The other day on Facebook, one of my former students posted this status. It had me laughing so hard I asked her if I could share it with you:
The day you realize you’re no longer an adolescent: When you genuinely feel excited that you finally found a dishwasher detergent tablet that works well on stuck-on food… Doomed
Julia Goodridge
How about you? When was the thing that told you that you finally weren’t an adolescent any more?
True confession.
I am a Star Wars geek.
Any time that any episode of the Star Wars movies is on TV, it is turned on. It doesn’t necessarily mean I am watching it closely. In fact, I’m probably not. But having it playing in the background is like spending time with an old friend. Just the company is nice.
Back in the day when these movies were playing in the theatres, we eagerly awaited the arrival of the second movie- The Empire Strikes Back at the time. Waited. Waited. Waited. Finally it was out and we crowded to the theatres. We sat on the edges of our seats as the story played out, and just as things were coming to a peak of tension….
…the movie stopped.
It didn’t end, because nothing was resolved. It just stopped. Right in the middle. I was SOOOOOOOOOOOO frustrated!!!! I was angry. I’m still angry, actually. I remain so embittered about that theatre experience that when The Empire Strikes Back is on my TV, I ignore it as much as possible.
Take that George Lucas!
These guys apparently know my pain. Check out this awesome video of How Empire Strikes Back Should Have Ended… (Thanks Kelsey!)
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Once upon a time I had a friend who was a middle child. She was an eldest daughter between a precious son and an adorable daughter. She was the kind of child who chafed at constriction, who felt injustice and inequality, who was determined to have her own way even if it hurt.
She made some choices that were painful for friends and family alike. But time wore down the edges, softened attitudes and then life blossomed. She joyfully awaited the birth of a child. Like many things with her, it was a high risk endeavour. She didn’t do things the easy way. Doctors said they’d ensure the delivery was a safe one.
The child arrived, but the delivery wasn’t safe. There came baby, blood, coma and after a time of lingering, she left. A final injustice.
She didn’t get to see her baby grown into an amazing young woman. She didn’t get to become all she could have been herself. But she lives on in our memories, and on her birthday, a tear may fall…
Thinking of her today.
I was speaking to a young lady today, who was explaining why she’d quit her job. The new management was making a lot of changes that where making the business more inefficient, and then were complaining that the staff weren’t as fast. This young lady suggested the boss knew precisely what the staff thought of her because “I don’t have a good poker face. I have a ‘I think you’re stupid’ face.”
It still makes me chuckle.
Meet Herb.
Herb is almost 97 (I know, he doesn’t look it, does he?)
Herb is fascinated with my book and the whole concept of electronic publishing. He spent his whole life as a salesman, and he has a million questions about the book and my marketing strategies. He is confused but intrigued by all the modern internet sales and strategies. He wants to know, “what are you doing about this? Are you doing this?” etc. He’s very enthused about the whole thing. If he was 20 years younger I could have hired him to be promotional coordinator, and I would be on the New York Times best seller list in a matter of months.
Every time I see him, he asks for more business cards. Every person he meets, he hands over a card and tells him to look up this book. Young people around here say, “Oh! Mrs. Bird, the teacher! I know her!” and he’s thrilled. Older people he convinces that they need to buy this book for their kids and grandkids.
Because he is mostly blind, I made him an audio copy of the early draft of Grace Awakening a couple years ago. I think this sold him on the whole thing. He is certain everyone will love the story, because he did (and he’s 80 years beyond my target audience).
Every author should have such a devoted marketer.
Thanks Dad!
True story.
Names hidden to protect the guilty.
Husband to wife, as he cuts a slice of homemade carrot, banana, pineapple cake with whipped lemon buttercream icing: “Are you fighting the urge for sweet things lately?”
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Wife, who has lost almost 30 lbs in the last year: “No. I’m not fighting…”
One of my former students, who was a beta reader for Grace Awakening, wrote me the other day to tell me how she was thinking about downloading some music for her iPod. She thought, “I should download that song Ben wrote for Grace” and then realised with some chagrin, oh wait. That doesn’t really exist.
The note has made me smile all week. I love that my characters are so alive! I love that Ben is so real that people want to find the music described in the book for their iPod.
Of course, there was music that inspired all the music Ben writes for Grace. I don’t think I could have written it without remembering the feeling of listening to a composition created just for me by a musician I adored. (See the blog entitled “Starry Night of Music” for a general sense of it!) When I find the missing cassette tape, I promise to post my Graduation tune (providing the composer gives permission, that is). Until then, perhaps you can find something inspiring among the demo reels at Bhatia Music?
I got my auto insurance renewal notice from ICBC the other day. As I read down to the bottom, I noticed a ‘clip off’ section with the note: “Don’t let this disappear under a pile of paperwork. Cut out the slip below and stick it on the fridge.”
I pointed it out to my husband and commented, “Hon, look! ICBC knows me!”
He snickered and said, “If they really knew you, they’d say, ‘Quick, give this notice to your husband.’”
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All the sadder because it’s so true. I adore that man who keeps my world spinning by maintaining the mundane order of things. Whatever would I do without him? Someone recently asked me how I manage to keep a daily blog, teach, write a novel, and ‘all the other stuff.’ He’s why. He holds the string so I can fly.
prompt #61 What is the longest you’ve been awake?
The morning dawned with excitement. Today our exchange group was off to Quebec! Our Quebecois ‘jumelles’ had been in town for two weeks, I had celebrated my 16th birthday with them, and now it was our turn to explore a new community on the other side of the country. Of course, it was a red eye charter, but we were young and filled our jumelles’ last day with fun before heading to the airport for our midnight flight to Vancouver.
In Vancouver, several hundred teens were sent to an army drill hall to wait for our flight which was to depart in the wee hours of the morning. We were starting to get distinctly blurry eyed at this point, without much to do but visit. Some napped, some, like me, were still too excited about the cross Canada journey to consider sleeping. It was something like 6 a.m when the plane left the tarmack in Vancouver. We watched the sun rise across the country and landed in the very empty Mirabel Airport in Montreal. Some of the group left us in Montreal, the rest of us waited for buses to take us to our host communities.
My bus took us first to Quebec City, then another bus took us south into the Beauce region. It was now dinner time. My jumelle’s parents greeted us, fed us a lovely dinner, and then she told them about her adventures in the West. Somewhere around ten or eleven o’clock we crashed from exhaustion and I slept fourteen hours to recover. We had been awake for over forty hours.
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I have since had several other long trips with many connections and time changes. I have many times been awake close to this long (or perhaps longer), but this was the first such adventure, and it remains rooted firmly in my memory.
in spite of themselves July 4, 2011
Tags: adolescence, autonomy, postaday2011
Yesterday I touched on a common thing with 13-14 year olds, that they have to challenge the adults and complain. It’s nothing personal, it’s just their way of asserting their autonomy, even if it hurts them more than anyone else.
We have an old family video that illustrates this well. I’m a baby, so my brother is about 14. The family is off to Vancouver Island to spend time at my dad’s company cabin on Long Beach, in what is now Pacific Rim National Park. While the rest of the family sits out in the wind enjoying the ferry ride, bro is sitting inside with a comic book, ignoring everyone else. When the camera comes near him, he scowls. Later, I’m toddling along the shore, my sister is playing with a dingy in the waves with a friend, and again, bro is reading a comic and scowling. After several days, he was finally bored with his comics and went exploring. He met an old beach comber who let him tag along. Bro was fascinated by this old guy and his stories. When it came time to go, he scowled because he had to leave. When we watch the video and tease him about this, he says, “I was stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
I do. He was being a poster boy for the oppositional nature of adolescence.
The last week of school I arranged a game for my class. The worst whiner grumbled as usual. I made him play the game. He participated, laughed and had fun. Afterwards, I pointed out that because he complained so much, he missed out on things he’d really enjoy. He smirked and admitted that he knew that. He observed that sometimes his parents force him to do things, and when he finds himself enjoying the activity, he has to make a point of complaining a bit so they ‘don’t think they won.’
That just about sums it up, doesn’t it? Opposition for the sake of opposition! Thankfully, sometime around their 15th birthdays they discover they can assert their own autonomy without opposing everyone else’s. That’s when they reach maturity.
Just like a fruit that looks as if it’s ripe, adolescence needs a little sour time to properly develop into sweet maturity.
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