A LOVE LETTER:
Dear California,
Yeah, ok, so maybe I miss you. Finally. It took me long enough.
I miss the gentle caress of your salty ocean air, the way your roads are wide and vast. The little hills I took for granted all those years. God I miss your sweet, sweet hills. The curves and textures of them. Truly, I get excited even at the thought of those hills.
I miss the way the pollution taints the sunset over the ocean into exotic neon colors not normally found in nature. Neon pink? So beautiful. Only you can create such a feat.
I miss the faces I grew up with, the love of dysfunctional family, and the peace of lounging with a good friend on the couch and talking about nothing. I can do that in Chicago too, sure. But its different with you, California. Knowing I have to drive in order to "get out of the house" makes it that much sweeter when I just don't.
I enjoyed wearing a T-shirt in December. I could always do that with you. And flip flops have never felt better to my suffocated boot-ridden feet. Thanks for that. Thanks for just being your usual self the whole time I visited you. I apreciated that. I felt really close to you as a result.
And finally, after 2 years apart, I miss you. Sometimes it takes a while to realize what you lost. I know I gave up a lot to be without you. But we had our beef with each other and I know it is ultimately for the best that we be apart for now. Absence certainly made my heart grow fonder. You and I had our moments of greatness, but we are both better off for now. I know you can see that as clearly as I can.
But I just want you to know that I miss you, and think of you often. I hope you are doing okay without me and moving on just like I am.
You will always hold a piece of my heart, California, no matter where I go or who I end up with. I love you so much. Thank you for all you have given me. It was swell.
Good Luck!
With warmest regards,
Leanne
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Wow. Today I realized just how much I DON'T want to work at the place I have been working as a temp for the last 3 months. I went back and forth at first, when permenant positions came available, as to whether or not I could handle this being my life for a while. Sure, there are perks. No one seems to pay attention to you if you step out, leave late or stay late, flex your schedule to meet your needs a bit. You can wear jeans. There is always someone baking all night and bringing in tons of awesomely bad-for-you treats the next day. There is soda on tap. And coffee. And occasional free nice lunches. And the Xmas party was some place I would never go on my own, could not afford, and I drank effen vodka all night for free.
Then there are the lamenesses. Everyone is really dull and boring and from the suburbs. I still don't know half the peoples' names. My boss is a psycho hose beast. I can't look at the internet for more than 5 seconds, and most of the sites I wanna see are "Surf Alert Blocked!" I stuff envelopes all damn day and have the paper cuts to show for it. I feel like I am being judged secretly all the time. It's stupid work. blah blah blah.
But today...
Today really sealed the deal for me.
Yesterday my boss wanted me to stuff more Xmas cards. This entails me folding pre-signed cards from the President, sticking in a 150 dollar gift card (which I don't get as a temp and which makes me more bitter with each envelope I stuff), and sealing them into an envelope, then labeling all the envelopes. I thought we were done with the mass mailing Friday (the entire office took time out to power horse through them) but apparently the Toronto and Vancouver restaurants were still cardless. So, thankful to have something to do where I could read a book and mindless work my hands at the same time, I sat down and pushed through them quickly in order to please the boss lady.
I did notice that these particular cards were not signed by the Prez. They had her name printed in boldfaced type though, so I assumed we had run out of signed ones and who cares cuz its just the Canadians and the cards weren't even labeled personally anyway. The whole thing stunk of impersonality either way, so I just did what she told me, ignoring the urge to double check about the lack of signature. After I complete the task, there is this whole annoying misunderstanding due to my boss's lack of competancy about who and how they are to be mailed. Finally, the sweet office manager tells us it is complicated to mail to Canada so she will just take care of it for us. Very kind. Very Xmas spirit of her.
WHOOPS...
Today my boss comes barreling up to me (like she does) and says in her typical frantic spaz voice, "Did those cards I gave you yesterday have (nameless president here)'s signature on them?"
Mid-filing, I paused and stared at her with my best confused face, pondering whether or not to tell her the truth. Acting like I was really having to think back when I knew the answer was clearly NO, IDIOT! YOU GAVE ME BLANK CARDS AND NOW I KNOW YOU ARE GOING TO THINK I AM AN IDIOT TOO BECAUSE I DIDN'T NOTICE BUT I DID I JUST DIDN'T CARE!
So I finally say slowly, with much debate in my vocal quality, "I don't...think so. I would have to say no, I don't think they were."
She runs to check if they have been sent, and of course, our always-on-top-of-her-shit office manager has already taken care of it. They went out last night.
Then bossy lady comes back and raves about how we can't let them open them. "I have to get a hold of them and tell them not to open them," she mumbles crazily, "And (president) isn't here till tomorrow, so we can't send and new ones and..." she trails off, honestly looking like she is going to cry. Seriously.
"Sorry," I say, mustering up whatever ounce of sympathy I can find for something so stupidly trivial.
"Oh, its not your fault," she says. No shit.
I feel slightly bad about ignoring my urge earlier to question the lack of signature, but I let that go because honestly, its so incredibly idiotic to care at this point. In fact, why does SHE care?
"Her name is still on the cards," I offer. But she is too far gone at this point to recognize logic. All her tiny suburb-raised brain can comprehend is that these people, these Canadians so far away, with no other restaurant nearby to compare cards with, aren't going to have a shitty fake signature (which the president's assistant probably did for her anyway) on their mass produced, generic Xmas cards with 150 gift certificates inside them.
"Yeah, but..." she is at a loss. She proceeds to get to her office and return with a stack of cards that do have the signature on them. "These are left from the other mailing," she explains. "Just stuff these and we'll have enough for Vancouver at least."
She shoves them in my hands and I resist my intense desire to shake her. What I would say if I could would be:
WHO CARES???
These people are going to laugh at the attempt at personalizing, tear open the card, grab the gift card in glee and throw the remaining signed card away immediately. Then they will wearliy return to table 8 and ask if they need more iced tea. That's it. Seriously. I KNOW!!!
When I overheard my boss in near tears asking everyone in the office for advice about her predicament, and when said individuals all seemed to take her situation really seriously and offer the best advice they could, I realized right then and there that I could never stay here permenantly. I could not deal with small things like that being of vital importance. Perhaps that makes my boss more successful than I will ever be--her desire to be anally retentive about EVERYTHING. But I think I will be aware of things that are worth stressing about, and perhaps my blood pressure will be lower and I will live longer. Who knows.
And to think I get upset when I have to put more money into my car I don't drive. I freak out sometimes about that. Really. But even that looks valid compared to the ado I witnessed today.
Tis the season, people.
To get a grip.
Then there are the lamenesses. Everyone is really dull and boring and from the suburbs. I still don't know half the peoples' names. My boss is a psycho hose beast. I can't look at the internet for more than 5 seconds, and most of the sites I wanna see are "Surf Alert Blocked!" I stuff envelopes all damn day and have the paper cuts to show for it. I feel like I am being judged secretly all the time. It's stupid work. blah blah blah.
But today...
Today really sealed the deal for me.
Yesterday my boss wanted me to stuff more Xmas cards. This entails me folding pre-signed cards from the President, sticking in a 150 dollar gift card (which I don't get as a temp and which makes me more bitter with each envelope I stuff), and sealing them into an envelope, then labeling all the envelopes. I thought we were done with the mass mailing Friday (the entire office took time out to power horse through them) but apparently the Toronto and Vancouver restaurants were still cardless. So, thankful to have something to do where I could read a book and mindless work my hands at the same time, I sat down and pushed through them quickly in order to please the boss lady.
I did notice that these particular cards were not signed by the Prez. They had her name printed in boldfaced type though, so I assumed we had run out of signed ones and who cares cuz its just the Canadians and the cards weren't even labeled personally anyway. The whole thing stunk of impersonality either way, so I just did what she told me, ignoring the urge to double check about the lack of signature. After I complete the task, there is this whole annoying misunderstanding due to my boss's lack of competancy about who and how they are to be mailed. Finally, the sweet office manager tells us it is complicated to mail to Canada so she will just take care of it for us. Very kind. Very Xmas spirit of her.
WHOOPS...
Today my boss comes barreling up to me (like she does) and says in her typical frantic spaz voice, "Did those cards I gave you yesterday have (nameless president here)'s signature on them?"
Mid-filing, I paused and stared at her with my best confused face, pondering whether or not to tell her the truth. Acting like I was really having to think back when I knew the answer was clearly NO, IDIOT! YOU GAVE ME BLANK CARDS AND NOW I KNOW YOU ARE GOING TO THINK I AM AN IDIOT TOO BECAUSE I DIDN'T NOTICE BUT I DID I JUST DIDN'T CARE!
So I finally say slowly, with much debate in my vocal quality, "I don't...think so. I would have to say no, I don't think they were."
She runs to check if they have been sent, and of course, our always-on-top-of-her-shit office manager has already taken care of it. They went out last night.
Then bossy lady comes back and raves about how we can't let them open them. "I have to get a hold of them and tell them not to open them," she mumbles crazily, "And (president) isn't here till tomorrow, so we can't send and new ones and..." she trails off, honestly looking like she is going to cry. Seriously.
"Sorry," I say, mustering up whatever ounce of sympathy I can find for something so stupidly trivial.
"Oh, its not your fault," she says. No shit.
I feel slightly bad about ignoring my urge earlier to question the lack of signature, but I let that go because honestly, its so incredibly idiotic to care at this point. In fact, why does SHE care?
"Her name is still on the cards," I offer. But she is too far gone at this point to recognize logic. All her tiny suburb-raised brain can comprehend is that these people, these Canadians so far away, with no other restaurant nearby to compare cards with, aren't going to have a shitty fake signature (which the president's assistant probably did for her anyway) on their mass produced, generic Xmas cards with 150 gift certificates inside them.
"Yeah, but..." she is at a loss. She proceeds to get to her office and return with a stack of cards that do have the signature on them. "These are left from the other mailing," she explains. "Just stuff these and we'll have enough for Vancouver at least."
She shoves them in my hands and I resist my intense desire to shake her. What I would say if I could would be:
WHO CARES???
These people are going to laugh at the attempt at personalizing, tear open the card, grab the gift card in glee and throw the remaining signed card away immediately. Then they will wearliy return to table 8 and ask if they need more iced tea. That's it. Seriously. I KNOW!!!
When I overheard my boss in near tears asking everyone in the office for advice about her predicament, and when said individuals all seemed to take her situation really seriously and offer the best advice they could, I realized right then and there that I could never stay here permenantly. I could not deal with small things like that being of vital importance. Perhaps that makes my boss more successful than I will ever be--her desire to be anally retentive about EVERYTHING. But I think I will be aware of things that are worth stressing about, and perhaps my blood pressure will be lower and I will live longer. Who knows.
And to think I get upset when I have to put more money into my car I don't drive. I freak out sometimes about that. Really. But even that looks valid compared to the ado I witnessed today.
Tis the season, people.
To get a grip.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
A fax sent to the office I am currently temping at was asking for old cell phones to be donated to "Make the Call" or some group named something like that , a group whose mission is to distribute cell phones all over the place to those who need them to call 911 sometime (ie battered women shelters, homeless, elderly, etc), because I guess according to them, every cell phone can call 911 even without a plan. I found it odd, because we have really become dependant on cell phones these days. These people never had cell phones before. And neither did most of the population in America. So when did this need become so great and life threatening? Its weird to think we just keep finding new ways to make our lives easier. But when do we draw the line? When do we think enough is enough?
I can't remember a time when I didn't have a cell phone--how I managed, how I made plans, how I paid bills or had the time to sit at home on hold all day with a credit card company. But I know there was a time. And everyone was just fine, right?
So now some people have gotten together to ask us all to return our old cells we no longer use to their company, so they can do this selfless, important act of giving bums and poor people cell phones. Don't get me wrong, I see the impact. Maybe that battered woman can call 911 when her husband runs into the kitchen to get the frying pan. Or maybe the bum who is puking his innards out on the street and near death can call someone to take him to the hospital where he cannot afford to be saved. These are all important moments to try to prevent. I guess I just have a hard time comprehending that we are even at this point in society. That we are so dependant and fearful of a life without cell phones, that we feel it vital to make sure everyone gets to be "connected" as well. Not that these people aren't deserving of a way to get help. But I just feel that we have survived this long without EVERYONE having cell phones, and I think the world would still have tragedy and pain even with the access to a phone to call good old 911.
The weirdest thing about all this--
We keep creating so many things to "better" our way of life, and as we do so, we are constantly creating new needs we never even knew we could have.
Remember when our basic needs were water, food and shelter?
Those are some pretty heavy hitters that take a lot to keep up with.
Now there are other "things we just can't seem to live without..." ie. the Internet. Cell phones. Central Air. Cars. TV. ipods.
Its just really weird to think about. And this new selfless group, intent on arming the masses with cell phones to protect them, is the perfect example of just how far we have gone in creating more and more seeming vital "needs".
Maybe I will feel more supportive of the cause when I am walking by a homeless man coughing and wheezing and using my tiny little old cell phone to punch in 911.
We shall see.
I can't remember a time when I didn't have a cell phone--how I managed, how I made plans, how I paid bills or had the time to sit at home on hold all day with a credit card company. But I know there was a time. And everyone was just fine, right?
So now some people have gotten together to ask us all to return our old cells we no longer use to their company, so they can do this selfless, important act of giving bums and poor people cell phones. Don't get me wrong, I see the impact. Maybe that battered woman can call 911 when her husband runs into the kitchen to get the frying pan. Or maybe the bum who is puking his innards out on the street and near death can call someone to take him to the hospital where he cannot afford to be saved. These are all important moments to try to prevent. I guess I just have a hard time comprehending that we are even at this point in society. That we are so dependant and fearful of a life without cell phones, that we feel it vital to make sure everyone gets to be "connected" as well. Not that these people aren't deserving of a way to get help. But I just feel that we have survived this long without EVERYONE having cell phones, and I think the world would still have tragedy and pain even with the access to a phone to call good old 911.
The weirdest thing about all this--
We keep creating so many things to "better" our way of life, and as we do so, we are constantly creating new needs we never even knew we could have.
Remember when our basic needs were water, food and shelter?
Those are some pretty heavy hitters that take a lot to keep up with.
Now there are other "things we just can't seem to live without..." ie. the Internet. Cell phones. Central Air. Cars. TV. ipods.
Its just really weird to think about. And this new selfless group, intent on arming the masses with cell phones to protect them, is the perfect example of just how far we have gone in creating more and more seeming vital "needs".
Maybe I will feel more supportive of the cause when I am walking by a homeless man coughing and wheezing and using my tiny little old cell phone to punch in 911.
We shall see.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
I am hesitant to write today but was pulled to my blog nonetheless.
Life is going along, but lately I am feeling as if it is going along without me. I am pulled through situations and sort of bending and flexing, like a drunk person falling down a cliff--they say they survive things like that because they are numb and flexible when intoxicated. Trouble is, I am not intoxicated, nor do I want to be. I need to be present for all this. This is all really big to me right now, and later it will probably appear very small. A mere dent on the car I am driving through time...
Until then, I am walking in a bit of a clarity haze. Can I say that? Does that make sense to anyone but me? I feel really clear, sort of peaceful, but also constantly in my head, wandering in a head space I don't really know what to do with.
I am starting to doubt myself. What I knew, what I know, what I trust in...
I am not really sure what kind of person I really am in difficult situations. I used to know--I was a little weak, I was insecure, clinging to the past, intimidated into doing things, or even sometimes doing things for the wrong reasons--for the drama of it all.
Do I still like drama?
Yeah...I do. Can I consciously try to avoid it? Sure.
Do I want to? I don't know. It follows me anyway, it seems.
I guess drama and suffering is the stuff of life and I should embrace it. But having had a taste of what felt like comfort and support, ease and contentment, I found myself avoiding drama just to try to maintain that stasis. But it is impossible. It always comes up, as long as people keep trying to be intimate and connected to one another.
All of this probably sounds really criptic and sort of surface...I think that is all I can write, without getting into too much detail. I don't even know if I can think about details right now. The big picture is what is glaring in my face right now. And that whole "forrest for the trees" saying is working oddly for me right now. I see this huge fucking forrest and it is all fuzzy and vast and I can't make out anything close up--the outline of each individual tree is blurring before my eyes. Or maybe its just the tears. It could be that too. Either way, I can't quite grasp what baby steps I need to do. But I am attempting to walk them anyway, blindly almost.
I don't know what else I can do...
or write...
I am spent...
Life is going along, but lately I am feeling as if it is going along without me. I am pulled through situations and sort of bending and flexing, like a drunk person falling down a cliff--they say they survive things like that because they are numb and flexible when intoxicated. Trouble is, I am not intoxicated, nor do I want to be. I need to be present for all this. This is all really big to me right now, and later it will probably appear very small. A mere dent on the car I am driving through time...
Until then, I am walking in a bit of a clarity haze. Can I say that? Does that make sense to anyone but me? I feel really clear, sort of peaceful, but also constantly in my head, wandering in a head space I don't really know what to do with.
I am starting to doubt myself. What I knew, what I know, what I trust in...
I am not really sure what kind of person I really am in difficult situations. I used to know--I was a little weak, I was insecure, clinging to the past, intimidated into doing things, or even sometimes doing things for the wrong reasons--for the drama of it all.
Do I still like drama?
Yeah...I do. Can I consciously try to avoid it? Sure.
Do I want to? I don't know. It follows me anyway, it seems.
I guess drama and suffering is the stuff of life and I should embrace it. But having had a taste of what felt like comfort and support, ease and contentment, I found myself avoiding drama just to try to maintain that stasis. But it is impossible. It always comes up, as long as people keep trying to be intimate and connected to one another.
All of this probably sounds really criptic and sort of surface...I think that is all I can write, without getting into too much detail. I don't even know if I can think about details right now. The big picture is what is glaring in my face right now. And that whole "forrest for the trees" saying is working oddly for me right now. I see this huge fucking forrest and it is all fuzzy and vast and I can't make out anything close up--the outline of each individual tree is blurring before my eyes. Or maybe its just the tears. It could be that too. Either way, I can't quite grasp what baby steps I need to do. But I am attempting to walk them anyway, blindly almost.
I don't know what else I can do...
or write...
I am spent...
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
There is something so calm about the moments after a good cry. You feel light, centered, at peace for a fleeting second. It is very spiritual and cathartic. You are able to open your mind to truths and not react to them, but just see them, clearly, for what they are...truths.
I feel bad for people who dont let themselves experience this clarity more often. Non-criers miss out, I say, on the simple, human moment when the body drains all its stress out in tears. Where does all that stress go when you dont cry? It cant stay bottled up forever. And if it does stay inside, and eventually dissapate, where does it leak to? Other parts of your muscles? Your stomach lining? Your intestines? That cant be good for your soul, mind or body...
I would much rather get it all up and out of me. I feel free afterward.
Till I cry again in fits and starts and it happens all over again...ahh the cycle of life.
I feel bad for people who dont let themselves experience this clarity more often. Non-criers miss out, I say, on the simple, human moment when the body drains all its stress out in tears. Where does all that stress go when you dont cry? It cant stay bottled up forever. And if it does stay inside, and eventually dissapate, where does it leak to? Other parts of your muscles? Your stomach lining? Your intestines? That cant be good for your soul, mind or body...
I would much rather get it all up and out of me. I feel free afterward.
Till I cry again in fits and starts and it happens all over again...ahh the cycle of life.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Ok kids, its been a while, and Mama's been sick with a winter cold and traveling all over the frickin East Coast for Thanksgiving with the boy. So sorry about the hiatus.
I was thinking about something that happened in the summer that was very cathartic that I never got to write much about. So I am going to do that now. Perhaps I will experience another cathartic feeling. A re-catharting, as it were?
There was a ring. It sat on top of a shelf, getting absolutely no attention for a very long time. While he packed to leave for good, while I sat on the bed and watched him pack himself out of my life, I happened to notice the ring.
"Is this yours?" I asked
"Oh, yeah."
"Where is it from?"
He paused in thought. Then, "I think I actually found it on the ground somewhere."
I picked it up and put it on. It looked lovely. "Can I have it?" I had to ask.
"Sure."
To me, it was a symbol of our connection, to be cherished long after he was gone. To him, it was just a shitty thing he found one drunk night and kept accidently. This could have been the metaphor for our entire relationship. I know that now.
He would never have given me anything like that on his own. And I wanted it--something crappy he found, because I could invoke meaning out of it where he couldn't. Just like in our relationship. Strange, the correlation.
So time passes and life passes and long after my heart was broken a few too many times by his disinterest and lack of compassion and whatnot, I still wore the ring. New life, new city, old stupid ring. I rather liked how it looked on my finger--black onyx with a flowery band of tarnished silver...I didn't wear any jewelry, just this ring. And once I truly felt his hold on my aching heart slip away into the black waters, like Leo at the end of that Titanic movie, I felt the intense need to rid myself of the ring that didnt even symbolize anything all along.
But I didnt do anything about it for a very long time. I had the plan all set--take my girlfriends out to lake Michigan with a bottle of wine and have a little ceremony before tossing it in with strength and pride, a purdging of sorts. But I never found a good time to do it. Months and months passed, I found a wonderful man I love more than I thought possible, but still the ring remained. Who was I, Gullom?
Then one night, after one too many Strong Island Ice Teas or 6 shot Margaritas or something to that effect from my favorite watering hole, I found myself with strangers and friends all drunkenly lounging on the concrete shores of Belmont Harbor, Lake Michigan yawning out before me as far as the eye could see. I felt so drunk I knew the bad time was coming for me, the time when I yack and call it a night. But before it came, I had a duty to perform. I was inspired to throw the ring here, now, among these strangers I barely knew. It was time, I just knew it.
I called for everyone's attention, and proceeded to explain my situation. Everyone was very supportive of the ring tossing, so I pulled it off, freed myself, and chucked it out into the murky depths of Lake Michigan. It felt so overwhemingly good to do.
And as I sat drunkenly down at the edge of the water, I realized I had been holding on to the past, and all my anger and hurt. I felt it slipping away with the rings demise. I deserved what I had now--a loving, wonderful boy to explore the world with, and I deserved not to be taken for granted or fucked with. It was a calm, peaceful feeling. Satisfying.
Then I crawled away from the group and leaned over the edge of the concrete and hurled all my insides out. Right into Lake Michigan. Right into the waters in which I had thrown the ring. And I gotta tell you, it felt good. I puked all over the ring. I purdged literally and figuratively.
Embarassed and newly sober, I wiped my mouth and lay on the cool concrete, thinking about how strange it all was. But how good I felt now. It was over. Finally.
So that is the story I wanted to share. I was happy to do something so dramatic and silly, since I have never been the type. I tend to keep everything people give me and cherish things boyfriends give me, even if they are as meaningless as a shitty found ring. I have learned not to form attachments to such things. Its the feeling between two people that carries a relationship through this lifetime. Not supposed symbols.
I was thinking about something that happened in the summer that was very cathartic that I never got to write much about. So I am going to do that now. Perhaps I will experience another cathartic feeling. A re-catharting, as it were?
There was a ring. It sat on top of a shelf, getting absolutely no attention for a very long time. While he packed to leave for good, while I sat on the bed and watched him pack himself out of my life, I happened to notice the ring.
"Is this yours?" I asked
"Oh, yeah."
"Where is it from?"
He paused in thought. Then, "I think I actually found it on the ground somewhere."
I picked it up and put it on. It looked lovely. "Can I have it?" I had to ask.
"Sure."
To me, it was a symbol of our connection, to be cherished long after he was gone. To him, it was just a shitty thing he found one drunk night and kept accidently. This could have been the metaphor for our entire relationship. I know that now.
He would never have given me anything like that on his own. And I wanted it--something crappy he found, because I could invoke meaning out of it where he couldn't. Just like in our relationship. Strange, the correlation.
So time passes and life passes and long after my heart was broken a few too many times by his disinterest and lack of compassion and whatnot, I still wore the ring. New life, new city, old stupid ring. I rather liked how it looked on my finger--black onyx with a flowery band of tarnished silver...I didn't wear any jewelry, just this ring. And once I truly felt his hold on my aching heart slip away into the black waters, like Leo at the end of that Titanic movie, I felt the intense need to rid myself of the ring that didnt even symbolize anything all along.
But I didnt do anything about it for a very long time. I had the plan all set--take my girlfriends out to lake Michigan with a bottle of wine and have a little ceremony before tossing it in with strength and pride, a purdging of sorts. But I never found a good time to do it. Months and months passed, I found a wonderful man I love more than I thought possible, but still the ring remained. Who was I, Gullom?
Then one night, after one too many Strong Island Ice Teas or 6 shot Margaritas or something to that effect from my favorite watering hole, I found myself with strangers and friends all drunkenly lounging on the concrete shores of Belmont Harbor, Lake Michigan yawning out before me as far as the eye could see. I felt so drunk I knew the bad time was coming for me, the time when I yack and call it a night. But before it came, I had a duty to perform. I was inspired to throw the ring here, now, among these strangers I barely knew. It was time, I just knew it.
I called for everyone's attention, and proceeded to explain my situation. Everyone was very supportive of the ring tossing, so I pulled it off, freed myself, and chucked it out into the murky depths of Lake Michigan. It felt so overwhemingly good to do.
And as I sat drunkenly down at the edge of the water, I realized I had been holding on to the past, and all my anger and hurt. I felt it slipping away with the rings demise. I deserved what I had now--a loving, wonderful boy to explore the world with, and I deserved not to be taken for granted or fucked with. It was a calm, peaceful feeling. Satisfying.
Then I crawled away from the group and leaned over the edge of the concrete and hurled all my insides out. Right into Lake Michigan. Right into the waters in which I had thrown the ring. And I gotta tell you, it felt good. I puked all over the ring. I purdged literally and figuratively.
Embarassed and newly sober, I wiped my mouth and lay on the cool concrete, thinking about how strange it all was. But how good I felt now. It was over. Finally.
So that is the story I wanted to share. I was happy to do something so dramatic and silly, since I have never been the type. I tend to keep everything people give me and cherish things boyfriends give me, even if they are as meaningless as a shitty found ring. I have learned not to form attachments to such things. Its the feeling between two people that carries a relationship through this lifetime. Not supposed symbols.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Last night I came to a very scary realization...
After a night of heavy drinking and seeing shows and bowling in the glow of various blacklights, I ended up at a friend's birthday party during what is known as the "weird hour," about 130am or so. During this end of the night social hour, I decided to try to teach a guy the "Mc Donalds" little girls' slapping hand routine from childhood. I am sure some are familiar--"Big Mac, Filet of Fish, Quarter Pounder, French Fries, Icy Coke, Thick Shake, Sundaes and Apple Pie..." you know the rest. We half chanted, half sung this song as we executed various seemingly elaborate hand slaps and snaps and such. It was thrilling as a little girl, trust me.
Well the guy didn't know it, so the female stranger next to him pushed him away and took over with gusto, which was very pleasing to me.
As this was going on, another friend came out and, inspired by the Micky Dee's routine, he proceeded to spout out some song he had learned as a child in which every single mother-loving menu item is recited in record speed. It was incredible. And oddly unsettling.
THEN, the original guy I was attempting to teach my slap hand routine, busted out with a song from camp that sounded vaguely familiar from days long gone. It went something like this:
A-Pizza Hut!
A-Pizza Hut!
Kentucky Fried Chicken and
A-Pizza Hut!
Mc Donalds!
Mc Donalds!
Kentucky Fried Chicken and
A-Pizza Hut!
--and so on.
Holy shit, I thought to myself, we have so many references from childhood to these fast food chains that we are now FINALLY realizing are so awful for us and contribute to this country's sense of gluttony and big, Big, BIG! It has been ingrained in us like so much church propaganda! The Church of Fast Food? Yikes.
Anyway this thought went along with another thought I had earlier in the week, about if babies whose mothers eat Mc Donalds when pregnant give their offspring a taste of the addictive qualities of Mc Donalds so early on, that they come out wanting it all the time and already hooked on whatever additives they put in the fries and shit that make it so good and such an intense craving sometimes.
Almost like a crack baby, but for Mc Donalds.
I really worry about those children. They may be the same ones whose mothers give them coca-cola in a bottle, forcing them to rot their teeth early and have gold and silver teeth by age 4.
But I guess now that bling grills are in style, its not so bad for those kids. And they can always be passified by a quick stop for a Happy Meal.
After a night of heavy drinking and seeing shows and bowling in the glow of various blacklights, I ended up at a friend's birthday party during what is known as the "weird hour," about 130am or so. During this end of the night social hour, I decided to try to teach a guy the "Mc Donalds" little girls' slapping hand routine from childhood. I am sure some are familiar--"Big Mac, Filet of Fish, Quarter Pounder, French Fries, Icy Coke, Thick Shake, Sundaes and Apple Pie..." you know the rest. We half chanted, half sung this song as we executed various seemingly elaborate hand slaps and snaps and such. It was thrilling as a little girl, trust me.
Well the guy didn't know it, so the female stranger next to him pushed him away and took over with gusto, which was very pleasing to me.
As this was going on, another friend came out and, inspired by the Micky Dee's routine, he proceeded to spout out some song he had learned as a child in which every single mother-loving menu item is recited in record speed. It was incredible. And oddly unsettling.
THEN, the original guy I was attempting to teach my slap hand routine, busted out with a song from camp that sounded vaguely familiar from days long gone. It went something like this:
A-Pizza Hut!
A-Pizza Hut!
Kentucky Fried Chicken and
A-Pizza Hut!
Mc Donalds!
Mc Donalds!
Kentucky Fried Chicken and
A-Pizza Hut!
--and so on.
Holy shit, I thought to myself, we have so many references from childhood to these fast food chains that we are now FINALLY realizing are so awful for us and contribute to this country's sense of gluttony and big, Big, BIG! It has been ingrained in us like so much church propaganda! The Church of Fast Food? Yikes.
Anyway this thought went along with another thought I had earlier in the week, about if babies whose mothers eat Mc Donalds when pregnant give their offspring a taste of the addictive qualities of Mc Donalds so early on, that they come out wanting it all the time and already hooked on whatever additives they put in the fries and shit that make it so good and such an intense craving sometimes.
Almost like a crack baby, but for Mc Donalds.
I really worry about those children. They may be the same ones whose mothers give them coca-cola in a bottle, forcing them to rot their teeth early and have gold and silver teeth by age 4.
But I guess now that bling grills are in style, its not so bad for those kids. And they can always be passified by a quick stop for a Happy Meal.
Friday, November 17, 2006
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Things I am scared of right now...
1) The cold setting in
2) My car crapping out and having no money
3) Having to move soon and having no money
4) Starting a career path with an expensive school and having no money
5) Having to ask my mom for money
6) Some sort of catastrophe happening and having no money
I sense a pattern.
It seems I am having a financial breakdown. Again. It seems like only yesterday I was freaking out about money when I quit my waitressing job. But now, after being very frugal for a month or so, I have slipped just a little and got a bit fancy free with my money. (What? A girl can't have a few drinks and a nice movie on a Saturday afternoon? Please.) And suddenly I am back at square one, shivering and scared that if anything disrupts this delicate balance I have going, I will spiral into poor woman's oblivion. I am just perfectly able to pay all my bills and rent and eat and have a few drinks. That is about it. Nothing else can be introduced. Even a fun roadtrip coming up for Thanksgiving is secretly putting me into mini convulsions if I think about it and how I am going to afford to miss 3 whole work days.
Its ridiculous, I know. Stupid and meaningless to worry unnecessarily. But sometimes it feels very necessary. Especially when I am looking to take the plunge into some serious debt for school. The one good thing I had going was my little debt--a few thousand in cc bills. No biggie. NO school loans. Great.
But now...I am about to embark on an academic quest to learn a craft that will be amazing and wonderful to use, supposedly pay well, and hopefully give me some of the purpose I have been seeking for a while. But what if it doesn't? What if I don't get it, or I hurt myself, or I stop halfway through out of circumstances out of my control?
I am hearing my mother's voice in a lot of these thoughts. Her voice in my head likes to team up with my own inner voice and tear down all my excitement for things, only focusing on the hardships and possible horrible worse case senarios.
I hate it.
And I am fighting it. Seriously. I am really trying this time...
I just slip up and get lazy and the voices creep up yet again. So here I am, getting them out and away from my head and out into the ether (or net as it were) and somehow it helps. It may be a quick fix to just get me through the next few days, but it helps.
Anyone have any thoughts or fears they want to contribute? It is always nice to know you aren't alone in your darker moments. It helps to get it out and share with people who understand.
I am here, shaking in my shitty boots I can't afford to replace, willing to listen and empathize.
1) The cold setting in
2) My car crapping out and having no money
3) Having to move soon and having no money
4) Starting a career path with an expensive school and having no money
5) Having to ask my mom for money
6) Some sort of catastrophe happening and having no money
I sense a pattern.
It seems I am having a financial breakdown. Again. It seems like only yesterday I was freaking out about money when I quit my waitressing job. But now, after being very frugal for a month or so, I have slipped just a little and got a bit fancy free with my money. (What? A girl can't have a few drinks and a nice movie on a Saturday afternoon? Please.) And suddenly I am back at square one, shivering and scared that if anything disrupts this delicate balance I have going, I will spiral into poor woman's oblivion. I am just perfectly able to pay all my bills and rent and eat and have a few drinks. That is about it. Nothing else can be introduced. Even a fun roadtrip coming up for Thanksgiving is secretly putting me into mini convulsions if I think about it and how I am going to afford to miss 3 whole work days.
Its ridiculous, I know. Stupid and meaningless to worry unnecessarily. But sometimes it feels very necessary. Especially when I am looking to take the plunge into some serious debt for school. The one good thing I had going was my little debt--a few thousand in cc bills. No biggie. NO school loans. Great.
But now...I am about to embark on an academic quest to learn a craft that will be amazing and wonderful to use, supposedly pay well, and hopefully give me some of the purpose I have been seeking for a while. But what if it doesn't? What if I don't get it, or I hurt myself, or I stop halfway through out of circumstances out of my control?
I am hearing my mother's voice in a lot of these thoughts. Her voice in my head likes to team up with my own inner voice and tear down all my excitement for things, only focusing on the hardships and possible horrible worse case senarios.
I hate it.
And I am fighting it. Seriously. I am really trying this time...
I just slip up and get lazy and the voices creep up yet again. So here I am, getting them out and away from my head and out into the ether (or net as it were) and somehow it helps. It may be a quick fix to just get me through the next few days, but it helps.
Anyone have any thoughts or fears they want to contribute? It is always nice to know you aren't alone in your darker moments. It helps to get it out and share with people who understand.
I am here, shaking in my shitty boots I can't afford to replace, willing to listen and empathize.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
The Killer Giant Snails Are Coming!!!!
I read that in Barbados they are conducting nocturnal hunts in search of the "Giant Snails" that are taking massive chunks out of their wildlife during the night. These snails are said to be at least the size of a human hand, and are often found riding on each other's backs and clustering together in what sound like massive snail orgies.
I can't quite believe this is really happening.
It is a very similar feeling to the one I had when told that they had found the Giant Squid, which has "eyes the size of dinner plates!" I was full of glee when I heard, yet had a very hard time comprehending the truth of it all.
I hope they can put a stop to the destruction these snails have caused. But I also hope they can cage at least a few of those suckers and ship them over to the museum here so I can see these invertebrate orgies in action.
I read that in Barbados they are conducting nocturnal hunts in search of the "Giant Snails" that are taking massive chunks out of their wildlife during the night. These snails are said to be at least the size of a human hand, and are often found riding on each other's backs and clustering together in what sound like massive snail orgies.
I can't quite believe this is really happening.
It is a very similar feeling to the one I had when told that they had found the Giant Squid, which has "eyes the size of dinner plates!" I was full of glee when I heard, yet had a very hard time comprehending the truth of it all.
I hope they can put a stop to the destruction these snails have caused. But I also hope they can cage at least a few of those suckers and ship them over to the museum here so I can see these invertebrate orgies in action.
Monday, November 06, 2006
It is always scary to take the plunge and commit to a set path in life. That has been my problem for a long time, I think--the idea that deciding what to do and then going for it is so...final, and thus a challenge to do. But the beauty of making a decision is that you can always veer somewhere else, or discover something even better along the way. It's NOT doing anything that stops you from moving forward or living life to the fullest.
And choosing a path doesn't mean it has to be forever. It can just be an awesome and satisfying way to spend your time...until it's not. And that is okay too. But maybe, just maybe, you find something that will fulfill something inside of you. And maybe that will be the end all be all. Or maybe it will be what it is to you right then--exactly what you needed to do to save yourself from yourself. And then you move on to something else.
I am experiencing this sort of decision making phenomena right now. And it feels so much better than NOT doing anything, that I know whether it is right or wrong, it is good for me. I am excited about discovering if a career is right for me, and I am going about it as responsibly as I can. I am getting mixed responses from friends and family, but I am trying to sort out the pros and cons and the negative attitudes. I am evaluating the investment I would have to make and assessing if it is worth the spiritual and educational growth I will be gaining from it.
I have discovered many things so far. One is, this shit is really difficult. But it's not so difficult I want to quit. The drive far outweighs the trouble. Which is AWESOME! I haven't felt that in a long time. Also, trying to listen to yourself is easier once you stop pushing to find something. Something will make sense once you give yourself the attention you need and stop paying attention to what everyone else is doing. Easier said than done for me, but I managed to hear a little something and am trying to run with it. And even if it turns out not to be for me, I am that much closer to finding what is. That is what life is.
Why is it so hard to remember that? All those cliches about "life is the journey, not the destination" and blah blah get lost along the way when you are freaking out about being in your late 20s and as directionless as an amoeba. Maybe we aren't directionless, maybe it is okay to have some incubation periods at times. Bears get to hybernate, don't they? Maybe we should get to as well. As long as we don't get lost in our sorrow and fear, maybe it is rejuvinating to go through it.
At least that is what I keep telling myself.
Anyway I am excited to see what the future has in store, and I am not fearing it nearly as much.
Give me a few days, then we'll talk.
And choosing a path doesn't mean it has to be forever. It can just be an awesome and satisfying way to spend your time...until it's not. And that is okay too. But maybe, just maybe, you find something that will fulfill something inside of you. And maybe that will be the end all be all. Or maybe it will be what it is to you right then--exactly what you needed to do to save yourself from yourself. And then you move on to something else.
I am experiencing this sort of decision making phenomena right now. And it feels so much better than NOT doing anything, that I know whether it is right or wrong, it is good for me. I am excited about discovering if a career is right for me, and I am going about it as responsibly as I can. I am getting mixed responses from friends and family, but I am trying to sort out the pros and cons and the negative attitudes. I am evaluating the investment I would have to make and assessing if it is worth the spiritual and educational growth I will be gaining from it.
I have discovered many things so far. One is, this shit is really difficult. But it's not so difficult I want to quit. The drive far outweighs the trouble. Which is AWESOME! I haven't felt that in a long time. Also, trying to listen to yourself is easier once you stop pushing to find something. Something will make sense once you give yourself the attention you need and stop paying attention to what everyone else is doing. Easier said than done for me, but I managed to hear a little something and am trying to run with it. And even if it turns out not to be for me, I am that much closer to finding what is. That is what life is.
Why is it so hard to remember that? All those cliches about "life is the journey, not the destination" and blah blah get lost along the way when you are freaking out about being in your late 20s and as directionless as an amoeba. Maybe we aren't directionless, maybe it is okay to have some incubation periods at times. Bears get to hybernate, don't they? Maybe we should get to as well. As long as we don't get lost in our sorrow and fear, maybe it is rejuvinating to go through it.
At least that is what I keep telling myself.
Anyway I am excited to see what the future has in store, and I am not fearing it nearly as much.
Give me a few days, then we'll talk.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
I began taking a guitar class at Old Town School of Folk, which I highly reccommend to anyone who wants a low key and warm environment in which to make poor attempts at rocking when you know nothing about music. Seriously, when you are jamming in class at Old Town , you FEEL like you are really mastering the instrument, and everyone supports your artistic endevors wholeheartedly. Its amazing. Also, they just throw you into learning songs...no music theory or chord progressions to slow you down. You simply pound out "Mercedes Benz" with your best Janis Joplin voice until your fingers bleed and you feel like a master.
Case in point--I had my first class Thurs (compliments of the best boy ever) and I enjoyed every minute of it. I learned chords called "D" and "A7" and through those two, I was able to play at least 4 songs that night. Incredible, I say. I felt the confidence of a true guitar player shine through my actual novice status solely because I could play an entire song. There is truly something to that--the sense accomplishment, especially on the first day. I think the instructors know that and that is why they use this "just get in there and play" technique. It is much more rewarding than talking about the music and chords and beats, etc. the entire class.
After jamming for two hours straight on Hank Williams, Bob Marley, Janis and Merle Haggard, I finished my beer (yes, I had beer while I played. Genius!) and walked to the train abuzz with pride.
Then I noticed the massive blister on the side of my thumb. It came so fast, without warning. But it was there, shouting out for me to pay attention to it with a throbbing pain I have not ever experienced on that part of my body before. The blister stayed for 3 days, not popping but threatening to every time I used the keyboard on the computer at work(which was often.) It made my whole thumb hot, despite the dropping Chicago tempatures, quite a feat, I must say.
I kept a close watch on it, waiting for the enevitable pop, only to be slightly disappointed when I woke up Saturday hung over and saw that somehow during the night while I slept, the liquid found a way to drain out undetected. All that remained of my tight little bubble was a deflated sack hanging off my thumb. And no wet spot anywhere on the bed to show for it. Oh well. At least it didn't explode in an embarassing scene somewhere public. I guess I should be grateful. So I will.
Now I am looking forward to the next lesson. I hope guitar doesn't end up like mandolin class, where my excitement for it lasted through the second session, and then suddenly I found myself so damn lost that my fingers looked at me in confusion and said "you want us to do WHAT? No way, we're outta here," and promptly gave up.
I think guitar is a little more accessible than mandolin, though, so maybe it will be a while before they introduce things that overwhelm my dumb fingers so much that they retreat back into my pockets in fear. I certainly hope so. I want to be able to rock any time, anywhere. That is my goal.
Here is to trying a new awesome thing. We should all make sure we are doing that whenever we start to get too comfortable. Challenges (even large bubbly ones on the side of our thumbs) are wonderful and necessary to our sense of pride in ourselves. May we all embrace them with glee.
Case in point--I had my first class Thurs (compliments of the best boy ever) and I enjoyed every minute of it. I learned chords called "D" and "A7" and through those two, I was able to play at least 4 songs that night. Incredible, I say. I felt the confidence of a true guitar player shine through my actual novice status solely because I could play an entire song. There is truly something to that--the sense accomplishment, especially on the first day. I think the instructors know that and that is why they use this "just get in there and play" technique. It is much more rewarding than talking about the music and chords and beats, etc. the entire class.
After jamming for two hours straight on Hank Williams, Bob Marley, Janis and Merle Haggard, I finished my beer (yes, I had beer while I played. Genius!) and walked to the train abuzz with pride.
Then I noticed the massive blister on the side of my thumb. It came so fast, without warning. But it was there, shouting out for me to pay attention to it with a throbbing pain I have not ever experienced on that part of my body before. The blister stayed for 3 days, not popping but threatening to every time I used the keyboard on the computer at work(which was often.) It made my whole thumb hot, despite the dropping Chicago tempatures, quite a feat, I must say.
I kept a close watch on it, waiting for the enevitable pop, only to be slightly disappointed when I woke up Saturday hung over and saw that somehow during the night while I slept, the liquid found a way to drain out undetected. All that remained of my tight little bubble was a deflated sack hanging off my thumb. And no wet spot anywhere on the bed to show for it. Oh well. At least it didn't explode in an embarassing scene somewhere public. I guess I should be grateful. So I will.
Now I am looking forward to the next lesson. I hope guitar doesn't end up like mandolin class, where my excitement for it lasted through the second session, and then suddenly I found myself so damn lost that my fingers looked at me in confusion and said "you want us to do WHAT? No way, we're outta here," and promptly gave up.
I think guitar is a little more accessible than mandolin, though, so maybe it will be a while before they introduce things that overwhelm my dumb fingers so much that they retreat back into my pockets in fear. I certainly hope so. I want to be able to rock any time, anywhere. That is my goal.
Here is to trying a new awesome thing. We should all make sure we are doing that whenever we start to get too comfortable. Challenges (even large bubbly ones on the side of our thumbs) are wonderful and necessary to our sense of pride in ourselves. May we all embrace them with glee.
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Open Letter to Chicago Public Transit System:
Dear CTA,
Words cannot express how much I love you, despite all your flaws. Look, I have loved many times, and I really think with you, I can forgive all the things about you that really get my goat, and just find a higher plane with us.
On Weekend nights, I think about how fast you get us all away from our shitty day jobs and into our nightlife, and I am amazed at your speed and dedication. I wonder how you feel about having to go back and forth all night instead of partying down as well. I am sure you miss the raging fun, but at least you get to see it in transition, from one social gathering to another. Sometimes the train cars even become a mini party of their own due to drunken idiots! What fun! They bring the party to you, CTA. That is how much we love you.
I often curse your name when I have already brought it upon myself to be late to work, and you add to the problem by being late as well. And sometimes I get annoyed that you dont have more seats. Or you take a turn to quick and make me mash into another rider, thus breaking my silent morning and forcing me to utter "sorry" in my gravelly pre-coffee voice.
But despite all this, I honestly don't know what I would do without you. I need you in my life, always. I can't see myself without you, and my future looks so beautiful as long as you are around. So I will get over all my issues with you and keep trying to find new ways to love you and all you bring me each day.
Sincerely,
Yours forever,
Your sweet loving rider,
Leanne
Dear CTA,
Words cannot express how much I love you, despite all your flaws. Look, I have loved many times, and I really think with you, I can forgive all the things about you that really get my goat, and just find a higher plane with us.
On Weekend nights, I think about how fast you get us all away from our shitty day jobs and into our nightlife, and I am amazed at your speed and dedication. I wonder how you feel about having to go back and forth all night instead of partying down as well. I am sure you miss the raging fun, but at least you get to see it in transition, from one social gathering to another. Sometimes the train cars even become a mini party of their own due to drunken idiots! What fun! They bring the party to you, CTA. That is how much we love you.
I often curse your name when I have already brought it upon myself to be late to work, and you add to the problem by being late as well. And sometimes I get annoyed that you dont have more seats. Or you take a turn to quick and make me mash into another rider, thus breaking my silent morning and forcing me to utter "sorry" in my gravelly pre-coffee voice.
But despite all this, I honestly don't know what I would do without you. I need you in my life, always. I can't see myself without you, and my future looks so beautiful as long as you are around. So I will get over all my issues with you and keep trying to find new ways to love you and all you bring me each day.
Sincerely,
Yours forever,
Your sweet loving rider,
Leanne
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
There were two fires in two days in Chicago this week. The trains have been a mess because of them. I find it odd that they are both so large and disruptive and happened so close together...call me a sassy Nam Vet, but I think its a conspiracy. I think arson is involved and these people lighting these fires are trying to say something. If we all shut up and listen real close, I think we can hear what they are saying, just faintly...fuck all y'all and your stinkin train commutes!
You are right, arsonists! We should not be so hurried to get home. We should enjoy lounging on the platform for a few good minutes (20 to be exact) and read our books, enjoy our carefully selected i-tunes, find comfort in bitching with others about the delays...really take in the good life, you know?
Also, it brings people together. People forced to be nose to nose on the train. Bumping and apologizing all over the place. What spirit this brings to the Big City! And how!
Anyway, stop lighting fires so close to train lines. Its pissing us off. Thanks arsonists. Stay cool. (get it? HA!)
You are right, arsonists! We should not be so hurried to get home. We should enjoy lounging on the platform for a few good minutes (20 to be exact) and read our books, enjoy our carefully selected i-tunes, find comfort in bitching with others about the delays...really take in the good life, you know?
Also, it brings people together. People forced to be nose to nose on the train. Bumping and apologizing all over the place. What spirit this brings to the Big City! And how!
Anyway, stop lighting fires so close to train lines. Its pissing us off. Thanks arsonists. Stay cool. (get it? HA!)
Monday, October 23, 2006
A friend of mine was kind enough to reach into my hair while I was bent over and grabbing something out of my bag, pluck a HUGE spiny, dried out grey hair out of its dead follicle, and present it to me as a sort of birthday gift. She said "here you go," or "take a look at that," or something like that, with a big smile on her face. But I didn't even hear her. I just stared at the foreign body between my trembling fingers.
Now I know grey hair shouldn't be a big deal. I guess it is just a part of the aging process. But I am someone who happens to be terrified of getting old, and I happen to be in a bit of an emotional period in my life, and I happen to have never seen a grey hair on my head until that moment. So needless to say, I was a mess.
I honestly was brought to tears by this discovery. My friend of course felt terrible. She thought it was funny because she has many grey hairs, and she was sure I had seen at least one or two already, being the ancient 27 years old I am. But no. She unknowingly pulled out my first and hopefully only one. And got the scare of her life when it brought me to depths of depression as a result. I kept a hold on my tears, unwilling to let them spill. But it was a fine line. They danced on the rims of my eyelids. But not a single drop actually stained my face. Thank the Lord.
I guess I am letting my sadness get the best of me lately. It could be the darkness, the cold, the icy wind unwilling to let me enjoy my time outside and instead confining me to the small surface area of my apartment. I had done well for myself, I think. I was not very sad for about two months. I was freaking out, sure, but it was at a tolerable level I could handle. Now I am feeling a little paralyzed. I will push through it soon, I am sure, but for now it sure is annoying.
I think it was aggrivated by a sudden feeling of utter loneliness. I don't want to be friends with people who don't think I am important enough in their lives to make an effort for me. Why even bother? I am getting to a point where I think I want to let go of people who I don't hear from for a while...stop trying to keep in touch with walls that don't reach out to me as well. I really feel like I don't have a true friend in my vicinity anymore...someone who I can depend on, at least. Even those people I feel close to, I know if I really needed them, unless I was dying on the side of the road, they might be too busy. And I am a culprit too. I don't always make myself available to people when they need me. But usually I will try to make up for it if it happens, make a concerted effort to call or see them as soon as I can. I call even if it has been a while. I don't remember the last time someone did the same.
I think there are friends that fall into the "They just aren't that into you" category. And I am the girl who thinks (wrongly) that the excuses are because they really care, they were just too busy. But really, if they cared, they would make time. Somehow. Maybe not when I wanted it, but sometime soon after. When someone really wants to be with you, they find a way. And so with pals, if they really enjoyed your company and valued you, they would find a way. A lot of my friends "just aren't that into me," not as much as I am into them, I guess. And that is a hard thing to come to terms with, much like it is in a couple situation.
We are also all quite self centered now, in this life. I see it in the people close to me all the time. And sometimes in myself as well. Will that phase ever end? Or is that the only way we can be in this cutthroat capitalistic and cruel society? We have to focus on us or we will not be payed attention to by the world... we will slip through the cracks...
All this makes me wanna just lay down and sleep away the sadness.
Jeez I am so goth right now.
Ugh.
Now I know grey hair shouldn't be a big deal. I guess it is just a part of the aging process. But I am someone who happens to be terrified of getting old, and I happen to be in a bit of an emotional period in my life, and I happen to have never seen a grey hair on my head until that moment. So needless to say, I was a mess.
I honestly was brought to tears by this discovery. My friend of course felt terrible. She thought it was funny because she has many grey hairs, and she was sure I had seen at least one or two already, being the ancient 27 years old I am. But no. She unknowingly pulled out my first and hopefully only one. And got the scare of her life when it brought me to depths of depression as a result. I kept a hold on my tears, unwilling to let them spill. But it was a fine line. They danced on the rims of my eyelids. But not a single drop actually stained my face. Thank the Lord.
I guess I am letting my sadness get the best of me lately. It could be the darkness, the cold, the icy wind unwilling to let me enjoy my time outside and instead confining me to the small surface area of my apartment. I had done well for myself, I think. I was not very sad for about two months. I was freaking out, sure, but it was at a tolerable level I could handle. Now I am feeling a little paralyzed. I will push through it soon, I am sure, but for now it sure is annoying.
I think it was aggrivated by a sudden feeling of utter loneliness. I don't want to be friends with people who don't think I am important enough in their lives to make an effort for me. Why even bother? I am getting to a point where I think I want to let go of people who I don't hear from for a while...stop trying to keep in touch with walls that don't reach out to me as well. I really feel like I don't have a true friend in my vicinity anymore...someone who I can depend on, at least. Even those people I feel close to, I know if I really needed them, unless I was dying on the side of the road, they might be too busy. And I am a culprit too. I don't always make myself available to people when they need me. But usually I will try to make up for it if it happens, make a concerted effort to call or see them as soon as I can. I call even if it has been a while. I don't remember the last time someone did the same.
I think there are friends that fall into the "They just aren't that into you" category. And I am the girl who thinks (wrongly) that the excuses are because they really care, they were just too busy. But really, if they cared, they would make time. Somehow. Maybe not when I wanted it, but sometime soon after. When someone really wants to be with you, they find a way. And so with pals, if they really enjoyed your company and valued you, they would find a way. A lot of my friends "just aren't that into me," not as much as I am into them, I guess. And that is a hard thing to come to terms with, much like it is in a couple situation.
We are also all quite self centered now, in this life. I see it in the people close to me all the time. And sometimes in myself as well. Will that phase ever end? Or is that the only way we can be in this cutthroat capitalistic and cruel society? We have to focus on us or we will not be payed attention to by the world... we will slip through the cracks...
All this makes me wanna just lay down and sleep away the sadness.
Jeez I am so goth right now.
Ugh.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
I am Celebrating my 20th Blog by writing in a HUGE font!!!!!!!!
YeeeHawww!
Ok enough of that.
I miss my mother. I do.
I was at my boring temp job, endlessly sealing envelopes, and I was reading a literary magazine called "The Sun" to keep my brain cells active and my eyes open. There is a section called "Readers Write" where people submit short pieces about their experiences with a given topic.It is a wonderfully fresh and interesting section of the magazine, full of many voices and perspectives.
It seemed like there were about 3 or 4 stories in a row about mothers and the sacrifices they made, or their childrens' attempts to connect with them before they die, or how old and decrepid they have gotten in their old age, but how beautiful they still are. I kept coming across these heartfelt tales and being moved to near tears...mostly because I am at a highly emotional time of the month, but also because I am reminded of my own mother and how far away she is. I haven't lived near my mother since I was 17, but I at least saw her every few months in California. Now I see her once a year. Barely. And sometimes I have a clear image of her in the near future as a very old lady, and she is beautiful like the ladies in the stories I read.
Then you know what I do when she calls? I talk for a while, try to relate to her, then end up annoyed and hastily hanging up. I push her away when she is right there ready to talk. After I just lamented on how I wish I could see her more, I am turned into instant brat when one thing she says sets me off. It is ridiculous. I don't understand it. And I know I am not alone with this. Lots of people my age have difficulty seeing family, yet living so far away, we crave it incessantly.
Maybe it is not the family we miss, it's the sense of belonging, the ease of childhood. The comfort. And we may not ever be able to get that back. Maybe we can only try to recreate it by having a family of our own, and becoming that stable comfort for someone else. I guess that idea makes me understand the appeal of children for some people. A way to reach out to that life you miss, and be on the giving end this time, which I am sure is just as rewarding.
After all this, I guess I am really looking forward to visiting my family in California at Christmas. I think even if I get irritated with them, I am going to try to remember how much I missed them while I was here, and push against that feeling.
Family is so weird. As are the emotions they bring out in us, good and bad.
YeeeHawww!
Ok enough of that.
I miss my mother. I do.
I was at my boring temp job, endlessly sealing envelopes, and I was reading a literary magazine called "The Sun" to keep my brain cells active and my eyes open. There is a section called "Readers Write" where people submit short pieces about their experiences with a given topic.It is a wonderfully fresh and interesting section of the magazine, full of many voices and perspectives.
It seemed like there were about 3 or 4 stories in a row about mothers and the sacrifices they made, or their childrens' attempts to connect with them before they die, or how old and decrepid they have gotten in their old age, but how beautiful they still are. I kept coming across these heartfelt tales and being moved to near tears...mostly because I am at a highly emotional time of the month, but also because I am reminded of my own mother and how far away she is. I haven't lived near my mother since I was 17, but I at least saw her every few months in California. Now I see her once a year. Barely. And sometimes I have a clear image of her in the near future as a very old lady, and she is beautiful like the ladies in the stories I read.
Then you know what I do when she calls? I talk for a while, try to relate to her, then end up annoyed and hastily hanging up. I push her away when she is right there ready to talk. After I just lamented on how I wish I could see her more, I am turned into instant brat when one thing she says sets me off. It is ridiculous. I don't understand it. And I know I am not alone with this. Lots of people my age have difficulty seeing family, yet living so far away, we crave it incessantly.
Maybe it is not the family we miss, it's the sense of belonging, the ease of childhood. The comfort. And we may not ever be able to get that back. Maybe we can only try to recreate it by having a family of our own, and becoming that stable comfort for someone else. I guess that idea makes me understand the appeal of children for some people. A way to reach out to that life you miss, and be on the giving end this time, which I am sure is just as rewarding.
After all this, I guess I am really looking forward to visiting my family in California at Christmas. I think even if I get irritated with them, I am going to try to remember how much I missed them while I was here, and push against that feeling.
Family is so weird. As are the emotions they bring out in us, good and bad.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Mustaches Making a Comeback!!! (no, not the good kind)
The topic of female mustaches has come up a few times this week, either in conversation or right in front of my face. Now, I have nothing against mustaches, but when I see a woman with one, I have to wonder--doesn't she KNOW? Doesn't she CARE?
I happen to have friends who are cursed with some dark facial hair above their luscious sexy womanly lips (as if PMS isn't enough to deal with!). Now these lovely ladies are aware of their genetic disposition and take measures to keep things under control. Nair or whatever the kids use these days...
And I never really thought about how good it is that they do this, until I started at my new temp job. There is a woman I will not specify that has very pale skin and a very clear black mustache across her upper lip. I think she may be Italian or even Jewish, and let's face it, both backgrounds provide quite a hairy disposition. Yet she seems not to notice. I think she is the type that would care if she realized how gross it looked. But for some reason she is oblivious. I cannot help but stare at it when she is assigning me my newest slave project. I feel like she is a little woman Hitler with that black stuff going on, dictating what I do for the day.
I am lucky enough to be for the most part hairless, but I know if I suffered a different fate, I would shave that shit. I have a guy friend who shared that he once dated a girl with a tiny mustache, and every now and then he could feel it when he kissed her. He confessed that sometimes it really sicked him out. But he couldn't say anything because he didn't want to upset her.
Why should we all continue to be upset to spare one poor girl from being upset for maybe a day or two (before she shaves that shit)? She will get over it and thank us later. And we get to stop being grossed out whenever milk gets caught in her mustache, making it glisten in the light.
Lets end the female mustache once and for all, people. Tell someone you love to get over her man hair and save us all a little awkwardness every day.
The topic of female mustaches has come up a few times this week, either in conversation or right in front of my face. Now, I have nothing against mustaches, but when I see a woman with one, I have to wonder--doesn't she KNOW? Doesn't she CARE?
I happen to have friends who are cursed with some dark facial hair above their luscious sexy womanly lips (as if PMS isn't enough to deal with!). Now these lovely ladies are aware of their genetic disposition and take measures to keep things under control. Nair or whatever the kids use these days...
And I never really thought about how good it is that they do this, until I started at my new temp job. There is a woman I will not specify that has very pale skin and a very clear black mustache across her upper lip. I think she may be Italian or even Jewish, and let's face it, both backgrounds provide quite a hairy disposition. Yet she seems not to notice. I think she is the type that would care if she realized how gross it looked. But for some reason she is oblivious. I cannot help but stare at it when she is assigning me my newest slave project. I feel like she is a little woman Hitler with that black stuff going on, dictating what I do for the day.
I am lucky enough to be for the most part hairless, but I know if I suffered a different fate, I would shave that shit. I have a guy friend who shared that he once dated a girl with a tiny mustache, and every now and then he could feel it when he kissed her. He confessed that sometimes it really sicked him out. But he couldn't say anything because he didn't want to upset her.
Why should we all continue to be upset to spare one poor girl from being upset for maybe a day or two (before she shaves that shit)? She will get over it and thank us later. And we get to stop being grossed out whenever milk gets caught in her mustache, making it glisten in the light.
Lets end the female mustache once and for all, people. Tell someone you love to get over her man hair and save us all a little awkwardness every day.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Seventeen thousand papercuts later I am done with another excruciating day of stuffing envelopes for idiots. I swear I am not a temp, I am a chump they hired for slave labor. They must do this every year to some poor unsuspecting new temp. I was the goat this time. Damn. Well, lesson learned.
There is this thing happening recently online with some other blogs and with real world friends too. This sudden crisis about life. I mean, its always THERE, but maybe its the drastic change in weather or I don't know what, but people are getting laid off and hating their new job transitions and freaking out A LOT about money. And I am right there with them. How does one do all this living business? I mean the business of making one. Making a living does not seem much like living to me. It is quite the opposite. I feel like I lived more when I waitressed because at least I could make more money if I really wanted and there were always two good days for every miserable one...and there is the whole 5-6 hr shift thing that was nice. Actually I am surprised I don't mind the grind hours as much as I thought I would...its just the money that shocks and appalls me. How do I live off this? Let alone save?
Ok ok blah blah blah
Lets do something that will cheer me up. A list!
Ok...um...how about things I WON'T be for Halloween:
1. 26
2. alone
3. sober (yay!)
4. a "sexy" _____. (fill in whatever occupation normally isn't sexy but gets made sexy for a girlie girl to enjoy her Halloween and get gawked at like she hopes)
5. A republican
6. Michael Jackson
7. Pee Wee Herman (sigh* maybe next year...)
8. Pennywise (ew clowns!)
9. a terd (again)
10. warm (this is Chicago, folks)
11. Hungry (I will most likely get a free meal of some sort from some kind friend)
12. Amish (bad costume this year)
13. Bored (there is always something going on in the city! That is the beauty!)
Happy birthday to me!
PS I am finally going to be a Scarecrow this year, something I wanted to do for a long time but never got around to because of numerous complications. I am gonna be damn cute!
There is this thing happening recently online with some other blogs and with real world friends too. This sudden crisis about life. I mean, its always THERE, but maybe its the drastic change in weather or I don't know what, but people are getting laid off and hating their new job transitions and freaking out A LOT about money. And I am right there with them. How does one do all this living business? I mean the business of making one. Making a living does not seem much like living to me. It is quite the opposite. I feel like I lived more when I waitressed because at least I could make more money if I really wanted and there were always two good days for every miserable one...and there is the whole 5-6 hr shift thing that was nice. Actually I am surprised I don't mind the grind hours as much as I thought I would...its just the money that shocks and appalls me. How do I live off this? Let alone save?
Ok ok blah blah blah
Lets do something that will cheer me up. A list!
Ok...um...how about things I WON'T be for Halloween:
1. 26
2. alone
3. sober (yay!)
4. a "sexy" _____. (fill in whatever occupation normally isn't sexy but gets made sexy for a girlie girl to enjoy her Halloween and get gawked at like she hopes)
5. A republican
6. Michael Jackson
7. Pee Wee Herman (sigh* maybe next year...)
8. Pennywise (ew clowns!)
9. a terd (again)
10. warm (this is Chicago, folks)
11. Hungry (I will most likely get a free meal of some sort from some kind friend)
12. Amish (bad costume this year)
13. Bored (there is always something going on in the city! That is the beauty!)
Happy birthday to me!
PS I am finally going to be a Scarecrow this year, something I wanted to do for a long time but never got around to because of numerous complications. I am gonna be damn cute!
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
WARNING!!! The following post is a rant vomit session that you may not want to read for fear it may overwhelm you as much as it did the writer of such filth...proceed with caution:
I have discovered a dilemma with temping. While mindlessly stuffing papers into envelopes and listening to Mike Doughty and the Garden State sountrack for the 18th time in a row on my ghetto MP3 player, I realized that this office work I was doing wasn't mindless. It is mind-full! As in, my mind started to wander into the bad places I try to avoid. Like the places where I get sad and keep thinking about how much my life blows and jesus will I ever be able to afford the things I want, and why am I even here doing this, why aren't I traveling or writing or helping starving children eat some porriage or something!
Then I can't get the thoughts out. They have become a force not to be reckoned with. They dance and laugh at me, swirling in my head like so many brain tumors. I start to let Zack Bratt's music choice effect my mood as well, and suddenly I am almost weeping because right when I realize I am turning 27 in 21 days I hear the lyric "Let go, what are you waiting for, there is beauty in the breakdown...." And so I follow the advice and am now tearing up for reals, oh god, yeah, I am really gonna cry here at this stupid freaking HR desk that isn't even mine. While I stuff pamphlets into envelopes. Pamphlets about the risks of being fat stuffed into envelopes to be mailed to fat people. Oh god this is terrible. I want to leave. I can't leave. I have to make money. I can't even afford to take a class to better myself and get myself the hell out of this situation of having way too much brains and not enough experience to get a real thinking job, instead I have to sit here and do what monkeys could do. And know that I could be actually utilized so much better somewhere else but no one would ever give me a chance because who the fuck am I???
Ok so that was a taste of the bad places my brain went today. Now it is a bit more clear why I choose to avoid these places.
But temping is now a portal to hell, as far as I am concerned. I just think about all the no money I am making and being unhappy. And I feel very stuck though I know I am not. I know I can just "let go, jump in, what am I waiting for?" But somehow even knowing that congnatively, I am paralyzed. I have concrete slabs on my feet and move a lot slower with them. These slabs are made of insecurity and fear. Hooray! help!
I have discovered a dilemma with temping. While mindlessly stuffing papers into envelopes and listening to Mike Doughty and the Garden State sountrack for the 18th time in a row on my ghetto MP3 player, I realized that this office work I was doing wasn't mindless. It is mind-full! As in, my mind started to wander into the bad places I try to avoid. Like the places where I get sad and keep thinking about how much my life blows and jesus will I ever be able to afford the things I want, and why am I even here doing this, why aren't I traveling or writing or helping starving children eat some porriage or something!
Then I can't get the thoughts out. They have become a force not to be reckoned with. They dance and laugh at me, swirling in my head like so many brain tumors. I start to let Zack Bratt's music choice effect my mood as well, and suddenly I am almost weeping because right when I realize I am turning 27 in 21 days I hear the lyric "Let go, what are you waiting for, there is beauty in the breakdown...." And so I follow the advice and am now tearing up for reals, oh god, yeah, I am really gonna cry here at this stupid freaking HR desk that isn't even mine. While I stuff pamphlets into envelopes. Pamphlets about the risks of being fat stuffed into envelopes to be mailed to fat people. Oh god this is terrible. I want to leave. I can't leave. I have to make money. I can't even afford to take a class to better myself and get myself the hell out of this situation of having way too much brains and not enough experience to get a real thinking job, instead I have to sit here and do what monkeys could do. And know that I could be actually utilized so much better somewhere else but no one would ever give me a chance because who the fuck am I???
Ok so that was a taste of the bad places my brain went today. Now it is a bit more clear why I choose to avoid these places.
But temping is now a portal to hell, as far as I am concerned. I just think about all the no money I am making and being unhappy. And I feel very stuck though I know I am not. I know I can just "let go, jump in, what am I waiting for?" But somehow even knowing that congnatively, I am paralyzed. I have concrete slabs on my feet and move a lot slower with them. These slabs are made of insecurity and fear. Hooray! help!
Monday, October 09, 2006
Another day of temping passes through my fingertips.
I worked at Whole Foods today. I filed my sweet little ass off. It was as boring as golf, I tell you. It did not help that I started my day off getting a coffee at 7-11. This is never a wise choice and I should remember that. But sometimes I am daring and adventurous in the bad kind of way, and I challenge what I already know to be true. So the coffee. It was called French Roast and I doused it with french vanilla creamer, as I have many times before. And the resulting concoction tasted exactly like what I imagine piss would taste like. Warm and uriney. It was awful. So my morning started off sour like pee.
And it will hopefully end bitter like beer, for that is where I am headed now. To beerland. Or my local pub. Whatever you wanna call it.
I worked at Whole Foods today. I filed my sweet little ass off. It was as boring as golf, I tell you. It did not help that I started my day off getting a coffee at 7-11. This is never a wise choice and I should remember that. But sometimes I am daring and adventurous in the bad kind of way, and I challenge what I already know to be true. So the coffee. It was called French Roast and I doused it with french vanilla creamer, as I have many times before. And the resulting concoction tasted exactly like what I imagine piss would taste like. Warm and uriney. It was awful. So my morning started off sour like pee.
And it will hopefully end bitter like beer, for that is where I am headed now. To beerland. Or my local pub. Whatever you wanna call it.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
People who have big, boistrious laughs tend to reach higher positions in companies. That is what I have realized today, as another boring office day goes by. Whenever the head of the department laughs, bodies jump in their seats all across the floor. Hers is a laugh that is both jarring and infectious. Quieter women in their cubicles full of Disney characters say things like "Something really funny must be going on over there," and you can hear the envy and curiosity in their meek little voices. Everyone wishes they could be so free, so comfortable and genuinely amused that they could just burst forth such a loud cackle. Even I am momentarily distracted from my very important labeling job.
I think these people who laugh loud are in positions of power because they make everyone around them feel like the funniest person alive. Also, when you are "in on the joke," you get to know the reason for the big laugh and this is pleasing to most people who want to feel important or part of a group. These big laughers make everyone feel "cool."
I know a girl who always seems to get promoted quickly, even when SHE herself isn't quite sure she is qualified to be in whatever position it is. She is a widely known loud laugher, and I think somehow this, along with her obvious charm, has catapulted her to great corporate heights without her really even trying that hard. Thus proving my awesome theory of moving up in Corporate America.
So from now on I am going to try really hard to laugh loud and proud at anything remotely funny, especially from higher ups. Except the ladies with Disney characters in their cubicles. I don't want them to get the wrong impression that they are "cool" or something.
I think these people who laugh loud are in positions of power because they make everyone around them feel like the funniest person alive. Also, when you are "in on the joke," you get to know the reason for the big laugh and this is pleasing to most people who want to feel important or part of a group. These big laughers make everyone feel "cool."
I know a girl who always seems to get promoted quickly, even when SHE herself isn't quite sure she is qualified to be in whatever position it is. She is a widely known loud laugher, and I think somehow this, along with her obvious charm, has catapulted her to great corporate heights without her really even trying that hard. Thus proving my awesome theory of moving up in Corporate America.
So from now on I am going to try really hard to laugh loud and proud at anything remotely funny, especially from higher ups. Except the ladies with Disney characters in their cubicles. I don't want them to get the wrong impression that they are "cool" or something.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
To the left of my boyfriend's apartment building is a church. I walk by most mornings in a sleepy haze, shielding myself from the biting 7am winds and willing the sky to fall in so I don't have to got to work.
Today I was jarred out of my usual angry morning mood by the sight of chalk outlines of bodies on the sidewalk outside the church doors.
Was there some sort of mass murder out here? The bodies were all very small sillouettes. A child massacre?
After further inspection, I realized they were just a product of children having fun with colored sidewalk chalk. All these morbid looking chalk outlines in various poses. They each had the child's name written in nice careful handwriting along the torso. Meaning some adult supervisor had endorsed this chalk outlining as appropriate, and helped make it all happen.
At first I had thought perhaps some kid from the "bad side of town" had shared with the other children the images he sees outside the mini mart near his house--gang shootings resulting in real chalk outlines. "Hey Billy!" he would shout, "We should do what the policeman does!" Commence outlining.
But no, it seems this was an adult induced idea, given the naming of each child's torso, to show who's silloutte was who's. "Danny died of a gunshot," or "Lindsey was pushed out a window and landed with her leg twisted just so." Horrible deaths given real names...
What if we did that with real chalk outlines?
Anyway it was pretty intense and shook me up a bit. My brain wasn't quite prepared to see so many dead bodies strewn all over the sidewalk at 7am.
Today I was jarred out of my usual angry morning mood by the sight of chalk outlines of bodies on the sidewalk outside the church doors.
Was there some sort of mass murder out here? The bodies were all very small sillouettes. A child massacre?
After further inspection, I realized they were just a product of children having fun with colored sidewalk chalk. All these morbid looking chalk outlines in various poses. They each had the child's name written in nice careful handwriting along the torso. Meaning some adult supervisor had endorsed this chalk outlining as appropriate, and helped make it all happen.
At first I had thought perhaps some kid from the "bad side of town" had shared with the other children the images he sees outside the mini mart near his house--gang shootings resulting in real chalk outlines. "Hey Billy!" he would shout, "We should do what the policeman does!" Commence outlining.
But no, it seems this was an adult induced idea, given the naming of each child's torso, to show who's silloutte was who's. "Danny died of a gunshot," or "Lindsey was pushed out a window and landed with her leg twisted just so." Horrible deaths given real names...
What if we did that with real chalk outlines?
Anyway it was pretty intense and shook me up a bit. My brain wasn't quite prepared to see so many dead bodies strewn all over the sidewalk at 7am.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Monday, October 02, 2006
CTA Moments...
I waited a good amount of time for the train home today. I thought getting off work at 430 would be a blessing for my commute, but it turns out maybe not so much.
A crowded can of sardines at last arrived at the station. I crammed myself in between the doors and found solace in the middle section of the car. I let a small Mexican lady cram in with me and prayed my armpit didn't stink while I held on to the pole above her tiny head. After a day in an office wearing a cheap H&M collared shirt, there is no telling what the funk might be under my arms. Just saying.
I got myself comfortable with the situation.I checked my stance to make sure I could balance despite the train's quick turns and lurches forward and back, and I made sure my MP3 player was at the right volume so I could still vaguely hear the world around me. A double check of my bag--making sure it wasn't accidently open or knocking into someone--completed my checklist. I was ready for a 20 minute train ride home.
About 3 minutes into the ride, I noticed a warmth near me. Being in an overcrowded train, I wasn't surprised. As the Brown Line curves and twists, I often feel body heat from other passengers rub or brush against me. But this was different. It didn't go away. A man behind me and to my left was brushing up against me, not in an offensive "oh my God I can feel his boner" way or anything, but just a subtle sort of forced closeness. It alternated between various places--our arms, our hips, our lower backs...but the contact remained constant. And truthfully, I didn't make huge attempts to move away. I actually enjoyed the feeling of having no idea who he was but getting to feel the pressure of his hip against mine, or sense the heat radiating off his arm hairs, or feeling the weight of the day he had had in his feet. I could sense all of this, quietly, without ever looking him in the eye. And we shared a moment of human contact on the train for no reason beseides we had to- we were squished between a million other people.
These kinds of moments are why I moved to Chicago. In California, I felt the human contact shrinking away. I was always in my car or in a building or in my personal space bubble, rarely having to share much space with anyone. Here, in the city, there are forced interactions, and while at times they are irritating or not wanted, either way you are affected, every day, by your surroundings. No way to entirely "tune out" or not be present. And I like that.
So this guy and I shared a moment where I think we both actually enjoyed the feeling of another person's heat against us, and we let it happen more than we might have needed to. Certainly I let it happen more than if it had been some hairy old lady or something. And it was nice and not creepy but sort of comforting, like we were sharing our day for a moment, without words or eye contact.
I actually made accidental eye contact towards the end and we both turned our heads quickly like it had shattered our perceptions. And then he got off the train shortly after.
Ah,Chicago. How I do love thee.
I waited a good amount of time for the train home today. I thought getting off work at 430 would be a blessing for my commute, but it turns out maybe not so much.
A crowded can of sardines at last arrived at the station. I crammed myself in between the doors and found solace in the middle section of the car. I let a small Mexican lady cram in with me and prayed my armpit didn't stink while I held on to the pole above her tiny head. After a day in an office wearing a cheap H&M collared shirt, there is no telling what the funk might be under my arms. Just saying.
I got myself comfortable with the situation.I checked my stance to make sure I could balance despite the train's quick turns and lurches forward and back, and I made sure my MP3 player was at the right volume so I could still vaguely hear the world around me. A double check of my bag--making sure it wasn't accidently open or knocking into someone--completed my checklist. I was ready for a 20 minute train ride home.
About 3 minutes into the ride, I noticed a warmth near me. Being in an overcrowded train, I wasn't surprised. As the Brown Line curves and twists, I often feel body heat from other passengers rub or brush against me. But this was different. It didn't go away. A man behind me and to my left was brushing up against me, not in an offensive "oh my God I can feel his boner" way or anything, but just a subtle sort of forced closeness. It alternated between various places--our arms, our hips, our lower backs...but the contact remained constant. And truthfully, I didn't make huge attempts to move away. I actually enjoyed the feeling of having no idea who he was but getting to feel the pressure of his hip against mine, or sense the heat radiating off his arm hairs, or feeling the weight of the day he had had in his feet. I could sense all of this, quietly, without ever looking him in the eye. And we shared a moment of human contact on the train for no reason beseides we had to- we were squished between a million other people.
These kinds of moments are why I moved to Chicago. In California, I felt the human contact shrinking away. I was always in my car or in a building or in my personal space bubble, rarely having to share much space with anyone. Here, in the city, there are forced interactions, and while at times they are irritating or not wanted, either way you are affected, every day, by your surroundings. No way to entirely "tune out" or not be present. And I like that.
So this guy and I shared a moment where I think we both actually enjoyed the feeling of another person's heat against us, and we let it happen more than we might have needed to. Certainly I let it happen more than if it had been some hairy old lady or something. And it was nice and not creepy but sort of comforting, like we were sharing our day for a moment, without words or eye contact.
I actually made accidental eye contact towards the end and we both turned our heads quickly like it had shattered our perceptions. And then he got off the train shortly after.
Ah,Chicago. How I do love thee.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
I quit my job I guess. It is finally official.Having a record for being sort of half assed about a lot of things, I handled it in the usual way. I took some time off to try temping, then I never really went back. I called and planned on going in to talk to the boss about it (mentioned in my other blog) but I think God didn't want me to have to do that because it rained so fiercely yesterday. When faced with the rain, I did what any person who didn't really wanna do something would do. I called instead to investigate if it was even worth going down there for. After numerous phone tag calls, The boss and I finally touched base and he seemed even less into the whole talking thing than I was. So we handled it lamely over the phone. But I stressed that I had WANTED to do it right. It just didn't quite work out that way...
And another chapter of my existance is closed. Awkwardly closed, with maybe a doorstop smashed in there just in case, but closed enough for now.
I am not sure why I am so bad at confrontation. I really want to be the person who wows people with her quick thinking and logic, her professional manner and open frankness when she thinks something isn't right. But instead I freeze up when faced with actual eye to eye confrontation about what I really want. I hardly ever seem to know what I really want, and maybe that is my way of staying out of trouble. Knowing what you want means facing the sad truth that you may not get what you want. So instead, I stumble around trying for things halfassedly so i don't get too disappointed when I don't get things.
I don't know what I am really going for with this. It's Sunday and my brain isn't quite up to par. Maybe this is why most people don't blog on the weekends...
Another avoidance of going deeper right now...compliments of Leanne...
And another chapter of my existance is closed. Awkwardly closed, with maybe a doorstop smashed in there just in case, but closed enough for now.
I am not sure why I am so bad at confrontation. I really want to be the person who wows people with her quick thinking and logic, her professional manner and open frankness when she thinks something isn't right. But instead I freeze up when faced with actual eye to eye confrontation about what I really want. I hardly ever seem to know what I really want, and maybe that is my way of staying out of trouble. Knowing what you want means facing the sad truth that you may not get what you want. So instead, I stumble around trying for things halfassedly so i don't get too disappointed when I don't get things.
I don't know what I am really going for with this. It's Sunday and my brain isn't quite up to par. Maybe this is why most people don't blog on the weekends...
Another avoidance of going deeper right now...compliments of Leanne...
Saturday, September 30, 2006
So there is a new Reality TV program on Animal Planet called "Meercat Manor." Cameras follow around a tribe of meercats as they live, learn and love. Apparently it was a big hit last season and they have already began the next installment. I have come up with some alternative spinoff show titles.
Meercat Meth-house
Meercat Megamart
Meercat Mall
Meercat Mercado
Meercat Mansion
Meercat Music Hall
Meercat Menards
Meercat Monster Truck Rally
Meercat Mountain
Meercat 4-story walk-up
Meercat Meth-house
Meercat Megamart
Meercat Mall
Meercat Mercado
Meercat Mansion
Meercat Music Hall
Meercat Menards
Meercat Monster Truck Rally
Meercat Mountain
Meercat 4-story walk-up
Friday, September 29, 2006
Things I have done today at "work":
Watched the entire season premiere of "the office"
Ate a chocolate donut
Put a sticky note on the clear glass door of a conference room
answered the phone 5 times
read 2 newspapers
Prepared 2 Fed Ex envelopes
Opened the front door for people 8 times
Listened to the radio
Faxed some stuff
I am thrilled for the weekend but not looking forward to having to talk to my old boss about what I have been doing for the last few weeks. He thinks I am looking for another job. I actually have another job.
I would like to work just a day a week or something for him, but I doubt that will fly. So until I talk to him I have no idea where this is all going.
He and I have never gotten along, mostly because I get such an intense high school vibe from him. Like he is the Jock I HATED in school, and I am the Nerd girl he feels the need to pick on when he is having a bad day. Recently it had gotten better, we had been sort of almost pleasant to each other. But now that I have angered the gods within him I don't know if I will get a storm or not. I am just vowing to try to be as honest as possible with everyone I encounter lately, and the same goes for him.
Here is how I imagine Saturday's talk will go:
me: hey can I talk to you?
him: Uh, yeah, just let me go take care of some things first.
(he goes to the host desk, shuffles papers, trudges through the dining room into his office, goes online, shops for his kids, then after I wait at the bar for 20 min and get fed up and go into his office, he turns to me)
him: OK. So what's been going on? I haven't had you scheduled for almost 3 weeks.
me: I know. I wasn't real sure what that was all about either. I had requested Saturdays only but I guess you didn't need me those days?
him: well, yeah, I mean, there are people who are actually working regularly who should have priority over your one day request.
me: Right, right. Well I was working on getting some temp work anyway, so it worked out well that you didn't schedule me.
him: so are you quitting?
me: well, I would like to continue on just working Saturdays if you still need me.
him: No, I don't think that will work. It's silly to keep someone on just one day a week.
me: are you sure? Even during Christmas?
him: Yeah, we'll be fine. You can just quit now.
me: Well you know I would really like to put in a two week notice so that I am doing this right...
him: (laughing) you should have done that 2 weeks ago!
me: Well, I didn't know if my little experiment was going to work. Still don't entirely know what I am doing. But I would like to stay on great terms with this company and not just leave abruptly.
him: I don't even know what abruptly means.
me: I know. That's because you are just a stupid Jock who somehow got into a position of authority even though you don't know what the hell is going on half the time and make really bad decisions.
him: Oh yeah. I forgot.
me: of course you did. And you probably will forget again when I am not working here anymore and reminding you all the time.
him: Well maybe that is a good thing.
me: You know, you are right. I don't want to lower my standards and work for someone like you any longer. I think it is better if I just go. You will give me a good review if I need one, right?
him: Oh yeah sure.
me: great thanks!
(I shake his hand and leave free as a bird out the door. He feels foolish and takes out his feelings of inadequacy on his employees, who cringe in terror under his rath.)
Watched the entire season premiere of "the office"
Ate a chocolate donut
Put a sticky note on the clear glass door of a conference room
answered the phone 5 times
read 2 newspapers
Prepared 2 Fed Ex envelopes
Opened the front door for people 8 times
Listened to the radio
Faxed some stuff
I am thrilled for the weekend but not looking forward to having to talk to my old boss about what I have been doing for the last few weeks. He thinks I am looking for another job. I actually have another job.
I would like to work just a day a week or something for him, but I doubt that will fly. So until I talk to him I have no idea where this is all going.
He and I have never gotten along, mostly because I get such an intense high school vibe from him. Like he is the Jock I HATED in school, and I am the Nerd girl he feels the need to pick on when he is having a bad day. Recently it had gotten better, we had been sort of almost pleasant to each other. But now that I have angered the gods within him I don't know if I will get a storm or not. I am just vowing to try to be as honest as possible with everyone I encounter lately, and the same goes for him.
Here is how I imagine Saturday's talk will go:
me: hey can I talk to you?
him: Uh, yeah, just let me go take care of some things first.
(he goes to the host desk, shuffles papers, trudges through the dining room into his office, goes online, shops for his kids, then after I wait at the bar for 20 min and get fed up and go into his office, he turns to me)
him: OK. So what's been going on? I haven't had you scheduled for almost 3 weeks.
me: I know. I wasn't real sure what that was all about either. I had requested Saturdays only but I guess you didn't need me those days?
him: well, yeah, I mean, there are people who are actually working regularly who should have priority over your one day request.
me: Right, right. Well I was working on getting some temp work anyway, so it worked out well that you didn't schedule me.
him: so are you quitting?
me: well, I would like to continue on just working Saturdays if you still need me.
him: No, I don't think that will work. It's silly to keep someone on just one day a week.
me: are you sure? Even during Christmas?
him: Yeah, we'll be fine. You can just quit now.
me: Well you know I would really like to put in a two week notice so that I am doing this right...
him: (laughing) you should have done that 2 weeks ago!
me: Well, I didn't know if my little experiment was going to work. Still don't entirely know what I am doing. But I would like to stay on great terms with this company and not just leave abruptly.
him: I don't even know what abruptly means.
me: I know. That's because you are just a stupid Jock who somehow got into a position of authority even though you don't know what the hell is going on half the time and make really bad decisions.
him: Oh yeah. I forgot.
me: of course you did. And you probably will forget again when I am not working here anymore and reminding you all the time.
him: Well maybe that is a good thing.
me: You know, you are right. I don't want to lower my standards and work for someone like you any longer. I think it is better if I just go. You will give me a good review if I need one, right?
him: Oh yeah sure.
me: great thanks!
(I shake his hand and leave free as a bird out the door. He feels foolish and takes out his feelings of inadequacy on his employees, who cringe in terror under his rath.)
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Open Letter To Egor the Foreign Guy:
Dear Egor,
I am sorry I wasn't the girl you thought I was. I know the expectant look on my face as I stood waiting outside the IO Theatre last night could easily have been mistaken for the look of a girl waiting to meet you for the first time. But no, I was not the "Cecelia" you thought I was. I was just out there waiting for a friend.
When you came right up to me with that confident, excited look in your eye and asked "Cecelia?" in your thick foreign accent, you seemed so happy, Egor. That is why it was really hard for me to break it to you that alas, I was not. My only regret is that I reacted so poorly. I was quite confused and a bit taken aback at your directness with a stranger. I could only manage to mumble "No, no, I am not her," and step back awkwardly.
It was as if the light in your eyes died right before me, Egor! It broke my heart to see you that way! I know you meant well. I did too. I wanted the madness to stop right then and there. I wasn't her and there was no reason to prolong the torture any longer. I said sorry, too, Egor. But it WASN'T MY FAULT! Still, I felt terrible, wishing I was Cecelia with all my soul to make the pain stop.
And I appreciated your attempts to look good for this mystery girl. Your balding brown hair was combed forward in an effort to hide its eventual depletion, your squinty eyes were shining, and your accent certainly helped. I am sure Cecelia would have been impressed.
And the most charming thing was when you tried so sweetly to save face. You said "Awww, too bad...for me!" as you turned quickly to enter the theatre, your face turning red with embarassment.
Your pitiful attempt at a compliment did not go unnoticed, Egor! You thought I was Cecelia and that she was fairly attractive, and that was a relief. Realizing your mistake, you now had to contend with the fact that she may still be the ugly beast you fear she is! And so you made it clear that I was attractive and you were "missing out" by leaving me to go find your real date. But you went to find her anyway. And that, Egor, is beautiful.
I hope Cecelia finds out you are just as charming and kind hearted in person as you are online. And I wish you luck with all your other dating adventures in America. Welcome, Egor. Welcome.
Sincerely,Leanne, the wrong girl
Dear Egor,
I am sorry I wasn't the girl you thought I was. I know the expectant look on my face as I stood waiting outside the IO Theatre last night could easily have been mistaken for the look of a girl waiting to meet you for the first time. But no, I was not the "Cecelia" you thought I was. I was just out there waiting for a friend.
When you came right up to me with that confident, excited look in your eye and asked "Cecelia?" in your thick foreign accent, you seemed so happy, Egor. That is why it was really hard for me to break it to you that alas, I was not. My only regret is that I reacted so poorly. I was quite confused and a bit taken aback at your directness with a stranger. I could only manage to mumble "No, no, I am not her," and step back awkwardly.
It was as if the light in your eyes died right before me, Egor! It broke my heart to see you that way! I know you meant well. I did too. I wanted the madness to stop right then and there. I wasn't her and there was no reason to prolong the torture any longer. I said sorry, too, Egor. But it WASN'T MY FAULT! Still, I felt terrible, wishing I was Cecelia with all my soul to make the pain stop.
And I appreciated your attempts to look good for this mystery girl. Your balding brown hair was combed forward in an effort to hide its eventual depletion, your squinty eyes were shining, and your accent certainly helped. I am sure Cecelia would have been impressed.
And the most charming thing was when you tried so sweetly to save face. You said "Awww, too bad...for me!" as you turned quickly to enter the theatre, your face turning red with embarassment.
Your pitiful attempt at a compliment did not go unnoticed, Egor! You thought I was Cecelia and that she was fairly attractive, and that was a relief. Realizing your mistake, you now had to contend with the fact that she may still be the ugly beast you fear she is! And so you made it clear that I was attractive and you were "missing out" by leaving me to go find your real date. But you went to find her anyway. And that, Egor, is beautiful.
I hope Cecelia finds out you are just as charming and kind hearted in person as you are online. And I wish you luck with all your other dating adventures in America. Welcome, Egor. Welcome.
Sincerely,Leanne, the wrong girl
Showered at the boy's house this morning. Found a wonderful little metaphor for life in said shower. Brightened my morning quite a bit. That and his roommie's glorious sharing of fresh coffee with me.
Oh yeah, so the metaphor.
I noticed a tiny spider on the shower curtain. She was at my eye level, and she was trying to make her way UP the curtain, despite numerous obstacles, such as the slick material of the curtain, the water droplets all around, the shaking of the curtain occasionally when I brushed up against it...
There were a lot of reasons why she SHOULDN"T be there. But she must have had a purpose, because she had made it so far already (eye level! Wow!) and continued to struggle up that curtain. I thought she was crazy. Why and how did she get there in the first place? She was one determined little spidey.
After I finished up, I checked on her again, and she had not made much progress. In fact, she had resolved to tighten up and curl into a spider ball of sorts, legs kinked together and close to her body. She was almost cowering. She clearly wasn't making anymore progress, that was obvious. I wanted to help, but there was nothing I could really do that felt right. And I was running late, so pep talks were not in order today. Certainly not for spiders I hardly knew.
So I just left her alone. She would gather her strength again, I was sure of it.
This spider made me think of people--myself and friends, primarily. But even just humans in general. We find ourselves on trecherous paths trying to make it, striving to do what we love or move forward in careers we aren't sure of, wondering how the hell we even got here. It is certainly not anything like we imagined when we were young. Yet every day we attempt bigger and bigger things, facing obstacles and judgment from others. But the journey, however slippery, is what is important.
And sometimes, just for sanity's sake, we have to curl up into a little ball and just hold on for a while. This can make us stronger sometimes, or it can paralyze and cripple us. It is all in how you decide to use these sort of "kinked up in a spider ball holding on for dear life" times.
What we all need to do is help each other through them when we can, or, if a pep talk isn't the answer, just leave each other alone to figure it out. And I am sure we all will, in our own way at our own pace.
And for those people who don't ever need that time to curl up in protection mode?
Fuck all y'all.
Oh yeah, so the metaphor.
I noticed a tiny spider on the shower curtain. She was at my eye level, and she was trying to make her way UP the curtain, despite numerous obstacles, such as the slick material of the curtain, the water droplets all around, the shaking of the curtain occasionally when I brushed up against it...
There were a lot of reasons why she SHOULDN"T be there. But she must have had a purpose, because she had made it so far already (eye level! Wow!) and continued to struggle up that curtain. I thought she was crazy. Why and how did she get there in the first place? She was one determined little spidey.
After I finished up, I checked on her again, and she had not made much progress. In fact, she had resolved to tighten up and curl into a spider ball of sorts, legs kinked together and close to her body. She was almost cowering. She clearly wasn't making anymore progress, that was obvious. I wanted to help, but there was nothing I could really do that felt right. And I was running late, so pep talks were not in order today. Certainly not for spiders I hardly knew.
So I just left her alone. She would gather her strength again, I was sure of it.
This spider made me think of people--myself and friends, primarily. But even just humans in general. We find ourselves on trecherous paths trying to make it, striving to do what we love or move forward in careers we aren't sure of, wondering how the hell we even got here. It is certainly not anything like we imagined when we were young. Yet every day we attempt bigger and bigger things, facing obstacles and judgment from others. But the journey, however slippery, is what is important.
And sometimes, just for sanity's sake, we have to curl up into a little ball and just hold on for a while. This can make us stronger sometimes, or it can paralyze and cripple us. It is all in how you decide to use these sort of "kinked up in a spider ball holding on for dear life" times.
What we all need to do is help each other through them when we can, or, if a pep talk isn't the answer, just leave each other alone to figure it out. And I am sure we all will, in our own way at our own pace.
And for those people who don't ever need that time to curl up in protection mode?
Fuck all y'all.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
I am listening to a random internet radio station that plays just what I like and it is making me intensely comfortable and cozy here at the desk. As I play in every way possible on the internet, I always keep my finger on the mouse to toggle back to the office email page...not that anyone really pays attention, or even really cares for that matter. But it's more of a game I play with myself: "Will I be able to hide the blog before someone walks by and sees it? "
I played a similar game when I was a child to keep myself amused when no one really cared: "How can I get from one end of the house to the other without anyone seeing me?"
I remember being so small and covert. I hid behind chairs and dove under tables and crawled as silently as possible across endless miles of kitchen floor, all the while my eyes trained on the newspaper covering up my father's face. Making it across his office doorway was easy...he was never really paying attention to much of anything. But getting past the gaping entryway to the living room when mom was watching TV? Nearly impossible. One had to stop breathing or she could sense you.
I used to think she had ESP.
She just chose not to use it too often because she didn't want to know what I was REALLY up to.
Anyway, so back to working...or not working, as it were.
I am cozy enough on this slightly chilly fall day, hanging out in my special ergonomic (how the balls DO you spell that?) chair, dreaming about being a real writer, doing whatever I want online save look at porn, thinking about the future, getting overwhelmed, keeping it simple--thinking about two days from now...That's better. And wondering (yet again) if I made the right decision declining the opportunity to have this 14 dollar an hour job permanently.
I fret oh so much. Really, it's annoying even to me, folks.
I think I did the right thing. I need stimuli as well as free time to play. There has got to be a job like that out there--where I still feel important but not without down time too.
That is my ideal right now.
That and just being paid to act or write all day.
Or maybe bowl. Being paid to bowl would be pretty cool too. Not well, mind you. Just bowl however you do. And get paid. Any gig like that out there? Anyone? Anyone?
No?
Damn.
Well I guess that is it for now. Tomorrow is another day where I will strive to arrive (rhyming is so satisfying!) on time yet again so no one bitches at me.
I played a similar game when I was a child to keep myself amused when no one really cared: "How can I get from one end of the house to the other without anyone seeing me?"
I remember being so small and covert. I hid behind chairs and dove under tables and crawled as silently as possible across endless miles of kitchen floor, all the while my eyes trained on the newspaper covering up my father's face. Making it across his office doorway was easy...he was never really paying attention to much of anything. But getting past the gaping entryway to the living room when mom was watching TV? Nearly impossible. One had to stop breathing or she could sense you.
I used to think she had ESP.
She just chose not to use it too often because she didn't want to know what I was REALLY up to.
Anyway, so back to working...or not working, as it were.
I am cozy enough on this slightly chilly fall day, hanging out in my special ergonomic (how the balls DO you spell that?) chair, dreaming about being a real writer, doing whatever I want online save look at porn, thinking about the future, getting overwhelmed, keeping it simple--thinking about two days from now...That's better. And wondering (yet again) if I made the right decision declining the opportunity to have this 14 dollar an hour job permanently.
I fret oh so much. Really, it's annoying even to me, folks.
I think I did the right thing. I need stimuli as well as free time to play. There has got to be a job like that out there--where I still feel important but not without down time too.
That is my ideal right now.
That and just being paid to act or write all day.
Or maybe bowl. Being paid to bowl would be pretty cool too. Not well, mind you. Just bowl however you do. And get paid. Any gig like that out there? Anyone? Anyone?
No?
Damn.
Well I guess that is it for now. Tomorrow is another day where I will strive to arrive (rhyming is so satisfying!) on time yet again so no one bitches at me.
I would like to attempt to list 100 things about me. I think it will not only make me stretch my pea brain but also inspire me and make me realize I am a lot cooler than I sometimes think I am. In fact, I think we all should do this from time to time! Everyone take a second sometime this week to jot down 100 things about yourself. maybe you will discover something you never knew about the one person you spend allllllll your time with--YOU!
(Jeez I sound like a self-help guru or something...hand me some dolphin shorts and cue "Sweating to the Oldies" music!)
Drumroll please...
1 I wear cool glasses
2 I have the nasal twang in my voice you only acquire living in Fresno, CA
3 My favorite sushi roll is a crunchy roll that doesn't seem to exist in Chicago. (I will find one, dammit!)
4 I look good in skirts and heels but I never wear them
5 I take a train to work every day
6 I am a really good waitress (if I so choose to be)
7 I am addicted to chocolate
8 I file my nails anywhere, anytime, if need be
9 I get mousy and shy when I don't know anyone (it's true! you are never there to witness it, but it's true!)
10 I pay all my parking tickets and bills on time
11 I got out of jury duty (thank God! It was a close call, I would say)
12 I had a cat named cuddles that I talked to when I was little
13 I am an actress
14 I am a writer
15 I am a good friend to talk to. Not so good with the gifts or remembering birthdays or taking you to lunch, but good to talk to
16 I have great taste in music, and love nothing more than to share it with people I love
17 I learn something new about computers every day.
18 I am almost painfully logical at times...
19 Then I will turn around and think ridiculously irrationally for a good long while
20 That being said, I am a very complex person, totally contradictory most of the time
21 I have a thing for boys that look Jewish-always have, always will
22 I pick up on things pretty darn quickly
23 I actually like exercising (this is a pretty recent discovery)
24 I don't fit in at office buildings and that is ok, I will still work there
25 I don't fit in with hipsters and that is ok, I will still try to befriend them
26 There are a lot of stuffed animals on my bed
27 I only like my hair when Frank is around
28 I am not skinny or fat, but somewhere awkwardly inbetween
29 I smoked pot with Woody Harrelson
30 I surfed in La Jolla and loved it
31 I left places I have lived that made me unhappy
32 I explored most cities in California
33 I have to plug my nose when I jump in the pool...still
34 I can't dive for the life of me
35 I am pretty flexible
36 I sit on my porch way too much
37 I read an insane amount of information every day and hardly absorb any of it
38 I swam in a secret waterin' hole only locals knew about on an Illinois hiking trail
39 I often internalize songs and make them mean something deeper
40 My favorite drink is Vodka and tonic
41 My favorite color is brown
42 I like making people feel comfortable enough to talk to me about anything
43 I am crude
44 I am a very gassy person
45 I sweat a lot, whether I exert energy or not
46 I am very sexual but not too sexy most of the time
47 I once had purple hair (just in the front)
48 I used to sneak out of my house to go drink and smoke and never got officially caught
49 There are thoughts I have that make no sense and it's ok to call me out on it
50 I need a lot of reassurance
51 I am a tad bit codependent
52 I have the kind of smile where my lips disappear and my teeth look enormous
53 I hate and love my freckles at the same time
54 I am a closet optimist and I am not ready to come out fully
55 I talk about things but don't take action nearly enough
56 I often do things based on fear
57 I often don't do things based on fear
58 I climbed Mount Baldy in the snow in jeans and ate dehydrated food that was delicious
59 I love rollercoasters
60 I love Halloween and not just because it is my birthday
61 I own an MP3 player but not an IPOD
62 I keep anything anyone gives me so I can look at it later and remember them
63 My favorite type of music can be best described as "guitar-based, electronic indie pop"
64 I have had my heart broken and turned out better than I ever thought possible at the time
65 I have broken hearts and I always hate it, every time, no matter the circumstances
66 There are many hemp necklaces that I keep in a red box even though I never wear them
67 I do not have one piece of expensive or fine jewelry with me in Chicago
68 Speaking of which, I put all I could fit into my jetta and drove cross country to move to Chicago!
69 My mother was also in on the above road trip and I am glad I let her come because it made the time very special and we are not very close so that is important
70 I want to own a bearded dragon someday
71 And a chihuahua
72 I love being in a smoky bar in the middle of a snowstorm
73 I collect fall leaves in Chicago to send to people I love
74 I am terrified of old age
75 I have gone on a hay ride in the dark
76 I am judgmental but always open to having my mind changed
77 I don't have too many strong opinions about anything, but when I do, you'll know about it
78 I get bouts of uncontrollable hyperactive energy and have to jump around and say nonsensical things for a while
79 I shake uncontrollably almost all the time
80 I get anxious about little things and make them HUGE
81 I like to be considered "funny"
82 I lie and say I am fine a lot
83 I secretly cry about nothing and everything at random times
84 Gross things make me happy but I will still be grossed out
85 I am a great secret keeper as long as I am able to tell ONE other person (that doesn't know anyone involved, of course)
86 Try as I might, I really could never get into candles and incense
87 I like cats more than dogs
88 I used to think I could turn into a dog
89 When I was little I used to rub against trees with the boy down the street and call it "the good feeling"
90 Sometimes when I was very young I really wanted to die
91 I have won awards in all the things I love
92 Anything I spot that is strange I will stop and look at for at least a few minutes
93 Once I knew what I wanted in a relationship, I found it
94 I waste a lot of time doing stupid things
95 I enjoy wasting time doing stupid things
96 I can't remember what I did the day before and that scares me
97 There are many things I want to do that I haven't..yet
98 I could spend hours in a museum
99 I really like having someone with me to share moments
100 I have no idea what my future holds...and am learning to be ok with it
(Jeez I sound like a self-help guru or something...hand me some dolphin shorts and cue "Sweating to the Oldies" music!)
Drumroll please...
1 I wear cool glasses
2 I have the nasal twang in my voice you only acquire living in Fresno, CA
3 My favorite sushi roll is a crunchy roll that doesn't seem to exist in Chicago. (I will find one, dammit!)
4 I look good in skirts and heels but I never wear them
5 I take a train to work every day
6 I am a really good waitress (if I so choose to be)
7 I am addicted to chocolate
8 I file my nails anywhere, anytime, if need be
9 I get mousy and shy when I don't know anyone (it's true! you are never there to witness it, but it's true!)
10 I pay all my parking tickets and bills on time
11 I got out of jury duty (thank God! It was a close call, I would say)
12 I had a cat named cuddles that I talked to when I was little
13 I am an actress
14 I am a writer
15 I am a good friend to talk to. Not so good with the gifts or remembering birthdays or taking you to lunch, but good to talk to
16 I have great taste in music, and love nothing more than to share it with people I love
17 I learn something new about computers every day.
18 I am almost painfully logical at times...
19 Then I will turn around and think ridiculously irrationally for a good long while
20 That being said, I am a very complex person, totally contradictory most of the time
21 I have a thing for boys that look Jewish-always have, always will
22 I pick up on things pretty darn quickly
23 I actually like exercising (this is a pretty recent discovery)
24 I don't fit in at office buildings and that is ok, I will still work there
25 I don't fit in with hipsters and that is ok, I will still try to befriend them
26 There are a lot of stuffed animals on my bed
27 I only like my hair when Frank is around
28 I am not skinny or fat, but somewhere awkwardly inbetween
29 I smoked pot with Woody Harrelson
30 I surfed in La Jolla and loved it
31 I left places I have lived that made me unhappy
32 I explored most cities in California
33 I have to plug my nose when I jump in the pool...still
34 I can't dive for the life of me
35 I am pretty flexible
36 I sit on my porch way too much
37 I read an insane amount of information every day and hardly absorb any of it
38 I swam in a secret waterin' hole only locals knew about on an Illinois hiking trail
39 I often internalize songs and make them mean something deeper
40 My favorite drink is Vodka and tonic
41 My favorite color is brown
42 I like making people feel comfortable enough to talk to me about anything
43 I am crude
44 I am a very gassy person
45 I sweat a lot, whether I exert energy or not
46 I am very sexual but not too sexy most of the time
47 I once had purple hair (just in the front)
48 I used to sneak out of my house to go drink and smoke and never got officially caught
49 There are thoughts I have that make no sense and it's ok to call me out on it
50 I need a lot of reassurance
51 I am a tad bit codependent
52 I have the kind of smile where my lips disappear and my teeth look enormous
53 I hate and love my freckles at the same time
54 I am a closet optimist and I am not ready to come out fully
55 I talk about things but don't take action nearly enough
56 I often do things based on fear
57 I often don't do things based on fear
58 I climbed Mount Baldy in the snow in jeans and ate dehydrated food that was delicious
59 I love rollercoasters
60 I love Halloween and not just because it is my birthday
61 I own an MP3 player but not an IPOD
62 I keep anything anyone gives me so I can look at it later and remember them
63 My favorite type of music can be best described as "guitar-based, electronic indie pop"
64 I have had my heart broken and turned out better than I ever thought possible at the time
65 I have broken hearts and I always hate it, every time, no matter the circumstances
66 There are many hemp necklaces that I keep in a red box even though I never wear them
67 I do not have one piece of expensive or fine jewelry with me in Chicago
68 Speaking of which, I put all I could fit into my jetta and drove cross country to move to Chicago!
69 My mother was also in on the above road trip and I am glad I let her come because it made the time very special and we are not very close so that is important
70 I want to own a bearded dragon someday
71 And a chihuahua
72 I love being in a smoky bar in the middle of a snowstorm
73 I collect fall leaves in Chicago to send to people I love
74 I am terrified of old age
75 I have gone on a hay ride in the dark
76 I am judgmental but always open to having my mind changed
77 I don't have too many strong opinions about anything, but when I do, you'll know about it
78 I get bouts of uncontrollable hyperactive energy and have to jump around and say nonsensical things for a while
79 I shake uncontrollably almost all the time
80 I get anxious about little things and make them HUGE
81 I like to be considered "funny"
82 I lie and say I am fine a lot
83 I secretly cry about nothing and everything at random times
84 Gross things make me happy but I will still be grossed out
85 I am a great secret keeper as long as I am able to tell ONE other person (that doesn't know anyone involved, of course)
86 Try as I might, I really could never get into candles and incense
87 I like cats more than dogs
88 I used to think I could turn into a dog
89 When I was little I used to rub against trees with the boy down the street and call it "the good feeling"
90 Sometimes when I was very young I really wanted to die
91 I have won awards in all the things I love
92 Anything I spot that is strange I will stop and look at for at least a few minutes
93 Once I knew what I wanted in a relationship, I found it
94 I waste a lot of time doing stupid things
95 I enjoy wasting time doing stupid things
96 I can't remember what I did the day before and that scares me
97 There are many things I want to do that I haven't..yet
98 I could spend hours in a museum
99 I really like having someone with me to share moments
100 I have no idea what my future holds...and am learning to be ok with it
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
I used to watch those "Leggo My Eggo" commercials and think they were talking about "Legos", the childrens' building block toys. I really was convinced. I didn't "get" what they were really going for (Let GO of My Eggo) until about 8th grade. Sad but true.
On that note, I realized a few other things of that nature in 8th grade. The commercial for "Nut&Honey" cereal? They were saying "Nuthin, honey" to their pesky loved ones, not simply stating the cereal name, like I assumed. At Church, when the priest finished up a mass, he was saying "thanks BE to God," not "thanks speed of God." While I sort of understood that my interpretations of these things didn't quite makes sense, I simply figured it was everyone around me that made up these odd sayings that was crazy.
It's sort of like that year, my developing brain finally reached it's maturity and suddenly the world made sense. Too bad it didn't last.
It is odd to me that it took that long for me to question and at last figure out the real intention behind these phrases. Why wasn't my brain bright enough to question my perception, as I so often do now?
But then I think about how some people my age still say supposably and irregardless, and I realize that it can happen at any age, anytime. Sometimes we just don't use our brains to make sure what we think is true is really what is going on. We take things at face value. We repeat what other people say and take it for truth.
It's not always truth. There were no legos in that commercial. They were not talking about my favorite childhood toy.
They were telling me to let go.
On that note, I realized a few other things of that nature in 8th grade. The commercial for "Nut&Honey" cereal? They were saying "Nuthin, honey" to their pesky loved ones, not simply stating the cereal name, like I assumed. At Church, when the priest finished up a mass, he was saying "thanks BE to God," not "thanks speed of God." While I sort of understood that my interpretations of these things didn't quite makes sense, I simply figured it was everyone around me that made up these odd sayings that was crazy.
It's sort of like that year, my developing brain finally reached it's maturity and suddenly the world made sense. Too bad it didn't last.
It is odd to me that it took that long for me to question and at last figure out the real intention behind these phrases. Why wasn't my brain bright enough to question my perception, as I so often do now?
But then I think about how some people my age still say supposably and irregardless, and I realize that it can happen at any age, anytime. Sometimes we just don't use our brains to make sure what we think is true is really what is going on. We take things at face value. We repeat what other people say and take it for truth.
It's not always truth. There were no legos in that commercial. They were not talking about my favorite childhood toy.
They were telling me to let go.
Monday, September 25, 2006
I was reading an article on company employees wasting office hours playing online and taking care of personal business...
While I understand their concern about decreases in productivity, I also think businesses need to pick their battles and be careful not to generalize their policies about it, otherwise they risk alienating their employees in a big way.
There are some people who abuse the system, yes. But for those who make sure to get all their other important work done before taking care of personal things, punishing them as well as the abusers could really hurt the work place vibe.
As an employee, you have agreed to give up 40+ hours of your week to this company. Those hours are usually the only hours that everything else you may need to utilize (businesses, banks, doctors, etc...) are open as well. So you give up the opportunity to take care of some needs you may have so that you can be at your job during those hours. In exchange, I feel it is your right to take care of some of those things while you are at work. If all your work gets done still, what does it matter if you take an extra 10 min at lunch? Or spare 5 min to pay a bill or two online? Or call your credit card company to complain about a charge? These are things you simply cannot take care of properly sometimes due to the time spent at your job place.
I think it is unfortunate that we cannot treat people like the adults they are and trust them to get the work done first, then take care of personal things. But if we have to "restrict" their use of internet, I think simply expressing to the employees the expectations about internet use could be very beneficial to the employer. Let employees know that they can use computers for personal use, but only after work is done for the day, or as long as everything that needs attention right away gets attended to. Treating people like the freeminded adults they are is the first step in getting them to make smart decisions. Restricting their freedoms in a mass company policy is the first step in driving them away, or cutting morale, or undermining their intelligence.
If after giving them this talk about expectations, your employees still waste tons of time online, then it's time to take more action.
Says the girl who is online because there really is not much else for her to do sometimes...
While I understand their concern about decreases in productivity, I also think businesses need to pick their battles and be careful not to generalize their policies about it, otherwise they risk alienating their employees in a big way.
There are some people who abuse the system, yes. But for those who make sure to get all their other important work done before taking care of personal things, punishing them as well as the abusers could really hurt the work place vibe.
As an employee, you have agreed to give up 40+ hours of your week to this company. Those hours are usually the only hours that everything else you may need to utilize (businesses, banks, doctors, etc...) are open as well. So you give up the opportunity to take care of some needs you may have so that you can be at your job during those hours. In exchange, I feel it is your right to take care of some of those things while you are at work. If all your work gets done still, what does it matter if you take an extra 10 min at lunch? Or spare 5 min to pay a bill or two online? Or call your credit card company to complain about a charge? These are things you simply cannot take care of properly sometimes due to the time spent at your job place.
I think it is unfortunate that we cannot treat people like the adults they are and trust them to get the work done first, then take care of personal things. But if we have to "restrict" their use of internet, I think simply expressing to the employees the expectations about internet use could be very beneficial to the employer. Let employees know that they can use computers for personal use, but only after work is done for the day, or as long as everything that needs attention right away gets attended to. Treating people like the freeminded adults they are is the first step in getting them to make smart decisions. Restricting their freedoms in a mass company policy is the first step in driving them away, or cutting morale, or undermining their intelligence.
If after giving them this talk about expectations, your employees still waste tons of time online, then it's time to take more action.
Says the girl who is online because there really is not much else for her to do sometimes...
Friday, September 22, 2006
An hour and 22 minutes until my first week of temping is over.
What I would rather be doing right now...
1 Dancing with myself
2 eating e coli spinish leaves
3 Reading a terrible book I secretly love ( come on we all have one)
4 Counting the buildings in Chicago from the huge glass window on the 39th floor
5 Making out with my boyfriend
6 Making out with anyone's boyfriend
7 Chopping onions
8 Sailing the seven seas
9 Drinking a warm beer (I know, its crazy but true)
10 Listening to the new Paris Hilton album (I know, crazier but true)
What I would rather be doing right now...
1 Dancing with myself
2 eating e coli spinish leaves
3 Reading a terrible book I secretly love ( come on we all have one)
4 Counting the buildings in Chicago from the huge glass window on the 39th floor
5 Making out with my boyfriend
6 Making out with anyone's boyfriend
7 Chopping onions
8 Sailing the seven seas
9 Drinking a warm beer (I know, its crazy but true)
10 Listening to the new Paris Hilton album (I know, crazier but true)
Thursday, September 21, 2006
I have officially flew the coop. Ok well maybe not entirely, but in spirit at least. I am transitioning from running my ass around a restaurant for shitty tippers to sitting at a desk and smiling at everyone. Yes, I have gone to temping, everyone. And in this moment of transition, I have realized a thing or 2...or 5.
1) I hate people
I know, it seems a bit much. But honestly, after working at a restaurant in a MALL, you see quite a plethora of people. All different walks of life come in. And it ain't pretty. So maybe I don't hate all people, but a great many that I have come across. I have probably come across more wackos treating me like shit than the average joe who has all limbs or isn't horribly disfigured. That is impressive. And it has caused me to hate people, whether I want to or not.
2) I am not a friendly person
I used to be. Seriously. Ask anyone from like...3 years ago or so. I can even fake friendly still! But I am coming to terms with the fact that I am not, by nature, friendly anymore. Friendly has become something I put on to get a tip. An act. And so genuine friendliness is long dead. I want to be friendly. But when I try, I just sound high pitched and insincere. Ever seen pictures where a person is smiling but their eyes are kinda dead? That is me most of the time when I try to be friendly these days.
3) I am lazy.
This is the worst. I don't think I always was...I double majored in college! That's something, right? Something a highly motivated person would do, right? Anyway I am too tired and listless to write anymore about that one...
4) I love change, yet fear it with such a fierceness.
It's like my abusive husband or something. I love it, I believe that it is good for me, yet it wears me down so that I have no self esteem left! I get anxious when it is close, crave it when it is away.
5) I kinda suck at office jobs so far.
At least it feels like it. Maybe it is the role of the temp to feel this way. But I want to relax and have a good time and meet everyone and laugh and be crude and stuff here and there, WHILE still getting shit done, and done well. Why can't an office have it both ways? Maybe I am just starting out in the wrong office. We shall see. But I do feel very stifled in this environment. Sorta like I am in Church or something.
6) Being poor is scary but sometimes necessary.
To get where you need to go, you gotta suck it up sometimes and be poor. Entry level office jobs help that, because you go home and make dinner and then are so tired you don't go out and spend money. So being a loser after 9pm saves you money and allows you to work at an office without feeling too poor! It's a lovely cycle, really.
7) I can still change!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This is my favorite one. I was miserable waiting tables. I don't like hating people...It takes way more effort to hate than to not hate. So I am quitting (sort of...cutting back...hey I move slowly, ok?!) in order to love people again. I want to feel bad for the old lady crossing the street alone, not think "that old bitch would probably ask for hot water and tip me 10 percent!"
I want to be friendly again! I want to genuinely smile at a stranger or go out of my way to talk to new people without being exhausted from talking to people I don't want to talk to all day while waiting tables! So I stopped waiting tables as much so I could try to get that back.
I want to be active, not lazy! I want to have energy and a more routine schedule so I can be more disciplined with my craft and therefore more productive! So I am trying to do just that.
I want to be good at office work! So when I find the job I actually want to do, I can be ready for it with all my office knowledge and experience!
I want to be poor!
Wait a minute. Ok that is the only thing I changed that bites. Oh well. Can't have it all I guess.
But you can try to make efforts to have some. And that is what I am attempting. Wish me luck!
1) I hate people
I know, it seems a bit much. But honestly, after working at a restaurant in a MALL, you see quite a plethora of people. All different walks of life come in. And it ain't pretty. So maybe I don't hate all people, but a great many that I have come across. I have probably come across more wackos treating me like shit than the average joe who has all limbs or isn't horribly disfigured. That is impressive. And it has caused me to hate people, whether I want to or not.
2) I am not a friendly person
I used to be. Seriously. Ask anyone from like...3 years ago or so. I can even fake friendly still! But I am coming to terms with the fact that I am not, by nature, friendly anymore. Friendly has become something I put on to get a tip. An act. And so genuine friendliness is long dead. I want to be friendly. But when I try, I just sound high pitched and insincere. Ever seen pictures where a person is smiling but their eyes are kinda dead? That is me most of the time when I try to be friendly these days.
3) I am lazy.
This is the worst. I don't think I always was...I double majored in college! That's something, right? Something a highly motivated person would do, right? Anyway I am too tired and listless to write anymore about that one...
4) I love change, yet fear it with such a fierceness.
It's like my abusive husband or something. I love it, I believe that it is good for me, yet it wears me down so that I have no self esteem left! I get anxious when it is close, crave it when it is away.
5) I kinda suck at office jobs so far.
At least it feels like it. Maybe it is the role of the temp to feel this way. But I want to relax and have a good time and meet everyone and laugh and be crude and stuff here and there, WHILE still getting shit done, and done well. Why can't an office have it both ways? Maybe I am just starting out in the wrong office. We shall see. But I do feel very stifled in this environment. Sorta like I am in Church or something.
6) Being poor is scary but sometimes necessary.
To get where you need to go, you gotta suck it up sometimes and be poor. Entry level office jobs help that, because you go home and make dinner and then are so tired you don't go out and spend money. So being a loser after 9pm saves you money and allows you to work at an office without feeling too poor! It's a lovely cycle, really.
7) I can still change!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This is my favorite one. I was miserable waiting tables. I don't like hating people...It takes way more effort to hate than to not hate. So I am quitting (sort of...cutting back...hey I move slowly, ok?!) in order to love people again. I want to feel bad for the old lady crossing the street alone, not think "that old bitch would probably ask for hot water and tip me 10 percent!"
I want to be friendly again! I want to genuinely smile at a stranger or go out of my way to talk to new people without being exhausted from talking to people I don't want to talk to all day while waiting tables! So I stopped waiting tables as much so I could try to get that back.
I want to be active, not lazy! I want to have energy and a more routine schedule so I can be more disciplined with my craft and therefore more productive! So I am trying to do just that.
I want to be good at office work! So when I find the job I actually want to do, I can be ready for it with all my office knowledge and experience!
I want to be poor!
Wait a minute. Ok that is the only thing I changed that bites. Oh well. Can't have it all I guess.
But you can try to make efforts to have some. And that is what I am attempting. Wish me luck!
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