love – but I have my work ethic God Damn It. So there, you have all been warned. Cast aspersions on my ethic at your peril. Ole’ Bill says that hell “hath no fury like a woman scorned”. Honey, I will forgive you a dozen slights and hundreds of lovers-but never, never imply by word or deed that I don’t earn my $1.50. For you see, I have nothing else. Nothing. Who I am as a writer, a valued and loyal employee, is everything. I am nothing else. Lover, dancer, friend, daughter, sister, aunt, actor, athlete, Francophile, chef, musician, painter, baseball fan, intellectual, philanthropist, beloved. These are aspirations, people, not facts. But what is, what is ever and always true, is that I’m a great writer and a loyal employee. Wow, that sounds weak when I type it out. But in truth, I have nothing else. Not even a gold fish. Christ, the orchids are even on borrowed time.

And so, I am, tired, cranky as hell and lucky as all get out. I have an awesome job situation, superlative friends, supportive family, intriguing and challenging colleagues. And now, most precious of all, time – time to re-coop, eat Whole Foods take out with Tuscan bread and New Zealand wine, play my guitar and watch back episodes of Hung before playing on-line poker and saying “lights out!” before 10 p. m.