Lou announces her retirement tour – ‘The End of Her Blog’

Finding out that someone might assess if they can be friends with you, date you or

continue to have some sort of association with you based on reading your short story ramblings on a blog, well I have to admit has been really rather confronting and not something I really thought would ever be an issue; I mean from where I stood and continue to stand they are just cute little, ok at times somewhat disturbing little vignettes from incidents based on encounters I have from time-to-time, with questionable spelling and grammar, but as usual and therefore thematically linked to my blog – I’m wrong- confused and wrong.

‘It’s like passing a police check’ a friend of mine told me at lunch today.

‘What you’ve created Lou is a very efficient way of finding out if anyone really wants to go there with you, without actually having to meet or talk to you; it’s been like doing everyone around you a really big favour.’

‘Charming’ I bemoaned as I stabbed at a cashew nut I wouldn’t be able to eat because I was allergic, but maybe if I went into anaphylactic shock I might have something more interesting to write about other than another problematic episode in my world.

‘Just out of curiousity’ I asked my friend ‘have you managed to top up your credit on your phone yet?’

‘No.’ He replied.

I pushed my cashew nut to the side, not wanting my life to end because my friend couldn’t afford to call 000 – I prided myself on finally having a standard, sure it was a standard of dying, but it was a standard nonetheless and what that said to me was progress.

‘Why’d you ask?’ he enquired.

‘Just trying to take an active interest in your life’ I smiled back.
‘Maybe you could start writing about mobile phone service providers’

‘Great idea, do you ever stop thinking?’

‘Don’t do that Lou, you see this is why I was warned off being friends with you.’

‘We can’t even have a conversation anymore? Is this why I need to start writing about mobile phone value deals, because I’m not doing that, I’m an artist.’

‘Ok Lou what have I told you about using that term in front of people who actually know what the definition of artist is?’

‘It’s all going to end in tears…’ I mumbled.

‘Yes and I wasn’t saying that we can’t have a conversation anymore Lou, but you know what? I’d be lying if I didn’t say that there was some concern when I mentioned to my friends that I was hanging out with you.’

‘But you’re friends already knew me; I did go out on a date with one of your friends, it is kinda how I met all of you.’

‘Ok, I don’t need a history lesson Lou, if I wanted that I’d just Wikipedia it, all I’m saying is that some of them have read your blog and just told to me to be aware that you might be a bit of handful and to be honest if anything this conversation highlights is that they might’ve been right.’

‘Of course it does.’

‘Anyway I told them it was far too superficial to base my understanding of you simply on your blog, or the fact that my friends read your stuff – I mean come on Lou it’s just a blog, everyone knows it’s all about Twitter these days. I just read your blog because well at least it means that someone out there is reading it and I do that because I consider you a friend – you know that they say about the tree falling the forest and all that.’

He ordered himself another coffee.

Perhaps he was right, I mean reading back over my backlog of stories even I have to admit that if you were to base your understanding of me on my stories then I’m distilled down to a slightly dim, sexually precocious, easily confused and neurotic young woman – who might or might not end up in a kitchen with rolled up towels and the oven door open at some point in her life with her husband masturbating on their yet to be paid off leather divan to secret video tapes of their baby sitter washing the children as the water clings to her nubile breasts.

‘Don’t get pissy with me Lou, at least it’s not as bad as someone dating you based on the fact they saw your show.’

He was right.

‘…and then ending it with you because of your blog.’

‘Ok I didn’t know that.’

‘Ah, look at you continually learning and they say you can’t teach old dog new tricks,’

‘I’m not a dog.’

‘I never said you were.’

‘But you alluded to it.’

‘Did I Lou? Or did you just take something I said and read a little bit too much into it? – are you going to blog about this?…ooh how very post-modern of you’

‘Are you sure you’re not allergic to nuts?’ I asked as I pushed the remainder of my cashews towards him.

‘Nup could all the nuts in the world and be fine, I think it’s a sign of good strong moral fibre, such a shame you’re allergic Lou but also kinda quite representative of you as a person as well.’

‘And I wasn’t being post-modern.’

“I didn’t say you were – you couldn’t be post-modern anyway, you live in Southbank.’

I watched as he played with his coffee.

The thing is I wasn’t annoyed with him, or his friend or friends in general, I was annoyed at myself for having created this – starting this whole online journey to begin with. This whole blog rose out of the fact that after going through a horrendous break-up and basically driving most of my friends away in the process because there’s a limit to how many times you can use bastard in a sentence in front of small children and couples in love, and so I started writing little stories pretty much inspired by the incident of waking up passed out in a friends house, drunk and naked with a post it stuck to me that read ‘Hi, thanks for the lend of the chairs. – Ps. I did not touch your friend, she was like that when I came by’ – the frightening realisation is that not much has changed in my life in the 3 years since then – I still pretty much wake up everyday, well not everyday, but lets say a fair few, lying on the floor with a figurative post-it stuck to me that reads ‘she was like that when I came by’ – but with the added inclusion of ‘and sure I was cool with that at the time, but then I realised she’s just not a writer but an actual living breathing human being and I really couldn’t cope with that because I have my own crap to deal with and also I hate to admit it but she’s really not very thorough when it comes to shaving her legs and I’m just not that big a fan of chaffing.’

So here it is, I’m announcing today that this blog will be coming to an end by the end of this year – now that’s not saying there won’t be some need in the future for a comeback concert of sorts, after all my career trajectory has greatly been influenced by the choices of Take That, but I think it’s gearing up to the time to put The Problematic World of Lou to rest (and when I say rest I mean take it out into my backyard with a shovel and beat it senseless, cut off it’s hands and remove it’s identifying teeth, so that beyond the miracles of facial recognition – this whole thing will just become a distant memory hidden beneath layers of concrete and that new patio I’m planning on building.)

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