Today I was browsing a friend's profile on FB. She had just posted some nice pictures of her kid, who must be like 12 years old by now (damn girl, when did we actually get to that age?). Her daughter is beautiful just like her mom, but the creepy thing to me (to me) is that they look exactly the same with the exception of eye color. Now I can only base this off of her face alone, but seriously, same face. I don't know why I define this as "creepy," but it is the word that keeps coming to mind. It's probably that I cannot fathom a) having a child, and b) one that looked exactly like me.
I would say it has taken me a good 30 years to actually be pretty happy with my appearance. Maybe my daughter would be a lot stronger and more secure than I was, but I think the perspective I am looking out is more having to deal with watching myself outside of myself. Even while knowing she is not me, I feel as if I would like at her and feel confused and wonder, wow, is that how I looked as a teenager? Then I'd probably feel really sorry for myself for not realizing how hot I was back then, and eat some hot dogs in self-pity over my lost glory days.
I asked Frijole and Fink-Nottle about this as they are also happily living without child. FN didn't think it was creepy at all and proudly kept with the stance that his wife is beautiful so why should he mind. Frijole groaned when I told her, because we both knew that was obvious, and so not the point. While Frijole did not agree quite as strongly with the creepiness of it all, she did bring up a completely different horrifying point that she finds creepy: watching her friends turn in to their mothers. That totally got me off thinking about is it creepy if your child is identical to you in person, and had me crying in the back of my closet in fears that I would start to look like my mother.
This was so appropriate because a woman I knew over 20 years ago (aka: pre-teen) posted a note on one of my FB photos saying she can see my mom in me. That's a slap to my face and spitting on the Orange Lover's grave as an insult. Beside how I may feel toward my mother emotionally, I never found her to be particularly attractive. She wasn't ugly per se, just plain in that drab English way (including some seriously mangled teeth). She had nice gray eyes, I'll give her that. I always liked to think I was adopted (because if I was an insecure child, I still had a sense that I was attractive in some sort of way that I had just not figured out yet). I asked Wikus if he felt I looked like my mother, since he's the only one who has actually met her in real life (I only have one picture of her for others to reference), and he snorted and said something like, "hell no." I don't think he said that out of love for me either. We really just don't look alike. Then again, I don't think my sister and I look anything alike, but The Boy totally thinks we do. So I concede that I may have a problem with self-evaluating my features when it comes to my family members. However, I still trust Wikus on this one, and seeing as the The Boy hasn't met my mother, I don't have to worry about anyone disagreeing with him.
The other two big topics of conversation today were television shows and the news that some douchey California elementary school banned the fucking dictionary. It is so infuriating how those 9- and 10-year-old kids know that the dictionary has words in it. Haven't we been looking up "bad" words in the dictionary, you know, since the fucking dictionary became available in all homes and schools? How is this news, and where the fuck does this school get off banning the fucking dictionary from its classrooms! Never mind the fact that kids can just go online and look up the word, or are they banning www.dictionary.com at the school, too (I'm assuming they at least have a computer in the library)? If, as a parent, you are so paranoid that your child will come across something you feel s/he should not see, then you better take that kid out of school, both public and private. Just keep your asshole, censoring bullshit out of the public and keep it at home, and one can at least hope the kids learn on their own once they get out of their parents' sheltered house.
That whole conversation with Fink-Nottle happened because I messaged him that Ex-Cop was yelling for me from his office (I always pretend to not here the first time), and even when I was listening, I still couldn't understand what he was saying; thus, forcing him to come out of his office and approach me with his question:
Ex-Cop: How do you spell "ad-ad-adjoining?"
Me: Excuse me (in disbelief)
Ex-Cop: "Adjoining" like an "adjoining parking lot"
Me: Yes, yes I know what you meant
Ex-Cop: How do you spell it?
Me: A...D...J...
Ex-Cop: "J!" Got it, thank you!
How was he spelling it? With a "G?" Anyway, I messaged Fink-Nottle to inquire why this man, a former detective, didn't know how to use his computer to find out that really pressing question? Then you really wonder about removing resources from children. What if they end up like Ex-Cop?
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
25 January 2010
14 January 2010
A Short IM With Fink-Nottle
9pm, Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Fink-Nottle: you still around and watching the netflix?
Grumples: i just sent wikus on his merry way
Grumples: now i am alone until the boy makes it home
Fink-Nottle: no adult supervision!
Grumples: indeed
Grumples: so i'm watching "teen mom"
Fink-Nottle: is that a reality show?
Grumples: yes
Grumples: on mtv
Fink-Nottle: I think I saw pieces of a reunion show when I was at the gym once
Fink-Nottle: you hate teenagers and you hate mothers
Fink-Nottle: also, you hate mtv.
Fink-Nottle: why are you watching the show?
Grumples: i have a sickness
Fink-Nottle: gotcha
Fink-Nottle: you still around and watching the netflix?
Grumples: i just sent wikus on his merry way
Grumples: now i am alone until the boy makes it home
Fink-Nottle: no adult supervision!
Grumples: indeed
Grumples: so i'm watching "teen mom"
Fink-Nottle: is that a reality show?
Grumples: yes
Grumples: on mtv
Fink-Nottle: I think I saw pieces of a reunion show when I was at the gym once
Fink-Nottle: you hate teenagers and you hate mothers
Fink-Nottle: also, you hate mtv.
Fink-Nottle: why are you watching the show?
Grumples: i have a sickness
Fink-Nottle: gotcha
16 October 2009
Describing My Stance on Marriage to Children
The Boy keeps saying "Crub Pawl" for "Pub Crawl." It makes me giggle every time he tries saying it again, but keeps saying it incorrectly. Dork.
There are so many lame things about my job (like Twit, Ex-cop and ECL for instances), but one of the nice things is they let us slaves leave for 2 hours a week to volunteer in various programs (I can't just go out for 2 hours a week free lab animals as my public service). Most of the volunteering opportunities involve children, which I think is very devious and sneaky of my job. It's an interesting weighing of evils: get out of work for 2 hours paid but interact with filthy mouthy beasts, or stay at work for 2 hours getting paid to sit miserably at my desk with spotty internet connection. Volunteering at least looked better on my resume than Slacker.
This school year, I'm tutoring 6th graders at a middle school near my house. It's every Friday around lunchtime. Today was a glorious day to meet the children. Usually I'm very nervous about the first day. Anxiety eating at me, not knowing exactly how the hour will go, or if my kids will be annoying jerks, and if I'll have to interact with the other tutors. At least today, the sun was finally out and the sky was a lurid blue that was almost too painful to look at. If it had been raining, I probably would have shown up close to tears. The sun gave me a bit of pep and fuzzy good feelings.
Since I had been to this school last year (surly 8th graders, ugh), I at least knew where to go sign in and meet up with the other tutors. I was quite focused on sending some text messages, so focused that I just couldn't be bothered to mingle. They were all very excited to meet each other, and talk about their previous tutoring experience. I didn't want to start drooling in my sleep, so I jotted off a line to my best friend about canceling our weekly call due to conflicting plans, complained to another friend about how my financial adviser screwed up my rollover, and a few texts to a friend who was yelling at me for not being at work to IM with. See, my life is busy, I can't bother meeting new people. Even if Flammo is going to turn me in to my therapist for using the cell phone as a pretext to not go through the stress of meeting new people. Whatev.
The strange thing about going to these schools to tutor is how there's always these cops around, coming out of the lunch room, lounging in doorways. If we had cops in school, I was blissfully unaware. This is an "underachieving" school, which to Texas is a polite way of saying, primarily low-income Hispanic children. I feel saying what it actually is, gives more insight to their struggles than saying "underachieving." Most of these kids know a third of English kids at other schools in the area, and so there is a struggle to get them interested in reading. I'm sure the cop hanging out in the lunchroom isn't exactly encouraging either.
My texting spree ended right when the coordinator came to collect all of us and take us to the classroom. We walked for quite some time, even had to go outdoors, and I immediately got a little frustrated since I would have to remember how to get to the classroom next week. I'm so bad with directions. I'm like, go down a long hall, go out a door, cut across some dirt, find a sidewalk loaded with breadcrumbs, and follow until you get to the right pre-fab trailer. Or at least follow the sounds of screaming, overly excited children. I hear they ate quesadillas in "Life Studies" (aka: Home Ec.) class, so I guess I'd be all amped, too.
Luckily, since I am a total loner and wasn't standing near a group of nervous first-time tutors, I was one of the first people to walk in the classroom, so I got to survey the kids and pick my group. I chose a trio of smiling girls. Last year I dealt with the class troublemaker, and I just wasn't going to go through that again. He was so distracting. These girls didn't look too shy, but not the most popular either. As 6th graders, they are so malleable, and want to please, or at least pepper me with so many questions that I have no idea which I should address first.
After getting through the complications of our names, I told them they could ask me anything they want. You know that they are just kids when you give them an opening like that, and all they want to know is how old I am. Then deny that I can possibly be that old. Thanks ladies, but it's been a long time since I was 20. They also wanted to know if I had children, if I was married, where I work, what my favorite food is, how many brothers and sisters I have (it was assumed I would at least have 2 siblings), how many tattoos I have, how old was I when I had my first boyfriend, etc. Such mundane things! It was like hanging out with someone's parents. Tackling the "why aren't you married" was a bit difficult. I want to be honest, but I also don't want to be yanked out of the program for being THAT WOMAN. The one where the parents call the school and demand to know what is being taught to their children.
How do I explain to these 11 year olds that I have never wanted to get married. That yes, they are required to take this "Life Skills" class where they spend a whole semester basically learning how to be a mother. How, when I was 11, I would have been so pissed off if someone made me take that class. I've never wanted to be a wife or a mother. Marriage is such a redundant concept to me. Can I not have a valid long-term relationship without it being sanctioned by church and government? I only want to prove my love to my man; I don't need it blessed by friends and family in a ceremony. I would hope they are happy for me every day, and hey, I don't have to spend money to bribe them with liquor and bland appetizers. Yes, I've been with The Boy 6 years, and my relationship before that was 7 years. I know how to commit people. I treat it like a marriage in that I have expectations of monogamy, security, love, being able to lie on the couch for 2 days without showering, etc. It really rankles me that the idea of marriage makes a relationship more legit. Lame. Also, like many others, I don't want to participate in something that isn't a right for every one. I'm very black and white, and try to make things as fair as possible, and dammit, that's just not fair. Gay people deserve to make dumb decisions and spend a lot of their gay money to have a gay wedding if that's what they want. I just know that I will not be held responsible for The Boys finances. Isn't that nice to know? Our money will never mix nor debt be incurred just because one of us dies. Hey, your death, sad, but that student loan, ha, someone else is going to have to pay it off, because it won't be me!
As far as having children goes. Ew. They may get in the way of all that napping I do, and my heroin addiction will not just be the same if I have to share my drugs with kids. I'm selfish like that.
I told the kids that I don't like labels. That I didn't need the state or a priest to declare us as friends, so why would I need the same for my partner. I'm not sure they totally got it, but it seemed to make enough sense for them to let it go. They do not understand why I don't have children, and I felt the first day of class was not the day to break it to them that children are disgusting and make me break out in to a nasty rash. It is always hard to break the news that they are really just one big sexually transmitted disease.
There are so many lame things about my job (like Twit, Ex-cop and ECL for instances), but one of the nice things is they let us slaves leave for 2 hours a week to volunteer in various programs (I can't just go out for 2 hours a week free lab animals as my public service). Most of the volunteering opportunities involve children, which I think is very devious and sneaky of my job. It's an interesting weighing of evils: get out of work for 2 hours paid but interact with filthy mouthy beasts, or stay at work for 2 hours getting paid to sit miserably at my desk with spotty internet connection. Volunteering at least looked better on my resume than Slacker.
This school year, I'm tutoring 6th graders at a middle school near my house. It's every Friday around lunchtime. Today was a glorious day to meet the children. Usually I'm very nervous about the first day. Anxiety eating at me, not knowing exactly how the hour will go, or if my kids will be annoying jerks, and if I'll have to interact with the other tutors. At least today, the sun was finally out and the sky was a lurid blue that was almost too painful to look at. If it had been raining, I probably would have shown up close to tears. The sun gave me a bit of pep and fuzzy good feelings.
Since I had been to this school last year (surly 8th graders, ugh), I at least knew where to go sign in and meet up with the other tutors. I was quite focused on sending some text messages, so focused that I just couldn't be bothered to mingle. They were all very excited to meet each other, and talk about their previous tutoring experience. I didn't want to start drooling in my sleep, so I jotted off a line to my best friend about canceling our weekly call due to conflicting plans, complained to another friend about how my financial adviser screwed up my rollover, and a few texts to a friend who was yelling at me for not being at work to IM with. See, my life is busy, I can't bother meeting new people. Even if Flammo is going to turn me in to my therapist for using the cell phone as a pretext to not go through the stress of meeting new people. Whatev.
The strange thing about going to these schools to tutor is how there's always these cops around, coming out of the lunch room, lounging in doorways. If we had cops in school, I was blissfully unaware. This is an "underachieving" school, which to Texas is a polite way of saying, primarily low-income Hispanic children. I feel saying what it actually is, gives more insight to their struggles than saying "underachieving." Most of these kids know a third of English kids at other schools in the area, and so there is a struggle to get them interested in reading. I'm sure the cop hanging out in the lunchroom isn't exactly encouraging either.
My texting spree ended right when the coordinator came to collect all of us and take us to the classroom. We walked for quite some time, even had to go outdoors, and I immediately got a little frustrated since I would have to remember how to get to the classroom next week. I'm so bad with directions. I'm like, go down a long hall, go out a door, cut across some dirt, find a sidewalk loaded with breadcrumbs, and follow until you get to the right pre-fab trailer. Or at least follow the sounds of screaming, overly excited children. I hear they ate quesadillas in "Life Studies" (aka: Home Ec.) class, so I guess I'd be all amped, too.
Luckily, since I am a total loner and wasn't standing near a group of nervous first-time tutors, I was one of the first people to walk in the classroom, so I got to survey the kids and pick my group. I chose a trio of smiling girls. Last year I dealt with the class troublemaker, and I just wasn't going to go through that again. He was so distracting. These girls didn't look too shy, but not the most popular either. As 6th graders, they are so malleable, and want to please, or at least pepper me with so many questions that I have no idea which I should address first.
After getting through the complications of our names, I told them they could ask me anything they want. You know that they are just kids when you give them an opening like that, and all they want to know is how old I am. Then deny that I can possibly be that old. Thanks ladies, but it's been a long time since I was 20. They also wanted to know if I had children, if I was married, where I work, what my favorite food is, how many brothers and sisters I have (it was assumed I would at least have 2 siblings), how many tattoos I have, how old was I when I had my first boyfriend, etc. Such mundane things! It was like hanging out with someone's parents. Tackling the "why aren't you married" was a bit difficult. I want to be honest, but I also don't want to be yanked out of the program for being THAT WOMAN. The one where the parents call the school and demand to know what is being taught to their children.
How do I explain to these 11 year olds that I have never wanted to get married. That yes, they are required to take this "Life Skills" class where they spend a whole semester basically learning how to be a mother. How, when I was 11, I would have been so pissed off if someone made me take that class. I've never wanted to be a wife or a mother. Marriage is such a redundant concept to me. Can I not have a valid long-term relationship without it being sanctioned by church and government? I only want to prove my love to my man; I don't need it blessed by friends and family in a ceremony. I would hope they are happy for me every day, and hey, I don't have to spend money to bribe them with liquor and bland appetizers. Yes, I've been with The Boy 6 years, and my relationship before that was 7 years. I know how to commit people. I treat it like a marriage in that I have expectations of monogamy, security, love, being able to lie on the couch for 2 days without showering, etc. It really rankles me that the idea of marriage makes a relationship more legit. Lame. Also, like many others, I don't want to participate in something that isn't a right for every one. I'm very black and white, and try to make things as fair as possible, and dammit, that's just not fair. Gay people deserve to make dumb decisions and spend a lot of their gay money to have a gay wedding if that's what they want. I just know that I will not be held responsible for The Boys finances. Isn't that nice to know? Our money will never mix nor debt be incurred just because one of us dies. Hey, your death, sad, but that student loan, ha, someone else is going to have to pay it off, because it won't be me!
As far as having children goes. Ew. They may get in the way of all that napping I do, and my heroin addiction will not just be the same if I have to share my drugs with kids. I'm selfish like that.
I told the kids that I don't like labels. That I didn't need the state or a priest to declare us as friends, so why would I need the same for my partner. I'm not sure they totally got it, but it seemed to make enough sense for them to let it go. They do not understand why I don't have children, and I felt the first day of class was not the day to break it to them that children are disgusting and make me break out in to a nasty rash. It is always hard to break the news that they are really just one big sexually transmitted disease.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)