TeddyGrams

The Secrets You Tell Your Teddybear.

Christmas lights. November 28, 2010

Have this unmatched capability to make me angry with my family. Every year, I get mad at the sloppy work of who ever decided to put them up. This year, it was me. My sister came home and asked with a slight tone of surprise “Did you put the lights up? They look really bad.” See the way it works is that one person decides to get them out, untangle them, sort them, make up some kind of plan, and then puts it all together. That one person always ends up doing a terrible job so my sister and/or I go and correct them the next day. It has become an unspoken tradition.

I had been locked in my room for days, leaving only for work, family, or very special friends. My dad even commented on how he hasn’t seem me for the longest time. I think he was a little worried. I put a smile on and told him I was going to the library and the park to get some reading done. Bad mistake. The library closed at 5pm apparently. I thought it was at 6, the fact that it was Sunday did not occur to me. I saw a couple friends there I wish I hadn’t. I turned and went to my  favorite swing. There I read some of Frankenstein.  I did my best to focus. I was getting into the book when I noticed that my face was wet. The book no longer held my attention, instead I let myself fall back into thought. My thoughts shifted to the previous times I had been on that swing. There was the project to clean up the park; there was the time I  ran into some students in classes I had helped; there was the time I just wanted to get away from it all; there was a time I ran into a guy and his family; and the time when I was just people watching. I’m sure I’ve been to that place more than I can remember. It’s been a spot I’ve loved since my previous neighbor’s grand daughter had been my best friend. We used to swing on those swings together when Ms. Carmen took her walks. We used to have Candy (my neighbor’s dog) wait near the fence and swing backwards looking at her.

I decided it was time to leave that place within 20 minutes of arriving. During the walk back to the truck I thought about where I wanted to be. Not just where I wanted to drive to at that moment, but where I wanted to be in life. It’s a difficult thing to explain. I decided to go to the gazebo that my friend and I share as a place to think and talk, during the drive there I realized the amount of time I was allowing myself to be free to think about whatever I wanted was holding me down. I needed some sort of distraction to occupy my mind.Christmas lights were what I thought of first, so I decided to head home instead.

I guess school should have that  covered until winter break. I doubt it will though.

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I’m looking for something important to write about. November 22, 2010

Google news, yahoo, and the AJC fail to capture my interest this morning. I have woken up to such a blah kind of mood. I know that those awful stories about whats going on in the world normally get to me, but not today.

It’s thanksgiving week. Last year, I made a list of everything I was thankful for. This year I plan to do the same so I’ve been thinking about it in my spare mental time. I started this list when I was with one of my best friends in a very relaxing, spiritual  place. Everyone around me was happy; they all knew each other and cared for each other. It was hard not to smile when in that atmosphere. It made me wonder: I have never felt this way while at my own family’s religious events. Is it that language barrier? Is it the fact that Hinduism does not actively seek to convert people, to convince people that it is right? No one prays for the non-believers during Hindu ceremonies, or if they do I have no understanding of it. As much as if that simple prayer for those who have not yet accepted God should have annoyed me, it made me feel like someone cared. Or maybe this was all due to the fact I was with one of my best friends who all this is very important to. Whatever the cause of that feeling was, I know that it was a very good experience.

An unrelated thing that I have been turning in my mind lately is the idea of regret. Some people say they live with no regrets. How is that even possible? Wouldn’t it require not ever rethinking the past? I mentioned this to one of my best friends recently. She said that she simply chose not to do things she would regret. Isn’t that the whole concept of regret though? Everything is in retrospect. Previous to making choices it is hesitation. Of course the biggest flaw of this plan is being wrong. What if you think you won’t regret something but you do? What then?  I try my best to make decisions that I can live with, but I have slipped up in the last few weeks a few times. I know for a fact that I have regrets, but I just don’t keep a running list to think about. I try to brush them off as new experiences and ignorance. I just really want a good explanation for this.

 

The meaning of “scandalous” has changed. September 24, 2009

Filed under: family,issues,school — teddygrams @ 11:03 pm
Tags: , , , , , ,

It was “Decade Day” at school. I wore a long poodle skirt from the 50s and makeup that took to long to put on. When I got to class I noticed my teacher had a poodle skirt on as well, but hers only came to just below her knees, this would have been scandalous at the time.

Nowadays, there is almost nothing when it comes to clothing that is scandalous. We have seen it all, or in in some cases haven’t seen clothing at all. It interesting how little one can wear in public, but nudism is still shunned. I understand the message of nudism, but personally I would never be comfortable enough to do it. I was thinking about this as I was changing from my fifties outfit into something more acceptable for my job at a cafe. I shimmed out of that long shielding skirt and back into the acceptable shorts of today and a T-shirt.

When I got home this became an issue. My father who is very traditional asked about why I would wear something so casual to work, even if I’m just cleaning and taking orders. He said that no one dressed as ridiculous as me. This is coming from a father who asked why I did not dress in 50s clothing everyday. I took this opportunity to open his eyes to how many of his clothing restrictions that I have followed in the past and still do. I have been careful about skirt lengths my whole life, made sure necklines weren’t too low, and struggled to find tank tops that weer acceptable.  He really didn’t understand what short shorts were. This have gotten to the point were one may have to question weather something is inner wear or outerwear and he is concerned with my modest running shorts.

This brings me to another thing that I noticed today. My entire family tends to point out that my clothing is inappropriate when it is just regular stuff. As soon as I put on a traditional eastern outfit, the only thing that I can possibly be reprimanded about is wearing the wrong color. People always say to pick and chose your battles, but sometime things are just go hand in hand. If I am allowed to wear a top that exposes half of my stomach, then why not a tank top that only exposes the shoulders? Before today I had just accepted this fact and laughed about it many times. But today, after that little argument, it stayed at the back of my mind bothering me.

To my father, anything that makes me look my age is scandalous. To my grandparents, anything causal is scandalous. To me, anything that could be mistaken for underwear is scandalous. To the world? The only type of scandals left related to clothing are wardrobe malfunctions or lack of clothing altogether.