VOA News - Pentagon: Nuclear Warheads Domestic Flight was 'Serious Error'
which is a little scary. I mean, I knew my father wore a radiation badge while loading bombs, but I guess I didn't really understand nuclear weapons back then. So Barksdale is where you send nukes to be destroyed. No wonder I, a child of the Cold War, never worried about surviving a nuclear attack--I knew we were up there in terms of targeting. It's one of the centres of the Strategic Air Command and the base of operations for the 8th Air Force, if I remember. It also has a honking big missile set up like an obelisk right as you go onto the base. Ah, the good old days. Did I mention the lakes filled with water moccasins and alligators (okay, one alligator, named Old George, I think) and the pine woods full of copperheads? It's amazing I lived through my childhood.
Born, like other comic book characters, out of an otherwise trivial but life-changing animal bite, the Rabid Librarian seeks out strange, useless facts, raves about real and perceived injustices, and seeks to meet her greatest challenge of all--her own life.
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Showing posts with label Childhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Childhood. Show all posts
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Friday, August 10, 2007
Random songs from childhood dredged up by therapy
My main theme song as a child, which in retrospect is a little scary
Simon and Garfunkel's 'Patterns'
another one that was very important to me...I was a very lonely child.
Neil Diamond's 'Shilo'
and then there was
Harry Chapin 'Cat's in the Cradle'
I so wanted to be like my father as a child. More importantly, I wanted to be loved by my father, but when he was there, there was never time for me, or what attention I got was negative. I'd like to think I'm not like him at all, but that sort of thing becomes ingrained, and then there's the fact that any time I look in the mirror I see a strong physical resemblance. Fortunately we can choose to change those ingrained behaviours--especially with a little help from a therapist.
and finally....Supertramp's 'Logical Song'
I never wanted to be put in a mould, but here I am in my 40s and I'm this strange blend of wondrous child and a worker drone who won't take risks. I've gone with what's safe because I've been hurt before. I need to start learning to trust again.
Simon and Garfunkel's 'Patterns'
another one that was very important to me...I was a very lonely child.
Neil Diamond's 'Shilo'
and then there was
Harry Chapin 'Cat's in the Cradle'
I so wanted to be like my father as a child. More importantly, I wanted to be loved by my father, but when he was there, there was never time for me, or what attention I got was negative. I'd like to think I'm not like him at all, but that sort of thing becomes ingrained, and then there's the fact that any time I look in the mirror I see a strong physical resemblance. Fortunately we can choose to change those ingrained behaviours--especially with a little help from a therapist.
and finally....Supertramp's 'Logical Song'
I never wanted to be put in a mould, but here I am in my 40s and I'm this strange blend of wondrous child and a worker drone who won't take risks. I've gone with what's safe because I've been hurt before. I need to start learning to trust again.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
On the radio
Fort Minor's 'Where'd You Go?', one of the few rap songs I like.
Of course, on the radio, certain words are sanitised.
My dad wasn't around that much when I was a kid. In the early days, say the first six years of my life, he was in Southeast Asia during the Vietnam War. Once he came back there were temporary duty assignments, but even when he was home there wasn't much interaction between us. He'd come home, we'd eat dinner, then he'd go to his radio room and mess with his scopes or solder circuit boards. My mom's main hobby was ceramics. Mine was reading. We were three people supposedly a family living in the same house, but very much apart. Most attention I did get from my dad was negative attention, something I incited at times because I craved anything from him that would prove he cared one way or another for me. When I was in my 20s and living with my ex-husband and our bosom companion, it was the same thing--three people living separate lives, with me reading to escape my feelings about the situation.
Funny that all this came up, because I was so tired from various activities over the weekend and trying to get a friend to work that I totally forgot I had a therapy appointment today. I know they charge if you miss a session; I just hope they don't bill me the whole thing--it's like $150 a pop. But I'm glad I'm back in therapy. I have a lot of issues from my childhood and early adulthood to iron out. We're really looking at changing some of my coping mechanisms a little at a time. My assignment for this week was to take one of the things I wanted to have or have done by the time I died and visualising it manifesting in my life and then working out how to make it a reality. I know, it sounds like psychobabble, but I think there is something to it. I have a tendency to believe I don't deserve anything good, and I think the world that is reflected back to me agrees. By changing my ideas, I may be able to change my experiences.
Well, that's all for now. I got a little rest earlier but I want to get some more sleep. I have to work both jobs tomorrow and the next day, so I'll need it.
Of course, on the radio, certain words are sanitised.
My dad wasn't around that much when I was a kid. In the early days, say the first six years of my life, he was in Southeast Asia during the Vietnam War. Once he came back there were temporary duty assignments, but even when he was home there wasn't much interaction between us. He'd come home, we'd eat dinner, then he'd go to his radio room and mess with his scopes or solder circuit boards. My mom's main hobby was ceramics. Mine was reading. We were three people supposedly a family living in the same house, but very much apart. Most attention I did get from my dad was negative attention, something I incited at times because I craved anything from him that would prove he cared one way or another for me. When I was in my 20s and living with my ex-husband and our bosom companion, it was the same thing--three people living separate lives, with me reading to escape my feelings about the situation.
Funny that all this came up, because I was so tired from various activities over the weekend and trying to get a friend to work that I totally forgot I had a therapy appointment today. I know they charge if you miss a session; I just hope they don't bill me the whole thing--it's like $150 a pop. But I'm glad I'm back in therapy. I have a lot of issues from my childhood and early adulthood to iron out. We're really looking at changing some of my coping mechanisms a little at a time. My assignment for this week was to take one of the things I wanted to have or have done by the time I died and visualising it manifesting in my life and then working out how to make it a reality. I know, it sounds like psychobabble, but I think there is something to it. I have a tendency to believe I don't deserve anything good, and I think the world that is reflected back to me agrees. By changing my ideas, I may be able to change my experiences.
Well, that's all for now. I got a little rest earlier but I want to get some more sleep. I have to work both jobs tomorrow and the next day, so I'll need it.
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