Alone Is Too Lonely.

Children know nothing

Which we all know, but the extent always amazes me. The other day on the bus a kid asked his dad? "What is that?" IT WAS THE BUTTON, the literal stop button, and he had no idea what it was. How can you not know that? How can anyone not know that?

I hear my neighboor getting home with her 1yo and she tells her "Where are we? We're home!". Unbeliebable. That kid didn't know where her home was. Hell, she probably didn't even know what a home was or that she had one.

And it gets worse, at some point in my life, back in those ancient times before facebook, I didn't know that stuff. I didn't know what a bus or a home or a mum or a me was. I probably didn't even know what being something was. I can't even begin to comprehend the extent of things I didn't know.

Ah.

Happy 16th Anniversary The Simpsons Movie!

Parents are always complaining about their children grow up too fast, as a critique. As if you were doing it to annoy them.

But they're also doing it. They grow old too fast.

My current hobby is imagining myself acting in socially inapropiate ways, imagining people reacting accordingly, and then getting sad because they're being mean to me in my imagination.

Guys my mom has a 60 years old asexual friend. But they didn't know the word asexual so the just called her AMOEBA I'm dying

worms

Something I've noticed is that women want to see each other suffer under patriarchy. I'm the youngest by far at a very small office (20 years younger than the next younguer woman, 6 women in total), also the oly unmarried/ and sometimes, as they complain about their husbands not helping them, their kids playing videogames all night instead of homework, schools demanding their time as if they had no other obligations (seriously, why is the Independence Day school act at 11 AM?), having to make dinner night after night without any help from their husbands or sons (they don't have daughters so IDK if they would make them help), all without any semblance of thanks or apreciation for their tireless mothering.

And sometimes, between chatting and complaining about their families, they make an aside, and they look at me. And say "It will happen to you".

"I came home at 10 pm after work and my second job to find my husband hadn't made dinner, bathed the children or even stopped playing online for 5 minutes, and it will happen to you".

"Whenever he stubbed his toe, he acted as if he was dying and I had to care for him, and it will happen to you."

"I get up a 7AM saturdays and sundays to take them to rugby matches while he sleeps in, and it will happen to you".

They say it with relish too, as if they wanted me to suffer that way. As if it made their woes more bearable to know that it's something that they coud've never escaped, something fundamentally inherent to womanhood.