Tears of fear and laughter

I was all set to write something good, using my computer…, but the internet is, yet again, not working properly, so I got pushed back to my phone for a short bit of thumb tapping instead (because I like two spaces after my periods in writing, and the phone application doesn’t allow such a thing).

Life can be tough and miserable, or it can be tough and comical… I think I’ll aim for the latter this week, since this small incident is one tiny straw on this bundle that feels like it’s breaking my camel’s back…

Post-a-day 2018

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Old men and fashion

It isn’t often that I hear an old man comment on clothing, – other than it being related to how impractical this or that might be – but the old men usually make it count whenever they do comment on an outfit.

Tonight, leaving the classroom, the professor asks me if my skirt is made out of coat-ties.

I tell him that it is and that my mom and I made it.

With big nods and a big grin, he tells me how he thought so, because, well, it’s one of the ones in the back part, yes that one there – he owns that tie… he has that same one!

I was totally tickled by it, and he was delighted at having recognized them as ties (because we removed the back seams and opened each of them up, making them double the width), and so we both just chuckled along the hallway on our ways out, delighting in the small world that involved my skirt. 😛

Post-a-day 2018

Take care, friends

I am strong as a person, and I know it – I can take care of somebody else, easily.

That’s why one of the most appealing things to me in a partner is someone who will take care of me…, because I sometimes just want to take a break from taking care of everyone else – of anyone, actually – and have someone do it for me, instead of the other way around.

But I feel as though I am failing as a friend, if I ask that of a friend… it’s only acceptable, it seems, with a partner in life…, but maybe that’s just because the best kind of friends aren’t really in my everyday life right now, and so I can’t even imagine it being acceptable behavior, their taking care of me for once.

And then this reminds me of something from today.

I stopped in on an old co-worker’s class today while I was subbing, and the prayer she read to begin class was about reaching out to those who seem upset or alone, because, how does one know that that person has friends to cheer him up?… I might be the only one who’s even considered cheering the person up, it said… perhaps the person feels just as lonely as I do, and just no one has ever taken the time to see, it read…

And I cried during the prayer, because I felt like that person who feels so alone, but who no one would consider might ever feel like she’s all on her own and alone, with no one even to check on how she’s really doing, and not just how she might look from the outside…

Post-a-day 2018

Think before you speak

Today, I was the forced object and false source of a race-related disturbance.

And I don’t want to talk about it.

But I do want to share that it happened.

The woman did not hear my giddy excitement as I told my mom what I had just seen while returning from the bathroom, nor that my mom asked me where I had seen them.

The woman did not hear my genuine words of excuse (or my mother’s), immediately following the moment where my pointed arm passed between her eyes and her far-outstretched camera.

The woman did not see that she was almost standing on top of my bag (to which I had just returned after using the bathroom).

The woman did not hear or see any of this – she only saw a pale, blue-eyed, blonde girl ‘get rudely in her way’.

Based on all of the angrily expelled words that were slung like swings of a bat from her mouth, she made some serious assumptions about who and how the ‘never taught any manners’ white girl was.

At first, I made an effort to calm her and to show her how unintentional the act of pointing in front of her was, and that I’d never meant to do any harm or rudeness…, but her irrational declarations and chastisements suddenly became rational, when I discovered that, for her, it was about race, and had nothing to do with what actually had happened.

At that point, I made it clear to my mom, too, that there was no use in discussing anything with the woman – she couldn’t hear us or our words… only our skin.

It saddened me that someone would believe such intense beliefs about me, and especially where we were (a multicultural event), when I am the person I am.

I have more than just friendships to show that I am not what the woman assumed of me, but it seems absurd that I even would have to defend myself on the matter… I just don’t understand why people continue to insist that things like this must be “fought”.

What good was accomplished by this woman’s verbal attack today?

I don’t believe that fighting has ever truly been the answer in history.

It was just a way to get rid of those who saw things differently, but permanently so – it didn’t actually solve problems.

… Anyway… just some thoughts of mine tonight…

Post-a-day 2018