hey, i know her.
Television usually acts as an entertainment source for myself, but at times I use it for inspiration towards my writing and the work ethic surrounding it. On some rare occasions, however, something may catch my eye and attention that has me thinking about my very own life, and the odd sensation that hits me when I stop to think exactly what it is that I have realised.
I am Nina Proudman.
For those of you that aren’t kangaroo-riding, slang-driven Australians like us , then I suggest you get your hands on the Australian comedy/drama, Offspring, and witness what is a truly realistic representation of the urban family life here in this country.
For me anyway.
It has come to my clear-cut attention, that I am more than likely, a hundred percent, Nina Proudman. That is, internally and mentally. Anxious, control-ridden and an over-thinker. I feel as if her problems are almost my own. She stops to stutter (those who watch it will get this) and I freak out over my uncanny resemblance. She constantly finds herself floating in and out of her narrated mind, and questioning her every motive. Uncanny.
Yes, for those who are sitting there saying, “She only watches it for the cute doctor”, well, you’re half-right.
Okay, no, you’re spot on, (marry me, Patrick).
So in light of this post, I wonder what others find themselves watching television on a lazy night, curled up in bed with a cup of tea, or what ever floats your boat, and stumble across the ad break where their realisation catches up with them and …
…”Oh dear, God. I’m Marge Simpson”.
(Sorry if I have ruined T.V for you now).