i - surrogate mother - have the prestigious position of "x-box illiterate". of the clan technoilliterata. these kids grew up with controllers in thieir sweaty little fists at infancy. they blow me to smithereens while i fire my ammo into walls. i am not fun for them to play with! better sit out entirely.

my childhood was playing outside with snakes and puppies and neighborhood kids. i built forts and picked wild blueberries in summer. i made a world of outdoor amusement. i built snowmen and diverse achitectural features out of snow, went sledding and dangled off the pier over icy lake erie.

these kids sit and compute and game and watch DVDs. it is a very different existance. i was outdoorsy. i still am.

we do connect, though. we read together, do art together. one of the kids is a bit more like me when i was a kid... i can lure her into going on adventures that leave us muddy, pink cheeked, and our socks full of burs!

by the way- a sigway...

my self image improved lately. frankly- do not understand it.

terms of inflated ego: an aquaintance- (who often flirts a bit with me, calls me "beautiful lady"...) compared me in appearance to a younger genevieve bujold. i recall seeing her in several film- my favorite being "king of hearts".

can't explain why this helped at this time. i'd like to figure out why it made such a deep impression and what it is doing inside me.

she is attractive, but certainly no shocking beauty or anything. can't fathom why this has occupied daily thoughts in such a pervasive way. perhaps the lucious feeling of admiration and the sweet reference to someone foreign and talented and famous and removed... i dunno. here's hoping that writing may be a means to understanding.

okay: she is french canadian. "in theroy" there is french blood in lineage. never cared for much in the way of the french, tho, and certainly now is no time to turn "fer the french", because people might beat you up. why has the reference has left me feeling stronger... somehow.

weird, huh?

i have seldom been compared to many others because i am a bit unusual in features. i think very little about my looks. i almost died at 17, and after having plastic surgery on my face, things fundamentally shifted in my ego. that took the whole concern about being "pretty" away.

maybe there is a small buttoned up pocket inside that got left behind at 17 that got a breath of air the other day.