I'm listening to Jeff Buckley's version of Hallelujah, because I love the lyric "Well love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah..." What a great song.
Anyway, the boys are (well were - Hubby just woke up) konked out after an exciting, gift-loaded, busy Christmas Eve day, so I have Pretty In Pink on the tv, muted because I can practically recite it line by line (I love John Hughes) and pulling up interesting videos on YouTube. You see, I live quite the exciting life donchaknow?
I am largely uninspired to write any poetry or anything like that, although I am quite angst-filled as usual. The holidays are not a good time for me. I get anxious - more anxious - and I just am forever wishing them away. It's a little better now that G is here but nevertheless - I'm ready for them to be over.
So tonight, I am just introspective, thinking that another year has gone by, I've hit another birthday (and am far older than I'd like to consider let alone admit), and yet here I sit, in the same quagmire that's plagued me for nearly a decade now. When you've been in such a state of uncertainty - or seeming uncertainty - for that long, maybe it's just your life, you know?
My Christmas-y duties are over and in a few short hours, my rambunctious 8.5 year old will tear into our room and demand we go check out his loot. What he doesn't know is that I know he will also be testing out his "Is Santa real?" experiment. I think he's going to find out the reality/truth - but whether or not he'll let on - well, I guess we'll see.
Merry stinkin' Christmas to all my grinchy friends out there - and for those of you who love Christmas - enjoy it. I'll never quite get it.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
my kid is totally awesome sometimes
G has been having some struggles at school lately...and one of the ways he amazes me is related to that. He had a particularly rough week last week. He's been doing much better but was put in a couple of situations (purposely and accidentally) that tested the coping skills he's been working on improving.
Given that...we ran into his school social worker on our way into the amusing yet painful holiday concert this week. He grabbed us because he wanted to tell us a way in which G had surprised him. The previous Friday, at the end of his difficult week, G sought out the social worker - he found him in the hall on the way to a special of some sort and said "Mr. S - I'm having a tough week. I'd like to come see you." As it turns out, Mr. S had availability at lunchtime, so he offered to have lunch with G. They did and i guess they had a good long talk. But what Mr. S wanted us to know was that he's never had a 3rd grader ask for his time. 'The younger kids are sent to me - they don't ask for me. So G showing that kind of maturity....it's very unusual.'
I was pleasantly surprised and proud of him. He struggles to keep his emotions in check, but he's wise beyond his years in that he knows that's a challenge for him - so he is trying to work at it.
In a totally unrelated situation - we were sitting at home the other day when G made some sort of noise in reaction to something I said. I said "What did you say?"
"MOM - I stifled a laugh." (He said stifled as STIFF-uhld, not sty-fuld but still.)
"Honey, it's sty-fuld - but good job. How do you know that word/"
"Oh you know me, Mom. I read a lot."
I was reading on Babycenter.com (my Internet home for the last 9 years) the other day about when people think you really KNOW your kids and see them as individuals. For me, it started at around age 6 - but moments like this confirm to me that G is absolutely entrenched in his very own, startling cool, smart, funny, kind, and amazing personality.
WOW.
Given that...we ran into his school social worker on our way into the amusing yet painful holiday concert this week. He grabbed us because he wanted to tell us a way in which G had surprised him. The previous Friday, at the end of his difficult week, G sought out the social worker - he found him in the hall on the way to a special of some sort and said "Mr. S - I'm having a tough week. I'd like to come see you." As it turns out, Mr. S had availability at lunchtime, so he offered to have lunch with G. They did and i guess they had a good long talk. But what Mr. S wanted us to know was that he's never had a 3rd grader ask for his time. 'The younger kids are sent to me - they don't ask for me. So G showing that kind of maturity....it's very unusual.'
I was pleasantly surprised and proud of him. He struggles to keep his emotions in check, but he's wise beyond his years in that he knows that's a challenge for him - so he is trying to work at it.
In a totally unrelated situation - we were sitting at home the other day when G made some sort of noise in reaction to something I said. I said "What did you say?"
"MOM - I stifled a laugh." (He said stifled as STIFF-uhld, not sty-fuld but still.)
"Honey, it's sty-fuld - but good job. How do you know that word/"
"Oh you know me, Mom. I read a lot."
I was reading on Babycenter.com (my Internet home for the last 9 years) the other day about when people think you really KNOW your kids and see them as individuals. For me, it started at around age 6 - but moments like this confirm to me that G is absolutely entrenched in his very own, startling cool, smart, funny, kind, and amazing personality.
WOW.
they're back...they're back...
After a brief hiatus, the mean girls are back.
I was picked on as a kid. I started off in the small town "popular" crowd until a falling out with the ring leader in the second grade. From then on, I was a fringe kind of a girl. I went through a period of horrible teasing between fourth and seventh grade no thank to my particularly cruel fourth grade teacher, who coined an unpleasant nickname for me. The teasing finally subsided after that, and I found my groove as a reluctant quasi-leader of the oddballs, a collection of jocks and artsy types who rallied against the popular clique and - although I can only speak for myself - especially some high quality teenage angst wondering why we were so - well - perceived as so weird.
But luckily, I managed to avoid any cruelty thrust upon me. In retrospect, I think my isolation was a little self-imposed, and I survived relatively unscathed.
College was a breeze - there, I wasn't actually THAT nerdy (ah, the benefits of attending an Ivy League college) and I reinvented myself as a more self-confident version of that weird kid from high school.
I thought my days of worrying about bitches and bullies was long since past me by the time I hit my 30s.
I was wrong.
I've been dealing with a bully for the last - oh almost 18 months now. The reasons she's bullying me are, quite frankly, ridiculous childish crap. I understand that she has her own motivations and that perhaps, in her head, they allow her to rationalize what she's doing but the bottom line is - she's just a mean, nasty, and vindictive person.
The bullying actually started, really, 2+ years ago now, but it was so subtle that I just kind of let it go, assuming that she was reacting to me as many people do. Because I can be a bit shy at first, and because I'm allegedly smart and don't hide my smartness (whatever THAT means), I know a lot of people assume I'm a snob (I don't think I am). I find that because of that, I occasionally have people react to me in a standoffish way. So...I figured that was the issue.
Then the nastiness started. There were dirty looks and - well - sounds in the hall. Grunts. Pretty, right? But I have no patience for this shit, nor do I have the luxury of time or energy to deal with it. So I took the path of ignoring it. I figured it would go away, it was a bunch of ridiculous bullshit anyway.
It didn't, at least not for a while. It got worse, there were acts towards me that reeked of an intimidation attempt. Problem is, I'm not an awkward nerdy 14 year old anymore. She wasn't going to win. My path of least resistance, of ignoring that shit, continued.
Eventually, it worked - a little. Things seemed to calm down enough to where it was manageable. Don't get me wrong, I'd like to be able to walk to the bathroom without a dirty mushface look - but again, it isn't worth me going after her, even dealing with it.
In the last 3 weeks, the effort has revamped. There are now snide comments if I walk past.
Really? I'm 37 years old. I have a career I love and a family that drives me bonkers in a mostly good way. I have a busy, hectic life, and I turned my back on high school in 1991.
So why the hell am I subjected to this shit?
And furthermore...
...what kind of person behaves like that? I realize that I am no angel. I frustrate people and I've been told I intimidate people, and i sure as hell make plenty of mistakes. But as someone who was once teased, as someone who tries to spend the better part of her life being kind and compassionate - I simply can't imagine ever going out of my way to be cruel to someone.
I think that's the part that gets me the most. I've never done a damn thing to this person. At all. In fact, I've gone through periods of time where I've been pleasant to her.
And yet she goes out of her way to be nasty to me. And based on our latest interaction - she's quite proud of herself and gets some sort of pleasure in it.
Not only does that hurt me - it cuts me deeply and plagues me with my own self-doubt. that's the worst of it. I can't help but wonder if maybe i'm not as great as maybe I think I am. Maybe I am a bitch, maybe I am cold or snobby. Maybe I should look inside myself - maybe these names she's calling me are right on.
Thanks, mean girl, for rupturing what little self-esteem I have sometimes. I hope someday karma bites you in your flat ass. In the meantime, you've managed to shake me - so I guess you've won. I wish you and your gaggle of brainless followers would just leave me alone. At the end of the day, I really haven't done anything to you. I realize why you're mad, in your catty and nasty way - but none of that was me, and all of it is ancient history.
So please, let me be.
I was picked on as a kid. I started off in the small town "popular" crowd until a falling out with the ring leader in the second grade. From then on, I was a fringe kind of a girl. I went through a period of horrible teasing between fourth and seventh grade no thank to my particularly cruel fourth grade teacher, who coined an unpleasant nickname for me. The teasing finally subsided after that, and I found my groove as a reluctant quasi-leader of the oddballs, a collection of jocks and artsy types who rallied against the popular clique and - although I can only speak for myself - especially some high quality teenage angst wondering why we were so - well - perceived as so weird.
But luckily, I managed to avoid any cruelty thrust upon me. In retrospect, I think my isolation was a little self-imposed, and I survived relatively unscathed.
College was a breeze - there, I wasn't actually THAT nerdy (ah, the benefits of attending an Ivy League college) and I reinvented myself as a more self-confident version of that weird kid from high school.
I thought my days of worrying about bitches and bullies was long since past me by the time I hit my 30s.
I was wrong.
I've been dealing with a bully for the last - oh almost 18 months now. The reasons she's bullying me are, quite frankly, ridiculous childish crap. I understand that she has her own motivations and that perhaps, in her head, they allow her to rationalize what she's doing but the bottom line is - she's just a mean, nasty, and vindictive person.
The bullying actually started, really, 2+ years ago now, but it was so subtle that I just kind of let it go, assuming that she was reacting to me as many people do. Because I can be a bit shy at first, and because I'm allegedly smart and don't hide my smartness (whatever THAT means), I know a lot of people assume I'm a snob (I don't think I am). I find that because of that, I occasionally have people react to me in a standoffish way. So...I figured that was the issue.
Then the nastiness started. There were dirty looks and - well - sounds in the hall. Grunts. Pretty, right? But I have no patience for this shit, nor do I have the luxury of time or energy to deal with it. So I took the path of ignoring it. I figured it would go away, it was a bunch of ridiculous bullshit anyway.
It didn't, at least not for a while. It got worse, there were acts towards me that reeked of an intimidation attempt. Problem is, I'm not an awkward nerdy 14 year old anymore. She wasn't going to win. My path of least resistance, of ignoring that shit, continued.
Eventually, it worked - a little. Things seemed to calm down enough to where it was manageable. Don't get me wrong, I'd like to be able to walk to the bathroom without a dirty mushface look - but again, it isn't worth me going after her, even dealing with it.
In the last 3 weeks, the effort has revamped. There are now snide comments if I walk past.
Really? I'm 37 years old. I have a career I love and a family that drives me bonkers in a mostly good way. I have a busy, hectic life, and I turned my back on high school in 1991.
So why the hell am I subjected to this shit?
And furthermore...
...what kind of person behaves like that? I realize that I am no angel. I frustrate people and I've been told I intimidate people, and i sure as hell make plenty of mistakes. But as someone who was once teased, as someone who tries to spend the better part of her life being kind and compassionate - I simply can't imagine ever going out of my way to be cruel to someone.
I think that's the part that gets me the most. I've never done a damn thing to this person. At all. In fact, I've gone through periods of time where I've been pleasant to her.
And yet she goes out of her way to be nasty to me. And based on our latest interaction - she's quite proud of herself and gets some sort of pleasure in it.
Not only does that hurt me - it cuts me deeply and plagues me with my own self-doubt. that's the worst of it. I can't help but wonder if maybe i'm not as great as maybe I think I am. Maybe I am a bitch, maybe I am cold or snobby. Maybe I should look inside myself - maybe these names she's calling me are right on.
Thanks, mean girl, for rupturing what little self-esteem I have sometimes. I hope someday karma bites you in your flat ass. In the meantime, you've managed to shake me - so I guess you've won. I wish you and your gaggle of brainless followers would just leave me alone. At the end of the day, I really haven't done anything to you. I realize why you're mad, in your catty and nasty way - but none of that was me, and all of it is ancient history.
So please, let me be.
Friday, December 3, 2010
is lonely a new theme?
I was overcome with a sense of loneliness again today. It hit my like a sharp wind you didn't hear until it blew your hair across your face and in your ear. I wasn't doing anything special - in fact, I was at work, surrounded by people, running down the hall to do something last minute before I got the hell out of there.
I felt almost punched by it. But there it was. I realized in that instant that I wasn't really the cranky I'd told people I was all day. I was deeply, sadly, horribly lonely.
And I thought, in that instance, that there wasn't any one reason for it. There for millions - little things like a hurtful snip made at my yesterday; big things like confusing and complicated relationships; insurmountable things like a problem that isn't going away and doesn't appear to be fixable.
I need to address this loneliness, though, because it feels so incredibly isolating. As lonely as I feel, I only sometimes desire company. In that moment, when I realized how lonely I was, I didn't want to go talk to my collegue about this 11th hour crap we needed to finish. I didn't want to go home to the kid I love so much. I didn't want to meet a friend for drinks.
I wanted to sit in my car and BE lonely. And cry a little and wonder where the hell I'm going. How I'm going to fix this.
I felt almost punched by it. But there it was. I realized in that instant that I wasn't really the cranky I'd told people I was all day. I was deeply, sadly, horribly lonely.
And I thought, in that instance, that there wasn't any one reason for it. There for millions - little things like a hurtful snip made at my yesterday; big things like confusing and complicated relationships; insurmountable things like a problem that isn't going away and doesn't appear to be fixable.
I need to address this loneliness, though, because it feels so incredibly isolating. As lonely as I feel, I only sometimes desire company. In that moment, when I realized how lonely I was, I didn't want to go talk to my collegue about this 11th hour crap we needed to finish. I didn't want to go home to the kid I love so much. I didn't want to meet a friend for drinks.
I wanted to sit in my car and BE lonely. And cry a little and wonder where the hell I'm going. How I'm going to fix this.
one word
One word
Can make your knees buckle
One word
Your heart will race
One word
You life will change forever
What you say
Can mean
Even more
Than what you do
They say words are just words
Sometimes, yes
But often, no
It's muttered under a breath
It's said in supposed jest
It's blurted out without forethought
Or consideration of feelings
It's delivered slowly and sadly
Knowing its weight
Knowing it will mean
That the face of life will forever be changed.
It jabs like a knife
It sings
It causes an ache so deep
You want to run and hide.
That word - you don't react
Or you can't react
You cry, you gasp, you become
a ball of fury.
Do you use your own word
as a retaliation?
Do you turn around and deliver
your own blow?
You may want to
But can you?
What's the response?
How do you adjust, absorb, forgive, go on?
Can make your knees buckle
One word
Your heart will race
One word
You life will change forever
What you say
Can mean
Even more
Than what you do
They say words are just words
Sometimes, yes
But often, no
It's muttered under a breath
It's said in supposed jest
It's blurted out without forethought
Or consideration of feelings
It's delivered slowly and sadly
Knowing its weight
Knowing it will mean
That the face of life will forever be changed.
It jabs like a knife
It sings
It causes an ache so deep
You want to run and hide.
That word - you don't react
Or you can't react
You cry, you gasp, you become
a ball of fury.
Do you use your own word
as a retaliation?
Do you turn around and deliver
your own blow?
You may want to
But can you?
What's the response?
How do you adjust, absorb, forgive, go on?
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
one down, 2 or 3 to go
The first in the charming series of craptastic, guilt-riddled, bullshit events the average person refers to as the winter holidays is over. You'll note that I took 2 days off of work in part to recuperate from the typical level of crap that was involved in the "celebration". I'm spent. Now I get to look forward to a birthday with a black cloud, Christmas of overindulgence, and New Years of uncertain plans. Yay.
As I mentioned, my last 2 days were work-free for recuperation purposes. There is some odd irony in that, by the end of today, I was feeling keyed up and anxious. Days off leave me feeling a little off-kilter, maybe because they are pretty rare for me, and days off alone, like the last 2 were, are a once or twice a year event.
I am obviously a thinking, an introspective person who's constantly challenging herself to look at things from different angles, which results in almost immediate overthinking of situations.
A day off is no different.
Yesterday was fine. I got up and got G off to school, came home and took my time - leisurely - getting myself ready for my day. I went out for some retail therapy and spent the rest of the afternoon doing a whole boatload of absolutely nothing except eating far too much of G's Halloween candy.
Side note - retail therapy is a double-edged sword for me. Now that I am older (not wiser) and I have an adult woman's body, I've found a few stores where the clothing really works for me. Of course, these stores aren't cheap, but then again, their clothes don't shrink after the first wash. I enjoy going to them - I especially enjoyed visiting the one I went to on Monday since, in celebration of Cyber Monday, they had 40% off everything in store (how lovely). This store happens to have sizes that run a bit big, which means my normally size 6 self is a size 4 in some of their styles. How enjoyable - I haven't been a 4 since high school. I really thoroughly basked in the glow of trying on pants that fit not only my ass but also my waist (as a size 6 with a big ass, I tend to get about 3 inches of "gap" when I try on pants -fun fun even with a low-rider thong).
BUT - I also hate to spend money. I hate it. It gives me serious anxiety. So there I was, weilding my 40% off coupon, doing the math as to the discounted price in my head, trying to determine whether or not I really *should* spend $27 on a sweater.
I hate that. UGH.
But I digress - that minor stress, which I overcame by splitting the difference and buying a few good pieces, but not the whole load of crap I brought into the dressing room on my 2 trips (LOL), isn't the point.
The point is today. Today, I had nothing planned. Due to my feeling miserly after yesterday's shopping, I wasn't setting foot inside a store, and the purchases I made online were for Gregg for Christmas (and pre-planned).
Ah...so my time was 100% mine, big ass firmly planted in MY spot on MY couch.
Except my head...oh here it goes.
I got thinking about how weird it was to be at home during the day on a workday. There is something oddly unsettling about it. I mean, I know I'm employed but, let's face it, the economy sucks it. It's scary. I feel like I'm forever holding my breath. I've been through layoffs - at 5 and then 7 months pregnant noless - and I don't want to go down that road again. I am watching friends go through that hell now.
So I started thinking about it, and worrying about it, and wondering what the hell I'd do. It scared me and, frankly, I ruined my last 3 free hours thinking about it.
Why I do this to myself I'll never know but let me say this - being a thinker - it definitely has its drawbacks.
So now I have Tuesday night dread - but at least I'm going back to a job tomorrow. I have to remember that that makes me blessed. In light of some things that went on this holiday, some news we got - I need that to be my mantra. I am blessed.
As I mentioned, my last 2 days were work-free for recuperation purposes. There is some odd irony in that, by the end of today, I was feeling keyed up and anxious. Days off leave me feeling a little off-kilter, maybe because they are pretty rare for me, and days off alone, like the last 2 were, are a once or twice a year event.
I am obviously a thinking, an introspective person who's constantly challenging herself to look at things from different angles, which results in almost immediate overthinking of situations.
A day off is no different.
Yesterday was fine. I got up and got G off to school, came home and took my time - leisurely - getting myself ready for my day. I went out for some retail therapy and spent the rest of the afternoon doing a whole boatload of absolutely nothing except eating far too much of G's Halloween candy.
Side note - retail therapy is a double-edged sword for me. Now that I am older (not wiser) and I have an adult woman's body, I've found a few stores where the clothing really works for me. Of course, these stores aren't cheap, but then again, their clothes don't shrink after the first wash. I enjoy going to them - I especially enjoyed visiting the one I went to on Monday since, in celebration of Cyber Monday, they had 40% off everything in store (how lovely). This store happens to have sizes that run a bit big, which means my normally size 6 self is a size 4 in some of their styles. How enjoyable - I haven't been a 4 since high school. I really thoroughly basked in the glow of trying on pants that fit not only my ass but also my waist (as a size 6 with a big ass, I tend to get about 3 inches of "gap" when I try on pants -fun fun even with a low-rider thong).
BUT - I also hate to spend money. I hate it. It gives me serious anxiety. So there I was, weilding my 40% off coupon, doing the math as to the discounted price in my head, trying to determine whether or not I really *should* spend $27 on a sweater.
I hate that. UGH.
But I digress - that minor stress, which I overcame by splitting the difference and buying a few good pieces, but not the whole load of crap I brought into the dressing room on my 2 trips (LOL), isn't the point.
The point is today. Today, I had nothing planned. Due to my feeling miserly after yesterday's shopping, I wasn't setting foot inside a store, and the purchases I made online were for Gregg for Christmas (and pre-planned).
Ah...so my time was 100% mine, big ass firmly planted in MY spot on MY couch.
Except my head...oh here it goes.
I got thinking about how weird it was to be at home during the day on a workday. There is something oddly unsettling about it. I mean, I know I'm employed but, let's face it, the economy sucks it. It's scary. I feel like I'm forever holding my breath. I've been through layoffs - at 5 and then 7 months pregnant noless - and I don't want to go down that road again. I am watching friends go through that hell now.
So I started thinking about it, and worrying about it, and wondering what the hell I'd do. It scared me and, frankly, I ruined my last 3 free hours thinking about it.
Why I do this to myself I'll never know but let me say this - being a thinker - it definitely has its drawbacks.
So now I have Tuesday night dread - but at least I'm going back to a job tomorrow. I have to remember that that makes me blessed. In light of some things that went on this holiday, some news we got - I need that to be my mantra. I am blessed.
Monday, November 22, 2010
and another happy holiday season begins
My patience with the holiday bullshit is wearing very very thin.
I'm old. I'm almost 37 no thanks to a looming holiday that is, cursedly, smack dab in the middle of said holiday bullshit. I want to spend my holiday not working, with my immediately family, and with people I like. I don't want to deal with guilt, or crap, or fair, or any other such nonsense.
Period.
It never fucking happens.
I vowed that this year would be different. This year it would work itself out with some help and gentle pushing from me.
I was wrong.
Fan-fucking-tabulous. ARGH.
I'm old. I'm almost 37 no thanks to a looming holiday that is, cursedly, smack dab in the middle of said holiday bullshit. I want to spend my holiday not working, with my immediately family, and with people I like. I don't want to deal with guilt, or crap, or fair, or any other such nonsense.
Period.
It never fucking happens.
I vowed that this year would be different. This year it would work itself out with some help and gentle pushing from me.
I was wrong.
Fan-fucking-tabulous. ARGH.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
a little mostly proud Mom moment
Parent/teacher conference time is always an interesting time in our household. My son is an amazing kid. (Ah...don't I sound like a typical Mom!) He's very academically inclined and super competitive, so doing well in school comes pretty naturally for him and his smart peers keep him pushing himself to do well. He's actually verbally gifted, reading (several/many) grade levels ahead of where he should be. But his brains make him a bit challenging. He thinks he's an adult and, as such, he has a tendency to speak to some adults as if they were his peers - i.e. in a condescending, smart alec kind of a way.
Needless to say, we often have our first conversation with his teacher each year not at the P/T conference in November, but by the second week of October. This year was no exception. HOWEVER, this year, it was handled differently. Being a 3rd grader now, his time of free passes and stupid behavioral charts is over. Thank goodness. We promptly put an action plan in place, one that would be structured and organized and would have HIM, not a chart, accountable for his behavior, whether it be disruptive or silly or rude. After we laid out the plan, we talked to him about it, as did his counselor at the school.
It's been about a month and, with 2 exceptions, he's come home and told us he had good days. He let us know the 2 issues he had, one of which was very minor - and he was so proud of his good days - as were we. But, of course, he's 8 - so we took this all with a grain of salt.
So today, when we went in to talk to his teacher and counselor, we were pleased to say that his reports were generally pretty accurate. Both his counselor and teacher see a marked improvement. They both indicated that he is very VERY motivated to improve his behavior, and recognizes that that is where he has room to put forth good effort and grow.
Throw in the straight As PLUS and A+ and I am one proud Mom.
That whole conversation was one of those that reminded me that, as much as I think of G as my "baby", so to speak, he's no baby. He is his own person, with his own motivations and his own personality and his own strengths and weaknesses. I can help him to work through his challenges but I can't force him to do a damn thing. He needs to want it and work at it. And I need to encourage it and model the same behavior.
It also reminded me that how I act, what I do, and who I am - he's always watching and learning from me.
This parenting thing - it sure as hell isn't easy. At least not to me it isn't. But moments like these certainly make it rewarding and underscore why it truly is worth it, no matter how hard it can be.
Needless to say, we often have our first conversation with his teacher each year not at the P/T conference in November, but by the second week of October. This year was no exception. HOWEVER, this year, it was handled differently. Being a 3rd grader now, his time of free passes and stupid behavioral charts is over. Thank goodness. We promptly put an action plan in place, one that would be structured and organized and would have HIM, not a chart, accountable for his behavior, whether it be disruptive or silly or rude. After we laid out the plan, we talked to him about it, as did his counselor at the school.
It's been about a month and, with 2 exceptions, he's come home and told us he had good days. He let us know the 2 issues he had, one of which was very minor - and he was so proud of his good days - as were we. But, of course, he's 8 - so we took this all with a grain of salt.
So today, when we went in to talk to his teacher and counselor, we were pleased to say that his reports were generally pretty accurate. Both his counselor and teacher see a marked improvement. They both indicated that he is very VERY motivated to improve his behavior, and recognizes that that is where he has room to put forth good effort and grow.
Throw in the straight As PLUS and A+ and I am one proud Mom.
That whole conversation was one of those that reminded me that, as much as I think of G as my "baby", so to speak, he's no baby. He is his own person, with his own motivations and his own personality and his own strengths and weaknesses. I can help him to work through his challenges but I can't force him to do a damn thing. He needs to want it and work at it. And I need to encourage it and model the same behavior.
It also reminded me that how I act, what I do, and who I am - he's always watching and learning from me.
This parenting thing - it sure as hell isn't easy. At least not to me it isn't. But moments like these certainly make it rewarding and underscore why it truly is worth it, no matter how hard it can be.
Friday, November 12, 2010
a writer inside me?
I've had two different people recently - i.e. this week - comment to me about my writing abilities, or at the very least, my story telling abilities.
On Monday night, I saw my shrink for my bi-weekly visit. I had a lot to say. It's been a hell of a time lately, what with my sister's wedding and the various dramas and chaos that surrounded that, plus a whole of other bullshit inflicted upon me in part due to my own personal stupidity. I was full-on verbal ramblings for the first 45 minutes of my session - we had a brief actual conversation for the last 5 so, while cathartic, the session was not particularly productive in terms of me getting any sort of direction on how to fumble through this thing that my life has somehow become.
On my way out, he said to me "A - you should write a blog. You need to tell these stories. Not only will it allow you to get them out, but the way you tell them is funny. I know the actual crap you have to deal with isn't funny on the surface, but the way you tell me about it is hysterical. You'd have thousands of readers."
I was totally flattered and told him I DO have a blog but, alas, at this time, some of those stories have to remain in my (private, locked down) journaal. Wrong audience here.
Of course, I am tempted to create an anonymous blog, just to test his theory!!!
In a totally unrelated situation, I had written a sort of "story" for a friend at work today. It's really just my way of releasing stress about a co-worker who drives us crazy. I try to make these stories mysterious and vague enough that, if anyone else were to see it, they'd have to at least think hard to figure out who I was talking about, but also funny or tongue-in-cheek.
I was on a roll this afternoon. I was tired (AM tired) and overworked and at my wit's end, so there I went. Totally unsolicited, after "publishing" a teaser on my latest story (I write them slowly, over a period of days, and provide my readers with "installments"), my one reader told me I was a great writer. WHAT?
Wait - WHAT?
I'm a math nerd.
I'm a former programmer.
I do things that are logical well - that's why I quilt and knit - math.
Writing is purely creative. And this compliment came from one of the most creative people I know. It was genuine.
And I'm still fucking floored by it. I wonder - but it's inspired me (OBVIOUSLY) to get back to my blogging more regularly. Now let's see - like my trip to the gym FINALLY this week - if I can keep this up.
On Monday night, I saw my shrink for my bi-weekly visit. I had a lot to say. It's been a hell of a time lately, what with my sister's wedding and the various dramas and chaos that surrounded that, plus a whole of other bullshit inflicted upon me in part due to my own personal stupidity. I was full-on verbal ramblings for the first 45 minutes of my session - we had a brief actual conversation for the last 5 so, while cathartic, the session was not particularly productive in terms of me getting any sort of direction on how to fumble through this thing that my life has somehow become.
On my way out, he said to me "A - you should write a blog. You need to tell these stories. Not only will it allow you to get them out, but the way you tell them is funny. I know the actual crap you have to deal with isn't funny on the surface, but the way you tell me about it is hysterical. You'd have thousands of readers."
I was totally flattered and told him I DO have a blog but, alas, at this time, some of those stories have to remain in my (private, locked down) journaal. Wrong audience here.
Of course, I am tempted to create an anonymous blog, just to test his theory!!!
In a totally unrelated situation, I had written a sort of "story" for a friend at work today. It's really just my way of releasing stress about a co-worker who drives us crazy. I try to make these stories mysterious and vague enough that, if anyone else were to see it, they'd have to at least think hard to figure out who I was talking about, but also funny or tongue-in-cheek.
I was on a roll this afternoon. I was tired (AM tired) and overworked and at my wit's end, so there I went. Totally unsolicited, after "publishing" a teaser on my latest story (I write them slowly, over a period of days, and provide my readers with "installments"), my one reader told me I was a great writer. WHAT?
Wait - WHAT?
I'm a math nerd.
I'm a former programmer.
I do things that are logical well - that's why I quilt and knit - math.
Writing is purely creative. And this compliment came from one of the most creative people I know. It was genuine.
And I'm still fucking floored by it. I wonder - but it's inspired me (OBVIOUSLY) to get back to my blogging more regularly. Now let's see - like my trip to the gym FINALLY this week - if I can keep this up.
unrelated side note about rudeness across the generations
While I'm on a roll (or not - LOL)...
I go and get my lunch every Friday at the same place. It's a small market / grocery store close to my office and they make some kick-ass (although too meat-laden unless you remember to order the junior size) sandwiches.
And every Friday when I am there - generally between 12:15 and 12:45 no thanks to my horrific meeting schedule - I marvel at the retirees who are there doing their weekly grocery shopping at that time. Here's the thing. This is a freakin' store that's known across that small town for its sandwiches. The only other sandwich shop in the area in Subway and, while I love Subway myself, you can't eat that stuff every day! So come on - grocery shop at 10:30 or 1:30. But 12:35????
To add insult to injury, in addition to my marveling at these people putting themselves through waiting in a line of 14 corporate suits needing sandwiches asap, I marvel more at those grocery shoppers who decide they shouldn't have to wait in line - and therefore don't.
You read that right. 65-ish year old men and women cutting in line because they need their 8 slices of olive loaf and you bet your ass they won't wait for my slightly out of shape 36 year old body to get her turkey and cheddar on pumpernickel. This happens to me - EASY - at least once a month, which is quite the statistic if you think about it - I only go there 4 or 5 times a month.
I am flabberghasted by these people. They will blantantly ignore the line of people waiting - which lines up the same way every.fucking.day and go to the other end of the deli counter and attempt to place their order.
The last person to (try to) do this to me was a small old man, 75-ish and a good 5 inches shorter than my 5'8" i.e. nearly 6' in my heels self.
He sidled up to me - bypassing the entire line by the way - and started ordering from the young kid who was attempting to help me. And you guessed it, he wanted an eighth (REALLY) of a pound of the cheapest, grayest looking ham they had. Give me a fucking break buddy. I don't give a rat's ass how old you are or how busy you are, I'm fucking next in line. The poor kid trying to wait on me looked perplexed but, to his credit, said "I'm sorry sir, but this woman has been waiting - the line is there" and pointed. Said old man actually continued ordering - are you fucking kidding me - so I shrugged and just said "Go ahead".
There is some irony in this. I have had people of the generation prior to me - and I am of the so-called Gen X - refer to my generation as selfish and rude and spoiled - and we sure as hell are. But uhm...the sense of entitlement rolls across generations...I don't think it's generation-specific, in fact; I think it's personality-specific.
So to that short-ass little man - you are fucking rude you jackass. How about you buy your fucking gray ham NOT during our lunch hour next time, so that the deli counter will have no line, and you won't come off as a rude prick by cutting 12 people in line. Jackass.
I go and get my lunch every Friday at the same place. It's a small market / grocery store close to my office and they make some kick-ass (although too meat-laden unless you remember to order the junior size) sandwiches.
And every Friday when I am there - generally between 12:15 and 12:45 no thanks to my horrific meeting schedule - I marvel at the retirees who are there doing their weekly grocery shopping at that time. Here's the thing. This is a freakin' store that's known across that small town for its sandwiches. The only other sandwich shop in the area in Subway and, while I love Subway myself, you can't eat that stuff every day! So come on - grocery shop at 10:30 or 1:30. But 12:35????
To add insult to injury, in addition to my marveling at these people putting themselves through waiting in a line of 14 corporate suits needing sandwiches asap, I marvel more at those grocery shoppers who decide they shouldn't have to wait in line - and therefore don't.
You read that right. 65-ish year old men and women cutting in line because they need their 8 slices of olive loaf and you bet your ass they won't wait for my slightly out of shape 36 year old body to get her turkey and cheddar on pumpernickel. This happens to me - EASY - at least once a month, which is quite the statistic if you think about it - I only go there 4 or 5 times a month.
I am flabberghasted by these people. They will blantantly ignore the line of people waiting - which lines up the same way every.fucking.day and go to the other end of the deli counter and attempt to place their order.
The last person to (try to) do this to me was a small old man, 75-ish and a good 5 inches shorter than my 5'8" i.e. nearly 6' in my heels self.
He sidled up to me - bypassing the entire line by the way - and started ordering from the young kid who was attempting to help me. And you guessed it, he wanted an eighth (REALLY) of a pound of the cheapest, grayest looking ham they had. Give me a fucking break buddy. I don't give a rat's ass how old you are or how busy you are, I'm fucking next in line. The poor kid trying to wait on me looked perplexed but, to his credit, said "I'm sorry sir, but this woman has been waiting - the line is there" and pointed. Said old man actually continued ordering - are you fucking kidding me - so I shrugged and just said "Go ahead".
There is some irony in this. I have had people of the generation prior to me - and I am of the so-called Gen X - refer to my generation as selfish and rude and spoiled - and we sure as hell are. But uhm...the sense of entitlement rolls across generations...I don't think it's generation-specific, in fact; I think it's personality-specific.
So to that short-ass little man - you are fucking rude you jackass. How about you buy your fucking gray ham NOT during our lunch hour next time, so that the deli counter will have no line, and you won't come off as a rude prick by cutting 12 people in line. Jackass.
it's a contradiction
November in Connecticut isn't exactly nice most of the time. Sometimes it snows, which is fine (although annoying because despite that being a good possibility, we're never ready for it). Sometimes it's rainy and cold and wet and nasty - mostly it seems some years. And then, because it's New England, there are those one or two shiny, sunny, 60 degree days. You hope they fall on an idle Saturday - and usually, they don't.
Today was a beautiful late fall day - a meeting-laden, stress-filled, exhausting busy work Friday. G shared a nice, although somewhat fast-moving (at least for him) cold, so I felt like shit from the moment I got in the office. I had an 8:30, 8:45, 9:30, 10:30, and an 11 - and I had testing I had to sign off on by noon that I hadn't started. You get the picture. I got in at 8:05 to an "emergency" call and there it went.
By the time 12:30 rolled around, I was sort of hungry, cranky, a little frustrated with my work and personal life, and needed a breather. Luckily, I never bring lunch on Friday (when our refrigerator looks like it was just delivered with some complimentary bottled water and wine - LOL) - so I had to get the hell out of that building.
I was surprised when I walked out of the building (my office is in the basement, which is exposed on one side, although not within my sight line unless I turn around) and not only was it not freezing cold, it was pleasantly warm (mid 50s) and so sunny I needed my sunglasses. It was wonderful.
After passing through the seat belt check point not subtley placed about 500 feet from our office - twice - I decided I would not work while shoving my sandwich down my throat. It was too nice to go inside - and I needed some time alone to shake the cobwebs out of my head.
I sat quietly at the picnic table with my sandwich and my thoughts. It was weird - for the millionth time in the recent past portion of my adult life, I thought about loneliness and the irony of loneliness.
I am a wife and a mother and a daughter and a big sister and an employee and a collegue and a friend. I am surrounded by people a good portion of my day. I have more friends now that I had as a child and especially as a teenager, and they are, to a person, great and amazing and supportive people.
So how come I feel lonely so much?
People equate loneliness to be alone. As the mother of an only child (by my choice - and his father's resignation I guess), I get a lot of crap that G will be or is lonely because he's alone.
But the thing is, not being alone doesn't insulate you from loneliness.
I remember being lonely as a child - and I had two siblings (sometimes much to my chagrin and no, that's no secret to them - I don't feel that way now) to play with all the time. But they were almost Irish twins and great friends - and I was an introverted, weird, nerdy kid who - in retrospect - isolated herself in some ways due to rampant insecurity and unhappiness. So even then, I was never alone (how could I be sharing that small room with my sister) and often lonely.
There I sat, at that picnic table - alone - and I was reminded that while I felt a little lonely there, I also had felt lonely in the office. I'm not lonely all the time, but it definitely ebbs and flows, and today was an oddly lonely day. I think I was in a self-pitying kind of mood because I didn't feel well, and because a few things had happened that morning that reminded me of a problem in my personal life that's long-standing, and just isn't fixable, and is making me feel frustrated, sad, and is isolating.
It was just one of those introspective moments where I was reminded that - like I said - loneliness isn't the same as alone. You can be in a crowded room with 100 of your friends and be lonely - it certainly happens to me.
Today was a beautiful late fall day - a meeting-laden, stress-filled, exhausting busy work Friday. G shared a nice, although somewhat fast-moving (at least for him) cold, so I felt like shit from the moment I got in the office. I had an 8:30, 8:45, 9:30, 10:30, and an 11 - and I had testing I had to sign off on by noon that I hadn't started. You get the picture. I got in at 8:05 to an "emergency" call and there it went.
By the time 12:30 rolled around, I was sort of hungry, cranky, a little frustrated with my work and personal life, and needed a breather. Luckily, I never bring lunch on Friday (when our refrigerator looks like it was just delivered with some complimentary bottled water and wine - LOL) - so I had to get the hell out of that building.
I was surprised when I walked out of the building (my office is in the basement, which is exposed on one side, although not within my sight line unless I turn around) and not only was it not freezing cold, it was pleasantly warm (mid 50s) and so sunny I needed my sunglasses. It was wonderful.
After passing through the seat belt check point not subtley placed about 500 feet from our office - twice - I decided I would not work while shoving my sandwich down my throat. It was too nice to go inside - and I needed some time alone to shake the cobwebs out of my head.
I sat quietly at the picnic table with my sandwich and my thoughts. It was weird - for the millionth time in the recent past portion of my adult life, I thought about loneliness and the irony of loneliness.
I am a wife and a mother and a daughter and a big sister and an employee and a collegue and a friend. I am surrounded by people a good portion of my day. I have more friends now that I had as a child and especially as a teenager, and they are, to a person, great and amazing and supportive people.
So how come I feel lonely so much?
People equate loneliness to be alone. As the mother of an only child (by my choice - and his father's resignation I guess), I get a lot of crap that G will be or is lonely because he's alone.
But the thing is, not being alone doesn't insulate you from loneliness.
I remember being lonely as a child - and I had two siblings (sometimes much to my chagrin and no, that's no secret to them - I don't feel that way now) to play with all the time. But they were almost Irish twins and great friends - and I was an introverted, weird, nerdy kid who - in retrospect - isolated herself in some ways due to rampant insecurity and unhappiness. So even then, I was never alone (how could I be sharing that small room with my sister) and often lonely.
There I sat, at that picnic table - alone - and I was reminded that while I felt a little lonely there, I also had felt lonely in the office. I'm not lonely all the time, but it definitely ebbs and flows, and today was an oddly lonely day. I think I was in a self-pitying kind of mood because I didn't feel well, and because a few things had happened that morning that reminded me of a problem in my personal life that's long-standing, and just isn't fixable, and is making me feel frustrated, sad, and is isolating.
It was just one of those introspective moments where I was reminded that - like I said - loneliness isn't the same as alone. You can be in a crowded room with 100 of your friends and be lonely - it certainly happens to me.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
my eyes itch...
...and I can smell the sour, bitter, smoky and somehow mellow smell of chiminea smoke in my hair - which makes the eye scratchiness worth it - sort of.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
it's stuck in my head
I was having a deep and meaningful conversation with one of my very closest friends today about music. We were talking about music and I said something that apparently is perplexing to everyone but me. ;-) I said that I have problems with songs that I really like, that really tickle a spot in my brain and get me humming along from moment one. It's just a certain type of song that does this to me. At first it's fun - it gets stuck in my head and keeps me company all day long. Then it's annoying, because I find myself singing it all day long and it just won't go away. Then, if it really reaches the apex of badness - I can't even hear the first note to it on the radio without wanting to rip my ears off. LOL. Needless to say, this opinion didn't resonate with my friend, who apparently likes when songs get stuck in his head but nevertheless...hopefully I got my point across. ;-)
Oh yeah - the song in question was "Mary", from the new Kings of Leon song. I really liked the 50s style of the song when I first heard the album. I was listening to it today, though, and wouldn't you know it - the damn song is now stuck in my head and pissing me off. That may be its kiss of death - we'll see. It hasn't been relegated to "Life is a Highway" status - yet. Geez, even typing the title of THAT song irritates me.
In other news, my sister's wedding is D-O-N-E! She and her new husband are enjoying a rainy vacation in a faraway land and the days of panicked emails regarding the orange and brown candy bar or how many pumpkins are needed for the front porch of the inn. We don't have to worry about the crisis d'jour will be the morning of the wedding (averted nicely due to the large number of medical professionals attending the wedding). PHEW! If I'm so relieved it's over, I'm sure M and T are even moreso!
It was a beautiful wedding on a beautiful, albeit it (very) chilly fall day in NJ. Congrats to them and may their marriage be significantly less drama-filled than mine is. GAH!
In other drama-related news, fall soccer is almost over. The parent/kid game is Saturday. Apparently I'll be playing. Does no one realize that there are many MANY reasons why I ran track and cross country as a kid, not the least of which is my rampant clumsiness?!?! Let's hope I don't injury myself in any way - Gregg's endless injuries and resulting surgeries are definitely sufficient.
Wow, bored yet?
I'd love to wax philosophical but I think I'm too damn exhausted. I feel like I'm on a treadmill and can't get off - which would be great in a way because I haven't been in the gym in about 2.5 months. What a freakin' slacker!!
I guess all is ok in my world. I am in another bit of a pickle career-wise. I am currently being courted by my former boss and a former peer for a job at another company. I've basically been hand-picked for this position and they're waiting for me.
Sounds great, right?
Uhm...of course nothing is simple.
First and foremost - the job is a 50-55 min commute for me. If I were childless, that wouldn't be a big deal, after all, I did a 45 min commute for almost 8 years. But I have a kid, a kid I don't see all that much as it is. that just feels....far.
And second - and I hate to write this down for fear of sounding like a bitch - but I'd be working for my former peer. She and I were peers for 2 years up until I left that job for my current job (about 3.5 yrs ago). Now I'd be working for her. I guess that resonates with me and prickles me because it reminds me of the frustrations I have in my current position. Not to toot my own horn, but I'm damn good at my job. I lack confidence in many areas of my life but I know I'm good at what I do. Two years ago, I was assured a leadership role "just as soon" as they could implement it. Yet here we sit, 2 years later, and I have the same damn title I did then. Oh I have gotten some fuzzy and definitely unofficial extra responsibilities for sure - but with ZERO power. So people know I'm a leader but when a decision needs to be made, I can't do a fucking thing.
So I guess the idea of having this former peer as a boss just reminds me that I am in this quagmire.
The good news is it's got me moving a little bit. My boss is currently out on disability. We are trying to hire 3 new people - we've selected one but need to pick the 2 others. This responsbility is being shared by 3 of us, but one of ladies involved is, well, bossy, and our manager left her to sort of 'champion' this. FREAKIN' FABULOUS. Bossy, of course, is being territorial and talking to the VP (our boss's boss) without us - so we get all the info 2nd hand. After interviewing several people, she delivered the bomb that the 2 remaining slots are both temps. Uhm...helpful information we needed a while ago!! Then she doesn't agree with us on what type of person we should hire, and we don't have clear direction.
The other person helping with the hiring is really more on the periphery. She recommended someone before this whole temp thing came up - a friend and an internal candidate - and now she feels fucked over, so she's stepped mostly out. But I've asked to meet with Bossy and the VP and I kept getting shut out.
Well screw that. I reached out to the VP last night. I told her I was trying to understand where we were headed and I had some ideas I'd like to run by her. I indicated I wasn't trying to go behind Bossy's back but that when I'd asked to be involved, I'd be shut out and now I wasn't clear on what the path was.
She emailed me back and said she'd call -hopefully she does. I"m proud of myself for speaking up. I need to take control of my career. No one is going to do it for me - this VP has said she's looking out for me, she's told everyone in my reporting chain she has "plans" for me - yet I've seen none of that. Enough already. I can contribute more - not by getting more work (something I seem to be good at) but by doing something different, by leading, by effecting organizational change. I need someone to take a chance on me.
Hence my dilemma.
Gregg thinks I should apply for that job anyway. I would feel like a dick because the reality is, unless they made me an AMAZING offer, I couldn't do.
Shit.
Oh yeah - the song in question was "Mary", from the new Kings of Leon song. I really liked the 50s style of the song when I first heard the album. I was listening to it today, though, and wouldn't you know it - the damn song is now stuck in my head and pissing me off. That may be its kiss of death - we'll see. It hasn't been relegated to "Life is a Highway" status - yet. Geez, even typing the title of THAT song irritates me.
In other news, my sister's wedding is D-O-N-E! She and her new husband are enjoying a rainy vacation in a faraway land and the days of panicked emails regarding the orange and brown candy bar or how many pumpkins are needed for the front porch of the inn. We don't have to worry about the crisis d'jour will be the morning of the wedding (averted nicely due to the large number of medical professionals attending the wedding). PHEW! If I'm so relieved it's over, I'm sure M and T are even moreso!
It was a beautiful wedding on a beautiful, albeit it (very) chilly fall day in NJ. Congrats to them and may their marriage be significantly less drama-filled than mine is. GAH!
In other drama-related news, fall soccer is almost over. The parent/kid game is Saturday. Apparently I'll be playing. Does no one realize that there are many MANY reasons why I ran track and cross country as a kid, not the least of which is my rampant clumsiness?!?! Let's hope I don't injury myself in any way - Gregg's endless injuries and resulting surgeries are definitely sufficient.
Wow, bored yet?
I'd love to wax philosophical but I think I'm too damn exhausted. I feel like I'm on a treadmill and can't get off - which would be great in a way because I haven't been in the gym in about 2.5 months. What a freakin' slacker!!
I guess all is ok in my world. I am in another bit of a pickle career-wise. I am currently being courted by my former boss and a former peer for a job at another company. I've basically been hand-picked for this position and they're waiting for me.
Sounds great, right?
Uhm...of course nothing is simple.
First and foremost - the job is a 50-55 min commute for me. If I were childless, that wouldn't be a big deal, after all, I did a 45 min commute for almost 8 years. But I have a kid, a kid I don't see all that much as it is. that just feels....far.
And second - and I hate to write this down for fear of sounding like a bitch - but I'd be working for my former peer. She and I were peers for 2 years up until I left that job for my current job (about 3.5 yrs ago). Now I'd be working for her. I guess that resonates with me and prickles me because it reminds me of the frustrations I have in my current position. Not to toot my own horn, but I'm damn good at my job. I lack confidence in many areas of my life but I know I'm good at what I do. Two years ago, I was assured a leadership role "just as soon" as they could implement it. Yet here we sit, 2 years later, and I have the same damn title I did then. Oh I have gotten some fuzzy and definitely unofficial extra responsibilities for sure - but with ZERO power. So people know I'm a leader but when a decision needs to be made, I can't do a fucking thing.
So I guess the idea of having this former peer as a boss just reminds me that I am in this quagmire.
The good news is it's got me moving a little bit. My boss is currently out on disability. We are trying to hire 3 new people - we've selected one but need to pick the 2 others. This responsbility is being shared by 3 of us, but one of ladies involved is, well, bossy, and our manager left her to sort of 'champion' this. FREAKIN' FABULOUS. Bossy, of course, is being territorial and talking to the VP (our boss's boss) without us - so we get all the info 2nd hand. After interviewing several people, she delivered the bomb that the 2 remaining slots are both temps. Uhm...helpful information we needed a while ago!! Then she doesn't agree with us on what type of person we should hire, and we don't have clear direction.
The other person helping with the hiring is really more on the periphery. She recommended someone before this whole temp thing came up - a friend and an internal candidate - and now she feels fucked over, so she's stepped mostly out. But I've asked to meet with Bossy and the VP and I kept getting shut out.
Well screw that. I reached out to the VP last night. I told her I was trying to understand where we were headed and I had some ideas I'd like to run by her. I indicated I wasn't trying to go behind Bossy's back but that when I'd asked to be involved, I'd be shut out and now I wasn't clear on what the path was.
She emailed me back and said she'd call -hopefully she does. I"m proud of myself for speaking up. I need to take control of my career. No one is going to do it for me - this VP has said she's looking out for me, she's told everyone in my reporting chain she has "plans" for me - yet I've seen none of that. Enough already. I can contribute more - not by getting more work (something I seem to be good at) but by doing something different, by leading, by effecting organizational change. I need someone to take a chance on me.
Hence my dilemma.
Gregg thinks I should apply for that job anyway. I would feel like a dick because the reality is, unless they made me an AMAZING offer, I couldn't do.
Shit.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
I'm boring
It came to my attention recently that I am boring.
Actually, no one told me that - so I guess it was more of a revelation.
This isn't to say that I'm not an interesting person. I like to think I am multi-faceted and not exactly as I appear on the surface.
It's more that there isn't a lot of fireworks in my day-to-day life. This is not always the case but lately, life consists of work, kid, soccer, cub scouts, lather, rinse, repeat.
Oddly, this does not make my life boring - although when I give my longer distance friends "updates" on what's going on with me, it SOUNDS boring to my ears. The reality is, my day-to-day is pretty frenetic from about 6:15am until 8:30pm. After that, it quiets down some - and oddly, that's when I sometimes feel crushed and almost suffocated with confusion and my endlessly long list of things to do - thus rendering that quiet time not particularly peaceful. Phew. Case in point. It's 9:20pm and I am on the couch blogging. After that, I am going to knit and attempt to ignore the little voice in my head saying...
"You haven't started G's Halloween costume."
"You haven't scrapped since last spring and have to do almost a year's worth of pages."
"Your life insurance will hit the end of its guarantee period in a couple of years...get going."
"That will isn't going to rewrite itself."
"The first Cub Scout camp out is in a month...good thing it's tent-free because, while you have a sleeping bag, you have NO TENT."
"Isn't it almost time to start packing for the wedding?"
The mind of a Type A, OCD person is never, ever silent. I omitted my latest hypochondriac worries and, of course, my endless array of relationship concerns, confusions, and conundrums.
My hubby has suggested that meditation or yoga might quiet my ever-screeching mind. I wish. I can't meditate. I can't even turn the volume on those voices down quietly enough to sink into a meditative state. And I like yoga, despite being, quite possibly, the least coordinated person on the planet. I have 7 Namaste Yoga episodes on my DVR waiting for me. But alas...no time. I have no inclination to do yoga, or really move my ever-widening ass from the couch after 9pm. Hell, if I'm not getting up to deal with that life insurance issue, I'm sure as hell not moving to do yoga!
So here I sit, my mind cluttered and the theme song to "Hawaii 5-0" running through my head.
Oh yeah, I forgot that part. Not only is my brain cluttered with long to do lists and endless useless crap such as the introduction to Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales" in middle English (no, I'm not kidding) - at any given time, I have at least 1 and often 3 songs stuck in my head.
Tonight?
"Hawaii 5-0" theme song
Jason Walker - "Down" ***
*** Side note. I heard that song on Pandora tonight. I've heard it before and 'liked' it on Pandora, hence the reason I played it again. It's lovely. The version they play on Pandora is a duet with Molly Reed (not sure who the hell that is) who penned the song with Jason. I love the cadence and I love the lyrics. It's really beautiful. It somehow captures that feeling of being lost - that feeling we don't think we as adults are supposed to have, yet do. At least - I do.
So here I sit, my boring - but not really seemingly so - self with my cluttered mind, not-settled heart, and restless spirit. What was the point of this blog entry? I have no idea. Sorry!
Actually, no one told me that - so I guess it was more of a revelation.
This isn't to say that I'm not an interesting person. I like to think I am multi-faceted and not exactly as I appear on the surface.
It's more that there isn't a lot of fireworks in my day-to-day life. This is not always the case but lately, life consists of work, kid, soccer, cub scouts, lather, rinse, repeat.
Oddly, this does not make my life boring - although when I give my longer distance friends "updates" on what's going on with me, it SOUNDS boring to my ears. The reality is, my day-to-day is pretty frenetic from about 6:15am until 8:30pm. After that, it quiets down some - and oddly, that's when I sometimes feel crushed and almost suffocated with confusion and my endlessly long list of things to do - thus rendering that quiet time not particularly peaceful. Phew. Case in point. It's 9:20pm and I am on the couch blogging. After that, I am going to knit and attempt to ignore the little voice in my head saying...
"You haven't started G's Halloween costume."
"You haven't scrapped since last spring and have to do almost a year's worth of pages."
"Your life insurance will hit the end of its guarantee period in a couple of years...get going."
"That will isn't going to rewrite itself."
"The first Cub Scout camp out is in a month...good thing it's tent-free because, while you have a sleeping bag, you have NO TENT."
"Isn't it almost time to start packing for the wedding?"
The mind of a Type A, OCD person is never, ever silent. I omitted my latest hypochondriac worries and, of course, my endless array of relationship concerns, confusions, and conundrums.
My hubby has suggested that meditation or yoga might quiet my ever-screeching mind. I wish. I can't meditate. I can't even turn the volume on those voices down quietly enough to sink into a meditative state. And I like yoga, despite being, quite possibly, the least coordinated person on the planet. I have 7 Namaste Yoga episodes on my DVR waiting for me. But alas...no time. I have no inclination to do yoga, or really move my ever-widening ass from the couch after 9pm. Hell, if I'm not getting up to deal with that life insurance issue, I'm sure as hell not moving to do yoga!
So here I sit, my mind cluttered and the theme song to "Hawaii 5-0" running through my head.
Oh yeah, I forgot that part. Not only is my brain cluttered with long to do lists and endless useless crap such as the introduction to Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales" in middle English (no, I'm not kidding) - at any given time, I have at least 1 and often 3 songs stuck in my head.
Tonight?
"Hawaii 5-0" theme song
Jason Walker - "Down" ***
*** Side note. I heard that song on Pandora tonight. I've heard it before and 'liked' it on Pandora, hence the reason I played it again. It's lovely. The version they play on Pandora is a duet with Molly Reed (not sure who the hell that is) who penned the song with Jason. I love the cadence and I love the lyrics. It's really beautiful. It somehow captures that feeling of being lost - that feeling we don't think we as adults are supposed to have, yet do. At least - I do.
So here I sit, my boring - but not really seemingly so - self with my cluttered mind, not-settled heart, and restless spirit. What was the point of this blog entry? I have no idea. Sorry!
Friday, October 1, 2010
I have no decent title
Just some miscellaneous ramblings - so no good title for this one.
Today was a great example of how calling a doctor and making an appointment will cure you of what ails you. This happens to me so often that I'm beginning to wonder if I need to be properly treated for hypochondria.
For the last almost 2 weeks, on and off - my friggin jaw has been hurting - and by hurting I mean pain that radiated back to the joint, up the back of my ear, across my ear, and at points into my cheek. It was on and off but sufficiently bad enough that I went to the dentist late last week thinking I had a cavity. I don't. However, my dentist had me move my jaw a bit and said "WOAH", which I took as a very bad sign. He went on to tell me that I have "a pretty bad case of TMJ" - fabulous - and took a mold for a nightguard that I've needed for oh...20 years now...maybe more. He said that was the cause of the pain and voila, yelled at me for not coming in for 18 months and sent me on my way.
For a few days, the pain was much less pointed...until Monday now and back it came. Advil was barely touching it - although I found that Tylenol plus Pinot Grigio was helping - alas, not appropriate for work hours. ;-) By yesterday morning, I was over it. I figured I needed to get into my doctor to get some painkillers or have my jaw broken and reset or something. LOL.
Oddly, this is not a sufficient medical issue to warrant a same day appointment and, despite their insistence, I was not going in at 1:45pm today (REALLY???). I took the 4pm appointment and breathed.
And what do you know. As the day progressed, the pain lessened...and kept lessening so last night was Tylenol (although not Pinot)-free.
Same today.
So I cancelled my appointment.
My problem now - how long until it comes back? Ah...Andrea...such a pessimist.
We'll see. I hope it's gone for a while. Today was not exactly a banner day. Busy - understatement - at work, with some over email (of course) personal life issues going on - nothing hugely serious but the same old thing just the same.
I've been in a bit of funk lately, which is part of the reason for said issues and for my lack of appearance here. As I mentioned the other night - I'm not exactly sure I can put my finger on the problem.
I feel tired.
I feel old (UGH! Love birthday time of year...)
I feel worn down.
I feel taken for granted.
I feel second, like I am not really a priority.
I feel this sense of wonder about how people do it - maintain relationships, love, be loved back...how they risk it...how they throw themselves into it and time it just right.
I feel sort of like my life is a playbook and, while I'm in it, I'm just slightly off the mark.
Again, maybe this is a normal life crisis, maybe everyone feels this way. I'm not everyone. I'm me. And I know I feel this way.
I watch the people around me and I see them struggling too. I see too many people in the same tenuous, confusing situations and relationships, and I think that maybe, just maybe, they get it. But I also see a lot of them dealing with said situations in ways that seem better - or at least more manageable than they are for me - and I wonder.
I haven't even had my Pinot tonight and look at me waxing philosophical like a sorry self-pitying horse's ass. SIGH.
I don't know. I keep waiting for that "A HA!" moment - the moment where not only will I know who I am - hell, I know who I am, I've had THAT moment - but where I'll be happy WHERE I am.
On a light-hearted unrelated note...my boys were out on a hubby family visit after school/work today, so I of course just HAD to make a stop on my way home at Kohl's. Little did I know they were running one hell of a sale, so I came out of there for around $100 with several sweaters, a new purse, and one kick-ass pencil skirts. SIDE NOTE - Why are pencil skirts so ellusive? I love them. I have a big butt and a small waist. Crap. Those things were made for me. Yet for reasons I do not understand, they are far less prevalent than tulip skirts, which I hate with every single ounce of energy I possess. The only damn place that seems to carry them regularly is Banana Republic Outlet, and even then, I have to wait for them to go on clearance - that place is pricey.
I was happy with my purchases although there were several pairs of Candie's platforms that I would have liked to buy...but I just can't justify bright blue 3.5 inch platforms, no matter how much I'd like to.
LOL.
On another unrelated note - Hub is asleep and I am not watching TV, but it's on. "I Love the 90s - 1991" - the year of my high school graduation. They just featured the song "Rico Suave", which reminded me that as much as that song sucked in 1991, it sucks significantly more now. Between the shitty music and the lingering big ass hair, what the hell were we thinking???
Today was a great example of how calling a doctor and making an appointment will cure you of what ails you. This happens to me so often that I'm beginning to wonder if I need to be properly treated for hypochondria.
For the last almost 2 weeks, on and off - my friggin jaw has been hurting - and by hurting I mean pain that radiated back to the joint, up the back of my ear, across my ear, and at points into my cheek. It was on and off but sufficiently bad enough that I went to the dentist late last week thinking I had a cavity. I don't. However, my dentist had me move my jaw a bit and said "WOAH", which I took as a very bad sign. He went on to tell me that I have "a pretty bad case of TMJ" - fabulous - and took a mold for a nightguard that I've needed for oh...20 years now...maybe more. He said that was the cause of the pain and voila, yelled at me for not coming in for 18 months and sent me on my way.
For a few days, the pain was much less pointed...until Monday now and back it came. Advil was barely touching it - although I found that Tylenol plus Pinot Grigio was helping - alas, not appropriate for work hours. ;-) By yesterday morning, I was over it. I figured I needed to get into my doctor to get some painkillers or have my jaw broken and reset or something. LOL.
Oddly, this is not a sufficient medical issue to warrant a same day appointment and, despite their insistence, I was not going in at 1:45pm today (REALLY???). I took the 4pm appointment and breathed.
And what do you know. As the day progressed, the pain lessened...and kept lessening so last night was Tylenol (although not Pinot)-free.
Same today.
So I cancelled my appointment.
My problem now - how long until it comes back? Ah...Andrea...such a pessimist.
We'll see. I hope it's gone for a while. Today was not exactly a banner day. Busy - understatement - at work, with some over email (of course) personal life issues going on - nothing hugely serious but the same old thing just the same.
I've been in a bit of funk lately, which is part of the reason for said issues and for my lack of appearance here. As I mentioned the other night - I'm not exactly sure I can put my finger on the problem.
I feel tired.
I feel old (UGH! Love birthday time of year...)
I feel worn down.
I feel taken for granted.
I feel second, like I am not really a priority.
I feel this sense of wonder about how people do it - maintain relationships, love, be loved back...how they risk it...how they throw themselves into it and time it just right.
I feel sort of like my life is a playbook and, while I'm in it, I'm just slightly off the mark.
Again, maybe this is a normal life crisis, maybe everyone feels this way. I'm not everyone. I'm me. And I know I feel this way.
I watch the people around me and I see them struggling too. I see too many people in the same tenuous, confusing situations and relationships, and I think that maybe, just maybe, they get it. But I also see a lot of them dealing with said situations in ways that seem better - or at least more manageable than they are for me - and I wonder.
I haven't even had my Pinot tonight and look at me waxing philosophical like a sorry self-pitying horse's ass. SIGH.
I don't know. I keep waiting for that "A HA!" moment - the moment where not only will I know who I am - hell, I know who I am, I've had THAT moment - but where I'll be happy WHERE I am.
On a light-hearted unrelated note...my boys were out on a hubby family visit after school/work today, so I of course just HAD to make a stop on my way home at Kohl's. Little did I know they were running one hell of a sale, so I came out of there for around $100 with several sweaters, a new purse, and one kick-ass pencil skirts. SIDE NOTE - Why are pencil skirts so ellusive? I love them. I have a big butt and a small waist. Crap. Those things were made for me. Yet for reasons I do not understand, they are far less prevalent than tulip skirts, which I hate with every single ounce of energy I possess. The only damn place that seems to carry them regularly is Banana Republic Outlet, and even then, I have to wait for them to go on clearance - that place is pricey.
I was happy with my purchases although there were several pairs of Candie's platforms that I would have liked to buy...but I just can't justify bright blue 3.5 inch platforms, no matter how much I'd like to.
LOL.
On another unrelated note - Hub is asleep and I am not watching TV, but it's on. "I Love the 90s - 1991" - the year of my high school graduation. They just featured the song "Rico Suave", which reminded me that as much as that song sucked in 1991, it sucks significantly more now. Between the shitty music and the lingering big ass hair, what the hell were we thinking???
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
this and that - here and there
Finally an evening where I can sort of catch my breath.
I've said it several times in the last 6 weeks, but I have no idea how people with multiple children do it. I have ONE kid. Granted - he's spoiled. We let him do multiple activities and one of us is always with him at said activities. BUT - it's exhausting. Hubby has a bunch of his own activities - not the least of which is his endless working out, plus poker and Risk (don't ask), etc. etc.
I'm tired. I have not been feeling that great over the last couple of weeks - I'm currently hoarse as heck, have a nasty hacking dry cough, and a TMJ flare which I think may land me in my doctor's office soon. Add in the endless running and PHEW. Not that I'm complaining - I'm not. As I actually reminded myself - out loud - as I plunked myself into my car on my way home from work today, I'm lucky. I'm blessed. I have a good job and a healthy family.
So why am I - in addition to being exhausted - feeling like something is missing? I hate this. I have felt this way on and off for a long time, but lately it's been pretty bad. It's making me insane.
My husband thinks I am so pessimistic I can't see what I have. And maybe he's right.
But maybe he isn't. There's something inside of me that's restless and wondering what I'm missing. I have yet to be able to put my finger on it;. Maybe this is what a midlife crisis is?
In the meantime, this feeling lingers here and there. How I have time to even notice it most of the time is beyond me.
I think I'll bring this into my diary at this point, just because I feel like this blog entry sucks and is disjointed.
On a happier note, we recently had my sister's bridal shower. One of the things we did for her was make her a friendship wreath. My mom found the idea in a Victorian crafts book. I love the idea - I want to make a ribbon wreath like this for myself...eventually...
I've said it several times in the last 6 weeks, but I have no idea how people with multiple children do it. I have ONE kid. Granted - he's spoiled. We let him do multiple activities and one of us is always with him at said activities. BUT - it's exhausting. Hubby has a bunch of his own activities - not the least of which is his endless working out, plus poker and Risk (don't ask), etc. etc.
I'm tired. I have not been feeling that great over the last couple of weeks - I'm currently hoarse as heck, have a nasty hacking dry cough, and a TMJ flare which I think may land me in my doctor's office soon. Add in the endless running and PHEW. Not that I'm complaining - I'm not. As I actually reminded myself - out loud - as I plunked myself into my car on my way home from work today, I'm lucky. I'm blessed. I have a good job and a healthy family.
So why am I - in addition to being exhausted - feeling like something is missing? I hate this. I have felt this way on and off for a long time, but lately it's been pretty bad. It's making me insane.
My husband thinks I am so pessimistic I can't see what I have. And maybe he's right.
But maybe he isn't. There's something inside of me that's restless and wondering what I'm missing. I have yet to be able to put my finger on it;. Maybe this is what a midlife crisis is?
In the meantime, this feeling lingers here and there. How I have time to even notice it most of the time is beyond me.
I think I'll bring this into my diary at this point, just because I feel like this blog entry sucks and is disjointed.
On a happier note, we recently had my sister's bridal shower. One of the things we did for her was make her a friendship wreath. My mom found the idea in a Victorian crafts book. I love the idea - I want to make a ribbon wreath like this for myself...eventually...
Sunday, September 19, 2010
soccer brings knitting
As the coach's wife, I have the pleasure of generally getting to G's soccer games pretty early. And I admit, I am one of those moms who gets very nervous before the game, and then very INTO it once the game starts - like I can't sit still and I'm often hoarse by the end.
Now that soccer season is upon us and G is doing travel soccer, I have lots of nervous energy to burn off before the games. So I knit. It's worked out well so far. Here are 2 of my projects I've completed in the last couple of weeks.
Burlington hat: I love this pattern! It was in a knitting magazine - not too hard and lots of fun. I'm starting another one of these tonight.
This is another hat - this is just a pattern I made up - it's K6P2, so it's a nice chunky rib.
Now that soccer season is upon us and G is doing travel soccer, I have lots of nervous energy to burn off before the games. So I knit. It's worked out well so far. Here are 2 of my projects I've completed in the last couple of weeks.
Burlington hat: I love this pattern! It was in a knitting magazine - not too hard and lots of fun. I'm starting another one of these tonight.
This is another hat - this is just a pattern I made up - it's K6P2, so it's a nice chunky rib.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
wine
Not a banner day.
Too many meetings. A little confusion. A lot of chaos.
I tried to channel it in that latest shitastic poem! If only poems were math - I would kick ass.
Time for a glass of wine and to breathe. Albeit temporarily.
Too many meetings. A little confusion. A lot of chaos.
I tried to channel it in that latest shitastic poem! If only poems were math - I would kick ass.
Time for a glass of wine and to breathe. Albeit temporarily.
turned inside out
I think back and can feel
The warm summer sun
A sense of euphoria, of hope,
of endless possibilities.
I wanted to grow up.
Simple enough.
I had a plan.
I had many plans.
I was ready - ready to be me
I was going to love and learn
And succeed.
Along that path I went
Little by little the realization
That my life was not all under
My control
Hit me.
At first it was just a little poke
Some unfair situation
A circumstance I couldn't completely control
A disappointment that slowed me down.
But on I marched.
I was ready.
Success was only a few feet away
Hard work, dedication
It was right there
And alongside of it sat love
True love
Absolute love
Easy, simple, happiness
Wrong.
The house of cards I neatly stacked
It wasn't that a breeze rustled it
A hurricane came
And down it went
In the shambles of those cards
Was my well-planned for life
Nothing had ended
It just had been turned
Completely upside down.
I tried to rebuild it
Using the original pieces
After all, this was my life
The plans I laid
The foundation I built.
The glue, the braces, the ties
Some held for a while
Some crumbled from underneath
And down it came again.
All the while
As my rebuilding faltered
Life went on
Not nearly as planned as I hoped
In the shambles and ruins
There was sunshine and rain
Moments of sorrow and great joy
I missed some
Too busy trying to reconstruct
That which was not meant to be repaired.
The road of life stretched farther behind me
In the glimmer, a bit of happiness was there
I grabbed it
I needed it
I wanted it
I thought maybe I deserved it.
Life does not reconstruct itself
And that bit of happiness
It came with a consequence or three
And the sorrow and confusion
The attempts to rebuild and reconstruct
They worked here and there
But that old life, that hope and promise
It would never be the same.
Now I'm turned
inside out
Where do I go from here?
Do I keep rebuilding
And build the best I can?
Do I start over?
Do I split the difference?
Can I have what I need and what I want
And what I've worked so hard to get?
The warm summer sun
A sense of euphoria, of hope,
of endless possibilities.
I wanted to grow up.
Simple enough.
I had a plan.
I had many plans.
I was ready - ready to be me
I was going to love and learn
And succeed.
Along that path I went
Little by little the realization
That my life was not all under
My control
Hit me.
At first it was just a little poke
Some unfair situation
A circumstance I couldn't completely control
A disappointment that slowed me down.
But on I marched.
I was ready.
Success was only a few feet away
Hard work, dedication
It was right there
And alongside of it sat love
True love
Absolute love
Easy, simple, happiness
Wrong.
The house of cards I neatly stacked
It wasn't that a breeze rustled it
A hurricane came
And down it went
In the shambles of those cards
Was my well-planned for life
Nothing had ended
It just had been turned
Completely upside down.
I tried to rebuild it
Using the original pieces
After all, this was my life
The plans I laid
The foundation I built.
The glue, the braces, the ties
Some held for a while
Some crumbled from underneath
And down it came again.
All the while
As my rebuilding faltered
Life went on
Not nearly as planned as I hoped
In the shambles and ruins
There was sunshine and rain
Moments of sorrow and great joy
I missed some
Too busy trying to reconstruct
That which was not meant to be repaired.
The road of life stretched farther behind me
In the glimmer, a bit of happiness was there
I grabbed it
I needed it
I wanted it
I thought maybe I deserved it.
Life does not reconstruct itself
And that bit of happiness
It came with a consequence or three
And the sorrow and confusion
The attempts to rebuild and reconstruct
They worked here and there
But that old life, that hope and promise
It would never be the same.
Now I'm turned
inside out
Where do I go from here?
Do I keep rebuilding
And build the best I can?
Do I start over?
Do I split the difference?
Can I have what I need and what I want
And what I've worked so hard to get?
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
the ever-ellusive RSVP
My sister's wedding shower is next Saturday.
I sent out invites over a month in advance.
The RSVP date is absolutely no later than this Saturday.
And yet...of the 72 invites...21 RSVPs.
REALLY?
I realize people procrastinate. I know I do. But honestly. I fully expect to never hear from at least 30 people. Granted, there are a lot of out-of-state invitees, but you never can say for sure that just because someone lives XX miles away from the event location, they definitely won't come (or will come). But come on people - let's get our shit together and RSVP. I made it SO easy. You can call me. You can email me. If you prefer - because you're in my family - you can call my mom.
Email RSVPs are my favorite kind. No worries about calling during work or during dinner or after bedtime or before someone wakes up (like that's an issue for me - NOT). I threw everyone a huge bone!!
And while I'm griping about all things wedding - OMG - why oh why do weddings bring out the worst in people????
I won't elaborate too much but to me, a wedding is one of those circumstances where everyone should just behave and do all they can to celebrate the couple. And yet, it turns into a giant clusterfuck of one-upmanship and bullshit and weird rationalizations and all sorts of other crap.
I realize I have PTSD from my own horribly tragic wedding circumstances, and then the crappy circumstances of the "redo" so I try to keep my bitching to a minimum but - and I love ya T - I will be breathing a sigh of relief when this is over!! I am participating gladly and to the best of my ability and I want it to me an amazing day for M and T - but I also want to bitchslap about 10 people already - and we've got another 7 weeks to go. YIKES.
I sent out invites over a month in advance.
The RSVP date is absolutely no later than this Saturday.
And yet...of the 72 invites...21 RSVPs.
REALLY?
I realize people procrastinate. I know I do. But honestly. I fully expect to never hear from at least 30 people. Granted, there are a lot of out-of-state invitees, but you never can say for sure that just because someone lives XX miles away from the event location, they definitely won't come (or will come). But come on people - let's get our shit together and RSVP. I made it SO easy. You can call me. You can email me. If you prefer - because you're in my family - you can call my mom.
Email RSVPs are my favorite kind. No worries about calling during work or during dinner or after bedtime or before someone wakes up (like that's an issue for me - NOT). I threw everyone a huge bone!!
And while I'm griping about all things wedding - OMG - why oh why do weddings bring out the worst in people????
I won't elaborate too much but to me, a wedding is one of those circumstances where everyone should just behave and do all they can to celebrate the couple. And yet, it turns into a giant clusterfuck of one-upmanship and bullshit and weird rationalizations and all sorts of other crap.
I realize I have PTSD from my own horribly tragic wedding circumstances, and then the crappy circumstances of the "redo" so I try to keep my bitching to a minimum but - and I love ya T - I will be breathing a sigh of relief when this is over!! I am participating gladly and to the best of my ability and I want it to me an amazing day for M and T - but I also want to bitchslap about 10 people already - and we've got another 7 weeks to go. YIKES.
Monday, September 6, 2010
inspired
Based on my last rambling post, I felt inspired to take - and now post - a few pics of my fall flowers. I love the way the sunlight looks in the fall - dappled and not as blinding - and I tried to capture that light and the gorgeous colors here.
There is something neat about the perspective in this picture. I'm not sure what it is. These cosmos overtook one of my gardens this summer/fall - they are small (maybe only slightly bigger than a half dollar) but because of this angle, it looks like a field of them. (Well....there is a field of them but it isn't as big as this picture might portray.)
I love pansies. I love that these come back every year, change colors slightly each year, and then change colors across the seasons (spring --> fall). The color right now is gorgeous.
Our pumpkins and gourds are growing really slowly this season - I think it's the heat combined with our pesky woodchuck. The gourd flowers are so dainty - there's something contradictory about that.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
ok I'm not done yet
I want a new camera. I love photography. I love taking pictures. I love capturing these sweet or amazing or stressful moments in time. I enjoy looking through the lens at the ordinary, in a strange or extraordinary or exceptional way. I love seeing the unexpected or seeing the crispness of life and light - and capturing that in a photo.
I have 3 digital cameras. One has been comandeered by G. One is loaded with sand but is pocket-sized - so it's the one that's always in my purse or travel bag. The last one is the nicest - but they are all point and shoot. I want an SLR. I want to tap my Dad's brain for ways to take these pics, adjust my lenses, and develop my pics. I want to be able to take my (some say good) eye and my camera and bring that beauty and amazement to life. I love taking pictures of people but I also love architecture.
The SLR is on my list - it's BEEN on my list but I just can't pull the trigger.
Here's the weird thing about me. I was a math major in college with a double-quasi minor in Spanish and comp sci. Yeah - I'm a TOTAL nerd. A science nerd at that. I have an organized, logical brain.
I remember this logical mind being a part of every facet of my life from young childhood.
And yet...somewhere buried inside this ridiculously concrete brain is a creative side - thus making me a confused, tortured, contradiction.
I saw glimpses of that creativity from a young age. I picked up a flute at 8 and, much to the chagrin of my instructor, put it together, made a sound, and started playing. Reading music was easy and I could *feel* it, which is good since I'm deaf as a doornail in 1 ear. (This makes for an interesting off-pitch problem without an electronic tuner. Or someone without a deaf ear. ;-) )
I also used to see concrete (oh the irony) examples of this when I'd take personality tests. You know the 1 with the 4 - concrete sequential, abstract sequential, concrete random, abstract random? Yeah...you'd think I'd be in the farthest corner of concrete sequential...or not....somehow I was straddling this weird area around concrete sequential and random, yet hovering near abstract sequential as well. Ah yea - a CONTRADICTION if there ever were one.
But now that I'm an adult - despite being this logical, ridiculously OCD person...forget it. I'm like the absent-minded professor with some craziness thrown in for good measure. I love creating things - knitting, sewing, crafting in some way. I especially love to quilt. Oh please - shocking right? Math and creativity. There is this little part of me that would happily give up my dorky systems analyst job right now if I thought there was any freakin' way I could make some sort of reasonable living making quilts.
The sad thing is that I have grown accustomed to the reasonably decent salary that my dorky math nerd job cranks out. Oops.
So here I stand - a somehow slightly tortured pragmatist, who will squeeze in her creativity here and there for now, thereby keeping in touch with it, while I churn my way through the normalcy of my life and my big old nerd job - with some Mommying in there for good measure of course.
It seems like a reasonable compromise for now. But it makes me yearn for a time where I have the time - the time to be both of me.
In the meantime - a few of my more recent "pieces" and pics.
I have 3 digital cameras. One has been comandeered by G. One is loaded with sand but is pocket-sized - so it's the one that's always in my purse or travel bag. The last one is the nicest - but they are all point and shoot. I want an SLR. I want to tap my Dad's brain for ways to take these pics, adjust my lenses, and develop my pics. I want to be able to take my (some say good) eye and my camera and bring that beauty and amazement to life. I love taking pictures of people but I also love architecture.
The SLR is on my list - it's BEEN on my list but I just can't pull the trigger.
Here's the weird thing about me. I was a math major in college with a double-quasi minor in Spanish and comp sci. Yeah - I'm a TOTAL nerd. A science nerd at that. I have an organized, logical brain.
I remember this logical mind being a part of every facet of my life from young childhood.
And yet...somewhere buried inside this ridiculously concrete brain is a creative side - thus making me a confused, tortured, contradiction.
I saw glimpses of that creativity from a young age. I picked up a flute at 8 and, much to the chagrin of my instructor, put it together, made a sound, and started playing. Reading music was easy and I could *feel* it, which is good since I'm deaf as a doornail in 1 ear. (This makes for an interesting off-pitch problem without an electronic tuner. Or someone without a deaf ear. ;-) )
I also used to see concrete (oh the irony) examples of this when I'd take personality tests. You know the 1 with the 4 - concrete sequential, abstract sequential, concrete random, abstract random? Yeah...you'd think I'd be in the farthest corner of concrete sequential...or not....somehow I was straddling this weird area around concrete sequential and random, yet hovering near abstract sequential as well. Ah yea - a CONTRADICTION if there ever were one.
But now that I'm an adult - despite being this logical, ridiculously OCD person...forget it. I'm like the absent-minded professor with some craziness thrown in for good measure. I love creating things - knitting, sewing, crafting in some way. I especially love to quilt. Oh please - shocking right? Math and creativity. There is this little part of me that would happily give up my dorky systems analyst job right now if I thought there was any freakin' way I could make some sort of reasonable living making quilts.
The sad thing is that I have grown accustomed to the reasonably decent salary that my dorky math nerd job cranks out. Oops.
So here I stand - a somehow slightly tortured pragmatist, who will squeeze in her creativity here and there for now, thereby keeping in touch with it, while I churn my way through the normalcy of my life and my big old nerd job - with some Mommying in there for good measure of course.
It seems like a reasonable compromise for now. But it makes me yearn for a time where I have the time - the time to be both of me.
In the meantime - a few of my more recent "pieces" and pics.
long weekends
It's Sunday night on a long weekend which means that I don't have Sunday dread. Of course, it also means that Monday dread will be about 25 times worse. Yikes!
It's quiet in my house. Our weekend guests went home. The kid is sleeping. The hubby has been sleeping almost as long as the kid. ;-)
Silence is a funny thing. I love this quiet time when I get get things done or just relax a bit. But it also gets me thinking. Tonight, I went through a load of hard copy photos to start, organizing them by recipient. Then I put the rest back on my desk - I need to scrap with them soon - but when that will happen - who knows?
Afterwards, I started making a new list. Check that - I added to a very long list that I had started earlier in the evening. In the next 6 weeks, G has at least 6 soccer games, plus double that many practices, plus I have T's shower and wedding, plus I need to make G's Halloween costume. How the hell do people do this with more than one kid?!?!?!?
Needless to say, while my list gave me some feeling of stability and direction, it also overwhelmed me a bit. Let's face it - I pretty much want to putter in my garden and sit on my ass tomorrow. It isn't happening - too much to do!
I'm not complaining - honestly, I'm just tired and I thinking I'm rambling a bit.
On another note - I think I have a cavity. Ugh.
All right, this is a totally useless blog entry so I'll sign off for now. I'm feeling very distracted - I have a lot of thought-provoking crap to say - but not right now. Introspection, I fear, will stress me out. :-(
It's quiet in my house. Our weekend guests went home. The kid is sleeping. The hubby has been sleeping almost as long as the kid. ;-)
Silence is a funny thing. I love this quiet time when I get get things done or just relax a bit. But it also gets me thinking. Tonight, I went through a load of hard copy photos to start, organizing them by recipient. Then I put the rest back on my desk - I need to scrap with them soon - but when that will happen - who knows?
Afterwards, I started making a new list. Check that - I added to a very long list that I had started earlier in the evening. In the next 6 weeks, G has at least 6 soccer games, plus double that many practices, plus I have T's shower and wedding, plus I need to make G's Halloween costume. How the hell do people do this with more than one kid?!?!?!?
Needless to say, while my list gave me some feeling of stability and direction, it also overwhelmed me a bit. Let's face it - I pretty much want to putter in my garden and sit on my ass tomorrow. It isn't happening - too much to do!
I'm not complaining - honestly, I'm just tired and I thinking I'm rambling a bit.
On another note - I think I have a cavity. Ugh.
All right, this is a totally useless blog entry so I'll sign off for now. I'm feeling very distracted - I have a lot of thought-provoking crap to say - but not right now. Introspection, I fear, will stress me out. :-(
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
music soothes all
As I might have mentioned, I've been very stressed lately - work, child, personal life - lots of things weighing on my mind. I find music to be the ultimate cure for what ails me when it comes to stress.
There are a couple of songs I've been using to soothe my frazzled nerves lately. Here's one!
Out of Tune - Sarah McLachlan
I love love love Sarah. She can sing a Barney song and make me a happy woman. Sarah evokes a certain set of memories for me that are just lovely. This song is off her recent released and I just love it - the lyrics and the sound of her voice, and how she can amazingly hit the accidentals all over this song without going sharp. AMAZING.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dbCIfsm0gpc
Behind our door, there's no war
No burning towers, just hours of peace
Between us at least
No pretense no violence makes no sense
It isn't my heart that's grown cold
The same mistakes are getting old
I'm lost for words I don't know what to do
But when I'm lying here with you
And the whole world's out of tune
You're the one and only voice that makes things right
So stay with me tonight
Behind our door there's no hunger
No one trying to sell me heaven
Just loving arms it's just tonight
I don't want to hear 'bout our trying times
Don't wanna know about lost children,
About someone held for ransom
It isn't my heart that's grown cold
The same mistakes are getting old
I'm lost for words I don't know what to do
But when I'm lying here with you
And the whole world's out of tune
You're the one and only voice that makes things right
So stay with me tonight
There are a couple of songs I've been using to soothe my frazzled nerves lately. Here's one!
Out of Tune - Sarah McLachlan
I love love love Sarah. She can sing a Barney song and make me a happy woman. Sarah evokes a certain set of memories for me that are just lovely. This song is off her recent released and I just love it - the lyrics and the sound of her voice, and how she can amazingly hit the accidentals all over this song without going sharp. AMAZING.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dbCIfsm0gpc
Behind our door, there's no war
No burning towers, just hours of peace
Between us at least
No pretense no violence makes no sense
It isn't my heart that's grown cold
The same mistakes are getting old
I'm lost for words I don't know what to do
But when I'm lying here with you
And the whole world's out of tune
You're the one and only voice that makes things right
So stay with me tonight
Behind our door there's no hunger
No one trying to sell me heaven
Just loving arms it's just tonight
I don't want to hear 'bout our trying times
Don't wanna know about lost children,
About someone held for ransom
It isn't my heart that's grown cold
The same mistakes are getting old
I'm lost for words I don't know what to do
But when I'm lying here with you
And the whole world's out of tune
You're the one and only voice that makes things right
So stay with me tonight
my "baby" is a 3rd grader!
It's official. Sniffle. He reported that his new teacher is very nice, that he had a nervous stomach for part of the day, and that he was "a little embarassed" to admit to his classmates that he's currently reading "1776" by David McCullough (he's really reading it - crazy!!). Oh he also said that Miss B said he had "an amazingly large vocabulary" and that he was her best student. NOTE - I believe the former. NOT the latter.
Monday, August 30, 2010
nothing is ever easy
So much going on right now - my head feels like it's spinning and I am in dire need of both blogging and journalling!
The career risk seemed to be a good one. I got a message right back but am now in "phone tag mode", so I don't know where I stand, I just know that my inquiry at least got noticed. In the meantime, they long-looming reorganizational change -you know, one of those ones where everyone sort of knew for months - finally got announced today. I'll be the first to admit that, while I did know the details, one facet of it, the way something was put, was something I took personally as a huge slap in the face. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't a position I was up for or would even want - this is an area I support but am not in and that's TOTALLY fine with me. But it's a bitter pill to swallow when you put your heart and soul into supporting someone - or someones - and the person who is the most dependent, the most unwilling to learn or take on anything independently, and the one who is the first to complain if you - gasp - take a vacation or are unavailable because she "can't do this" - is the one that gets the corner office with the door and window and view while you're still in cubicle hell.
Having said that, I am trying to push my bitterness aside. The fact is, the powers that be decided that was the right move. I'm not going to change their mind. BUT, I am going to handle things differentlhy. In my mind, Senior Management (their term, not mine) doesn't require hand-holding by a measley peon. So the hand-holding will cease. Period.
Now let's see if I can do this. I am the consummate perfectionist and I am a people-pleaser. I totally suck at pushing back. I need to do it. I hope I can do it, at least a little bit.
In other news, this is my first 5 day work week in a while AND my "baby" starts 3rd grade on Weds. It's insane! Where the hell does the time go? I was reading an article about 9/11 the other day - the museum that they are putting up in remembrance of the day. It was a hard article to read, especially having been directly impacted by that day - especially when they showed pictures of the artifacts. The reason I mention this is because I found out that I was pregnant with G the week of 9/11. So not only do I have friends who lost loved ones that day, a cousin who was next to the towers when the first plane hit, and vivid memories of that day, but I will always think of my little man when that day comes up.
It is the most bittersweet feeling I've ever experienced. I remember peeing on the stick that Saturday and wondering what the hell I was doing. I was 3 months out from a miscarriage and finally feeling (emotionally) a little bit better - and now I was pregnant and the world was falling apart. It was hard to be excited because I was overwhelmed with sadness and fear and a little guilt about bringing an innocent child into a world that felt so chaotic.
I get like this every late August/early September now because not only does it mark the anniversary of 9/11 and me finding out I was pregnant, but it's the start of school, another milestone. It makes me feel twinges of melancholy but also small feelings of pride and happiness. My perspective on parenting may be a little - admittedly - weird. I love my son and I love watching him grow up. Seeing him get older and move into new phases of life does give me that sense of "omg my baby!", but it's also really cool to me. My responsibility as a parent is to help G grow into a fully functional, happy, healthy adult. When he starts a new school year or does something on his own or moves into a new phase in his life - it makes me feel like I'm doing my job as Mom right - it causes me a sense of pride and also of happiness for him. It's hard to watch him grow because I know that means he's one step away from not "needing" me in the way he has in the past - but it's also sort of awe-inspiring.
Wow, that was quite a tangent. I guess I'm thinking "out loud" tonight.
The problem is that I had an appointment with my therapist tonight. I usually see him every 2 weeks but I have been having MAJOR issues getting in there. Hubby's schedule is a little out of control - my social life is non-existent because of it, too, and frankly, it gets frustrating. I'm the last person to tell him he can't do something - not my way AT ALL - but he's racheted up to being out at least part of the evening 4 or 5 nights a week - PLUS he gets 2 hours a day at the gym in the mornings. So I'm frustrated and a little jealous!
Needless to say, I was eagerly anticipating talking to my shrink. It has been a rough month - mostly familial issues and the stress that puts on our marriage and how it makes me feel. I needed to get it out.
Except...my shrink double-booked on top of me. Why? Because I suck and haven't gotten to see him in a long while.
ARGH! So I am attempting to use blogger as therapy.
It's working - a little. I can't vent about the familial crap here - too many people reading. Hence the need to journal. And onward we go.
The career risk seemed to be a good one. I got a message right back but am now in "phone tag mode", so I don't know where I stand, I just know that my inquiry at least got noticed. In the meantime, they long-looming reorganizational change -you know, one of those ones where everyone sort of knew for months - finally got announced today. I'll be the first to admit that, while I did know the details, one facet of it, the way something was put, was something I took personally as a huge slap in the face. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't a position I was up for or would even want - this is an area I support but am not in and that's TOTALLY fine with me. But it's a bitter pill to swallow when you put your heart and soul into supporting someone - or someones - and the person who is the most dependent, the most unwilling to learn or take on anything independently, and the one who is the first to complain if you - gasp - take a vacation or are unavailable because she "can't do this" - is the one that gets the corner office with the door and window and view while you're still in cubicle hell.
Having said that, I am trying to push my bitterness aside. The fact is, the powers that be decided that was the right move. I'm not going to change their mind. BUT, I am going to handle things differentlhy. In my mind, Senior Management (their term, not mine) doesn't require hand-holding by a measley peon. So the hand-holding will cease. Period.
Now let's see if I can do this. I am the consummate perfectionist and I am a people-pleaser. I totally suck at pushing back. I need to do it. I hope I can do it, at least a little bit.
In other news, this is my first 5 day work week in a while AND my "baby" starts 3rd grade on Weds. It's insane! Where the hell does the time go? I was reading an article about 9/11 the other day - the museum that they are putting up in remembrance of the day. It was a hard article to read, especially having been directly impacted by that day - especially when they showed pictures of the artifacts. The reason I mention this is because I found out that I was pregnant with G the week of 9/11. So not only do I have friends who lost loved ones that day, a cousin who was next to the towers when the first plane hit, and vivid memories of that day, but I will always think of my little man when that day comes up.
It is the most bittersweet feeling I've ever experienced. I remember peeing on the stick that Saturday and wondering what the hell I was doing. I was 3 months out from a miscarriage and finally feeling (emotionally) a little bit better - and now I was pregnant and the world was falling apart. It was hard to be excited because I was overwhelmed with sadness and fear and a little guilt about bringing an innocent child into a world that felt so chaotic.
I get like this every late August/early September now because not only does it mark the anniversary of 9/11 and me finding out I was pregnant, but it's the start of school, another milestone. It makes me feel twinges of melancholy but also small feelings of pride and happiness. My perspective on parenting may be a little - admittedly - weird. I love my son and I love watching him grow up. Seeing him get older and move into new phases of life does give me that sense of "omg my baby!", but it's also really cool to me. My responsibility as a parent is to help G grow into a fully functional, happy, healthy adult. When he starts a new school year or does something on his own or moves into a new phase in his life - it makes me feel like I'm doing my job as Mom right - it causes me a sense of pride and also of happiness for him. It's hard to watch him grow because I know that means he's one step away from not "needing" me in the way he has in the past - but it's also sort of awe-inspiring.
Wow, that was quite a tangent. I guess I'm thinking "out loud" tonight.
The problem is that I had an appointment with my therapist tonight. I usually see him every 2 weeks but I have been having MAJOR issues getting in there. Hubby's schedule is a little out of control - my social life is non-existent because of it, too, and frankly, it gets frustrating. I'm the last person to tell him he can't do something - not my way AT ALL - but he's racheted up to being out at least part of the evening 4 or 5 nights a week - PLUS he gets 2 hours a day at the gym in the mornings. So I'm frustrated and a little jealous!
Needless to say, I was eagerly anticipating talking to my shrink. It has been a rough month - mostly familial issues and the stress that puts on our marriage and how it makes me feel. I needed to get it out.
Except...my shrink double-booked on top of me. Why? Because I suck and haven't gotten to see him in a long while.
ARGH! So I am attempting to use blogger as therapy.
It's working - a little. I can't vent about the familial crap here - too many people reading. Hence the need to journal. And onward we go.
Friday, August 20, 2010
reach
It's right there
What I am
What I want to be
I see it
In the distance
I get closer
And then it slips away
I try to reach it
I stretch
And push
And challenge
I get so very close
And it slips just out
Of my trembling hands.
I know what I want
I see the path
And yet
It must not be
Quite right
Because it's right
right there
And I just
Cannot catch it.
What I am
What I want to be
I see it
In the distance
I get closer
And then it slips away
I try to reach it
I stretch
And push
And challenge
I get so very close
And it slips just out
Of my trembling hands.
I know what I want
I see the path
And yet
It must not be
Quite right
Because it's right
right there
And I just
Cannot catch it.
love this song
I love Damien Rice, but I tend to get stuck on his album "O" because "Cold Water", "Amie", and "Blower's Daugher" are on that.
But lately I've been trying to work my iPod's shuffle feature to its maximum potential and it's been reminding me how much I love love love this song. Wow. Just wow.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VMGh3Ts5-WQ
But lately I've been trying to work my iPod's shuffle feature to its maximum potential and it's been reminding me how much I love love love this song. Wow. Just wow.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VMGh3Ts5-WQ
idle comments and a bit of a risk
I had this situation yesterday - it's one of those things that happens to all of us, and sometimes it's no big deal and other times, it catches you in a mood and it blows you away. I was having a - well - rough day. I am under a lot of pressure at work right now - short-staffed, too much work, and a general lack of understanding / acknowledgement of the situation by senior management, which is forcing us into completely unreasonable deadlines. This results in a lot of mud-slinging and throwing of people under tractor trailers - screw the buses.
Needless to say, I wasn't exactly in the best frame of mind.
A friend of mine and I were having a very benign conversation - actually, it was fun, because we were idly discussing being NOT at work - a good distractoin to the reality of what was going on around me. The conversation took an unexpected turn, a comment was made - in a way that wasn't meant to be malicious.
Yep - it may have not been intended that way, but it smacked me upside the head.
You know, it was just one of those things - where I felt like there was no consideration for how it could have come across before it was said.
Again, we've all done it. Open mouth, insert foot, hurt friend. It sucks when you do it because sometimes the sentence bubble is still hanging in the air and you realize "oh fuck".
In this instance, my friend (F) had no idea initially that the comment could be taken 2 ways...and then there was the realization...
I was in a sort of weepy, feeling-sorry-for-myself mood, so I actually stepped away from the conversation so as to avoid bursting into tears.
Then I went to the bathroom and the waterworks began. You know - sometimes you just have to cry it out. Thankfully, the full on weepies only lasted a few minutes (which was good - I had to go to yet another meeting!!!) - but I felt very melancholy for the next couple of hours.
To F's credit - I got a call a couple of hours later checking on how I was doing. That's the great thing about people who really are your friends, who really love you for who you are and what you mean in their lives. They know when they hurt you - then know when they screw up. In this instance - F's realization of why what was said was so hurtful took me being upset and a long hard look - but it happened, as did the apology and an open conversation about the real intention of the remark.
I still feel a little off, just because the message of what was said was hard to take - regardless of how it was said. I will be ok - I just need to digest a bit longer. If I were stronger - if I weren't as sensitive and didn't feel somewhere deep down that I never quite hit my mark, never quite do things well enough, never really care enough or do enough - maybe it wouldn't have been hard to take. But that's not me - I'm getting better at loving me but no matter how hard I try, my perfectionist self is never going to be the person I think I need to be - and so sometimes, the littlest thing, it will be hard for me to take.
----------
On another note - I took a bit of a (hopefully well-conceived) career risk today. I threw my hat in the ring and let my intentions of wanting to do more, be more, achieve more - well-known. Crap. That's a HUGE deal for me. Acting like I am that confident.
Shit.
I can't believe I did it.
Needless to say, I wasn't exactly in the best frame of mind.
A friend of mine and I were having a very benign conversation - actually, it was fun, because we were idly discussing being NOT at work - a good distractoin to the reality of what was going on around me. The conversation took an unexpected turn, a comment was made - in a way that wasn't meant to be malicious.
Yep - it may have not been intended that way, but it smacked me upside the head.
You know, it was just one of those things - where I felt like there was no consideration for how it could have come across before it was said.
Again, we've all done it. Open mouth, insert foot, hurt friend. It sucks when you do it because sometimes the sentence bubble is still hanging in the air and you realize "oh fuck".
In this instance, my friend (F) had no idea initially that the comment could be taken 2 ways...and then there was the realization...
I was in a sort of weepy, feeling-sorry-for-myself mood, so I actually stepped away from the conversation so as to avoid bursting into tears.
Then I went to the bathroom and the waterworks began. You know - sometimes you just have to cry it out. Thankfully, the full on weepies only lasted a few minutes (which was good - I had to go to yet another meeting!!!) - but I felt very melancholy for the next couple of hours.
To F's credit - I got a call a couple of hours later checking on how I was doing. That's the great thing about people who really are your friends, who really love you for who you are and what you mean in their lives. They know when they hurt you - then know when they screw up. In this instance - F's realization of why what was said was so hurtful took me being upset and a long hard look - but it happened, as did the apology and an open conversation about the real intention of the remark.
I still feel a little off, just because the message of what was said was hard to take - regardless of how it was said. I will be ok - I just need to digest a bit longer. If I were stronger - if I weren't as sensitive and didn't feel somewhere deep down that I never quite hit my mark, never quite do things well enough, never really care enough or do enough - maybe it wouldn't have been hard to take. But that's not me - I'm getting better at loving me but no matter how hard I try, my perfectionist self is never going to be the person I think I need to be - and so sometimes, the littlest thing, it will be hard for me to take.
----------
On another note - I took a bit of a (hopefully well-conceived) career risk today. I threw my hat in the ring and let my intentions of wanting to do more, be more, achieve more - well-known. Crap. That's a HUGE deal for me. Acting like I am that confident.
Shit.
I can't believe I did it.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Tickles and Dreams
There was something about you
You were always there
Tickling the back of my head
And the edges of my heart
And yet, that was all
It was an unanswered and unrecognized blip
I could feel it and yet
I could push it aside just as easily.
And yet, even with all that ignoring
And pretending it wasn't happening
Or I was losing my mind
Or I was letting romance crush all logic
The tickling..the lingering wonder
I could not get it to difuse itself
I couldn't squirm away from that tickle.
Instead, you entered my dreams
You were not a constant visitor
You were not even predictably there
But when you visited
It was everything, all encompassing
Everywhere
I wanted the dream to endure, live on
Waking up felt like a curse not a blessing.
No matter - my quest to ignore endured.
You were unattainable, unreachable, out of bounds.
I was losing my mind
There was nothing there between us
Only some overgrown school girl's unfounded fantasy
And maybe, just maybe, a little wistfullness as well.
But I was wrong
And I was blindsided when I discovered
Just how wrong I was.
It was just idle Tuesday - or was it Monday?
And there it was - this simple little dream
That little tickle I thought I was imagining
Was always there - even if it had been so very subtle
I'd felt it
Because you wanted me to.
You were always there
Tickling the back of my head
And the edges of my heart
And yet, that was all
It was an unanswered and unrecognized blip
I could feel it and yet
I could push it aside just as easily.
And yet, even with all that ignoring
And pretending it wasn't happening
Or I was losing my mind
Or I was letting romance crush all logic
The tickling..the lingering wonder
I could not get it to difuse itself
I couldn't squirm away from that tickle.
Instead, you entered my dreams
You were not a constant visitor
You were not even predictably there
But when you visited
It was everything, all encompassing
Everywhere
I wanted the dream to endure, live on
Waking up felt like a curse not a blessing.
No matter - my quest to ignore endured.
You were unattainable, unreachable, out of bounds.
I was losing my mind
There was nothing there between us
Only some overgrown school girl's unfounded fantasy
And maybe, just maybe, a little wistfullness as well.
But I was wrong
And I was blindsided when I discovered
Just how wrong I was.
It was just idle Tuesday - or was it Monday?
And there it was - this simple little dream
That little tickle I thought I was imagining
Was always there - even if it had been so very subtle
I'd felt it
Because you wanted me to.
curses to the Bachelor and Bachelorette
I weaned myself off of watching The Bachelor and The Bachelorette a couple of years ago - too much melodrama, too much bullshit, too much melancholy.
And yet, I seem to always manage to inadvertently catch the finales. CURSES! WHY? Why do they air that damn show when nothing else is on - I get sucked in with the romance and the drama and I am done for.
Tonight is no exception - and the fact that I had a damn glass of wine with the neighbors just before that - and forget it. It's not even "decision time" yet and I am a blubbering mess!
And yet, I seem to always manage to inadvertently catch the finales. CURSES! WHY? Why do they air that damn show when nothing else is on - I get sucked in with the romance and the drama and I am done for.
Tonight is no exception - and the fact that I had a damn glass of wine with the neighbors just before that - and forget it. It's not even "decision time" yet and I am a blubbering mess!
Friday, July 30, 2010
lonely tonight
That sensation that you are lonely when you're not actually alone really sucks.
In a sense, I am alone tonight. Kidlet has been in bed since 8:30 - and Hubby has been snoring on the couch since 9:15.
But it's Friday night! I worked my ass off this week - it was crazy stressful and, while I am emotionally and mentally fried, I'm not physically tired. It bugs me that I'm alone. I don't begrudge Hubby his sleep - he works out so damn much I'm amazed he's ever awake - and my kid NEEDS to be sleeping. But if I'm the only one awake, why am I sitting here watching "House Hunters" feeling antsy and fidgety when I probably could be out having a glass of wine with a girlfriend? Because I feel guilty? Because every time I go out, there is some sort of drama or mess I have to clean up afterwards? Who the hell knows. Maybe I need to stop feeling sorry for myself. I am such a self-indulgent dork sometimes.
In other news - I have turned the heel on my sock and am working on the foot. HOORAY! I was thinking about THE SOCK today on my way home from work (again with the dorkiness) and I realized that, while I seem to have been working on the damn thing FOREVER, after all my stops and starts, it's only been a couple of months. Considering I definitely do not work on it every night, and didn't even turn the heel until after our vacation 2 weeks ago - not too shabby. I hope to finish it soon. But whether or not I'll make the mate - who knows? One of my knitting friends said that the 2 socks at one thing isn't too hard - but this is my first sock!! So I told Kidlet that I'd make him a pair to go wih his tie-dyed socks as his "wierd socks" for school - at least his socks will be a little smaller. Plus, they won't be tall socks like this one is.
I have been listening to music like a crazy person recently - I always do but I have a huge Excel mess I have to work on at work right now, and I'm really NOT supposed to be interrupted (or get distracted), so I've been plugging my iPod all day. One of the artists I'm really enjoying right now is Damien Rice. The piano in his songs is beautiful and his lyrics are phenomenal.
I wish I could write lyrics like this - I could never come with the music behind it, I don't think, but I could play it. I miss music. How the hell does an old, tired, 36 year old mother reconnect with that 14 year old who couldn't practice her flute enough, and wanted to learn other instruments? I miss that immensely - I started learning piano when I got pregnant, but there just aren't enough hours in the day. See above - I can't even get myself enough time to exercise regularly or knit a freakin' sock - let alone play piano. Maybe I'll come back as a musician in my next life.
One of the songs I really like, for reasons I can't even begin to think about, let alone explain at this time:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ELTVP4aqWAI
Another amazing one:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQ1_RhaJznc
And if you're pissed - this is a good one. LOL. It came on at quite the appropriate time at work today, and saved my incompetent co-worker from losing a limb - or his life. Obviously, this song is certainly not about some jackass who can't figure out that when someone emails you for a status on an outstanding issue, they don't want you to tell them it's outstanding (REALLY???) - it's about hurting and ending - but nevertheless, the force of his f-bombs is quite fabulous for any sort of angst or frustration.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6rndltmm3oE
In a sense, I am alone tonight. Kidlet has been in bed since 8:30 - and Hubby has been snoring on the couch since 9:15.
But it's Friday night! I worked my ass off this week - it was crazy stressful and, while I am emotionally and mentally fried, I'm not physically tired. It bugs me that I'm alone. I don't begrudge Hubby his sleep - he works out so damn much I'm amazed he's ever awake - and my kid NEEDS to be sleeping. But if I'm the only one awake, why am I sitting here watching "House Hunters" feeling antsy and fidgety when I probably could be out having a glass of wine with a girlfriend? Because I feel guilty? Because every time I go out, there is some sort of drama or mess I have to clean up afterwards? Who the hell knows. Maybe I need to stop feeling sorry for myself. I am such a self-indulgent dork sometimes.
In other news - I have turned the heel on my sock and am working on the foot. HOORAY! I was thinking about THE SOCK today on my way home from work (again with the dorkiness) and I realized that, while I seem to have been working on the damn thing FOREVER, after all my stops and starts, it's only been a couple of months. Considering I definitely do not work on it every night, and didn't even turn the heel until after our vacation 2 weeks ago - not too shabby. I hope to finish it soon. But whether or not I'll make the mate - who knows? One of my knitting friends said that the 2 socks at one thing isn't too hard - but this is my first sock!! So I told Kidlet that I'd make him a pair to go wih his tie-dyed socks as his "wierd socks" for school - at least his socks will be a little smaller. Plus, they won't be tall socks like this one is.
I have been listening to music like a crazy person recently - I always do but I have a huge Excel mess I have to work on at work right now, and I'm really NOT supposed to be interrupted (or get distracted), so I've been plugging my iPod all day. One of the artists I'm really enjoying right now is Damien Rice. The piano in his songs is beautiful and his lyrics are phenomenal.
I wish I could write lyrics like this - I could never come with the music behind it, I don't think, but I could play it. I miss music. How the hell does an old, tired, 36 year old mother reconnect with that 14 year old who couldn't practice her flute enough, and wanted to learn other instruments? I miss that immensely - I started learning piano when I got pregnant, but there just aren't enough hours in the day. See above - I can't even get myself enough time to exercise regularly or knit a freakin' sock - let alone play piano. Maybe I'll come back as a musician in my next life.
One of the songs I really like, for reasons I can't even begin to think about, let alone explain at this time:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ELTVP4aqWAI
Another amazing one:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQ1_RhaJznc
And if you're pissed - this is a good one. LOL. It came on at quite the appropriate time at work today, and saved my incompetent co-worker from losing a limb - or his life. Obviously, this song is certainly not about some jackass who can't figure out that when someone emails you for a status on an outstanding issue, they don't want you to tell them it's outstanding (REALLY???) - it's about hurting and ending - but nevertheless, the force of his f-bombs is quite fabulous for any sort of angst or frustration.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6rndltmm3oE
Friday, July 23, 2010
lines can't cross
We all end in the same place
Where that is I do not know
But there it is
Vaguely looming
And life
Life is the journey
That takes us to that - the end.
How we get there
The paths we travel
The intersections we stumble upon
Or seek
The turns we take or avoid
Make us who we are
On those paths
Or on their parallels
Journey the people
In and out of our lives
We grab hands and walk together
Or shove them out
To another path, away from us.
The unknown is
How and when and why
They share a path or two
With us
Sometimes, they don't
The paths are alongside each other
But you can't quite share
The road
Their presence
Who they are
What they could mean to you
Are a mystery
Will they share that road with you
In that journey that is life?
Maybe
Maybe they can
Maybe they want to but won't choose
That sunny path
Will we meet them
Again
Or once
Before the end?
--------
Thanks to my son for bringing home a classic graph theory puzzle - one I knew the answer to and amazingly was right on - considering it's been 15 years since I took that class! - for inspiring yet another shitty Andrea poem. :-)
Where that is I do not know
But there it is
Vaguely looming
And life
Life is the journey
That takes us to that - the end.
How we get there
The paths we travel
The intersections we stumble upon
Or seek
The turns we take or avoid
Make us who we are
On those paths
Or on their parallels
Journey the people
In and out of our lives
We grab hands and walk together
Or shove them out
To another path, away from us.
The unknown is
How and when and why
They share a path or two
With us
Sometimes, they don't
The paths are alongside each other
But you can't quite share
The road
Their presence
Who they are
What they could mean to you
Are a mystery
Will they share that road with you
In that journey that is life?
Maybe
Maybe they can
Maybe they want to but won't choose
That sunny path
Will we meet them
Again
Or once
Before the end?
--------
Thanks to my son for bringing home a classic graph theory puzzle - one I knew the answer to and amazingly was right on - considering it's been 15 years since I took that class! - for inspiring yet another shitty Andrea poem. :-)
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
post-vacation backlash and other crap
Hubby, G and I just spent a week in Virginia Beach - this I would recommend as a decent family vacation, especially if you are willing to make the 50 minute run up to Williamsburg a few times. It was hot as haedes but we had a good time - less the bickering that my two boys did whenever they attempted to play cards or swim together amicably (NOT happening).
Unfortunately, despite only returning on Saturday, it feels like I never left. Maybe it was the 553 unread emails waiting for me on Monday morning. Maybe it was the intervention I had to make with Problem Child at work at 9:45am on Monday when he decided sending an email to a client asking him "who are you, do you really work with us?" because he doesn't know how to perform a wildcard search (how the hell did he become a Business Analyst?!?!?) was appropriate. Maybe it's the never-ever-ending family bullshit and drama.
In any event, vacation feels a million years ago and, frankly, I'd like my next vacation to be me. ALONE. QUIET. With lots of booze and books and my sock - which is NEARLY DONE!!!
So back to reality I am for now. Our new pool is in - with a slightly split liner - oh boy. Thankfully it's under warantee!! Work is work, and I am back to walking for exercise for the moment. That is, if the damn weather will cooperate! Today there was a tornado - or at least a funnel cloud - spotted within 1 mile of my work. It took me 1/2 hour to get out of the town, and just over an hour to get home. Of course...I was nearly out of gas...my cell phone was beeping red because it had no charge....oh my....
Needless to say, I am eagerly anticipating a boring, low-key, average day. Somehow I suspect that these ARE my average days now.
And while I'm bitching...I am so sick of having IBS. I have moments where it is a non-issue but the summer seems to make it, well, worse. Without any disgusting details, suffice it to say that while I love the fresh local fruits and veggies of the season...sometimes they hate me.
CURSES to my dad and his genetics for this blessed affliction. UGH!!!!!!
Ok, enough of my bitching for the evening. For now. ;-)
Unfortunately, despite only returning on Saturday, it feels like I never left. Maybe it was the 553 unread emails waiting for me on Monday morning. Maybe it was the intervention I had to make with Problem Child at work at 9:45am on Monday when he decided sending an email to a client asking him "who are you, do you really work with us?" because he doesn't know how to perform a wildcard search (how the hell did he become a Business Analyst?!?!?) was appropriate. Maybe it's the never-ever-ending family bullshit and drama.
In any event, vacation feels a million years ago and, frankly, I'd like my next vacation to be me. ALONE. QUIET. With lots of booze and books and my sock - which is NEARLY DONE!!!
So back to reality I am for now. Our new pool is in - with a slightly split liner - oh boy. Thankfully it's under warantee!! Work is work, and I am back to walking for exercise for the moment. That is, if the damn weather will cooperate! Today there was a tornado - or at least a funnel cloud - spotted within 1 mile of my work. It took me 1/2 hour to get out of the town, and just over an hour to get home. Of course...I was nearly out of gas...my cell phone was beeping red because it had no charge....oh my....
Needless to say, I am eagerly anticipating a boring, low-key, average day. Somehow I suspect that these ARE my average days now.
And while I'm bitching...I am so sick of having IBS. I have moments where it is a non-issue but the summer seems to make it, well, worse. Without any disgusting details, suffice it to say that while I love the fresh local fruits and veggies of the season...sometimes they hate me.
CURSES to my dad and his genetics for this blessed affliction. UGH!!!!!!
Ok, enough of my bitching for the evening. For now. ;-)
Saturday, July 3, 2010
not again - and some shitty poetry
Please excuse my sorry excuses for poetry. I have been very turned inside myself again lately and that crap just comes out - it's really just for myself but if it turns out to touch a nerve in someone else then - hey, that's a complete bonus.
I say not again because I had another one of those "my baby is simply NOT a baby" moments again today. It was during a totally benign and somewhat annoying situation.
My sister and I and my mom had plans today to go shopping for bridesmaids dresses - sis's wedding is now just 4 months away and with the shortness of her engagement combined with the chaos of her finishing her residency, taking her boards, moving, and starting her fellowship, that task has sort of fallen by the wayside.
I got up this morning hung over like nobody's business, which was my own damn stupid fault because in an impromptu visit to the neighbor's house last night, my neighbor and I polished off 2 bottles (gahhhhh) of wine. LOL. OOPS.
Needless to say I was attempting to wake up and rid myself of said hangover so as to be a productive participant in this shopping excursion when Hubby got home from D&D and said "I have a migraine - I'm sorry, I have to go to bed." I knew what this meant - I now had the pleasure of taking myt son with me on the trip (because it was 10 minutes before I had to leave and both sets of neighbors, who would normallhy have taken him, were leaving on trips...). Hung over. Oh boy.
I told G and he was not exactly thrilled until I told him he could bring 2 books and his DS. Magic words. ;-)
We got to the first place and he was not a happy camper until he found a nice little spot to sit underneath a collection of knee-length dresses. He was so damn cute, reading under there and flirting with the girls as they checked out the dresses, often surprising them with his presence and always flirting. SO CUTE!
We wound up going to a second (larger) store and overall the entire excursion, plus lunch, took about 4 hours. As I was driving us home, it dawned on me.
In those 4 hours, I really only had to speak to him once, towards the end, at lunch, when he laid down in the booth. Considering he had been the benefactor of my wine-induced stupidity and got to hang with his "girls" until MIDNIGHT, he was tired - so he wasn't really being bad.
I was in awe. Here I had tortured him because, let's face it, I'm not a huge fan of bridesmaid dress shopping, but he's 8 - this was torture for him!! Yet he had been poised, mature, and had listened and been respectful.
My kid. Not my baby. Not my little boy. My kid - who still struggles to behave at times but who, I must admit AND remember, has come a long way.
He's up to my armpit and sports a whole front mouthful of permanent teeth. He's going into 3rd grade and just about polished off his "expected minimum" reading amount for the summer.
Damn. How the hell did I become the mom of a kid?!?!?!
I say not again because I had another one of those "my baby is simply NOT a baby" moments again today. It was during a totally benign and somewhat annoying situation.
My sister and I and my mom had plans today to go shopping for bridesmaids dresses - sis's wedding is now just 4 months away and with the shortness of her engagement combined with the chaos of her finishing her residency, taking her boards, moving, and starting her fellowship, that task has sort of fallen by the wayside.
I got up this morning hung over like nobody's business, which was my own damn stupid fault because in an impromptu visit to the neighbor's house last night, my neighbor and I polished off 2 bottles (gahhhhh) of wine. LOL. OOPS.
Needless to say I was attempting to wake up and rid myself of said hangover so as to be a productive participant in this shopping excursion when Hubby got home from D&D and said "I have a migraine - I'm sorry, I have to go to bed." I knew what this meant - I now had the pleasure of taking myt son with me on the trip (because it was 10 minutes before I had to leave and both sets of neighbors, who would normallhy have taken him, were leaving on trips...). Hung over. Oh boy.
I told G and he was not exactly thrilled until I told him he could bring 2 books and his DS. Magic words. ;-)
We got to the first place and he was not a happy camper until he found a nice little spot to sit underneath a collection of knee-length dresses. He was so damn cute, reading under there and flirting with the girls as they checked out the dresses, often surprising them with his presence and always flirting. SO CUTE!
We wound up going to a second (larger) store and overall the entire excursion, plus lunch, took about 4 hours. As I was driving us home, it dawned on me.
In those 4 hours, I really only had to speak to him once, towards the end, at lunch, when he laid down in the booth. Considering he had been the benefactor of my wine-induced stupidity and got to hang with his "girls" until MIDNIGHT, he was tired - so he wasn't really being bad.
I was in awe. Here I had tortured him because, let's face it, I'm not a huge fan of bridesmaid dress shopping, but he's 8 - this was torture for him!! Yet he had been poised, mature, and had listened and been respectful.
My kid. Not my baby. Not my little boy. My kid - who still struggles to behave at times but who, I must admit AND remember, has come a long way.
He's up to my armpit and sports a whole front mouthful of permanent teeth. He's going into 3rd grade and just about polished off his "expected minimum" reading amount for the summer.
Damn. How the hell did I become the mom of a kid?!?!?!
Mirrored Perfection
Set a good example
Do the right thing
Good grades
Straight lines
Perfect girl
Lose yourself
In everyone's expectations
Who are you?
Do you even know?
Time marches on
Seasons change and pass
You wake up one day
And the person in the mirror
Is that really who you've become?
Inside yourself
You're someone else
Not so far from that perfect girl
But still flawed, confused
Not perfect - not at all
But all those years
All that time
The perfection has been expected
Rewarded - it's who you seem to be
If you know you're not
Where does that put you?
That reflection
It's the person you've become
Not who you are.
How do you reconcile
The difference between you
and the mirror you?
Do you?
Do you succumb
Or is who you've made yourself
Who you really are?
What happens when pieces of you
Are so far from perfection
They remind you that you are just
You
Life crisis
Or revelation and clarity
What you do
How you approach and embrace it
It's what determines
Who you will be
What you will become.
Do the right thing
Good grades
Straight lines
Perfect girl
Lose yourself
In everyone's expectations
Who are you?
Do you even know?
Time marches on
Seasons change and pass
You wake up one day
And the person in the mirror
Is that really who you've become?
Inside yourself
You're someone else
Not so far from that perfect girl
But still flawed, confused
Not perfect - not at all
But all those years
All that time
The perfection has been expected
Rewarded - it's who you seem to be
If you know you're not
Where does that put you?
That reflection
It's the person you've become
Not who you are.
How do you reconcile
The difference between you
and the mirror you?
Do you?
Do you succumb
Or is who you've made yourself
Who you really are?
What happens when pieces of you
Are so far from perfection
They remind you that you are just
You
Life crisis
Or revelation and clarity
What you do
How you approach and embrace it
It's what determines
Who you will be
What you will become.
Friday, July 2, 2010
I'd rather not know
You told me
For reasons I don't understand
Probably to heal your own ache
And now I know
It's right there
Staring me in the face
Challenging me
And calling into question
All that I am, all that I will be.
I'd like to say
I'd rather not know
That in my ignorance
I was blissful or content
The problem is
There is no reality to that
For there is some power
Some comfort
Some peace
In knowing
At the time time
I know
I can never not know again
It's right there
It taunts me and teases me
And makes me wonder
And question my own life
My own decisions.
What has it done for you?
Is there clarity?
Did you trade my confusion, pain and, yes, happiness
For some sense of peace.
I wish I didn't know
And yet
Now that I do know.
I can't imagine not knowing.
So here I sit.
And what I do with this information.
All this time.
I still don't know.
For reasons I don't understand
Probably to heal your own ache
And now I know
It's right there
Staring me in the face
Challenging me
And calling into question
All that I am, all that I will be.
I'd like to say
I'd rather not know
That in my ignorance
I was blissful or content
The problem is
There is no reality to that
For there is some power
Some comfort
Some peace
In knowing
At the time time
I know
I can never not know again
It's right there
It taunts me and teases me
And makes me wonder
And question my own life
My own decisions.
What has it done for you?
Is there clarity?
Did you trade my confusion, pain and, yes, happiness
For some sense of peace.
I wish I didn't know
And yet
Now that I do know.
I can't imagine not knowing.
So here I sit.
And what I do with this information.
All this time.
I still don't know.
Monday, June 28, 2010
while I'm on a roll here rambling...
I'm going to just pose a question here.
Do you think that, if a person goes through a monumental change in personality, it's just because life has slapped her in the face and she's reacting to it? Or do you think it's more granular, more dangerous than that? Do you think that she's trying to escape from something by changing how she behaves to live in the life she thinks she shlould be in?
I know it sounds like I'm talking about me. I'm not. I am talking about someone I know, and this radical personality change is now 5-ish years old. But the longer it remains entrenched, the more troublesome it seems to me - the more I wonder if the person I once knew will ever come back. It's sad to think that this is all for hiding from a reality that's standing right there.
I need to think on this one more but, right now, today especially, it's making me sad, it's making me hurt.
------------
Totally unrelated...
Hubby is back on a writing kick. (He won't blog. He thinks this is one of my more "fanciful" hobbies.) He's dragged "Strunk and White" back out. And when he writes, he needs a special notebook. The man has more notebooks of varying shapes and sizes than anyone I know. So tonight, he brings out the notebook he'll be writing in this go-round.
It's a notebook from college. And it's EMPTY.
I told him it must have been his notebook. I wouldn't have bought a spiral notebook (I loved and needed my binders and college ruled looseleaf paper) and, if I had, it sure as hell wouldn't be empty.
He laughed. Funny how his slacker ways are still present all these later - along with my dorky, overstudious, try-too-hard ways. Hmm...but me trying too hard is a subject I need to address in a separate blog. Just not tonight - my toes aches, I'm anticipating backlash from my lack of sports bra, and I'm dog tired.
Do you think that, if a person goes through a monumental change in personality, it's just because life has slapped her in the face and she's reacting to it? Or do you think it's more granular, more dangerous than that? Do you think that she's trying to escape from something by changing how she behaves to live in the life she thinks she shlould be in?
I know it sounds like I'm talking about me. I'm not. I am talking about someone I know, and this radical personality change is now 5-ish years old. But the longer it remains entrenched, the more troublesome it seems to me - the more I wonder if the person I once knew will ever come back. It's sad to think that this is all for hiding from a reality that's standing right there.
I need to think on this one more but, right now, today especially, it's making me sad, it's making me hurt.
------------
Totally unrelated...
Hubby is back on a writing kick. (He won't blog. He thinks this is one of my more "fanciful" hobbies.) He's dragged "Strunk and White" back out. And when he writes, he needs a special notebook. The man has more notebooks of varying shapes and sizes than anyone I know. So tonight, he brings out the notebook he'll be writing in this go-round.
It's a notebook from college. And it's EMPTY.
I told him it must have been his notebook. I wouldn't have bought a spiral notebook (I loved and needed my binders and college ruled looseleaf paper) and, if I had, it sure as hell wouldn't be empty.
He laughed. Funny how his slacker ways are still present all these later - along with my dorky, overstudious, try-too-hard ways. Hmm...but me trying too hard is a subject I need to address in a separate blog. Just not tonight - my toes aches, I'm anticipating backlash from my lack of sports bra, and I'm dog tired.
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