Jan. 14th, 2013

bogwitch64: (Krohe)
...one of them being they all seem to think I'm the same person I was back then. I long ago admitted that I played a role in high school. I played the pretty little ditz without a coherent thought in my head. I played the role so well I actually believed it for a long time, until my mom unearthed some old report cards that proved I carried nearly straight 4s (A) in all my classes--the exception being any math class I happened to be taking. (Math was never my great love.) It made me remember that my teachers thought highly of me and my smarts, often chose me for more "elevated" assignments when my peers were doing the standard curriculum, and wrote a senior paper on Tolkien that my English teacher read aloud to all her classes for years afterward, as an example of what she expects from her students' senior papers.

Yeah, not so ditzy, eh?

Anyway, can't really blame my old friends for holding on to that ditzy image of me--to an extent. I mean, it's not like we've had NO contact. They know I have raised four children, wrote two + books; we correspond on Facebook and have seen one another at various gatherings over the years. I don't automatically see them as who they were anymore but they can't seem to--or don't want to--shake MY image.

This got brought to mind again over the weekend, in commenting on a Facebook post of one of these old friends. He posted up a pic of the place we used to hang out, Buttermilk Falls. I commented, "Is it insane that after all the times up there, this is the first time I'm actually SEEING the falls? Says things I REALLY don't want my kids hearing!"
To which my friend responded: "It's just a falls, Terri. Duh."

He apparently didn't read carefully, and more's the DUH to him, but the fact is, he expected a dumb answer from me, and not only did he expect it, he made sure to add the "duh" so I'd know he caught me being dumb. It's not just this person who does that. It's several of them--and when I think more carefully about it, the ones who still treat ME like the ditz I pretended to be in high school are the ones who are still most like who THEY were in high school. So...I guess I just figured that out, right there. Ah, the glories of having a place to do such things!

The weekend was grand, though we are all still hacking our brains out. This cold just won't quit. Now my younger son's glands are so swollen he looks like he has the mumps. I, myself, feel better, but going up and down the stairs is still a major workout for my lungs. I have to get back to the gym tomorrow. HAVE TO. But I'm not sure how much I'm going to be able to do without leaving my lungs on the mat.

It's Monday, and that means a new post is up over on Heroines of Fantasy. Mark talks about play, and the importance of it in life and literature.


bogwitch64: (Default)

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