mnvnjnsn's Diary

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One problem with having an online journal, for me, is that I am too aware of an audience. In the multitudes of scrawling, hardcopy journals I have squirrelled away about the house, I am at least safe in the knowledge that even if someone finds it, they probably can't read my handwriting. And so I am free to write about whatver is troubling me, be it boyfriends or crushes or work issues or whatever. But since I've gone public, so to speak, I don't ever write unexpurgated thoughts, I don't write about what's really happening and how I really feel about them. I post things pre-digested, knowing that some of my issues involve the people who are reading, and lord knows I can't let them really know what I'm thinking.

That isn't to say I'm not honest here. I try to be. But I don't wax poetic about Trevor Dunnigan here, nor do I write nasty paragraphs when I'm mad at him. It seems unfair for me to invade his privacy so. And since he is such a big part of my life, not talking about him limits the topics I can comfortably expound upon.

And so, I turn instead to the wonderful world of pharmaceuticals. My therapist (Bonnie) and my very pregnant primary care physician (Marnie) are fighting over what drugs I should be on. Bonnie wants me on OxyContin-- she seems to think that a single timed-release capsule would be better for my pain and my moods-- while Marnie wants to keep me on the Vicodin. I'm up to three per day now. What does it mean when you stop getting new prescription bottles, but your existing prescription bottles all treble in size?

I'm not sure which one I should be on. They both have their benefits and hazards. The biggest one being, of course, addiction. But how do you discern between need and... need?

So, jenniebee wrote about the familial mess I got caught in yesterday. It was a pain, let me tell you. J on AIM, K on the phone, both bitching about each other and expecting me to be on their side. Not that I couldn't see each of their points, but jeez. I'm glad they got it sorted out without the need for Jimmy Carter.

jenniebee wonders how two sisters can be so different, given that they grew up in the same family, raised by the same parents, in the same circumstances. I think the answer is twofold. The universal point (that is, the one that probably applies to all siblings) is that there is a pretty plausible theory about birth order that I tend to agree with. That is, the oldest tends to be the scholatic achiever, and this often is the child to be the one to get the good grades and be an overachiever. This is K, the lawyer, the one with the gorgeous kids, the 3 college degrees, the name with a bullet in her law firm's roster.

The middle child (this happens to be J) does everything different in order to differentiate herself from her elder sibling. She excels at the popular level, with lots of friends. She's the rebel, the slacker, the rockstar.

This leaves the third child (me) to strive for individuality from the other two through humor or other attention-getting techniques. That's why I was always assumed most likely to be a game show host. I am the clown, and I am also the one who can afford to pick the best attributes from Thing 1 (K) and Thing 2 (J), and therefore I get along with both better than they get along with each other.

The other reason, and the one that applies only to us, is that K was influenced by my father much more me or J were. Dad, for all his coolness (he was a youngest child), was pretty damn conservative. We couldn't pierce our ears. We had to go to church. K was 18 when Dad died. I hadn't even reached puberty yet. So of course K will be more like him. J was just old enough to rebel against all the silly, sexist ideas Dad had for his three daughters. I had the least influence, so I consider myself sadly disconnected from my father's legacy.

This turned out to be an entry for jenniebee more than anyone else. But hey, I hope you all learned something.

We were chatting on AIM just now about this subject. I reprint it here:

Jenniebeeme: Hey with the little tiff yesterday, do you feel like the middle child?
SASPolarGeek: not really
Jenniebeeme: oh
SASPolarGeek: Hang on, I'm writing about that right now
Jenniebeeme: ok
SASPolarGeek: it'll make sense when I post
Jenniebeeme: ok
SASPolarGeek: I did feel like Jimmy Carter though
Jenniebeeme: hahaha
SASPolarGeek: I have sinned in my heart, you know
SASPolarGeek: and in my pants
Jenniebeeme: I get to be Anwar Sedat then
SASPolarGeek: It's your funeral

2:44 p.m. - 2003-06-24


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