Thursday 5 January 2012

C'mon then . . . Smile

Bugger, I cant keep my eyes open.
Ok I finally gave up trying to post and turned my attention to the tv where the film Mamma Mia was starting. I've never seen it . . . If I've heard the phrase "It's a real feel good film" once then I've heard it a hundred times! I've been told by many people, including those who know me well and should know better . . . "Oh you'd love it. I know you don't watch films but you would love this". Well I didn't. It didn't make me feel good or happy.  . . And knowing that it was possibly making several million people happy at that moment with it's "feel good factor" just highlighted my oddness.
Believe me, I don't try to be different or not fit . . . In fact I spent far too many years trying to fit in. Eventually It became clear that it wasn't happening. Also I asked myself why would I want to force myself to become like so many people who quite frankly got on my nerves in a big way . . Surely I would end up getting on my own nerves and that wouldn't be good for my mental health. So I finally accepted that I wasn't gonna fit in. I would be a loner, a misfit, a weirdo and that was fine by me. Having got to this point I can now look back and laugh, cry and cringe about some of my attempts and mostly massive failures to fit in.
The earliest one I can remember was my first and almost last attempt at a fashion "fit in". I wasn't aware of "fashion" growing up. We wore hand-me-downs from the "church", had no access to any media, wore uniform in school and didn't talk much to anyone else in school because . . . well you know why.
However at the age of eleven I had reason to cut through a department store, noticed a "Miss Selfridge" section and immediately became obsessed by a pair of red dungarees . . . I know, well it was '74. Anyway I "knew" these were what I needed to "fit in" . . . O yes these would solve all my problems. Shit! they might even get me some friends. I didn't know how I would get them . .  But I knew I would.
It was not in my nature to want. It wasn't allowed. It had been drummed out of me.We could pray . . . and if it was God's will, then it would happen. O C'mon God, this has to be your will. I don't ever ask for anything. Ever. And you O lord of all people know how much I need these in my life . . . Don't you?
It was during the summer hols and I was at work with my Dad for the day. I'd cleared it with God, I just needed the money now. I mentioned them to Dad a few hundred times. He must've known they were special because I'd never asked for clothes before. Ever. He disappeared on "a delivery" in the afternoon. Thankyou God. I knew he had gone to buy them, I just couldn't understand why later that day at home he didn't have them with him. O well so great was my faith I didn't doubt it . . . I would wait. And sure enough later that evening a lady from our group of nutters that gathered at our house church walked down the drive with a "Miss Selfridges" bag . . . Maybe she'd picked them up? No. My Dad had picked them up and taken them to her to be "embellished". I pulled them out of the bag, falling upstairs to change into them, on they went, they felt great, fitted perfectly . . . I ran into the only room with a mirror to indulge in a rare, enjoyable but very short-lived moment of "vanity". Hold on . . . I don't recall a big yellow "smiley face" sewn on the front bib. O well smiley faces were "cool" at the time. It said "Smile" above the face and . . . O No . . . even though the words below the face were backwards in the reflection I could make them out all too well.  "Jesus loves you".  . . O God. Well what could I say? . . . I had prayed for them. I couldn't deny the fact he loved me. I just didn't want everyone else knowing. It appeared I wanted the whole world to know. Freak. I was not smiling. These dungarees were the answer to my prayers . . . and were supposed to make me "fit in".
This was maybe the first and last time that I prayed for "wordly goods" ;-) Lesson learnt. Unfortunately it wasn't the last time that I tried and failed big time to fit in.


13 comments:

  1. I hate Mamma Mia.

    And damn!

    P.S. I don't fit in either. I'm no black sheep. I'm neon lime green with purple polka dots. I don't baaa... I quack. So there.

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  2. Parents can be so unintentionally cruel. I often wonder what tortures I put my kids through.

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  3. I don't do films either. I read, but I don't do films. And yes, this makes me a bit of an oddball. Tough.
    And I am cringing deep in my intestines at the 'Jesus Loves Me' embellishment.

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  4. Have Myelin?
    YAY! . . YAY! . . . and thrice YAY! I like the sound of you.

    Jeannie,
    Yes I've probably done the same to mine just in a different way.
    I love your last post . . . I'm coming back to re-read in a minute as it was 3am when I read it.

    The Elephant's Child,
    I'm beginning to wonder if it's "blogging" that attracts oddballs like us . . . Or if very few people really feel like they "fit in".

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  5. trust me Penis Brosnans singing doens't make anyone "feel good"... feel sick yes

    Never pray for you to get something... normally there is a nasty twist if you do - this is a great story about that I must remember as an example

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  6. Oh, I"ve missed your blog! I hadn't realized its been so long since I've been over here. I loved this story, even though it was sad there was a bit of humor to it. As for fitting in - I'm so glad you are YOU. Oh, and I tried to watch that movie but hated it and turned it off halfway through. I can't stand anything romantic or silly and it was both (or trying to be I guess....) I like dark, twisted psychological thrillers but am not interested in the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo at all (not sure why)

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  7. Furtheron,
    O that's who it was . . I knew I'd seen him somewhere before. I recognised a lot of faces . . but what a load of tripe.

    Barbara,
    Hi I'm glad you enjoyed it. It's a good job most things are funny years later.
    I keep hearing that title about The girl with the Dragon Tattoo . . . I presume it's a new film, whether there's anything "new" about it remains to be seen. I'm a bit of a cynic when it comes to films. It's good you've had chance to catch up on some blogs (at work ;-) Take care.

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  8. Hey Bugerlugs, Thanks for stopping by. I used to have very long hair, but cut it to a shorter length years ago.

    I get what you wrote here. I don't think that I have ever felt like I fit in--I remember realizing that full on in second grade. I still have a bit of that feeling but mostly I accept who I am now and fit in with the few members of the "tribe" that are my closest friends. Trying to fit in with a mass of people is impossible.

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  9. Oh, dear Lord! (no pun intended!) You poor thing. I can sort of relate. My mother used to spend oodles of $$$ on what she thought were the most fashion forward outfits for me. Plaid and leopard prints, which no one else appreciated - including me! I just wanted some normal jeans and sweatshirts so I could actually fit in with the other kids I went to school with. She had other ideas. Oh, the memories. I don't even want to recall them! I really love your blog. Thank you for following mine too. I've always felt like I don't fit in anywhere and I only just finally stopped trying. It's nice to grow up and just be yourself, eh. Here's to that! I will definetely be back to keep up with your space here. I like the honest blogs best. The happy, shiny, perfects can be inspiring but that's just not my world. Happy New Year to you and hope 2012 is a good one.

    ~ jenn :)

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  10. Syd,
    That's ok . . I've been reading your blog for almost a year. It's one of the first few I noticed over at Gledwood's. Your comments there show you care about him.
    I used to live on a boat, although it was only on the canal, I can relate to the peace you feel on the water. Sunrise was the best in every season on the water.
    I almost fitted in with the canal folk . . . but not quite ;-)

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  11. Jenn June,
    I'm beginning to think this "fitting-in" is a myth as I've not heard anyone say they do fit in yet . . . I will make it my mission to find a fitter-inner ;-)
    I didn't notice your mistake today . . . I went back and looked. I started getting a tad obsessed about finding it or, presuming you'd fixed it, guessing what it could've been . . . until I said "Ok that's enough". I've banned myself from going back there . . . only until you post again of course.

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  12. My mom used to sew us the same exact dresses when I was in grade school - soooo embarrassing!!! What was she thinking?? I'm sorry you went through that!

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  13. L,
    Yes me too . . I found a photo the other day of me and Sis in matching dresses. I must get my scanner out for some laughs. At least we can laugh years later ;-)

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