"Autism & Memoirs of an Old Maid"…C'hele's Story

March 16, 2017

Spring Break: day three, Musings

Filed under: Uncategorized — C'hele @ 02:24

This morning I got to sleep in one hour later.  It was exquisite.  I have learned to rejoice in the simple things life has to offer.  It is now ten after eight a.m. and the cafeteria is busy prepping for the breakfast crew that is soon to come.  A mob of guys that you can’t mistake for trades guys. Some, come along with an over-powering bouquet of oil and engine cleaners.  I plan to stand among the line up and listen.  My daughter has been telling me that some of these guys from the other trades programs are verbally abusive towards them.  Mean and disrespectful.  I was horrified to learn that this has been going on for some weeks.  Chef has already complained to the other instructors about this.  It’s helped somewhat, but frankly, there are a few assholes that still can’t shut their pie-hole’s. You would think that things would be different.  They are ALL at school LEARNING!?  My daughter is on the sandwich bar, by herself today.  I intend on observing from a respectful distance but within ear-shot.  This will be difficult for me.  I grew up with males for the first thirteen years of my life.  Grew up with mechanics, quarter-mile racers, some bikers and the like.  I’m amazed that my mother’s formal upbringing rubbed upon me and that I actually look like a cultured female now. It wasn’t always so.  I had to earn the respect of my male counterparts when I was younger and quickly too.  I was bullied by many males and was the only female their age, within two blocks.  It took my uncle (a hot-rodder and biker) and my mother to take me out in the backyard to teach me how to protect myself and fight.  I remember my mother telling my uncle, “you don’t know what you’re talking about, let me show her.”  My uncle was a true seventies child but he had an incredible respect for his older sister, my mother.  My mother is gorgeous and was almost a victim of rape many times in her life.  She depended upon her creativity, her amazing fitness (years of being an athletic cross-country skier in her town) and quick wit.  She learned how to fight, and fight dirty.  She is only four foot and eleven inches tall, very petite.  She is little but she is strong and is also a bit ADHD to boot. That meant that she could be fast and fast she was. My uncle could not help but take a step back and watch my mother show me “how it was done.”  I would observe him shake his head and comment “I feel sorry for the asshole who ever crossed your path and pissed you off.” Let me tell you, I learned fast and soon earned the respect of all the boys in my neighborhood. The anger I felt being bullied for so long, made me almost vicious.  My grandfather who fought in Finland’s “Winter War” would often nod his head in approval, proud I was using my “Sisu” to help me get through all the beatings from these neighborhood boys.

So, am I worried standing in line, observing these very immature, loud primates bluffing and bullshitting their toughness?  Not one bit. I had to laugh this morning, my daughter was begging me to behave myself and not make a scene.  “Of course not!” I said.   I intend on being the ultimate professional. However, they will learn fast should they piss me off, the trucker mouth I have developed but only use on special occasions.  Language I have learned but found extremely vulgar from years of hanging around shops and garages.

Lunch starts at around eleven thirty.  I will have to remind myself to keep it cool.  The failure of my last relationship has made me extremely bitter and angry towards guys.  I must ascend above these feelings and think of things more pleasant and less stressful.  So I will think about this classic car I wish to buy but my brother won’t sell it to me.  It’s a 1967 Pontiac Tempest Safari Wagon.  I’ll have to be creative about this……….it needs some body work, an engine and tranny.  We will see.


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