I could've kicked Sally Draper's ass!
Oct. 8th, 2009 03:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lostakashaNot that she's a sour little turd or anything, but seeing as we're about the same age... I'm thinking Sally and I would have gotten into one nasty little schoolyard donnybrook.
I fit the profile of the tough little working-class kid with an Irish American dad who taught his little girl to make a fist when she was in diapers. And Sally Draper is a perfect example of the curdled middle-class brat with whom I would have mopped the playground floor. It would be the classic 'stable girl pulls the princess off the pony and rubs her face into a hot road apple' scenario.
Just to be clear -- I wasn't an instigator, but I think my dad got a kick out of teaching me to defend myself. I got in a few brawls but they were with boys, who learned pretty quickly not to tease me. I never got the 'if they push you into a snowbank and steal your boot, it just means they like you' logic. I still think about poor Bobby P, who did exactly that -- I followed him to his house (one rubber wellie on, one off, down the slushy street) and beat him until he cried for his mom. I grabbed his ears and bloodied his nose, and to this day I feel riddled with guilt because --wait for it -- thirty years later he was walking the train tracks, doing his job with a local RR, and was killed by a speeding train that he never heard coming. I didn't think I hit him hard enough to affect his hearing, but you never know.
Back to my fictionally violent tendencies:
And let's not extrapolate this any further, or look at what might happen when Sally Goes To College. You see where I'm going: State college chick (oh hai!) meets Wellesley women's studies major (because Betsy would want Sally to go to Wellesley or Sarah Lawrence), the state college punk teaches Wellesley about pot and ripped tights and becoming a cunning linguist *cough* while Wellesley Brings The Drama. Been there, done that. What??!
Wow. When everybody else is all hot and bothered about Don or when Betsy's gonna snap or how adorable VK is in his civvies with a bowl of cereal, I'm gimlet-eyed over class issues.
Clearly I need to be entertained. Anyone?
Happy Thursday!
I fit the profile of the tough little working-class kid with an Irish American dad who taught his little girl to make a fist when she was in diapers. And Sally Draper is a perfect example of the curdled middle-class brat with whom I would have mopped the playground floor. It would be the classic 'stable girl pulls the princess off the pony and rubs her face into a hot road apple' scenario.
Just to be clear -- I wasn't an instigator, but I think my dad got a kick out of teaching me to defend myself. I got in a few brawls but they were with boys, who learned pretty quickly not to tease me. I never got the 'if they push you into a snowbank and steal your boot, it just means they like you' logic. I still think about poor Bobby P, who did exactly that -- I followed him to his house (one rubber wellie on, one off, down the slushy street) and beat him until he cried for his mom. I grabbed his ears and bloodied his nose, and to this day I feel riddled with guilt because --wait for it -- thirty years later he was walking the train tracks, doing his job with a local RR, and was killed by a speeding train that he never heard coming. I didn't think I hit him hard enough to affect his hearing, but you never know.
Back to my fictionally violent tendencies:
And let's not extrapolate this any further, or look at what might happen when Sally Goes To College. You see where I'm going: State college chick (oh hai!) meets Wellesley women's studies major (because Betsy would want Sally to go to Wellesley or Sarah Lawrence), the state college punk teaches Wellesley about pot and ripped tights and becoming a cunning linguist *cough* while Wellesley Brings The Drama. Been there, done that. What??!
Wow. When everybody else is all hot and bothered about Don or when Betsy's gonna snap or how adorable VK is in his civvies with a bowl of cereal, I'm gimlet-eyed over class issues.
Clearly I need to be entertained. Anyone?
Happy Thursday!
