Observations on the Human Condition
Jun. 9th, 2006 08:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I do not understand this phenomena of going up to a person with a baby and start talking to the baby, without even addressing the adult with said infant.
I find it rude and aggravating. Just personally, I have no idea how other people with babies perceive this social annoyance.
I mean, who the hell do they think they are? walking up to a person (who happens to be busy eating and/or reading, since they don't get much a chance to do at home because they have a baby to watch over) and disturb them and think it's fine and dandy, since they're complementing the baby and by extension you, that is me.
It sort of evaporates when whoever is fawning over the charming Libby, discovers (when I correct them) that I am her aunt, the mystique is gone, the bubble burst and I am no longer as interesting as they thought I was; all by virtue of the fact that I am not "Mummy" only "Aunty".
And I can just see what flows through their brain - "Poor baby, being left to be taken care of by a young woman who isn't her mother".
I can only assume, and of course I am projecting my own rage, they don't think - "Poor mother, she needs help with the baby," or "Why isn't there a father?" that is if they are even progressive enough to think of a father being an equal partner in the rearing of a baby.
The point of this hucking spiel.
Being in the US and away from my default environment and existence in the lovely, tiny land of Israel-Palestine, I must assert my identity.
Just by looking at me: shaved head, pale white skin, an average array of clothes consisting of cords, jeans, numerous styles of tank tops and t-shirts, I am just a run-o-the-mill, average, American girl (shaved head notwithstanding. Even talking, I manage to camouflage my way in here, due to my knack of emulating the accent of whomever I am talking to.
My American friends can assert this fact (or tell me I'm imagining things, am I?).
It is a knack that drives my family crazy (it is also the source of numerous teasing from my brother) and I make sure to swallow my "R"'s and hollow my vowels when I speak to non-South Africans in English in their presence.
Yup, we are pigeonholed by the people who see us by virtue of the environment we are in and the accessories we bring into said environment.
I don't really have anything significant to say about this, I'm just commenting on an observation of the human condition.
I also thought of an idea for a Fantasy-Sci-Fi epic which would look great as a comic book.
nurint you wanna be a comic drawer for my thing once there's an actual plot going and it goes beyond a pathetic prologue and a main character?
I find it rude and aggravating. Just personally, I have no idea how other people with babies perceive this social annoyance.
I mean, who the hell do they think they are? walking up to a person (who happens to be busy eating and/or reading, since they don't get much a chance to do at home because they have a baby to watch over) and disturb them and think it's fine and dandy, since they're complementing the baby and by extension you, that is me.
It sort of evaporates when whoever is fawning over the charming Libby, discovers (when I correct them) that I am her aunt, the mystique is gone, the bubble burst and I am no longer as interesting as they thought I was; all by virtue of the fact that I am not "Mummy" only "Aunty".
And I can just see what flows through their brain - "Poor baby, being left to be taken care of by a young woman who isn't her mother".
I can only assume, and of course I am projecting my own rage, they don't think - "Poor mother, she needs help with the baby," or "Why isn't there a father?" that is if they are even progressive enough to think of a father being an equal partner in the rearing of a baby.
The point of this hucking spiel.
Being in the US and away from my default environment and existence in the lovely, tiny land of Israel-Palestine, I must assert my identity.
Just by looking at me: shaved head, pale white skin, an average array of clothes consisting of cords, jeans, numerous styles of tank tops and t-shirts, I am just a run-o-the-mill, average, American girl (shaved head notwithstanding. Even talking, I manage to camouflage my way in here, due to my knack of emulating the accent of whomever I am talking to.
My American friends can assert this fact (or tell me I'm imagining things, am I?).
It is a knack that drives my family crazy (it is also the source of numerous teasing from my brother) and I make sure to swallow my "R"'s and hollow my vowels when I speak to non-South Africans in English in their presence.
Yup, we are pigeonholed by the people who see us by virtue of the environment we are in and the accessories we bring into said environment.
I don't really have anything significant to say about this, I'm just commenting on an observation of the human condition.
I also thought of an idea for a Fantasy-Sci-Fi epic which would look great as a comic book.
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no subject
Date: 2006-06-10 02:04 pm (UTC)And, seriously, those people are so ignorant to assume that Libby is a "poor baby" because she's being taken care of by her, *gasp* Aunt!!! Hello, mothers work, it ain't the 50's anymore and Libby's really lucky to be taken care of by you, her Aunt.
yes, you do emulate the accent of whomever you're around :D