It's common knowledge that i am an unlimited source of things to mock. Apparently, this also makes me an unlimited source of amusement. Sometimes this bothers me, sometimes it amuses me - it all just depends on how 'emo' (yes, i have been called 'emo' recently) my mood is at the time.
My name is a favourite - who knew that 'Annabel' was so easily mock-able? It quickly becomes 'Banana-bell', 'Anna-Smell', 'Tinkerbell', 'Belly'... and from my last name? You get 'Crank-sky', 'Krantzky-Kumar', 'Cranky-Krantzy'... i'm not so in love with the nicknaming brigade that storms through church once every few weeks to re-invent my name. But, when i'm in my happy place, i chose to see it as a term of endearment.
Yesterday, it was my hat. My cute, much-favoured but hardly-worn hat that i bought in England. I like wearing my hat, but haven't really used it in Australia, because i wasn't brave enough to do something a little different (and also, it usually squishes my curly hair). However, this week my hair is straight, so out came the hat. When i walked into church, i was greeted with exclamations like 'Hey, it's a little frenc girl!' and 'Oh, looks who's dressed up all european'... I assume that these comments were meant with kindness, but why can't people just accept my hat and i? If comments have to be made, couldn't they be positive ones? Rather than 'hey, she looks weird!'?
Then there's my apparently reputation for being unable to play sports. Granted, i'm hardly little miss athleticsism, but i played my fair share of netball and water-polo at school. I was never the star player, but i wasn't that bad! Yes, i know i fall over my feet lots, and i tend to be a little klutzy when it comes to kicking, but that doesn't warrant complete pay-out rights! Recently, people have taken to throwing things at me to see if i can catch them, or if i'll just present an amusing fumble - or merely get hit in the head. When i do manage to catch things (an event which is becoming more frequent), everyone seems incredibly suprised.
These things are little, just teasing. Granted, it adds up to a lot, but i just have to try and take it lightly. There are times, however, when people's little attacks on me get a little more personal.
People think that it's their duty to become 'supervisors' of my relationships. Given my appalling track record with maintaining any form of closeness with members of either sex, this is not an entirely unfounded concern. However, it's different when the comments come in the form of gentle help and when they come as cruel, unkind jokes. Most recently, it was one of the boys mocking my relationship with another boy, claiming that it's more than it looks. He knew it was a touchy subject with me, but decided to pursue it anyway, which hurt. He later apologised, but that's not the point.
I don't know why it is, but people do seem to like to mock me. Often, they realise that they've gone too far, and they apologise, but by this point the damage has already been done and i'm a little wounded. I'm really not sure what it is about me that attracts this kind of behaviour. I'm starting to think that it may be a genetically inherited disease? One can only hope that i don't pass it along to my children...
My name is a favourite - who knew that 'Annabel' was so easily mock-able? It quickly becomes 'Banana-bell', 'Anna-Smell', 'Tinkerbell', 'Belly'... and from my last name? You get 'Crank-sky', 'Krantzky-Kumar', 'Cranky-Krantzy'... i'm not so in love with the nicknaming brigade that storms through church once every few weeks to re-invent my name. But, when i'm in my happy place, i chose to see it as a term of endearment.
Yesterday, it was my hat. My cute, much-favoured but hardly-worn hat that i bought in England. I like wearing my hat, but haven't really used it in Australia, because i wasn't brave enough to do something a little different (and also, it usually squishes my curly hair). However, this week my hair is straight, so out came the hat. When i walked into church, i was greeted with exclamations like 'Hey, it's a little frenc girl!' and 'Oh, looks who's dressed up all european'... I assume that these comments were meant with kindness, but why can't people just accept my hat and i? If comments have to be made, couldn't they be positive ones? Rather than 'hey, she looks weird!'?
Then there's my apparently reputation for being unable to play sports. Granted, i'm hardly little miss athleticsism, but i played my fair share of netball and water-polo at school. I was never the star player, but i wasn't that bad! Yes, i know i fall over my feet lots, and i tend to be a little klutzy when it comes to kicking, but that doesn't warrant complete pay-out rights! Recently, people have taken to throwing things at me to see if i can catch them, or if i'll just present an amusing fumble - or merely get hit in the head. When i do manage to catch things (an event which is becoming more frequent), everyone seems incredibly suprised.
These things are little, just teasing. Granted, it adds up to a lot, but i just have to try and take it lightly. There are times, however, when people's little attacks on me get a little more personal.
People think that it's their duty to become 'supervisors' of my relationships. Given my appalling track record with maintaining any form of closeness with members of either sex, this is not an entirely unfounded concern. However, it's different when the comments come in the form of gentle help and when they come as cruel, unkind jokes. Most recently, it was one of the boys mocking my relationship with another boy, claiming that it's more than it looks. He knew it was a touchy subject with me, but decided to pursue it anyway, which hurt. He later apologised, but that's not the point.
I don't know why it is, but people do seem to like to mock me. Often, they realise that they've gone too far, and they apologise, but by this point the damage has already been done and i'm a little wounded. I'm really not sure what it is about me that attracts this kind of behaviour. I'm starting to think that it may be a genetically inherited disease? One can only hope that i don't pass it along to my children...
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