You Talking To Me?

If we've never spoken (voice to voice), there's something you should know about me. I was raised by Northerners. I was raised the Northern way. I speak my mind and give my opinion when asked (I try to wait until I'm asked. I don't pussy foot around. You'd love me if I had good news and loathe me if it was bad. I can appreciate the delicate dance others do in conversation; I simply find it hard to follow the steps. The romantic hypochondriac in me wonders if it's possible to have mild Aspergers. Mild sociopathy maybe?

I don't like looking strangers in the eye (apparently makes me rude). I don't always look my friends in the eye! I like to touch things all the time- I'm a very tactile person (unless I don't know you- stranger danger!). If we're talking and I'm playing with my sleeve or folding a napkin or scrolling the mouse on my computer or reaching over to tap an object, I'm not trying to be rude. I have to! I squint when I'm thinking, when I'm listening, when I can't believe what you're saying, when I can't see you. I wear contacts, people! Sometimes I loose focus. I'm not really squinting at you.

It isn't that I don't care... Okay, it is sometimes; it's that I don't know any better. I'm unaware of what I'm doing or how I'm speaking. I'm a proud (first generation) Texan, but the South doesn't always know what to do with me. I'm a Yankee at heart. I am not trying to hurt your feelings. I always say, "You'll know when I'm being mean to you", but maybe you wouldn't. Maybe you see me as rude. Maybe you don't like me. Maybe you wish I would "lighten up", "chill out", or "calm down". I assure you now; I am all those things already. This is just how I talk.

If I want to hurt you or be rude I don't do it with tone, I do it with words. I say, "Gosh, you're rude" or "Quit being an asshole, Asshole"! I've been called a bitch before, but it's usually because I said I didn't like you or maybe I told you a hard truth. My friends enjoy and have come to depend on my reliability to speak my mind and call out bullshit. They try to egg me on just to see what I'll do. For the record, that rarely works.

I don't know how to fix this about myself. Truth be told I'm not sure I would want to. It's an important part of me. However, recently it has been causing problems. My name tag at work used to include a conversation starter- your hometown. Being as I'm from Dallas and work in Dallas I thought that would be boring. So instead, I put "Milford, PA" (where I go every summer). I never had a problem with my speech pattern when those I was talking to thought I was from the Northeast. It certainly helps that I don't sound particularly Southern (unless I'm talking to those that do). I'm a linguistic chameleon. I say "soda" and "Oo ja?" (oh yea?) and "advert-is-mint". I don't pose statements as questions.

So, just give me a break. You'll know when I'm being mean to you.

I Always Wanted a White Horse Named Tir na nOg

A quick one today as I left this to the last minute and only have 10 to spare before I leave work. Certain thoughts keep popping into my head randomly. No, not just the "burn them, burn them all" evil leprechaun, or "did I turn on the living room light? Am I DVR-ing "Lie to Me"? It's the kind of things one fantasizes about or thinks about regularly. Is there a god? If so, does he hate me? Do you ever really know a person? Or my favorite in which I reenact a fictional interview with some magazine like Interview.

I am often amazed at how little people know about themselves and where they come from. Certainly there are exceptions to being naive, adoption being one, but what's the excuse for everyone else? How can you NOT be interested in who your family is, where they came from, were any of them famous? I grew up in a household where history and superstition ruled. I learned all about my father's people (Irish and Prussian) and gradually about my mother's (Welsh) as she became more interested and informed herself. I remember thinking how cool it was that I'm one quarter a place that doesn't really exist anymore. Prussia. Prussian. "How very Prussian of them." Other than that, the best stories came from Ireland- the mythology, the clans, the IRA. I always felt very Irish (my full name is incredibly Irish so that helps), as does the strong bond I feel with my father who identifies strongly as Irish as well though he speaks no Gaelic, but does speak German, Polish, and Russian. Funny.

My sister, if you were to ask her, would identify very Welsh (which makes sense as she is strongly linked with our mother). This explains why she has the Welsh dragon tattoo and I have a celtic knot. It took us forever to come up with a tattoo to get together (we settled on "sister" in hieroglyphics- another dedication to our Dad).

I am fascinated with learning more. I want to know everything. When I meet people and say something like, "Wow, that's an interesting last name. What is it?"; and they have no idea. I feel very sad for them. It must be horrible to have no understanding of where you come from or your culture. To see yourself purely as American, nothing else. The beauty of this country is in the mixed heritage of our citizens. If we don't know (or care to know) about ourselves, how can we expect to be tolerant and know others?