Emma Woodhouse said, "I felt listless, and had a bit of a headache when he left, so I must be in love."
Boy, listless. I keep starting to do something productive, but then I don't finish because I start daydreaming again. Have I got it bad? ha. Is it obvious or what? Why do I feel lonely when surrounded by people almost 24/7? Why do I look forward to things solely for the fact that I hope someone special is going to be there? Aren't my friends more important? Don't they pay more attention to me anyway? Why can't I escape you when you're as far from me as possible for so long? You're everywhere!
And when you are here, I can't show the least bit of feeling, or you'll leave me alone again. What can I do so I'm not so afraid of losing you?
Shame on me, for wanting you
Maybe if I was beautiful, or more refined, or...just better. The only time I have low self-esteem is when I think of you not thinking of me. And you're not even here to convince me I'm wonderful anymore. Why isn't the irony in this whole situation as funny as it should be? Or maybe it's just time for some bitter laughter. Ready, ha ha
Ha
Friday, December 30, 2005
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Emma...Mr. Knightly!
I just cannot get over it! Emma! Mr. Knightly! Jane Fairfax! Frank Churchhill! How does Jane Austen do it?! How does she make me agree with Emma, and fall in love with Frank Churchhill, and then Mr. Knightly, and blind me to everything, and then reveal it, making me wonder the whole time why I didn't pay attention to the signs? The book is so much better than the movie (because she doens't use the corny lines that they do) but the movie is SO good. I loved them both. And now I wish I had a Mr. Knightly of my own. Oh, Knightly...so good, her best friend for so many years...and he's loved her since she was 13! *sigh* and he waits for 8 years, not trying to press himself on her, not trying to be anything more than a guide, and a friend. Yet...he could have flirted a few times so she would have finally realized how much she loves him in return. How can you not fall in love with someone like that? So gentle, and honest, upright, compassionate, and who is absolutely in love with you! I want to cry, it's so...beautiful...
"Maybe it's our imperfections that make us so perfect for one another"
"Mr. Knightley, if I have not spoken, it is because I am afraid I will awaken myself from this dream.
"Not one in a hundred men have "gentleman" so plainly written across them as Mr. Knightley!"
"Maybe it's our imperfections that make us so perfect for one another"
"Mr. Knightley, if I have not spoken, it is because I am afraid I will awaken myself from this dream.
"Not one in a hundred men have "gentleman" so plainly written across them as Mr. Knightley!"
Friday, December 23, 2005
Analyzing Wicked
Musicals! Starting with opera, which were almost entirely for the rich (and often very boring). Then came operettas, which were almost entirely comical. Music halls, minstrel shows, vaudeville, and burlesque came and went. Then came the dawning of the greatest form of theater put on stage: the musical. Gilbert and Sullivan brought musicals into the limelight, and there they stayed. Broadway came into the picture, making New York an even more desirable vacation spot. The country gave their love to No No Nanette, Oklahoma, The King and I, The Sound of Music, and many others in their turn. Westside Story, Rent, and others brought the cities onto the stage. After all these faded into the recent history, and left the stage open once again, another new musical came under the hot stage lights. Enter stage right: Wicked.
Wicked is the story of the two witches in the Wizard of Oz. The play opens with the death of the Wicked Witch of the west, and then moves into a flashback of college, when the Wicked Witch (then named Elphaba) and Glinda the Good Witch (then called Galinda) were roommates. The second act is set at the time when Wizard of Oz takes place, but shows what you don't see in the movie.
Through the play, the audience watches Elphaba change. From the beginning, we think we know what is going to happen. She's going to turn wicked because of a hard life. However, through the first act, we only see her grow in integrity and moral strength. Inversely, the people of Oz become more self-centered and prejudiced. This change is brought out even in the music. The harmonies of the people of Oz continue to get more dissonant and sinister, while Elphaba's, if anything, becomes more beautiful. By setting these unexpected changes side by side, the writers question the previously set rules of right and wrong. Are we really the ones being good? Or are we wrong? They stand up for the wicked witch, not only for pity, but in what we see that she stands for.
The biggest part of the witch's integrity is her ability to stand up against the facades of Oz, and against the peer pressure, and what they think is right. She knows what is right, and she does not back down. When the wizard gives her a chance to be acclaimed, and finally accepted, she turns his offer down. The wizard is corrupt, and Elphaba knows it. He turns the entire world against her, but she doesn't back down. This theme, don't back give up your standards for peer pressure, is gloriously emphasized by the finale of the first act: Defying Gravity. She defies the common rules, and by doing that, learns to fly. Everyone else is bogged down with the lies and false pretenses of the wizard. She sings,
"And if I'm flying solo, at least I'm flying free...no one in the land of Oz, no wizard that there is or was, is ever going to bring me down!" (and then the people sing "we have to bring her down")
Glinda is used as a foil to the witch. She only wants to be popular. In pursuit of this goal, she gives up her standards, as well as her friend, and eventually fiancee, because they won't give in to the wickedness of the wizard. Glinda, in the beginning, sings that
"goodness knows the wicked's lives are lonely, goodness knows they die alone."
In the end, Glinda is realizing that she was the wicked one, and that because of her wickedness she is more alone, even with all her popularity, than the "wicked witch" ever was.
Another motif throughout the play is that of friendship. Glinda becomes Elphaba's friend, and throughout the story, their friendship continues, despite their varied paths. Elphaba forgives Glinda for working for the wizard, and understands her obsession with popularity. Glinda even starts to understand why Elphaba did the things she did. In the end, just before the melting of the witch, they sing
"who can say if I've been changed for the better? But because I knew you, I have been changed for good."
Their friendship, and wish for eachother's happiness is heart-melting. Glinda tries to protect the witch as much as possible, even though she stilll keeps up appearances. In the end, however, when the witch has been melted, Glinda now realizes what's wrong with the the wonderful wizard of Oz, and what was right with the wicked witch of the west.
Wicked is my favorite Broadway musical ever, and I listen to the CD a lot. It makes you think, and breaks barriers in your childhood conception of the witch, and makes you wonder about the misconceptions you may have made about people in your own life. With its sinister foreshadowing, puns, morals, and GREAT music, Wicked is up there with the best of them.
Wicked is the story of the two witches in the Wizard of Oz. The play opens with the death of the Wicked Witch of the west, and then moves into a flashback of college, when the Wicked Witch (then named Elphaba) and Glinda the Good Witch (then called Galinda) were roommates. The second act is set at the time when Wizard of Oz takes place, but shows what you don't see in the movie.
Through the play, the audience watches Elphaba change. From the beginning, we think we know what is going to happen. She's going to turn wicked because of a hard life. However, through the first act, we only see her grow in integrity and moral strength. Inversely, the people of Oz become more self-centered and prejudiced. This change is brought out even in the music. The harmonies of the people of Oz continue to get more dissonant and sinister, while Elphaba's, if anything, becomes more beautiful. By setting these unexpected changes side by side, the writers question the previously set rules of right and wrong. Are we really the ones being good? Or are we wrong? They stand up for the wicked witch, not only for pity, but in what we see that she stands for.
The biggest part of the witch's integrity is her ability to stand up against the facades of Oz, and against the peer pressure, and what they think is right. She knows what is right, and she does not back down. When the wizard gives her a chance to be acclaimed, and finally accepted, she turns his offer down. The wizard is corrupt, and Elphaba knows it. He turns the entire world against her, but she doesn't back down. This theme, don't back give up your standards for peer pressure, is gloriously emphasized by the finale of the first act: Defying Gravity. She defies the common rules, and by doing that, learns to fly. Everyone else is bogged down with the lies and false pretenses of the wizard. She sings,
"And if I'm flying solo, at least I'm flying free...no one in the land of Oz, no wizard that there is or was, is ever going to bring me down!" (and then the people sing "we have to bring her down")
Glinda is used as a foil to the witch. She only wants to be popular. In pursuit of this goal, she gives up her standards, as well as her friend, and eventually fiancee, because they won't give in to the wickedness of the wizard. Glinda, in the beginning, sings that
"goodness knows the wicked's lives are lonely, goodness knows they die alone."
In the end, Glinda is realizing that she was the wicked one, and that because of her wickedness she is more alone, even with all her popularity, than the "wicked witch" ever was.
Another motif throughout the play is that of friendship. Glinda becomes Elphaba's friend, and throughout the story, their friendship continues, despite their varied paths. Elphaba forgives Glinda for working for the wizard, and understands her obsession with popularity. Glinda even starts to understand why Elphaba did the things she did. In the end, just before the melting of the witch, they sing
"who can say if I've been changed for the better? But because I knew you, I have been changed for good."
Their friendship, and wish for eachother's happiness is heart-melting. Glinda tries to protect the witch as much as possible, even though she stilll keeps up appearances. In the end, however, when the witch has been melted, Glinda now realizes what's wrong with the the wonderful wizard of Oz, and what was right with the wicked witch of the west.
Wicked is my favorite Broadway musical ever, and I listen to the CD a lot. It makes you think, and breaks barriers in your childhood conception of the witch, and makes you wonder about the misconceptions you may have made about people in your own life. With its sinister foreshadowing, puns, morals, and GREAT music, Wicked is up there with the best of them.
Thursday, December 22, 2005
The story of my life
Hands touch, eyes meet,
Sudden silence, sudden heat,
Hearts leap in a giddy whirl,
He could be that boy,
But I'm not that girl.
Don't dream too far;
Don't lose sight of who you are.
Don't remember that rush of joy,
He could be that boy,
But I'm not that girl.
Ev'ry so often we long to steal
To the land of what might have been
But that doesn't soften the ache we feel
When reality sets back in...
Blithe smile, lithe limb;
She is winsome, she wins him.
Gold hair with a gentle curl...
That the girl he chose,
And, heaven knows,
I'm not that girl.
Don't wish, don't start,
Wishing only wounds the heart.
I wasn't born for the rose and the pearl.
There's a girl I know
He loves her so...
I'm not that girl
Sudden silence, sudden heat,
Hearts leap in a giddy whirl,
He could be that boy,
But I'm not that girl.
Don't dream too far;
Don't lose sight of who you are.
Don't remember that rush of joy,
He could be that boy,
But I'm not that girl.
Ev'ry so often we long to steal
To the land of what might have been
But that doesn't soften the ache we feel
When reality sets back in...
Blithe smile, lithe limb;
She is winsome, she wins him.
Gold hair with a gentle curl...
That the girl he chose,
And, heaven knows,
I'm not that girl.
Don't wish, don't start,
Wishing only wounds the heart.
I wasn't born for the rose and the pearl.
There's a girl I know
He loves her so...
I'm not that girl
Monday, December 19, 2005
Almost Real
Through a one-way mirror
And out the two-way door,
Wishes go unanswered,
Yet there are always more.
Through the visions of happiness
Clouded by doubt and time
Yearnings go unrealized;
Half of them are mine.
Across the years the other half
Come speeding to my heart.
Is there never a place to meet?
Never a time to start?
-Eliza Woodhouse
And out the two-way door,
Wishes go unanswered,
Yet there are always more.
Through the visions of happiness
Clouded by doubt and time
Yearnings go unrealized;
Half of them are mine.
Across the years the other half
Come speeding to my heart.
Is there never a place to meet?
Never a time to start?
-Eliza Woodhouse
*another sigh* Finding out I lost you
Finding someone
Who'll find me when I'm lost
Who'll lift me on their shoulders
No matter what the cost
And e'en if I search throughout all my years
And work very hard not to give way to tears
All rhyme and reason will crumble in fears
All because I lost you...
Finding out I lost you
-Eliza Woodhouse
Who'll find me when I'm lost
Who'll lift me on their shoulders
No matter what the cost
And e'en if I search throughout all my years
And work very hard not to give way to tears
All rhyme and reason will crumble in fears
All because I lost you...
Finding out I lost you
-Eliza Woodhouse
An Analysis of Fathers, and the Need Thereof
Today I had an experience that really made me think about my relationship with my father, and a few things came to mind, including a few reasons why everyone needs a daddy.
In my family, my father is a bit indecisive, and he really just wants to please everyone, and so my mom sometimes forgets that he has an opinion. Still, she respects the fact that his is the last word (even though he usually just agrees with her). If no one was a leader, nothing would get done. My dad often takes the initiative upon himself, and gets things done without delegating any responsibility. Usually, though, the children see my mother delegating jobs and such. Nevertheless, I know that my parents talk things over before my mom takes the decisions to us.
No matter how much we say that money isn’t the only thing in life, it is something vital to a stable existence in this world. Every family needs someone to provide. Sometimes someone other than the father must take on that responsibility, but I think that when it is possible, it is best to have the father take this role. I could go off on a huge tangent on why I believe this is usually the best plan, (and it wouldn’t be entirely politically correct, but I really couldn’t care less) but that belongs to an entire analysis of itself. My dad works harder than anyone I have ever known. He works all day, and into the night, sometimes not sleeping for a few days at a time. Yet he still takes time to spend with us when it’s important, and when we need him, or even at times when we would just appreciate his company, he’s there. I don’t know how he does it.
Now I come to the reason that was most important to me tonight. Every child needs someone to rescue them. Everyone always talks about how women can be just as strong as men, and shouldn’t be considered as weak people who need someone to rescue them, but I appreciate the protection and rescue I receive from my daddy. I’m ok walking in freezing cold weather (even if I complain); I’m ok with pain in general, and often will bleed profusely and not know it until I feel it dripping down my leg (and I’ll still try to score the point) but I feel so much safer knowing my daddy can come and save me if I need help (like he’s done twice in the past 3 days) It’s pretty awesome.
I love my dad, and can’t imagine a life without him. I would have a wish that everyone could have a father figure in their life, whether it’s their biological father, a foster father, or a really good family friend, uncle, neighbor, or something. It’s very important to have that influence on one’s life.
In my family, my father is a bit indecisive, and he really just wants to please everyone, and so my mom sometimes forgets that he has an opinion. Still, she respects the fact that his is the last word (even though he usually just agrees with her). If no one was a leader, nothing would get done. My dad often takes the initiative upon himself, and gets things done without delegating any responsibility. Usually, though, the children see my mother delegating jobs and such. Nevertheless, I know that my parents talk things over before my mom takes the decisions to us.
No matter how much we say that money isn’t the only thing in life, it is something vital to a stable existence in this world. Every family needs someone to provide. Sometimes someone other than the father must take on that responsibility, but I think that when it is possible, it is best to have the father take this role. I could go off on a huge tangent on why I believe this is usually the best plan, (and it wouldn’t be entirely politically correct, but I really couldn’t care less) but that belongs to an entire analysis of itself. My dad works harder than anyone I have ever known. He works all day, and into the night, sometimes not sleeping for a few days at a time. Yet he still takes time to spend with us when it’s important, and when we need him, or even at times when we would just appreciate his company, he’s there. I don’t know how he does it.
Now I come to the reason that was most important to me tonight. Every child needs someone to rescue them. Everyone always talks about how women can be just as strong as men, and shouldn’t be considered as weak people who need someone to rescue them, but I appreciate the protection and rescue I receive from my daddy. I’m ok walking in freezing cold weather (even if I complain); I’m ok with pain in general, and often will bleed profusely and not know it until I feel it dripping down my leg (and I’ll still try to score the point) but I feel so much safer knowing my daddy can come and save me if I need help (like he’s done twice in the past 3 days) It’s pretty awesome.
I love my dad, and can’t imagine a life without him. I would have a wish that everyone could have a father figure in their life, whether it’s their biological father, a foster father, or a really good family friend, uncle, neighbor, or something. It’s very important to have that influence on one’s life.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Boys...why I like them...analysis
This analysis is depressing. Or maybe just because my outlook is depressing. As I think about all my guy friends, I think about the thin, beautiful girls they have crushes on. I get the impression that most boys follow that pattern.
What kind of guys do I like? And why? (*sob* look at my obsession)
I like guys with a sense of humor. If they can't laugh about things, I don't like to be around them. When a guy really makes me laugh, without being vulgar or insulting, it melts me. I can feel comfortable around them because they don't take themselves too seriously. I also really like making them laugh too.
I like guys who love their moms. When a guy respects what his mother tells him, I start to get really interested. Rebels may be good for other girls, but give me a guy who knows that the best thing to do is to be kind to his mother. It means he'll respect his girlfriend (someday) too.
I like good, clean cut, respectful, polite guys.
I like guys who aren't loudmouths. I'm loud, and it annoys me when a guy needs to be loud too. I don't know why. I guess it all goes back to respect. And not being dumb...dumb boys are the ones who are always trying to make jokes in class. And dumb girls I guess, too *shame* Guys who can listen make me really happy.
I like guys who think. It really means a lot to me when I find out that a guy was thinking about me, or about something I said. Even if it's in a friendly way, I really appreciate it. To take a long time, and consider a question I asked, and then come to me with the answer a while later, is almost better than coming up with the answer on the spot. It means they take people seriously, and that's really nice.
I like guys who make the effort. When they make the effort to be on time, or to come to a little extra thing, or spend a little extra time on a present, or when they try to take my suggestions, or when they go out of their way to talk to me. That's when I absolutely start to adore them. That's when they make me feel happy inside, and that's when I start making the effort to come talk to them, and to do stuff with them.
Well, I think that covers the basics. August blue eyes helps too :D Why can't a guy like that like a girl like me? Well, that's for some other analysis.
What kind of guys do I like? And why? (*sob* look at my obsession)
I like guys with a sense of humor. If they can't laugh about things, I don't like to be around them. When a guy really makes me laugh, without being vulgar or insulting, it melts me. I can feel comfortable around them because they don't take themselves too seriously. I also really like making them laugh too.
I like guys who love their moms. When a guy respects what his mother tells him, I start to get really interested. Rebels may be good for other girls, but give me a guy who knows that the best thing to do is to be kind to his mother. It means he'll respect his girlfriend (someday) too.
I like good, clean cut, respectful, polite guys.
I like guys who aren't loudmouths. I'm loud, and it annoys me when a guy needs to be loud too. I don't know why. I guess it all goes back to respect. And not being dumb...dumb boys are the ones who are always trying to make jokes in class. And dumb girls I guess, too *shame* Guys who can listen make me really happy.
I like guys who think. It really means a lot to me when I find out that a guy was thinking about me, or about something I said. Even if it's in a friendly way, I really appreciate it. To take a long time, and consider a question I asked, and then come to me with the answer a while later, is almost better than coming up with the answer on the spot. It means they take people seriously, and that's really nice.
I like guys who make the effort. When they make the effort to be on time, or to come to a little extra thing, or spend a little extra time on a present, or when they try to take my suggestions, or when they go out of their way to talk to me. That's when I absolutely start to adore them. That's when they make me feel happy inside, and that's when I start making the effort to come talk to them, and to do stuff with them.
Well, I think that covers the basics. August blue eyes helps too :D Why can't a guy like that like a girl like me? Well, that's for some other analysis.
Friday, December 09, 2005
In the light of darkness
I'm unsure. For the first time in a while, I am really unsure. Well, ok, not as badly as it could be, but I'm just not sure what road to take. I really don't feel up to taking any of them. But I have learned one thing: some people always know what you should do, even if they never seem to have the answers for their own lives. Some people just shed light on anything, even if it seems like a pit of darkness. It becomes a long, blurry tube to the unknown! In a good way! hehe I'm thankful for such wise, understanding friends. (why are they all guys!?) lol
Thursday, December 08, 2005
Boys are SO much more complicated than girls
It's true. And if you want to know why, I'm going to write a book. Because it's true. Guys, you're allowed to be sweet, just so you know. You're allowed to go out of your way to talk to girls, and if you get rejected, they don't deserve you anyway
Saturday, December 03, 2005
An Analysis of My Prejudice
I decided to go against all better (and worse) judgements and talk about something that confuses me. My not-so-secret prejudice...against old people.
Yup. If there is anything less generous, and less mature, &c. &c. &c. I'm having a hard time thinking what it is (besides maybe the average 7th grade girl.) Today I got back from RHSMUN. I was in the Commission on the Status of Women. Our second topic was "The status of Elderly Women in Society." This was difficult for me to speak about, debate about, or care about. Isn't that horrible?! Why do I feel this way about the elderly even though I've felt little but the utmost respect for all other races, religions, &c.? I know it's wrong, but the feeling is still there...what makes me feel this way?
One contributing factor is the fact that I haven't come into really close contact with many elderly people. I grew up very far away from my grandparents, and I didn't make it a habit of visiting unrelated old people. I think because of my childhood inexperience, I never got used to the idea of having old people around, and assumed that everyone should be young (30 is still rather old in my mind)
Another possible reason is current bad experiences. My grandfathers all died before I could know them, so I only have really associated with old widows...of course, I love my grandmothers a LOT. But that still doesn't put aside my prejudice, for some crazy reason. Perhaps it is because I have experienced almost nothing but boredom when at one of my grandmother's houses...I know it sounds horrible, but it is the truth. Our personalities totally clash (we are both opinionated people, but she gets SO complainy and she feels like she has to correct everything anyone says, even if she's totally wrong) so talking to her is over fast (she doesn't even tell stories about the olden days...just complains about the modern ones) and she doesn't have anything to do in her condo, except a piano. I sometimes get excited when I see it, and I start to play it, but then she gets mad because it makes too much noise. Ok, this is starting to sound like I hate my grandmother, I really don't. She's a sweet lady who made my dad the great person he is, I just...am analyzing.
I think probably the greatest factor in my prejudice is society. Young people think negatively or apathetically about old people as a rule. There are a few exceptions, but they are usually only partial ones. Young people may think an old guy is cool, or funny, or cute, or tell cool stories but they usually don't care about their current lives (probably because there usually isn't a lot going on...gah, that's prejudism again) A horror movie about an old lady would be laughed out of the theaters. A comedy about an old couple would have to be really well done to get decent reviews. A romance? can we say EW NO...I think I'm actually worse than society in those ways, though. I get a wee bit uninterested when the actors are 30...isn't that sad? Also, old people are viewed as useless. Financially, that's usually true. Still, I know old people have a lot to offer...or do I? Nothing is really coming to mind, besides being good grandparents, telling stories to interested audiences and maybe senior missionaries. I am horrible about this! I think I really do hate old people, *weeps* I change books mentally to make the man as young as the woman usually is (classics...the man's always like 33! *gag*)
In conclusion: I do have a problem. There are significant reasons for this problem, but it is a problem nontheless. I need to be as (or more) accepting of fogies as I am of Jehova's witnesses. I need to be as interested in them and their experiences as I am in Asian people. Of course, the geezers will never live up to Canadians, but who can?
Yup. If there is anything less generous, and less mature, &c. &c. &c. I'm having a hard time thinking what it is (besides maybe the average 7th grade girl.) Today I got back from RHSMUN. I was in the Commission on the Status of Women. Our second topic was "The status of Elderly Women in Society." This was difficult for me to speak about, debate about, or care about. Isn't that horrible?! Why do I feel this way about the elderly even though I've felt little but the utmost respect for all other races, religions, &c.? I know it's wrong, but the feeling is still there...what makes me feel this way?
One contributing factor is the fact that I haven't come into really close contact with many elderly people. I grew up very far away from my grandparents, and I didn't make it a habit of visiting unrelated old people. I think because of my childhood inexperience, I never got used to the idea of having old people around, and assumed that everyone should be young (30 is still rather old in my mind)
Another possible reason is current bad experiences. My grandfathers all died before I could know them, so I only have really associated with old widows...of course, I love my grandmothers a LOT. But that still doesn't put aside my prejudice, for some crazy reason. Perhaps it is because I have experienced almost nothing but boredom when at one of my grandmother's houses...I know it sounds horrible, but it is the truth. Our personalities totally clash (we are both opinionated people, but she gets SO complainy and she feels like she has to correct everything anyone says, even if she's totally wrong) so talking to her is over fast (she doesn't even tell stories about the olden days...just complains about the modern ones) and she doesn't have anything to do in her condo, except a piano. I sometimes get excited when I see it, and I start to play it, but then she gets mad because it makes too much noise. Ok, this is starting to sound like I hate my grandmother, I really don't. She's a sweet lady who made my dad the great person he is, I just...am analyzing.
I think probably the greatest factor in my prejudice is society. Young people think negatively or apathetically about old people as a rule. There are a few exceptions, but they are usually only partial ones. Young people may think an old guy is cool, or funny, or cute, or tell cool stories but they usually don't care about their current lives (probably because there usually isn't a lot going on...gah, that's prejudism again) A horror movie about an old lady would be laughed out of the theaters. A comedy about an old couple would have to be really well done to get decent reviews. A romance? can we say EW NO...I think I'm actually worse than society in those ways, though. I get a wee bit uninterested when the actors are 30...isn't that sad? Also, old people are viewed as useless. Financially, that's usually true. Still, I know old people have a lot to offer...or do I? Nothing is really coming to mind, besides being good grandparents, telling stories to interested audiences and maybe senior missionaries. I am horrible about this! I think I really do hate old people, *weeps* I change books mentally to make the man as young as the woman usually is (classics...the man's always like 33! *gag*)
In conclusion: I do have a problem. There are significant reasons for this problem, but it is a problem nontheless. I need to be as (or more) accepting of fogies as I am of Jehova's witnesses. I need to be as interested in them and their experiences as I am in Asian people. Of course, the geezers will never live up to Canadians, but who can?
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