An Unexpected Epiphany

The other day I was on the train on the way to Bicentennial Park, having recently done something I both regret and know was necessary to do and hence was feeling a little conflicted. So I was sitting there, hyperventilating slightly because of my irrational fear of catching trains, and generally minding my own business, when a group of lads walked into my carriage.

If you don’t know what lads are, they can sort of be described as generally quite stupid, rude teenage boys (it’s creepy when they’re adults) who hang out in big groups in parks or on trains doing silly/dangerous/illegal things for entertainment. Just to generalise.

At the time I was thinking about how sick I was of being the “nice girl” who people took for granted because I always end up being the one who apologises for fights and stuff (I hate conflict and am super terrible in confrontational situations) when one of the lads said,

“Oi! Shut up,” (this is heavily censored by the way,) “Look what I found ... ‘I never thought being too nice would be my greatest weakness and my greatest attribute at the same time.’”

At first I didn’t get it because the kid couldn’t read the note he had found properly and was struggling with the word ‘attribute’, but once his friend helped him out I couldn’t help thinking ... yeah! The lads are right! And suddenly it made a lot more sense and I felt better about everything and knew what to do.

I guess the moral of this amusing anecdote is, you never know when your problems are going to be answered and by who. So keep your mind and your ears open (eavesdropping is always beneficial) because even the stupid-sounding and stupidly dressed lads on your train have interesting things to say. Or read. J

Love you like pleasant coincidences.

REMEMBER THE COMMA!

Turns out, embarrassingly, that there is another BlogSpot called Regretfully Yours (although sans comma). I guess it’s not important, as long as no one mixes the two up … this other blogger makes constant references to drug use, child birth -- ‘pushing a 71 pound living being out of my vag’ (isn’t that just lovely?), and how much she wants to have an affair with her doctor. ‘I’ve decided,’ she clarifies at the end of a post, ‘that I won’t let my daughter read this until she’s at least 30.’ Some things are still permanently scarring no matter what age you are. Especially having a mother whose best advice to her friends is, ‘….fuck, fuck your brains out …. Buy those god awful expensive pair of boots. Who knows who you are going to bang in them.’

So, just to clarify, if you come across a blog with a black background, pink text and adult themes, that’s not mine. Mine is the more innocent one with daisies and not as many swear words.

Oh and also regarding awkward coincidences – there are quite a few other Clare Baxters. You know when you search up your name on Google to see what comes up?

ONE: Clare Baxter, lesbian erotica author.

TWO: Claire Baxter, Australian romance author for Mills & Boon.

THREE: Clare Baxter, aspiring author who is annoyed that there are already two Clare Baxters using her name.

And guess what? NONE of them are me. Not even the lesbian erotica author*.

… Don’t be so disappointed.

x

*Oh and P.S. by lesbian erotica author I mean author of lesbian erotica books, not an author with those sexual preferences, although she may be homosexual, but I don't know. Just to clear that up. If you cared, or something. Gosh it's late.