Thursday, January 12, 2006

distant friends and little girls

I just had a very satisfying yak to one of my best friends- young Ms L. Now I don't know about the rest of you folk out there, but to me the good-ness of your friends has nothing to do with how often you see them or meet up for coffee, but the fact that you can call them at random times and just pick up from where you left off... Your good friends are the ones who still like you after you have both grown and changed over the years. Ahhh... I remember once coming home from a catch up with her in the park when for once were in the same state at the same time, and my mum had her two best girlfriends over for lunch and a few chardies. They looked at us and we looked at them and we all thought, "oh yeah, this is us/her in 30 years' time". (My mother's friend then fell down the front steps after one too many chardies... "Ooops, tumbled over" to quote Bridget Jones (or should that be Helen Fielding- ohh, there's another one for the 'favourite books bit!).

Actually that leads into a conversation I had yesterday about the seemingly genetic predisposition for all female children between the ages of say, eighteen months and 8 years to wear exclusively PINK in all its shades. Now my little neice Lilah is a victim of this and her parents are nice, alternative hippy types, but Lilah is such a ... GIRL! I said it was because there is a secret radioactive wave being put out by the Howard Government to turn all the next generation of girls into stay at home mums ("Come on all you Bridgets!" was the PM's rallying cry to women of my generation- have I mentioned how much I hate the Howard government?). Maybe it is just the tail-end of the rise of 'raunch culture' (which, apparently, feminism is to blame for, too). Actually, maybe there was an early trial of the secret wave thingy on N*&^k Island when I was a wee baby; my lovely parents who, despite being good catholics, were quite forward thinking for their time, and decided that my brothers wouldn't have guns and that the girls wouldn't have dollies. That was until my Dad observed my older sister (who was just a tiny 2 year-old) making beds and clothes for wooden clothes-pegs (yes, the old-fashioned variety) with her little handkerchiefs (aww, too cute ... and pathetic in a way, too) with absolutely no provocation (no TV on N*&^k Island in them days either).

And yes, the next day he went out and bought her a dolly.

By the way, does anyone know about N-methyl substitution and potency of catecholamines? I'm getting conflicting answers from my textbooks. Just for a slight change of pace, that is

2 Comments:

Blogger Torrie said...

My husband is an anesthesiologist.
I'll have to see if he can answer your question.

13/1/06 07:20  
Blogger jen said...

No way... too spooky!!!

15/1/06 00:50  

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