berry-licious

Meriweather complete

You'll be pleased to know that I finished "For Meriweather" this morning. Check it out and tell me what you think. It was hard to decide on how to end it. I didn't want to be too obvious or too trite. Other possible endings could include:

1. She discovers he doesn't have a real package, but a pair of neuticals instead.
2. He's a she-male.
3. It's a set-up! He's a undercover cop trained to ferret out genital-grabbing freaks like her!

On and on and on and on...

I went to a former co-worker's bridal shower yesterday. She wore a pink dress and a tiara. We ate bad food (everything had meat in it! the salad had salami, the pasta had ground beef...so I ate a few celery stalks and a piece of bread...no one ever thinks of the gd vegetarians), we played stupid games (bridal bingo), and watched her open her HUUUGE stack of gifts (registry: Crate & Barrel, Pottery Barn, aka. nice, expensive stuff).

Ah, it sucked. It made me depressed and self-loathing, because I had to be there for three hours with all these people I didn't know, pretending to have fun and be interested. I hate it when I can't act like myself.

It also made me sad that my mom didn't offer to throw me a shower.

I have to admit, the one really sweet thing was watching her with all her aunties and her family friends. Many of the older women there had obviously watched her grow up. Of course the shower was stupid to me; I've only known her for a short time. But to all the other women there, the crappy salad and the silly games had meaning. Behind the gooing and gahing over dishware is a powerful ritual of a girl growing up and becoming an adult, becoming one of the clan.

I resist ceremony. I know I do. It's my own fault. And then I long for it at the most inappropriate time. It would have been nice to have my mom and some of her friends that have known me all my life, all together. It's continuity, it's relatedness, and that's a good thing. When I break with the past by choosing to do things in non-traditional ways, I shoot myself in the foot, in a way. Because,

Non-tradtional=individual=an invitation for isolation.

Traditional=groupthink=accepting the will of the pack.

I can't say that'd I'd do it all differently were I to do it all again, because I've never been so keen on herd mentality. I think I'd rather chew my own leg off than be chained to the group. But observing the way other women choose to live their lives does make me question my decisions, wonder about their impact down the road.

Oh yeah...and speaking of impact...I hope that I never gave my former co-worker the link to this blog.

Spider bite

Itchy.

Supernanny meets psycho beast child

Many readers of this blog will have heard me rant about my recent theory regarding the rash of horror films that feature kids gone bad. Really bad. Like channeling-the-devil bad. For example:

The Ring

Hide and Seek

Both of these films feature a supernatural kid bent on murder. There are others where children just plain scary:

Dark Water

The Others

The Sixth Sense

My theory is that there's a surge of these films because the modern cult of childhood has caused adults to fear their children. Kids have too much power. The idea that "we should do it for the children," or that we must "protect the children," and all of that kind of rhetoric that gets tossed around has led to a climate where we are afraid to do anything even close to the kind of discipline that was common even 20 years ago. Parents have become permissive to the extreme, for fear that they might otherwise damage their little one's confidence. And without any sense of boundaries, the kids are going insane. That fear is coming out in the films of recent: "Oh my god! My kid isn't just a brat, he's Satan incarnate!"

As E. pointed out, these film are different than films like "The Exorcist" or "Poltergeist" which also featured creepy kids. In those films, it wasn't the kids themselves that were bad, but some evil, outside force that had taken advantage of the child's innocence. In "The Exorcist," they don't kill Regan, they just punish the devil that's inhabiting her body. But in "The Ring," it's definately that little stringy-haired chick who needs some ass-whoopin'.

It's no accident that television shows like "Super Nanny" have emerged at the same time. I've caught an episode where a tiny British woman rolls up in a VW beetle to a house swarming with screaming, reckless kids. The parents are besides themselves. They can't figure out why their two year old won't take a bath! The five year old won't stop hitting the dog! Their teenage daughter has dyed her hair pink and stays out all night. Super Nanny spends a few days coaching mom and dad to get a backbone and all is put right.

I suppose it wouldn't be as exciting if when, in "The Ring," Naiomi Watts makes a copy of the evil video to save her son, instead, Super Nanny arrives and gives the creepy girl a time-out. But I sure would have enjoyed it. And I suppose it would have prevented the making of "The Ring 2."