At lunch with a friend talking stuff and things and she told me of a show she'd watched entilted'The Lost Generation. Apparently I'm a part of this lost demographic of 18-30 year olds, gee thanks label makers. I can't describe my anger at this label, and I'm usually quite articulate about my anger, I'm a very angry little person.
I think studies and 'documentaries'like this exist to keep sociologists and statisticians in jobs. Its a way to keep busy and occupied labelling in one sweep all these people. I hate the loss of individuality in this labelling of a generation. There is no taking into account personality, history , relationships, psychology, likes, dislikes whatever elements make you, as the individual, up. Just because of this stupid scare-tactic definition in the time of recession I am one of the lost......
Shit they're kind of right though I do feel lost. Me and the boy are moving to my hometown but in limbo I am back staying with my parents with not even a job to punctuate time. I do not have the boy with me yet, he is far away job hunting too. I miss him so, so do the hounds.
Bella knew he was not here felt it as accutely as I do, was skittish and afraid in this strange place without her rock and lynchpin to keep her grounded and remind her all is ok. She dug up the garden and bullied the puppy and if dogs had tears I think she would have thrown a tantrum and wailed like I want to. I hope coming here works out. I want a nice life here, the boy, the hounds, a house and a job. I never thought I would want such simple things but oh I want them so much, it doesn't seem like too much to ask for........
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Rotten Tomatoes
This has been bothering me since just before christmas. The musicmaker told me this story and it made me weep for humanity. I was so angry and raged for the child in the story, raged at the injustice and humiliation.
So the musicmaker as a child went to the house of classmates, invited for dinner. She sat at the dinner table and whilst the family ate curry, our little musicmaker was given a tomato sandwich. I was incredulous when I heard this story.
Musicmaker is fay and sensitive and radiates lovliness. Yes miss, you are lovely. I see her as her adult self and only know her such. I can imagine a tiny, lithe imp with a long fringe falling in her eyes going to the house of classmates. I imagine she is not particularly aware or bothered that she is going here, there or anywhere, she just goes. She is of her own world and intrusions from outside rarely come,she is someone who truly just 'is'. Our little musicmaker in her own gentle world was pulled into cruel reality when instead of what family had for dinner she was given something different.
Not just different though, inferior, substandard a statement. I hated that this had happened to her, how dare those people do this? It has played on my mind for weeks. How can you invite a child into your home and then set her apart, make her feel different and unwelcome? I raged for the little musicmaker through empathy; that notion of difference and people highlighting it so cruelly. It is known that children are cruel through inexperience, selfishness and not knowing the difference. They have to be taught empathy, graciousness and the value of sharing.
What burns most is that this happened with two adults present in a family home, they made this incident occur and that makes me so so sad. But then musicaker turns to me with radiance and beauty, internal and external, smiles shares stories and interests and herself and my faith in humanity is restored.
So the musicmaker as a child went to the house of classmates, invited for dinner. She sat at the dinner table and whilst the family ate curry, our little musicmaker was given a tomato sandwich. I was incredulous when I heard this story.
Musicmaker is fay and sensitive and radiates lovliness. Yes miss, you are lovely. I see her as her adult self and only know her such. I can imagine a tiny, lithe imp with a long fringe falling in her eyes going to the house of classmates. I imagine she is not particularly aware or bothered that she is going here, there or anywhere, she just goes. She is of her own world and intrusions from outside rarely come,she is someone who truly just 'is'. Our little musicmaker in her own gentle world was pulled into cruel reality when instead of what family had for dinner she was given something different.
Not just different though, inferior, substandard a statement. I hated that this had happened to her, how dare those people do this? It has played on my mind for weeks. How can you invite a child into your home and then set her apart, make her feel different and unwelcome? I raged for the little musicmaker through empathy; that notion of difference and people highlighting it so cruelly. It is known that children are cruel through inexperience, selfishness and not knowing the difference. They have to be taught empathy, graciousness and the value of sharing.
What burns most is that this happened with two adults present in a family home, they made this incident occur and that makes me so so sad. But then musicaker turns to me with radiance and beauty, internal and external, smiles shares stories and interests and herself and my faith in humanity is restored.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Without a list one is listless
B gave me the title to this entry. It wasn't as contrived as saying 'I'm writing a blog entry about blah, what should I call it?'. In fact the quote is from about a year ago when we were talking assignments and vowing to stop procrastinating about doing them. There were reams of to do's in my messy head and I started to list them verbally to make my head stop whirring and the panic in the pit of my stomach stop. There was a reference to lists being good and then the words of wisdom from my fellow procrastinator. I know it originally came from someone else but I don't want to know who, B gave it to me.
That assignment still hasn't been done and I'm still procrastinating with regard to it. This entry is on another mental 'to-do' that I neatly get to tick off along with the 15 rows of knitting and the film review. No assignment started though.
The snow went and I'm happier but its still too late for the pipes in my house. I'm not there but the thoughts of the mess I have to clean up and deal with when I go home makes my stomach lurch and my heart quicken and my breath catch. More to put on the mental to-do until I collapse prone on the floor weeping, I'm exhausted from the list that as well as being full of my stuff is full of your stuff too and it makes me so tired and angry at you that I feel i have to do it all alone.
Control- I lost all of mine, washed away in burst pipe floods and tears of hopelessness so to get it back I cut my hair. Hacked with the good scissors, love the noise it makes as it shore all those finger-trap curls away. They fell like suicide jumpers to the floor.......
That assignment still hasn't been done and I'm still procrastinating with regard to it. This entry is on another mental 'to-do' that I neatly get to tick off along with the 15 rows of knitting and the film review. No assignment started though.
The snow went and I'm happier but its still too late for the pipes in my house. I'm not there but the thoughts of the mess I have to clean up and deal with when I go home makes my stomach lurch and my heart quicken and my breath catch. More to put on the mental to-do until I collapse prone on the floor weeping, I'm exhausted from the list that as well as being full of my stuff is full of your stuff too and it makes me so tired and angry at you that I feel i have to do it all alone.
Control- I lost all of mine, washed away in burst pipe floods and tears of hopelessness so to get it back I cut my hair. Hacked with the good scissors, love the noise it makes as it shore all those finger-trap curls away. They fell like suicide jumpers to the floor.......
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Hair. I used to hate my hair, now it's more love-hate. I like having big hair with tight curls, love how it halo's out from my face. Pixie face, big sister number two called me that today and I wanted to kiss her, I always want to kiss her anyway. Hugs and cuddles and kisses in her squeezy embrace, when she hugs she means it.
Pixie face. I used to have a pixie face when sparrow painted mermaid eyes on me and took my picture. Now I have a big moonface, full and shiny and white!! It's going away as I restrict the chocolate indulgence and I will have my pixie face again and look like me.
Hair. My hair. Many adjectives to describe, big, volume, curls, ringlets, frizz, fuzz, huge diana ross like tangle of strands. A curl tangle where fingers get trapped like flies in a spider web. Hair that does not seem common anymore in the age of straight, hot, burny straight, straightening irons. Me and my moonface and my white girl 'fro.
Pixie face. I used to have a pixie face when sparrow painted mermaid eyes on me and took my picture. Now I have a big moonface, full and shiny and white!! It's going away as I restrict the chocolate indulgence and I will have my pixie face again and look like me.
Hair. My hair. Many adjectives to describe, big, volume, curls, ringlets, frizz, fuzz, huge diana ross like tangle of strands. A curl tangle where fingers get trapped like flies in a spider web. Hair that does not seem common anymore in the age of straight, hot, burny straight, straightening irons. Me and my moonface and my white girl 'fro.
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