Geezers Need Excitement

So, the other day, this article caught my attention on the CBC homepage. I suggest checking it out, but for those of you too lazy to, I understand. I will summerize because its a key piece of information for my intended rant. It's essentially about this new age of hipster parents who still dress, behave and consume as though they were still in their 20s, they're just doing it with bigger paycheques. They're getting married and having kids and are just totally wallowing in how ironic it is that they have kids. This article in particular goes on about alternative parenting websites that are pretty much dedicated to have stupid kids are and stuff.

I mean, before you're all like "but Mel, I thought YOU didn't like kids either?" allow me to clarify. Kids are fine, I wish them no harm. I've never been around many kids except for in the instances that I'm going to outline below, and that folks, is why I am skeptical of kids... but after reading the CBC article as well as this article I think I am finally realizing some things.

I guess what this sort of stems from is the presence of kids in places where they just shouldn't be. The second article I linked mentions a "mommy and me" happy hour at some New York bar. Seriously? Fuck off. I mean really.

My big beef though, and the thing that I've had the most experience with is kids at coffee shops like starbucks and the like. One of my all time favourite ways to spend a Saturday morning is to get a copy of the Saturday Globe and Mail and a grande non-fat vanilla late and sit in Starbucks and read the paper. It's an excellent way to start the day. The Saturday G and M has the style and travel sections as well as cartoons and coffee is delicious at any time of the day. But what stops me from doing this every Saturday morning is knowing that while enjoying my coffee and newspaper there will be a proliferation of snot nosed children screaming and running around while their yuppy parents talk about yuppy parent things.

There is nothing more obnoxious in this world than parents who take their children somewhere and then because they are confined within a set space think that there is no need to pay attention to them and discipline them. It's the same thing as working in a restaurant in the summer time. Inevitably there are those parents who just let their kids run wild in the restaurant for people to trip over and get annoyed with.

And so I always wondered who these people were... and now I know thanks to these two articles.

The NY Magazing article talks about this recent trend in "grups" as a statement of cultural reclaiming. Gen Xers are refusing to grow up in a statement of rebellion against their parents. Who wouldn't want to never "grow up"? Or who wouldn't want to grow up just enough to have lots of money and be able to buy expensive things will still being able to dress and act like a 21 ear old? Fucking sign me up. But wait...

I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that most 20 year olds don't still play with lego or barbies everyday and colour and play outside. Who wouldn't want to escape the responsibilities of paying bills, going to work and going to school for a slice of childhood carefree living? I know that I would trade all the daily troubles and responsibilities of my life for a step back into to carefree living if I could. But the fact is, we grew up. It's what happens. As you get older you're supposed to leave behind certain things and find joy and fulfullment in others.

It's just a very interesting subset of people emerging. Who hasn't thought that they would like to be the "cool" mom or dad. I know I sure have. Nobody wants to be the strict, obnoxious, over-protective parent. These people are just taking it a step further. What are their kids going to be like?

The future is not in good hands.

we scratch our eternal itch, a twentieth centruy bitch

So....

My calm feeling and happiness with this semester at school lasted for a shorter time than I had predicted. I am officially no longer graduating in May.

I'm only taking 3 classes this semester and then I will hopefully pick up the other 2 credits I need in the early summer session.

Also, I'm no longer going to have a double major in English. I hate English. And if I didn't speak it, I would never want to have anything to do with it whatsoever anymore.

Essentially, my emphasis on history over english for the past 3 and a half years ended up putting me in an extreme disadvantage when it came down to fourth year seminars. It's not often that I feel stupid for extended periods of time when reading things or discussing things in class. Obviously, this is not a feeling that I enjoy as I know that I'm not stupid. Annnyway to make a big long sob story short, I just don't have the background reading and interprative skills to deal with being in an intense english setting.

Also, my intense urge to scream things like, "are you fucking kidding me?" and "fuck off, it doesn't have a hidden meaning" and the likes alerted me to the fact that I would much rather just read books for the sake of enjoying reading rather than have to deconstruct everything to the point of absurdity.

I'm pretty sure queer theory didn't exist in the 18th century, and I'm pretty sure neither did feminst discourse. Fuck off. It's a story. Not an allegory for the modern condition of life etc etc.

Phew.

Anyway... the support of this decision has been pretty clutch and I no longer feel like I have a bag of rocks on my shoulders at all times. I actually felt 100lbs lighter when I web dropped my classes.

In short, this is a good thing. A minor setback, but a good thing.

My university time has been anything but a smooth ride, so why should my final year be any different?

And so, in celebration (i guess?) of my new found freedom from the chains of a thousand stupid words in 20 stupid books I went on a bender this weekend and had a really great time.

I started Wednesday and finished on Saturday and I had a really fucking good time.

Me and Kate bought tickets for the Canadian figure skating championships this weekend, so from Thursday-Saturday I spent aprox. 7 hours a day in an arena watching skating and drinking beer.

Thursday night we discovered that it was possible to watch skating, and drink reasonably priced draft all at the same time and so by the time we left the Metre Centre to go for a late dinner we were pretty intoxicated, although that lack of ability for clear judgement caused us much agony, I believe everything will be all right in the end.

Friday was more skating, and then getting all fancied up and attending a James Bond themed party where we got kicked out in the most intense fashion I have ever experienced. I'm talking more intense then in high school when the cops would crash a party and come into the house looking for underage drinkers. Annnyway... long story short, it turned into a really good night, of which I only have a vague and somewhat disjointed recollection of.

Saturday sucked. I don't remember the last time I was that hung over, and I actually had the shakes until I managed to consume a Caeser.. then I felt better....

Anyway wicked weekend... I am super looking forward to school now. 3 history classes, class 2 days a week... Rock on.

Then magnificenty we will float into the mystic

When I graduate univeristy I am going to write a letter to the fine folks who make Fruit Loops and tell them how their cereal has fed me for 4 years and no doubt contributed to my successes.

The end is in sight, and despite my near temper tantrum actions I don't think this semester is going to be as bad as I had built it up to be.

Of coure, ask me again in a month when all my first assignments are due and I am over worked and over tired.

I'm taking an entire class on Victorian exhibitions in Canada, and I'm going to write a long winded and creepy essay on Victorian era freakshows.
I also am making my first step towards becoming a real academic by presenting a paper at an academic conference that I was invited to partake in. I really hope I like it, because if not my already shakey life plans will once again be ruined; or altered at the very least.

Life is good I think. I'm feeling pretty content, but also teetering on the edge of minor freakouts at pretty much the drop of a hat. I'm pretty anxious about what April will bring, but more so than that I am terrified about August. I mostly just don't want to move my life across a great distance again. All of my stuff fits perfectly inside this apartment that I miss more than I can describe when I am not here. This place is home more than any other place I've been in recent memory. I did a small dance when I got back here after Christmas vaca. True story.

I also like this city, despite the fact that it rains pretty much every day. It occured to me yesterday during the monsoon that was going on that it should have been a massive grind-the-city-to-a-halt snow storm, but instead I just got kind of soaked and cranky.

I also realize that come september, most of the people who make my life so amazing will be leaving to see what else is out there and that staying around might invole the same feeling as being at a party well after its reached its peak. You know, that awkward ahh shit I should have left an hour ago feeling but now I feel obligated to stay kind of feeling.

I guess I have a lot of decisions to make, but I also keep telling myself to stop thinking about it and stop keeping myself up at night because these aren't the kind of things that I can solve in the immediate future. This is most definately a wait it out and see type of situation, which drives me nuts because as much as I like the chaos and spontanity that usually defines my life, I also like to have the answers. I like to know whats going on in the big picture even though I like, and thrive on, the confusion of the moment.

Despite my previous ode to Fruit Loops, I've actually been doing a fairly good job of sticking to my New Years resolution of eating better thus far. Which is cool, because some of my previous resolutions have lasted all of a day (if that even).

And that about sums that up.