Footloose and Work-Free
Ya'll behave, now. I'll see you in May. And just so you don't worry about me too much, my itinerary is below.
Friday: Fly to Costa Rica
Stay
here (for the first few nights, anyway)
Saturday through Saturday: Lounge on beaches, see volcanoes, jungles, wildlife
Get a tan
Drink fun drinks (not made with water)
Write in my travel journal and think - but not too hard
Talk to interesting people
Sunday: Fly home
Ya'll Creative MoFos...Help!
I want/need to send in a bio to my high school for our reunion. Here's what I have thus far:
"After college in Milwaukee (that's in Wisconsin), I landed a job as a corporate whore in the insurance biz. I've been with the same company for the past five years, and they recently put me through grad school. I completed grad school this spring, earning my MBA. I average two international vacations a year and I make it back to NoDak about the same amount. No pets and no kids - means I did something right in a past life."
The end is a little weak...anyone wanna help me tweak it? Come on, I know you want to....
Minis
-- I'm beat. Very very tired. My eyes are hurting from staring at a screen all day. I got less than 6 hours of sleep. Ugh!
-- BBB is out this afternoon; I miss him. I'm busy - extremely busy - so it's good he's not around to bullshit with, but it's still...strange. He asked repeatedly yesterday what he'll do without me around next week. Maybe he'll grow some balls and ask me out when I return. :)
-- I have at least another 3 hours of work to go.
-- Due to the timing of my vacation and my sister/BIL's (to Turkey for two weeks), I won't actually talk to them for 23 days. That will be very, very strange. I talk to her at least once a day.
-- Time for a quick sugar fix.
-- My boss is finally preparing my reimbursement from school. Yay! That's another $2k I can expect back soon.
-- Also, I'll get another grand in July for graduation. Yeah!
Yay Me!
I came back to my desk and found a card and a $20 gift certificate! My mentee - New Girl - thanked me for "the help you've given me since I joined the division. You went out of your way to make sure all my questions were answered, as well as making sure I felt comfortable in my new role. For that I will always be grateful."
Yay! That $20 is valid at any number of places - I think I will cash it in to American Airlines, since I'm such a jetsetter, yo. :)
What the Hell?
Is wrong with me?
I found out tonight that what I thought I missed on Monday night doesn't actually happen until May 3rd. So, I'll still miss it, but at least not due to my own stupidity.
I didn't do laundry last night because I had no laundry detergent. I made a special stop tonight after more car shopping to get some. As I reach in the closet to get my dryer sheets,w hat do I see? Yep. Big ole orange bottle of Tide that I swear wasn't there yesterday. Even though that's where I always keep it.
I'm allllllllllllmost 28. This is far too young to lose my mind.
Syphilis *
I think it's syphilis where if you go untreated for so long, you go a little mentally crazy. For some reason that popped into my head today, when I thought of a comment to leave on someone's site. The comment made NO sense at all to anyone but me, and then only marginally.
A lot of times the comments I want to leave crack me up. I'm literally sitting at my desk, laughing heartily. But I don't leave those comments because I know no one else will ever understand the connection.
My stream of consciousness is so bizarre that while the route between A and B may be somewhat clear to me, I'm not so out of the loop as to think that others may follow it as well.
Sure, some of the comments I leave are funny in general, but it's the ones I don't leave that are really good.
* This title and word association is in no way indicative of my sexual health. Thanks for asking.
What Am I? - I'm a Japanese Eggplant
A quality speciman should be firm and dark-colored. Smooth, shiny skin is also a sign of a good piece.
You should avoid products that are soft and have blemishes or are otherwise discolored by marks. Older items are indicated by wrinkled and dull skin.
You guys take all the fun out of everything.
Gahhhh
Today's post will focus solely on Ex yet again.
Yeah, I know, get the fuck over it. Well, I am over it, in the sense that I'm over him. He strikes me now as a sappy goof. I'm still hurt by the past, but I'm not into him in that way anymore. But he still has the power to annoy the fuck out of me with his drooling over his girlfriend.
So, I haven't been contacting him lately, and that's been good. He emailed in Jan to say "happy holidays," I think I responded banally, end of story.
Well, since corresponding with ex-BFF about something in RedNeckVille, amd hearing how badly her life sucked, I sent that on to Ex. As I normally do.
He responded today. Good news! His gf got accepted to the grad program she wanted - one of only 13 people chosen out of 234325! (I'm making up the number because I refuse to read his email again. But yes, he gave me numbers.) 'They' are going to buy
her a condo (in addition to the condo where they live, which is under his name, but she lives there) because the program is at a school about 1.5 hrs away from their house. Um...okay. He's taking on another job to help support her. Um...okay. Must be nice to have your BOYFRIEND put you through school. Must be rough to have to NEED that kind of support.
He doesn't know I'm done with school. He doesn't know about my kickass raise or the accolades at work or my vacation. I don't think he needs to be privy to that information.
Today's his birthday; I have not yet wished him one, for the first time in FIVE years. Even though he wished himself one in his email.
Gah. I'm annoyed. Annoyed that he's putting so much of himself into helping her. And annoyed that he so willingly shares that.
I don't think I'll be responding at all. I'd love to write a very upbeat post, gloating - tactfully, of course - about all that is good in my life, and there's quite a bit. But I don't think he deserves to know.
He'd probably be genuinely happy for me, but...I don't want to know.
How to Piss a Peon Off
Give a Peon shitty directions so she drives around for an HOUR AND A FREAKING HALF. Only do this when there's someplace she really really wants to go and has been really looking forward to it and she gets to work early so she can leave early to make it there in time. Make sure Peon stops twice for directions that don't help one single fucking iota.
Half-assedly read the recipe so that Peon heats up oil in a pan and then adds COOKING SHERRY. Do not tell Peon to think it through first or to stand back
or to turn on the goddamn fan.
Unscrew the knob on the cabinet that holds the oil so that it will come off in Peon's hand.
Send Peon the first magazine in a gift subscription to a cooking magazine that Momma Peon signed Peon up for. Inclose a bill.
Make sure that Peon has only TWO alcoholic drinks in the house. Make sure she has bottles and bottles of mixes but no alcohol to mix with them.
Make sure that all the driving around will ensure Peon gets home too late to reasonably start laundry.
Champagne Dreams and Beer Budgets
When it comes to cars, I'm all about something little and sporty. Right now, I drive an 11yr-old Saturn SC1 - the 2door coupe. It's small and it zooms. Well, it would zoom if it didn't have that little leak problem we've talked about before. I bought her used and have put a good 70k miles on her in under 6 yrs (just about riding the average of 12k/year). She has a tape player and cruise control, something my first car (this is only my 2nd) didn't have. She's not quite ghetto, but she's trying hard.
So, I'm all about moving up. Hell, I'm going to pay enough, I should, right? My next car must have a CD player, power everything, and a sunroof. Rear wipers and spoilers are top on the list, too. I won't get anything older than an '03 - possibly an '02, but that's debatable, and I'm about 98% leaning towards a 2door.
I love the look of the
Hyundai Tiburon, but the one I sat in on Saturday seemed really small. I'm going to try another, though.
I test drove a
Mitsubishi Eclipse, but that has a pretty bad blind spot due to the really teeny rear windows. Uh-uh. Plus, though I'm not a tall person, my legs were too long for it. Could I deal? Yeah, but I don't really want to.
I sat in some of the newer
Honda Civics, but those too seemed small.
Um...I like the
Toyota Celicas. I think I like the 4door
Mazda3s (thanks
PM), but those are a) 4door and b) I haven't seen one in person.
I might seriously look at
Mustangs - always loved 'em.
No convertibles - doesn't make sense to me, since I'm apartment bound - too risky.
So, the search continues...And if I do say so myself, this is one of the duller posts I've written in quite some time. Yay for mediocrity!
Weekend Crap
Had fun looking at cars with BBB yesterday. Didn't find any I love, though, so I'm still looking. I hate the research part of making big purchases.
He seems to think I need a car
now; something about my current ride burning oil. Hmph. And while he's right that if I take my car in for any sort of check-up, they'll find about $2000 worth of needed repairs...well, I get around that by not taking my car in. Problem solved, right?
He did tell me I look 16. Fucker. I tried to bargain up to at least 17, but I don't think he bought it.
He's a strange one, that man. We talked about his reluctance to marry work relationships with personal relationships, yet we spend quite a bit of time together outside of work. And he offered to teach me to drive a stick (insert randy joke here), something I'm not comfortable enough with to buy a manual drive.
Whatever. Vacation will be good; I need to distance myself.
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Ran random errands today: bought trashy novels for vacation (yay for used books at the local library for $.50 each); got my prescriptions in order; took a long, yummy nap; paid lots of bills.
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Saw 'The Wedding Date' today. Eh. Almost worth the $2 I paid. Dermot Mulroney is a snack.
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I've commissioned a painting from
Kate. It's the monster with a cupcake on her arting blog and will guard my kitchen. I'm very excited about it; it will be 11 x 15 and in pinks and oranges. Yay!
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I'm dreading these next few days; the week before vacation is always hard at work. My tolerance is pretty thin these days, but I just need to keep it in check for four more days. Four long days; expect many
peeves.
Oh, Baby
I dreamt last night that I had a baby. I don't remember the labor part, but I remember that my breasts were very, very full - my nipples were long and distended and spurting milk, and my breasts heavy. Very strange. I mean, I know you have milk, that part's not strange, just strange for me.
I remember mom brought out a baby blanket she had purchased for the low, low price of $2700. Sister and I were amazed and astounded, til mom realized she misspoke and it was a $27.00 blanket. Ah, mom.
I remember holding a baby - a teeny, tiny baby - all warm and cuddly - and feeling this intense, fierce love. God, it felt good. It felt amazing, actually - so protective and strong a bond, so...god, I'm crying.
I've never wanted kids of my own. Never. And I'm not saying I want them now.
But...I want
something.
I really like my last post. You may not know what it means, but it means something to me. And so it is with great sadness that I need to move it down the page for a new BBB funny.
I was at his desk, leaning over his shoulder, looking at something on his computer screen (which I think he purposely keeps at
teeny tiny font so I have to lean closer). We're spending tomorrow looking at cars for me and motorcycles for him. When I asked him what time, he said...
"Whenever you roll over."
I laughed so frickin hard. I walked out of the aisle and smack into my boss. He came after, trying to explain what he meant. I said, "Hey, it's cool, I don't have plans tonight." (Actually, I do, but I would change them if it meant waking up next to him.)
So, yeah. Funny. Well, at least to me, and if I've said it once, I've said it a bazillion times - that's what this site is about. Mememememe!
Redundancy, Again
Wanna know a secret? I'll tell you one.
Well, actually, I won't. I'll just hint at it. Over, and over, and over again. To you. And to
you. And you, over there, scratching your balls while you read this. And to you, in the red shir that's too tight (seriously, it is).
I know you already know, but...I find it necessary to mention it, again, and again, and again.
I must want attention. Or perhaps congratulations. Or maybe I want everyone to know so they'll back off and realize
I won, and not someone else. Maybe I just want to brag.
It's sweet, to a point. It's desperate, to a point.
And it's annoying as fuck.
As the Blog Turns...
....moving now from the delightful scene of SingleVille and the surrounding towns of Marriage and Realistic Expectations...
I loved reading what everyone had to say about the prior two posts. Marriage, single, dating, we can't define those and what they mean, but we can express ourselves. Thanks for doing so.
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I heard a really interesting speech yesterday. It was titled 'Wills & Skills,' and it was given by someone who used to be my boss's boss.
The speaker started out by telling us we are employees in one of the biggest - if not THE biggest - IT shops in the area. We're major league, folks. Big time ball game here. And while we each may have been the best of the best in our previous lives, the company as a whole has such good people that we're now each average. (You following? It's not as depressing as I made it seem. You take a big fish in a small pond and put him with other big fishies, and everyone is now on par with each other.)
So, how do we 'compete' with each other? How do we, as a company, compete? Two ways: Wills and Skills.
Wills being our attitudes. Skills being our talents.
I don't think I'm particularly talented at what I do. Sure, there are some requirements of my job that I possess skills in. I'm extremely diplomatic, I communicate well, and I form relationships and coach/mentor well. That's all very important in my role. But any scmuck can have those skills.
So how is it that I get ahead, and get recognized often, and am so well respected?
Yep. It's my attitude. I have a 'can-do' attitude. I'm not all 'rah rah rah,' I'm not a kiss ass, and I don't have unrealistic expectations, but I'm cheerful and helpful and willing*. And that goes a long way.
However, there's a difference between having a good attitude and having others perceive you have a good attitude. I definitely fake it a lot of the time. I know that I can't be all negative and unhelpful and derogatory at work, if I want to get anywhere, so I'm not. But do I believe the positive-ness I spread? Eh, to a point. But again, a lot of it is faked.
There's a matrix model to look at: high skills, high wills - upper right quadrant. Low skills, low wills - bottom left quadrant. I see myself in the low skills high wills section - upper left quadrant.
Not to say I'm not skilled - I am. But I can't rely solely on my skills; there's a lot I don't know. 'Low' might be a relative term; the speaker yesterday equated it to having average skills (back to the fish pond). I rely on my attitude - my
will - to complement my skills and push me to above average status.
Total value of an employee is the sum of attitude plus skills (per this speaker). Interesting concept.
* This statement is true at least 90% of the time. I'm not perfect, ya know.
Understandable, Part 2
Back when Ex was just a friend, we had some in-depth conversations about his relationship with his previous relationship with S. Ex said that at some point, the spark had faded, as it always does.
Wait. What? The spark fades? I don't want that. Does it always fade? How come? What are you left with when it does?
Well, apparently, the spark always fades. You settle into a routine of being comfortable, but the initial desire and attraction simmers down. It might still exist, but the urgency is no longer there. This happens with any long-term relationship, just due to nature and time and, well, life. Hopefully, when you've found that the spark is now a glowing ember and not a fire-starter, you're left with friendship, love, respect, contentment, and appreciation.
Is that true? I don't know. I haven't had any relationships that lasted long enough to find out. I do know that I don't want it to be true; I don't know if that's reasonable.
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Ex always called me out on being a pessimist. Well, he didn't really call me out on it, because I've never denied it. He, of course, was/is a goddamn optimist. And while I do believe there's some logic to my thought process about needing/wanting someone...I'm also very very afraid that I will talk myself into being single forever. Not that there are all that many options out there right now, but I do worry that I will convince myself I don't need anyone and will thus never search for anyone. I don't want that. At the same time...I'm very very afraid to open up to anyone. You read me; I'm alternately full of shit and full of doubt, and I'm always insecure and guarded. I don't expect anyone 'real' to want to deal with that, but I can't change so someone will want to.
So...where does that leave me?
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I've mentioned before, I believe, my non-desire - nay, my abject fear - of having kids. If it were feasible to use Norplant, the pill, and condoms at the same time, I'd still have the guy pull out. Kids and Peons don't mix. But...I'd like to be in love with someone to even have that option.
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Maybe I'm hopeless because I see this as a no-win situation. I can't be something I'm not, but I can't fathom finding someone for who I am. And around and around we go...
Understandable
Excerpt from an IM conversation with a friend tonight. You'll notice I don't use capitals when IM'ng.. Good thing I was online, or this might not have taken place:
Friend: Your reality is that you need to jump BBBs bone.
KtP: sigh. i know. but, since that won't happen...i need to move on
F: Is it really just about work, why you won't?
KtP: for me...no. but that's a big piece
F: Why else?
KtP: i'm scared.
F: Normal scared, or scared of something specific (like a huge schlong)?
KtP: lol
KtP: right now, it's fun and flirty and light hearted
F: Ah, scared of the inevitable loss of it being fun and flirty and light hearted.
KtP: are you mocking me?
F: Not at all. But it's kind of silly that it inevitably goes away, right?
KtP: does it?
F: Not necessarily.
KtP: i'm afraid it would. and i'm afraid of having to open up
F: Yeah. Serious question: How long do you think you can go before you have to open up to somebody?
KtP: forever
F: Really? You don't see yourself ever needing someone else in your life?
KtP: sigh. the truth is that i don't see myself ever needing someone in my life because i don't see myself ever having someone in my life
F: But you want someone in your life. Wouldn't that necessitate being able to see someone in your life?
KtP: that's kind of it, though. i want someone, but i don't see someone in that role, so i manage to do a decent job of convincing myself that i don't want someone
F: I don't think you're all that convincing.
KtP: shrug. depends on the day
F: You sound hopeless.
KtP: sometimes, i feel that way. i dont' want to get my hopes up about finding anyone, because if i don't, then...i'm devastated. if i say i don't want anyone, then if i don't find anyone...that's the expected result. if i DO find someone, then it's a pleasant surprise
F: There's a difference between actual hopelessness and not having high expectations
KtP: is there?
F: You don't think so?
KtP: i think there is, but i don't think i have low expectations. i'm not willing to accept anyone
F: No, I'm not saying you have low expectations, I'm saying you have no hope whatsoever.
KtP: why get my hopes up for something that might never happen and just disappoint me?
F: Because I think there's also a difference between 'no hope whatsoever' and just plain 'hope' KtP: i dont' want to be disappointed. i don't want to get excited about another guy who turns out to be bullshit. i don't want to let my guard down again for another guy who fucks me over. I know they're not all like that, but...
F: I think if you try to put some limitation on an expectation (whether it's a high or low expectation doesn't matter) such as, "I will meet Mr. Perfect by June," then it's easy to be hopeless. I think if you have no limitation on when you meet someone great (for example), then you can still have some little bit of hope.
KtP: and in the meantime, i'm sizing everyone up, wondering if they will be that someone great, and perhaps allowing myself to fall for one of them, and perhaps getting hurt. again. i can't do that.
KtP: i just...can't. Am I thrilled with this? No, of course not. Do I feel I 'need' to do this, to be this way? Yeah. Am I afraid it's a self-fulfilling prophecy? Daily. Am I afraid of this topic in general? Daily. There's more to say on this, but that's all for now.
Mmm Mmm Good - Updated
I actually wrote my 'good day' post last night, and it's apparent I was already gearing up for a good day today.
Talked to BBB this morning; he seemed down. We discussed that for a minute or two, then, when appropriate...I asked if he wanted to hear something that would make him laugh.
KtP: I dreamt about you last night.
BBB: (Big grin, laughs)
KtP: There were bunk beds involved. And sorority girls.
BBB: Oh realllllly?
KtP: Crap, I've got a meeting to go to.
BBB: Riiiight.
(Later)
KtP: I didn't mean to run off before, just wasn't sure how much you wanted to hear. (Grins)
BBB: Mmm hmm. I've got to go to Walgreens at lunch.
KtP: (Gives him a look)
BBB: (Laughs) No, not for that.
I haven't told him yet that I was on top...but I will.
(Left work early and ran an errand with BBB. He followed me to my place, I dropped my car off and rode with him. As I got out of the car, he says...)
BBB: Oh, and you know I want to hear about this dream.
KtP: (Puts arms on open car window, leans in) I was on top
BBB: Oh, so I wasn't on the top of the bunk bed?
KtP: Oh, you were. And I was on top of you.
BBB: (Pause) You must have some vivid dreams.
KtP: Mmmm hmmm (grins and winks)
BBB: (Laughs...starts to say something, but stops. Shakes his head and laughs) I'll see you tomorrow.
I cannot want him any more than I do.
Who here is sick of me saying that? Cuz I sure as hell am...
Good Random News
Federal tax refund came yesterday - whoo hoooo!!! We switched to a bi-monthly pay schedule last week, and with rent due while I'm on vacation, I was a little concerned that I'd be strapped. This takes all that fear away.
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There was an issue that came up at work on Friday afternoon in relation to one of my projects. It pissed me off, b/c it was thought to be an issue from my team, and I don't like that. We had a meeting yesterday morning and it turns out we - my team - was right. Yay!
I am a firm believer at work that it's not 'us' [systems] against 'them' [business], that we're all on the same team, blah blah blah. But, I'm still very glad that it turned out to be an issue on THEIR side, not mine, and that it means we don't need to make changes.
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I took a walk/run yesterday after work. Meaning, I ran for about 30 seconds and walked the rest. I'm trying.
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I haven't had a smoke since Friday night. Goddamnit.
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Cooking Light came yesterday. Lately, I haven't found many interesting sounding recipes in there, but I found a ton in this issue. I'm definitely going to pull pages, make a grocery list, and cook. Some of the desserts I'll bring into work - there's a mango cobbler-type one that looked great.
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My apartment is super clean, since the folks were down yesterday.
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I joined a beginners running class. I'm afraid.
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It's sunny out and with all this good news, I WILL have a good day. Perception and determination have to count, right?
Dear _____,
Today I deleted all your old emails from my work folders. That's right - a-l-l your emails to me are now gone.
The one where you gave me your work number? Gone. The one where you made special birthday plans with me? Gone. The one where you asked about my family and wished me well? Gone. And all the other notes from you that hurt me when they didn't intend to, or that hurt me when you meant to, or that were your attempts at friendship long after that was possible...they've all been deleted.
I've hated you for a while now. Hated that you left, hated that I didn't have a chance, hated that you lied. Hated that I gave in when I didn't want to, that I settled, even for a moment.
This deletion was a long time coming. It was physically painful to see how many notes from you I had kept; how many pseudo-friendly-after-the-fact emails I had, how many intimate-before-the-fact emails I had saved.
So, to you, Ex - be gone. To you, Asshole Liar with-a-yellow-bedroom - fuck off. To you, Guy-who-wrote-me-stories - get away.
I won't be needing you anymore.
Emulation
There's a scene in 'Heathers' that I'm reminded of. Dad & Veronica are sitting on the deck/veranda, and dad is, say, reading a spy novel.
Dad: Will someone tell me why I read these stupid spy novels?
Veronica: Cuz you're an idiot.
Dad: Oh yeahhhhhh...that's it!
Scene is repeated with dad asking why he eats pate, and I think one other iteration.
So, with that reference...
Will someone please tell me why the fuck I keep doing something stupid? Why? Seriously? I know it's stupid; I do it anyway; I say, "Boy, Self, that was stupid. Why'd you do that? Now you feel like shit."
And yet...I do it again.
Jesus. What a fucking idiot.
_____ On My Mind
I've written things in the past that have resulted in people - readers - to tell me to move on, to stop it, to grow up and get over it. What those folks don't understand is that a lot of times I'm not lamenting what wasn't, or isn't, but I'm thinking through it. It is possible to remember and evaluate without regretting. (That's a statement, not a question.) So, yeah. Maybe I do rehash things at times, but what happened in the past is what makes me in the future. Sometimes I can't look back too early. Sometimes I need to look back in order to learn. Most always, I need to look back in order to heal. My family says I've always done things at my own pace; they say I can't be rushed, that when I'm ready, and only when I'm ready, will I do things. I walked, talked, rode a bike, whistled...much later than the 'norm,' so I guess there's some truth to what they say. So, keep that in mind, next time I start telling how some guy hurt me or got away from me or how someone upset me. I might very well be over and past it, but that doesn't mean I don't remember it.
Blog Meet Part 3429.6
Last night I met up with
Lois Lane &
Random Aimee. Now, ya'll know I've met Aimee before, I so won't get into my impressions of her. She's Aimee. Big laugh, big smile, cute dimples.
Lois surprised me - she wasn't what I expected at all. Not sure why I expected more of a dowager (sorry, L), but she's not that at all. In fact, she's darn right adorable.
We had a good dinner where we laughed a lot. Sometimes at each other, sometimes at ourselves. We talked about...
Cow eyeballs (Aimee's a big fan)
Pussy-eating frogs (also a fave of Aimee's)
Leaving condoms on people's blogs (Freudian slip, honest...or
was it?)
Art (clowns are bad, monsters are good)
Bloggers (who we know, who we don't, who we read)
Santa Claus and our favorite packages
Pastries (Doughnuts = good, kinishes = good but messy)
...Just to name a few.
Lois is smart and funny and has a very quick wit. She also has a very big heart. It's a damn good combination and I will definitely be reading her more often.
And a good time was had by all.
Sigh. Today started out so well.
Had an easy but productive morning at work. Went to lunch with a friend at a new place. It was yummy and she paid. Got back to the office to check mail before a 1pm mtg - after which I was planning to skip out - and found fires.
I take pride in doing a good job. People who work with me know I care and know I try to do well. When issues are found on my projects - issues AFTER we've implemented - it bothers me. If we find issues during the project lifecycle, well hell - that's why we test and ask questions and have inspections.
But AFTER we've done all that? Uh huh. Not. Having. It.
So, yeah. Some production issues were found on one of my projects. Granted, this wasn't my project from the beginning, and it's been...
challenging, to pick it up part way. Granted, these weren't issues
I could have found. Granted, these aren't
major issues - hell, it's only insurance.
But still, it shot my good mood and my afternoon to shit.
Alright. I still have things to do before I skeedaddle, change out of my hot pink kitten heels, and go meet Aimee and Lois for dinner.
Sin City
What a gory, violent, bloody, gory, gross, cringe-inducing movie. Good thing I had a big strong warm-blooded man sitting next to me to protect me.
Dear ______
I feel as if this letter might stir things up a bit - make a mountain of a molehill - but as usual, I can't help but address what is bothering me. Do you wish I wouldn't? Do you wish I held back? It's funny, asking that, because in actuality, I do hold back quite a bit. Maybe just not enough, or maybe too much. Whatever. This isn't the point.
The point is, I'm not going to change for you. I won't. I have my reasons for doing what I do, and it's really not my concern if you don't like them. I don't know if you're leaving is because of me, or because of other reasons, as I don't get an explanation. But the fact that it's happened more than once leads me to believe it's because of me.
I don't know what the issue is. Well, I mean, I do know, but I don't understand why it's an issue. Why is it such a big deal to you? Why does it matter?
I would be sad if this was the reason we stopped talking. But I wouldn't be sad enough to change.
I have a new workcrush. His name is Craig. I don't know what he looks like or how old he is - he works for our subsidiary in Northern Ireland.
I called him just now - it's almost 7pm his time - and when he answered, I said I had hoped I got his voicemail, for his sake. He offered to hang up, if that would help. Okay, it was funny at the time.
There are other small, random examples of why I like him - besides the fact that he knows what he's doing, he does it well, and he's pleasant to work with - but they'd all lose their flavor in writing.
Why do I fall for unavailable men? Is it intentional? I'm afraid to ask.
I Have Nothing to Say
But I really didn't want that crappy post about an idiot up at the top anymore. Have a great Wednesday, folks.
Welcome Home - J
It's weird to say that J is such a racist redneck homophobe, b/c while he is, he's also sweet at times. I know, not related. He bought a mattress/boxspring so I wouldn't have to sleep on the couch. He did laundry specifically so I'd have clean sheets and towels. He bought lunch out and I don't think I paid for a drink the entire time.
He's also a slut. When I gave him shit for fucking a 21yr old, he told me about the 18yr old he's trying to hit. He & Tree told me many, many stories about passing a girl to the other once he's done with her. J's 'standards,' such as they are, are that any prospective fuck must be a) Between 18 and 36 yrs of age, b) Be no bigger than he is (eh...5'11", 180? He's a scrawny fuck), and c) Must be willing. Real discriminatory.
No, I don't approve, but I'm trying to make myself understand that I don't need to. It's hard.
J is also self-absorbed. He didn't ask me a single question about myself or my family, and I really hope he realizes it when his mother asks him about me. Does he know where I work? No. What I do? No. That I finished grad school? No. That I'm single, live in an apt, have no pets? No. My sister asked me if I called him on this, but I didn't; to me, if I have to bring it up, there's no point in doing so.
J also calls every female hon, sweetie, babe. I
hate that. If we're dating, and you call me that, I'll melt. If we're friends, and you call me that, I'll like it. It makes me feel cared for. If you don't know me at all, then don't call me such names. It's degrading and sexist and it's J's way of trying to fuck everything that walks.
J didn't get up to see me out of his house. Did I have everything, want a soda for the road, know where I'm going? Nope, he'd stayed in bed with Tonia.
I used to think of J as an older brother. I've always had one or two special guy friends who look out for and after me and will kick ass if any guy fucks with me. J's no longer in that role, and I'm glad.
Welcome Home - Saturday Night
We got to the bar around 11, knowing it would be a late night for us. We had tiki torches and the keg all ready to go back at the house.
Back to one of the college bars - this time, one of J's good friend's gfs came out with us. She was 30 and a lot of fun, and I was so glad to have someone else with us. She actually reminded me a lot of Nanner - Robin was such a beautiful girl. Long, straight blonde hair, great teeth, beautiful smile, killer sense of humor, and an accent...yep, maybe I liked her just for her similarities to Nanner!
The beer gardens were open and a decent cover band was playing, so it was a pretty good time out. We left at close and went back to the house. After-hours, dontcha know! I can't touch on all of the weirdness from the party - there were too damn many - so here are a few:
There is - or was - a tree stump in J's backyard, just off the deck. The guys decided to take an ax to it. Then a chainsaw.
Then they lit the fucking thing on fire.
Nothing like a bonfire at 3am on a warm summer night.
------
There were 4 girls there besides me. One had a bf, one was J's hoochie; one we'll call Brandy, and one we'll call Tricia.
Well, Tricia was being hit on by two of the guys. She ended up fucking one of them. First in the bathroom, then in MY room. I was pissed. I interrupted early on and told them to get the fuck out, but that didn't work. Then I told them to stay the fuck off my bed and out of my things.
That worked. How do I know?
Well, the guys went around the house and looked in the window at them. There they were, going at it on the floor.
Well, that, and the video camera that was recording in the room guaranteed it, too.
-----
Tonia & Brandy & I were out on the deck, talking with the guys. Tonia ended up flashing the boys; Brandy held back. She was afraid that she'd offend me. I told her I've seen tits before. Shocking, no?
Well, Brandy wasn't easy. Oh no. She had her rules. Someone had to name a Quad City (where she's from) before she'd flash. Yep, saw her tits too.
I refused requests to show my own tits. I know, that is actually shocking.
-----
When LoveChild (seriously, that's his nickname) and Tricia came out of my room around 6am, he took one look at me and knew I was pissed.
So, he tried to give me a hug.
"Hell no! Don't you dare touch me. I know where your hands have been." He said he'd be offended but that actually insulted Tricia more. "I don't give a fuck who that offends, your hands will not touch me."
-----
I fucked with the drunk boys quite a bit. Ah, yes, drunk boys. Sometimes it's
so fun to pick on drunk peeps. These were not the smartest guys around, either, so it was really easy.
-----
There was a duck calling contest.
-----
Good times? Well, I wouldn't go quite that far.
Shorty
On the drive up yesterday, there was a series of signs posted along the highway:
Crooks are many / Cops are few / Crooks carry guns / Why can't you?
The website listed was gunsavelife.com. Well, that's what I remember the website as. It's actually not it, and I'll probably never know.
Welcome Home - The Good & the Random
The rest of the night was fine; we got back to J's house and his hoochie was there. Even though he had told ME she wasn't going to spend the night, he didn't exactly tell her that. And, she has a key - even though she's not his gf. Whatever, dude.
Saturday, we all slept in and got a much later start than I wanted. We drove around the old haunts - yeah, Tonia came with, though I specifically don't recall inviting her - and we had lunch out at a local pub.
After that, I dropped J & T off and went on my way to
Jamie's. I got to see her be a nurse to her oldest, and a dead-mouse-checker for her youngest, and got to have the only 'real' conversation of the weekend.
Once back from Jamie's, I took a nap. I knew the plans for that night were an after-hours party at the house. After-hours meaning, after the bars close. After-hours meaning, starting at 2am. Yeah.
It was going to be a long fucking night.
-----
As I looked through J's senior yearbook and all the faces that I once knew and called my friends, a funny thing happened. I finished looking through the book from the front; this time, I started from the back.
The yearbooks always have a section for ads from local businesses, and where families can send a little 'congrats' note to their offspring. On one of the pages, there was such a family 'ad' from my old BFF's sister; one ad from my old BFF's parents; and one ad from my old BFF.
BFF's ad accompanied a picture of us, circa 7th grade - dressed as hippies, probably before one of her Halloween parties. Her ad said: "Someone would laugh or say something you used to say, and suddenly you're in my thoughts. Even though you're 1000 miles away, you still make me smile. P.E.A.S & Love"
That signoff was an internal thing among our hippyish group - Peaceful Environmentally Aware Skaters. Cringe. At any rate, I cried and I smiled when I read that. Though I didn't like who she had become the last time we saw each other, I was still touched, and I've emailed her to let her know.
Welcome Home - The Ugliest Part of All
** Just to avoid confusion, J's thoughts/'explanations' are in red. These are NOT my views, so slam me for them and I'll beat your punk ass. My comments back to J are in blue; my editorial comments here are in black. Now, on with the story. **
Earlier in the day, when J, Tree & I had been drinking, J used the n-word.
THE n-word. I raised my eyebrows at it but didn't comment.
As we sat at the second bar, I decided - perhaps foolishly - to bait him. I mentioned that there was a coworker of mine who I really wanted - a big, black guy.
This time, J's eyebrows raised. He asked if the racial slurs earlier bothered me, and I said they did. He then proceeded to tell me that
in Spanish, the word for black is 'negro,' or something similar. I'm not looking that up, b/c I don't care to lend support to his argument, which
was that the pronunciation of that equaled the n-word, and therefore made it okay."J, we're not talking Spanish here."He then proceeded to tell me that
if a white person is in a predominately black neighborhood, the cop will pull him over even if nothing has been done wrong. If a white person is in a bad neighborhood, it's either b/c a) she's lost, or b) she's buying dope. It's the cop's job to get that white person out of there, because if that white person gets raped, mugged, carjacked, etc etc, she'll bitch 'where were the cops?' and blame them for not saving her. I was stunned, and retorted that
it is not a cop's job to play vigilante, and if I'm in a bad neighborhood, perhaps it's because I WANT to be there for some reason the cops have no fucking business knowing, and if anything bad happens to me, perhaps it's my own goddamn fault.There's also a reason there are so many black men in jail. It's because the n-word designates a group of people who lie, cheat, steal, kill, rape their own. Well, you know what? People like that exist in every fucking racial category there is. If someone's a murderer, call them a murderer. There's no need to pull the n-word into this. Oh, and racial profiling? That's some bullshit the fucking Democrats came up with and it doesn't exist.J was a St. Louis cop for a time, and proceeded to tell me some of the shit he saw hap
pen there. I didn't deny that he's seen some nasty shit, but that doesn't mean an entire race is to blame. I don't remember much more of the conversation, which is fine by me. It's a good thing I hadn't been drinking anymore. I told him repeatedly that we were not going to change the others' mind/views, so let's agree to disagree and leave it at that, but he wasn't having it.
After one of my retorts, J told me I was wrong. Yeah. I'm learning this is one of my hot buttons.
So my thoughts and opinions are WRONG? Yes. You can't tell me that. You can disagree, but you can't tell me my opinions are WRONG. Yes, I can. Do you want to know why they're wrong? No, J, actually I don't. Well I'm going to tell you. At this point, I grabbed my smokes, my lighter, and my phone.
J, I am going outside right now for some fresh air. When I come back, we will talk about anything other than this topic. This is done. I went outside, called a friend, and I cried.
I know prejudice exists. I've just never dealt with it this upfront before. I don't need or want my friends to hold the exact same beliefs I do. But, when it comes to determining a person's worth by the color of their skin...yeah, we damn well better be of like mind on this if you want to be friends. What I'm trying to say, and not doing a good job of - is that this is the first time someone I consider a friend has shown such - to me- disgusting views.
Even now, as I write this, I'm stunned. Stunned that someone I've cared about can so firmly believe something is right, that I just as firmly believe is wrong.
I don't feel I'm writing this well; I really
don't want people to cater to my beliefs; I really
do want people to have their own. Let's debate them if you want, but please be willing to listen - truly listen - to what I have to say. I'm going to try to give you the same courtesy.
I can't write this anymore.
Welcome Home - The Good, the Bad, & the Very, Very Ugly
During my 6-hr drive up here today, I gave some thought as to
how to write about this weekend. Topically? Person-by-person? I think, however, it will be easiest to write it chronologically and fill in the blanks as they happened.
(Background: I drove to see J, a friend from my youth, in my old hometown this weekend. This was the first time I had seen J or the town in 13yrs)
So, here goes:
I got to J's place around 6pm and found his friend, Tree, sitting on the deck. The boys were drinking and I joined right in. Almost immediately, the talk turned sexual and I learned that J - who's 29 - is sleeping with a 21yr old we'll call Tonia. J doesn't particularly like Tonia, but he won't get rid of her until/unless he has a backup in place. Tonia is apparently bad in bed - as Tree could, and did, also testify to - but has big tits.
That was my first clue that it was going to be a long friggin weekend.
The three of us bantered for a bit; they're both funny guys, and we gave each other shit like we had always hung out together.
** Cut to the bar, or the 'ugly' part of this series **
The bar we went to is a college bar in a very very very BIG university town. Which meant it was a meat market.
There were girls there, the likes of which I could not believe. HOT. Hotter than hot. So much eye candy that my retinas got cavities. And the clothes they wore - oh. my. god. Tiny tops. BOOBY shirts. Low cut pants. Teeny tiny skirts. Kitten heels.
So many of the girls still had that 'baby fat' look to them, but the majority were entirely edible. J drooled (okay, I did a little too), and he & I people watched and kibbitzed and drank. That part was fun.
However, it was also depressing - how do average girls in that town get a guy? There was such obvious jockeying for position next to the pretty girls among the boys.
Now, don't get me wrong - I didn't want any of those guys - but apparently, if you're not a size 8 or smaller, you're SOL. The competition was amazingly fierce, and I felt like the ugliest wallflower possible. It was a fascinating scene for a couple hours, but it was also a bit demoralizing.
** Cut to the next bar **
We left the busy bar and went to a very low-key place. That's where the trouble started.
Home Again, Home Again
Yep. I made it back 'home' safe and sound. This weekend gave me a LOT to think on and write about, so things may be coming pretty quickly on this site for the next few days.
In short, let me just say that there was drinking, and a chainsaw, and drinking, and tits, and drinking, and fire, and sex in MY room (in my friend's house) that did NOT involve me, and drinking, and underage hotties, and drinking, an argument, a drunk phone call, drinking, and drinking.
More later. My pizza will be here soon, and I'm beat. Oh, and my left arm is sunburned.
It's good to be home.
Memories
When I was 13, maybe 14, my friend Jeff got into some argument via snail-mail with a girl he had been seeing. As we were teenagers, we thought it'd be fun if I wrote a scathing letter to her.
Yep. I wrote a nasty, bitchy letter to someone I barely knew about a situation that wasn't mine.
Ahem.The girl, Steph, wrote back, and we continued in that vein for a few more letters.
I'm seeing Jeff on Friday for the first time in 13 years. I sure hope he's grown up a little.
I sure hope I have.
-----------------
I'm nervous about going back. Home. Is it home? It's where I grew up, but it's no longer home. Since leaving, I've had a hard time answering 'where are you from?' Where I'm from isn't where I am now. That's where I physically grew up, but mentally, emotionally...
that took place in NoDak.
All my childhood memories revolve around this place. The good, the bad, the atrocious. I can't wait to drive the roads I've never driven.
I can see so many things so clearly. The small Dairy Queen on the strip, next to the rundown movie theater. Ruthies, near the college supply store, where we'd shop for prom dresses. The wall at the high school, where I used to make out with Ex. Carrie's house, where my going away party was held. The hill on Giant City Road that made my stomach jump when we crested it.
I'm not looking to redo things. I am looking to relive things a little, in the hopes that the good memories purge the bad. I'm looking to move on.
----------------
Update on grad school completion: Came into work this am and found balloons and a card from a good friend/coworker. Another coworker gave me a cute 'graduation bear' pen and a little 'Class of 2005' keychain. I also had a really nice voicemail from my boss's boss.
Nice to be liked. :)
On Your Knees, Bitch
That's right. It's time to worship me. Throw your praise on me, lavish me with kind words. Butter me up until I could bathe in it.
Why? What do you mean,
why? You need a reason to cloak me in compliments? Fine. I'll give you a reason.
I'm done with grad school. Yep, that's right. I'm
done. 100% done. Even all paid for, if you can believe it. I am 27yrs old and the proud owner of a brand-new MBA.
It took me four years part-time, maintaining a full-time job the entire time.
All told, I've shelled out about $10,000 out-of-pocket for my degree; the company paid the rest. It's a private school, hence the price-tag. When I started, each course was $1850. Now, they're up to $2250 each. With the tuition cap in place, more of my money was going towards fewer classes. And yet - and yet - I never took out a loan or asked my parents for help.
So, there's your reason. And, if you ask me - it's a damn good one.
Let the praising begin.
Deciphering the Peon
The Peon has many facets to her. Like the book
Lisa, Bright and Dark, there is a dark side and a light side to the Peon. There is a public and personal. There is a fun and a not-so-fun.
Peon had an email conversation with a friend the other day about how [people] are often 'more' of something online than in person. For her, well...yeah, she's much more of a downer online. Much more openly depressed, cynical, pessimistic, etc etc ad naseum.
Part of that open display of negativity owes itself to the fact that the Peon often blogs at night. For some reason, nighttime - dark - causes the Peon to succumb to the bad feelings she's fought all day. It could be that she sits in the dark most nights, TV on, candles burning. Maybe turning the lights on would help, but she finds that garish and prefers the subtle glow of candlelight. The flickers are never identical, never repeated, and the light is calm and soothing to the Peon.
If the Peon only posted what she wrote during daylight hours, there would be a marked change in the tone of her blog. There would be work rants and occasional personal insights, but mainly things would be light and fluffy. One may argue that this alone is reason to - or not to - adapt this change in habit.
The negative outpours from this site also owe themselves to the fact that the Peon is alone while writing them. Were she one in a group, her mood would be elevated and she would not allow herself to explore or expose such troubled thoughts. It might be hard to believe, but the Peon has been fun more than once before. She's been the life of a party, she's been an instigator of mischief, she's been...liked, likeable, and lively.
She hasn't lately felt that way, and maybe that's shown through in her writing. She's concerned, though perhaps foolishly, that others will think her only a depressing bore. She doesn't argue that fact, she only laments it, even as she knows she's not able or willing to change that.
The Peon's postings are also the most honest side of her, and that's why they're shown here and not in person. It's hard for her to open up to others - to let them in - and for her to do so to real-life people, well...it's rare. Online communities offer the chance to purge what is inside, what the Peon feels she can't relate to those who actually know her for fear that they will recoil in disgust. She won't risk offending those she knows, but everyone else is fair game.
Perhaps you should give her a chance. Perhaps she's ready to show that other side of her, to prove that she is multi-faceted - and some are quite enjoyable.
Of course, what do I know? I, too, only know her as she presents herself to me.
Chef BoyRKatey
I've become something of a good cook over the past two years. I know there's a direct correlation between what I'll attempt to cook and having a dishwasher; in my old apartment, I never got too adventurous, as I knew I'd have to hand wash the pots, pans, dishes and utensils afterwards.
Here, though...everything (and with rare exception, I do mean EVERYTHING) goes into the dishwasher when I'm done, which has led me to some culinary masterpieces.
Curried meatballs with brown rice and green beans
Rosemary porkchops (my first - and last - introduction to rosemary) Veal piccata Chicken stuffed with goat cheese and garlic Pork medallions with port wine-dried cherry sauce Tomato tart Tonight, it will be meatloaf with a mashed potato casserole, green beans, and perhaps even biscuits. I live a good life, friends.
Vacation, All I Ever Wanted...
April 6th: Day off to sleep in, recover, do laundry, and laze around
Weekend of April 8th: Cdale - Back to my roots!
April 29th - May 8th: Costa Rica!
Weekend of June 18th: Minneapolis - Girl's Weekend!
July 4th weekend: San Francisco!
Labor Day weekend: Dakota - High school reunion!
Yeah, maybe I'm running, but at least I'm having a damn good time doing it.
Revelation
It amuses me, that at
4:20, I have a revelation.
When I woke up this morning, I woke from a bad dream. In it, my old best friend Heather (who sold me out for my Ex) was being really, really mean to me. She & I email maybe 2x a year now, but her place in my past allows her the power to hurt me easily if she chooses.
At any rate, in my dream, I was reading a notebook of hers in which she was saying really, really hurtful things about me. She was name calling and being derogatory and mocking and malicious. Cruel, with an intent to hurt. And it wasn't just a private notebook, it was something that her friends all saw, read, had access to, which meant they all knew to make fun of me and cut me down.
I don't recall why, or how, I was reading the notebook. But I do know that that dream was a manifest of things I discussed just prior to bed.
1. I talked with someone about reading things that hurt me, and knowing they'll hurt, and knowing it's stupid, and still reading them.
2. I felt very...small and insecure and stomped on when I went to bed. Not because of the conversation, but because...well, because.
3. In the notebook, I was made fun of for my hair, my clothes, my make-up, which makes sense because I was talking to someone else about not being good at hair/make-up.
4. I'm not exactly sure why Heather was the one being so mean to me, other than I'm going back to my hometown next weekend and have thus been thinking a lot about it. Well, and also because, as my
letter writer said, it reinforces other stupid shit in my life.
Huh. Well, at least I know what this particular cause was about.
Damn the Birds
Middle of the morning delerium. Makes me think back to when I sent cookies and porn long distance; things can certainly change quickly, so enjoy it while it lasts.
If I were a coffee drinker, I'd bundle up, make a cup, and sit on the balcony watching the sun come up. Another new day, another new promise.
Things that are said are disguised so as to not offend, not alert, not upset. Still, though, they're so obvious to me that I wonder if the disguise wears thin to all. Just remember, I got there first. That will always be mine.
It wasn't the slight; it was in how it was slighted. I'm always wondering, watching, comparing. I always come up short. Others picked that up instantly; you...not so much.
Night has been bringing back its demons lately. I knew it would; they're never gone for long. I stay up to thwart them, but I'm weak. Things are so much easier in the daytime. Easier to avoid, easier to forget, easier to push them away and fill their spots with brighter thoughts.
I'm figuratively walking a thin line these days. What I don't say is equally as important as what I say. Hidden meanings are everywhere, and I speak double-speak like a champ. Sometimes my actual thoughts scare even me.
The day has dawned; back to bed.
Crash and Burn
Seriously. What aren't I?
No, it's not a trick question. It's not like, "you're not a cat" or "you're not a pineapple." I mean, I'm neither of those things, but again, that's not the point.
Instead, I mean...what aren't I, in that...what aren't I that I need to be? What haven't I been?
(And that's not your clue to tell me things like 'nice' or 'optimistic.') And while we're at it...who the fuck are you? You people out there reading. You who don't know me, but still try to cheer me up. Why do you do it? What does it matter? Jesus fucking christ, it's all so...fake. Not you, just the situation. How well do we know anyone here? Enough to call each other friend? Enough to talk on the phone? Enough to invite you into one's life for however briefly a stay you're giving?
I appreciate it. I do. But I can't reciprocate. And I can't encourage.
