Yesterday I made a change in my schedule. Not that I have a schedule, I am not very organised when it comes to myself. But I was intent on staying in and dreaming. Instead I went out dreaming. Just a change of scene, and a change of everything. Sometimes I want to talk, talk, talk. Other times I know it's useless so I just shut up and listen, or nod in agreement to something which I haven't a clue about while my mind is miles away. It depends. We do not choose our families, but thankfully it hasn't turned out very wrong. At least I have a twin who can listen too, one who has a heart and is able to see things with his heart. And as a lawyer twin, that's a miracle. Perhaps we do not choose our partners either, we never choose who to love, it just happens. Love is not the answer to a tangible equation, but perhaps after so much time, I've got lucky in that too. Worse still we do not choose our brother in-law, but there it is, another heart there. So I guess I am quite lucky. I have also been lucky as whom I was born to, but of course there will always be the odd disagreement with my mother, which usually is her disagreeing which colour of nail polish I am wearing, and that's not too bad.
So yesterday's change of scene was supposed to be no big deal. But it was, and it hurt. And the worst part of it was that the people in the scene were only doing what is correct. So I couldn't even swear (ok that's not ladylike) under my breath at them. I could only sit and watch and approve and be thrown into a multitude of emotions. Perhaps my brain never registered pictures of yesterday's but now it seems it's making up for lost time. Nothing was wrong with my focaccia, nor with my risotto, no anywhere else. But at one point I had to get up with the excuse of needing a smoke. I don't think I really needed it, but I just had to get out, it was interfering with me a little too much. Mums and dads seem to be springing up like mushrooms in the rain forest, and they seem to be doing a good job at it. What made me an emotional flip was a child who, probably too tired, just slept at another table while his mum artfully wrapped him up in an almost white big cashmere scarf. Very pretty, but it dragged me to hell, and I didn't just have to look the other way, I just had to get out and fast. It was way too much. All righty, I have to admit that I am slave to a competitive streak (music does that for you), but this wasn't even competition, this was downright hurtful. And I couldn't very well walk up to that table and ask, Excuse me Madame would you mind taking your business of wrapping up your child lovingly, complete with a kiss elsewhere? That would have been loony, but still I wanted to get away. Not because I thought that the child didn't deserve his mum's behaviour, certainly not because I thought that the child didn't deserve all of that with the kiss as the cherry on the pie. It just made me realise what a lot some little people are missing out on. Forget the focaccia, and the glorious mud pie, but I couldn't forget what I had just saw. At 35 I know how to remove myself from things and situations which are hurtful to me. They are not necessarily hurtful to the rest of the world, but if they so much as touch me, then I'm gone, and fast. And outside, everything was dead quite. I felt so helpless. So I lit up, took a drag of nicotine (I know, I know, I'm trying to cut down), and tried to think what I could do in my helpless situation. Nothing. And that made me feel even more helpless. So I did what the Three Wise Men did, and took a look at the stars and pleaded with them that they might give my message. Nowadays it's called telepathy, and no I couldn't and will not go into the debate of whether it's real or not, whether it works or not. Because it's the only thing I have. In this day of communication, mobile phones, PDA's, laptops, computers, Internet.... I have to turn to the stars. So yes, I'm wishing on a star, plenty of stars just in case one won't do it, perhaps another will. Stars are safe, they know how to keep a secret. They know how to separate good from evil. It was a star which led the Three Kings to their destination, and I hope, that 2008 years later some star can deliver my message. I hope that stars have a very long life-span, so maybe that same star is still in business.
So yesterday's change of scene was supposed to be no big deal. But it was, and it hurt. And the worst part of it was that the people in the scene were only doing what is correct. So I couldn't even swear (ok that's not ladylike) under my breath at them. I could only sit and watch and approve and be thrown into a multitude of emotions. Perhaps my brain never registered pictures of yesterday's but now it seems it's making up for lost time. Nothing was wrong with my focaccia, nor with my risotto, no anywhere else. But at one point I had to get up with the excuse of needing a smoke. I don't think I really needed it, but I just had to get out, it was interfering with me a little too much. Mums and dads seem to be springing up like mushrooms in the rain forest, and they seem to be doing a good job at it. What made me an emotional flip was a child who, probably too tired, just slept at another table while his mum artfully wrapped him up in an almost white big cashmere scarf. Very pretty, but it dragged me to hell, and I didn't just have to look the other way, I just had to get out and fast. It was way too much. All righty, I have to admit that I am slave to a competitive streak (music does that for you), but this wasn't even competition, this was downright hurtful. And I couldn't very well walk up to that table and ask, Excuse me Madame would you mind taking your business of wrapping up your child lovingly, complete with a kiss elsewhere? That would have been loony, but still I wanted to get away. Not because I thought that the child didn't deserve his mum's behaviour, certainly not because I thought that the child didn't deserve all of that with the kiss as the cherry on the pie. It just made me realise what a lot some little people are missing out on. Forget the focaccia, and the glorious mud pie, but I couldn't forget what I had just saw. At 35 I know how to remove myself from things and situations which are hurtful to me. They are not necessarily hurtful to the rest of the world, but if they so much as touch me, then I'm gone, and fast. And outside, everything was dead quite. I felt so helpless. So I lit up, took a drag of nicotine (I know, I know, I'm trying to cut down), and tried to think what I could do in my helpless situation. Nothing. And that made me feel even more helpless. So I did what the Three Wise Men did, and took a look at the stars and pleaded with them that they might give my message. Nowadays it's called telepathy, and no I couldn't and will not go into the debate of whether it's real or not, whether it works or not. Because it's the only thing I have. In this day of communication, mobile phones, PDA's, laptops, computers, Internet.... I have to turn to the stars. So yes, I'm wishing on a star, plenty of stars just in case one won't do it, perhaps another will. Stars are safe, they know how to keep a secret. They know how to separate good from evil. It was a star which led the Three Kings to their destination, and I hope, that 2008 years later some star can deliver my message. I hope that stars have a very long life-span, so maybe that same star is still in business.
