To my multitudinous mass of multicultural, card carrying aficionados...or my three followers, what have you, I want to warn you that this post will be a bit different than anything else I have attempted. You see, while I feel that my last five posts were examples of "decent" writing, I do not think that they impressed much meaning to those of you who read religiously...aka Dad. Yes, I stuck to my original goal--describing the aspirations of women that long before I, or even my grandmother, stepped foot on this Earth, managed to prove that women were and are worthy of competing and challenging men. However, I think that I could be a bit more creative. I mean, if you want to learn about Belle Boyd, you could go to Wikapedia just as easily as my site.
Look, what I want to say is, I want you reading my blog because you're interested in what I have to say...my perspectives and how I articulate them. I don't want you reading simply because you're curious who Joan of Arc is...grab an encyclopedia if that is the case. Don't waste your time here.
Whew...glad I got that off my chest...as cliche as that sounds.
Now, on to bigger brighter things...in a sense.
~
The thing weighing on my mind right now is the vulnerability of family, and really our whole outlook on what certain abstract emotions are--like loyalty or even love. I was sitting at my desk earlier and I was eating chocolate (of a certain brand that rhymes with above). This particular brand has an outer foil wrapper that has the brand name on the outside and a cutesy, make-you-want-to-vomit-confetti-and-pink-balloons saying on the inside. After I really noticed these sayings (I must have ripped through 15 pieces before I saw the writing), I made it a game to try to find one that made sense and actually had worth.
So, eventually, I was sick to my stomach and I had read everything from "Too much of a good thing is wonderful," to "Think of everyday as Sunday." Now clearly these two statements are misleading. Too much of a good thing...aka chocolate...gives you a stomach ache; or too much of my mother...sometimes the same response. And, what about the other? If we treated every day like a Sunday, nothing would get done. Who would build roads and buildings? Who would teach children? We might as well be pious Neanderthals.
Out of stupidity or perhaps a degraded sense of will power weakened by massive amounts of sugar, I opened one more. This one I ripped. After pushing the two pieces back together, I saw that it had said, "The most enjoyable experiences are often free." Now this, these seven words are so achingly true that I became enraged at my own lack of self control. Why had I ripped this stupid foil? Was it because I had given up...relinquished the thought that "Above" chocolate could come up with something meaningful?
Honestly, I am not sure. I could have drawn numerous deep, intellectual conclusions from that fatal mistake of my flawed, human fingers, but I didn't. Instead I thought about family.
Why is it that our families are so seemingly two faced? Like those chocolates, they are one thing for a long time and then you finally find the meaning. As children, we are so self-centered. We view the world from eyes that have only seen our mother's sweet face and our father's briefcase. To us, the world is made up of the same family dynamic we grew up with. Then, we become fledgelings...we leave and we return with new feathers and new sensibilities. This is when things change.
One thing I learned from those chocolates is that I can't be too eager, but I can't be passive aggressive. When the time comes that I can finally understand these differences between the family I knew and the pod of people seen by the outside, I must be diligent and careful. I cannot tear this new identity so the world is able to slip it's filthy, unconstrained hands into my life. I am both the outsider and the insider. I can change and make change.
It is my duty from each perspective.
P.S. I will still include some posts about women and their acheivements. I am a quasi-feminist afterall!
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