Nothing but Flowers

Tuna and I were chatting today, and he told me that the 10-year-old neighbor boy has his ears pierced.  My reaction was surprise, a little shock, and sadly judgmental.  He said, “well, so-and-so has her ears pierced and she’s way younger”.  I said, “yeah but she’s a girl.  Well, I guess I was eight when I had my ears pierced, but I’m a girl.”

And I stopped myself.  I realized what I was saying, and how I had reacted with sexism at the forefront of my mind.  Tuna just looked at me and watched me analyze myself, all the while grinning because he knew this all along.

Such humility, and how far I still have to go.  I wonder what other prejudiced, sexist, racist, classist, _______-ist behaviors and thoughts have cemented themselves in my subconscious… Those isms are sneaky, sliding into our inauthentic selves, stifling and hardening over the truths of what really IS.

Rather than holding onto the shame I feel from this, I am choosing to realize that It’s gonna take some more jack-hammering lessons from the kiddos in my life to clear out those isms, and the simple truths underneath these isms may have room to grow and flourish again.  The Talking Heads song “Nothing But Flowers” sums it up:  “This was a shopping mall, now it’s all covered with flowers.”

We don’t need to believe that only girls can pierce their ears any more than we need that shopping mall.  Once we keep only what matters, and allow those isms to fall away, nature will prevail and we’ll all be covered with flowers, boys and girls alike.

Oldness and Irony and Fiber

I just stayed up til midnight on a weeknight watching “Reality Bites”.  Let’s just call that my midlife crisis and move on.  Okey dokey.  Glad I got that over with.

So tonight I really just wanted to watch HGTV for a while and go to bed, but the kids had freaking Nick Jr. on and that turns into Nick mom at night and those tv people know the channel will still be on when the actual owner of the remote has control again and all the moms who watch it are 30 something and finally sitting down after schlepping kids and/or working all day and a throwback movie like “Reality Bites” is just beginning and they know they’ve GOT you because OMG I remember this movie and it’s been 20 years or some shit and there is some evil hunched millionaire rubbing his hands together saying “it’s genius, just look at all of those 30 somethings not even realizing that they’re having a midlife crisis” and wondering what ever happened to Ethan Hawke and he really is still awkwardly hot in this movie and why the hell doesn’t Winona Ryder EAT and look at little Ben Stiller and I LOVE JANEANE GAROFALO (yes, I had to look up how to spell Janeane Garofalo).

One of the lines in the movie is a woman asking Winona the definition of Irony.  Well, it’s getting pissed off that I stayed up so late for a stupid movie and then writing a blegh entry about it which keeps me up way later.

I have been feeling old lately.  I have new lines in my face that the spring sun is revealing, the girls in my class (I go to school, for those of you who don’t know) are celebrating their friends’ 21st birthdays, and I just watched a movie on Nickmom.  Also, I just watched more commercials in the last two hours than I have in the last 15 years.  I watched commercials for Sketchers, Hair shit, weight loss shit, ABC mouse, Clorox bleach, pee pads, and fucking fiber bars.  Dude, OLD. (And I know a lot of you reading are older than I am, so just humor me on this.  I’m just bleghing…and 30 something crisising…it will pass in a minute and I’ll be all bouncy again.)  

I never watch commercials!  I have received clear confirmation tonight that I have been correct in avoiding them all these years.  Am I supposed to need more fiber??  And what’s wrong with my hair?  And I suddenly feel so fat!  Total inadequacy.  All I need now is a Cosmo magazine and my soul will be sufficiently squashed.  It’s interesting that the movie was about finding yourself and being true to yourself and your intelligence and knowing who matters in life, and then you have to watch commercials about becoming skinnier and prettier and your four-year-old needs ABC mouse because he’s not smart enough and now you and your kid suck.  Irony.

So, now that I have that crisis out of my system, I solemnly swear that I will be up late reading a book tomorrow night instead of letting mainstream media control my soul.  And it’s not just because I have to read it for school, really.  (It’s because Ethan Hawke had a book in his hand in almost every scene and OMG reading is hot.)  And now I will return to my usual happy intelligent good enough 30 something programming.