Girl Scouts
Big Sis and I went to a Girl Scout orientation last night. My unstable childhood and sons-only first parenting career have kept me pretty ignorant of socially distant from this faction of U.S. culture. Given how many female perpetrators there are in my trauma herstory, it is possible that I am even phobically distant. I feel war-painted females as far more frightening than the most macho of males. At least macho males fight by rules that make sense to me. All that paint and glitter give macho females entirely too many places to hide dirty tricks.
Big Sis is as girlie as girls get. She was three when she came to me, directly from the hyper-feminine aunts who powder and fluff their morbidly obese bodies to extreme degrees while dreaming, in between divorces, of their birthrights of being whisked away by the perfect knights in shining armour. Fortify that stereotype with convenient shades of women's lib and? ? ? Who is the predator here?
I haven't discouraged Big Sis's hyper feminism, but I have yet to gain comfort with it, either. My most instinctive reaction is to beat the glitter and fluff out of her as viciously as I attempted to beat the fluff and glitter out of Pimp Sis and her like. Emphasis on, "Attempted." Ya can't beat predatorial instincts out of any predator of either gender. A lion remains a lion, regardless of what circus tricks and costumes it is beaten and/or trained for.
I used my reluctance to open the data connections on my cell phone as an excuse to drift away from the recruiting drive last night as the parents all bowed their heads over the cell lit portion of the meeting. **IF** I decide to go for yet another romp in The Cloud in order to participate, I will set it up on this machine where no one is around to trigger or hear my opinion of Cloudy Its. Which clouded server am I arguing with THIS time? All those drops in The Cloud still have physical masters and I virtually hate not knowing who I am actually dealng with. At least the warpainted madams of the kiddie whorehouses were recognizible beneath their old-fashioned war paint and costumes. The anonymous Janes seldom, if ever, disguised themselves. What I saw was what I got, but they were only traumas passing in the night. They were *Just* Janes. I never knew any of them by name. They didn't seem too different from the Johns. A client is a client, regardless of gender.
At present I am scribbling here rather than opening that GS account.
Sorting. . . Processing. . .
Today I leave the mood icon squarely on "Okay." It's a mucky morass, but methinks I am holding steady.
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Addendum
I seem to have misplaced the GS handouts which held the notes to last night's specifics. I am reasonably certain that I can find those specifics online. I am equally uncertain I care enough to do the research. I am psychopating hard enough that self-sabotage is likely. Virtual self-sabotage is even easier than Real Time self-sabotage. I like to have my digital focus clear before I attempt to navigate The Cloudy Its.
As I psychopated my way through the search for the missing handouts, I had a flashback to my Life Niece's bestest HS buddy. Yes, the same girl who grew up to be my son's wife. During one of their pajama parties at my house, that bestest buddy spoke of being recruited for an all-girl football team. Don't ask me to tell one football position from another, but I could easily believe that her sure footed stance and formidable size made her a shoe-in for a linebacker position. My Life Niece and I were quite enthusiastic about encouraging her to seize the opportunity. She didn't and dissociated when asked.
Riding this same set of psychic fissures, I found exhausted at the thought of adding such a distant responsibility to our already full plates. We can pretty much count on conflict between the GS agenda and Big Bro's sports agenda. Might it make more sense to focus our energies within a single network? Are softball and baseball a single network? How early does the gender segregation begin? In the elementary stages, girls are often bigger than boys. The logic for separate leagues still eludes me, but I can't tell a softball from a baseball, either and have not cared enough to retain the data when I have researched it.
Still sorting. . .
Should I check to see if the Dance Academy has decoronified yet? That crowd felt masked and socially distant to me before Corona. My social anxiety tells me they have made literal masks and increased social distances high fashion by now. Yes, Madam. I'll wear whatever you dictate. Should I do the research to test the theory? Big Sis really is a dancer by nature. I suspect many linebackers are, too. Just a suspicion. . .