...and then there was one.
Lost a grandmother today; she'd been on her way out for a long time and we were never close--haven't seen each other in well over a decade--so I'm not, like, uber-sad about it, but still...
I'm down to one, now; oddly enough, I started with three thanks to my mom's parents getting divorced and re-married. Still have two grandfathers, though who knows how long that'll last.
...and, of course, being adopted, I'm not biologically related to ANY of these people.
Come to think of it, with my parents being the black sheep of their families, and the mondo-bizarro hippie upbringing I've had, I can't help feeling, at times, rather like Valentine Michael Smith from Stranger In a Strange Land: an outsider looking in at the world. It gives one an interesting perspective on humanity, seeing foibles and behaviors which most take for granted, it makes one raise an querying eyebrow quite often, and it gives one a lot of point-and-laugh material, but it also sets one apart.
Between being left-handed, adopted, lesbian, multi-racial as hell, geeky before it was cool, and who knows WHAT the fuck else, I've never been normal, I've never been in the in-group, the majority. Hell, even within the minorities, I've always been the black sheep; I'm by no means your typical lesbian, I'm really a punk interloper in the goth scene, and among us complete nerd-bags I find myself set apart because I tend to prefer the good guys to the bad, happy endings, and Star Wars to Star Trek.
So to say that I'm kind of an outsider--like it or not--isn't inaccurate. Which is probably why I feel more familial ties to the friends I've chosen than to the family I was issued due to who my parents happen to be.
Sometimes I do wonder what it'd be like to have a more normal life, with siblings, with closer ties to extended family, to truly fit in; most of the time I think it'd be terribly dull, but there are times I think it'd be...less lonely.
...and I'd probably be mourning my dead grandmother a hell of a lot more than I am right now. I was sadder when George Carlin died; at least I felt he was a kindred spirit, after a fashion.
I d'know... meh. Double meh. I'm gonna go work on my comic and do some laundry. Go to martial arts class tonight. *pshrug*
I'm down to one, now; oddly enough, I started with three thanks to my mom's parents getting divorced and re-married. Still have two grandfathers, though who knows how long that'll last.
...and, of course, being adopted, I'm not biologically related to ANY of these people.
Come to think of it, with my parents being the black sheep of their families, and the mondo-bizarro hippie upbringing I've had, I can't help feeling, at times, rather like Valentine Michael Smith from Stranger In a Strange Land: an outsider looking in at the world. It gives one an interesting perspective on humanity, seeing foibles and behaviors which most take for granted, it makes one raise an querying eyebrow quite often, and it gives one a lot of point-and-laugh material, but it also sets one apart.
Between being left-handed, adopted, lesbian, multi-racial as hell, geeky before it was cool, and who knows WHAT the fuck else, I've never been normal, I've never been in the in-group, the majority. Hell, even within the minorities, I've always been the black sheep; I'm by no means your typical lesbian, I'm really a punk interloper in the goth scene, and among us complete nerd-bags I find myself set apart because I tend to prefer the good guys to the bad, happy endings, and Star Wars to Star Trek.
So to say that I'm kind of an outsider--like it or not--isn't inaccurate. Which is probably why I feel more familial ties to the friends I've chosen than to the family I was issued due to who my parents happen to be.
Sometimes I do wonder what it'd be like to have a more normal life, with siblings, with closer ties to extended family, to truly fit in; most of the time I think it'd be terribly dull, but there are times I think it'd be...less lonely.
...and I'd probably be mourning my dead grandmother a hell of a lot more than I am right now. I was sadder when George Carlin died; at least I felt he was a kindred spirit, after a fashion.
I d'know... meh. Double meh. I'm gonna go work on my comic and do some laundry. Go to martial arts class tonight. *pshrug*