Journal Entries
Another tribute and various other things
Posted Nov 13, 2003
I'm probably the last person around here to have found this
http://ars.userfriendly.org/cartoons/?id=20010513&mode=classic
but I'm glad I did. It's rather nice. My son recommended the site, although he assures me most of the cartoons are too 
geeky for me to understand. And well, the other day, he found this cartoon and immediately sent me it.
Bruce Willis called off that concert by the way, so I could go to Berlin with a clear conscience.
And work is still eating me up and I'm getting more and more tired. This weekend I'm away with the choir and will have to leave early-ish on Friday (Tomorrow!!) to go with them. Still, I've packed this evening, and all is organised. The kids are all away over the weekend at various places too. I am soooo tired. I'm going to bed. 
Discuss this Journal entry [8]
Latest reply: Nov 13, 2003
Today
Posted Sep 4, 2003
Today I read that Bruce Willis is coming to Bonn to do a concert with his band. What I wouldn't give to go to that. Bonn's not that far away. But I will be - I'm in Berlin on that day. 
Today I got an e-mail that a posting of mine has been yikesed. It makes you feel soiled and defiled. I can't be bothered to find out why. Or who yikesed it. Forget it. I'll pull through it.
Today is my eldest son's girlfriend's birthday. I actually got off work on time to buy her a present. In fact leaving work before it gets dark was quite an achievement.
Discuss this Journal entry [5]
Latest reply: Sep 4, 2003
Store detectives
Posted Aug 30, 2003
While shopping today I was apprehended for the second time by the store detective. I was absolutely innocent, I hasten to add, but they're only doing their job. So if you can be bothered, here are the two stories.
The only shopping I ever do is on Saturdays for the family's food and maybe a little treat for myself. I spend around 200 euros each time and have done so at the same shop for a few years now.
Once when I was passing the barrier after the till, the sensors bleeped. The cashier and I went through and checked every likely item in my trolley and in the end we gave up, and she said that did happen sometimes and let me go.
The following week it bleeped again.
I looked, among other places, in my handbag and discovered a small packet of batteries which I then realised I had dropped into my bag instead of into the trolley the week before and that must have been what had set the bleeper off the previous week. I keep the batteries in my handbag because there is practically nowhere in the house I can put them that the kids won't get to them before I do. However, they should have been de-magnetised or whatever it is they do to them.
The cashier seemed to believe my story, but had to call the detective, which I quite understood. In the end the detective called the manager, who, in the light of my over-full trolley, let me off. It was still an experience which left me shaking for a bit.
So today I had another encounter with the store detectives. For several months now I have been carrying an empty make up compact in my handbag, trying to find a replacement for it. Today I looked, and found exactly what I wanted. On checking out, I had to wait ages because I had picked up a special offer "en passant" which failed to show up a price on the till. A girl went off to find the price and sort it out. After waiting ages and no girl came back, I went over to the information desk, where I continued to wait. While waiting I had time to notice a chappie standing around and even thought to myself "Why doesn't he go in and help his wife with the shopping instead of waiting out here behind the tills for her"
After standing at the information desk for a while, I noticed the item I had bought (it had been laying there all the time!) and told the lady that that was mine and paid for it and was ready to leave. The guy who'd been "loitering" then came up to me and presented his ID and asked me to come into the office with him and his colleague. I had no idea what they thought I'd done this time, and was quite happy to demonstrate the contents of my handbag to them.
It turned out that I'd been seen dropping my old compact into my bag after comparing it with the new one (which had been duly paid for) and they let me off. The one said, "my colleague owes you an apology" but I never got the apology.
Of course, while I had the attention of the entire security team, my friends had cleared the cosmetics, electronic and hard booze departments !! (no - only joking!!!)
As I say, they were only doing their job. But I wish they wouldn't pick on me - who spends nearly 1000 euros per month at their shop and never nicked anything in her life.
Well, except the odd loo roll from the office when I was a struggling single flat-sharing girl, working for a hundred pounds a month in a Dickensian solicitor's office.
Well, I'm glad I got that off me chest.. Oooh - what's this hidden in my bra? 
Discuss this Journal entry [10]
Latest reply: Aug 30, 2003
Child abuse
Posted Aug 20, 2003
Having spent a week at home in the summer holidays, I now realise what went wrong with my life. My father, now aged 83, succeeded in making me (48) feel like a three-year-old. In hindsight, I could finally see that the criticism that I was subjected to all those years, and which I had only even been aware of since leaving home, was far more severe than I had ever realised.
Little comments mounted up and would have me seething with rage by lunchtime. Years of humility and resignation made me swallow it - or retreat to my room. There would be absolutely no point in saying anything. He does not understand.
My sister has brought it out into the open in the past and had correspondence with him about it. He just does not understand.
Things that remain branded into my memory, he has completely forgotten - to me they were life-changing and spiritually devastating - he doesn't even remember the events!
Even a neighbour (52) who was round for a beer one evening while we were over commented and made fun of his "Let me do the washing up" "No - the teabags don't go there", hitting the nail absolutely on the head.
The praise and expressions of pride in us which he did express when we were young seem, in retrospect, hollow, stilted, calculated - their effect negligible compared to the innumerable little "Let me do that"'s and "No not like that". In other words, or as woudl be interpreted by a child or offspring (which I am) "you can't do that" "your way's not the right way". These were the messages that we were getting, demoralising me and pounding my self-esteem to a useless piece of waste. My sister had a bit more fight in her. She got all that side of him, while still being aware of these totally unreasonable niggles of his.
One of the earliest lessons I learnt when I had kids was that there are more than one "right way"s. I sincerely hope that my kids haven't had their self-esteem ruined by petty criticisms.
But genes do play such an important role. Ironically, I can see myself exactly mirrored in these comments that hurt me so much. Which is why I have made such an effort to avoid them in bringing up my own children. But the lesson I have learned is as old as the hills: it's not what you say, but how you say it.
Every time I see my parents I realise it could be the last time, at their age, but the bitterness is just getting stronger and stronger and I go home more and more reluctantly, and can't hold out for more than three days. My sister never stays overnight - one mealtime is enough. As she lives in the same country, she can do that.
Apart from her, generally it seems that males are less affected by this generally, which is probably why my three boys have been resilient to any latent criticism that must have escaped from me occasionally. My mother has lived with this for nearly 60 years. She told me to answer back when I was really ready to burst. I wonder if she ever has. The replies I have heard her make have either sparked off a completely irrational response from him or have been misunderstood or not heard.
He is now more than a little deaf, and will ALWAYS ask my mother "what did Horace say?" (honestly!) when I say something he doesn't quite catch. When they stayed here, when they were up to driving over, he would criticise my cooking to her, never to my face. This implication that I am not able to speak for myself - coupled with the fact that I am being completely ignored at the time, although I am actually the subject of the conversation and am in the room, too - well, how would you react?
Why didn't I see it at the time? After all these years, the extent of the damage only really dawned on me last week. Despite the fact that we were given a nice home and were cared for and treated well, I can't believe that I stood that kind of abuse for so long - was oblivious to it.
Sorry to ramble on about it here. My husband has no idea - he doesn't understand enough of the subtleties of English to realise how this all hurts. Well, and of course, he's a fella, impervious to criticism.
Perhaps I should discuss it with my children, though - they have the same genes, and I know that lots of my father's quirks have definitely been passed on to my second son - coincidentially, also his namesake. They are both called Patrick. I have found generally that everyone called Patrick is difficult, at least all the ones I know here in Germany are, but that is not an objective point of view!
Discuss this Journal entry [15]
Latest reply: Aug 20, 2003
I miss...
Posted Jul 17, 2003
Spiff, who may or may not turn up again, and
Smiley Ben. Where did he go, when and why? I met Ben at the summer meet 2002 and (I can say it now) thought he was the most beautiful person in the room. We had a few conversations when I was a subed.
Discuss this Journal entry [16]
Latest reply: Jul 17, 2003
You can call me TC
Researcher U154942
Write an Entry
"The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is a wholly remarkable book. It has been compiled and recompiled many times and under many different editorships. It contains contributions from countless numbers of travellers and researchers."