Superfluous Baloney

Anger

2009-09-08T15:47:00.005-05:00

It starts to bubble to the surface, not that it had all that far to go in the first place. Before I realize it's begun to spill over the top. It gushes out usually at those closest. I can't force it back in. The pot overflows and out it all spills. Will they allow me to help clean it up? Will the forgive me for the fragments strewn about?

Regret. Embarrassment. Sweep it under the rug?

It's just that the pot was so full before it was placed on the flame. There was no room for anymore. Why was it already so full? I'd rather not say. It makes no sense to allow this to spew about, but not disclose what started the mess in the first place. No, I suppose it doesn't.

But I can't bring myself to say. I'm afraid you'll trivialize it. Tell me it will be alright when you have no idea if it will or not. No sense worrying about it dear, won't change anything. Yes, well please enlighten me with exactly how you go about stopping the worrying that bounces around your head? Why are you so stubborn? So determined to always go it alone?

Now two pots begin to boil...

Split

2009-09-03T15:52:00.002-05:00

One side lies basking in the sun, sighing in comfort of the light. The other huddles in darkness surrounded by a dank, heavy fear. When facing the light everything feels just right. I'm here with you, your strong arms encircling me, making me feel as though nothing could go wrong. Feeling safe there I look up at you and smile. Not my normal smirk, but a vulnerably sweet smile that only you can bring out. I want to stay there forever.

But the darkness is tricky. It calls to me and like the wreckage of a car crash along the highway, I must look. I turn and the weight of the darkness surrounds me. It lies heavy on my shoulders, weighing me down. Your arms are long forgotten as the fear invades me. I'm not strong enough to fight it off so I give in. I shudder as the coldness seeps in. I see you out of the corner of my eye, but you look different now. The darkness makes you seem sinister. The look in your blue eyes that I used to see as a mischievous twinkle now seems to hint at something more malevolent.

You call out for me and I turn again to face you and the light. The warmth engulfs me and I feel your crooked smile make everything brighter. I'm reassured. I know that I'm vulnerable, but I don't mind. Nothing else seems to matter as your smile grows bigger and warms my skin. I wish I could stay here forever in the comfort. I feel exposed, but safe. Shy, but content.

But the darkness begins to call again and I slowly start to turn. As my face turns from the light to dark the anxiety and fear return. I put my arms protectively in front of my face, but it still seeps in and consumes me. The weight returns, the air is thick, heavy and dank. I fear it. I fear you. Paranoid thoughts invade my head. You'll use my insecurities against me. You search for my flaws and throw them in my face. With each panicked thought the dark whispers back, "Yeeeessss" in confirmation. You'll strip my defenses, break down my walls and leave me exposed. Then you'll walk away, leaving me stripped and empty. "Yeeeeesssss" the air echos back. I shrink into myself trying to block it out but there is no escaping the dark.

Is it real or am I only letting my insecurities get the best of me? It's hard to differentiate trapped in its midst. I shudder from the cold or maybe it's from the realization that I'll never be sure. I'll never be 100% confident when half of me stays consumed by the dark. If only I could stay with you in the light forever. If only I could keep myself facing you, focusing on you. But how when the dark continues to call?

Anxiety

2009-08-19T12:05:00.009-05:00

It snuck up on me quickly and completely out of the blue. Like a ninja in the night, it had stalked me making it sure it stayed on only the fringes of my mind for the last several months. Although I sensed it, I refused to acknowledge it this time. I allowed practicality to take over and push intuition out. "There's nothing there," I would tell myself when the anxiety began to creep in. I continued to ignore it for quite awhile, determined that this time would be different. I told myself that if I projected confidence and boasted of confidence to others, I could convince myself I truly was confident for once. It worked on most, but not all. Some could sense the fear. They know of my past and have seen the damage that lies in it's wake after it attacks. For months now I have continued as if I hadn't a care in the world, as if my plans for the future were finally solidified and would not be altered by anything and as though I could not feel it following me like a hunter with its prey. I had made the choice and I would stand by it. But the dark shadow continued to pursue me, waiting quietly for the right moment to pounce.

I was used to it's methods and the way it would strike unexpectedly, thus I prepared accordingly. But this time...this time it took a different approach. It caught me off guard and left me defenseless. It took it's time and quietly slinked over. It slowly seeped in bit by bit like a fog engulfing the Moors. It approached so stealthy, so delicately cautious, I never saw it move. I never felt it creep in until it was too late.

I have accepted it's presence now, like the end of a book in which you had anticipated a tragic ending but still continued to hope you were wrong until the last page. I've embraced it like an old friend that I hadn't seen in awhile. I have allowed myself to experience the guilty relief it brings me, like an OCD patient after giving in to their rituals. Guilty because I know someone will be caught up in the wake but relief that comes from giving in and allowing it to take over. It wraps around me like a cozy blanket, fitting like a favorite pair of old jeans. The comfort it brings is short lived once I look behind me at the wreckage. The bits and pieces of hearts that had be trampled, smashed, squeezed, and ripped apart. My heart breaks too as each one reminds me of their hurt.

But it's too late now, there is no going back. When you accept it, you accept the fate it brings and the harsh consequences that follow. The moment I gave into it I made my choice. Tough conversations will have to be had, tears will be shed, and I'll become just another hated ex-something. I hang about for a few days, mulling over the damage my decision caused. The bits and pieces of wreckage blow away in the wind behind me as I walk away, yet again.

* picture from here

Just like my brain...

2009-05-12T15:59:00.003-05:00

Music

2009-03-24T18:16:00.003-05:00

Once the symphony of thoughts begin they don't want to stop. What is it today? A waltz? No, too fast to be a waltz. A tango? No, not angry enough. A foxtrot? No, not happy enough. What ever it is it plays on and on in a circle of notes and noise. Surely the conductor will need sleep soon and the music will end. But the notes continue demanding attention, demanding an ear, demanding an answer. One continual rhythm that becomes a constant maddening noise. Sometimes it plays too soft, sometimes too loud, too fast, too slow, but rarely is it just right. Rarely do the notes collaborate to form a bit of harmony. Never the right volume, the right beat, the right notes. Always out of sync. Someday it will all come together and blend into a united harmony of sounds. The opening notes of a beautiful composition. The symphony will complete the song. The dance will end. The conductor will rest.

Gray

2009-03-11T12:01:00.003-05:00

When I head home the whole world just turns a little grayer. The sky is not quite so vibrant a blue, the grass is no longer that alluring shade of green. Everything seems out of focus...fuzzy. My world feels off kilter. I wonder through my days without thought, allowing them to run together until one bleeds into the next. One indistinguishable blur, smeared together like finger paints on a gray canvas.

My little world that used to solely revolve around so little is broadened as I begin to orbit around a new center. The rest fades into the blur as it holds less and less importance against the growing warmth of the new sun. Everything is the same, yet feels devoid when the center is gone. There is an element missing that causes things to appear less vibrant, less interesting than before. Each time I go and my new center is taken away, the rest of my world seems irrelevant. As the days pass without the center I grow accustom to the gray. As the distance increases the dullness is a little easier to bear, but the vacancy never is filled.

I know the gray will eventually be banished, and Eden will return with the reappearance of my center. With it will come the vividness and warmth of colors, my days will once again be distinct with meaning. In the meantime I learn to trudge through the unfocused gray.

Inept

2009-02-02T14:37:00.004-06:00

About a month ago my car started to sound...well, funny. It was idling kind of rough and struggling a bit to start. The problem only continued to worsen until I was finally forced to address it for fear of being left stranded some where dodgy. Being that I have only lived in this area for about two years or so and that I have never had car issues to speak of previously, I had no utter idea where to take the damn thing. So I inevitably did the safe thing and took it to the dealership. I should have said the safe and COSTLY thing. The rat bastards charged me $100 to perform a diagnostic test to identify the issue to start out with. When they had the results they phoned me to let me know how much the repairs would cost. The customer service whatever guy calls and tells me I need a new distributor cap, rotor, spark plugs and wires. He calls this a "tune up" and says it is going to cost me $380. I told him I wanted to think about it and I would give him a call back in 20 minutes. What I really wanted to do is to find someone that would tell me this guy had lost his marbles. I have a coworker who knows quite a bit about cars and her father is also a mechanic. I asked her what she thought. She shared my sentiments, the dealership apparently hands out crack for their employees to smoke religiously because that amount of money is ludicrous. She said that actually it is a very simple task to do and that really even I could do it. That's right ME. I could lift up the hood and look in there and change the broken business out and everything would be fine. I consider this for a moment and decide that of course I can do it. I can do anything because I am a competent, independent female of the 21st century and we can do anything. If I can vote, own property and have my own checking account, then I can change a distributor something or rather and some plug thingies dammit. Thus I bravely headed into an auto parts store this weekend and purchased everything on my list of necessary parts and tools. I have to admit I was very intimidated by just having to enter the store. However, I felt marginally better when I saw a female working the counter. I headed up to her and produced my list quite confidently. She pulled everything up on the computer and asked me something about platinum and some other metal and of course I said platinum. Platinum is pretty and I love it so much more than gold or silver and it's expensive. If it is the best for jewelery then it should be for spark plugs as well. She then went to the back and gathered everything up, laid it all out on the counter and rang me up. The total was $107. Now that's what I'm talkin' about! $380 my ass. I took my bag of goodies and headed home. Of course upon getting there I had to take a break to wait for the car to cool (it was definitely not because I am a huge procrastinator, especially about things that intimidate the shit out of me). I give it a good thirty minutes or three hours...something like that and head down determinedly to the vehicle with my pink and black screwdriver and socket set in hand. And of course my cell phone in case I need to talk to a male figure to provide moral and testosterone support. It takes me several minutes to get the hood up. I pulled the little lever thing, but then couldn't figure out exactly where the latch bit is to release it completely. Finally it is up and I am looking at the inside of the vehicle with complete fascination and utter confusion. Where the hell is the distributor cap? And more importantly what the hell does it look like? And where do the spark plugs even go? And what's this bit about wires? There are wires everywhere! How do I know which ones I am supposed to jack around with? The phone gets immediately placed to my ear and the boyfriend gets a call. (Oh yes, I suppose I should mention I have one of those now...a boyfriend that is. I'm a little behind on this blog stuff. And I am sure you are wondering why in the hell he isn't there helping me? Because, sadly, he lives 800 miles away. Only I would choose someone who happens to be a mechanical genius, but can't lend a hand due to being geographically challenged. Brilliant.) Ring, ring, ring, ring...wtf! Pick up already! Can't you see I'm having an automobile crisis here? I mean the instructions I downloaded off the internet tell you HOW to take off the distributor cap, but not where the hell it actually IS! He finally answers. He was apparently taking a nap during my traumatic event. Typical man...was sleeping instead of reading my mind. He finally answered and I began asking where everything was supposed to be and he begins firing questions back like, "Do you see the spark plugs?" to which I reply, "What the hell does a spark plug look like?"
"Do you see the wires?"
"I see billions of wires, did you have any particular sort in mind?"
"Have you pulled out the new distributor cap yet?"
"Oh. No."
I pull out the cap and the wires. He then asks,
"Are the wires finished or not?"
"Finished WHAT? Finished eating? Finished telling the box goodbye? What the hell does a finished wire mean?"
You can probably see how this was going...finally I become frustrated (I'm sure he was well beyond frustrated himself at this point) and tell him I am going to call a a male type person with a foreign vehicle to see what they can tell me. I dial almost every male in my address book and can get no one to answer. Hmmph. Bastards. Finally I begin pulling new parts out and then locating the old, dirty version in the engine. I find the distributor cap and follow an old wire to the end, yank a little and lo and behold there is a spark plug underneath. Then came the next challenge. How am I supposed to get to that little sucker to get it off and the new one on? Yes, I have my handy little socket set and even the deep socket set specifically designed for removing spark plugs, but still. That little thing is way down in there and things scratch my skin when I try to get to it. I call the boyfriend back and explain my newest dilemma. He asks if my socket set is metric or standard. I have no clue of course. And does it matter that much? I don't think the car cares. Then he tells me to look for an extension piece in my socket set. I find it and still cannot reach the damn spark plug. I decide to try a different wire and plug. Nope, that one is behind the engine and I can barely reach my hand down there let alone get a socket wrench to it. I get frustrated very quickly at that point and intelligently sum up the situation by proclaiming cars are stupid. I ended up amazingly irritated at my inability to handle this situation on my own. As someone who prides themselves on the fact that they have moved across the country all alone several times with no one to depend on, I was insanely frustrated by my ineptness. If some man can do it, why can't I? I don't take failure well as I rarely attempt anything I think I might fail at. (Yes, I realize the lameness of that philosophy, but that is a discussion for another time.) I have always prided myself on being able to handle my own shit and my inability to resolve this problem made me feel defeated in a way. I had to come to the conclusion that maybe I can't do it all on my own any more. It seemed much easier when I was younger and the extra effort it took to do everything the hardway didn't seem to require so much energy. I am coming to the realization in my 31 long years (heh) that I don't really, deep down inside, want to have to everything on my own anymore. I'm ready to have some people to lean on when life throws me a curve ball, or as in this situation, beaned by the pitcher. In fact, I find it quite annoying to have to decipher and navigate the world alone these days. I still get a bit anxious here and there about relying on others, but lately when it is a choice of stubbornly figuring it out on my own or sucking it up and asking for help, I am beginning to lean more often to the latter of the two.

Brain Floats

2008-12-12T16:22:00.003-06:00

This week my brain has felt as though it went on vacation to Nevernever Land. Left behind stranded, my body just muddles along disconnected. I feel completely out of sync with my surroundings. Even home doesn't feel quite right. The people I normally get along with quite well have become somewhat grinding. Like the pain from a tattoo, tolerable, but relentless and slightly annoying. I feel as though I no longer fit in this life. This life I created here in The South with the sole purpose of progressing my career. The career has moved forward as planned, but has also become somewhat of a burden I am no longer happy carrying. For three straight years I have focused on nothing but work. Strategizing my next move, picturing my next steps, sacrificing anything resembling a life. I think I have achieved what I set out to do. I don't believe I would be very happy ascending past my current role. At least not in this company. Partially due to the economy and partially due to a significant change in leadership, the atmosphere at work has become heavy with negativity and a sense of surrender hangs so thick it makes it difficult to breathe some days, let alone smile. I understand the world is full of reasons to be negative right now, but everyone here still has a job, so why has everyone given up? All that is to say work is not my happy place any longer and has been replaced as the center of my universe. Or at least I am actively seeking a replacement. However, my search has to be somewhat limited until I complete my degree. I only have 18 more months which I know does not seem like much except when you are an impatient pain in the ass like I am. I have decided I am ready to not only transition my focus, but also my residence. That's right...I'm ready to move again.

I know some may view my transient nature as a certifiable craziness, but it's just the way I am. When I am ready for a change, I'm usually ready for a big one. I need a serious change in scenery that will assist me in finding a new focus other than the drudgery also currently referred to as work. I think I can find it back in the Midwest. I have never felt as comfortable any where as I did when I lived in Kansas and Missouri. Nebraska is also very similar. Yes, I know they have some of the worst weather in the U.S. but the people, the culture, the atmosphere make all the difference.

Thoughts of making this type of a change seem to consume me now. When you have a rough time focusing on the present as it is (ADD anyone?) these types of distractions only intensify the mental check out. It's like I let my brain get lost and then it gets too far away and I struggle to get it back. That's even if I notice it has left. Most of the time I don't until I realize I have no idea what I just spent the last ten minutes doing or where I set down the keys that I just remembered having in my hand. It ends up making me look scatter brained and clumsy and slackerish. I overlook important details like where the hell I parked my car and if I put on deodorant or not. I just completely check out, especially in situations that are mundane, day to day activities. The auto pilot kicks on without me even being aware of it until several minutes later when I realize my brain has been on fast forward planning my next big life altering step. As though my brain has floated off up into the clouds of the future. When it does finally reground itself and I am back in reality I have been more than a tad irritable about the landing. As I said I am impatient, especially when my mind is made up. It makes me annoyed and frustrated with time. Which tends to manifest itself as just all around crabbiness. Discontentment is never a good feeling, but that is where I am at right now, thus my brain checks out as a coping mechanism. So if I seem like I'm in LaLa Land or as though I am testy, it's because I am. I am ready for the next phase of my life, but someone hit the slow-mo button when all I can stand is fast forward. In other words, bear with my moodiness over the next 18 months as a get myself all educated so I can bail on the abyss also know as The South.

Endless Waves

2008-11-19T09:21:00.004-06:00

I have a migraine. I sit here at my desk with my head pounding, my stomach churning and this mornings breakfast sitting at the back of my throat waiting to make a hasty exit the same way it went it. Yet I sit here at work allow the misery to worsen from the fluorescent lighting and constant noise. The slightest movement makes me dizzy and increases the nausea. My stomach is bloated like a starving child's in a third world country. Each word I speak feels as though it takes as much effort as a flight of stairs. Agitation over the pain and dizziness makes me cross thus my statements come out quite curt. Every once in awhile I close my eyes, put my head in my hands and sigh deeply. As soon as the familiar darkness encompasses me the dizziness kicks in and I feel my breakfast elevating a little more than I am comfortable with. Thankfully, should it decide to show itself again I am a very quiet barfer. Lovely thought, no? The problem with migraines like these is it doesn't even matter if you attempt to lie very, very still with no light and no sound you still don't feel better. The nausea still comes in waves and the dizziness still twirls your brain matter around like a never ending merry-go-round. Adding in the mere thought of horses going up and down and you are sure to find me in the fetal position on the cool bathroom tile willing myself not to lose whatever is left in my innards. The worst yet is the self pity that comes with such illnesses. You suffer silently in your own little world of never ending motion sicknesses. I feel as though the only thing that would make me feel better is a significant other letting me lie my feet across them on the couch while they pat my hand and tell me how much they would like for me to feel better and continuously ask me if they can get me anything. Yes, I throw quite the pity party when I am ill and it's a damn shame no one ever shows up to join in on the festivities. I am exiting now. I've decided I can't bare to be in the upright position much longer, thus I am going home. If you care to join me I will be on the couch in my flannel pjs, warm fuzzy blanket over the top, sandwiched in between two dogs with a cat plopped on top. Actually, now that I think of it, there probably isn't any room left for company anyway.

Time

2008-11-10T16:40:00.003-06:00

Today I was thinking about where I was at this time last year. What events had taken place, what things was I looking forward to, who I was involved with. I'm typically horrible about remembering such details. I can remember them when they surround other people, but never myself. However, I remember this point in time last year very well. I had just ended a difficult relationship 6 weeks prior and was feeling quite vulnerable and exposed. It was around this time that I jumped into "something" with someone else without thinking. There was a million different details that made thousands of red flags, alarm bells, etc. go off in my mind regarding this person and their circumstances. I knew better quite frankly, but I did it anyway because I posses an amazing ability to rationalize any damn thing to myself and to others. Sadly, they buy it and I buy it even more. So being the amazing persuader that I am, I jumped in head first into a very messy situation and was left heartbroken just three short months later.

A few weeks prior to the relationship completely dissolving there were some clear indicators that it was going south at a rapid pace. But I clung on convincing myself if I just didn't run this once it would pay off. However, as the days passed I became increasingly aware that it was going to end and it was going to end badly. When this realization hit me I fell into one of the deepest depressions I have yet to experience. I am not ignorant enough to believe it was the relationship that pushed me down into the dark, sadistic bowels of such a sickness. It was me that shoved myself in and would not allow a chance to come up for air. I had, yet again, placed myself in a predicament that was ridiculous and completely wrong for me. Not just once, but twice and in a row. The delicate balance of my Pysche was tipped drastically in an unfavorable direction as a result.

Being the stubborn little person that I am I did not reach out for help. I did not want to admit that I was weak and was not capable of climbing back out on my own. I didn't dare mention to anyone that I have the "illness." They would look at my differently, as if I was broken. As if I was crazy. Or worse, they wouldn't believe me. They might file me away with all the other whiney, unhappy people in the world and I would be discarded.

So I decided I had suffered through such spells before on my own and surely I could make it through another. Unfortunately, I underestimated the strength and determination of this particular episode and thus I was left writhing in it for a good six months or more. Work made up the extent of my social engagements and I only left the house on the weekends to go to the gym or hit the grocery store when my cupboards were so bare I literally only had a can of tomato sauce and a bag of two year old rice. I had no desire to see or converse or interact or even breathe near anyone else. I wasn't necessarily lonely, I just decided it was completely unacceptable for anyone to see me in such a state so I stayed home. For literally six months straight.

About four months in I finally got brave enough to go to the doctor and ask for my medication to be changed. Why did it take four months for me to make the effort? Because when you are depressed you don't necessarily want to get better. Depression wraps around you until it begins to feel like another layer of skin and unfortunately you don't realize it's actually choking you. In a sick, sadistic way, it is comforting. You know how to "do" depression, but getting well is unknown and frightening. What if you try and you just can't get better? What if you get better and then it happens again? (Which is inevitable by the way. It will happen again of course just hopefully for not as long.) When you are depressed logic doesn't work. You are trapped in your own universe where reason and reality don't exist. And if you are not reaching out to anyone to assist you in bringing reason back into your life you stay stuck. Thus, I went to the doctor in an effort to start the process of making the painful climb back out.

Within two weeks of being prescribed a new medicine that seemed to be somewhat working (it takes 30 days for an anti-depressant to absorb into your system completely) I suffered a seizure and they promptly took me off the meds. Thus, the depression continued and, like many others who suffer with such an illness, my thoughts during that time reached almost an embarrassingly deep level with much finality.

The lack of meds in my system only worsened the situation so I stayed submerged for another good two months until I finally made a decision. I literally woke up one day and decided I didn't want to feel this shit anymore. I wanted to be a normal, personable individual again. So I made an appointment with a new doctor. Thank God she happened to be someone who really knows her stuff. Unbeknowst to me at the time, she had actually written a few books on the subject. She was very up to date on current meds and how well they worked depending on the person and their symptoms. (For example, I suffer from anxiety as well as depression so I either need a med that treats both or a combo of two drugs.)

I then made a very risky decision. I asked her to put me on the med that (allegedly) caused the seizure. Of course, I didn't tell her about the little episode that had occurred a few months prior or she would have never taken the chance. Yes, there are other meds that are out there I could have tried. But the problem is with these types of meds is that they effect everyone differently. Some can make you lethargic and sleepy. (Ever seen anyone with that glazed zombie thing goin' on? Yeah, that could be from anti-depressants.) Others can have no impact and still some might make you into a complete anxiety ridden freak. So I was sneaky and did not disclose my prior experience. She prescribed the med along with another for the anxiety and one month later I started to feel normal again. Suddenly I didn't mind being around other living beings that were of my own species (the pooches were my bffs through that fun little episode). I actually WANTED to get out of the house on the weekends and be in public! I even took showers on Saturdays and Sundays! This was seriously notable improvement people. Although I will always be a homebody to some extent, I now don't mind actually making plans to socialize every once in awhile. (The puppies are not fans of that.)

I guess all of this is to say (with an excellent cliche mind you) "What a difference a year makes." I feel much more at ease these days and back to my normal blase` self. It just feels good to be sane again. I think after each one of these types of episodes you come out a little stronger than you were before, a little more resilient. It has taken me almost a full year to admit to anyone what I was experiencing during that time as I have never owned up to my illness before. I feel somewhat lightened from eliviating the load, but still slighlty timid and vulnerable over the thought of sharing this part of my life that I will always battle. It is difficult to say to someone, "I need medication to be normal" especially when you are a single gal traipsing through life as a solo unit. Not everyone is capable of understanding that it doesn't make someone a freak.

The other day I had someone accuse me of being "bi-polar." They were saying it to be mean and spiteful and they reached their goal. The negativity affiliated with such labels will always run rampant. I know several people who are in fact bi-polar. You would never know it if they did not tell you. Many of them put on a brave face for the world and hide their illness as I do because of comments like the one made to me. I'm sure that some ignorant will people will perpetuate the stigmatization of word, but I do believe as more people discover friends and family that suffer from various mental illnesses that negative connotation will eventually lessen at the very least.

Off Kilter

2008-11-04T11:37:00.005-06:00

I don't know what it is today, but I just kind of feel out of sync...irregular. (Yes, that made me giggle and yes, I have the mental capacity of a 5 year old boy for laughing.) I didn't get a ton of sleep, but it wasn't too crazy short or anything so I don't think that is it. I also assure you it has nothing to do with today's election. I was a good kid and voted two weeks ago. Alright, I'm not that good. It just so happened my gym was set up as an early voting pole place thingies, so it was insanely convenient. I walked out the door of the locker room (dripping with sweat mind you) and walk right up to the little old people that volunteer for that sort of thing. As they were still pondering my inability to utilize public showers, I sauntered over and clicked the little screen until each of my cotes was cast. I even made sure I got a sticker. This is a serious improvement for me. Typically I can't ever locate the polling place and inevitably give up convincing myself my little ole vote doesn't count for anything anyway. I tend to have very moderate political beliefs and standards so I don't get really riled up over elections.

I think it may be the time change that is actually making me all out of whack. I have never understood the true value behind "falling back" each autumn and "springing ahead" each spring. Some people try to give it a positive spin by focusing on the fact that you gain a whole hour of sleep!!! Yes, but I also end up leaving work after the moon has risen and the stars are out. This makes me feel like I wasted my whole day away at work, rather than just the bulk of it. So now instead of it being dark when you wake up in the morning, it is now dark when you get home. How is that beneficial?

I guess the idea originated from Ben Franklin (you can always count on Ben for some wacky ideas...like that whole kite and lightening debacle), but didn't actually see any federal backing until 1918. But people hated it back then because they liked to get up earlier and go to bed earlier than we do now. Weirdos. So then they decided each local jurisdiction could decide if they wanted to practice it or not. As a result we now can change your clock three times as you drive through Arizona, (there is a Native American Indian Reservation in the middle of the state that said they will not utilize daylight savings time), the entire state of Indiana that said fooey, we aren't doing it, and various other areas they have decided to go against the flow. Thus, I never know what time it actually is anywhere because apparently time is not an established law of nature, but rather another area humans can choose to manipulate as they see fit. How spastic have we become that now we even feel the need to control time? Why can't we just agree to leave it alone and the sun can rise and set as it sees fit. As far as I'm concerned, as long as I know what time I get to leave work each day and what time the football game starts, I'm good.

So why do we have to jack with it? And don't give me that hooey that we are trying to limit our use of resources such as electricity. If that's the case, then let's just stay "sprung ahead." What's the big deal? The next candidate for president that adds the controversy known as "Daylight Savings Time" to there platform gets my vote! (As long as that candidate has no affiliations with Alaskan Hockey Moms.)

*For more historical info on the origination of Daylight Savings Time feel free to check out this pretty little website.

Stolen

2008-10-29T16:57:00.019-05:00

I stole this from Martha because my brain is moosh since I ate mostly sugar for lunch and now look like that girl from the energy shot commercial when they are trying to demonstrate what you look and feel like after coming down off an energy drink high. You know...hair all tussled and ratty, shirt half untucked, crooked kind of frowny face and all slumped over. I know that is EXACTLY how I must look right this very minute because I chose damn banana pudding for lunch over an energy shot! Damn that tasty banana pudding with vanilla wafers. You will forever be the bane of my existence and the cause of totally boring, lackluster blog posts.

Photo MeMe

The age I will be on my next birthday:

A place I want to travel: My favorite place: My Favorite Food (Hello Duh): *My Favorite Pet: *That I do not currently own.

My Favorite Color Combination: My Favorite Piece of Clothing: My Favorite Show: The Name of My Significant Other (does my dog count?): The Town in Which I Live: My First Job (Don't judge me! :): My Dream Job: A Bad Habit I Have: My Worst Fear: What I would Like to Do Before I Die:

Supposed To

2008-10-20T15:31:00.003-05:00

I am supposed to be heading up to the third floor right now to talk with a "colleague" about something she stated was "personal." I use the quotes because I struggle with considering this person a colleague. She is older than me and is a Director. Older, wiser, higher and better paid. I am intimidated. Why would this person want to talk to me about something personal? One could argue that it's my job. Because it is. But when I think about it in my brain I wonder, "What could I possibly to do to help this professional? I'm just a big, immature dork in a grown up body." It makes me feel inept, intimidated and just all around awkward.

I have quite a few people in my life both professionally and personally who come to me for advice. Most often I don't mind it. I enjoy being someone who can support others. It makes me feel important I guess and everyone has an ego to feed despite our efforts to prove otherwise. I believe I have a decent ability to be reasonable and apply logic to issues surrounding others. I think I have a knack for providing incite into the human psyche. And again, I like that people lean on me.

But sometimes, like today, it makes me nervous. Despite my initial reaction of, "Omg, what have I done wrong that they would want to talk with me about?" (Paranoid much? Yes. Completely.) My second response is to think, "But why would you want to tell me about that? Don't you want to tell someone who has it together more? Someone who makes sense and doesn't have such a messy life? Someone who has it 'together'?" I don't know who that would be, but surely there is a better option than me?

Recently even a few recent additions to my life has begun to lean on me for advice and maybe just an occasional rant session. I can't help but to take a step back and wonder at their ability to show a little vulnerability and dependency with someone that really don't know all that well. I struggle with relying on people I have known half my life. Maybe I envy them that. It just seems like individuals that I would consider leaning on back tend to somewhat be unreliable themselves. They seem fickle with their emotions. One minute calling me incessantly and the next telling me I am worthless. (I know, I don't have suck great taste.) The ones that I would really like to reach out to and form a bond, maybe rely on a bit, make it impossible to do so. They seem to only call with the purpose of venting their own frustrations and even, on occasion taking those frustrations out on me. Some seem to forget I am human too. Maybe I would like a chance to talk about something I could use a different perspective on. Or maybe I would just like to vent for awhile about something that has been bothering me. But there doesn't seem much time for that. There seems to only be time for them. And on occasion, when it seems to dawn on them that I may actually have a life beyond the scope of their telephone calls and life issues, they will make a half-hearted attempt at inquiring about me. But it seems to feel just like that, half hearted and somewhat insincere. I also can't help but feel like they seem to have enough of their own issues going on so why burden them with mine as well? What could they possible do or say that would help? And what if I did reveal something about me, some weakness or vulnerability and it made me weak in their eyes?

I know this is all paranoia trapped in my own brain, but despite how illogical it may all sound, it is what I feel. I know it probably sounds like silly insecure fear, but when those you have exposed yourself to have proven to be unworthy or unreliable or have even used it later to throw in your face, you can tend to get a little uneasy with it.

Speaking of vulnerabilities, I am also struggling with some of these people discovering some of my weaknesses, my personality flaws, and using them against me. I guess they think because I don't mind listening to them and providing advice that I should also be perfect and never make a mistake. I do make mistakes and I do say and do the wrong things at inappropriate times. I have no problem with people pointing this out to me, but what can you do when they don't just point them out, but also rub your nose good and hard in it. And then, when you attempt to apologize for your faux pas and the resulting hurt feelings, they won't allow you. I know what most people who say, "Drop that person on their ear and walk away." But it feels horrible to have hurt someone's feelings (especially when it was unintentional) and then when they don't let you apologize or tell you you aren't really sorry? Nothing like kicking a girl when she's down.

I am not perfect, not even close. Not by any stretch of the imagination, but I do think I try hard not to hurt people's feelings. To be accused of the opposite is hurtful and disheartening. It makes me want to crawl in a corner and lick my wounds until it all goes away. That's exactly what I did all weekend and plan on continuing to do so for the rest of the week. I've managed to put on a brave face at work and no one around me is none the wiser, but on the inside it's still there. A hard knot in the back of my throat and a faint nagging in the back of my mind. I have tried very hard to stay busy so I don't have time to hear it or feel it. But everyone has to slow down now and again and it comes back with a vengeance.

I just wish, every once in awhile, I would get a break and a chance at not being perfect. A chance to apologize for my flaws and an opportunity to do better. Apparently the forgiveness I have extended on so many occasions is not reciprocal. Apparently I am not allowed to be weak and flawed on ocassion. My job is to be strong , sympathetic and wise. While everyone else can be vulnerable and dependable. No wonder I have learned to be self sufficient at consoling myself and healing my own wounds. Who the hell would want to do it for me?

This has probably made no sense and reads like one long ramble, but this is what has been eating up my brain all weekend and maybe now with it out I can just let it die.

Haunted

2008-10-09T22:51:00.002-05:00

I have always been terrified of haunted houses. Particularly those that are erected around Halloween in old abandoned buildings in dirty downtown cities. But really, it doesn't even take that much. It could be as a little a small domesticated version in a suburban neighborhood and it will still scare the crap out of me. When I was younger I was coerced by the guiles of adolescent peer pressure to venture into my first one. I recall being about five feet from the initial entrance and feeling the anxiety build to the point where I almost felt it was strangling me as my breathing became more labored. I started to panic as my high school boyfriend, a group of friends and I grew ever closer to the ominous ticket taker at the front of the line (appropriately dressed as the grim reaper). They all teased and joked about my cowardly lion routine as I gripped tighter to my boyfriends hand and begged someone to stay close behind me. The initial entrance was illuminated with an eerie green glow and the shadows were glimpsed and things lurking could be sensed. After the first thing jumped out and scared me almost to the point of tears I decided I had to come up with a plan to live through this quickly. My pathetic coping mechanism ended up being walking through the entire thing with my eyes jammed tightly shut and shuffling my feet along slowly (thus if I would hopefully have some warning when the front of shoes began to run into something, ideally something that was not alive).

I realize in hindsight this may not have been the most brilliant approach. It was rather like the cat thinking you can't see it because it's head is under the covers while it's furry derriere hangs out in plain sight. But some how I found more comfort in total blindness rather than facing the frightening unknown. For some reason I preferred to pretend as if the whole thing didn't exist rather than at least attempting to predict what lie around the next corner. I could have made some fairly educated guesses had I opened at least one eye based on glimpses of movement here and there, not to mention the reactions of those in front of me in line. But instead I closed my eyes for dear life and shuffled along like a scaredy cat.

Recently I have noted I seem to be taking a similar approach to my personal life. For at least a good three years now I have shuffled through with my eyes tightly shut, not even brave enough to stick my arms out to assist by groping along the way. I can't even sugar coated it by saying I was just being safe and conscientious. I have been a blatant chicken shit.

With my professional life I have not only gone along with my eyes open, I have actually just jumped in: arms in front to clear the way, legs ready to kick any obstacles in my path and walking with an obvious determination. Each challenge had been met and not just won, but conquered. I have had no fear to really speak of and very little anxiety (except for that first class in the graduate program where everyone panics a bit and thinks, "what the hell have I gotten myself into!?" But immediately after receiving that first A I fell right in stride.) It simple does not frighten me. I have a plan, I have stuck to it and have been successful.

Why is this not the case in my personal life? Why can I not even force myself to open an eye or stick out an arm? Because I have no control in the realm of socializing and relationships. I am not brave enough to face the unknown head on. I do not possess enough courage to trade in the shuffle for determined steps with a specific destination in mind. Hell, I can't even bring myself to think about coming up with a destination, let alone a plan on how to get there. The moment I attempt to give it a whirl I feel as though I am back waiting in the line at the haunted house. The anxiety encircles my throat and begins to squeeze at the thought of even beginning to hope to make something of my the time not spent at work or working on work. If I do that I have to have hope and I have to factor in all of the overwhelming unknowns and I have to relinquish control. I have to open myself (and my eyes) to the notion of being exposed in front of someone. What if they turn out to be a luminous green monster that scares the bejesus out of me and makes me cry? All of that is too much to think of right now, too overwhelming and frightening. So I continue forward with my eyes tightly shut and my feet shuffling along.

The Bane of My (current) Existence

2008-10-07T17:54:00.002-05:00

Sorry, gotta get this out: I cannot fucking WAIT to get out of the South. This place is full of nothing but superficial, fake, insensitive, ignorant assholes. I could never even dream of living any where near here for the rest of my sad little years. In exactly 19 months I will complete my graduate program and finally have the chance to escape back to the Midwest where people are kind, unpretentious, easy going and straight forward. I can't wait to get back to good friends who can appreciate sarcasm and a cheap alcohol. Those that actually make a point of being available when you need to do some whining and offer you more cheap alcohol as a consolation.

Young

2008-10-03T19:37:00.002-05:00

Whenever you hit below the belt, remember I can hit lower.

Learn to bob and weave.

Your temper is a weakness people like me will use against you.

The strong only get stronger and the weak only get weaker.

Your arrogance has an intrusive odor that will repel people.

You would benefit more from the alluring aroma of humility.

You believe your hubris conveys confidence.

The message is distorted as it passes through the filter of perception.

You want to be the loudest voice in the crowd.

Close your mouth and open your ears to the beauty of silence.

You expect to be handed the reins before you have learned to ride.

Crawl and beseech before you walk and demand.

You see no worth in patience.

Good things come to those that wait.

You believe your pedigree makes you entitled.

When you rise up the ceiling above only gets higher.

You wear your inflated ego like a badge of honor.

Modesty lingers and leaves a resonating mark, but arrogance is quickly dismissed.

Your actions do not match your words.

Accomplishments should rise above prose like the loudest voice in the choir.

You are easily frustrated by the game of bureaucracy.

If the deck is stacked, bring your own cards.

You think you are owed.

Trust and respect are not awarded at graduation..

Your nerves are thin and weak.

The last ones standing had the thickest skin.

You believe you are the center.

There can be no center without the encompassing edges.

You believe youth trumps all.

With age comes the benefit of having both the before and the after.

You are as young as your faith, as old as your doubt; as young as your self-confidence, as old as your fear; as young as your hope, as old as your despair. ~Douglas MacArthur .

Bored and Lazy

2008-09-24T14:32:00.004-05:00

If your ex REALLY needed you at 3 am, would you go to his/her house?
I don't even know where he is, but no. I wouldn't. Mean? Maybe, but true.

When was the last time you wanted to punch someone in their face?
Better question would be when was the last time I didn't want to?

What are the last three things you spent money on?
Poster frames, dryer sheets, hairspray.

What was the last thing you cried about?
Stupid stuff that is too stupid to divulge here or any where for that matter.

Could you go a day without eating?
Yes. I would be a cranky wanker, but I could do it.

Have you ever kissed anyone whose name started with a J?
Yeah, quite a few actually. It's a popular letter.

Do you smoke weed regularly?
Never

Drugs are bad?
Illegal ones? for the most part, yes. Unless you really need to lose weight fast or need to stay awake for three days straight or don't really like your teeth anyway.

Has anyone ever told you they're in love with you?
Yes.

When was the last time you were disappointed?
Yesterday. Disappointed in how a meeting was handled at work.

Has a girl ever seriously punched you?
Yes. I punch back fortunately.

What was the last thing you put in your mouth?
Agua

Have you kissed two different people in one night?
Yes.

Is it easy for others to make you feel awkward?
Yes. Give me a compliment or ask me to talk about my feelings and you have me awkward.

In the past week have you felt stupid?
Yes. Probably even more than once.

Have you ever been outside completely naked?
Yes. More than once.

What would happen if you had a baby with the last person you kissed?
The earth would stop spinning and Bush would be impeached.

Who did you text the most yesterday?
John

What were you doing at 10pm Friday night?
Video games and the consumption of copious amounts of wine. Oh yeah, and I smoked a cigar.

What are your plans for today?
Work and gym. That's it. And maybe a smidge of homework.

Could you go the rest of your life without smoking a cigarette?
Yes, easily.

What was the last reason you went to the doctor for?
Girl stuff, annual check up.

What is the last thing you yelled aloud?
WTF is wrong with people?

What do you think of when you think of Australia?
Green and sheep.

Do you have any gay/lesbian friends?
Yes.

Have you ever kissed the last person you texted?
Yes.

What's one action you do when you're really nervous?
Bite my nails, but I also do it when I'm bored.

Would you rather give up the computer or the TV?
TV probably

Do you find yourself saying mean things to people over the internet that you wouldn't say to their face?
HA - no. Whatever I type would also be said to their face.

One word that explains perfectly how you feel at the moment?
Disengaged

What did the last text message you received say?
"If I said u had a beautiful body body would u hold it against me" We were playing the song lyric game.

What is this obsession with text messaging?
For me, I hate talking on the phone. I do it all day at work so if I can send a message and get what I need in a matter of a few minutes I would rather do that then have a 10 minute (or more) conversation on the phone.

Do you care if people hate you for no reason?
I might dwell on it for a bit, but ultimately I would get over it. Fortunately, I lose interest in things quickly.

How hard is your life right now?
HA. It's not shit right now. I don't have money problems, I don't have a hard time with school, I like my job and I could care less about a love life. Piece of cake.

Have you ever taken anyone for granted?
Of course. I think everyone has at some point whether it was intentional or not.

Exactly

2008-09-15T08:55:00.002-05:00

"You have to walk carefully in the beginning of love; the running across fields into your lover's arms can only come later when you're sure they won't laugh if you trip". Jonathan Carroll, Outside the Dog Museum

It Doesn't Matter

2008-09-12T01:50:00.003-05:00

I can't figure out what I want. I can't figure out what to do. I don't know what to say. And for the first time in a very long time I don't know where I am going. I like my job. There is no denying that. And I can say I have busted my ass and spent hours strategizing to get where I am today. At the end of the day I am satisfied and content. Am I happy? I don't know that I would go that far. But I am in my comfort zone. Do I think there is more that I want out of life besides just a career and a bunch of degrees? I think there is, but there is something that prevents me from striving and working toward that goal as agressively as I have career and school aspirations. I have been accused on more than one occasion of thinking too much. However, I could list off numerous times I have chosen to throw caution to the wind and screw thinking things through over the last 10 years. I chose to just go with what I felt and gave in to the ellicit temptations. And I was not happy at the end of it. Each and every time it burned me and kicked me hard, catapulting me to this paranioa I live in now. And although the experiences made me stronger and taught me lessens, it also made me significantly less brazen and bold. That lame, old school saying definitely applies, "you play with fire you are going to get burned," and eventually you learn to stop fucking around with fire. I guess that is the real downside to getting older. I don't give a fuck about my body wearing out or my mind losing it's sharpness. I worry that I have lost my ability to say, "Fuck it" and do what I want anyway, despite what others might say or think. But as you get older you end up with much more at stake and you just can't convince yourself to jump in head first without thinking any more. Which has led me to ultimately being more comfortable alone than allowing someone into my world. I just can't buy into the concept anymore that there are still mounds of good people in this world. I sold myself on that bullshit last year. I forced myself to work through my issue surrounding committment and I ultimately did a great job of putting it behind me and learning to trust again. But then I once again led myself to a complete douche bag who took advantage of it. And what happened? Of course, just like so many others before him, he calls me up at a later date and wants to give it another go. WTF? Seriously? I just spent the last six months learning how to forget you and the bullshit you brought into my life and the damage you did to my self esteem and now, because you are so fucking fantastic, I am supposed to forget about all that and welcome you back into my life? Fuck you and the horse you rode in on. But that is the theme of my relationships. It gets ugly, we break up and then any where from 6 months to 7 years down the road (yes one dumb ass tracked me down like a cyber stalker after that long) you contact me to explain what a piece of shit you were "x" number of months/years ago and that you want to give it a go again. Sure! Because of course I have placed my entire life on hold since the day things ended between us in hopes that you would contact me again some day. This is not something that has happened to me once or twice or even three times, it has literally happened 7-8 times in the last ten years. After all this shit and after the last nightmare, a.k.a. relationship, I decided I couldn't do it any more. So for seven months I stayed home. I considered it a good weekend if I went through the whole thing without leaving my apartment or interacting with anyone, even on the phone. I hibernated more than the Unibomber while writing his manifesto. The only thing that forced me back into the world of socializing was the frightening realization that some day, when I was old and wrinkled, I would look back at these years and kick myself for not trying harder to meet someone. I have a very good friend who recently called off his wedding. It was one month before the "go live" date. He told me he simply was not ready and didn't know if he would ever be. I responded with some very real sentiments I have toward marriage. You only get one chance in your life to love and marry someone without inhibition and with blind, naive trust. That is right before your first marriage. If that one doesn't last, particularly through no fault of your own (either she was nuttier than squirrel terds or maybe he was a cheating bastard) you get screwed and are left with a jaded, disillusioned perspective of love. I wasted my chance early in life. I know several others who did as well, but thankfully were still able to convince themselves to marry the wonderful people they are still with today. Unfortunately though, not all of us are that fortunate. Some of us end up so damaged by the experience we just can't bring ourselves to do it again. Ultimately we end up wasting the primetime years of our life hiding behind the fear and anxiety. And that's where I remain. Stuck and sinking a little more each day.

Guy Advice

2008-09-02T12:04:00.007-05:00

Since moving to the South I have noticed men in this area seem a bit repressed. Particularly in the area of making a move. Whether it's just simply holding a hand, moving in for a kiss, etc. they seem to move at the pace of an Amish man circa 1890.

Not that I want to be groped and man handle on the second date or anything, but one would think they might be able to at least manage brushing up against a gal. I mean, how are you to know it is going to be more than friends if you don't ever get to shove your tongue down his throat to verify whether or not sparks exist? And who really has the time to invest 4 or 5 meetings in order to do so? Seriously, who has that kind of time?

When embarking upon the crazy ritual this world refers to as "dating" it seems to make good logical sense to request the advice of a member of the opposite sex. Out of total frustration, I recently requested such advice from a male counterpart. Below is the advice I received. Although not very helpful, I did find it utterly hysterical. It just reaffirms my belief that guys make better friends that lovers. HA.

Hmmm – Ouch, I don’t think most normal healthy “men” past age 25 need anything to get them going…. I always put on the hard core press, all you can say in no. It’s our job to put the moves on and your job to say you’re not ready… (if your not) – One can’t wait too long, then it’s just that friends crap of a hug and a kiss – I always found a good slap on the ass broke the ice – you want me to call this guy. 3 dates… yea, something is wrong… Should have been ordering a pizza on the 3^rd date, for delivery.

Disillusioned

2008-08-22T08:21:00.005-05:00

My pessimism extends to the point of even suspecting the sincerity of the pessimists. - Jean Rostand

The quote above sums up my current perspective of my employer . I feel like the teenager who just discovered her parents are human, watching them pummel to the ground from that tall pedestal they once sat upon. Two incidents have taken place that have left me very disappointed and cynical. I pride myself on being a pretty strong optimist for the most part. Unless my spidey senses start tingling, I prefer to give people the benefit of the doubt. I thought, for the most part, the leadership at the company I work for (especially considering its size) had done a pretty decent job at simply doing the "right thing." They had adhered to the values that were set in place by a leader that encompasses those principles daily through his words and actions.

But not this week. This week rules were changed to accommodate a few key people that feel they are above such things. Those that think their role at the company is much too important for them to concern themselves with trivial policies that were written (in their mind's) to apply only to the little people. And leadership supported them on it. So a policy is going to be altered because two members of the good ole boys club deem it to be so. They wave their magic little wand and the world is put in place to suit them, rather than the wand being rammed up their ass and told to go fuck themselves.

This week has also shown me Witch Hunts are still alive and well and occurring with a startling regularity in this company. If the right person becomes frustrated with the hand they have been dealt it has become obvious that they reserve the right to take it out on the next guy in line. It is their prerogative to criticize every detail and take minor incidences and blow them completely out of proportion, shifting the blame from them to the poor slob behind them. Rather than having to look at the big picture and address their own shortcomings as a leader, they instead ridicule their subordinates and set them up for failure. They don't stop until the person ran out of town for good or burned at the stake (should they be of a more stubborn lot). And it has become very obvious there is not a damn thing I can do about it. It's political bullshit and someone in my position (especially being female on top of it) is incapable of successfully navigating the bureaucracy to stop it from happening. It makes me feel like a pathetic, useless slouch who is doomed to be tainted by the mounds up bullshit piling up around me. Eventually, my eyes will wind up as brown as their's.

I know their comes a point in everyone's lives when you have to either accept these shitty circumstances and roll over on your principles or walk away. Understanding that if you stay it will slowly eat away at your idealism until you have became a cranky old bugger just like the rest of them. I just did not expect this life lesson to slap me in the face so soon. I had hoped to hang onto the grand illusion a bit longer.

I will pick myself up and dust myself off and continue on, but I will do so baring the scars from this most recent battle. Scars that are bound to manifest themselves in a jaded, sardonic perspective of the world around me. I just hope it doesn't eventually beat all of the fire and passion out of me. Surely I possess enough strength and determination to maintain at least a steady glow.

Procrastination

2008-08-19T09:07:00.007-05:00

Seven

7 things I plan to do before I die

1) Learn to ride a motorcycle
2) Get married (maybe when I'm 70)
3) Be happy
4) Kiss an elephant on the trunk
5) Visit Bora Bora
6) Have a child
7) Become queen of the universe

7 things I can do

1) Touch my tongue to the bottom of my chin.
2) Write decently
3) a cartwheel
4) Make macaroni n cheese from memory
5) Drink a decent amount of liquor
6) Touch my toes
7) Drive a stick shift

7 things I cannot do

1) Not be a smartass
2) Turn away an animal in need
3) Commit
4) Find Kuwait on a map
5) Stop procrastinating
6) stop cussing
7) Watch movies that involve an animal dying

7 things that attract me to the opposite sex

1) Sense of humor
2) Easy going personality
3) Smile
4) Eyes
5) strong, muscular back
6) Ambition
7) Mental and emotional stability

7 things I say most often

1) Oh for fuck sake
2) Are you fucking kidding me?
3) Ass clown
4) What the hell is wrong with people?
5) This is sucking my will to live
6) That's how I roll
7) This is lame

7 celebrity crushes

1) Matt Damon
2) Gerard Butler
3) Jeffry Dean Morgan
4) Channing Tatum
5) Sandra Bullock
6) Taye Diggs
7) Sean Connery (only when he played James Bond)

Okay...it's your turn.....

Why I will never be as good as a man

2008-08-15T08:47:00.004-05:00

The industry I work in is full of overweight, white, conservative, Baby Boomer males. The "Good Ole Boys" club is still in full effect and rules the roost. As the rest of the world progresses into a less gender bias mind set, this industry stays stuck in the 1960s. They tolerate the presence of women in the work place and don't mind them much as long as they agree with the men. But heaven forbid they should have an opinion that deviates from the boys. The minute they do, they are regarded as overly emotional, hyper sensitive freaks. You get the "there, there now, go bake some cookies" looks and gestures. As if we shouldn't be worrying our pretty little heads over men's work. Obviously women's lack of a nasty sac of skin dangling between our legs with creepy lumps moving about makes us inept in a business environment.

I face this frustration daily in my current role with the company I work for. It is my responsibility to advise members of management on the appropriate disciplinary action to take with employees that have violated company policy or procedure. I think being a female allows me to consider situations presented to me from both a logical, business mindset, while still considering it is a human being I am dealing with that has a life outside of work. It is easier for me to remember this person may be having things going on outside of work that could play a role in any disciplinary issues in the work place. I'm not saying men don't have this ability as well, I just think more of them choose to ignore it. Being able to empathize with an employee, while still keeping in mind there is a business to run, is a unique quality many more women possess than men. However, when I attempt to show members of management both sides of the coin they tend to begin the "this is men's work" bullshit. I can explain it a million different ways, including the risk and liability involved with choosing to head in a different direction which would directly result in legal bills coming right out of their bottom line, but still they blow me off. I don't get emotional when I speak to them, I remain very calm and professional, but I also remain very firm. The conversation will typically end and they will then proceed to contact my boss, a male, immediately. One idiot even went so far as to say, "Call {boss}, he's a guy, he'll understand." WTF? It has nothing to do with being male or female. The company's policies remain the same whether a male or a female is interpreting them. And my boss will proceed to tell them the same thing I have said and they accept it and comply. Total bullshit.

I could just take the shit they give me and roll over, give up. But I've never been accused of being the meek and mild type. Nor have I ever been called a quitter. So why would I start now? I am going to continue to work my ass off getting the degrees, the experience, credibility with the right people, a flawless reputation until I am at the top looking down at the men that think I should stay in the kitchen washing the dishes. I am not going to stop until I'm so far up there is no where else to escalate anything to and demand they bake me cookies. I won't do it by being a bitch, or cut throat. I'll do it by busting my ass ten times harder then they do.

I won't ever be as good as a man, I'll be better.

Divided

2008-08-08T13:01:00.002-05:00

Inside a battle is raging. The two armies battle all day long. Who will win? Sanity or the havoc wreaking "illness." The light or the dark.

The week was quiet, too quiet. The light rested on it's laurels basking in the rays of victory. So busy was it, enjoying the quiet, it forgot to watch for the dark creeping silently around the edges. The dark makes it move silently, slowly penetrating the light undetected. Stealthily it cuts down the light one particle at a time, poisoning it with negative, anxious thoughts. By dawn, the light is all but diminished. Darkness prevails throughout the day, bringing the light down and dragging it behind. By the afternoon there is not even a spark to be found, only the darkness remains. It picks and nags and stomps on thoughts that were once filled with light. It twists and taints them into paranoia and worthlessness. It seeps into every crevice, no area left untouched. Every element and facet of space is consumed with the relentless badgering. It echoes, bouncing off the surrounding walls and then repeats.

A few remnants of the light crawl toward the dark begging for mercy - trying to persuade it with bouts of logic and reality. But the darkness remains firm, immune and unswayed.

Will the light be able to regroup and bound back to fight the dark? Will it ever be strong enough to fight the battle and win? The darkness makes it hard to believe in return of the light.

Why My Job Rocks

2008-08-07T08:39:00.003-05:00

Yesterday I was in a conference call with a HR manager out in St. Louis. The other attendees were my boss, the Director, and his boss, the Executive VP of HR. The topic is an investigation that took place earlier in the afternoon with the Department of Labor. The investigative team consisted of three egocentric, power hungry, societal rejects (all women). They spent four hours with the HR Manager lecturing, chastising, and threatening all over a little sticker on a piece of equipment that says "Must Be 18 to Operate." Needless to say I was pretty riled up over how they treated our HR Manager. I work with our field managers every day and feel protective of them. It irritated me to no end that they decided to target him as the next victim of their wrath. As we continue to discuss their behavior and the comments they made, I blurted out, "What a bunch of douche bags!" My boss looked at me with his eyebrows raised and the EVP responded, "Is that a term of endearment?" He chuckled and then told the HR Manager on the phone, "It's a good thing you were handling it, because I probably would have told them to fuck off!" Then he turns to me and says, "Another term of endearment." Ha. I love my job.