I Love Squid…

Once again The Katt Box has been rather quiet and with good cause.  Firstly I honestly haven’t had much to say because there has been just too much going on, in my head and in my space.  Secondly, I have been enduring what seems to be a squid infestation.

Yes, squid and I don’t mean the calamari steak type.  A week or so ago I found a delightful ’self-help’ article in a women’s magazine.  Normally I don’t read self-help articles (basically because I know some people, namely myself, are beyond help) or women’s magazines (the ”Get a bikini bum in three weeks” articles are becoming a bit stale).  However in light of the fact that The Odd Couple moved house, I got to bring home all the items which they just didn’t feel like packing.

In the Woman & Home (see, definitely not something I would buy) January 2006 publication is a lovely article entitled “You Have the Right to Remain Silent” penned by a lady with a lovely sense of humour, Martha Beck.  The entire article struck a chord but there was one bit that hit home harder than the rest.  If I may quote:

“Squid is my word for people who seem to be missing their backbones but possess myriad sucking tentacles of emotional need.  Like many invertebrates, squid appear limp and squishy – but once they get a grip on you, they’re incredibly powerful.  Masters at catalysing guilt and obligation, they operate by squeezing pity from everyone they meet.”

Oh, admit it!  Everyone has had a squid or two in their lives at some stage or another.  These are the people who complain about their boss but never do anything constructive about it, the people who complain about their relationships but a year later you are still hearing that he/she is involved with an inconsiderate cow/jerk.

This article came to my attention after having spent a particularly trying morning with a friend who is going through more than just hell on earth at the moment… correction, for the last two years.  As he (finally) walked out the door it became painfully clear that all the good, logical advice which has been laid at his feet was for nothing.  His announcing of his intention to try and make amends (when he hasn’t done anything wrong) with the cause of his own personal hell made me want to grab the fridge and bludgeon him to death with it.

The sheer mental exhaustion morphed into physical exhaustion and the simplest tasks took extreme amounts of superhuman effort on my part.  Needless to say, by the time my weekly guitar lesson swung around I found myself having to apologise profusely to my long suffering guitar teach because I hadn’t touched my beloved guitar once in a three week period (okay, I had ‘flu as well at some point).

Now, my guitar teacher also has a degree in psychology (I tend to be a ‘quality’ kind of girl when it comes to selecting teachers).  After a (bad) rehash of Eric Clapton’s Tears in Heaven we had a long discussion about squid.  After I regaled him with my tale of being a squid magnet, he said something very true – it is one thing to be a good listener but if six months later you are still hearing the same story, it might be time to get nasty (this strategy is the suggested one in the aforementioned article).

My problem is I have yet to learn the art of being nasty.  But life is nothing but a learning curve, isn’t it?  Which is something squid should maybe try and learn – in everyone’s life there are bad things you cannot change ever or at that point.  There is no point in continually complaining about it – if you can change it, change it.  If you can’t, shut up, accept it, deal with it and stop annoying everyone around you!

So, to the folks out there who can cry on a friend’s shoulder and then get on with life, I salute you, I applaud you.  With regards to squid… perhaps one should adopt the Hannibal Lecter approach:  ”I love squid, they taste just like calamari.”