Single in France

I don’t have much patience for ‘sad-sack’ women of the ‘poor-me’ variety. In fact, it would be fair to say I’ve none at all. I dislike the whole ‘woe is me’ thing and I disliked the dogged, mournful expression they wear.

“I’m so hard done to… life’s been hard… I’ve had some hard lessons to learn…”

Bleurgh.

I feel more sympathy for beetles and wasps. I don’t know why. They seem to press every button I have. I don’t like the way they depend on men, since I refuse to do that. I don’t like how they see the universe as a cruel place, which it can be, but it’s beautiful too. I don’t like the whole spinelessness and inability to change their lives without intervention.

And today, one of these women has really pressed my buttons, so much so that I’ve deleted and blocked her on facebook. I reserve that activity for one ex-boyfriend and some ex-pupils I don’t want to be bothered with.

She set me off, right at the beginning. She’s lived in France for three years. Doesn’t speak a word of the language after all that time. Told us she had 3 kids. She has 6. She has 3 who are older, who she abandoned to go and live in France, including a son who is now 15 and was 12. What kind of mother does that??! She has 3 kids with her ‘new’ ex, who she says abandoned her. The fact is she was living the life in France and he was back home earning the cash. That’d do my head in as well. She wanted freebies from people. I have no furniture. I have no food. I have children. I’m cold.

She attracted sympathy and a good load of ‘go home’ comments. I tried to help a little, saying she should get a job. French towns have wonderful garderies and two of her kids are in school already. She said she was a fully trained Microsoft engineer and web designer – skills also required in France. I translated some documents for her and encouraged her to get a job. I’d do anything to stay in France, including working in England. I don’t care.

Anyway, I looked at her ‘websites’ – sooooo shit. Really bad. Mine was better and I am just a lowly workaday woman with no web design skills at all. They were tacky and hideous, made in Frontpage, I guess and horrendous looking.

She added me on Facebook, so I accepted, even though it sticks in my craw to be nice to her. She’s had several poor me kind of comments that I’ve ignored. I have several issues with her. One is that she seems to think a man will make things right. She needs a new husband to ‘take care of her’. Bleurgh. I hate this. I never needed a man to take care of me, though they are pretty useful and I love men dearly. I’m not a man-hater. I enjoy being single. I don’t like being lonely, but then I have friends for that. I hate the idea that 100 years after suffrage a woman still ‘needs’ a man, financially. Especially a man to take care of her six kids who aren’t his. I hate, too, that she would rather be on benefits. I’d rather poke my eyes out. She seems to think she’s different than the Karen Matthews’ mums on benefits who have 6 kids. Her eldest had a kid herself at 18, as did her second eldest. Great! More people sucking off the welfare state teat. And I hate, most of all, this ‘I’m so hard-done-to’ thing. Bleeee.

I have had shit happen. I’ve caused some shit. I’ve deserved some shit. I’ve had shit happen that I really didn’t deserve. I’ve lost good people. I’ve lost friends. I’ve lost loves I wish I still had. I’ve been ill and I’ve been depressed. But it never once crossed my mind to bleat about it in public and play the poor martyr.

In fact, so ‘stiff upper lip’ am I that no-one knew I was suffering from depression. Not at all. When I told my boss, he couldn’t believe it. I was wearing orange shoes and an orange skirt and a white jumper. I was singing as I came into work. He couldn’t believe ‘sunny little’ LJ could be a sufferer of the blues. And that makes me a bit proud. It also makes me very stupid, because people could have helped me. But I didn’t want their pity. And Miss Jill does. She likes it. She absorbs it and feeds off it. I can’t stand this.

So, when I had a bit of a status-rant yesterday about the people behind me arguing and swearing about who should change their baby, she said she couldn’t believe how bad things were in England, and what a shame it was that she couldn’t ‘get on the system’ in France. And I was astonished at the temerity of a person who will expect another country to feed them, clothe them and allow them to live in relative luxury.

I mean… come on! Maybe my mother should have taken us all to Barbados when my dad left and tried to claim the dole there??! Bloody hell… the life we could have lived! Sitting in the sun in a house paid for by the government, sipping on cocktails. I must be missing the point. I didn’t think benefits were a freebie for slutty women who could squeeze out a few pups and who wanted to live in the sun?! I’m blessed my mother didn’t run off with a new fella and go to Spain and live off benefits.

It really gets my goat that people depend on benefits. They’ve only existed for a relatively short period of time, and before that, it would have been the workhouse for you. Charity and pity and begging. That’s what you do in the majority of the non-G8 world. It’s good we have a system, but it’s for those who can’t work. And last time I checked, a child wasn’t a disability. It is a blessing to have a child. It disgusts me that some women don’t see that. And, I’m sorry, with 6, when there’s 3 you aren’t paying attention to already, then you’re not being a mother. At least Angelina Jolie has nannies and doesn’t depend on benefits.

I’m sure she would say she’s ‘entitled’ – this newly-fashionable word for people who believe everyone else owes them a living… but why??! You have one life, why would you want to spend all of it being a wet lettuce??! It’s like those women who bleat on about their husbands’ abuse. Either suck it up or leave. Either accept it, or don’t. It’s the same with whingey people at work, in life… if you don’t like it, do something – anything – but don’t whine about it!

Anyway…. rant over. She’s blocked and deleted. I hope I never see her in real life, for such social-suckers disgust me with their whole ‘poor me’ demeanour. Grrrr. I hope she finds a spine soon.

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