Once and Future Geek

Anglophile: (n) 1. A person who greatly admires or favors England and things English. 2. Me.

I doubt my love of things to do with the UK started with my meeting of Prince Charles and Princess Diana in 1985, but that certainly didn’t hurt.

I was 13 at the  time, and my mother’s best friend was married to a man in the FBI.  He was going to be working security detail when Charles and Di were to make a stateside visit to Washington, DC, and so my mom’s friend asked our family to come down and we could maybe see them.  Our visit culminated into special entry to a Sunday church service with them, and then we got to line up to watch them process to a helicoptor waiting to whisk the royals away.

My family sat in the side pews, facing in towards the altar and slightly forward so that I had an excellent view of the Royal Couple in the front row.  I spent my time watching Diana instead of listening to the sermon. Now my brother, a 3 month-old, blond-haired, blue-eyed cherub, had a habit of sneezing in a cute, sighing way, and he obliged us during a quiet part of the service.  It was just enough to elicit a look in our direction and a smile from Diana. Squee! She knew of my existence, in a very roundabout, not actually knowing way!

After the service, a Rolls Royce took the couple from the church to the Reflecting Pool near the Washington Monument, where the helicoptor waited. The streets were lined with people who wanted to catch a glimpse of the Royals.  Lucky me, with my connections, waited with about 400 people right by the Reflecting Pool.  We queued on either side of the path to the helicoptor, and we were about half-way down. The car pulled up, and Charles and Diana got out. It didn’t occur to me at the time that she stayed 3 steps behind him, but she did. They walked towards the helicoptor, and then Charles branched off and came right over to my family! I stood with my mom’s friend Lindsay, Lindsay’s friend, and my family and Charles looked right at me and Lindsay and asked, “Are your husbands in the service?”

I nodded.

I had no idea what he said.

Then Diana came over to us. Her head was slightly bowed, she had a pleasant smile on her face. She looked so humble. My knees litterally started knocking together with fear and delight. My father held my cherub brother out for Diana to coo over.  She said he was very cute. My mother asked if she liked America, and if she missed her children. She did. I think my knees were audibly knocking at this point. Then they boarded the helicoptor and left. As it lifted, so did my skirt. Ooops.

This might be filtered through the romanticized brain of a 13 year old, but I remember Charles being tall and charismatic. Diana was exuding grace and dignity.  She had a simple off white jacket with a black collar & a black skirt on, but she wore it like ermine and jewels. There was no pretentious air about her. She was, to my eyes, all that a Princess should be.

I did snap a few pictures, but I think many of my pictures were ruined in a flood a few years ago.

I will DVR the wedding of Will and Kate. I’m hoping that their relationship will be different from that of his parents, but I have every confidence that Kate will be the kind of Princess that Diana was: Grace personified.

*As a side note, after the Royals took off, and most of the people went away, we stayed a bit to talk to people. I was tired and my sister and I wandered over to the Rolls that was still parked at the curb.  I leaned on it and an FBI man came screaming at me to get off of the car.  Hmmm. I guess it was his and he didn’t want me to scratch it.

The Delicate Balance of Positive and Negative

In this day and age of Social Networking, our lives are on complete display for the whole world.  While I know a few people who refuse to give in and hide themselves from things like Twitter, Facebook, 4Square, the many blogging sites (*cough* WordPress *cough*) etc…the majority of the population that spends time on the interwebs uses one of these, and uses them to put personal stuff out there.

Like, for example, a complaint…about shitty airline service, mean people who used to be counted amongst friends, a recipe you started to make and then realized your oven was broken…

I get that some people use their statuses to constantly whine. And it’s annoying to read someone who constantly whines about the same thing and doesn’t actually try to do anything about it.

I feel there is a difference between whining and venting. Traffic is bad and is making you want to kill? No big deal if you write that out.  But why is it ok for someone to then tell you to not be annoyed, or not let the world know that you are annoyed? I think that is a very passive-agressive dismissal of your friend’s mood to tell them to not feel what they feel, or tell them to not post annoyance. Everyone has a right to express frustration or anger (within reason) and to outright tell someone they can’t is tantamount to saying, “I don’t care about your problems.” So now you not only negate a real feeling, but you’re making someone feel even more upset because you aren’t showing support when a friend needs it. Which of course is going to make an already upset person even more so, and what is that going to lead to? The realization of everyone else that you are an asshole!

Musings on the American Dream and Other Fairy Tales

I am an old soul.

At least that is how I explain away my very wrinkly palms and feet. Maybe it is due to this old soul that I feel like I’ve accepted all the bull I can from people. I’m reaching middle-age (or have I passed it? I hope not) and I’m treading the waters of discontent like an unhappy cat who fell into the tub.

Here’s my chance to empty my brain into the blogosphere and make sense of it. If it helps you make sense of things too, then hooray! Maybe we can both sleep easier tonight.