SA 12/1 Charmed, I'm sure.
Dec. 1st, 2002 09:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cthulhiaBack when I worked at Community Newspapers (on and off contracts in 3 offices from spring 98 to spring 99, odd to think it was for only a year and that long ago) the hell design pages were the Society pages. I first got saddled with them because I was the temp. But they were an addictive read. Pictures of standard beauties, the sorts of folks I'd grown up with at my sisters' horse shows and swim meets, my brothers' boat races, (it's amazing what you can afford when you're not paying city rent, eh?) but actually living in the cities, being seen at the right bars and restaurants and gala fundraisers.
Sometimes there'd be a stray photo of someone sort of fat and goofy (but famous or Brahmin or ludicrously wealthy), which would give me hope that maybe someday I too could be newsworthy enough... to get my picture snapped by some ambitious, gossippy columist working for a weekly.
Not my pond. Not anymore.
I'm aware of opportunities I had to jump in. Or not jump out, as it were, when I saw the various prices of social endurance, having to stay (in my case, become) thin, fashionable but conservative, find a balance where you speak your mind in such a way that those who are alienated are the ones who feel inappropriate, not you.
And, the more I ruminate, the more I realize that didn't matter. What alienated me was insecurity. I can be a freak as long as I don't burden them with that, the novelty that livens the gathering, someone not socially bound who can break the tension when others won't.
Insecurity alienates everyone.
So today's SA encourages you to look behind the official, glossy multi-page spread Charmed Lives. What prices have they paid, in time, money, individuality, freedom, self-esteem, friends? (Cws dismisses her favorite musicians as jerks not worth her time, do famous people lose opportunities with anyone but sycophants?) What's your price? No, really.
I don't have horses, although I can more afford the money than the time for riding lessons. I have access to a pool, but since I don't swim with my eyes open, I tend towards Lane Drift. I don't have boats. Since I spent more time actually sailing, it IS something I miss. With crew works discontinued, I may actually have to take a rowing class that puts me on/in the Charles, assuming all my immunizations are up to date, (other than smallpox, JB, which I know isn't).
I have fallen in with the casual Cambridge ways. I could've dressed up for yesterday's party, which didn't occur to me until I arrived. Nor did it occur to me that it was a potluck. (Hello, I am a heel. Not that this is news.) There was even Star Pie, coveted ever since Sunspiral posted photos.
After the whimsy of The Nostrils (today it's sunny, we could've gotten a better photo, argh), I introduced Avram and Sooz to Burdick's, and was rewarded with their mmmmms and aaahs.
I managed tostroke my artist ego update my egg pages, (starting here). Q's photos (from June) had better colors, but Avram's better resolution, and that is harder to compensate for in photoshop.
This life is pretty charmed. I mean, I'm not standing on top of the pyramid in sun God robes while naked people throw little pickles at me, but, well, I suppose that's merely because I'm being too picky about the invite list.
Sometimes there'd be a stray photo of someone sort of fat and goofy (but famous or Brahmin or ludicrously wealthy), which would give me hope that maybe someday I too could be newsworthy enough... to get my picture snapped by some ambitious, gossippy columist working for a weekly.
Not my pond. Not anymore.
I'm aware of opportunities I had to jump in. Or not jump out, as it were, when I saw the various prices of social endurance, having to stay (in my case, become) thin, fashionable but conservative, find a balance where you speak your mind in such a way that those who are alienated are the ones who feel inappropriate, not you.
And, the more I ruminate, the more I realize that didn't matter. What alienated me was insecurity. I can be a freak as long as I don't burden them with that, the novelty that livens the gathering, someone not socially bound who can break the tension when others won't.
Insecurity alienates everyone.
So today's SA encourages you to look behind the official, glossy multi-page spread Charmed Lives. What prices have they paid, in time, money, individuality, freedom, self-esteem, friends? (Cws dismisses her favorite musicians as jerks not worth her time, do famous people lose opportunities with anyone but sycophants?) What's your price? No, really.
I don't have horses, although I can more afford the money than the time for riding lessons. I have access to a pool, but since I don't swim with my eyes open, I tend towards Lane Drift. I don't have boats. Since I spent more time actually sailing, it IS something I miss. With crew works discontinued, I may actually have to take a rowing class that puts me on/in the Charles, assuming all my immunizations are up to date, (other than smallpox, JB, which I know isn't).
I have fallen in with the casual Cambridge ways. I could've dressed up for yesterday's party, which didn't occur to me until I arrived. Nor did it occur to me that it was a potluck. (Hello, I am a heel. Not that this is news.) There was even Star Pie, coveted ever since Sunspiral posted photos.
After the whimsy of The Nostrils (today it's sunny, we could've gotten a better photo, argh), I introduced Avram and Sooz to Burdick's, and was rewarded with their mmmmms and aaahs.
I managed to
This life is pretty charmed. I mean, I'm not standing on top of the pyramid in sun God robes while naked people throw little pickles at me, but, well, I suppose that's merely because I'm being too picky about the invite list.
