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Thing One:
The upcoming release of the extended version of The Two Towers, with its included scenes of Boromir with his brother and father, has started me thinking on a particular peculiar strain of reflection.
People I know, whom I meet as individuals, I never actually think of where they might fall in sibling order, what influences their families may have had on them, how they might be perceived by people who grew up with them. Boromir was presented as a self-contained character in Fellowship. Of course it's accepted that his father's expectations put demands on him that influenced his actions and behavior. But somehow I never thought to wonder what sort of person the character would have seemed to a younger sibling. The people I meet in life are like that, self-contained, themselves alone, without regard to their siblings or other family. Until I meet someone's brother, or sister, older or younger, and see the interplay between them. It's like watching a stranger sometimes, a part of this person that I know not at all, that I have, or have had till now, no access to, primarily because I never actually was aware it existed.
I'm an only child, so sibling interaction is a foreign experience to me anyway. And I know that every segment of a human's life is, well, segmented, from the others. But when the different areas touch, it becomes interesting what facets of personality change, and which don't. Humans=strange and mesmerising.
Thing two: Um, I forget. Maybe it'll come back to me later.
Hah! Remembered.
There is a group of women with whom I meet once a month for lunch. We began as a twice-monthly writing group, but two of the women are much older, both still vital, one has recently begun a commercial print modeling career, as well as managing the finances for her brother's and her son's joint business, as well as their personal tax records, etc. The other is a painter. Both of them had some health issues a few years ago and decided to concentrate on the most important things--writing was not that, for either of them. They really wanted to continue to meet, however, and for several months the fourth member and I struggled through "writing group" meetings where neither of the others was interested in writing. One of them critiqued so savagely that we stopped offering her opportunities, the other was dismissive. So we decided to meet monthly for lunch, to "catch up" and keep in touch.
Fine.
I have been on a weight-reduction diet since I was 11 years old. When I was 17-18, my GP prescribed speed, which I took instead of eating and really lost weight! So I went off the pills and started eating again. Of course I started gaining the weight back, so I got a refill. This time my heart started playing Dixie and I started passing out, randomly. No speed for Bev. I hate exercise. Veg aren't food, they're animal fodder. I eat animals, and animal products: cheese, ice cream, sour cream. I have food issues. Which I handled by avoiding dealing with food. I raised two kids healthily enough, but once I was no longer responsible for their diet? I stopped planning meals, shopping for food, preparing food, cooking and storing food. H was a house-husband for a period in our marriage and It Was Good. He's a chef-quality cook, and he loves it. He put delicious things in front of me in reasonable proportions, and I ate them, and I never had to enter the kitchen. Most of my life is founded on an avoidance of food. Also? I'm budgetarily constrained, and I resent spending the little discretionary money I have on "atmosphere" and indifferent food.
Why I agreed to lunch meetings is beyond me. At the time it seemed like the lesser of two evils. Now? I just want to strangle the other women. We started out meeting at small quirky cafes where the food was expensive but affordable and good. Now we've moved on to chi-chi places where all the surfaces are hard and reflect noise, the decor is bright and trendy, the rep is "new!" and the food is, at best, indifferent, but we pay through the nose for the privilege of perching on uncomfortable chairs, our ears assaulted by the clink and chatter of other patrons, and the waitstaff is Oh.So.Bored.
I resent it. I resent that each of the other three has money to throw away on this type of thing, and seem to enjoy it, while I squirm through it and wait for it to be done so I can leave. I would love to sit down somewhere comfortable and quiet and really talk to these people for an hour or two, without the foofaraw, but they're all apparently so busy the only time they can give me is lunch. Which just puts my teeth on edge and is making me not want to see them at all.
So, I was talking about it with the-other-one-who-still-writes, who with me founded a new writing group, and with whom I'm closer than I am with the other two. I feel churlish, and the other two have noticed. I don't know what to do about it, because all three of them obviously enjoy their meetings, and wish to include me. I feel prickly and all edges about this, and I do not want to throw down another $12 for a ragged leaf of iceberg and a tired tomato with a white cup of ick on the side. I've tried not ordering, and I sit there and watch them eat food I know I can't/shouldn't have, and while I really don't want it, sitting through watching them eat makes me want it. They don't want to meet aside from lunch.
I think I'm just going to have to stop going. Either that, or figure out a way to attend and not eat that won't make me nuts.
But it puzzles me that they sit there with their forks poised, their heads cocked, eyes bright, chatting merrily away, and obviously having a wonderful time...and I don't seem able to join in that comradely feeling. How do I do that?
The upcoming release of the extended version of The Two Towers, with its included scenes of Boromir with his brother and father, has started me thinking on a particular peculiar strain of reflection.
People I know, whom I meet as individuals, I never actually think of where they might fall in sibling order, what influences their families may have had on them, how they might be perceived by people who grew up with them. Boromir was presented as a self-contained character in Fellowship. Of course it's accepted that his father's expectations put demands on him that influenced his actions and behavior. But somehow I never thought to wonder what sort of person the character would have seemed to a younger sibling. The people I meet in life are like that, self-contained, themselves alone, without regard to their siblings or other family. Until I meet someone's brother, or sister, older or younger, and see the interplay between them. It's like watching a stranger sometimes, a part of this person that I know not at all, that I have, or have had till now, no access to, primarily because I never actually was aware it existed.
I'm an only child, so sibling interaction is a foreign experience to me anyway. And I know that every segment of a human's life is, well, segmented, from the others. But when the different areas touch, it becomes interesting what facets of personality change, and which don't. Humans=strange and mesmerising.
Thing two: Um, I forget. Maybe it'll come back to me later.
Hah! Remembered.
There is a group of women with whom I meet once a month for lunch. We began as a twice-monthly writing group, but two of the women are much older, both still vital, one has recently begun a commercial print modeling career, as well as managing the finances for her brother's and her son's joint business, as well as their personal tax records, etc. The other is a painter. Both of them had some health issues a few years ago and decided to concentrate on the most important things--writing was not that, for either of them. They really wanted to continue to meet, however, and for several months the fourth member and I struggled through "writing group" meetings where neither of the others was interested in writing. One of them critiqued so savagely that we stopped offering her opportunities, the other was dismissive. So we decided to meet monthly for lunch, to "catch up" and keep in touch.
Fine.
I have been on a weight-reduction diet since I was 11 years old. When I was 17-18, my GP prescribed speed, which I took instead of eating and really lost weight! So I went off the pills and started eating again. Of course I started gaining the weight back, so I got a refill. This time my heart started playing Dixie and I started passing out, randomly. No speed for Bev. I hate exercise. Veg aren't food, they're animal fodder. I eat animals, and animal products: cheese, ice cream, sour cream. I have food issues. Which I handled by avoiding dealing with food. I raised two kids healthily enough, but once I was no longer responsible for their diet? I stopped planning meals, shopping for food, preparing food, cooking and storing food. H was a house-husband for a period in our marriage and It Was Good. He's a chef-quality cook, and he loves it. He put delicious things in front of me in reasonable proportions, and I ate them, and I never had to enter the kitchen. Most of my life is founded on an avoidance of food. Also? I'm budgetarily constrained, and I resent spending the little discretionary money I have on "atmosphere" and indifferent food.
Why I agreed to lunch meetings is beyond me. At the time it seemed like the lesser of two evils. Now? I just want to strangle the other women. We started out meeting at small quirky cafes where the food was expensive but affordable and good. Now we've moved on to chi-chi places where all the surfaces are hard and reflect noise, the decor is bright and trendy, the rep is "new!" and the food is, at best, indifferent, but we pay through the nose for the privilege of perching on uncomfortable chairs, our ears assaulted by the clink and chatter of other patrons, and the waitstaff is Oh.So.Bored.
I resent it. I resent that each of the other three has money to throw away on this type of thing, and seem to enjoy it, while I squirm through it and wait for it to be done so I can leave. I would love to sit down somewhere comfortable and quiet and really talk to these people for an hour or two, without the foofaraw, but they're all apparently so busy the only time they can give me is lunch. Which just puts my teeth on edge and is making me not want to see them at all.
So, I was talking about it with the-other-one-who-still-writes, who with me founded a new writing group, and with whom I'm closer than I am with the other two. I feel churlish, and the other two have noticed. I don't know what to do about it, because all three of them obviously enjoy their meetings, and wish to include me. I feel prickly and all edges about this, and I do not want to throw down another $12 for a ragged leaf of iceberg and a tired tomato with a white cup of ick on the side. I've tried not ordering, and I sit there and watch them eat food I know I can't/shouldn't have, and while I really don't want it, sitting through watching them eat makes me want it. They don't want to meet aside from lunch.
I think I'm just going to have to stop going. Either that, or figure out a way to attend and not eat that won't make me nuts.
But it puzzles me that they sit there with their forks poised, their heads cocked, eyes bright, chatting merrily away, and obviously having a wonderful time...and I don't seem able to join in that comradely feeling. How do I do that?