Friday, May 30th, 2003 10:03 pm
child graduates in purple; also, bad hair day
Long day. Long, long, endless, long, and did I mention LONG day?
See, took off work for Child's Kindergarten graduation. Got jeans on (this is officially a Big Deal for me. Work is dress, and God, do I miss my jeans and t-shirts), brushed hair with fingers, water, and comb, went, extended family went as well (nothing quite like sharing a Special Moment with your son and five of your closest relatives when you want a. breakfast b. to have found your hairbrush this morning and c. that you could stop yawning. But I digress.)
For those who have been to these? Would have liked some warning. I was thinking, oh, cute little kids, everyone casual, but no. Everyone was dressed to the nines. Me, my t-shirt, my comfy flannel, and let's not discuss my shoes, stood out quite well among business and dress attire. Go me. Hair in pony tail (did I mention the brush issue?). Child and class were in LITTLE PURPLE GRADUATION ROBES. And these pictures will be posted, as soon as I get them uploaded. Adorable, yes. But surreal.
Awards presented, which kind of irked me--I was a desperately intellectually competitive child from, oh, the first time I realized being smart got you neat certificates, attention, pizza parties, and awards, not to mention going to competitions, but that wasn't until second-third grade. I'm uncomfortable with kindergarten being a competitive sport now. I had issues enough when Child was graded on coloring--on COLORING, for Pete's sake. *sighs* But I chalked that up to weirdness and enjoyed child's impressionistic art without worrying about the entire lines issue.
Stil, though. Do five year olds really need to be competitive in reading, conduct, computer literacy, and COLORING?
Anyway, despite that, Child was adorable and also very self-possessed for someone wearing a purple satin robe. He'd asked me very seriously not to yell, whistle, or make loud noises when he was up there--methinks he remembers his mommy's reaction to him being a train bearer in the Harvest Festival in October.
(For those interested in child's antics at this very proper production, the memories of which continue to entertain me whenever I think about it, go here. Child believed, apparently, that train bearing is also a contact sport. Somewhere, we have bits of this on tape. It makes me happy.)
Right.
Anyway, afterward, the day got suddenly--long. Errands. Everywhere. And really dumb ones, but ones that have to be done when I don't have work, which gah. Blah. Sleep, dammit. One hour ago I got to sit down for the first time today without having to actually THINK, and dear God, does this make me happy.
What makes me less happy is mandatory work day tomorrow. Oh shoot me now. No, really.
More Surreal Moments, taking off from T-Ball shockiness: Boy who made fun of me enough to make me quit band in sixth grade now father of a child in my son's class. Had no idea. It's got to say something unhealthy that seeing people from high school freaks me out more than the concept of dental surgery that's coming up Real Soon Now. Oddly, not only have I not gotten over my issues with my high school classmates, I actually seem to be dragging them along like a weird, weird, weird antisecurity blanket.
*sighs* And it had to be a bad hair day, didn't it? Couldn't, just once, I be in heels, dressed spectacularly, hair like something out of Cosmo, and making all men fall drooling at my feet begging for forgiveness?
*waits*
*grins* Didn't think so. I really have to stop taking myself so seriously.
Though I am comforted by the fact that I still fit into my junior high cheerleading uniform. No, I didn't check when I got home, silly people. Of course not. Not THAT insecure. Not at all.
See, took off work for Child's Kindergarten graduation. Got jeans on (this is officially a Big Deal for me. Work is dress, and God, do I miss my jeans and t-shirts), brushed hair with fingers, water, and comb, went, extended family went as well (nothing quite like sharing a Special Moment with your son and five of your closest relatives when you want a. breakfast b. to have found your hairbrush this morning and c. that you could stop yawning. But I digress.)
For those who have been to these? Would have liked some warning. I was thinking, oh, cute little kids, everyone casual, but no. Everyone was dressed to the nines. Me, my t-shirt, my comfy flannel, and let's not discuss my shoes, stood out quite well among business and dress attire. Go me. Hair in pony tail (did I mention the brush issue?). Child and class were in LITTLE PURPLE GRADUATION ROBES. And these pictures will be posted, as soon as I get them uploaded. Adorable, yes. But surreal.
Awards presented, which kind of irked me--I was a desperately intellectually competitive child from, oh, the first time I realized being smart got you neat certificates, attention, pizza parties, and awards, not to mention going to competitions, but that wasn't until second-third grade. I'm uncomfortable with kindergarten being a competitive sport now. I had issues enough when Child was graded on coloring--on COLORING, for Pete's sake. *sighs* But I chalked that up to weirdness and enjoyed child's impressionistic art without worrying about the entire lines issue.
Stil, though. Do five year olds really need to be competitive in reading, conduct, computer literacy, and COLORING?
Anyway, despite that, Child was adorable and also very self-possessed for someone wearing a purple satin robe. He'd asked me very seriously not to yell, whistle, or make loud noises when he was up there--methinks he remembers his mommy's reaction to him being a train bearer in the Harvest Festival in October.
(For those interested in child's antics at this very proper production, the memories of which continue to entertain me whenever I think about it, go here. Child believed, apparently, that train bearing is also a contact sport. Somewhere, we have bits of this on tape. It makes me happy.)
Right.
Anyway, afterward, the day got suddenly--long. Errands. Everywhere. And really dumb ones, but ones that have to be done when I don't have work, which gah. Blah. Sleep, dammit. One hour ago I got to sit down for the first time today without having to actually THINK, and dear God, does this make me happy.
What makes me less happy is mandatory work day tomorrow. Oh shoot me now. No, really.
More Surreal Moments, taking off from T-Ball shockiness: Boy who made fun of me enough to make me quit band in sixth grade now father of a child in my son's class. Had no idea. It's got to say something unhealthy that seeing people from high school freaks me out more than the concept of dental surgery that's coming up Real Soon Now. Oddly, not only have I not gotten over my issues with my high school classmates, I actually seem to be dragging them along like a weird, weird, weird antisecurity blanket.
*sighs* And it had to be a bad hair day, didn't it? Couldn't, just once, I be in heels, dressed spectacularly, hair like something out of Cosmo, and making all men fall drooling at my feet begging for forgiveness?
*waits*
*grins* Didn't think so. I really have to stop taking myself so seriously.
Though I am comforted by the fact that I still fit into my junior high cheerleading uniform. No, I didn't check when I got home, silly people. Of course not. Not THAT insecure. Not at all.
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From:I have to quote this, as I consider it a shout out to Sleep While I Drive, whether it actually is, or not. According to MR, in a recent interview:
"Lex would take some of those hundreds of thousands of dollars he's spent on exotic cars and choose maybe a convertible Ferrari and, if there was a full moon, would go at 140 miles per hour down the autobahn. You know what I mean? He would just relax back, listen to some really great music and fly down the road with nobody else in sight. You know? Just the two of them and the car and the road that doesn't end. That would be Lex's idea of a great night."
Total shout out. This I believe.
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From:Heh. Until you mentioned it, I completely forgot. But yes! Must remember to tell Child, as Child likes Lex muchly. *g* Mommy's taught him well.
Now if I can only get him off this 'jenn' kick and have him start calling me 'mom' or some variation thereof more often. *sighs*
*giggles at quote* My God. That's--hee! That's just--surreal. I would almost swear you've tapped into his thinking or something from afar, considering, let me remember--ah, yes, it was TOTALLY YOUR IDEA. *grins*
Would explain so much....
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From:I do this a little too. *Selective* lingering insecurity gives me motivation sometimes. It'll make me go out and buy new clothes instead of wearing old ones that have fifty holes, or make sure I do well in my college classes, or that I go out and look for good jobs and don't settle for cruddy ones.
So, some insecurity is good. My sense of identity is not the same as it was four years ago when I graduated from high school, but it is affected by it. Thesis, Antithesis, Synthesis, as Hegel would say. My inner psychologist (located near my inner bullshitter, so beware) would say that it's okay to be conscious of your high school self, so long as you're still getting out there and building your adult self.
It makes perfect sense that you can't give people a completely clean slate even after years away from them. My rule about people who done wronged me millenia ago? Be nice to them until they give me a reason not to be. Unless they had seriously incurable personality problems, and weren't just being bratty kids. I really wonder about my classmates sometimes, because by now they've aged, but I don't really see them around much.
-Silverkyst
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From:It's just--there are maybe three people I actively keep up with since I graduated from high school, and all three are my cousins, believe it or not. I really, really hated high school, and the associations are still just too close, even after all this time. Every time, I'm still sixteen and miserable and ick. I don't even like remembering, and I don't try very hard to.
Even intellectually, knowing how much has changed, it's still--very, very disconcerting. Probably says a lot more about my neuroses than I like to think about.
Eh. I need to stop with the melancholia going on. Porn. Cookies. Or maybe ice cream. Must search. *g*
*hugs*
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From:*hugs*
Mmm yes. The things that make life worth living sometimes, cookies, ice cream, and porn. Not necessarily seperately. *g*
*hugs*
-Silverkyst
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From:Sorry to spam you, but I just can't believe it. It seems there really are a lot of differences between the US and Germany. :) I tend to forget because so many things are pretty much the same.
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From:Anyways, congratulations to him and good luck to you on the dental surgery thing. Just the thought of those sadomasochists makes me want to run and hide. *shivers*
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From:And don't, God, don't ask how *that* happened. I'm trying really, really hard not to think about it at all. There's just something--creepy--about teeth things. I have no idea why. Maybe too many readings of The Tommyknockers or something....
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From:I like the sound of the graduation gowns (good colour choice - since become a Smallville-lover my attitude to purple has changed entirely), but my mind boggles at the idea of kindergarten and gratuation fitting together. Including the awards. Coloring - amazing.
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From:*crosses fingers* Will make it work, dammit. MAKE it.
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From:Good luck! We can win!
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Aww, SK graduation!
From:Also, I'd say that competition over reading is better than the out and out aversion to it most kids in my kindergarten class had. "Bookworm" was one of the worst insults you could have thrown at you!
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Re: Aww, SK graduation!
From:Also, I'd say that competition over reading is better than the out and out aversion to it most kids in my kindergarten class had. "Bookworm" was one of the worst insults you could have thrown at you!
Okay, I'll give you that. *nod*
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