Sunday, 6 November 2011

When I was at junior school, I decided I was going to become an actress. I can't remember the exact moment, but I do remember starting to internally narrate my actions. 

I had a nightie which I adored, it was knee-length with 3/4 sleeves, a boater neckline and it depicted a scene comprising two rows of telephone booths fading to a vanishing point. Men on one side, women on the other (all identical) there were palm trees too, and everything looked like bright metallic car-paint. The women were wearing tight jeans, denim jacket, giant hoop earrings and stilettos. They were 'me'.

If I was preparing a Marmite and Dairylea sandwich for myself, which was possibly a daily ritual, in my head I'd be building my part up. "Yes Peter, I'm just making some sandwiches for us. What time are you picking me up? 7:30? OK, beep the horn".  I'd go upstairs and pretend to put on stilletos and ankle socks, just like on ZZ Top's 'Legs' video. 
I don't know who Peter is, but it was always Peter, which happens to be Rob's middle-name.

This internal narration took over everything, even having a bath became an episode of my own personal Truman Show-esque life. I 'spoke' about myself in the third person.

Everyone does this to a certain extent - don't they? Maybe not.

I had a stressful evening last Thursday. 
I took all three boys for a haircut and it was a nightmare (I may blog about it once I've recovered). Next, I bought jeans for my 12 year old, the type which look as though they've been designed for someone with severe rickets. 

That was  also a horrendous experience, not helped by the  crude music in the shop which could be described as "a migraine interpreted through the medium of Gabber techno" being blasted from a cheap stereo.  I love electronic music, so you can imagine how awful it was if I'm moaning. 

To cope with this unpleasant evening (did I mention the torrential rain, and toddler who refuses to have the rain-cover on his pushchair?) I narrated the scenes in real time.

"Now, she's buying some jeans for her son, they're not what she'd choose for him. It's difficult saying no sometimes. He really wants these jeans, and he doesn't get many treats from his mum. She spends half her life living out of a suitcase, so likes to spoil him on the rare occasions they get together".

Don't ask why I "live out of a suitcase" maybe I'm a top Kleeneze rep in my 'other' life or something.

We rushed home in the rain, only pausing to look at The Gruffalo's house. This house is being renovated, it's so creepy because it looks filthy and stuck in a time warp, yet a middle aged woman lives there (it really does look uninhabitable). 
The 70's curtains catch my eye, "oh, the things Vix could make with these".

When we got home, I didn't see the mess and disorder. I live in a large house, just as described in this post.

I think it's time to start living my life. Properly.

forward to 3:49 - dream footwear

A fiver to anyone who can listen to this in it's entirety without wanting to slice their ears off

A Gruffalo, why -  don't you know?


  1. 'I had a nightie which I adored, it was knee-length with 3/4 sleeves, a boater neckline and it depicted a scene comprising two rows of telephone booths fading to a vanishing point. Men on one side, women on the other (all identical) there were palm trees too, and everything looked like bright metallic car-paint. The women were wearing tight jeans, denim jacket, giant hoop earrings and stilettos. They were 'me'.'

    I so get clothes like this.

    (Thanks for following over at Breakfast.)

  2. Toddler, torrential rain and no rain cover-orrible! and your not a shopper either are you? Ick!
    re actressing. I didn't do internal narration but did spend a lot of time acting like I was being filmed and talking in an american accent all the time. The accent drove my mum mad, she used to send me out into the garden every time I put it on until i stopped and only did it with my mates. I blame her for my never 'making it' heh heh!

  3. I do this when I'm listening to an ipod. Music blaring through headphones makes me feel like I'm in a film of my life. Pure escapism.

  4. Hello Lucy:
    Now, just imagine, that if you had stuck with the idea of being an actress then, without a doubt, at this stage of your career, famous both on and off stage as well as appearing in all major blockbuster films, you would be spared all the tiresome round of domesticity for there would be minions to carry out your every wish which would, of course, include taking your children to the hairdresser.

  5. I blink in slow motion as my life is a music video (but NOBODY KNOWS!).

    And I STILL wear stilettos with LACE socks. Doesn't everybody?

    You rock.

    Sarah xxx

  6. I dunno Hattatts, I think Luce would be the kind of 'down to earth celebrity mum' who be papped taking her 'brood' of 'adorable tots' to the hairdresser a la Angelina Jolie. Although of course there would be an assistant just out of shot.

    I used to do this as well to an extent, although it was more daydreaming elaborate scenarios than narrating real life, and would often involve Corey Haim (at a v young age, I blame TV Hits magazine) and later Tom Cruise. I don't know what Katie Holmes has that I don't. (aside from bovine passivity and dubious taste in men as an adult, obviously).

    Life is definitely more exciting with an ipod on, I do like a soundtrack.

  7. I used to have an imaginary boyfriend when I was 12 or so, called Mark. He and I lived a fantastic life, much more interesting than the one I was living in 1975, and he got to be quite time-consuming.

    I never told anyone about my dreaming though because I assumed I was not normal (in comparison with those around me).

    Some people live really weirdly. You can see it when you visit houses for sale and wonder how they managed.

  8. Oh I did that commentary/acting thing all the time too, but also assumed it was just me being weird.
    Seems we are all weird - hurrah!
    I can so relate to your horrendous evening, and if Narration Therapy helped you, it's good enough for me, I'm going to try it the next time I have a 'mare with the LBs! xxxxxx
    PS. Thanks for the ZZ Top, enjoyed that!
    PPS. Does ANYONE feel like they live their life "properly"?

  9. I don't think narrating your life as you live it is any bad thing, at least, as long as you don't do that Miranda thing and stop to address the camera about your observations or motivations. I think perhaps if the narrator is internal but has a different voice to your own, that might be a little unnerving. Or, perhaps you could try that: utilising different characterful voices as you internal story teller. I do this sometimes. Elmer Fudd seems to fit best.

  10. I used to do that commentary in my head thing, now I don't have to, I blog instead.
    That nightie of yours sounds exactly like a PVC tote bag I had in the Sixth Form from Athena.
    I'd forgotten that I'd seen ZZ Top live back in the Eighties, thanks for the reminder.
    Please ask the Gruffalo for those curtains next time you're passing. I'll make you something out of them! x

  11. I definitely did the internal narration thingy. My favourite scenario was playing with my food on my plate but in my mind I was the Galloping Gourmet (he was a celebrity chef back in the day) preparing a magnificent meal and I'd be cutting up my sausages lengthways and stuffing them with mash, then getting someone from my imaginary audience to come up on stage with me and try them.

    I'll stop now as I'm sounding a little insane. xx

  12. I too wanted to be an actress or a lawyer, same thing right? I think that's the sign of a healthy active imagination, it's life that tries to beat that out of us, don't let it!!!!
    The crazy evening with the boys sounds unavoidable at times and crappy ass weather always pisses me off when I'm trying to get stuff done! I would have took you out for a drink later, that's what you needed!

    ZZ top, I remember this video because I was like DAM I wanna dress like that !!!!!

  13. Ok Lucy you can keep your fiver, I’d rather escape with ears intact. Even fast-forwarding didn’t help. Isn’t the narration thing what all children do? I emphasise ‘children, as it was probably the stress of the situation which made you regress. Children constantly run a commentary when play-acting alone or with friends. I have a theory that the modern expression. ‘“so, I’m like. (insert own word here)” came from this.

  14. I do a similar thing - have a bit of an internal monologue as I'm walking along about what I see, generally making up stories about things and people more than myself though.

    Definitely could not get through that techno! It's like drills in the brain tissue and a whack on the bonce with a none-too-light frying pan. Wow

    You really need to blog about haircut drama!

    Jem xXx

  15. Thanks to you I now have no ears and there is blood all on the carpet....

    That house looks like it is begging to have some kind of Chainsaw Massacre type movie filmed there.

    I would raise a glass to the idea of living a good life, but I don't have one at the moment. I do however have a massive Spiderman (do NOT say a word) mug of tea, so I am raising that instead!

  16. I know what you mean about music inspires our imagination to flourish.
    Damn rain and kids,lol
    I loved that zz top video!

  17. Oh yes a budding actress i was too, even had a couple of years of out of school drama lessons but alas my folks didnt send me to stage school so i never discovered my fame ;o) Oh the joys of shopping with children, i cant even imagine taking them all for a haircut, its hard enough with just one 15 month old who has hair that grows like mad, he seriously has a 6 week hair appointment like me to have his locks chopping and you should hear the screams! Scarlett x

  18. Blimey girl, three boys out for a haircut at the same time?! You need a medal and a massive bar of chocolate.
    Yep I do something similar, but I also have to have music like I'm in a film. I walk around to the Amalie score all the time and it's a great disappointment when I realise I'm not in Paris!xxxx

  19. You ask - I answer. See my blog tomorrow for what to wear in the outdoors.

    Not sure what to wear for a Gruffalo's house mind.

  20. Hello, LUCEWOMAN.

    Awe inspiring your works...

    Thank you for your love and sincerity.
    Have a good day.

    The traditional celebration, with kimono infants.

    Japanese colored leaves, in heartwarming space.

    The prayer for all peace.

    From Japan, ruma ❀

  21. Hello lovely lady! I had a nightie in the 70's that my dad bought for me on my 8th birthday. It had one of the crying children on the front so popular in paintings at the time and said underneath "Be nice to me, I've had a hard day!" I loved that nightie so much! I used to narrate my life too when I was a kid growing up. I'd imagine I was permanently a t.v. presenter doing everything infront of the cameras. As I did my usual day-to-day stuff of being a kid, I'd narrate to my imaginery audience what I was doing with tips on how they could do a better job than I was doing! I wish I could be a fly on the wall now and listen to what I was spouting on about! Em x

  22. Made it to 1:12 of the Hardcore/Gabber - no fiver but I still have both ears. Never wanted a nightie myself though always practised my karate when wearing my PJs.

  23. Just found you via La Dama and so glad to hear your childhood third-person acting is still alive and well in adulthood - oh the things we do for a bit of sanity! Now stalking you;) xo

  24. if ponty has an amateur dramatic society, they should be auditioning you for their panto version of intolerable cruelty, but does your feller look like george clooney ?

  25. Tristan - just like him. Oh, I mean Wayne Rooney.


Sorry I am having to filter comments at the moment