![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) cultofskaro |
[23 Oct 2008|09:01pm] |
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Painfully unremarkable was the way my mother chose to describe the morning of July 8th, 1989- the day I sprung forth from my mother's womb and made my presence in this universe known to all that would listen which incidentally happened to be anyone within a 5 mile radius- and she obviously lied. My brothers and sisters all agree that I became their saviour that day, my amazing display of heroism and bravery saved them from the horrors of having to visit great grandmother Hatton and if you had the misfortune of ever meeting that woman you'd understand why at the age of 89 she'd make your blood run cold when she curled her finger in your direction and said “Come 'ere, you insolent child.” She finally died at the age of 103, and it might seem like a horrible thing to say (it probably is) but she outlived all of her 3 children and even a few grandchildren. She lived a long and happy life terrorising people. GREAT GRANDMOTHER HATTON WAS A TERRORIST. One day that will make it into rag mags and there will be a photo of her laying in her casket all peaceful-like but even at her funeral I expected her to sit up and laugh at everyone who attended. That haunted my dreams for years to come. Enough of her though, the person who probably tells the most accurate version of my birth is my dad, bless him. "The day you were born your mother reminded me of the day she informed me she was having yet another baby... another one and you know what I said? I said 'Oops' then went on about my business. That woman never let me live that down, even now almost 18 years later I'm still apologizing for it... the 'Oops' not you of course we kind of like you now." So if anyone wonders where I get my sense of humor from it's all dad.
I was born in Aberdeen, Scotland seventeen and a half glorious years prior to this date, my dad was still working as a drama professor at the University of Aberdeen and my mum was... well she was what everyone expected her to be with six children and one on the way; Professional calf wrangler... or you know, just a housewife. She had Michael, James, Glenn and Olivia, Fiona and Maeve to look after so that in itself was mind boggling to most normal individuals- my mum though managed to do it all without breaking a sweat. "How did she do it?" You may ask yourself... and I'm still not entirely sure how she managed that. All I know is if she glared at you for more than 3 seconds you were to get up and run or have a brilliant excuse for doing what you did and weren't supposed to be, if it was a shite excuse... you died. Okay so death may have been a bit severe it was more of a one week without (insert whatever you enjoyed here). I think this is supposed to be more about me and less about them so let's fast forward a few years.
Michael had just gotten into University when I went into school and he'd come home on weekends and say "Whatever you do when you're older don't let dad convince you to take drama, he's a right sadist when it comes to his students." Of course back then I didn't know what sadist meant nor did I care, I only knew I was told not to do something and like anyone else would have it was the one thing I decided then I wanted to do. We moved to London because Dad got a job teaching Drama a school which shall remain nameless because he still teaches there and I may or may not be taking classes with him in the next year, I was 7 and the minute we moved to London my mum signed me up for drama and vocal lessons at the local theatre at the age of 7 and apart from the occasional "Alice in Wonderland" and nativity plays I really didn't do much since everyone was considerably older. It wasn't until I was twelve, as the understudy for Lady Macbeth in the teen production of Macbeth that someone pulled me aside and asked if I was serious about acting. Um, I WAS 12!!! The only thing I was serious about was eating rocks and pushing boys in the mud. And being the first lobster in the nativity play because there was clearly more than one lobster present during the birth of Jesus. Come to think about it... I still want to be the first lobster.
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