the seven things meme
Bettie Sharpe (who will be famous any minute) gave this one to me.
1. I worry about yelling at my kids because I grew up with a shouter parent. So every time I start, I turn it into a humorous event--I go over the top, so all involved end up laughing. ha. ha. Discipline around here sucks. The "wait until your father gets home" thing I swore would never happen, happens. He doesn't shout. He just looks at the kids with thin lips and they crumple. If necessary he speaks to them in a low, tense voice. (and sometimes I wonder if maybe shouting isn't better.)
2. I miss the denim/corduroy jacket I lost eight years ago--actually I'm pretty certain it was stolen. Every time I go into a store, I look for a version of it. I don't think I'd buy one, but I still look. Also I look for the cutest pair of baby shoes and I most definitely won't be buying them.
3. When I was 14, I went to Denmark with one of those exchange programs (The Experiment, it was called. Heh. Based in Brattleboro VT.). When I got home I knew I was going to move there so I studied Danish and ate a lot of ham. I've forgotten all the Danish I learned and haven't been back since. I didn't go back to Denmark two years later when I returned to Europe because I was afraid it wouldn't be as wonderful as my memory of it. I tend to do that--not return to places I've loved a lot.
4. Back then I traveled often, and frequently I was on my 0wn (on that first trip I went from Denmark to England and then to Brussels on my own. I look at my own 14-year-old and wonder WTF were my parents thinking? And why would they spend that much money on that sort of thing? I sure as hell wouldn't, even if I could.)
When I was sixteen I went to Germany with the same program. I spent a semester in a German Gymnasium (high school) and then. when the semester ended, I traveled on my own. I managed to book a German tour to Prague--which was in the Eastern block back then--and then I went to England and Brussels again. I was gone 4 months. Like I said, WTF? Mom? Dad? If they weren't dead, I'd call them up and ask. Hello? Dudes? WTF? No, no. I never did and never would have because they didn't need to know how stupid I actually was back then.
5. I spoke German well. I have forgotten just about every word of it and can't seem to learn any more languages. Back then I went to Europe (England, mostly. Once I went to take care of a sick friend), the USSR, the Caribbean and other places ...
And now it's basically impossible for me to get my ass to New York City, which is less than two hours away.
It's all too neat, too obvious, so those gods are punishing me for something. Gotta look back and pick out the moment of hubris. Although of course the language thing is probably middle-aged brain. It's clear that that some language chemical usually turns off when people hit a certain age.
Heh... see? I say I don't believe in a personal god yet I take things like this personally.
6. Speaking of hubris, I think I know how to garden and cook, but many of my plants die or don't bear fruit and my cooking often languishes in the fridge for days after I made it. I'm beginning to suspect I'm not as good as I think I am. Also I used to knit a lot and no one wore the sweaters I made. Hmm.
7. It's almost 11:30 am and I'm still in my pjs which were the sweats I wore last night while running on the treadmill. In other words, I need a shower, badly. This doesn't bother me as much as it bothers the people around me. When I eventually get dressed I'll wear the paint-stained jeans and the sweater I pulled from a refugee donation bag four years ago. I am absolutely right to be the mother of boys. Perhaps there is a personal goddess and she's protecting my never-born daughters. Yeah, stereotyping. Sue me.
And while you're at it, consider yourself tagged, eh? Good! Let me know where you put up your seven things. Put a link to your blog, or you can put them in the comments below. I wish cheryl would come back and give me seven things. Like how's Sirius doing.
1. I worry about yelling at my kids because I grew up with a shouter parent. So every time I start, I turn it into a humorous event--I go over the top, so all involved end up laughing. ha. ha. Discipline around here sucks. The "wait until your father gets home" thing I swore would never happen, happens. He doesn't shout. He just looks at the kids with thin lips and they crumple. If necessary he speaks to them in a low, tense voice. (and sometimes I wonder if maybe shouting isn't better.)
2. I miss the denim/corduroy jacket I lost eight years ago--actually I'm pretty certain it was stolen. Every time I go into a store, I look for a version of it. I don't think I'd buy one, but I still look. Also I look for the cutest pair of baby shoes and I most definitely won't be buying them.
3. When I was 14, I went to Denmark with one of those exchange programs (The Experiment, it was called. Heh. Based in Brattleboro VT.). When I got home I knew I was going to move there so I studied Danish and ate a lot of ham. I've forgotten all the Danish I learned and haven't been back since. I didn't go back to Denmark two years later when I returned to Europe because I was afraid it wouldn't be as wonderful as my memory of it. I tend to do that--not return to places I've loved a lot.
4. Back then I traveled often, and frequently I was on my 0wn (on that first trip I went from Denmark to England and then to Brussels on my own. I look at my own 14-year-old and wonder WTF were my parents thinking? And why would they spend that much money on that sort of thing? I sure as hell wouldn't, even if I could.)
When I was sixteen I went to Germany with the same program. I spent a semester in a German Gymnasium (high school) and then. when the semester ended, I traveled on my own. I managed to book a German tour to Prague--which was in the Eastern block back then--and then I went to England and Brussels again. I was gone 4 months. Like I said, WTF? Mom? Dad? If they weren't dead, I'd call them up and ask. Hello? Dudes? WTF? No, no. I never did and never would have because they didn't need to know how stupid I actually was back then.
5. I spoke German well. I have forgotten just about every word of it and can't seem to learn any more languages. Back then I went to Europe (England, mostly. Once I went to take care of a sick friend), the USSR, the Caribbean and other places ...
And now it's basically impossible for me to get my ass to New York City, which is less than two hours away.
It's all too neat, too obvious, so those gods are punishing me for something. Gotta look back and pick out the moment of hubris. Although of course the language thing is probably middle-aged brain. It's clear that that some language chemical usually turns off when people hit a certain age.
Heh... see? I say I don't believe in a personal god yet I take things like this personally.
6. Speaking of hubris, I think I know how to garden and cook, but many of my plants die or don't bear fruit and my cooking often languishes in the fridge for days after I made it. I'm beginning to suspect I'm not as good as I think I am. Also I used to knit a lot and no one wore the sweaters I made. Hmm.
7. It's almost 11:30 am and I'm still in my pjs which were the sweats I wore last night while running on the treadmill. In other words, I need a shower, badly. This doesn't bother me as much as it bothers the people around me. When I eventually get dressed I'll wear the paint-stained jeans and the sweater I pulled from a refugee donation bag four years ago. I am absolutely right to be the mother of boys. Perhaps there is a personal goddess and she's protecting my never-born daughters. Yeah, stereotyping. Sue me.
And while you're at it, consider yourself tagged, eh? Good! Let me know where you put up your seven things. Put a link to your blog, or you can put them in the comments below. I wish cheryl would come back and give me seven things. Like how's Sirius doing.
I'm Rawther busy, but I can never resist a meme.
ReplyDeleteLOL about the travel woes - I know what you mean. been all over, and now I hate but HATE to go in to the city.
And your parents must have been very trusting to let you go off like that.
:-)
My parents? They were clueless, god bless 'em.
ReplyDeleteDue to family horrible emergencies, there was a long period of time when I had to take care of my little sisters (who were 8 and 10 years younger than I am) after school and I did a pretty good job of it.
My older sister (who's 9 years older than me. We have quite a spread going) tells me that mom and dad were convinced I was mature and capable of handling myself. Mom and dad were wrong.