But I WAAAAAANNNNNTTT It
Feb. 11th, 2004 03:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sisabetYou should watch Angel tonight. I don't really have a clue what it is about - I've seen the preview and lord knows you can't take that at face value, but still. Everyone that knows me should watch Angel tonight. If only for the preview of next weeks episode. Seriously. Even if you don't watch Angel and even if you don't watch tonight's episode and even if you are sitting here scratching your head as you read this and going "Angel who?" I DON'T CARE. At 9:55pm EST or 8:55pm CST turn your television station to the WB.
Cause I am not gonna be able to talk about anything else for the next week. Possibly the next year.
I want one. I'm not gonna say what cause it is a spoiler and I like being all vague and mysterious, but I want one. Just watch the preview if you really want to know.
Thinking back - I was kinda privileged as a child. I mean - I did lack for television until my parents got a satelite dish - but then the fact that they bought a satelite dish (great big contact-the-space-station 80's behemoth) negates all previous TV deprivation. My mother did have an aversion to anything used and this extended to the library, and we lived over 30 miles from a bookstore - but she still would buy me books when we went to town and eventually got over her library aversion enough that the bookmobile lady would drive out to our house in the summertime. That was so nice. And I loved the bookmobile lady as she was not nearly as condescending as the librarian at school and hardly ever suggested I stay at the young adults section of the van and would bring me books she thought I would like. Which was Peter Straub and Dean Koontz and Stephen King. I wasn't exactly a literate 12 year old but I was 12. Give me a break. I liked the scary.
I say all this cause someone recently said I was deprived cause I didn't see the Mary Tyler Moore show until I was a teenager because the one station our antenna picked up didn't rerun it.
I was not deprived. I had a pony.
Well. I did have a pony, but it wasn't like you'd think. She was over 30 years old and she really didn't like to move around a whole lot. She liked for you to scratch just beside her nose and if you had a piece of carrot she'd kind of walk after you for a little bit, so my little brother could sit on her and I would walk (albeit slowly so as not to get to far away where Annie could not see the carrot) - this was the extent of rides.
Of course, you have to balance the fact that I had a pony with the trauma of my pony keeling over dead when I was nine and then laying in the driveway stiff and grimacing for three days while we waited on the glue truck. I remember the kids on the school bus being very nice to me that week though cause they all could see that my pony was dead. We could also all grumble and commiserate about the slow-ass glue truck. There is sometimes a universal experience that unites the farm kids. I think the glue truck is one of those things. Taking off a week from school in the spring to help "set" is another of those things (Set - as in "setting tobacco" - involved the planting of the the plantlets in the field. Very repetative work, but you can get a nice tan) and a week in the winter to help "strip" (Strip as in "stripping tobacco" in which the cured plants are brought down from the barn and the leaves are pulled away from the stalk [or stripped] and baled according to grade. In certain counties, the highest compliment a father can be paid is that his daughter is one hell of an agressive stripper).
I forget what I was saying...
Oh yeah - next week's Angel. Other than a temper tantrum that I threw in the floor of The Children's Castle toy store when I was seven and my mother would not buy me a My Little Pony that I *had* to have, I have never wanted anything the way that I want this. Also - that was the only time I threw a public fit over an object. I threw fits all the time, but usually they involved my feeling being hurt or trying to get Dawn in trouble. I don't know what to do with this need. I suspect I have been spoiled by life up til this point. I need coping strategies. Or IT.
Cause I am not gonna be able to talk about anything else for the next week. Possibly the next year.
I want one. I'm not gonna say what cause it is a spoiler and I like being all vague and mysterious, but I want one. Just watch the preview if you really want to know.
Thinking back - I was kinda privileged as a child. I mean - I did lack for television until my parents got a satelite dish - but then the fact that they bought a satelite dish (great big contact-the-space-station 80's behemoth) negates all previous TV deprivation. My mother did have an aversion to anything used and this extended to the library, and we lived over 30 miles from a bookstore - but she still would buy me books when we went to town and eventually got over her library aversion enough that the bookmobile lady would drive out to our house in the summertime. That was so nice. And I loved the bookmobile lady as she was not nearly as condescending as the librarian at school and hardly ever suggested I stay at the young adults section of the van and would bring me books she thought I would like. Which was Peter Straub and Dean Koontz and Stephen King. I wasn't exactly a literate 12 year old but I was 12. Give me a break. I liked the scary.
I say all this cause someone recently said I was deprived cause I didn't see the Mary Tyler Moore show until I was a teenager because the one station our antenna picked up didn't rerun it.
I was not deprived. I had a pony.
Well. I did have a pony, but it wasn't like you'd think. She was over 30 years old and she really didn't like to move around a whole lot. She liked for you to scratch just beside her nose and if you had a piece of carrot she'd kind of walk after you for a little bit, so my little brother could sit on her and I would walk (albeit slowly so as not to get to far away where Annie could not see the carrot) - this was the extent of rides.
Of course, you have to balance the fact that I had a pony with the trauma of my pony keeling over dead when I was nine and then laying in the driveway stiff and grimacing for three days while we waited on the glue truck. I remember the kids on the school bus being very nice to me that week though cause they all could see that my pony was dead. We could also all grumble and commiserate about the slow-ass glue truck. There is sometimes a universal experience that unites the farm kids. I think the glue truck is one of those things. Taking off a week from school in the spring to help "set" is another of those things (Set - as in "setting tobacco" - involved the planting of the the plantlets in the field. Very repetative work, but you can get a nice tan) and a week in the winter to help "strip" (Strip as in "stripping tobacco" in which the cured plants are brought down from the barn and the leaves are pulled away from the stalk [or stripped] and baled according to grade. In certain counties, the highest compliment a father can be paid is that his daughter is one hell of an agressive stripper).
I forget what I was saying...
Oh yeah - next week's Angel. Other than a temper tantrum that I threw in the floor of The Children's Castle toy store when I was seven and my mother would not buy me a My Little Pony that I *had* to have, I have never wanted anything the way that I want this. Also - that was the only time I threw a public fit over an object. I threw fits all the time, but usually they involved my feeling being hurt or trying to get Dawn in trouble. I don't know what to do with this need. I suspect I have been spoiled by life up til this point. I need coping strategies. Or IT.
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Date: 2004-02-11 02:09 pm (UTC)Re:
Date: 2004-02-11 02:13 pm (UTC)A Pony to Live and a Pony to Die