Today's post is a mish mash of random things in list format.
1. AOL and Facebook will not load for me tonight. I am having trouble figuring out how to procrastinate without them. I can't believe that A) this bothers me so much and B) neither of my web browers will load them. What gives? They both loaded at work for me before I left today. Is it because I use a Mac? It is isn't it?
2. I am finally backing my computer up after it's untimely automatic update installation failure of last week. I hadn't backed up since last September. Whoops, that's a fail. On the plus side of this I found an older version of a document which had gotten a tad corrupted and was therefore able to restore the data I'd lost. And that's a win!
3. People I find far more attractive than Angelina Jolie are, in no particular order:
a. Zooey Deschanel
b. Freida Pinto
c. Sarah Shahi
d. Lena Heady
e. Kate Winslet
f. Marisa Tomei
g. Tina Fey
I seriously do not understand why people think Angelina is the most beautiful person on the planet. I do not see it.
4. Why is it that after I have been sick for four days and I am still exhausted but know I have to go to work the next day my brain decides that it would be a great time to have one of those nights when IT WILL NOT SHUT THE F#@& OFF AND LET ME GET TO SLEEP and therefore I am up until 2 am trying to stop over thinking and remembering and reading and writing in my head but not actually writing that writing down and trying to place my order with the Universe and actually get it right this time (refer to my previous blog about being careful what you wish for, hi Universe, I'll have the salmon this time please)? Why is that??
5. Why do we feel compelled to go into work even when we know we need another day to recover from an illness? What good does it do us or our employer if we return to work too quickly? And for that matter why do people NOT use their sick days when they're ill and therefore spread their germs and get more people sick? That is not good for the productivity at all. Why do people think they are sooooo important that we cannot possibly live without them and their freaking germs for a day or two while they get well?
6. I am blogging instead of writing or working on submissions to literary journals as I'd planned to do tonight. How will I ever get published if I continue to procrastinate?
7. I am an excellent procrastinator. If awards were given out for procrastination I would have won dozens of them by now. Of course, the procrastinators who would conduct the awards show wouldn't have gotten down to scheduling it or to ordering the awards so....I'd still have nothing to show for my accomplishments.
8. My cat likes to sleep in my corner TV cabinet which is currently serving as an end table in my living room because I can't get it into my family room where it's supposed to go. It's too wide to go down the stairs and also too wide to come into the house through the door from the garage. I don't know why he likes to sleep in there, but he opens the doors himself and settles right in. If I don't know he's gone in there to nap it scares the bejesus out of me when he comes out of the damn thing because the doors bang shut behind him.
9. Song lyrics for this post. No reason, just because they popped into my head. Maxwell's Silver Hammer by the Beatles.
Joan was quizzicle, studied pataphysical
science in the home
late nights all alone with her test tube
Oh, oh, oh, oh
This song brings back memories of the "band" I was sort of in in like maybe 7th grade. We had a trumpet player and a sax player and I was either keyboards or flute. We rocked the house let me tell you!
10. Why do I feel compelled to have this list be an even number? Why can't I let it stay at 9 or even add another random thought to make it 11? I must learn to curb the obsessive compulsive behavior. Not that it's bad right now, but the potential is sooooo there.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
So freaking sick
Well, no wonder I was so tired at the beginning of the week. My body was preparing to get sick. And when I say sick I mean you can barely get off the couch or out of bed sick. Weak and exhausted and achy with a huge headache and a fever of 102. I would like to thank my boss for this illness. I would like to thank her for "using her best judgment" and "acting as an adult" and deciding to come to work and be a freaking martyr when if she would have just stayed home for a few days she wouldn't have gotten the rest of us so sick.
Yes, the rest of us. There's me and I'd say at least four other people that I know of in our department that are sick because of her. And I think I probably gave it to at least one friend because she's sick too (sorry Francesca, but movie night was still fun!).
I shouldn't be blogging right now, I should be sleeping. But I fear that if I do sleep now I won't sleep tonight. And the laptop is so nice and warm on my lap and my feet are like blocks of ice. And I ache from laying down so much. My back is killing me. Oh and I am crampy. Because it's not good enough just to be sick, I have to have my freaking period too.
This is when I miss living with someone. When I need another cup of tea or some soup or someone to let the dog out or take her for a walk because she is bored out of her mind and does not understand that mommy is so sick she can barely peel herself off the couch. Otherwise I love living alone.
I really have nothing more to say. So sick, so mad at my boss, so nearly out of canned soup, so not up to going to the grocery store, so afraid to shower because I nearly passed out getting out of the shower yesterday so really not up to being seen in public. I don't even have a song quote for this post. Too sick for that.
Yes, the rest of us. There's me and I'd say at least four other people that I know of in our department that are sick because of her. And I think I probably gave it to at least one friend because she's sick too (sorry Francesca, but movie night was still fun!).
I shouldn't be blogging right now, I should be sleeping. But I fear that if I do sleep now I won't sleep tonight. And the laptop is so nice and warm on my lap and my feet are like blocks of ice. And I ache from laying down so much. My back is killing me. Oh and I am crampy. Because it's not good enough just to be sick, I have to have my freaking period too.
This is when I miss living with someone. When I need another cup of tea or some soup or someone to let the dog out or take her for a walk because she is bored out of her mind and does not understand that mommy is so sick she can barely peel herself off the couch. Otherwise I love living alone.
I really have nothing more to say. So sick, so mad at my boss, so nearly out of canned soup, so not up to going to the grocery store, so afraid to shower because I nearly passed out getting out of the shower yesterday so really not up to being seen in public. I don't even have a song quote for this post. Too sick for that.
Monday, February 16, 2009
So sleepy
The title of this post has nothing to do with it's content. I am just very very sleepy. Today is President's Day, a day off from work for a lot of folks, but just another day at the office for me. And I am tired, it was a long day. There is so much to do and only so many hours.
And during this long day Ms. Ex, who presumably has the day off of work, decides she should text me. And I quote "hey...havent heard from you in a while. how are you? how are the animals?" I have not and am not going to bother with replying. Because we are not friends. I do not want to be friends. I have a feeling this text is the start of her monthly check ins again. I hadn't heard from her since before Christmas and was hoping not to hear from her again for a while.
She just doesn't see why I don't want to be BFF's. For me, that part of my life is over and done with. The chapter is finished and is not to be revisted. I don't want to walk down memory lane. I don't miss her in my life. I just want her to leave me alone. The problem is when Maggie got sick I was nice and let Ms. Ex see her. Because I felt bad and I thought I'd want to know if something happened to our other dog (the one who now lives with Ms. Ex). And I had to be civil while she was visiting Maggie. Make conversation and act nice. Which is what I did (I am good at it, very good).
But now I'm not so sure I'd even want to know if something happened to our other dog. Because I would be constantly second guessing the decisions Ms. Ex made on how to handle it. And I don't need that kind of stress in my life. And I don't need a reminder of what it was like to live with her for so long.
Anyway, I'm too tired to write more tonight. Seriously, I am ready for bed. So tonight's lyrics are from the musical Rent because as you may know I am OBSESSED with Rent (Hi Francesca!). And also because I think they fit. So, here is a snippet from Happy New Year.
ROGER
Bolted plywood, padlocked with a chain.
A total dead end
Maureen
Just like my ex-girlfriend
And during this long day Ms. Ex, who presumably has the day off of work, decides she should text me. And I quote "hey...havent heard from you in a while. how are you? how are the animals?" I have not and am not going to bother with replying. Because we are not friends. I do not want to be friends. I have a feeling this text is the start of her monthly check ins again. I hadn't heard from her since before Christmas and was hoping not to hear from her again for a while.
She just doesn't see why I don't want to be BFF's. For me, that part of my life is over and done with. The chapter is finished and is not to be revisted. I don't want to walk down memory lane. I don't miss her in my life. I just want her to leave me alone. The problem is when Maggie got sick I was nice and let Ms. Ex see her. Because I felt bad and I thought I'd want to know if something happened to our other dog (the one who now lives with Ms. Ex). And I had to be civil while she was visiting Maggie. Make conversation and act nice. Which is what I did (I am good at it, very good).
But now I'm not so sure I'd even want to know if something happened to our other dog. Because I would be constantly second guessing the decisions Ms. Ex made on how to handle it. And I don't need that kind of stress in my life. And I don't need a reminder of what it was like to live with her for so long.
Anyway, I'm too tired to write more tonight. Seriously, I am ready for bed. So tonight's lyrics are from the musical Rent because as you may know I am OBSESSED with Rent (Hi Francesca!). And also because I think they fit. So, here is a snippet from Happy New Year.
ROGER
Bolted plywood, padlocked with a chain.
A total dead end
Maureen
Just like my ex-girlfriend
Monday, February 2, 2009
Be Careful What You Wish For...
Today's lyrics are from Careful What You Wish For by Jonatha Brooke.
Careful what you wish for, careful what you do
Even when you whisper, someone's listening to you
Careful what you wish for, careful what you say
Careful what you wish for, 'cuz it just might come true someday
In late December of 2007 I started reading The Secret by Rhonda Byrne. It's all about the law of attraction and how we attract what we put out into the Universe (negative attracts negative, positive attracts positive, etc.). I was at a really low point in my life about then (as I've blogged about before) and I thought I'd give the law of attraction a try to see if I could perhaps make a change in my life. I figured it couldn't hurt, I mean after all it's really just thinking and God knows I do PLENTY of that already so what could a little more (and more focused) thinking hurt?
Frankly I didn't really think it worked very well (apparently I am an immediate results kind of person when it comes to stuff like this, I have to work on that). Sure, things got better for me as last year progressed peaking sometime in July, but I attributed that to finally moving on after Ms. Ex and finding FMHW and finally feeling good about myself again, like I had direction and a purpose and of all things feeling that I actually had friends. I kind of forgot about the thoughts I sent out to the Universe as the months wore on. Until recently that is, when I started reflecting on my life as I am so wont to do. And that's when I remembered exactly what I'd sent out to the Universe last January.
And you know what? I got precisely what I asked for. I'm not going to go into the details of what exactly I asked for and truly believed I would get (because believing is part of the secret to the law of attraction). But I got it for sure, there's no doubt in my mind that the Universe heard and responded to my request. The thing is though, what I asked for and what I truly wanted were not one and the same. And there in lies the rub. My request was fulfilled but I didn't order what I really wanted.
It's kind of like going to a restaurant. You read the menu and look over all the choices and listen to the server recite the specials and then you ponder what it is that sounds best to you and order that. But when the food is actually put in front of you, delicious though it is, you realize that even though the cod special sounded divine when you ordered it, you really would rather have had the salmon. I asked the Universe for the cod special last January and that is what I got. But you know what? I really wanted the salmon.
I have learned a couple things from this, the first being that the old adage really is true, you do have to be careful what you wish for because you just might get it. The second is that the law of attraction really does work but you need to be pretty specific about what it is that you want or you'll end up getting cod instead of salmon. And while cod is certainly good, it will NEVER be the salmon you really wanted. I'm going to figure out how to ask the Universe for my salmon and you can bet that I'm going to be darned careful how I ask for it. Because for all I know a year from now I could be blogging about how I thought I'd ordered salmon this time but it turned out I'd really ordered pork chops instead. And I don't eat pork.
Careful what you wish for, careful what you do
Even when you whisper, someone's listening to you
Careful what you wish for, careful what you say
Careful what you wish for, 'cuz it just might come true someday
In late December of 2007 I started reading The Secret by Rhonda Byrne. It's all about the law of attraction and how we attract what we put out into the Universe (negative attracts negative, positive attracts positive, etc.). I was at a really low point in my life about then (as I've blogged about before) and I thought I'd give the law of attraction a try to see if I could perhaps make a change in my life. I figured it couldn't hurt, I mean after all it's really just thinking and God knows I do PLENTY of that already so what could a little more (and more focused) thinking hurt?
Frankly I didn't really think it worked very well (apparently I am an immediate results kind of person when it comes to stuff like this, I have to work on that). Sure, things got better for me as last year progressed peaking sometime in July, but I attributed that to finally moving on after Ms. Ex and finding FMHW and finally feeling good about myself again, like I had direction and a purpose and of all things feeling that I actually had friends. I kind of forgot about the thoughts I sent out to the Universe as the months wore on. Until recently that is, when I started reflecting on my life as I am so wont to do. And that's when I remembered exactly what I'd sent out to the Universe last January.
And you know what? I got precisely what I asked for. I'm not going to go into the details of what exactly I asked for and truly believed I would get (because believing is part of the secret to the law of attraction). But I got it for sure, there's no doubt in my mind that the Universe heard and responded to my request. The thing is though, what I asked for and what I truly wanted were not one and the same. And there in lies the rub. My request was fulfilled but I didn't order what I really wanted.
It's kind of like going to a restaurant. You read the menu and look over all the choices and listen to the server recite the specials and then you ponder what it is that sounds best to you and order that. But when the food is actually put in front of you, delicious though it is, you realize that even though the cod special sounded divine when you ordered it, you really would rather have had the salmon. I asked the Universe for the cod special last January and that is what I got. But you know what? I really wanted the salmon.
I have learned a couple things from this, the first being that the old adage really is true, you do have to be careful what you wish for because you just might get it. The second is that the law of attraction really does work but you need to be pretty specific about what it is that you want or you'll end up getting cod instead of salmon. And while cod is certainly good, it will NEVER be the salmon you really wanted. I'm going to figure out how to ask the Universe for my salmon and you can bet that I'm going to be darned careful how I ask for it. Because for all I know a year from now I could be blogging about how I thought I'd ordered salmon this time but it turned out I'd really ordered pork chops instead. And I don't eat pork.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Saturday night musings
Today's lyrics are from Paperback Writer by The Beatles. I love the Beatles. Yesterday, Blackbird, Hey Jude, Let It Be are some of my favorite songs of all time. I remember when I was a kid my mom would put records on while we ate dinner (yes actual records that have two sides with grooves in them and are played by a record player with actual needles). She would also light candles and she and my dad would share a bottle of wine. So much has changed since those days.....anyway, back to the lyrics.
Dear Sir or Madam will you read my book?
It took me years to write, will you take a look?
It's based on a novel by a man named Lear
And I need a job so I wanted to be a paperback writer,
Paperback writer.
I'm sitting on my love seat (because I don't have a real couch yet, that will be here on Tuesday and after like four plus years I will finally be able to lay down and stretch out while watching movies again) and listening to 80's music on Sirius radio (thank you Dish Network!). This is my wild and crazy Saturday night. You know you're jealous of me, I can almost see how green you are with envy. I just finished watching the movie "In The Land of Women" which I really enjoyed. Incidentally, is it wrong for someone in their 30's to find an 18 year old completely and utterly hot? Just wondering.
Anyway, the movie was good and while some people might have focused on the mother/daughter relationship or perhaps the grandmother/grandson relationship or even the life/death aspect, I found myself focused on the writing aspect of the movie. Because the main character is a writer (in the soft porn industry) who has wanted to write the story of his high school experience for eleven years but has yet to do so. Sometimes I feel like this guy. I have all these ideas inside my head that I just can't seem to get down on paper (or on the computer screen).
But the thing that struck me the most was how this guy, Carter, described letters he'd written to his ex-girlfriend. And how he thought that if he could write the perfect letter then maybe someone would love him and that these letters were the best writing he'd ever done. And you know what? I totally get that. I spend a lot of time when I write trying to find the perfect words, trying to find the exact turn of phrase to illustrate what I'm saying. I do this not only when I'm writing poetry and prose and blog posts, but even with e-mails I write at work. I reread everything at least once to make sure it has the right tone and feel and rhythm. I am maybe obsessed a bit with words....
Somewhere along the line I got this notion in my head that if I write something that's crafted exquisitely with great attention to detail and careful or even better yet deliberate word choices then people will immediately understand me and where I'm coming from and why. Perhaps they'll even fall in love with me. I believe in the power of words. I believe that the pen is mightier than the sword. I believe that one day the words I write will speak to someone's heart. And that is why I must be careful and deliberate when I write. I wouldn't want to miss my chance to touch someone. Wouldn't want to miss my chance to catch the attention of the right person, perhaps even the elusive "one" (or at the very least an agent or a publisher who thinks I'm brilliant).
And also in the back of my mind is the thought that my cat is playing with something in the kitchen hold on.....okay, I'm back. The cat was playing with my earring which I didn't even know was not in my ear. And here's a weird fact about me, if I take my earrings out for a few hours my holes start to close. I guess I have the power of super healing in my ears because it took me a while to get the earring back in (ouch). This is why I sleep and shower and swim, etc. with my earrings in and take them out only to clean them on occasion. Perhaps more than you needed or wanted to know about me. Okay, where was I?
Right, also in the back of my mind is the thought that if I write the perfect e-mail I can make someone fall in love with me so deeply they can't imagine their life without me. Because that's a rational thought. As if my words are so awesome they can reach right off the page and ensnare someone like that. As if me as a person and me in person has nothing at all to do with that. As if chemistry and compatibility were not factors at all. Nope, the absolute most well crafted and perfect e-mail is going to make the difference for me in that department, it will be the one thing that makes or breaks me. I bet there's a support group for people like me. I wonder when and where they meet....and if I send them the perfect e-mail maybe they'll let me join....
Really what it boils down to is my love of words. How they flow together and how the right combination of words can hold you riveted to the page while tears roll down your cheeks or while you laugh or while shivers run up and down your spine as you fight the urge to get up and make sure your doors are all locked and no one is hiding in your shower (or is that last one just me?). I want to make someone's heart swell and soul sing as they read the words I wrote to them. I know she's out there, perhaps we've already met, perhaps we have yet to meet, but she's out there and when I find her or she finds me I will write to her. And she will be my muse, the inspiration which guides my artistic vision.
Also on the subject of writing I would like to know where my blog to book deal is. Have you seen it? Because I feel as though I am behind the eight ball on this. I mean I've been blogging for a few months now so clearly I should be getting a book deal out of it right? Wait, what's that you say? You mean more than like four people need to be reading my blog for me to be getting a book deal out of it? Huh. I'll have to work on that. I'll add it to my goals list for 2009.
And in more exciting news....Maggie climbed the stairs on her own!!! I know I haven't talked about her at all really since her surgery three months ago, but she's doing great (a fact for which I am extremely grateful every single day). We've been going to hydrotherapy a couple times a week (okay, okay SHE'S been going to hydrotherapy I have merely been chauffeuring her there and back). I came home from work yesterday and left her down stairs when I went up to change my clothes. I heard her nails on the floor in the hallway and was so happy to see her little face turn the corner and come into the bedroom as though it was nothing, as though it was a piece of cake and she hadn't ever had extensive surgery to repair the chronic herniated disc in her back. She's repeated the feat a couple times since which is a great sign. She still won't go down the stairs on her own, perhaps in time, perhaps not. But I've gotten very adroit at carrying her under one arm and lots of stuff with the other. It's a darned good thing she's a small dog and that I'm not too clumsy!
I don't think she'll ever know how much she means to me. I didn't used to understand the phrase "heart dog" but I certainly do now. Maggie is my heart dog, that once in a lifetime dog. I have a list longer than you can imagine of people who want to take her from me. I'm beginning to wonder if the folks at her hydrotherapists are just not going to give her back to me someday because they all love her so much. You know what they say about getting between a momma bear and her cub? Like just don't do it? Well, I'm the momma bear and Maggie is my cub. And though she cannot read I know that she understands me when I talk to her and that my words touch her soul like her wagging tail and goofy smile touch mine.
Dear Sir or Madam will you read my book?
It took me years to write, will you take a look?
It's based on a novel by a man named Lear
And I need a job so I wanted to be a paperback writer,
Paperback writer.
I'm sitting on my love seat (because I don't have a real couch yet, that will be here on Tuesday and after like four plus years I will finally be able to lay down and stretch out while watching movies again) and listening to 80's music on Sirius radio (thank you Dish Network!). This is my wild and crazy Saturday night. You know you're jealous of me, I can almost see how green you are with envy. I just finished watching the movie "In The Land of Women" which I really enjoyed. Incidentally, is it wrong for someone in their 30's to find an 18 year old completely and utterly hot? Just wondering.
Anyway, the movie was good and while some people might have focused on the mother/daughter relationship or perhaps the grandmother/grandson relationship or even the life/death aspect, I found myself focused on the writing aspect of the movie. Because the main character is a writer (in the soft porn industry) who has wanted to write the story of his high school experience for eleven years but has yet to do so. Sometimes I feel like this guy. I have all these ideas inside my head that I just can't seem to get down on paper (or on the computer screen).
But the thing that struck me the most was how this guy, Carter, described letters he'd written to his ex-girlfriend. And how he thought that if he could write the perfect letter then maybe someone would love him and that these letters were the best writing he'd ever done. And you know what? I totally get that. I spend a lot of time when I write trying to find the perfect words, trying to find the exact turn of phrase to illustrate what I'm saying. I do this not only when I'm writing poetry and prose and blog posts, but even with e-mails I write at work. I reread everything at least once to make sure it has the right tone and feel and rhythm. I am maybe obsessed a bit with words....
Somewhere along the line I got this notion in my head that if I write something that's crafted exquisitely with great attention to detail and careful or even better yet deliberate word choices then people will immediately understand me and where I'm coming from and why. Perhaps they'll even fall in love with me. I believe in the power of words. I believe that the pen is mightier than the sword. I believe that one day the words I write will speak to someone's heart. And that is why I must be careful and deliberate when I write. I wouldn't want to miss my chance to touch someone. Wouldn't want to miss my chance to catch the attention of the right person, perhaps even the elusive "one" (or at the very least an agent or a publisher who thinks I'm brilliant).
And also in the back of my mind is the thought that my cat is playing with something in the kitchen hold on.....okay, I'm back. The cat was playing with my earring which I didn't even know was not in my ear. And here's a weird fact about me, if I take my earrings out for a few hours my holes start to close. I guess I have the power of super healing in my ears because it took me a while to get the earring back in (ouch). This is why I sleep and shower and swim, etc. with my earrings in and take them out only to clean them on occasion. Perhaps more than you needed or wanted to know about me. Okay, where was I?
Right, also in the back of my mind is the thought that if I write the perfect e-mail I can make someone fall in love with me so deeply they can't imagine their life without me. Because that's a rational thought. As if my words are so awesome they can reach right off the page and ensnare someone like that. As if me as a person and me in person has nothing at all to do with that. As if chemistry and compatibility were not factors at all. Nope, the absolute most well crafted and perfect e-mail is going to make the difference for me in that department, it will be the one thing that makes or breaks me. I bet there's a support group for people like me. I wonder when and where they meet....and if I send them the perfect e-mail maybe they'll let me join....
Really what it boils down to is my love of words. How they flow together and how the right combination of words can hold you riveted to the page while tears roll down your cheeks or while you laugh or while shivers run up and down your spine as you fight the urge to get up and make sure your doors are all locked and no one is hiding in your shower (or is that last one just me?). I want to make someone's heart swell and soul sing as they read the words I wrote to them. I know she's out there, perhaps we've already met, perhaps we have yet to meet, but she's out there and when I find her or she finds me I will write to her. And she will be my muse, the inspiration which guides my artistic vision.
Also on the subject of writing I would like to know where my blog to book deal is. Have you seen it? Because I feel as though I am behind the eight ball on this. I mean I've been blogging for a few months now so clearly I should be getting a book deal out of it right? Wait, what's that you say? You mean more than like four people need to be reading my blog for me to be getting a book deal out of it? Huh. I'll have to work on that. I'll add it to my goals list for 2009.
And in more exciting news....Maggie climbed the stairs on her own!!! I know I haven't talked about her at all really since her surgery three months ago, but she's doing great (a fact for which I am extremely grateful every single day). We've been going to hydrotherapy a couple times a week (okay, okay SHE'S been going to hydrotherapy I have merely been chauffeuring her there and back). I came home from work yesterday and left her down stairs when I went up to change my clothes. I heard her nails on the floor in the hallway and was so happy to see her little face turn the corner and come into the bedroom as though it was nothing, as though it was a piece of cake and she hadn't ever had extensive surgery to repair the chronic herniated disc in her back. She's repeated the feat a couple times since which is a great sign. She still won't go down the stairs on her own, perhaps in time, perhaps not. But I've gotten very adroit at carrying her under one arm and lots of stuff with the other. It's a darned good thing she's a small dog and that I'm not too clumsy!
I don't think she'll ever know how much she means to me. I didn't used to understand the phrase "heart dog" but I certainly do now. Maggie is my heart dog, that once in a lifetime dog. I have a list longer than you can imagine of people who want to take her from me. I'm beginning to wonder if the folks at her hydrotherapists are just not going to give her back to me someday because they all love her so much. You know what they say about getting between a momma bear and her cub? Like just don't do it? Well, I'm the momma bear and Maggie is my cub. And though she cannot read I know that she understands me when I talk to her and that my words touch her soul like her wagging tail and goofy smile touch mine.
Monday, January 26, 2009
The scars
Sometimes I am amazed at where my mind travels. Other times those travels seem like completely logical thought progressions. I'm not sure which category tonight's blog post falls under not that it really matters I suppose. I spent a fair amount of time finding lyrics for tonight's post, partially because I wanted to make sure they were just right and partially because I needed some time to process my thought process.
So, without further ado, I give you Peachy by Missy Higgins (who is pretty darned good for her age, if she keeps at it I think she could have a heck of a career).
It's not my fault, it can't be my fault
That you speak to me the way you do.
Now I'm split in two, I'm half me half you
But I hate us both, don't you?
No, of course you don't, of course you don't
You say life is peachy without me
Of course you don't, of course you don't
You say life is peachy without me
And it's not your fault, it can't be your fault
That I let you crawl inside my head
Tonight I was watching an episode of the L Word that I DVR'd last night. Usually I watch it the night it airs since it's one of my favorite shows, but yesterday I was just plain tired and fell asleep on the couch trying to finish a movie so I didn't get a chance to watch it. Anyway, there was a scene in this episode where Helena chases after Dylan (who we haven't seen in a looonnngggg time) and basically gives her hell for what she did to her a couple seasons ago (it involved Dylan framing her and extorting money based on a false sexual harrassment claim which then nearly ruined her life in case you wanted to know). And that short scene my dear readers (all both of you) is what spawned this post tonight.
While I was watching it I got to thinking that Ms. Ex really did some damage to me emotionally, she left scars that I really hope will fade one day. Because even though I wanted more than anything to fight for my relationship with FMHW I didn't do it. And the reason I didn't is because of Ms. Ex. Not because I want to be with her or anything super crazy like that (I shudder at the mere thought!), rather because she taught me to crawl into this tiny place inside myself and just shut the fuck up when I had something to say.
I say that she taught me this but maybe it was more that I learned it was the easier way to deal with her rather than her actually teaching me this. Who knows and the point is really moot now anyway since the damage is done and I am left to heal these wounds on my own. Anyway, Ms. Ex used to tell me that I was "justifying" all the time when I tried to explain my feelings to her. God how I hate that word now (also I hate the word amazing, but that is for another post). I thought explaining my side of the story was a perfectly reasonable thing to do until she'd throw one word at me. "Justification!" she'd say and then expect that would be the end of it. And after a while it was the end of it and after a little while longer I just stopped trying to explain myself all together. Because she didn't want to hear it no matter how much I needed or wanted to tell her. Because my feelings and thoughts and emotions weren't important enough to her for her to hear my side of things. I know, I know, this should have been clue number one million and fifty two that we were just bad together, but it wasn't, at least not at the time.
And while I was learning NOT to explain myself I was also learning how not to show emotions to anyone; learning how to jam a cork on those emotions until I was alone and could pop the cork in private. Or not pop the cork at all and just leave those emotions to fester and broil and turn putrid in my soul. I learned how to do this fun little trick because if we were having a "discussion" and I cried (for any reason) she would call me a baby just like how an elementary school bully calls their chosen target a baby. "Don't be such a baby" she'd say. A grown woman calling another grown woman a baby for having emotions and letting them show. I am a very sensitive person. I cry at commercials, I cry at books, I cry at movies, I cry at songs, I cry from thoughts. Hell I even cried one time when asking for a raise! If something touches me I cry, I can't help it, it's who I am. But when you're called a baby enough times you learn how to bottle your emotions pretty damn quickly. I can swallow tears and hide behind a fake smile with the best of them.
These are the things that the woman who supposedly loved me taught me. These are the things I let her teach me. These are the things I now have to unlearn, the wounds, the scars that I have to heal. This is my baggage, at least a part of it.
So, when I should have yelled or cried or shown the slightest hint of irrational emotion with FMHW I didn't. I told her that I understood, that it was okay even though I was mad as hell and really just wanted to cry and ask her why because frankly even though intellectually I understood, emotionally I sure as hell did NOT understand (still don't actually). I simply listened to her talk and then hugged her to let her know it was okay. And now I am left to wonder if showing emotion, showing that I cared like Helena chasing after Dylan and yelling at her, would have made any difference at all. It probably wouldn't have but I'll never know because Ms. Ex made me scared to express myself in that way.
If you've never had someone treat you like this you really have no idea how much of an effect it can have on you. And when you are the person that is treated that way you don't see the affects until you've gained some distance and perspective. But how do you heal these scars? How do you learn how to "justify" again? How do you learn how to cry in front of someone? How do you unlearn these lessons? I suppose it involves stepping out of your comfort zone and actually explaining to someone how you feel even though you can still hear "Justification!" in her voice in your head. It probably involves allowing yourself to get angry and show someone that you're angry no matter how you think they might react to that anger and emotion. It probably involves accepting yourself for who you are and how your emotions work and just saying to hell with what other people may think of you for it.
For now though I can tell you that those wounds remain. The scars are still fresh and pretty vivid reddish purple color.
So, without further ado, I give you Peachy by Missy Higgins (who is pretty darned good for her age, if she keeps at it I think she could have a heck of a career).
It's not my fault, it can't be my fault
That you speak to me the way you do.
Now I'm split in two, I'm half me half you
But I hate us both, don't you?
No, of course you don't, of course you don't
You say life is peachy without me
Of course you don't, of course you don't
You say life is peachy without me
And it's not your fault, it can't be your fault
That I let you crawl inside my head
Tonight I was watching an episode of the L Word that I DVR'd last night. Usually I watch it the night it airs since it's one of my favorite shows, but yesterday I was just plain tired and fell asleep on the couch trying to finish a movie so I didn't get a chance to watch it. Anyway, there was a scene in this episode where Helena chases after Dylan (who we haven't seen in a looonnngggg time) and basically gives her hell for what she did to her a couple seasons ago (it involved Dylan framing her and extorting money based on a false sexual harrassment claim which then nearly ruined her life in case you wanted to know). And that short scene my dear readers (all both of you) is what spawned this post tonight.
While I was watching it I got to thinking that Ms. Ex really did some damage to me emotionally, she left scars that I really hope will fade one day. Because even though I wanted more than anything to fight for my relationship with FMHW I didn't do it. And the reason I didn't is because of Ms. Ex. Not because I want to be with her or anything super crazy like that (I shudder at the mere thought!), rather because she taught me to crawl into this tiny place inside myself and just shut the fuck up when I had something to say.
I say that she taught me this but maybe it was more that I learned it was the easier way to deal with her rather than her actually teaching me this. Who knows and the point is really moot now anyway since the damage is done and I am left to heal these wounds on my own. Anyway, Ms. Ex used to tell me that I was "justifying" all the time when I tried to explain my feelings to her. God how I hate that word now (also I hate the word amazing, but that is for another post). I thought explaining my side of the story was a perfectly reasonable thing to do until she'd throw one word at me. "Justification!" she'd say and then expect that would be the end of it. And after a while it was the end of it and after a little while longer I just stopped trying to explain myself all together. Because she didn't want to hear it no matter how much I needed or wanted to tell her. Because my feelings and thoughts and emotions weren't important enough to her for her to hear my side of things. I know, I know, this should have been clue number one million and fifty two that we were just bad together, but it wasn't, at least not at the time.
And while I was learning NOT to explain myself I was also learning how not to show emotions to anyone; learning how to jam a cork on those emotions until I was alone and could pop the cork in private. Or not pop the cork at all and just leave those emotions to fester and broil and turn putrid in my soul. I learned how to do this fun little trick because if we were having a "discussion" and I cried (for any reason) she would call me a baby just like how an elementary school bully calls their chosen target a baby. "Don't be such a baby" she'd say. A grown woman calling another grown woman a baby for having emotions and letting them show. I am a very sensitive person. I cry at commercials, I cry at books, I cry at movies, I cry at songs, I cry from thoughts. Hell I even cried one time when asking for a raise! If something touches me I cry, I can't help it, it's who I am. But when you're called a baby enough times you learn how to bottle your emotions pretty damn quickly. I can swallow tears and hide behind a fake smile with the best of them.
These are the things that the woman who supposedly loved me taught me. These are the things I let her teach me. These are the things I now have to unlearn, the wounds, the scars that I have to heal. This is my baggage, at least a part of it.
So, when I should have yelled or cried or shown the slightest hint of irrational emotion with FMHW I didn't. I told her that I understood, that it was okay even though I was mad as hell and really just wanted to cry and ask her why because frankly even though intellectually I understood, emotionally I sure as hell did NOT understand (still don't actually). I simply listened to her talk and then hugged her to let her know it was okay. And now I am left to wonder if showing emotion, showing that I cared like Helena chasing after Dylan and yelling at her, would have made any difference at all. It probably wouldn't have but I'll never know because Ms. Ex made me scared to express myself in that way.
If you've never had someone treat you like this you really have no idea how much of an effect it can have on you. And when you are the person that is treated that way you don't see the affects until you've gained some distance and perspective. But how do you heal these scars? How do you learn how to "justify" again? How do you learn how to cry in front of someone? How do you unlearn these lessons? I suppose it involves stepping out of your comfort zone and actually explaining to someone how you feel even though you can still hear "Justification!" in her voice in your head. It probably involves allowing yourself to get angry and show someone that you're angry no matter how you think they might react to that anger and emotion. It probably involves accepting yourself for who you are and how your emotions work and just saying to hell with what other people may think of you for it.
For now though I can tell you that those wounds remain. The scars are still fresh and pretty vivid reddish purple color.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Seriously?
I have to wonder if these things happen to other people. Really, do they? Or is it just me?
It snowed last night and throughout the morning. I didn't clear my driveway until later this afternoon and then had to go out and feed a co-worker's cat. I decided that first I'd head over to Wal-Mart and take a tour around the store. I wanted to look at a few things and besides sometimes it's nice to just get out of the house and be surrounded by strangers buying crap they don't need.
As I pulled into the parking lot I saw three cop cars parked outside which is strange. When I walked into the store I saw two teenage girls being escorted out of the store in handcuffs and surrounded by police officers. The girl in front had this smug sort of shit eating grin on her face as though she was HAPPY to be led out of the store in handcuffs. This would have been enough of a story for me but of course that wasn't enough for the Universe. Nope, not enough for today.
After walking past the cops escorting the shop lifters from the store I headed back to the electronics section to look for something which I did not find. So, I left that department and headed back toward the front of the store. And who do I see headed in my direction? The woman from Coffee Date Number One of course! The one who e-mailed me a few hours after our "date" to say she'd like to get to know me better and to which I have not responded. I made a quick change in direction and headed for a hiding place. Because that is the grown up thing to do right?
But really, where do you hide in a Wal-Mart? I found a support pole on the other side of the store and leaned myself up against it nonchalantly for a minute while I texted a friend to tell her about my situation. Then I pretended to "shop" for a few minutes while I figured out what to do next. "Shopping" involved me peeking around aisles trying to make sure I wouldn't bump into her unexpectedly. And what to do next of course was try to see if I could find her in the store without her seeing me. Because it's better to be the hunter than the hunted right? What I really wanted to do was leave, but I didn't want to risk her seeing me which could have led to an awkward encounter. Because what do you say to the person who sent you an e-mail a week ago to which you have not responded? Especially if you really aren't intersted in that person? Would it go something like this?
Me: Um hi.
Her: Hey, so I sent you a message. I had a good time the other night.
Me: Um, yeah about that. I've been really busy and haven't had a chance to respond. Sorry about that.
Her: So, would you like to get together again soon?
Me: Um, yeah so about that.....
And then I would stutter and try to figure out how to let her down easily which would of course turn into us getting together again sometime this coming week followed by a relationship. So, obvioulsy trying to hide from her was the better choice.
And hiding from her is of course what led to me standing at the end of an aisle mostly hidden by some shelving and watching her check out and leave the store. And it was blatantly obvious to anyone watching me that I was up to something, or at least it felt like that to me. I guess I should be thankful that the cops had already left with the shoplifters.....but I don't think she saw me.
Once I was sure she was gone and had had enough time to get in her car I got the heck out of dodge. And no, I did not buy anything. Do things like this happen to other people? And now it's been a week since she e-mailed me and I really don't know what to say to her (which is I guess an answer for both of us). And what if she DID see me? What then? Oy vey.
I don't even have a song for this post so I'm just going to open my iTunes and pick something, anything.
So, I give you Roll With It, Ani DiFranco.
She says my ass hurts
When I sit down
She says my feet hurt
From just standing around
I think my body is as restless as my mind
And I don't know if I can roll with it this time
It snowed last night and throughout the morning. I didn't clear my driveway until later this afternoon and then had to go out and feed a co-worker's cat. I decided that first I'd head over to Wal-Mart and take a tour around the store. I wanted to look at a few things and besides sometimes it's nice to just get out of the house and be surrounded by strangers buying crap they don't need.
As I pulled into the parking lot I saw three cop cars parked outside which is strange. When I walked into the store I saw two teenage girls being escorted out of the store in handcuffs and surrounded by police officers. The girl in front had this smug sort of shit eating grin on her face as though she was HAPPY to be led out of the store in handcuffs. This would have been enough of a story for me but of course that wasn't enough for the Universe. Nope, not enough for today.
After walking past the cops escorting the shop lifters from the store I headed back to the electronics section to look for something which I did not find. So, I left that department and headed back toward the front of the store. And who do I see headed in my direction? The woman from Coffee Date Number One of course! The one who e-mailed me a few hours after our "date" to say she'd like to get to know me better and to which I have not responded. I made a quick change in direction and headed for a hiding place. Because that is the grown up thing to do right?
But really, where do you hide in a Wal-Mart? I found a support pole on the other side of the store and leaned myself up against it nonchalantly for a minute while I texted a friend to tell her about my situation. Then I pretended to "shop" for a few minutes while I figured out what to do next. "Shopping" involved me peeking around aisles trying to make sure I wouldn't bump into her unexpectedly. And what to do next of course was try to see if I could find her in the store without her seeing me. Because it's better to be the hunter than the hunted right? What I really wanted to do was leave, but I didn't want to risk her seeing me which could have led to an awkward encounter. Because what do you say to the person who sent you an e-mail a week ago to which you have not responded? Especially if you really aren't intersted in that person? Would it go something like this?
Me: Um hi.
Her: Hey, so I sent you a message. I had a good time the other night.
Me: Um, yeah about that. I've been really busy and haven't had a chance to respond. Sorry about that.
Her: So, would you like to get together again soon?
Me: Um, yeah so about that.....
And then I would stutter and try to figure out how to let her down easily which would of course turn into us getting together again sometime this coming week followed by a relationship. So, obvioulsy trying to hide from her was the better choice.
And hiding from her is of course what led to me standing at the end of an aisle mostly hidden by some shelving and watching her check out and leave the store. And it was blatantly obvious to anyone watching me that I was up to something, or at least it felt like that to me. I guess I should be thankful that the cops had already left with the shoplifters.....but I don't think she saw me.
Once I was sure she was gone and had had enough time to get in her car I got the heck out of dodge. And no, I did not buy anything. Do things like this happen to other people? And now it's been a week since she e-mailed me and I really don't know what to say to her (which is I guess an answer for both of us). And what if she DID see me? What then? Oy vey.
I don't even have a song for this post so I'm just going to open my iTunes and pick something, anything.
So, I give you Roll With It, Ani DiFranco.
She says my ass hurts
When I sit down
She says my feet hurt
From just standing around
I think my body is as restless as my mind
And I don't know if I can roll with it this time
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