Conflictedness
You know how when you're growing up, you can call your siblings every name under the sun, but as soon as someone else tries to get in on the act, you go bananas? That's how I'm feeling at the moment, except even more conflicted...
My sister has (mild) cerebral palsy, so of course, my very favourite method of pissing her off was to call her a spastic...
"Don't call me that, that's not true..."
"It is so - where do you have to go every couple of months?"
"The Multi-Purpose centre!"
"Yeah - and that's just the nice name for the Spastic Centre"
"Muuuummmm, ActonB's calling me a Spastic. Again. Tell her not too..."
etc etc etc. ad nausieum.
In my defence, I did have to spend hours, indeed probably years of my life doing her damn exercises with her, lazy arse that she is.
But as soon as some other kid at school decided to try that trick, Tory would come running over to me and I'd go yell at them. And occasionally punch 'em. Or kick them with my steel-capped Mary Janes. In fact, the last time that I had to defend my poor little sister was when I was in Year 12 and she was in Year 10 - one of her best and oldest friends had decided to play the cool card and pick on Tory's handicap (which was completely ridiculous as Tory had the cool friends and Natasha was an ubergeek) Anyway, another little friend came to find me (intrepidly entering the Senior Quad to seek me out) and when I found out what had gone down I just saw red, and stormed out in true Samuel L Jackson style, hellbent on righteous vengeance. I found the little bitch still sitting with all her little geek friends, congratulating herself on making Tory cry... I stood over her and with barely-controlled fury I hissed and spat utter contempt on her. Ha! She burst into tears, all Tory's other friends stood around, jaws dropping, quietly reminding themselves never to piss off Tory... I walked away, back to the Senior Quad where I promptly collapsed into a quivering mess, because confrontation is so not my thing.
Interesting aside: When I'd had the twins, I joined a mother's group again, just for a bit of moral support - and yes, there was Natasha with her newborn son. Ha! The kid still can't talk. And has a big head.
So anyway, my point:
The Shire.
Now I grew up in Miranda, went to school there, got married in Gymea, spent the first year of married life in Cronulla. My parents and MrB's parents still live in the Shire. I work in the Shire. I know the Shire through and through. And I left. We left, because we knew that although the Shire was a great place to bring kids up in the 70s and 80s, it had changed, and not for the better. But - lots of our friends and family choose to stay there, base their lives there, and it's pissing me off in the extreme to have this place that means so much to me, written off as this racist 'inbredneck' heartland. Because it's not.
There are racists that live in the Shire. There are racists that live in every suburb and town around this whole damn country. I know the Shire. I know the people. So. I can criticise them and make jokes about them, but don't you dare try and do the same, because it triggers some primal instinct whereby I shout and scream and stamp my little feet.
So you see my little 'conflict' problem here...?
My sister has (mild) cerebral palsy, so of course, my very favourite method of pissing her off was to call her a spastic...
"Don't call me that, that's not true..."
"It is so - where do you have to go every couple of months?"
"The Multi-Purpose centre!"
"Yeah - and that's just the nice name for the Spastic Centre"
"Muuuummmm, ActonB's calling me a Spastic. Again. Tell her not too..."
etc etc etc. ad nausieum.
In my defence, I did have to spend hours, indeed probably years of my life doing her damn exercises with her, lazy arse that she is.
But as soon as some other kid at school decided to try that trick, Tory would come running over to me and I'd go yell at them. And occasionally punch 'em. Or kick them with my steel-capped Mary Janes. In fact, the last time that I had to defend my poor little sister was when I was in Year 12 and she was in Year 10 - one of her best and oldest friends had decided to play the cool card and pick on Tory's handicap (which was completely ridiculous as Tory had the cool friends and Natasha was an ubergeek) Anyway, another little friend came to find me (intrepidly entering the Senior Quad to seek me out) and when I found out what had gone down I just saw red, and stormed out in true Samuel L Jackson style, hellbent on righteous vengeance. I found the little bitch still sitting with all her little geek friends, congratulating herself on making Tory cry... I stood over her and with barely-controlled fury I hissed and spat utter contempt on her. Ha! She burst into tears, all Tory's other friends stood around, jaws dropping, quietly reminding themselves never to piss off Tory... I walked away, back to the Senior Quad where I promptly collapsed into a quivering mess, because confrontation is so not my thing.
Interesting aside: When I'd had the twins, I joined a mother's group again, just for a bit of moral support - and yes, there was Natasha with her newborn son. Ha! The kid still can't talk. And has a big head.
So anyway, my point:
The Shire.
Now I grew up in Miranda, went to school there, got married in Gymea, spent the first year of married life in Cronulla. My parents and MrB's parents still live in the Shire. I work in the Shire. I know the Shire through and through. And I left. We left, because we knew that although the Shire was a great place to bring kids up in the 70s and 80s, it had changed, and not for the better. But - lots of our friends and family choose to stay there, base their lives there, and it's pissing me off in the extreme to have this place that means so much to me, written off as this racist 'inbredneck' heartland. Because it's not.
There are racists that live in the Shire. There are racists that live in every suburb and town around this whole damn country. I know the Shire. I know the people. So. I can criticise them and make jokes about them, but don't you dare try and do the same, because it triggers some primal instinct whereby I shout and scream and stamp my little feet.
So you see my little 'conflict' problem here...?
Labels: Shire Girl
posted by actonb at 9:26 am
9 Comments:
I'm the same with the western suburbs. I can make fun of Westies, but I get a little protective when other people do it. And I get very tired of the assumption that no-one would live out west by choice, because it's rubbish. Some people like backyards.
So I getcha.
And indeed, tis true further West. They may have some hell rednecks out here in The Sandgroper State, but they are my (adopted) rednecks, and we'll hang our aboriginals in custody when it suits us, and honour our corrupt businessmen as heroes for as long as we like, thank you...
LaRue - I understand that people want yards - I just don't get the McMansion phenonmenon. Coz they don't have yards... But this is a curse which is afflicting the South Coast too...
Donnie - er, yes. Quite. Precisely in fact.
And I have a special post just for you tomorrow!
AB - true. I'm all aghast at the mcmansion for about 40 different reasons. But that's not all that you get out west. The mcmansion is mostly about the new estates they keep releasing. And yes - they're everywhere, and not just in the western suburbs.
1. My mother
2. My sister and GF (not one in the same thankfully)
3. My friends
Dont mess with them......
The mind boggles, AB. However, in anticipation, I have paid-it- forward by posting some new pics of The Princess Mountjoy for you to make suitable ohhing and ahhhing sounds at, over at RFYP. That, apparently, is what you are supposed to do when encountering a 2 month old - if my encounters with clucky ducks at the local Centro are any barometer.
the shire is no worse than anywhere else, i'd say. as always, it a minority who cause all the hoo-hah and give a bad name to the rest.
And all this on the same day I make a crack about Cronulla.
Anyways, I nearly got suspended in year 9. This girl was being a general bitch to me (as was her want), which was fine. But then she may have made a crack about my brother, so I punched her in the face. Didn't really go down well in an all girls private school.
Donnie - I went, I saw, I commented...
Mars - It's true, there are bad things about it; there are good things about it. Same as eberywhere really. It's just this flag thing has really brought it all to the fore again.
OMel - 'sok, I know that it's just a catchphrase now. Still doesn't it make it hurt any less. And I know you don't mean it :) Or you better hadn't... my stamping feet are getting itchy :)
The sibling thing is funny - they can be the bane of your life, but anyone else say anything bad about them, and that protective lioness comes out...
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