Author: Miriam Drori

Author, editor, attempter of this thing called life. Social anxiety warrior. Re-Connections, a collection of short stories, published with Ocelot Press, 15/10/2025.

Categories
Blogging

My readers are all…

Women? No.

Writers? No.

British? No.

Nice people? I think so.

There’s only one thing I can say about all my readers. You can all read English. You can probably also write it and speak it. And that makes you very lucky.

This fact was brought home to me on my recent short trip to Prague (which was fascinating).

On two occasions I witnessed the problem of being Japanese. In our hotel, we waited patiently while the hotel staff tried to explain to a Japanese couple that they had nothing to pay because their stay had been paid for. I felt like clapping when the penny finally dropped.

In an art shop, where I waited patiently for my artist husband to choose a painting, I decided to help the conversation along:

Japanese Man: Can I pay yen?
Shopkeeper: Can you pay what?
Me: Yens. He wants to pay in yens.
SK: Japanese money?
JM: Japan money.
SK: Oh, I don’t even know … err….
M: The exchange rate?
SK: I don’t even know exchange rate.
JM: Ah. I pay yen?
SK: No. No yen.
JM: Ah. What pay?
SK: Krone or Euro.
JM: Ah.

Aren’t you glad you know English?

Of course, there’s at least one country where it’s hard to get around knowing just English. It’s called Japan.

Categories
Books

Dear Agony Aunt

I don’t know what to do and I’m hoping you can help me. I’ve been with my partner for four years. It’s been wonderful to have him by my side, supporting and encouraging me, urging me on. But recently he hasn’t been around so much. And sometimes we arrange to go out and he cancels at the last minute. I miss his support and encouragement. So I’m thinking of looking for someone else online, either instead of my partner or in addition to him. Is this a good idea?

Actually this is about my writing group. (If my husband is reading this, you can relax now.) I’ve been going to it for four years and it’s been wonderful. Some members have come and gone, while two others and the mentor have stayed. But sometimes people can’t come. Sometimes I can’t come. So we reschedule the meeting or postpone it. When this happens at the last minute, because someone can’t make it and we don’t have the quorum of three members plus the mentor, I get frustrated. The group forces me to write. If we don’t meet, it’s hard to continue. And I want to write more, not less.

I don’t think there is a similar English-speaking writing group in Jerusalem, so I’ve been wondering about online groups. Are they a good idea? How do you find them and how can I find one that suits me? I know I’d miss the social aspect of our fortnightly meeting if I left my group and wonder whether I could manage to belong to both.

Does anyone have any advice? ~Frustrated Writer

Categories
Rhymes

My mother said…

My blog stats have been going up and down like a dancing dolly. Not like a yo-yo. Oh no! Because that would be a cliché, which would never do. Besides, that gives me a chance to remember the rhymes and songs my mother used to recite and sing to me.

Dancing Dolly had no sense,
She bought a fiddle for eighteen pence,
And all the tune that she could play
Was ‘Over the hills and far away.’

Daisy, Daisy,
Give me your answer do.
I’m half crazy,
All for the love of you.
It won’t be a stylish marriage,
I can’t afford a carriage.
But you’ll look sweet upon the seat
Of a bicycle made for two.

I’ve got sixpence.
Jolly, jolly sixpence.
I’ve got sixpence to last me all my life.
I’ve got twopence to spend
And twopence to lend
And twopence to send home to my wife.

There were many more songs that we used to sing together. And on this day, when I’m feeling frustrated because my writing group meeting has yet again been cancelled at the last minute, it’s good to remember my mother as she once was, and to remember that there were happy times in my childhood.

Categories
Reunions

Reunions II: To every reunion there is a different reaction

I’ve been to three reunions altogether. Each time I was left with a different feeling, although two of the reunions were mostly with the same people.

The first one was with people from my secondary school. (That’s high school in the US. Maybe even in Britain now – I don’t know.) I spent seven years at that all-girls’ school – from age 11 to age 17 – and when I left I didn’t want any connection with any of those girls. It was that bad. And so it would have remained if it weren’t for the Internet and getting in touch with four lovely women who happened to be former colleagues. These women, via numerous emails, helped me to come to terms with the events of the long-distant past. It wasn’t that I blamed them or any of the girls at school; just that I wanted to block it all out. But, as I’ve said before, I think that was a mistake.

Anyway, the four all invited me to stay in their homes before the reunion, and by the day of the reunion, I wasn’t feeling too nervous about it. The event turned out to be very enjoyable and the best part of it, for me, was that everyone there treated me as a normal person – as opposed to our school years when they didn’t, as I remember. Actually, the hardest part was the conversation between those four and me after the reunion, which foreshadowed the subsequent reunion, but I ignored that and revelled in my feelings about the main event.

My next reunion was at my college of London University. It brought back memories of living in the impressive Victorian building, but not many memories of the students. In fact, in contrast to the people I went to school with, hardly any of the former students were familiar to me – apart from the few I’d kept in contact with. So the reunion was enjoyable but disappointing. I decided to give the next reunion, to be held this month, a miss.

The third reunion, again of my school, left me feeling very different from the way I felt after the first one, despite the fact that most of the participants had been at the first one, and they were all just as pleasant. We sat around a table and remembered our shared past, as one does at reunions. And I realised that we didn’t really share a past. That I didn’t remember the things they remembered, and they didn’t remember the things I remembered. And also, that the things I remembered were things they probably didn’t want to hear. They wanted to talk about the fun times and I didn’t remember any, because I wasn’t part of them.

So, it seems I’ve had my fill of reunions. How about you? From the comments to my previous post, I see I’m not alone.

Categories
Reunions Rhymes

Reunions I: It’s a Rhyme this Time

I think this will be the first of a series of posts about reunions. If you want to say anything about reunions – whether you attend them or avoid them, whether you’ve had good or bad experiences, or anything else – please add your thoughts to the comments section. Thank you.

I’m going to a reunion today.
I think it should be fun.
I’ll see the girl who ran away,
Because she decided to follow the sun.

I’m going to a reunion today.
I think it’ll be amusing.
I’ll see the boy who couldn’t stay,
After he fiddled the wiring and fusing.

I’m going to a reunion today.
I think it will be jolly.
We’ll laugh about ancient Mrs. Gray,
Who never left home without her brolly.

I’m going to a reunion today.
It certainly won’t be dull.
I’ll tell them about my holiday
In Majorca – if there’s a lull.

I went to a reunion today.
That’s all I have to say.

Categories
Uncategorized

Looking Back

Remember the story of Lot’s wife? She was being taken, along with her family, away from her town of Sodom, which was about to be destroyed. They were told not to look back, but Lot’s wife did look back at the burning city and was turned into a pillar of salt.

If I mention something about my childhood, particularly about my experiences at school, someone is likely to say, “That was a long time ago. Now you have a family, friends, life is good. Best to move on.”

But that’s precisely what I did for a long time. As soon as I left school, I put it all behind me and didn’t look back. The result of that was that I had nothing to say. When others talked about their childhoods, I kept quiet. If specifically asked, I’d mumble something short and feel left out.

Now, I think that was the wrong thing to do. Our past is a part of us. If we block it out, we lose part of our personalities, of ourselves. So now I try to talk about it. I try not to listen to the voice that says, “They don’t want to know. They think you’re dwelling on the past. They think you should move on.”

Guess what? I haven’t turned into a pillar of salt. I’ve become a bit more of a real person. Talking is hard, but it’s also rewarding. And there’s always the hope that by talking I can help others, because I believe that the things that happened to me didn’t need to happen and don’t need to happen to anyone.

What do you think? Is looking back good or bad?

Categories
Social anxiety

How do you react when people think you’re incapable?

As a child at school, I’d get laughed at for things I said or did. At first, it was probably no more than any child would get from other children. But for some reason – maybe because I wasn’t used to the way children treat each other – I took it personally. And for some reason, because they all laughed at me – or so it seemed – I thought they must be right, that there must be something wrong with me. For some reason, I started saying or doing things I knew they’d laugh at, just because they expected it from me.

Now, an exceedingly large number of years later, I’m still doing it. No, I don’t get laughed at any more, but people think I’m incapable of doing things and I perpetuate that notion. This came to the foreground recently, when people – nice people – clearly felt that I couldn’t cook, or clear up, or ask a stranger a question, or drive. And instead of showing them that I could do these things, I let them carry on thinking what they thought and even said and did things to make them more sure of their view of me. (Except when it came to driving; I didn’t want to cause an accident!) Why? Because if that’s what they think, they must be right. That’s how my mind works. That’s how I’ve always reacted. Unintentionally.

It’s hard to change the habits of a lifetime, but I’m going to try, because I’ve had enough. Because they’re wrong and I need to show them that.

So how do you react when people think you’re incapable? Or doesn’t that happen to you?

Categories
Uncategorized

Announcing the Winner

Well, I tried to run a competition on my blog, but in the end there was only one entry. The good thing was that this made my job of judging very easy. But I expect Annette would have preferred to have won against some other entries.

Just as I was thinking that I made a mess of this and wondering whether the task I set was too hard, or I didn’t advertise the competition enough, or I’m simply not worthy of holding a competition, Gill wrote this:

“I liked Annette’s entry and I’ll be happy to give her the prize, but wish my fractals had inspired more entries.”

So, while I was blaming my blunders, Gill was blaming her fractals. I suppose that’s better than blaming each other, although this points to a certain lack of confidence.

Hopefully, by my blog’s next birthday I’ll be more confident about running a competition. Or else I’ll let the day come and go without mentioning it.

By the way, whether you like it or not, I’m back from my bit of life and I have some ideas for posts lined up, so do come back soon.

And congratulations to Annette!

Categories
Uncategorized

Deadline Extension

It was silly of me to think that I would have time to handle the competition just now.

The new deadline for my competition is Wednesday, 14 April, 2010. You still have time to win three fractal images. The rules are here.

Happy writing!

Categories
Uncategorized

Normal service will be resumed

Is anyone else old enough to remember this?

Please do not adjust your sets.
Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.
We apologise for the break in service.

Sometimes real life intervenes. I should be back to normal in two weeks. Maybe less….
In the meantime, don’t forget my competition.