I don't know what to title this entry; I'm all gobsmacked.
So there's no way to avoid talk of the Valentine's Day Nor'Easter we may be getting. ::shifty eyes:: The weather just predicted 10 to 16 inches for where I live. Storm center located in the Gulf of Maine. Wow, and a winter storm watch already up. Hmm.
It amuses me that I have subbing jobs lined up for Tuesday and Friday, and there may well be snow days between them.
Also, I was gobsmacked today. Gobsmacked, being another way of saying that Superboy punched my reality again.
The day this doesn't happen will be a very odd day. Today I was introduced to my brother's first grade teacher. That was cute.
But the gobsmacking happened when I was introduced to a class and a special ed aide came up to me and asked, "Are you related to..." and then said MY FATHER'S NAME.
You probably could have knocked me over with a feather. I don't know when that has EVER happened to me--people ask about Mom or Ryan or people I've never met, but I can't remember when I've been asked about my DAD. Let's keep in mind that he died over 16 years ago.
I'm still reality-punched.
She said she thought I looked "like someone [she] knew" and when she heard my name she thought I had to be his daughter. She worked with him from 1981 to 1984--meaning I was maybe one when she left. She was a receptionist where he worked.
She thought I looked familiar, which means I must look somewhat like my dad. I mean, I know I look my mother--ridiculously so, sometimes. My brother looks so much like Dad that sometimes when there's a picture of him from behind or the side it's hard to immediately tell who is in the picture--but the quality gives that away. But the last time anyone said they could see dad in me was at his great-aunt's funeral when a cousin said that I had his face, except for my eyes. (Those are Mom's.) But that was a family member who knew who I was and how I was related and this was said AFTER he went on and on about how Ryan was a carbon-copy of Dad. And I know I have my father's nose and mouth.
But it was kind of... well, reality-punching, to hear her say I looked like someone she knew. Because she doesn't know my mom (I know this because she said so), so it must be dad she meant and... just... yeah.
Very weird emotional place right now.
We were busy and it was a passing conversation, but I had to kind of fight the urge to tackle her and make her tell me everything she knew and every single story she could possibly remember about dad. I really would have appreciated some telepathy right then. =P It's not very often that I run into people who knew my dad who aren't family. And most of them are MOM'S family.
She did say that he was nice and very funny and explained to the classroom teacher that I was the daughter of one of her managers and told a quick story about how he kept a box of Cheese-Its on his desk and she couldn't ever leave his office without some.
I don't really know what to do with that, but I want more stories like it, but argh.
It's one of those weird things; I was so little that I don't remember what it was like, having two parents, but I have very distinct memories of him. But I never got to know him as a PERSON, you know? I remember him and I knew him the way little girls know their fathers. I know my mother as a person, and the rest of my family, and I just sort of crave that, you know? So anything anyone can tell me... I just sort of eat it up.
I can totally relate to Bindi Irwin, who says she wants to BE her father. Because even if it was something she wanted before he died, well. Then he died and that changes everything. I will confess that part of why I ever even gave Star Wars a chance was because Mom told me Dad loved it. And then there are other things that Mom told me AFTER I did them or got obsessed with them that Dad had loved. Like astronomy--I decorated my bedroom with glow-in-the-dark stars and she told me that Dad would have been jealous. Then she told me he adored Carl Sagan, so 13 year old me went out and bought Contact and READ IT. Granted, I didn't GET IT, but I read it.
So sometimes it's hard to tell if I would have liked something without hearing that he liked it and then purposefully seeking it out. It's weird.
Also? When Mom and I saw The Lake House, she was confused by the time travel and I tried to explain it to her and she stopped me because I was explaining it EXACTLY the way Dad had tried to explain it to her. This continues to be a really cool and really strange thing, all at once.
Anyway, I totally didn't expect for someone to ask if I was related to my FATHER, of all people, when I went in to sub this morning.
It was very, very, very strange and I'm still kind of weirded out.
That turned into a really rambly and weird post, but sometimes you just have to kind of air things out, you know? So, just sort of getting all this out of my head must be helpful, right?
(Also, contrary to how it may seem, I am not in need of sympathy or hugs. I'm good. Weirded out, but good.)
I'm going to continue my exploration of DC fandom, thankyouverymuch. Dammit, Dick Grayson. I've read more Wikipedia pages than I should have, just to figure out who's who in the DCU and oh, COMICS.
It amuses me that I have subbing jobs lined up for Tuesday and Friday, and there may well be snow days between them.
Also, I was gobsmacked today. Gobsmacked, being another way of saying that Superboy punched my reality again.
The day this doesn't happen will be a very odd day. Today I was introduced to my brother's first grade teacher. That was cute.
But the gobsmacking happened when I was introduced to a class and a special ed aide came up to me and asked, "Are you related to..." and then said MY FATHER'S NAME.
You probably could have knocked me over with a feather. I don't know when that has EVER happened to me--people ask about Mom or Ryan or people I've never met, but I can't remember when I've been asked about my DAD. Let's keep in mind that he died over 16 years ago.
I'm still reality-punched.
She said she thought I looked "like someone [she] knew" and when she heard my name she thought I had to be his daughter. She worked with him from 1981 to 1984--meaning I was maybe one when she left. She was a receptionist where he worked.
She thought I looked familiar, which means I must look somewhat like my dad. I mean, I know I look my mother--ridiculously so, sometimes. My brother looks so much like Dad that sometimes when there's a picture of him from behind or the side it's hard to immediately tell who is in the picture--but the quality gives that away. But the last time anyone said they could see dad in me was at his great-aunt's funeral when a cousin said that I had his face, except for my eyes. (Those are Mom's.) But that was a family member who knew who I was and how I was related and this was said AFTER he went on and on about how Ryan was a carbon-copy of Dad. And I know I have my father's nose and mouth.
But it was kind of... well, reality-punching, to hear her say I looked like someone she knew. Because she doesn't know my mom (I know this because she said so), so it must be dad she meant and... just... yeah.
Very weird emotional place right now.
We were busy and it was a passing conversation, but I had to kind of fight the urge to tackle her and make her tell me everything she knew and every single story she could possibly remember about dad. I really would have appreciated some telepathy right then. =P It's not very often that I run into people who knew my dad who aren't family. And most of them are MOM'S family.
She did say that he was nice and very funny and explained to the classroom teacher that I was the daughter of one of her managers and told a quick story about how he kept a box of Cheese-Its on his desk and she couldn't ever leave his office without some.
I don't really know what to do with that, but I want more stories like it, but argh.
It's one of those weird things; I was so little that I don't remember what it was like, having two parents, but I have very distinct memories of him. But I never got to know him as a PERSON, you know? I remember him and I knew him the way little girls know their fathers. I know my mother as a person, and the rest of my family, and I just sort of crave that, you know? So anything anyone can tell me... I just sort of eat it up.
I can totally relate to Bindi Irwin, who says she wants to BE her father. Because even if it was something she wanted before he died, well. Then he died and that changes everything. I will confess that part of why I ever even gave Star Wars a chance was because Mom told me Dad loved it. And then there are other things that Mom told me AFTER I did them or got obsessed with them that Dad had loved. Like astronomy--I decorated my bedroom with glow-in-the-dark stars and she told me that Dad would have been jealous. Then she told me he adored Carl Sagan, so 13 year old me went out and bought Contact and READ IT. Granted, I didn't GET IT, but I read it.
So sometimes it's hard to tell if I would have liked something without hearing that he liked it and then purposefully seeking it out. It's weird.
Also? When Mom and I saw The Lake House, she was confused by the time travel and I tried to explain it to her and she stopped me because I was explaining it EXACTLY the way Dad had tried to explain it to her. This continues to be a really cool and really strange thing, all at once.
Anyway, I totally didn't expect for someone to ask if I was related to my FATHER, of all people, when I went in to sub this morning.
It was very, very, very strange and I'm still kind of weirded out.
That turned into a really rambly and weird post, but sometimes you just have to kind of air things out, you know? So, just sort of getting all this out of my head must be helpful, right?
(Also, contrary to how it may seem, I am not in need of sympathy or hugs. I'm good. Weirded out, but good.)
I'm going to continue my exploration of DC fandom, thankyouverymuch. Dammit, Dick Grayson. I've read more Wikipedia pages than I should have, just to figure out who's who in the DCU and oh, COMICS.