I didn't truly realize how bad my relationship with the color green continues to be until I saw today's Stream of Consciousness Sunday prompt at Jana's Thinking Place.
Today's prompt:
What does green make you think of and how does it make you feel?
Little did sweet Jana know....
Granted, I look at different shades of green in different ways. For example, if teal is considered green, then I would have to tell you, “Ohmigawsh! I love green!” but if you are talking about the garden variety crayola green, I would have to say, “No. No thank you, I am not a green
Miss Wick, my kindergarten teacher, made a heinous mistake on the first day of kindergarten which did not start our relationship well. For my cubby label, she gave me a name tag that declared “Julie” in that crayola classic green. I almost started crying out, “I am not green, Miss Wick, you have mistaken me for my sister! I am pink! Any shade of pink or some yellows but never ever green!”
The truth is, Miss Wick probably wished I was more like my sister. Perhaps she thought if she gave me this crayola green label I would magically turn into the tomboy, outspoken, rough and tumble sister Sue rather than the deer-in-the-headlamp-quietly-stubborn and would-rather-sit-on-the-steps-and-watch-than-play-that-old-worn-out-game-with-the-likes-of-you.
It all started with that damn green cubby label screaming “Julie, I know you hate it but face the facts you are GREEN!”
There is a family legend about the 26 inch Schwin Breeze I received for Christmas in the third grade. I raced right past the thing to get to my stack of gifts. Mom said, “Julie, didn’t you see your bicycle?” I looked over my shoulder as I admired my new Velvet doll and said, dismissively, “Isn’t that for Sue?”
My Mom feels guilty about that moment still, forty years later.
The thing is, that shiny Schwin breeze with my name hand lettered in white paint clearly couldn’t be mine because it was green. Sue likes green. We have established here my thoughts about green. Worse than just crayola green, it was an unlikely cross between hunter green and olive green, if you can imagine that combination. There was no glitter, no basket, no beautiful shimmery qualities at all.
That is why I thought it was for my sister.
If my Mom took note of what I liked, she wouldn’t have bought me that bicycle that got stolen from my backyard several years later. I didn’t even care that much.
I know green is supposed to be about abundance and prosperity and health and all that, but for me, that green that people get all googly-eyed about does nothing for me. St. Patrick’s Day was tough because I rarely buy anything remotely green unless it crosses over into that blue green realm of teal.
You can only imagine how I feel when people call my blue eyes green. Images of Miss Wick and unwanted bicycles float before my eyes, unforgivingly. “My eyes are blue, thank you for not noticing.”
Confession: This post took slightly more than five minutes to write. Rants tend to do that.
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This was my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…
- Set a timer and write for 5 minutes.
- Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
- Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
- Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post (in the sidebar). .
- Link up your post at Jana's Thinking Place.
- Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.
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© 2013 by Julie Jordan Scott
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