PostSecret

PostSecret - wow. Just...wow. Take a peek. In a confessional culture, where we all blog or journal or express ourselves with varying degrees of anonymity, it's a strange and powerful slice of the hidden and painful secrets we carry around.

It's beginning to look a lot

Okay...I'm totally going to hell for finding this funny (I say that a lot lately...I'm sure I've built up enough bad deeds to merit a penthouse condo and a personalized seat at the bar). I saw this last year before Christmas, held on to it intending to blog it, and forgot. Today, I'm cleaning out my inbox. Enjoy!

It's a BK Holiday!

I can feel it coming adrift...

Have discovered an excessive overuse of exclamation-marked urgent emails in Outlook recently. What's the old saying? A lack of planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on mine? Yeah...something like that...

Get me all blogging multiple times in a day! Maybe this is the start of a trend. Or, maybe not.

All across the alien-nation...

Read a fantastic article this morning that piqued my interest in a lot of ways. If you are of my vintage it might ring some bells for you too.

Growing up, my mom was considered to be one of the "cool" moms. This may have something to do with the fact that she's less than 20 years older than I am (a few of my friends had siblings who went to school with her). But more than that, she had a young attitude and outlook on life. She listened to some of the popular music of the day, we dressed about the same, which amounted to sorta-preppy-but-with-jeans, and you didn't have to worry about getting in trouble for swearing in front of her (though if you dropped the H-bomb, watch out). My friends were envious, because their moms were all about good nutrition and making your beds and wearing a nice pearl necklace and watching Phil Donahue and not staying up late to watch Saturday Night Live. Don't get me started on how radically different she is from that person most of the time these days.

But still. She was cool. I basked in the glory when she took JAG and me to see Best Little Whorehouse in Texas while we were in junior high. I don't think she was trying to be cool; she just found her outlook on life coinciding with mine. It was a purely serendipitous thing.

The trend discussed in this article: Up With Grups - The Ascendant Breed of Grown-Ups Who Are Redefining Adulthood in New York Magazine is rather different. The author talks about people my age still working the whole youth vibe and attempting to mold their kids into teeny Ramones-wearing, Killers-listening mini-me's.

Now, I've long argued to anyone who will sit and listen that having children means that you get to re-parent yourself. You reinforce in your parenting all the things your folks did "right" in your opinion, and use it as an opportunity to "fix" the stuff they screwed up. They didn't take you anywhere as a kid? Well, your kid will learn how to travel! Your parents forced you to go to church? Well, your kid will learn about world religions and decide for herself which path to follow! That sort of thing. Nevermind that your kid gets seasick and would welcome the structure of conventional religion - it's not really about them, and what do they know anyway?

Okay, I over-simplify. But the article talks about parents who are so concerned about losing their cool that they've swung miles from what we understand parenthood to be about. Sure, your dad might have worked a soul-sucking job in order to provide stability and opportunities for you to play little league and go to college one day. Not you! No, you're never going to give up the things that make you passionate! You're going to skateboard or be a gamer or eschew suits and wear sneakers to work forever! Which, okay, are all good goals, but tend to keep you in the mindset that says I'm not really a grown-up, I'm still young! I'm hip! And it doesn't matter that I'm now completely responsible for the lives of these small people - I can still follow my passion and be hip and not change in any way from the person I was at 20. Go me!

Okay...I'm conflicted on the whole subject. I was a student for 200 years, so I stayed in the twilight of youth for a lot longer than many of my contemporaries. And I get how seductive it is, to be unfettered, to reject the stifling strictures of traditional adulthood that demand that things are no longer all about you. But still - to be the kind of parent that chases after cool to the exclusion of providing a model that a child could aspire to? Doesn't that seem a bit short-sighted? Sure, your cool-quotient among your kids' friends is high, but when does it end? Are you going to be a senior-citizen still playing shooting games and schlepping around the house in skater togs?

I know, I know. I over-generalize, and since I don't have kids of mine own, I over-simplify, and probably offend. I like to think I'd be a kinda-cool mom, the kind that didn't lay down so many rules that my kids were forced out of the house. On the other hand, I like to think that I'd still instill respect for old people and animals and teach responsibility and that sometimes you have to do stuff you don't like to do because that stuff still needs to get done.

I get that following your passion is important. I sometimes wonder how I ended up where I am, where I cut-n-paste for a living instead of working a much lower-paying gig that impacts peoples' lives. I just found other ways to do that, and enjoy the paycheque, too. I guess I'm more about balance than passion. Or perhaps I burnt out on passion while a student and a quiet non-trendy life now looks a lot better to me.

Wow...I wandered all over the map with this one. I guess I'll blame Hollywood and the PR machine that says that the only valuable culture out there is youth (not entirely true - the other valuable cultures are 'old, rich white guy' and 'celebrity'... yeah, that's about it). There are no good, solid adult role models out there. Being an adult means being uncool, and being uncool is only useful as a foil for how cool everyone should be. Hey - if we all end up cool, does that mean that uncool will become the new cool, like 30 is the new 20 and auburn is the new blonde?

No white flag above my door...

...okay, so the whole blog-a-week thing didn't pan out. Anyone surprised? C'mon...raise your hands. Right. So. Well.

What's been going on since last I wrote? Well, yesterday I officially kicked off the new year with the first fall of the season. In my defense, I tried to prevent it by wearing sneakers instead of work shoes, but still went arse over teakettle in the parking lot. As a new twist for 2007, I shotput my purse away from me, with enough g-force so that it didn't lose any of the coinage in the unzipped pockets, and soundly thumped the truck nearest me, causing the driver, who was sipping coffee, reading the paper and minding his own bidness, to near-bout shat himself trying to figure out what the earth-shaking thump was. Happily, I walked away from the fall without mishap and had nary a twisted ankle or popped knee to bitch about.

What else? Oh, my contractor finally came out of the woodwork and gave me a painting quote. Quite a bit higher than I anticipated (Damn Francesco and his expensive colours!), but at this point, I'm willing to pay almost anything to put this thing to bed and start living in the house that I'm paying for. I probably shouldn't cop to that, particularly since I haven't received a flooring quote, the mere thought of which already has me eyeballing my remaining inheritance warily.

Haven't spoken to anyone in ages and ages...hermitting big-time. Might have to invite Basia over this weekend, as I need solid motivation for cleaning my house. Still haven't packed a jeezly thing, either, which at some point might become problematic. I'm anticipating giving notice at the end of this month, which means I need to be packed and book movers and arrange for someone to come in and give the place a thorough scrub before I hand over the keys. I guess I've been taking full advantage of the calm before the storm. An organized person (ShammaLamma) would have a plan in place, although a disorganized person (ShammaLamma...she's got lots of facets) still would have no actual work done. I need a timeline in place soon so I can figure out when I need to take time off to get the big move and unpack accomplished. Really looking forward to that. No...really.

Joshie's birthday is this week. Mustn't forget that. I'm looking forward to being in the new place and having room to have a few projects on the go. I want to give the bratlings homemade scarves and/or toques for Christmas next year, but haven't really got the room or the comfort to attempt in my current environs.

Getting the antique couch/chair set I inherited along with the house recovered fairly shortly. I talked mom out of everything she liked and willfully chose something that appealed to me. It's going to be pricey, but cheaper than buying new, and the set is built like a tank. Plus, they strip the thing down to wood anyway, so it's like new. Plus, it's like 9 feet long and the best napping couch (what...I had to test it out).

License plates I've seen on the roads recently that made me snorfle: cugrrrr, ehtozed, giphted. Bumper sticker: Let me be your plumber. I want to buy a hummer.

On that note...later hosen.

Sky of memory and shadow...

Trying something new this year - the weekly blog.

So, you ever have one of those days where you can't get a song out of your head? Something old and half-forgotten? I get that a lot, mostly because I listen to Jack, which bombards me with old tunes (sidebar: I was reading a list of MSNBC's list of the best 10 albums of the year, and I didn't recognize one of them. Worse, I only barely recognized the artists. This does not bode well for my waning quotient of cool).

Anyway: old tunes. Instead of getting stuck in an endless loop of some disco tune, or Weird Al's White and Nerdy (okay, that was last week's recurring song), this week, it's old snatches of songs from elementary school. Does anyone recognize these?

• I love to go, a-wandering, along a mountain track....and as I go, I love to sing, my napsack on my back....valdereeeeeee valderaaaaaaaa... well, it goes on, but there's no need to punish everyone.
• something with a chorus of Ocky-tocky-unga and a tickle of a memory that it's supposed to be about the Inuit.
• Big A, little a, bouncing B...the cat's in the cradle and he can't catch me (okay, more of a rhyme than a song).
• I'm a little piece of tin, nobody knows where I have been...got 4 wheels and a running board, I'm a 4 wheel, I'm a Ford, honk-honk, rattle-rattle-rattle, crash beep-beep... it goes on in that vein.
• Once a yodler went yodeling in a mountain so high, when along came a pretty girl interrupting his cry.... (there are actions and exclamations for choruses, far too many of which still live in brain).

The weirdest was waking up one morning with the complete We Three Kings of Orient Are running through my brain. Sure, it was Christmas, which gave me an excuse, but I know darned well I haven't heard the song in years, and haven't sung it in nearly 20 years. And I still barely know my address and consider myself lucky on a daily basis that I can find my way home. Sheesh!

What else can I share about my week. It was kind of quiet, all things considered. Our major project is wrapping up on the weekend, and then it'll be time to start working on all those things that we've been back-burnering, assuming the new boss doesn't have different priorities for us. What else? Oh, nothing out of the ordinary. Just one mostly-naked coworker in my office this afternoon (you know who you are!). You know... same-old, same-old.

My computer is back and running, although it still has enough quirks to piss me off. It's latest trick is to refuse to display any of the text on some of my favourite web sites, like the Drudge Report. It opens the page, displays the skeezy broke-neck picture of Saddam and refuses to display text. Argh! I've found a work-around, but it irks me to have to do that. Oh well.

Oooh...and I got a camera for Christmas, so there's officially no excuse for me to not post pictures now. Not that there was an excuse before, but, well, you know. Once there's actual progress on my new place, you can expect to see the odd image here for your amusement and edification.

Until then...adieu.