Apologies, I fell into a pit.
Carrying on with requests
So here's the thing. A lot of people I know have been having Issues of late, with husbands, boyfriends, work, family etc. Her Minkieness included. The causes are varied, from I feel stupid in class to I don't know if I can handle a long-distance relationship. But the solution, she proclaims loudly, is the same!
Okay, to backtrack a bit, in the not-so-distant past MinCat was having some emotional distress issues (those of you who knew her as a superintelligent shade of blue would remember the angst and drama of her life). The biggest issues were, of course, family related, but many were, equally predictably, boy related. The strange part was how difficult it was to actually get PAST these almost ancient issues that really were not relevant to my life anymore. So I did what any sensible kitty does, I saw a shrink.
In the course of our brief but immensely useful interaction I learnt that Mr. Dylan of my title was right all along. You see, my problem was not so much that so and so had done such and such and I felt bad about it or because of it. My problem was that I would keep telling myself it served me right for believing in so and so, or taking such and such seriously, that I was a Strong Independent Woman and should be above petty hurts, that we were all grown ups and no-one actually picked sides, things just turned out the way they did. So that people could say to me secure in the knowledge that I wouldn't object, "Come ON! Don't be difficult! If she's not making it awkward why should you?"*
What I realised was that in all the being-an-adult and you-only-brought-this-upon-yourself I completely refused to acknowledge the fact that I had been hurt by the people closest to me, and that hurt was made worse by everyone avoiding the subject and there being no space to say "yes, it was a horrible thing that happened out of the blue", even if there was no blame assigned. There was no space for me to say "Hey! She was being difficult when she pulled that shit in the first place!" even if only to myself. Which meant of course that I was refusing to be hurt and thus couldn't get past being hurt.
The point of this ramble is that while it seems like the only way to get past something is to put it away in the back of the wardrobe and lock it up, it has turned out, in my experience, to be a far better thing to just dive headfirst into it and blubber and scream and lie under the quilt watching chickflicks. In short, if you're feeling something, nevermind WHAT it is, WHY it is or whether it should be, just feel it. Don't think twice, its all right to feel. And once you're done feeling it, it will go away.
*Okay, okay, more backtracking. When I was in college, I spent the first year in a private hostel for women and the second year in a flat with three girls from the hostel. My roommate in the flat was my bestest friend. Another girl, from my class at college, who was my bestest friend THERE, was desperate for a place to live so she came and bunked with me for a month. We shall call her M for now. By the end of the month M had convinced all my other flatmates that I was a conniving gossip and was spreading all kinds of stories about them all over college. End result, I had no best friends and nearly flunked one paper. What happened the next year when we came back was that the group of friends we had in common in college had not picked sides, but had to divide time between the two of us. Being wildly enthusiastic about college community things, and not actively anti-social, I had several other people I could hang out with at the cafeteria or on the lawn at any given point, which meant that the common friends said no no she's all alone you see, thereby spending all their time with her. Which is ok, but it did mean that I had a year when I had no idea what was going on in their lives and the like. Eventually one of them got married and M and the third girl were her bridesmaids. I didn't know anyone at that wedding except them, and so I was very reluctant to go, which is when I was told to stop being difficult.
Saturday, October 06, 2007
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Under the Greenwood Tree
Who loves to lie with me?
That said. How time flies and all that jazz. Here's a few requests for all y'all my faithful readers.
1. Has anyone noticed the new background? That's the bit behind the white bit. Like two strips on the sides.
2. Stealing idea from Veo I'm going to try set meself goals and all by taking requests. Anyone got a song title they'd like me to turn into a post?
2a. In the same vein, anyone got anything they'd like a special MinCat rant about?
3. Please notice the books I'm reading and loving in the sidebar.
That said. How time flies and all that jazz. Here's a few requests for all y'all my faithful readers.
1. Has anyone noticed the new background? That's the bit behind the white bit. Like two strips on the sides.
2. Stealing idea from Veo I'm going to try set meself goals and all by taking requests. Anyone got a song title they'd like me to turn into a post?
2a. In the same vein, anyone got anything they'd like a special MinCat rant about?
3. Please notice the books I'm reading and loving in the sidebar.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Fear Factor
I was watching that Zach Braff movie this morning, you know the one with the pregnant girlfriend and the college girl he sleeps with...um....Last Kiss or something. It's not a shining example of cinematic excellence, but it really pushed my buttons.
What IS it with the world today that people* are so terrified of adulthood? I wonder what it is about seeing people in older generations that makes us fear growing up. Because I can't really think of a better explanation. But, before I set off on my rant, allow me to set the scene.
The movie is about a 29-year old man, who is a fairly successful architect, very much in love with his girlfriend, who suddenly discovers she's pregnant. Of course they won't get married because "Show me 3 couples you personally know who have lasted and I'll marry you", which is FINE, because inscribing oneself in some particular institutionalised form of heterosexual monogamy isn't necessary to survival**, but they are a committed couple, except he must run off and have an affair with a 20-yr old, because he's so scared that there are no surprises left and he's getting old and it's too much to handle. Of course she takes him back and whatnot, but what had me going WTF was the no more surprises oh I'm old my life is over bit.
Leave aside the fact that a child is in itself an infinite source of endless surprise, be it the I want to be a pilot mommy or the cocaine in his crucifix, how can giving oneself into commitment mean the end of all things new? Does this mean that all the single people are running around having wild sex and cuddles with random people and every morning they wake up and go surprise! Look whose bed I'm in! Heck where are those singles, I want in!
Seriously though, even if it did, is that what we really want? I don't deny that there are people, many even, who probably are very happy with alternatives to the find a partner and share your life option, but this wild lemming-like panic is beyond me. Admit to a fellow 25-year old that the reason I'm having trouble picking a career is that I don't WANT one beyond a house full of cats, dogs and babies, and they will faint or stab themselves in the eye before taking me seriously. Of course I'm not denying that when the kids are teenagers and don't need me I'll probably want to do something more, but I fail to understand why it is inadmissible to acknowledge that yes one is seeking a partner. Why is it a betrayal of your education, your goals, yourself to want to share whatever it is you want with someone else?
*takes deep breath*
To return to my point though.
What is it about the world today that makes people so terrified of dependence. Dependence has come to mean some sort of semi-parasitical existence, and you spend your twenties so scared of it that you shove everyone away and then when you turn thirty you wonder why you don't know anyone and where have all the good men/women gone. But dependence doesn't have to mean obligation, it doesn't have to mean codependence! I can depend on my parents, I can depend on my sister, and each day I'm thankful for it. I can depend on my friends, well some of them at any rate, but that doesn't mean I cannot function without them.
But again, I digress.
So the thing is, the movie made me wonder, if *hiss* settling down is such a bad thing, what DO these people want from life? Do they want to be forty-five, torturing themselves to look good and be out there, always ready to get hammered, always ready to get stoned, always ready to stay up all night watching porn? Seriously, the very thought of partying three nights in a row has me curling up into a foetal ball and whimpering. And I'm only twenty-five. Isn't there a point when you're tired? Aren't there days when you DON'T want to wax your bikini line and suck in your stomach and head out to the bar in stilettos? Don't you want to curl up on the couch in pyjamas and read a book while someone else is puttering about doing their own thing too? You want the Z4, but not the responsibility of paying the insurance?
Sometimes I wonder if the problem is that people are scared to be the odd one out. I find more and more blogs are either witty twenty-something singles who don't want anything approaching commitment oh puhleeeese what are you from the middle ages??? and thirty or forty somethings who are desperately lonely and angry that they can't find the perfect person and must now settle. What changes these people? Is it suddenly ok to want companionship when you turn thirty, but not before?
To me life has it's telos, you age/mature/whatever, and appreciate some things, like Abbey Road, which I only liked after I hit puberty, and you don't appreciate others, like being hungover with 3 hours sleep every night. Or maybe you do, I wouldn't know. But isn't it important to be able to say to yourself, hey I LIKE being 10 years older than everyone I hang out with, or I LIKE knowing I'll wake up next to the same person every day. Whichever it is. Shouldn't you be able to just say it?
*I'm very tempted here to say "Western" people, people from my generation, men, USAmericans, people who live in the US and Western Europe, but I shall refrain
**Another post. I promise. As if anyone's reading!
What IS it with the world today that people* are so terrified of adulthood? I wonder what it is about seeing people in older generations that makes us fear growing up. Because I can't really think of a better explanation. But, before I set off on my rant, allow me to set the scene.
The movie is about a 29-year old man, who is a fairly successful architect, very much in love with his girlfriend, who suddenly discovers she's pregnant. Of course they won't get married because "Show me 3 couples you personally know who have lasted and I'll marry you", which is FINE, because inscribing oneself in some particular institutionalised form of heterosexual monogamy isn't necessary to survival**, but they are a committed couple, except he must run off and have an affair with a 20-yr old, because he's so scared that there are no surprises left and he's getting old and it's too much to handle. Of course she takes him back and whatnot, but what had me going WTF was the no more surprises oh I'm old my life is over bit.
Leave aside the fact that a child is in itself an infinite source of endless surprise, be it the I want to be a pilot mommy or the cocaine in his crucifix, how can giving oneself into commitment mean the end of all things new? Does this mean that all the single people are running around having wild sex and cuddles with random people and every morning they wake up and go surprise! Look whose bed I'm in! Heck where are those singles, I want in!
Seriously though, even if it did, is that what we really want? I don't deny that there are people, many even, who probably are very happy with alternatives to the find a partner and share your life option, but this wild lemming-like panic is beyond me. Admit to a fellow 25-year old that the reason I'm having trouble picking a career is that I don't WANT one beyond a house full of cats, dogs and babies, and they will faint or stab themselves in the eye before taking me seriously. Of course I'm not denying that when the kids are teenagers and don't need me I'll probably want to do something more, but I fail to understand why it is inadmissible to acknowledge that yes one is seeking a partner. Why is it a betrayal of your education, your goals, yourself to want to share whatever it is you want with someone else?
*takes deep breath*
To return to my point though.
What is it about the world today that makes people so terrified of dependence. Dependence has come to mean some sort of semi-parasitical existence, and you spend your twenties so scared of it that you shove everyone away and then when you turn thirty you wonder why you don't know anyone and where have all the good men/women gone. But dependence doesn't have to mean obligation, it doesn't have to mean codependence! I can depend on my parents, I can depend on my sister, and each day I'm thankful for it. I can depend on my friends, well some of them at any rate, but that doesn't mean I cannot function without them.
But again, I digress.
So the thing is, the movie made me wonder, if *hiss* settling down is such a bad thing, what DO these people want from life? Do they want to be forty-five, torturing themselves to look good and be out there, always ready to get hammered, always ready to get stoned, always ready to stay up all night watching porn? Seriously, the very thought of partying three nights in a row has me curling up into a foetal ball and whimpering. And I'm only twenty-five. Isn't there a point when you're tired? Aren't there days when you DON'T want to wax your bikini line and suck in your stomach and head out to the bar in stilettos? Don't you want to curl up on the couch in pyjamas and read a book while someone else is puttering about doing their own thing too? You want the Z4, but not the responsibility of paying the insurance?
Sometimes I wonder if the problem is that people are scared to be the odd one out. I find more and more blogs are either witty twenty-something singles who don't want anything approaching commitment oh puhleeeese what are you from the middle ages??? and thirty or forty somethings who are desperately lonely and angry that they can't find the perfect person and must now settle. What changes these people? Is it suddenly ok to want companionship when you turn thirty, but not before?
To me life has it's telos, you age/mature/whatever, and appreciate some things, like Abbey Road, which I only liked after I hit puberty, and you don't appreciate others, like being hungover with 3 hours sleep every night. Or maybe you do, I wouldn't know. But isn't it important to be able to say to yourself, hey I LIKE being 10 years older than everyone I hang out with, or I LIKE knowing I'll wake up next to the same person every day. Whichever it is. Shouldn't you be able to just say it?
*I'm very tempted here to say "Western" people, people from my generation, men, USAmericans, people who live in the US and Western Europe, but I shall refrain
**Another post. I promise. As if anyone's reading!
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Lurkers!
hello
I just discovered all the cool things I can do with my sitemeter. and I found people visit me from Washington D.C., Los Angeles, Ohio, somewhere in the south central united states [Texas maybe?], Wrentham Massachusetts, Pittsburgh [wait I know this one, right?], Stoke-on-Trent, Rottingdean Birmingham, Frence, Sint-Martens-Latem BELGIUM, Stuttgart Germany, people all over India, while I can't figure out which one is who specifically I can believe the places except the one in the middle that makes me think it's Bhopal???, Brisbane and somewhere jus south of the middle of Australia.
Who ARE you?????
Suddenly I feel way cooler than I ever have in all my years [3? 4?] of blogging.
If you don't mind very much wldja pleeeeease say hi and where you're from in the comments box? Or send me an email. I am a cat after all and we all know what curiosity does to my species!
I just discovered all the cool things I can do with my sitemeter. and I found people visit me from Washington D.C., Los Angeles, Ohio, somewhere in the south central united states [Texas maybe?], Wrentham Massachusetts, Pittsburgh [wait I know this one, right?], Stoke-on-Trent, Rottingdean Birmingham, Frence, Sint-Martens-Latem BELGIUM, Stuttgart Germany, people all over India, while I can't figure out which one is who specifically I can believe the places except the one in the middle that makes me think it's Bhopal???, Brisbane and somewhere jus south of the middle of Australia.
Who ARE you?????
Suddenly I feel way cooler than I ever have in all my years [3? 4?] of blogging.
If you don't mind very much wldja pleeeeease say hi and where you're from in the comments box? Or send me an email. I am a cat after all and we all know what curiosity does to my species!
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Come September
When I was Very Young my godly mother used to play a song, by The Shadows or The Ventures or something, called Come September. The point being that, in September, when the new school year starts, people who have flunked have a shot at passing again. Of course, since school started in June and if one flunked one stayed flunked and usually moved school if one's parents loved one enough*, it made no sense at all. One also didn't know that school could mean many things, like what a twenty-five year old does in the West Village, and happened in many places.
Well September has come around and I spent the day doing probably what I did last year, only this time it was with the slightly supercilious air of a person who knows where to get free print-outs, and what time to go to the bank to avoid the line, a person who knows the Washington Square campus by heart and isn't shy about sharing her knowledge. It felt very strange.
When I remember myself going about bizniz last year I'm convinced it was in another place, a place that is hazy and tinged with a cold grey light, where there are a few buildings with NYU banners and a few vaguely familiar faces from the Graduate Welcome Week events. It was a New York that was very empty and quiet and very full and noisy, by turns; a New York where I could never run into anyone I knew on the street, and even if I did, odds were I wouldn't know their name.
Yesterday I planned to meet two people, and I ran into four more. The park was full of bright sunshine and the sky was ridiculously blue.
*of COURSE I have never flunked!!!!! ;)
Well September has come around and I spent the day doing probably what I did last year, only this time it was with the slightly supercilious air of a person who knows where to get free print-outs, and what time to go to the bank to avoid the line, a person who knows the Washington Square campus by heart and isn't shy about sharing her knowledge. It felt very strange.
When I remember myself going about bizniz last year I'm convinced it was in another place, a place that is hazy and tinged with a cold grey light, where there are a few buildings with NYU banners and a few vaguely familiar faces from the Graduate Welcome Week events. It was a New York that was very empty and quiet and very full and noisy, by turns; a New York where I could never run into anyone I knew on the street, and even if I did, odds were I wouldn't know their name.
Yesterday I planned to meet two people, and I ran into four more. The park was full of bright sunshine and the sky was ridiculously blue.
*of COURSE I have never flunked!!!!! ;)
Friday, August 31, 2007
1 am Faff
By the time the entering the house ritual is done most of the faff has gone. Ask me about it some other time. I do love driving at night in this city, its beautiful and I rarely ever have to get out of fifth.
The problem with signs is, how do you know it IS a sign and isn't wishful thinking? What if fairytales ARE true, what if you DO just know, and what if you are never sure of the what ifs?
All I can do is gather every scrap of zen I can lay my hands on, rummage though the pockets of the thrice-washed pants, in the hope that there's something extra there - every penny helps, right? Then mix it up in a mojito, knock it down and pray it conjures up every last atom of faith left in my body and my life, every story of fate and destiny, good and bad, every iota of hope and positive thinking, close my eyes and just hold on. After all, the thing with destiny is that it always works out happy and fulfilling in the end, right?
And you know, this time it might just work. At least in terms of trauma and drama free life.
The problem with signs is, how do you know it IS a sign and isn't wishful thinking? What if fairytales ARE true, what if you DO just know, and what if you are never sure of the what ifs?
All I can do is gather every scrap of zen I can lay my hands on, rummage though the pockets of the thrice-washed pants, in the hope that there's something extra there - every penny helps, right? Then mix it up in a mojito, knock it down and pray it conjures up every last atom of faith left in my body and my life, every story of fate and destiny, good and bad, every iota of hope and positive thinking, close my eyes and just hold on. After all, the thing with destiny is that it always works out happy and fulfilling in the end, right?
And you know, this time it might just work. At least in terms of trauma and drama free life.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Testing
Am trying to overcome vagaries of internet, so this is test post to see if I can do this whole email your post in thing. Of course this means I have a good excuse for fluff. [Like I need one. :D]
Yesterday was truly a signal day in the life of MinCat.
First, she had dinner with her paediatrician. This is not in itself too strange, only there was a moment when she was sitting on the couch and said paediatrician said what would you like to drink, I have some nice single malts, that the surreality of it all struck her.
Second, on this trip MinCat knows NO women. It was strange indeed to be in Wannabe-English-Pub, surrounded by boys instead of girls. Most bizarre. [Those of ye who have seen MinCat through all her previous avatars will know why. Those of you who haven't don't bother, it's not that interesting.]
Third, in the auto on the way to Karaoke night, the phone rings, and it is Old Friend [gah, i should make a list of all the pseudonyms] who was supposed to give her a ride home but had to cancel, calling to say that he would make time and swing by WEP, so that she would be assured of a ride. When she told him she did have a backup and would be fine, he said to her, well if you need a ride, call me, I'll come and get you, leaving MinCat both gasping in shock and melting in awww-ness.
And fourth, on arriving at mall that houses WEP, to meet BikerBoy and some of his friends, MinCat was overwhelmed by the greeting she received. You see, she was on the phone with BikerBoy, informing him of her arrival, as she climbed the steps to the atrium, and he broke off midsentence, not even waiting to hang up, and came bounding across the atrium, and leapt over a parapet to give her a giant hug. She was left speechless and sniffly with sentiment.
Three and four are events of note because it has never happened that boys have made such gestures to MinCat in all the twenty-five long years of her life. They might possibly be the sweetest spontaneous gestures any boy has EVER made to her. After all this she sang Alanis Morissette at the Karaoke and went to sleep with the biggest fuzzy grin on her face.
Yesterday was truly a signal day in the life of MinCat.
First, she had dinner with her paediatrician. This is not in itself too strange, only there was a moment when she was sitting on the couch and said paediatrician said what would you like to drink, I have some nice single malts, that the surreality of it all struck her.
Second, on this trip MinCat knows NO women. It was strange indeed to be in Wannabe-English-Pub, surrounded by boys instead of girls. Most bizarre. [Those of ye who have seen MinCat through all her previous avatars will know why. Those of you who haven't don't bother, it's not that interesting.]
Third, in the auto on the way to Karaoke night, the phone rings, and it is Old Friend [gah, i should make a list of all the pseudonyms] who was supposed to give her a ride home but had to cancel, calling to say that he would make time and swing by WEP, so that she would be assured of a ride. When she told him she did have a backup and would be fine, he said to her, well if you need a ride, call me, I'll come and get you, leaving MinCat both gasping in shock and melting in awww-ness.
And fourth, on arriving at mall that houses WEP, to meet BikerBoy and some of his friends, MinCat was overwhelmed by the greeting she received. You see, she was on the phone with BikerBoy, informing him of her arrival, as she climbed the steps to the atrium, and he broke off midsentence, not even waiting to hang up, and came bounding across the atrium, and leapt over a parapet to give her a giant hug. She was left speechless and sniffly with sentiment.
Three and four are events of note because it has never happened that boys have made such gestures to MinCat in all the twenty-five long years of her life. They might possibly be the sweetest spontaneous gestures any boy has EVER made to her. After all this she sang Alanis Morissette at the Karaoke and went to sleep with the biggest fuzzy grin on her face.
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