eumelia: (little death - thinking)
[personal profile] eumelia
I have been absent, not because stuff in my life hasn't been happening or because I found myself unable to comment on politics in my locale, or even because I've been exceedingly busy (though I have been).

I was actually going to update yesterday, but due to the DDoS attack on Livejournal I found myself reluctant to put down in words my thoughts and such, because I wasn't sure whether the cross-posting would work. Let me tell you, I am so happy my DW and LJ are mirrors of each other and that everything is basically backed-up in that way.

I've been contemplating what I'll be doing next year, and I've been zigzagging between various decisions none of which feel resolved to me, but life in flux isn't all bad, I have the chance to reflect and think about things.

One of the things that made me want to get back to making regular updates, is giving a bit of an anecdote about my niece Libby (she's the big one, not the infant), because looking back since the beginning of the year, my writing here has been choppy and scarce, hopefully you all have been noticing, and even if you haven't I have.

Hopefully I can get back to spieling at you all on a regular basis.
There has also been a "taking television seriously" reason that got me blocked for a time, I might get into that here or later. Oh... now that I that I think about, I have a lot to write about, suddenly!

But first, being the self-centered and proud Auntie that I am (I even have a nickname!) I want to talk about how this anecdote reflects how foreign I feel in my own life, sometimes.

Over the weekend, during lunch time, I was sitting around the dining room table with my Niece Libby, my mother ("Mummy" to me, "Granny" for Libby) and we were talking about this and that when out of the blue, little five year old Libby (who is so shrewd, god, she Sees All!) asks me:
"Gaga, when are you getting married?"
I nearly chocked on my water, yeah she waited for me to drink to dump that one on me... sneaky little...
My mom snickered evilly, and looked at me expectantly.
"Um, I'm not, Libby"
"Why?" she continued, sitting there in a t-shirt and chiffon skirt, a wide head band kept her hair from getting into her eyes and food, she was blinking at me, trying to look innocent.
We both know she's nothing of the sort.
"Why what?" I returned. We both knew perfectly well what was "what".
"Why aren't you getting married?"
"Yes, Melly, why aren't you getting married" my mom said, butting in.
"Well, for one thing I don't have anyone to marry and another, I don't want to" I said.

Then, my friends, oh, I was flabbergasted!

"Is it because you don't want to kiss on the mouth?" she asked! Asked!! She asked me that! Children know so much, really, we don't give them enough credit and we have this outdated notion that because we know the world in a certain way, that it is all there is know.
Libby knows, at five, she knows plenty.

I, being the cool-and-takes-her-nieces-and-nephews-seriously aunt said:
"Libby, my love, that ship has sailed, I've kissed on the mouth and liked it. Kissing on the mouth has nothing to do with getting married. You don't have to get married in order to kiss on the mouth. You kiss people you like and, or love on the mouth, what does marriage have to do with it?"

My answer shut her up for a few moments and I could tell my mom was impressed, because she completely agreed with me.

Libby continued: "People you love?"
"Or just like" I said.

My mom then said, "Here, I love you" and made a kissy-face at Libby who delightfully pecked her Granny on the lips.

"See! You and Granny love each other, so you kiss!"

And then Libby giggled and ran away. No doubt thinking about kisses that didn't include her Granny kisses.

My mom said she asked because she watches television shows that showed that kind of thing. I asked Libby if she watched programs that showed bigger kids kissing and she said, nope. I don't think she has, more likely the only people she sees who kiss each other on the mouth are her parents, grandparents and other aunts and uncles all of whom are married.
Which kind of makes me want to date someone just so Libby (and the other young ones) see the different possibilities. One of them does include single-hood, of course, but that's very invisible. But the queer was invisible due to issues if I'm going to put it mildly, but I'm feeling more confident regarding that at this point in my life. A bit, at least.

I should find a girlfriend for myself, really, and not just to be cool-and-queer aunt Mel a.k.a Gaga (yeah, that's my nickname!), though that's a really big perk :-)
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eumelia: (Default)

June 2015

 12345 6

V and Justice

V: Ah, I was forgetting that we are not properly introduced. I do not have a name. You can call me V. Madam Justice...this is V. V... this is Madam Justice. hello, Madam Justice.

Justice: Good evening, V.

V: There. Now we know each other. Actually, I've been a fan of yours for quite some time. Oh, I know what you're thinking...

Justice: The poor boy has a crush on adolescent fatuation.

V: I beg your pardon, Madam. It isn't like that at all. I've long admired you...albeit only from a distance. I used to stare at you from the streets below when I was a child. I'd say to my father, "Who is that lady?" And he'd say "That's Madam Justice." And I'd say "Isn't she pretty."

V: Please don't think it was merely physical. I know you're not that sort of girl. No, I loved you as a person. As an ideal.

Justice: What? V! For shame! You have betrayed me for some harlot, some vain and pouting hussy with painted lips and a knowing smile!

V: I, Madam? I beg to differ! It was your infidelity that drove me to her arms!

V: Ah-ha! That surprised you, didn't it? You thought I didn't know about your little fling. But I do. I know everything! Frankly, I wasn't surprised when I found out. You always did have an eye for a man in uniform.

Justice: Uniform? Why I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. It was always you, V. You were the only one...

V: Liar! Slut! Whore! Deny that you let him have his way with you, him with his armbands and jackboots!

V: Well? Cat got your tongue? I though as much.

V: Very well. So you stand revealed at last. you are no longer my justice. You are his justice now. You have bedded another.

Justice: Sob! Choke! Wh-who is she, V? What is her name?

V: Her name is Anarchy. And she has taught me more as a mistress than you ever did! She has taught me that justice is meaningless without freedom. She is honest. She makes no promises and breaks none. Unlike you, Jezebel. I used to wonder why you could never look me in the eye. Now I know. So good bye, dear lady. I would be saddened by our parting even now, save that you are no longer the woman I once loved.


-"V for Vendetta"


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