Is cyberspace really taking me into the future?

I've just been friended (there's a new fangled word) on Facebook by people I was a mad 20 something year old with. I feel as though they're from a whole other life. Certainly it was a whole other phase in my life.

Of course I accepted them as friends, and I look forward to finding out about their lives.

Yet there's part of me that wonders if I want to. It feels a little like a backward step. It's a part of my life that I left behind.

Maybe I'm afraid they'll reject me. They're pretty cool characters and ah, my life choices are different to theirs, and I'm a loooooong way from cool. I'm very comfortable with my uncoolness, yet it's funny that I'm suddenly conscious of it with these blasts from my past.

I don't really know why this worries my at all, in all likelihood we'll do our polite catching up then ignore each, so nothing will have changed.

I'm being unfair, but...

Our church had a music night tonight. I worked behind the scenes, as did my Davey who manned the data projector and lights. Zinni sang her heart out in an accapella choir which sounded magnificent as the beauty of 40 combined voices lifted the audience to a place of sheer delight.

Later in the night a man who I find to be quite superficial (this judgement has a bearing on my story) sang a song about relying on Jesus in all things. The only words I can remember of the song are "The widow who sits and cries tears for her loneliness".

I didn't feel gratitude that the song captured my situation. I felt anger. Anger because the man singing has no frigging idea.

Anger because that's not how it is. I don't sit and cry. I DO. My life is about doing, not sitting and moping!

Anger because I know in his mind he's singing about a woman dressed in black, helpless and pathetic. Anger because he doesn't connect me with the term widow. I doubt that many people at church do attach the term widow to me. The stereotype doesn't match my red hair, my humour, my lack of patheticness.

Yet a widow I am. And it makes me angry that this man will use the term that descibes my situation in a song to arouse emotion, yet never once offer an actual widow in his sphere any form of spoken or practical support. I feel anger that he's used a description that applies to me in a way that buys into an incorrect stereotype with no connection to the actual experience.

Did this man do anything wrong? No. He's just an innocent man who is blessed to know not of what he sings.

Me? I guess I'm buying into the stereotype by being a bitter widow!

Proof

My girl is definitely growing up.

I have proof.

She tied the garbage bag in our bin and took it out to the wheely bin. Without being asked.

Woo hoo.

Castellano III

I have just written a short (very short) biography on Rodolfo Enrique Fogwill, an Argentinian author. This was homework for my Spanish III class which I've just started. As this homework was written in Spanish, I'm feeling just a little pleased with myself. It may be midnight, but I have completed my homework!

Ahora sueno. (I'd place the tilda above the n to correctly spell sueno, but I'm not able to make it happen and too tired to care.)

Couch potato communication

It's sunday night. We've had a normal hectic Sunday and Davey and I have both finally collapsed in front of the TV with our laptops. (Zinni hasn't returned from night church yet.) Davey's finishing an assignment that he was meant to finish yesterday, but the lure of friends inviting him to the beach and then a sleepover proved irresistable, while I'm supposedly writing a short biography in Spanish of a South American author. The volume of the TV increased as a segment of ads burst onto the screen. Davey had the remote control and didn't move to hit the mute button. I stretched out my arm with my palm flat so he could hand it to me. Without looking up from his screen Davey picked up the remote and put it into my hand. I pressed the mute button and we both continued doing our respective thing in silence. I love our unspoken synchronicity.

Maisy

Straightening the factual lines.

It's not a new thing this gig at Mid Century Modern Moms. I've been there since January, I just didn't tell you guys about it, because I wasn't sure I'd be able to keep up the pace, and I'm not good at self-promotion - I've never been able to ask a boss for a raise, ever!

Just thought I'd post that here rather in the comments of my last post, 'cause you might not go back and read them to get my response.

I have to confess that the other thing that's kept me from this blog is Facebook. I sort of feel as though my occasional one line status updates almost feeds my need to share my life with the world. It's a little unsatisfactory though 'cause I have friends on there who are not really friends but who it would be awkward in real life if I didn't accept their Facebook friend request. The etiquette of the cyberage is no less tricky than the etiquette required in the 1800's! (And less clear, to boot!)

I think I'm going to be doing a bit more thinking here on my blog again to try and regain some of that elusive satisfaction. Heck, that's why I went to all the trouble of starting a new blog with new names 'n all. Let's see how I go.

Maisy - who loves her cyber friends.

For the Fans

(That would be you Alicia!)


Let it be known that I blog every Wednesday over at Mid Century Modern Moms about the fun of parenting teenagers!

http://mid-centurymodernmoms.typepad.com/midcenturymodernmoms/2009/10/what-to-say.html

That's the latest offering.