I was chatting with my dad about cars this morning. I told him sometime in the future i would like to drive a ute in khaki shorts and top from yakka with one of those australian sheep dog in the back  and then be able to blurt out 'BUGGER!' or 'CRIKEY' at a dead kangaroo in the outback.

My dad stared at me bewildered for a while, then said "Vania, thats hardly a girl thing to do. Why can't you be like other people's daughters i know?  You're so un-ladylike sometimes, no girls drive utes."

Wow, i cannot believe my fondness for utes indicates a low estrogen level. Why, is he going to think i'm gay if i cut my hair short? For those of you who have seen a childhood picture of me may know where my 'tomboy' tendencies came from. Too bad for my dad. I couldn't pull a jane austen, or look like those dashing silver screen actresses. Or reading Bronte in a chiffon skirt while rocking a cradle. 

Too bad i'm unladylike and cannot achieve a 99.95 like other 'daughters and sons' of our family friends, too bad i'm not ambitious like them, too bad i just simply stand out from this circle of 'elites'. If i have the option, i would go backpacking in Europe. No big cities with blinding lights. Just small towns and villages. Places where people are guileless, where love is the soul and spirit, and nobody has a steep mountain to climb nor has the insatiable hunger for material gain, personal successes and social acknowledgement. Places where nobody know who i am and just treat me like a lone wanderer, perhaps somewhere where i could be free from expectations. 

Then i'll come back and be a phony like everybody. And i'll drive a ute in my khaki.