I went to In and Out tonight. I don't really have the money to be buying fast food, and there IS food at my house, but I really wanted a cheeseburger so I stole five bux out of my Europe fund, promised the dog I would be right back, and left
When I arrived, the drive through line was so long I figured I'd waste a burger's worth of gas sitting in it so I went in, passing by a kid at the door on my way.
He looked at me, teenage eyes glowing with embarrassment and asked if I had 75 cents or so.
I looked him in the eye and said, I only have enough for my dinner.
Which isn't completely untrue, a cheeseburger and a chocolate shake is about $5. but I wasn't going to get a shake.
I entered the restaurant and looked around me. I was surrounded by a high school sports team. I don't know if they are connected, but I remembered what it was like to watch your friends eat and not have any money to buy your own. To tell them you aren't hungry. To wish you had a bit of cash so you could pretend you were like them.
I know it was my own issues talking. I know I have no reason to feel guilty, but when I got my change, I went looking for that boy; the need to help overcoming my dislike of begging. He was gone.
But he was back when I left. So I gave him $1, much to his surprise, and muttered something about remembering what it is like to be hungry. I felt a little silly. And who knows, he might have made all sorts of cash out there by the In and Out door. Maybe I'm a sucker.
Or maybe he was hungry.
Showing posts with label Musings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Musings. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Bloggerama
Watching an old episode of House featuring a woman who blogs her whole life. Everything. She feels that unless she included it, she's lying to her readers.
Sometimes, I have a lot to say. Sometimes, I don't say much at all.
There's a lot I don't say.
I'm very careful what I say about my relationship with HM. I am careful because he would not want his personal life broadcast over the internet. I've already been through the ugliness of a person (or two) who read my blog, saw what I wrote while I was angry or frustrated. There have been hurt feelings, there has been anger. And I learned my lesson from that. I'm not willing to risk him.
I have also learned to be careful what I say about my other relationships. We are human and we are going to have hiccups with each other. My next post, actually, will talk about one.
I can talk all day about my blood clots and crazy shit I do. I try to only talk about the things that affect me directly. I think I have discussed not telling other people's stories.
The internet is no longer anonymous. If I hate my job, I can't complain about it, lest my bosses happened to google me. I'm pretty sure they have. My last job had their eye on my little corner of the internet. i don't blame them.
For the record, I like my job. It's challenging and at time difficult. More than I ever thought it would be. But I like it. I'm thankful for the challenge and the opportunity.
So, I don't post everything. And I am glad. I don't post everything to Facebook either. But i still like to write.
Sometimes, I have a lot to say. Sometimes, I don't say much at all.
There's a lot I don't say.
I'm very careful what I say about my relationship with HM. I am careful because he would not want his personal life broadcast over the internet. I've already been through the ugliness of a person (or two) who read my blog, saw what I wrote while I was angry or frustrated. There have been hurt feelings, there has been anger. And I learned my lesson from that. I'm not willing to risk him.
I have also learned to be careful what I say about my other relationships. We are human and we are going to have hiccups with each other. My next post, actually, will talk about one.
I can talk all day about my blood clots and crazy shit I do. I try to only talk about the things that affect me directly. I think I have discussed not telling other people's stories.
The internet is no longer anonymous. If I hate my job, I can't complain about it, lest my bosses happened to google me. I'm pretty sure they have. My last job had their eye on my little corner of the internet. i don't blame them.
For the record, I like my job. It's challenging and at time difficult. More than I ever thought it would be. But I like it. I'm thankful for the challenge and the opportunity.
So, I don't post everything. And I am glad. I don't post everything to Facebook either. But i still like to write.
Tuesday, October 08, 2013
Banishing the rain cloud
I have, of late, been running around with a rain cloud over my head. Not, literally, of course, but I can say that I have had a nasty, negative, stinky attitude about things over the last couple of years. It gathered and it festered until I wasn't saying much that was nice at all.
I'm not going to air my grievances. Firstly, it is not Festivus, and secondly, one does not regain their positivity by dwelling on the negative.
I tried to find the happy. I really did. Bratty would laugh at me as I would announce that I was not going to say anything negative for 10 whole minutes. Sometimes, that was a struggle. Sometimes, I failed at it. Shameful.
This. This Negative Nelly, is not who I am.
I've known for awhile that I need to reprioritize my life as I tend to have too many things going on. And I did start doing that. But it didn't really seem to be helping.
Then I took a road trip.
More about the actual trip later, but let me tell you, about 2 hours outside Reno, having sung for about an hour strait, alone, in my car, I felt the cloud dissipate.
What?
Was it the distance from Reno? Reno can be a pretty negative place. Things (and people) seem to just get stuck here.
Was it the singing? I don't sing very often lately. It's always made me feel better, but I typically listen to NPR because I like to be aware of current events. Plus, there's some interesting stuff on there.
Was it the excitement of seeing my family? Maybe but in that case, I would have noticed it before.
It doesn't matter. All that matters is that I was suddenly feeling like my old bonny self again.
Since I can't really leave the city where I live, I am trying to see it in a more positive light. And I only listen to NPR in the mornings on my way to work. I realized that the state of the world is pretty depressing. And the view of it I was getting was of war and strife. Terror and conflict. I know this isn't the whole world picture, but if you watch or listen to the news, the news reports all the drama. So less news. The afternoons and evenings are for music.
It's working. Although I still get frustrated and sometimes downright angry, I've managed to maintain my positivity. Suddenly, other people seem more positive too. Maybe it's because I'm not bringing the asshole into the equation, maybe it's because I am seeing them in a happier light.
It doesn't matter. Because things are really, really good.
I'm not going to air my grievances. Firstly, it is not Festivus, and secondly, one does not regain their positivity by dwelling on the negative.
I tried to find the happy. I really did. Bratty would laugh at me as I would announce that I was not going to say anything negative for 10 whole minutes. Sometimes, that was a struggle. Sometimes, I failed at it. Shameful.
This. This Negative Nelly, is not who I am.
I've known for awhile that I need to reprioritize my life as I tend to have too many things going on. And I did start doing that. But it didn't really seem to be helping.
Then I took a road trip.
More about the actual trip later, but let me tell you, about 2 hours outside Reno, having sung for about an hour strait, alone, in my car, I felt the cloud dissipate.
What?
Was it the distance from Reno? Reno can be a pretty negative place. Things (and people) seem to just get stuck here.
Was it the singing? I don't sing very often lately. It's always made me feel better, but I typically listen to NPR because I like to be aware of current events. Plus, there's some interesting stuff on there.
Was it the excitement of seeing my family? Maybe but in that case, I would have noticed it before.
It doesn't matter. All that matters is that I was suddenly feeling like my old bonny self again.
Since I can't really leave the city where I live, I am trying to see it in a more positive light. And I only listen to NPR in the mornings on my way to work. I realized that the state of the world is pretty depressing. And the view of it I was getting was of war and strife. Terror and conflict. I know this isn't the whole world picture, but if you watch or listen to the news, the news reports all the drama. So less news. The afternoons and evenings are for music.
It's working. Although I still get frustrated and sometimes downright angry, I've managed to maintain my positivity. Suddenly, other people seem more positive too. Maybe it's because I'm not bringing the asshole into the equation, maybe it's because I am seeing them in a happier light.
It doesn't matter. Because things are really, really good.
Wednesday, October 02, 2013
Part 6 - Seriously? Part 6?
I did what any other person would so in my situation, I bitched on Facebook, and received a few welcome suggestions on where to pick up a shirt in town.
I hit the hospital near my work. While they had a great selection, their prices were high and shirts, while better quality, were thin. Even the outerwear was thin. If the wind is going to blow right through a fleece jacket, you may as well not spend 50 bucks on the fleece jacket. I was less angry with the purchasing agents at the hospital because, it's a hospital, not a clothing store.
I returned to work where I had my epiphany.
I'm no longer going to spend my hard earned dollars on mediocrity.
I thought that should be big and bold. Because it's important and I hope more people adopt this philosophy. We buy a lot of crap, us Americans. And by buying crap and accepting low quality, we are telling buyers and manufacturers that this is acceptable. Suddenly, all we can get is crap and then we bitch about it.
I know this means that I will have to pay more for what I want. That there will be less impulse buys of stuff because it was cheap. But I also fail to see why that is a bad thing. I think I will save money in the long run because I won't have to replace crappy stuff AND when it comes to clothes, I'll feel better about myself because I won't be worried about whether you can see my belly button through the incredibly thin shirt I am wearing. Self confidence is worth a few more dollars.
Meanwhile, in my own products, I will have to ensure that what I produce is top notch. I already have standards, but I think I need to raise the bar if I am going to expect other producers to raise the bar as well.
This also means I'm going to have to quit talking about it and dump AT&T as my internet provider because the service I am getting from them is sub par.
Yes, I am totally calling out brand names and big companies because I know they have web crawlers out looking for this stuff. And good. I hope they are listening. I know for certain that AT&T didn't hear me when I told their CSR that their service was unreliable. I know because it is STILL unreliable.
I hit the hospital near my work. While they had a great selection, their prices were high and shirts, while better quality, were thin. Even the outerwear was thin. If the wind is going to blow right through a fleece jacket, you may as well not spend 50 bucks on the fleece jacket. I was less angry with the purchasing agents at the hospital because, it's a hospital, not a clothing store.
I returned to work where I had my epiphany.
I'm no longer going to spend my hard earned dollars on mediocrity.
I thought that should be big and bold. Because it's important and I hope more people adopt this philosophy. We buy a lot of crap, us Americans. And by buying crap and accepting low quality, we are telling buyers and manufacturers that this is acceptable. Suddenly, all we can get is crap and then we bitch about it.
I know this means that I will have to pay more for what I want. That there will be less impulse buys of stuff because it was cheap. But I also fail to see why that is a bad thing. I think I will save money in the long run because I won't have to replace crappy stuff AND when it comes to clothes, I'll feel better about myself because I won't be worried about whether you can see my belly button through the incredibly thin shirt I am wearing. Self confidence is worth a few more dollars.
Meanwhile, in my own products, I will have to ensure that what I produce is top notch. I already have standards, but I think I need to raise the bar if I am going to expect other producers to raise the bar as well.
This also means I'm going to have to quit talking about it and dump AT&T as my internet provider because the service I am getting from them is sub par.
Yes, I am totally calling out brand names and big companies because I know they have web crawlers out looking for this stuff. And good. I hope they are listening. I know for certain that AT&T didn't hear me when I told their CSR that their service was unreliable. I know because it is STILL unreliable.
Monday, July 22, 2013
Of all the habits for a ghost to have
I was sitting in my living room the other night, watching Bones, of course, when I was overtaken by an odor. The front door and windows were closed.
Suddenly, my house smelled like pot.
I'm certain that at some point in the past, I have ranted about how much I dislike the drug and the smell of the drug and anything that has to do with the drug.
You can speak to me all day long of medicinal properties, and while I will admit there likely are many, I still don't like it. Yuo aren't going to change my mind. This is a lifelong hatred with many levels of reasoning behind it and quite frankly, I don't think I need to fix it, I'm fine with hating pot.
I went outside, and sure enough, there was an odor out there too, so it's very likely that the smell came in through the back door, which is actually close to the front of my house.
Which means that either someone was smoking pot close enough to my house that I could smell it at my front and back doors and along the path in between (without me hearing footsteps or alerting the dog) OR my ghost has a very unwelcome habit.
Suddenly, my house smelled like pot.
I'm certain that at some point in the past, I have ranted about how much I dislike the drug and the smell of the drug and anything that has to do with the drug.
You can speak to me all day long of medicinal properties, and while I will admit there likely are many, I still don't like it. Yuo aren't going to change my mind. This is a lifelong hatred with many levels of reasoning behind it and quite frankly, I don't think I need to fix it, I'm fine with hating pot.
I went outside, and sure enough, there was an odor out there too, so it's very likely that the smell came in through the back door, which is actually close to the front of my house.
Which means that either someone was smoking pot close enough to my house that I could smell it at my front and back doors and along the path in between (without me hearing footsteps or alerting the dog) OR my ghost has a very unwelcome habit.
Sunday, May 05, 2013
Biggest Little FurCon
It's unusual for me to be up at 3 am and even more unusual for me to be up writing at this late, late hour, especially knowing that clean sheets await.
Some things, though, cannot wait.
Tonight, I attended a Furry Convention.
Furries, for the uninitiated, are people who dress like animals. Think, high school mascot, only far more personal.
It was something the Wifey had always wanted to do, attend a Furry convention, so imagine her surprise when there was one in Reno. Since I tend to be up for a good people watching adventure, I agreed to go to the casino where it was being held and stare.
What I found was a really nice group of people in various states of animal dress. Some, just wore tails. Some, ears. Others were in full body costumes. Some costumes were homemade, some were custom. All exhibited a certain personality. You could tell that some of the people were more comfortable in their costume than they were in regular clothes.
Amazingly, I get that. Where I thought I would giggle and snort and roll my eyes, I found that I accepted their desire to dress as animals. I understood their need to wear a different skin. One of their own design. Who wouldn't want to be a purple giraffe? Who hasn't put on a costume and felt empowered? I feel that way every time I wear certain outfits or put on my referee jersey.
We ended up in a Furry dance party. I sat and watched while my cohorts boogied. I smiled at the unabashed joy of the revelers. I blushed at the Yiffing. It was, an experience to remember.
Some things, though, cannot wait.
Tonight, I attended a Furry Convention.
Furries, for the uninitiated, are people who dress like animals. Think, high school mascot, only far more personal.
It was something the Wifey had always wanted to do, attend a Furry convention, so imagine her surprise when there was one in Reno. Since I tend to be up for a good people watching adventure, I agreed to go to the casino where it was being held and stare.
What I found was a really nice group of people in various states of animal dress. Some, just wore tails. Some, ears. Others were in full body costumes. Some costumes were homemade, some were custom. All exhibited a certain personality. You could tell that some of the people were more comfortable in their costume than they were in regular clothes.
Amazingly, I get that. Where I thought I would giggle and snort and roll my eyes, I found that I accepted their desire to dress as animals. I understood their need to wear a different skin. One of their own design. Who wouldn't want to be a purple giraffe? Who hasn't put on a costume and felt empowered? I feel that way every time I wear certain outfits or put on my referee jersey.
We ended up in a Furry dance party. I sat and watched while my cohorts boogied. I smiled at the unabashed joy of the revelers. I blushed at the Yiffing. It was, an experience to remember.
Friday, March 29, 2013
The Storyteller
I love to tell stories. Clearly. Sometimes I admit, that my zeal for a good story outshines the interest of the story itself. Maybe the trouble is that I just like to talk.
My father tells stories too. I have many fond memories of laughing for hours as he talked about his around the world adventures. Around the world is a place that I have never been.
Poor Bratty gets the brunt of my stories, you know, since we spend at least 8 hours per day together. Sometimes, I'll be right in the middle of telling her another one when she turns and asks if I am talking to her. That's when I realize that I'm speaking to hear myself speak and it's time to shut up. She isn't being mean, she really just doesn't always know when I am addressing her and not my computer.
A week or two ago, a friend told me something that I would ordinarily repeat. When I opened my mouth to mention it, you know, just telling stories and spreading the news, I stopped myself.
For the first time, I realized that I was about to pass along a story that wasn't mine to tell.
I would never call myself a gossip. Nosey, absolutely. I love to hear a good story as much as I like to tell them. But not a gossip. Gossip is malicious and mean, right? Something I don't want to be.
But it isn't always, is it? In fact, Merriam Webster defines gossip in three ways. a person who habitually reveals personal or sensational facts about others. rumor or report of an intimate nature. and chatty talk. What I thought of as chatty talk though, might have been a rumor or report of an intimate nature. And I had become a person who reveals personal or sensational facts about others.
Wow. That's some ugly lint growing in my navel.
So I have been making a concentrated effort not to be the repeater of intimate details that are not my own. I've caught myself several times. Funny thing is, while I'm not repeating the stories, I find that I'm also a little less nosey. I catch myself perking up at a juicy bit only to walk away with the reminder that it's not my business.
I can tell MY stories all I want. But I don't want to tell other people's stories anymore. It's gotten quieter around here.
My father tells stories too. I have many fond memories of laughing for hours as he talked about his around the world adventures. Around the world is a place that I have never been.
Poor Bratty gets the brunt of my stories, you know, since we spend at least 8 hours per day together. Sometimes, I'll be right in the middle of telling her another one when she turns and asks if I am talking to her. That's when I realize that I'm speaking to hear myself speak and it's time to shut up. She isn't being mean, she really just doesn't always know when I am addressing her and not my computer.
A week or two ago, a friend told me something that I would ordinarily repeat. When I opened my mouth to mention it, you know, just telling stories and spreading the news, I stopped myself.
For the first time, I realized that I was about to pass along a story that wasn't mine to tell.
I would never call myself a gossip. Nosey, absolutely. I love to hear a good story as much as I like to tell them. But not a gossip. Gossip is malicious and mean, right? Something I don't want to be.
But it isn't always, is it? In fact, Merriam Webster defines gossip in three ways. a person who habitually reveals personal or sensational facts about others. rumor or report of an intimate nature. and chatty talk. What I thought of as chatty talk though, might have been a rumor or report of an intimate nature. And I had become a person who reveals personal or sensational facts about others.
Wow. That's some ugly lint growing in my navel.
So I have been making a concentrated effort not to be the repeater of intimate details that are not my own. I've caught myself several times. Funny thing is, while I'm not repeating the stories, I find that I'm also a little less nosey. I catch myself perking up at a juicy bit only to walk away with the reminder that it's not my business.
I can tell MY stories all I want. But I don't want to tell other people's stories anymore. It's gotten quieter around here.
Wednesday, March 06, 2013
Lie to me
It's rare to meet a person who isn't going to lie to you. I can generally tell if someone is fibbing, I just won't say anything.
Like that guy I dated who lied about just about everything. I knew that his stories didn't line up, but I like to trust people. However, despite my head-in-the-sand mentality, I knew something wasn't right and when the truth came out, I wasn't as hurt as I would have been otherwise. Suddenly, the stories made sense and I was able to see that the entire 5 month relationship had no foundation. I was glad I had refused to meet his kids. A few days later, Chango lay his little puppy head on my shoulder and I lost my heart to a far more reliable male. Dogs will never lie to you. Also, if you give away their children, they don't get upset.
I've learned to trust that instinct. That doesn't mean I always act on it, sometimes to my detriment, but I recognize it and take note. File the information for later use.
That is not the point of this story.
Last night, my gym lied to me.
When I signed up over a month ago, they told me that I would have to meet with a personal trainer whether I wanted to or not. Unfortunately, the soonest available time I could attend a meeting was a month out. I wrote it down, but still forgot. Dangit! The trainer was supposed to give me the little scan card I need to get into the facility instead of having to check in manually with reception every time. Annoying.
Last night, I went out of my way to attend the gym where I signed up so that I could go ahead and get my card. The receptionist told me that only the trainers have them and that I'd have to make another appointment with the sales guy in order to get it.
Let me make this clear. I do not want to pay a personal trainer. My experience with them has not been good and I can generally rely on myself to kick my own butt. Also, I don't need someone to tell me I'm fat because I have a high BMI. While I do need to lose some weight, I'm not actually fat, I'm dense. I do not float, I sink. Most trainers don't want to hear these things, they just want you to buy their services. And I get that, but I'm not interested.
So, after my 45 minutes on the arc trainer, I showed up dripping, to my sales guy's desk. I waited for him to notice me (I love sales people who don't need you after the sale. jerk. Clearly my "he just wants your money" instinct was right on there.) and asked to make another appointment. He responded that they can do that up front. I casually let him know that they had sent me to him and (played a little dumb) announced that I'd go make the appointment with them.
Back up at the front desk, I spoke with the first girl. I told her that Joe had told me I could make an appointment with her. She looked a little baffled. Then opened a drawer and said "Oh look! We have one left!" and produced a scan tag. Then she acted all conspiratorial as she got it assigned to me. Like we were getting away with something.
All I could think was, if you're going to lie to me, at least try to hide it. OR be so obvious about it that we both undertand that you're just following protocall, you know?
Like that guy I dated who lied about just about everything. I knew that his stories didn't line up, but I like to trust people. However, despite my head-in-the-sand mentality, I knew something wasn't right and when the truth came out, I wasn't as hurt as I would have been otherwise. Suddenly, the stories made sense and I was able to see that the entire 5 month relationship had no foundation. I was glad I had refused to meet his kids. A few days later, Chango lay his little puppy head on my shoulder and I lost my heart to a far more reliable male. Dogs will never lie to you. Also, if you give away their children, they don't get upset.
I've learned to trust that instinct. That doesn't mean I always act on it, sometimes to my detriment, but I recognize it and take note. File the information for later use.
That is not the point of this story.
Last night, my gym lied to me.
When I signed up over a month ago, they told me that I would have to meet with a personal trainer whether I wanted to or not. Unfortunately, the soonest available time I could attend a meeting was a month out. I wrote it down, but still forgot. Dangit! The trainer was supposed to give me the little scan card I need to get into the facility instead of having to check in manually with reception every time. Annoying.
Last night, I went out of my way to attend the gym where I signed up so that I could go ahead and get my card. The receptionist told me that only the trainers have them and that I'd have to make another appointment with the sales guy in order to get it.
Let me make this clear. I do not want to pay a personal trainer. My experience with them has not been good and I can generally rely on myself to kick my own butt. Also, I don't need someone to tell me I'm fat because I have a high BMI. While I do need to lose some weight, I'm not actually fat, I'm dense. I do not float, I sink. Most trainers don't want to hear these things, they just want you to buy their services. And I get that, but I'm not interested.
So, after my 45 minutes on the arc trainer, I showed up dripping, to my sales guy's desk. I waited for him to notice me (I love sales people who don't need you after the sale. jerk. Clearly my "he just wants your money" instinct was right on there.) and asked to make another appointment. He responded that they can do that up front. I casually let him know that they had sent me to him and (played a little dumb) announced that I'd go make the appointment with them.
Back up at the front desk, I spoke with the first girl. I told her that Joe had told me I could make an appointment with her. She looked a little baffled. Then opened a drawer and said "Oh look! We have one left!" and produced a scan tag. Then she acted all conspiratorial as she got it assigned to me. Like we were getting away with something.
All I could think was, if you're going to lie to me, at least try to hide it. OR be so obvious about it that we both undertand that you're just following protocall, you know?
Friday, February 08, 2013
Growing Pains
I hope that I am always growing. Changing for the better. Getting closer to the person that I want to be.
Call it PMS, over stimulation, over tired, low blood sugar, call it what you want but I recently found myself behaving in a manner that was NOT the person that I want to be. And it made me wonder if that bad attitude has been festering for awhile. Coloring my life in an ugly manner and causing issues with the people that I care about.
Generally, when things go wrong, I ask myself what I did to cause it. Over the last year, I learned that it isn't always me, that other people, in their imperfection, also contribute to the dysfunction of a relationship. This doesn't mean that I do not contribute, only that I may not be the only problem.
Since I can only control myself, I want to do whatever I can do to make sure that I am not being an asshole. It's not always easy.
It doesn't help that when I decide to make a life overhaul, I tend to do it all at once. The strict budgeting is taking it's toll. I didn't think it would be easy, and I think overall it's been easier than I thought it would be, but it's still hard. I have slipped a couple of times, I hear that happens, I know it will get easier. I contacted another possible roommate today. That will help a lot. 1 year of roommate will knock out 1 credit card plus about half of the other (as long as I continue to pay what I am paying on them and don't add more debt). 15 months of roommate will pay them off completely if I add another $50 in payments each month (which I already started doing to cover the fun I had for the New Year). I really like how that story goes. Will it actually work that way? probably not. But I can do my best. Realistically, 2.5 years with a roommate should pay off both cards. I am not counting tax returns or bonuses in this amount. I AM taking into account travel expenses.
I started going to the gym again, which seems to be working to helping my mood and focus, but that takes time away from the dog. So I am trying to take him for more walks, and now that I'm home before dark and it's warming up, hopefully we can start meeting his doggy friends again.
My interpersonal relationships are... A little messy right now. Some are great! Others, need something. Vitamins? Medication? Communication? CPR? I'm not sure. And I don't know if I am equipped to give any of those things. I do know that I have started to question the kind of friend that I am. And I worry that I'm not a good one. I think I need to try harder and give more. I just don't know how. I do know that in some cases, I'm seeing the same patterns that I have seen since elementary school. I think I need to fix that. I need to be more appreciative of the people I have. All of them, not just the ones that I see all the time. I've said it before, no one person should have to carry the burden of being my only friend. If it sounds terrible to hear that I may have to put people on my to-do list, please understand that this is how I make them a higher priority in my life. by reminding myself to give attention to the people who are important to me.
I know I need to re prioritize many things. I talk about it a lot, and always intend to fix the priorities. And in some ways, I'm working on it. It's just easier sometimes to slip into old habits.
Friends, of any sort, I need to foster those. Learn to have more than one or two friends at a time. When was the last time I sent love to one of my friends south of here? When was the last time I sent a text just to say "hello"? When was the last time I planned an outing instead of waiting for someone to invite me to theirs?
Derby, I need to give less. It's become a bad relationship. The kind where I give more than I get. I don't think I will give it up completely any time soon, but it also doesn't need to consume as much of my energy as it does. I need to set boundaries here.
BC needs more of me.
Chango needs more of me too.
I should be writing this down on some sort of goal list. and making a plan.
I need more of me, but I am making progress here. I've been doing a lot of "nothing" lately (if nothing is knitting and watching TV) and it feels good. But I need to balance it out and not spend my entire weekend watching Toddlers and Tiaras. I need to set boundaries here too.
So, here is where I am beginning. Hopefully this will work. I've split my obvious issues into categories. Friends, Derby, BC, Chango, Self, Home. I'm going to allocate time to all of those things. Not daily, maybe not even weekly. But if I want to change, I have to start somewhere. And it will help to see where I am spending my time. and how I am spending it.
Step 2 ????
Step three, MONEY!!
I know. I'm a fruitcake. But after all that seriousness, I needed a smile. I found this free online printable. It's an appointment book page which won't actually fit in my appointment book, but at least I can use it to plan out my time. Actually, I think I am going to hang it on my studio wall. I printed 5. I don't want to waste paper in case I stop using it, but at least I can use it in conjuntion with my regualr planner.
Here's to change and trying to be a better me
Call it PMS, over stimulation, over tired, low blood sugar, call it what you want but I recently found myself behaving in a manner that was NOT the person that I want to be. And it made me wonder if that bad attitude has been festering for awhile. Coloring my life in an ugly manner and causing issues with the people that I care about.
Generally, when things go wrong, I ask myself what I did to cause it. Over the last year, I learned that it isn't always me, that other people, in their imperfection, also contribute to the dysfunction of a relationship. This doesn't mean that I do not contribute, only that I may not be the only problem.
Since I can only control myself, I want to do whatever I can do to make sure that I am not being an asshole. It's not always easy.
It doesn't help that when I decide to make a life overhaul, I tend to do it all at once. The strict budgeting is taking it's toll. I didn't think it would be easy, and I think overall it's been easier than I thought it would be, but it's still hard. I have slipped a couple of times, I hear that happens, I know it will get easier. I contacted another possible roommate today. That will help a lot. 1 year of roommate will knock out 1 credit card plus about half of the other (as long as I continue to pay what I am paying on them and don't add more debt). 15 months of roommate will pay them off completely if I add another $50 in payments each month (which I already started doing to cover the fun I had for the New Year). I really like how that story goes. Will it actually work that way? probably not. But I can do my best. Realistically, 2.5 years with a roommate should pay off both cards. I am not counting tax returns or bonuses in this amount. I AM taking into account travel expenses.
I started going to the gym again, which seems to be working to helping my mood and focus, but that takes time away from the dog. So I am trying to take him for more walks, and now that I'm home before dark and it's warming up, hopefully we can start meeting his doggy friends again.
My interpersonal relationships are... A little messy right now. Some are great! Others, need something. Vitamins? Medication? Communication? CPR? I'm not sure. And I don't know if I am equipped to give any of those things. I do know that I have started to question the kind of friend that I am. And I worry that I'm not a good one. I think I need to try harder and give more. I just don't know how. I do know that in some cases, I'm seeing the same patterns that I have seen since elementary school. I think I need to fix that. I need to be more appreciative of the people I have. All of them, not just the ones that I see all the time. I've said it before, no one person should have to carry the burden of being my only friend. If it sounds terrible to hear that I may have to put people on my to-do list, please understand that this is how I make them a higher priority in my life. by reminding myself to give attention to the people who are important to me.
I know I need to re prioritize many things. I talk about it a lot, and always intend to fix the priorities. And in some ways, I'm working on it. It's just easier sometimes to slip into old habits.
Friends, of any sort, I need to foster those. Learn to have more than one or two friends at a time. When was the last time I sent love to one of my friends south of here? When was the last time I sent a text just to say "hello"? When was the last time I planned an outing instead of waiting for someone to invite me to theirs?
Derby, I need to give less. It's become a bad relationship. The kind where I give more than I get. I don't think I will give it up completely any time soon, but it also doesn't need to consume as much of my energy as it does. I need to set boundaries here.
BC needs more of me.
Chango needs more of me too.
I should be writing this down on some sort of goal list. and making a plan.
I need more of me, but I am making progress here. I've been doing a lot of "nothing" lately (if nothing is knitting and watching TV) and it feels good. But I need to balance it out and not spend my entire weekend watching Toddlers and Tiaras. I need to set boundaries here too.
So, here is where I am beginning. Hopefully this will work. I've split my obvious issues into categories. Friends, Derby, BC, Chango, Self, Home. I'm going to allocate time to all of those things. Not daily, maybe not even weekly. But if I want to change, I have to start somewhere. And it will help to see where I am spending my time. and how I am spending it.
Step 2 ????
Step three, MONEY!!
I know. I'm a fruitcake. But after all that seriousness, I needed a smile. I found this free online printable. It's an appointment book page which won't actually fit in my appointment book, but at least I can use it to plan out my time. Actually, I think I am going to hang it on my studio wall. I printed 5. I don't want to waste paper in case I stop using it, but at least I can use it in conjuntion with my regualr planner.
Here's to change and trying to be a better me
Saturday, February 02, 2013
The 52 Week Challenge
I noticed the other day that there was a new popular thingy going around on Pinterest. The 52 week Challenge.
Since most stuff like this tends to catch my eye, make them roll, and then I move on, I thought I would stop for a moment and actually see what it was all about.
I entered it into my favorite search engine and sure enough, it was a variation on the penny trick used for MANY years to to teach children the value of saving. In short, it's all about compounding. 1 penny today, 2 tomorrow, and soon enough, MONEY!!
Only in this case, it's $1 this week, (not a problem) $2 next week, (still not a problem) and so on. 52 weeks later, MONEY!
You can see the chart here.
What no one seems to remember is that this money has to come from somewhere. And when you are on a tight budget, it's difficult to say where the money will come from. Sure, I can come up with $1 for this week, and maybe $2 next week, but when we start getting into the $5 and the $10, it gets a little more difficult. In fact, you start risking dipping into my grocery or gas fund.
By week $40, you just took both my grocery AND gas fund. In Week 50, there's no more money for the dog and the bird to eat. Sure, I have saved over $1,000, but I broke my budget doing it. Sound extreme? from what I see, for many Americans, it's reality.
I find it easier to build a specific amount directly into my budget. I put $30 per week on automatic withdrawl. I've had to learn to check each week on Friday to ensure that the money will be in there to be removed on Monday, but since I started doing that, I haven't overdrawn. The one time I was going to, I went ahead and put a stop on the transfer.
Over all, at $30 per week, for 52 weeks, I save over $1,500. Which is actually not too much more than the 52 week challenge, but I also don't have to worry about where I'm going to find that cash (if I have it, and it's not in an envelope, I'm going to spend it somewhere) it's already allocated.
Do what works for you, but I've put quite a bit of money away over the years this way and give myself regular raises. It seems to be one of the few financial things I've done right!
Since most stuff like this tends to catch my eye, make them roll, and then I move on, I thought I would stop for a moment and actually see what it was all about.
I entered it into my favorite search engine and sure enough, it was a variation on the penny trick used for MANY years to to teach children the value of saving. In short, it's all about compounding. 1 penny today, 2 tomorrow, and soon enough, MONEY!!
Only in this case, it's $1 this week, (not a problem) $2 next week, (still not a problem) and so on. 52 weeks later, MONEY!
You can see the chart here.
What no one seems to remember is that this money has to come from somewhere. And when you are on a tight budget, it's difficult to say where the money will come from. Sure, I can come up with $1 for this week, and maybe $2 next week, but when we start getting into the $5 and the $10, it gets a little more difficult. In fact, you start risking dipping into my grocery or gas fund.
By week $40, you just took both my grocery AND gas fund. In Week 50, there's no more money for the dog and the bird to eat. Sure, I have saved over $1,000, but I broke my budget doing it. Sound extreme? from what I see, for many Americans, it's reality.
I find it easier to build a specific amount directly into my budget. I put $30 per week on automatic withdrawl. I've had to learn to check each week on Friday to ensure that the money will be in there to be removed on Monday, but since I started doing that, I haven't overdrawn. The one time I was going to, I went ahead and put a stop on the transfer.
Over all, at $30 per week, for 52 weeks, I save over $1,500. Which is actually not too much more than the 52 week challenge, but I also don't have to worry about where I'm going to find that cash (if I have it, and it's not in an envelope, I'm going to spend it somewhere) it's already allocated.
Do what works for you, but I've put quite a bit of money away over the years this way and give myself regular raises. It seems to be one of the few financial things I've done right!
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Hmm. choices, choices.
Since I am coming to understand that while my desire for things and experiences is infinite, my income is not, I'm finding myself having to make choices.
I'm not really very good at making choices. Too many options and I shut down. It's another of the many things I struggle with on a daily basis. I've learned to limit my own choices so as not to be annoying when I can't decide what I want to order off a menu (if it comes down to it, I will close my eyes and point) and try to help other people deal with my indecision by explaining that I need three choices, and I will pick from there. Any more than that and I am likely to go blank and take so long to decide that we may as well just starve. If you ask me what I want to do today, chances are I'm going to look at you like a deer in the headlights because while I may know what I want to do with my day by myself, I likely have no idea what I want to do WITH someone. So I will defer to your idea OR try and come up with something you will enjoy. This is probably the reason why, when the inner brat starts in, I give in, because it's just NICE to be passionate about wanting something.
Some choices are logical and I can use hard data to help me make a decision.
Other times, it's not so easy.
I'm finding myself torn between Netflix and a Gym Membership.
Netflix, of course, provides a great deal of entertainment at my house. I like getting a DVD in the mail every few days and use it as an opportunity for either downtime or crafting time on the couch. In other words, Netflix = Relaxation. I don't have cable so barring the DVDs and Videos I have been watching over and over for years, Netflix is my source for new entertainment. I have recently been watching Hulu, but that is limited to what is available. And if it's a current show, and I don't know the back story, well, I may as well have Netflix.
The Gym would save me about $2 per month. And I would love to go. I felt GREAT during those three months I gave myself for my birthday and would have kept on going if I hadn't run into the money wall. I found a place that is the same distance away as the community center with a pool, better hours and options, and for $20 less per month. The Gym = health. But it also means a little less time with the pup and less down time, which, I think we all need.
I feel like I am building a character on The Sims or a similar geeky game. Where I have finite funds and finite personal resource and I have to build myself into the best person I can. No wonder those games are so popular; allocating the resources is as easy as clicking an icon.
In case you are wondering why I don't use Derby as my exercise, my injuries are such that I can only participate in SOME of the drills which means I spend a lot of time helping with Fresh Meat. I don't get a lot of exercise that way (I DO get a lot of personal satisfaction though!). In a 2 hour practice, I'm lucky to get 30 minutes of hard exercise. Typically, it's closer to 15. In addition to that, I plateaued with skating, fitnesswise. I need to change it up to get the right amount of exercise in order to meet my heath and weight loss goals. This means that I can't JUST skate, I need other forms of exercise as well. Since I don't like jogging about the neighborhood, and I'm likely to get distracted at home, the gym is my best choice for a well rounded exercise regime.
It would be easy if there weren't benefits to both. I do consider the Library an option for movies, I just don't know if they have a good selection. And I'm bad about returning things. I owe them money. On the flip side, I work less than a block from one! So there really isn't a good excuse there.
Both is not currently an option. Sigh.
I'm not really very good at making choices. Too many options and I shut down. It's another of the many things I struggle with on a daily basis. I've learned to limit my own choices so as not to be annoying when I can't decide what I want to order off a menu (if it comes down to it, I will close my eyes and point) and try to help other people deal with my indecision by explaining that I need three choices, and I will pick from there. Any more than that and I am likely to go blank and take so long to decide that we may as well just starve. If you ask me what I want to do today, chances are I'm going to look at you like a deer in the headlights because while I may know what I want to do with my day by myself, I likely have no idea what I want to do WITH someone. So I will defer to your idea OR try and come up with something you will enjoy. This is probably the reason why, when the inner brat starts in, I give in, because it's just NICE to be passionate about wanting something.
Some choices are logical and I can use hard data to help me make a decision.
Other times, it's not so easy.
I'm finding myself torn between Netflix and a Gym Membership.
Netflix, of course, provides a great deal of entertainment at my house. I like getting a DVD in the mail every few days and use it as an opportunity for either downtime or crafting time on the couch. In other words, Netflix = Relaxation. I don't have cable so barring the DVDs and Videos I have been watching over and over for years, Netflix is my source for new entertainment. I have recently been watching Hulu, but that is limited to what is available. And if it's a current show, and I don't know the back story, well, I may as well have Netflix.
The Gym would save me about $2 per month. And I would love to go. I felt GREAT during those three months I gave myself for my birthday and would have kept on going if I hadn't run into the money wall. I found a place that is the same distance away as the community center with a pool, better hours and options, and for $20 less per month. The Gym = health. But it also means a little less time with the pup and less down time, which, I think we all need.
I feel like I am building a character on The Sims or a similar geeky game. Where I have finite funds and finite personal resource and I have to build myself into the best person I can. No wonder those games are so popular; allocating the resources is as easy as clicking an icon.
In case you are wondering why I don't use Derby as my exercise, my injuries are such that I can only participate in SOME of the drills which means I spend a lot of time helping with Fresh Meat. I don't get a lot of exercise that way (I DO get a lot of personal satisfaction though!). In a 2 hour practice, I'm lucky to get 30 minutes of hard exercise. Typically, it's closer to 15. In addition to that, I plateaued with skating, fitnesswise. I need to change it up to get the right amount of exercise in order to meet my heath and weight loss goals. This means that I can't JUST skate, I need other forms of exercise as well. Since I don't like jogging about the neighborhood, and I'm likely to get distracted at home, the gym is my best choice for a well rounded exercise regime.
It would be easy if there weren't benefits to both. I do consider the Library an option for movies, I just don't know if they have a good selection. And I'm bad about returning things. I owe them money. On the flip side, I work less than a block from one! So there really isn't a good excuse there.
Both is not currently an option. Sigh.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Support System
It's amazing how when you start out on a journey, you don't know you will need a support system until it comes out of the woodwork to help you.
I'm fortunate. I got to watch Bratty for a long time before I decided that I wanted a similar level of financial comfort as she enjoys. She isn't wealthy, but she doesn't sweat it if she forgets her lunch at home and has to order delivery. She's kind enough to listen when I tell her all about my latest scheme for saving money, usually something she's already done, and doesn't fault me when I splurge a little on something.
I'm fortunate. My Wife gets it too. As a recent college graduate, she has to watch her pennies carefully. So if I tell her I can't come out because it's not in the budget, she gets it. While I am deeply honored that I have friends who want my company so much that they are willing to ignore my budget shortfalls and will try to convince me to go out, what I need is people who will accept that I can't right now, so that I CAN in the future.
I found a surprising ally in my journey the other night in my friend Russ. It was he that got to hear the brunt of my inner child's hamburger temper tantrum the other night because we happened to be texting when it hit. Russ has seen all of my food related issues. He's seen me "normal", he's seen me famished and unsure what I want, just that I need to eat SOMETHING and soon. And now, he's seen the ugly flip side of that. It happens, I laugh about it, I try to avoid the behavior, like so many bad behaviors I have.
Russ considered taking me out to dinner that night so that I could have a burger and fries. But he realized that by doing so, he wasn't helping me. And he's right. Spending his money doesn't fix the problem where I overspend mine. He even said I sounded like a 5 year old throwing a tantrum. He has kids, he knows that you can't give them what they want, even when that kid is hiding in the body of an adult. I laughed, I saw that too. I agreed with him that those temper tantrums need to stop, that although they are funny, and stem from my body needing specific nourishment (there are exceptions to this), it can be annoying and expensive to give into those. I do not wish to be spoiled and demanding in any way, shape or form, and I am fortunate to have friends that not only know that, but want to help me on my financial journey so that I can avoid being that way.
I'm fortunate. I got to watch Bratty for a long time before I decided that I wanted a similar level of financial comfort as she enjoys. She isn't wealthy, but she doesn't sweat it if she forgets her lunch at home and has to order delivery. She's kind enough to listen when I tell her all about my latest scheme for saving money, usually something she's already done, and doesn't fault me when I splurge a little on something.
I'm fortunate. My Wife gets it too. As a recent college graduate, she has to watch her pennies carefully. So if I tell her I can't come out because it's not in the budget, she gets it. While I am deeply honored that I have friends who want my company so much that they are willing to ignore my budget shortfalls and will try to convince me to go out, what I need is people who will accept that I can't right now, so that I CAN in the future.
I found a surprising ally in my journey the other night in my friend Russ. It was he that got to hear the brunt of my inner child's hamburger temper tantrum the other night because we happened to be texting when it hit. Russ has seen all of my food related issues. He's seen me "normal", he's seen me famished and unsure what I want, just that I need to eat SOMETHING and soon. And now, he's seen the ugly flip side of that. It happens, I laugh about it, I try to avoid the behavior, like so many bad behaviors I have.
Russ considered taking me out to dinner that night so that I could have a burger and fries. But he realized that by doing so, he wasn't helping me. And he's right. Spending his money doesn't fix the problem where I overspend mine. He even said I sounded like a 5 year old throwing a tantrum. He has kids, he knows that you can't give them what they want, even when that kid is hiding in the body of an adult. I laughed, I saw that too. I agreed with him that those temper tantrums need to stop, that although they are funny, and stem from my body needing specific nourishment (there are exceptions to this), it can be annoying and expensive to give into those. I do not wish to be spoiled and demanding in any way, shape or form, and I am fortunate to have friends that not only know that, but want to help me on my financial journey so that I can avoid being that way.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
You're in charge, so act like it
I don't talk about Derby very often because I don't want to talk shit and then deal with the aftermath. As we know, there is always aftermath. It's funny how I will talk all day about how I am rearranging my money and I don't talk about two things that affect me on a day to day basis. Derby and Men.
Today (which is actually a couple of days ago for you) I ran practice.
I've done this before, with just the Reno Roller Girls, but since practice space is scarce in this town, we have been sharing the Rink with the Battle Born Derby Demons. It seems to be working out pretty well for both leagues.
Since our Freshmeat coach had to bow out, I stepped up to watch over Freshmeat as long as I have a syllabus. I don't mind working with FM because they are still really open to learning. It's a place where I feel like I can do the most good with the least amount of attitude.
When I looked over the syllabus, it turned out that I was running the whole practice. Vets, Freshmeat, everyone. Oh my.
So I owned it. And really, for the most part, it went just fine. But with any situation where you have strong heads, there were a couple of times that I had to assert myself. When some of the girls decided during an endurance drill that they were going to throw in some blocking, I had to put a stop to it. While it is true that they hit me while they were doing it, that's not why. I can take a hit (I wasn't wearing most of my pads though so this wasn't wise) but there were untested skaters out there that aren't ready. AND veteran skaters who weren't in a mindset for contact.
The ladies settled down without a fuss. Then there were a couple who decided that they needed to skate in the opposite direction (this keeps our bodies even. It is important, but everyone needs to be going in the same direction together) I reminded them that doing this would screw up the skaters going in the correct direction so they left the track to do their own thing. I had to call them back. Twice. I was nice about it, but really? We're adults and should able to follow the leader without wandering off.
All in all, it was a good practice. And I am proud of myself for calling out the skaters that decided they didn't have to do what everyone else was doing. Being in charge isn't easy, but I faked it. And I think it will be easier in the future.
Today (which is actually a couple of days ago for you) I ran practice.
I've done this before, with just the Reno Roller Girls, but since practice space is scarce in this town, we have been sharing the Rink with the Battle Born Derby Demons. It seems to be working out pretty well for both leagues.
Since our Freshmeat coach had to bow out, I stepped up to watch over Freshmeat as long as I have a syllabus. I don't mind working with FM because they are still really open to learning. It's a place where I feel like I can do the most good with the least amount of attitude.
When I looked over the syllabus, it turned out that I was running the whole practice. Vets, Freshmeat, everyone. Oh my.
So I owned it. And really, for the most part, it went just fine. But with any situation where you have strong heads, there were a couple of times that I had to assert myself. When some of the girls decided during an endurance drill that they were going to throw in some blocking, I had to put a stop to it. While it is true that they hit me while they were doing it, that's not why. I can take a hit (I wasn't wearing most of my pads though so this wasn't wise) but there were untested skaters out there that aren't ready. AND veteran skaters who weren't in a mindset for contact.
The ladies settled down without a fuss. Then there were a couple who decided that they needed to skate in the opposite direction (this keeps our bodies even. It is important, but everyone needs to be going in the same direction together) I reminded them that doing this would screw up the skaters going in the correct direction so they left the track to do their own thing. I had to call them back. Twice. I was nice about it, but really? We're adults and should able to follow the leader without wandering off.
All in all, it was a good practice. And I am proud of myself for calling out the skaters that decided they didn't have to do what everyone else was doing. Being in charge isn't easy, but I faked it. And I think it will be easier in the future.
Wednesday, January 09, 2013
Sometimes, I think I sound needy when I'm not. But Sometimes, I kind of am.
Saturday I spent most of my day in the Studio cleaning and organizing, a project that started last weekend but wasn't done this weekend. In between lifting and carrying, I would check my facebook. Saw one post from my wife that said she was at Six Flags for the second time that week.
Two things went through my brain.
1. I have a free ticket from buying a pass last week. She totally should have grabbed it from me! (this was posted to facebook)
2. How come I wasn't invited? (this was NOT posted to facebook!)
I hate to be left out. Hate it. This is an issue I've dealt with since childhood and I am actively working on fixing it. If people are having fun, I want to be there. If they are hanging out, I want to be there. You never know when something exciting is happening. Thus far, the only time I don't pout about being left out is when I'm out doing something equally fun. I can be unreasonable, but generally, the logic of knowing that I can't be in two places at one time wins out. Add all that to my insecurity about whether people like me in general, and you can see where a flip out is possible. I try to hide those. I'm not going to pretend that they haven't happened.
This has affected friendships. It has affected relationships. I actively work on dealing with these issues.
So, once I got over the initial reaction to not being invited, I went back to my cleaning and it wasn't too long before I realized a couple of things.
1. Another trip to Six Flags this week is not in my budget. In fact, the trip I took last week wiped out my entertainment budget for the next several months. So unless I can teleport to the park and back for free and learn to survive without food while I am out, I can't really afford to go.
2. If I were at Six Flags playing, I wouldn't be cleaning, and I'm really proud to have focused that time and energy on a project that I have essentially been putting off for three years.
Happy, I returned to my previously scheduled activity. I no longer felt left out, I felt a bit relieved that I WASN'T invited because I would have gone if I was, and just extended my entertainment budget out another month. This is no way to stay on a budget!! (BTW, the reasoning for not being asked had ABSOLUTELY nothing to do with me as a person, which, is probably the case 99% of the time)
I mentioned it to my wife yesterday when I called her after practice, and as I told her the story, and she defended her actions, I realized that I sure did sound needy. And that even though I was really okay with the situation, it may not sound that way. And that by telling her how it made me feel, she might be hearing "you hurt my feelings" not "I'm glad you had a good time, I'm really glad I stayed at home and worked on my house"
Somewhere along the line, I have discovered that I have a need to tell everyone what I am thinking all the time. All the details. And to those who don't know me (you know, like my family) comments might come across wrong. "Your shampoo makes my hair fluffy!" might be taken as "your amenities suck" rather than "Ha, ha! everyone laugh at my wafro!", which is what I really mean.
I don't know. Maybe I'm worrying about stupid stuff too much. But a bit of censoring won't hurt around people who don't know me yet (and a bit around people who do) AND it will be good to remember that chances are, whatever it is, isn't personal. It's just how things work out sometimes.
Two things went through my brain.
1. I have a free ticket from buying a pass last week. She totally should have grabbed it from me! (this was posted to facebook)
2. How come I wasn't invited? (this was NOT posted to facebook!)
I hate to be left out. Hate it. This is an issue I've dealt with since childhood and I am actively working on fixing it. If people are having fun, I want to be there. If they are hanging out, I want to be there. You never know when something exciting is happening. Thus far, the only time I don't pout about being left out is when I'm out doing something equally fun. I can be unreasonable, but generally, the logic of knowing that I can't be in two places at one time wins out. Add all that to my insecurity about whether people like me in general, and you can see where a flip out is possible. I try to hide those. I'm not going to pretend that they haven't happened.
This has affected friendships. It has affected relationships. I actively work on dealing with these issues.
So, once I got over the initial reaction to not being invited, I went back to my cleaning and it wasn't too long before I realized a couple of things.
1. Another trip to Six Flags this week is not in my budget. In fact, the trip I took last week wiped out my entertainment budget for the next several months. So unless I can teleport to the park and back for free and learn to survive without food while I am out, I can't really afford to go.
2. If I were at Six Flags playing, I wouldn't be cleaning, and I'm really proud to have focused that time and energy on a project that I have essentially been putting off for three years.
Happy, I returned to my previously scheduled activity. I no longer felt left out, I felt a bit relieved that I WASN'T invited because I would have gone if I was, and just extended my entertainment budget out another month. This is no way to stay on a budget!! (BTW, the reasoning for not being asked had ABSOLUTELY nothing to do with me as a person, which, is probably the case 99% of the time)
I mentioned it to my wife yesterday when I called her after practice, and as I told her the story, and she defended her actions, I realized that I sure did sound needy. And that even though I was really okay with the situation, it may not sound that way. And that by telling her how it made me feel, she might be hearing "you hurt my feelings" not "I'm glad you had a good time, I'm really glad I stayed at home and worked on my house"
Somewhere along the line, I have discovered that I have a need to tell everyone what I am thinking all the time. All the details. And to those who don't know me (you know, like my family) comments might come across wrong. "Your shampoo makes my hair fluffy!" might be taken as "your amenities suck" rather than "Ha, ha! everyone laugh at my wafro!", which is what I really mean.
I don't know. Maybe I'm worrying about stupid stuff too much. But a bit of censoring won't hurt around people who don't know me yet (and a bit around people who do) AND it will be good to remember that chances are, whatever it is, isn't personal. It's just how things work out sometimes.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Random Blurb
I've been talking so much about stuff that is all dramatic. "Oh my goodness, my mom's losing her house and has too much stuff". "Oh my goodness, I don't know how to take care of myself". "Oh my goodness, I'm losing my mind and everything else with it"
So today I would just like to say, that I am happy overall. I'm looking out the window and seeing the snow blanketing the Sierras. I go home every night and snuggle my dog and talk to the bird. I watch TV and exercise. I cook myself yummy dinners and I take hot showers. I'm building my business and setting my life in order. I have good friends and a fantastic family.
I'm enjoying myself thoroughly. I don't have more drama than I can handle, and while it would be great to have a guy I could share all my good fortune with, but I'm okay with not right now.
I just thought I would share that. Because so often I worry that it sounds like I am whining or that I'm not happy. I'm changing the things I need to change, like the size of my debt and my thighs, (all right. I'm working harder on the debt) and I am having fun doing it.
I'm blessed, and I know it. Life is fantastic.
So today I would just like to say, that I am happy overall. I'm looking out the window and seeing the snow blanketing the Sierras. I go home every night and snuggle my dog and talk to the bird. I watch TV and exercise. I cook myself yummy dinners and I take hot showers. I'm building my business and setting my life in order. I have good friends and a fantastic family.
I'm enjoying myself thoroughly. I don't have more drama than I can handle, and while it would be great to have a guy I could share all my good fortune with, but I'm okay with not right now.
I just thought I would share that. Because so often I worry that it sounds like I am whining or that I'm not happy. I'm changing the things I need to change, like the size of my debt and my thighs, (all right. I'm working harder on the debt) and I am having fun doing it.
I'm blessed, and I know it. Life is fantastic.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Sometimes, Loss is a good thing
Losing my purse, (and no, I haven't found it) is quickly becoming the best thing that could have happened to me.
Aside from the fact that my video camera was in there, and some gift cards, and my IPOD DAMNIT! losing my purse may be the best thing that could happen to me right now. I got a phone call today that underlined this.
Here's the thing. I haven't been very good with my credit cards lately. If I want something, I get it, telling myself that I can pay it off quickly. This is good in theory until you realize that TOO many things handled that way add up quickly. And interest compounds. (I'm waiting for my next AMEX statement so I can look into personal consolidation loans. Better to pay one bill than 2 and at a lower interest rate)
Since I lost my credit cards with my purse, I can't use them. I have not called for replacements because NOT having them, forces me to live within my means. It sucks a little, but I'm surviving just fine. It's amazing all the things I would have bought if I could. I don't need them. In fact, I had a guest over a few nights ago who said that my house was more organized than he'd ever seen it before (except that odd pile of file cabinet and such in the dining room? Never mind). I've been purging and not adding. It's awesome. (It helps that I've been exercising constantly so I don't really have time to shop)
So, a little while ago I received a call from a company that sounded like my credit card company offering to lower my interest rate. Heck yeah I want to lower my interest rate! When I started talking to a live person, things started getting a little sketchy. It turns out, he wasn't calling from MY credit card company, he was calling from a company that would contact my credit card company and have them lower my rate. Well, that doesn't make very much sense since I could call them myself and ask for a lower rate. Sometimes they do that, sometimes they won't. The company he named was pretty generic sounding. He said they were in Orlando, FL but that he was calling from a call center. The number that dialed me was in San Marcos, CA. Whatever, I look up some pretty interesting businesses every day (Tiny's Wiener Emporium!!), but the bulk of them sound pretty normal. He started getting a little pissed when he asked for my credit card number and I couldn't give it to him. I don't have it. I can't find it, and I don't think it is on my statement, despite what he said. Which is GOOD. I don't want that information floating around for anyone to see. I'm at work. No access to the things he is looking for. He offered to give me his name, his ID number, all sorts of things to get my credit card number. I explained that he couldn't help me right now and finally said goodbye.
I looked up the business on Dunn and Bradstreet, it doesn't exist in Orlando. A search for the number on D&B pulls up a daycare. Maybe they exist but aren't listed, but I don't think so. I googled the number and discovered that I'm not the only one getting these calls. It reeked of SCAM, especially when he started getting pissed off at me for not giving him my numbers; if it smells that bad, it likely is.
Thank goodness I lost my purse somewhere in my house. I'm not saying that I would have given him the numbers, I would like to think I am smarter than that, but I would be willing to bet that there are plenty of people who do. Especially when he started getting angry that I wasn't giving up the info.
For those who might be google searching that number like I did, it's, (760) 204-4226 . The fellow I spoke to had an accent that sounded Indian or Pakistani to my untrained ear, which made him sound a bit more legit considering how many American call centers are located in Asia. The business name he gave me was Financial Advising Center in Orlando Florida
Aside from the fact that my video camera was in there, and some gift cards, and my IPOD DAMNIT! losing my purse may be the best thing that could happen to me right now. I got a phone call today that underlined this.
Here's the thing. I haven't been very good with my credit cards lately. If I want something, I get it, telling myself that I can pay it off quickly. This is good in theory until you realize that TOO many things handled that way add up quickly. And interest compounds. (I'm waiting for my next AMEX statement so I can look into personal consolidation loans. Better to pay one bill than 2 and at a lower interest rate)
Since I lost my credit cards with my purse, I can't use them. I have not called for replacements because NOT having them, forces me to live within my means. It sucks a little, but I'm surviving just fine. It's amazing all the things I would have bought if I could. I don't need them. In fact, I had a guest over a few nights ago who said that my house was more organized than he'd ever seen it before (except that odd pile of file cabinet and such in the dining room? Never mind). I've been purging and not adding. It's awesome. (It helps that I've been exercising constantly so I don't really have time to shop)
So, a little while ago I received a call from a company that sounded like my credit card company offering to lower my interest rate. Heck yeah I want to lower my interest rate! When I started talking to a live person, things started getting a little sketchy. It turns out, he wasn't calling from MY credit card company, he was calling from a company that would contact my credit card company and have them lower my rate. Well, that doesn't make very much sense since I could call them myself and ask for a lower rate. Sometimes they do that, sometimes they won't. The company he named was pretty generic sounding. He said they were in Orlando, FL but that he was calling from a call center. The number that dialed me was in San Marcos, CA. Whatever, I look up some pretty interesting businesses every day (Tiny's Wiener Emporium!!), but the bulk of them sound pretty normal. He started getting a little pissed when he asked for my credit card number and I couldn't give it to him. I don't have it. I can't find it, and I don't think it is on my statement, despite what he said. Which is GOOD. I don't want that information floating around for anyone to see. I'm at work. No access to the things he is looking for. He offered to give me his name, his ID number, all sorts of things to get my credit card number. I explained that he couldn't help me right now and finally said goodbye.
I looked up the business on Dunn and Bradstreet, it doesn't exist in Orlando. A search for the number on D&B pulls up a daycare. Maybe they exist but aren't listed, but I don't think so. I googled the number and discovered that I'm not the only one getting these calls. It reeked of SCAM, especially when he started getting pissed off at me for not giving him my numbers; if it smells that bad, it likely is.
Thank goodness I lost my purse somewhere in my house. I'm not saying that I would have given him the numbers, I would like to think I am smarter than that, but I would be willing to bet that there are plenty of people who do. Especially when he started getting angry that I wasn't giving up the info.
For those who might be google searching that number like I did, it's, (760) 204-4226 . The fellow I spoke to had an accent that sounded Indian or Pakistani to my untrained ear, which made him sound a bit more legit considering how many American call centers are located in Asia. The business name he gave me was Financial Advising Center in Orlando Florida
Tuesday, October 02, 2012
I am so very lucky
We listen to a lot of Rob, Arnie, and Dawn, a radio show in Sacramento here in the cube. Not only do they have a morning show, but you can go to their website and listen to reruns all day long. We listen to Reruns all day long. Sometimes, I'll catch a story, but for the most part, because it isn't loud enough for me to hear, I don't even notice its on until it isn't, when the sudden silence causes me to pull my head out of computerland and remark on the silence.
Every so often though, I tune in and listen to whatever is going on over on Bratty's side of the world. Today (on rerun) I overheard a story about a woman who's in laws treat her son from a previous marriage (and her) pretty badly while being kind to the children from her current marriage.
And I remembered, again, how lucky I am that my mom married into the family she did.
I am quite blessed with grandparents.
I talk a lot about my father's mom, Ma, but not as much about my mom's parents. And I don't think I have ever mentioned Nana and Grandpa. It's not for lack of love for them.
This post though, this one is for Nanathana and Garypa. (which mixed their given names with grandparent titles and was a perfect solution for two little girls who suddenly found themselves with another set of grandparents and without a clue what to call them)
When my mom married their son, I was 5 and Seester was 9. Pie and Brother weren't even possible yet. We were the first grandchildren. A ready made pair with countless barbies and a distant relationship with our father's family. We, along with sister-cousin Lisa would take over the house, playing with anything that got in our way. We were mermaids in the jacuzzi. We rode skateboards in the alley, and we took over the family room with our Barbies. We went to Buford's candy store and ate Phony Baloney. Soon, another set of cousins came along and when they learned to talk, names had to be shortened to accommodate young child speaking patterns. Suddenly, we had a Nana and a Grandpa.
More children joined the family over the years. Some, the kind of grandchildren (and now great grandchildren!) that are related, some joined the family through marriage.
One of the wonderful things about Nana and Grandpa is that we all got treated the same. They are proud grandparents of ALL of us and no one was treated better for having shared the same genes. At least, not that I have ever noticed.
My parents are now divorced and have been for far longer then they were married. Dadi remarried and now there's two more grandchildren in Nana and Grandpa's brood. They are my brother and sister. My mom is invited to the annual Christmas party.
My family taught me a very important lesson. That blood relation doesn't matter when you love each other and that you don't divorce children. I was blessed to be embraced by a family who feels this way. I'm glad I learned this lesson from them instead of the other kind of people, who don't understand that you can love a child, even if they are not descended from you.
Every so often though, I tune in and listen to whatever is going on over on Bratty's side of the world. Today (on rerun) I overheard a story about a woman who's in laws treat her son from a previous marriage (and her) pretty badly while being kind to the children from her current marriage.
And I remembered, again, how lucky I am that my mom married into the family she did.
I am quite blessed with grandparents.
I talk a lot about my father's mom, Ma, but not as much about my mom's parents. And I don't think I have ever mentioned Nana and Grandpa. It's not for lack of love for them.
This post though, this one is for Nanathana and Garypa. (which mixed their given names with grandparent titles and was a perfect solution for two little girls who suddenly found themselves with another set of grandparents and without a clue what to call them)
When my mom married their son, I was 5 and Seester was 9. Pie and Brother weren't even possible yet. We were the first grandchildren. A ready made pair with countless barbies and a distant relationship with our father's family. We, along with sister-cousin Lisa would take over the house, playing with anything that got in our way. We were mermaids in the jacuzzi. We rode skateboards in the alley, and we took over the family room with our Barbies. We went to Buford's candy store and ate Phony Baloney. Soon, another set of cousins came along and when they learned to talk, names had to be shortened to accommodate young child speaking patterns. Suddenly, we had a Nana and a Grandpa.
More children joined the family over the years. Some, the kind of grandchildren (and now great grandchildren!) that are related, some joined the family through marriage.
One of the wonderful things about Nana and Grandpa is that we all got treated the same. They are proud grandparents of ALL of us and no one was treated better for having shared the same genes. At least, not that I have ever noticed.
My parents are now divorced and have been for far longer then they were married. Dadi remarried and now there's two more grandchildren in Nana and Grandpa's brood. They are my brother and sister. My mom is invited to the annual Christmas party.
My family taught me a very important lesson. That blood relation doesn't matter when you love each other and that you don't divorce children. I was blessed to be embraced by a family who feels this way. I'm glad I learned this lesson from them instead of the other kind of people, who don't understand that you can love a child, even if they are not descended from you.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Just call me Spiderman. Only I'ma girl.
"To say that the Buffalo truly survived would be only partly accurate"
I was, as a child, a terrible student. Like Peter Parker, I was brilliant, but lazy. Unlike Peter Parker, I was not moonlighting as a superhero, rather, I was, like most children. Lazy. There was playing or reading to be done so IF I did my homework, I took shortcuts. My parents (as you know) were kind of the opposite of helicopter parents. Once I hit a certain age, I was expected to handle my shit so they only really seemed to know what I was up to if someone complained.
They were on a first name basis with my teachers from probably 2nd grade. There were nights when I dreaded the phone ringing and I always knew when it was a teacher. Sometimes I knew it was coming, sometimes I didn't.
It wasn't just homework, schoolwork was BORING and TEDIOUS (that was totally a spelling word when I was a 4th grader.) and I would have rather been reading. The only time I could really get into my classwork (other than reading time) was when we did science experiments. Those didn't feel like work, they felt like playing. Some things never change. While nothing can really excuse the laziness factor, I also know now that I didn't learn well in a traditional school environment. Even though I was in the smart kids classes, it rarely felt like a challenge so much as it felt like more work. With 36 kids in a class, I also didn't get the one on one attention that I needed to fully understand things like long division. Presented differently, I might have gotten it. If I had memorized my multiplication tables (why did I miss this? I was rarely sick), it likely would have been easier. But you sit a child down with 3 mimeographed pages of long division problems, and they don't actually get it and they are too embarrassed to ask questions, well, it's a recipe for incomplete assignments and a close relationship between my parents and teachers.
The first sentence of this rambling post is actually important.
I didn't really like doing news reports. Each week we had to get up in front of our class and give a current event or report on something. This sounds like an easy assignment, but my family didn't get the newspaper, which meant I had to get creative. We WERE allowed to do some sort of science-y demonstration, but another girl in my class had the same "Science Experiments for Kids" book I had so she tended to have that covered. Plus, a lot of the projects were not easily demonstrated. How do you show 35 other kids how to make their own kaleidoscope?
And so you got, the infamous dribble glass report.
I had a book that really sounded legit. I mean, how is a kid supposed to know the difference between nonfiction and creative nonfiction? So one day, I'm looking through the book trying to find something to do for my news report and I came across a chapter in the book on dribble glasses. I was ten, it sounded cool, so I wrote up my report and carefully "drilled" a hole in the bottom of a glass for demonstrative purposes.
I got as far as dribbling water all over the reading rug and the opening announcement of "This is a Dribble Glass" before my teacher pulled me from the front of the room. What I thought was an appropriate and interesting article was apparently NOT okay. I was hurt that I had actually completed an assignment and was excited to share, but that I didn't even get into the meat of the report before I was yanked. The phone rang that evening, loud and clear.
My teacher set me up with a classmate who's reports were always amazing. She was a good friend of mine so I was excited to have a reason to hang out with her. We went to the library and did a research report on American Bison. It had charts and pictures and I had one line I had to memorize. Katie did most of the work, but I was part of it and I think that was the only time I did well in anything other than PE. (I excelled at running back then)
Katie showed me the value of going above and beyond. I don't think I did another current event (at least not that in depth and certainly nothing that stuck with me) and I certainly didn't stop being lazy or getting into trouble at school, but that report will remind me always as an example of how things should be done. My parents always told us that it was not okay to do anything half way, and made sure that our chores were completed correctly, but didn't really show us how that translated out of the home.
I will always be grateful to Katie for helping me out. I've been lucky that way, to have the kind of friends that step up and help. I can only hope that I do the same.
By the way, my teacher made fun of me for months about that dribble glass, never giving me the opportunity to explain that there was more to it (she assumed that holding up the dripping glass was all I had to present). Since she brought it up, my classmates teased me about it too. I haven't forgotten what it feels like to be treated like a fuck up all the time. At the end of my 5th grade year, I was happy to move along to another class and the opportunity to do better. That teacher offered me the opportunity to stay behind a year. She said she felt like I was too immature to continue on to middle school. I chose to move forward. I hope I always do.
I was, as a child, a terrible student. Like Peter Parker, I was brilliant, but lazy. Unlike Peter Parker, I was not moonlighting as a superhero, rather, I was, like most children. Lazy. There was playing or reading to be done so IF I did my homework, I took shortcuts. My parents (as you know) were kind of the opposite of helicopter parents. Once I hit a certain age, I was expected to handle my shit so they only really seemed to know what I was up to if someone complained.
They were on a first name basis with my teachers from probably 2nd grade. There were nights when I dreaded the phone ringing and I always knew when it was a teacher. Sometimes I knew it was coming, sometimes I didn't.
It wasn't just homework, schoolwork was BORING and TEDIOUS (that was totally a spelling word when I was a 4th grader.) and I would have rather been reading. The only time I could really get into my classwork (other than reading time) was when we did science experiments. Those didn't feel like work, they felt like playing. Some things never change. While nothing can really excuse the laziness factor, I also know now that I didn't learn well in a traditional school environment. Even though I was in the smart kids classes, it rarely felt like a challenge so much as it felt like more work. With 36 kids in a class, I also didn't get the one on one attention that I needed to fully understand things like long division. Presented differently, I might have gotten it. If I had memorized my multiplication tables (why did I miss this? I was rarely sick), it likely would have been easier. But you sit a child down with 3 mimeographed pages of long division problems, and they don't actually get it and they are too embarrassed to ask questions, well, it's a recipe for incomplete assignments and a close relationship between my parents and teachers.
The first sentence of this rambling post is actually important.
I didn't really like doing news reports. Each week we had to get up in front of our class and give a current event or report on something. This sounds like an easy assignment, but my family didn't get the newspaper, which meant I had to get creative. We WERE allowed to do some sort of science-y demonstration, but another girl in my class had the same "Science Experiments for Kids" book I had so she tended to have that covered. Plus, a lot of the projects were not easily demonstrated. How do you show 35 other kids how to make their own kaleidoscope?
And so you got, the infamous dribble glass report.
I had a book that really sounded legit. I mean, how is a kid supposed to know the difference between nonfiction and creative nonfiction? So one day, I'm looking through the book trying to find something to do for my news report and I came across a chapter in the book on dribble glasses. I was ten, it sounded cool, so I wrote up my report and carefully "drilled" a hole in the bottom of a glass for demonstrative purposes.
I got as far as dribbling water all over the reading rug and the opening announcement of "This is a Dribble Glass" before my teacher pulled me from the front of the room. What I thought was an appropriate and interesting article was apparently NOT okay. I was hurt that I had actually completed an assignment and was excited to share, but that I didn't even get into the meat of the report before I was yanked. The phone rang that evening, loud and clear.
My teacher set me up with a classmate who's reports were always amazing. She was a good friend of mine so I was excited to have a reason to hang out with her. We went to the library and did a research report on American Bison. It had charts and pictures and I had one line I had to memorize. Katie did most of the work, but I was part of it and I think that was the only time I did well in anything other than PE. (I excelled at running back then)
Katie showed me the value of going above and beyond. I don't think I did another current event (at least not that in depth and certainly nothing that stuck with me) and I certainly didn't stop being lazy or getting into trouble at school, but that report will remind me always as an example of how things should be done. My parents always told us that it was not okay to do anything half way, and made sure that our chores were completed correctly, but didn't really show us how that translated out of the home.
I will always be grateful to Katie for helping me out. I've been lucky that way, to have the kind of friends that step up and help. I can only hope that I do the same.
By the way, my teacher made fun of me for months about that dribble glass, never giving me the opportunity to explain that there was more to it (she assumed that holding up the dripping glass was all I had to present). Since she brought it up, my classmates teased me about it too. I haven't forgotten what it feels like to be treated like a fuck up all the time. At the end of my 5th grade year, I was happy to move along to another class and the opportunity to do better. That teacher offered me the opportunity to stay behind a year. She said she felt like I was too immature to continue on to middle school. I chose to move forward. I hope I always do.
Wednesday, September 05, 2012
Please treat me like a lady
I've been rolling this around in my head like marbles in a glass jar since last night. Not only am I not sure how to approach it but I am not sure if perhaps it is just me. If maybe I missed something (else) in my upbringing that said that this is normal and that I am not. But I don't think so. I don't think so because it's upsetting and makes me feel icky. And in that case, I can generally say with certainty, that it's not me, I'm just the one who is calling out for change.
By the way, I know exactly where my marbles are. My purse, on the other hand, is still missing.
I'm talking about the way I am treated by men. Not all men, mostly men my age. Some that I have dated, some I am not interested in that way.
I look at myself and ask how I can possibly be inviting this, and I really don't think I do.
Last night I got into a conversation with a fellow through the game I am allowing to suck my time away on Facebook. Within half an hour we went from "how's life in NYC" to "Maybe I'll cook you breakfast sometime" There was no innuendo. There was no discussion on what we were wearing. Sure, we might have been talking about cooking, but I'm more interested in trying out his recipe for chicken marsala than finding out if he makes good pancakes.
Breakfast. I know what that means. I'm not an idiot. How nice that you want to sleep with me, but really? I've never met this man in my life and you are talking about cooking me breakfast? Then you ask about my "tits and ass"? REALLY? Do I have them?? (I replied that I'm a woman I have them.)
I'd write it off as "this guy is an asshole" but honestly, I have been running into similar things for many years. And it was underlined by another fellow I was talking to last night who is just a friend, but in the process of trying to make me blush; he brought up a couple of things that I didn't think was appropriate in a platonic conversation. I brushed them off, but...
Why in the world would a man make a reference about me riding lawnmowers like I would a man? What does it matter what kind of underwear I wear?
What makes it any one's business what I do beyond closed doors? I try not to talk about my sex life (except in reference to not having one, but even then, not so much), it's no one's business - as far as anyone is concerned, I am neuter unless I choose to tell you otherwise. I think of you the same way unless I am sleeping with you or hoping to.
Is that it then? Do men only talk to me because they are hoping to sleep with me? Was the last boy correct when he said that people only talk to me if they want something? That was not the world I was brought up in. In my family, we talk to everyone. It's hard for me to understand that every person who approaches me wants something from me. And that idea makes me want to retreat into my shell and stay there.
Except that it's not just acquaintances and men on the Internet. (who seem to think that if I am talking to them that I want to sleep with them.) There are a couple of men that I have dated who, in hindsight, treated me more like a bit of meat rather than a partner with boundaries. Like the one who tried to grab a handful of hooha in the middle of a party. And the one who, recently, sent me text letting me know that he had an erotic dream about me. We haven't dated in awhile. He has a girlfriend. I still haven't mentioned that it's over between the last boy and I, so as far as he's concerned, I still have someone in my life. Ok, that's the same guy. But there are other examples with other people where I look back and I think, wow. He didn't respect me at all.
We watch TV shows like Mad Men and marvel at how chauvinistic the men are. We are amazed at the blatant sexual harassment that occurs in the workplace on that TV show, but as soon as we walk out the door of our workplace, suddenly all bets are off.
Perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps this is the manner in which men and women are supposed to interact. Perhaps my dislike of it is what keeps me from being in a lasting relationship.
It just seems to me that men and women should be able to show interest without making the other party feel dirty and used. It seems to me that I should be able to have a conversation with someone without sex entering the conversation. My mind is as dirty as the next one. And in the proper setting, I really let loose sometimes. Not to strangers. Not personal things. More along the lines of "That's what (s)he said" and other one liners that appeal to my inner 12 year old.
I suppose the trouble is, that I am looking for men to behave like gentlemen. And yes, I do think a woman should act like a lady. I try to. And I expect to be treated like one.
Why do I fear that I am going to continue to be disappointed?
By the way, I know exactly where my marbles are. My purse, on the other hand, is still missing.
I'm talking about the way I am treated by men. Not all men, mostly men my age. Some that I have dated, some I am not interested in that way.
I look at myself and ask how I can possibly be inviting this, and I really don't think I do.
Last night I got into a conversation with a fellow through the game I am allowing to suck my time away on Facebook. Within half an hour we went from "how's life in NYC" to "Maybe I'll cook you breakfast sometime" There was no innuendo. There was no discussion on what we were wearing. Sure, we might have been talking about cooking, but I'm more interested in trying out his recipe for chicken marsala than finding out if he makes good pancakes.
Breakfast. I know what that means. I'm not an idiot. How nice that you want to sleep with me, but really? I've never met this man in my life and you are talking about cooking me breakfast? Then you ask about my "tits and ass"? REALLY? Do I have them?? (I replied that I'm a woman I have them.)
I'd write it off as "this guy is an asshole" but honestly, I have been running into similar things for many years. And it was underlined by another fellow I was talking to last night who is just a friend, but in the process of trying to make me blush; he brought up a couple of things that I didn't think was appropriate in a platonic conversation. I brushed them off, but...
Why in the world would a man make a reference about me riding lawnmowers like I would a man? What does it matter what kind of underwear I wear?
What makes it any one's business what I do beyond closed doors? I try not to talk about my sex life (except in reference to not having one, but even then, not so much), it's no one's business - as far as anyone is concerned, I am neuter unless I choose to tell you otherwise. I think of you the same way unless I am sleeping with you or hoping to.
Is that it then? Do men only talk to me because they are hoping to sleep with me? Was the last boy correct when he said that people only talk to me if they want something? That was not the world I was brought up in. In my family, we talk to everyone. It's hard for me to understand that every person who approaches me wants something from me. And that idea makes me want to retreat into my shell and stay there.
Except that it's not just acquaintances and men on the Internet. (who seem to think that if I am talking to them that I want to sleep with them.) There are a couple of men that I have dated who, in hindsight, treated me more like a bit of meat rather than a partner with boundaries. Like the one who tried to grab a handful of hooha in the middle of a party. And the one who, recently, sent me text letting me know that he had an erotic dream about me. We haven't dated in awhile. He has a girlfriend. I still haven't mentioned that it's over between the last boy and I, so as far as he's concerned, I still have someone in my life. Ok, that's the same guy. But there are other examples with other people where I look back and I think, wow. He didn't respect me at all.
We watch TV shows like Mad Men and marvel at how chauvinistic the men are. We are amazed at the blatant sexual harassment that occurs in the workplace on that TV show, but as soon as we walk out the door of our workplace, suddenly all bets are off.
Perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps this is the manner in which men and women are supposed to interact. Perhaps my dislike of it is what keeps me from being in a lasting relationship.
It just seems to me that men and women should be able to show interest without making the other party feel dirty and used. It seems to me that I should be able to have a conversation with someone without sex entering the conversation. My mind is as dirty as the next one. And in the proper setting, I really let loose sometimes. Not to strangers. Not personal things. More along the lines of "That's what (s)he said" and other one liners that appeal to my inner 12 year old.
I suppose the trouble is, that I am looking for men to behave like gentlemen. And yes, I do think a woman should act like a lady. I try to. And I expect to be treated like one.
Why do I fear that I am going to continue to be disappointed?
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
I am a constant navel gazer
I am, if you haven't noticed, (and if you haven't noticed then you aren't paying attention) a navel gazer. NOT a Naval gazer, although, seriously, you can call me when you get OUT of the military. In a couple of months. (I'm kidding)
I look at myself, mentally, a lot. It's a bit of an obsession especially in the wake of relationship turmoil. Not just romantic relationships but also friends, family, and work associates. If there was drama, or hint of drama, or QUESTION of maybe some sort of personal discomfort between us, you can bet that I'll be in the shower talking to myself that night about how I behaved, whether I caused the situation through my actions, what I can do to change my behaviors in the future.
This might be crazy, but it's how I deal with life. It's how I realized that there are things that I just can't control. Things about myself, and most especially things about other people. Talking it out helps me tremendously. It's my therapy (along with singing it out, which, I suspect the neighbors can hear, but you know, I can pretend that they don't).
Sometimes, this leads to an apology on my part. Sometimes I just feel better, sometimes I tell myself that I will handle things differently next time, and if I am playing the "what if" scenarios in my head and getting all worked up over something, I remind myself that whatever it is will likely NEVER HAPPEN so I need to mellow out and move on.
This is going somewhere, I promise.
I'll be 35 next month. This means that I have been playing the dating game for a very long time. Statistically longer than most. I've broken a few hearts, and had mine smashed plenty. I've seen the romantic movies, heard the stories, read the books and I've taken the advice. I've tried online dating, meeting guys at work, through friends, in bars. I've been on blind dates, I've been on dates where the guy didn't look like his online picture, and dates where he did. I've had crushes that turned into something more, I've had hope, and I've recoiled.
After a relationship ended I have mourned for too long, not long enough, or just simply didn't find anyone interesting for years at a time. I've gotten into relationships because it was better than being alone (bad idea). I've tried dating more than one person at a time (WORSE idea). I've dated people I wasn't that into (absolutely the worst idea ever), and I have been on the wrong side of that painful situation. I've been casual, serious, a friend with benefits, and, I fear, a bootie call which is something I never intended to be and something I never want to be again.
I've tried looking and not looking.
With the exception of singles clubs (I looked into Sierra Club Singles but it just looked like SO MUCH WORK!! Meetings and outings and dues, OH MY!), speed dating, matchmaking services and attending church (which would be like LYING) I've tried just about every scenario that well meaning folks suggest.
I've stuck to my "list". I have deviated from it (bad idea! no need to settle!!). I've dated much older (well, much for me) and much younger (once again. We're talking like, 8 years in either direction)
Do you know what I learned about dating? I need to play by my own rules.
If I don't think I'm ready get involved someone? I shouldn't go out looking.
I can look or not look, it doesn't matter. The result will be the same.
My list is there for a reason, and it's not absurd, it's not being picky, it's knowing that there are things I am looking for in a partner and that those things are important to me.
Just because a fella meets all the criteria on the list, doesn't make him right for me. (this one is a tough one. REALLY tough. like, I want to cry just typing it out because it was a PAINFUL lesson. A lesson I've been slapped in the face with several times.)
If I am unhappy about something, there's probably a valid reason. And I need to bring it up so we can work it out before it turns ugly. I am NOT a pretty crier.
Bootie call agreements are not for me. Neither is casual. I need both parties to be all in and working at it. I know that dating is the trial period before deciding whether a person is someone you want to spend your life with. But when you find yourself at home more often than not knowing that the person you are seeing isn't as into you as you are into them, it hurts. My Seester once said something to me when I was mourning too long. She asked, "Why do you want to be with someone who doesn't want to be with you?" She was right. I DON'T want to be with someone who doesn't want to be with me. Sometimes, it just takes awhile to realize that's what is going on. If he's not treating me like I matter in his world, I probably don't. As my wife once asked about a different man, "Is this really better than being alone?" No. It isn't. I'd rather be alone than miserable over a man who is treating me like I'm only good for one thing when it is convenient for him. I wouldn't treat someone else like that, why should I allow it for me?
Some might say that it is silly to try so hard to find Mr Right. That I should learn to be happy with who I am. That I need to love myself before I can be loved by someone.
I call Bullshit. I know that I will always have room to improve. I can be happy with myself while still admitting that I have flaws. No one is perfect and if you are trying to love yourself the JUST way you are, then you're giving up on the pursuit of self discovery and improvement. I want to be the best person I can be, alone or with someone. And as far as trying so hard? I realized the other day that there is a biological need to have a partner. There are only so many biological things I can ignore.
Humans weren't meant to be alone. We are community creatures. If we were meant to be alone all the time, we wouldn't have a drive to find a partner. I know how to be alone. I've quite literally spent years without a romantic attachment. I know who I am when I am by myself. I navel gaze enough to know when that person is vastly different than the person I am when I am with someone.
When they are vastly different people, I need to walk away. And go have a long talk with myself in the shower.
I look at myself, mentally, a lot. It's a bit of an obsession especially in the wake of relationship turmoil. Not just romantic relationships but also friends, family, and work associates. If there was drama, or hint of drama, or QUESTION of maybe some sort of personal discomfort between us, you can bet that I'll be in the shower talking to myself that night about how I behaved, whether I caused the situation through my actions, what I can do to change my behaviors in the future.
This might be crazy, but it's how I deal with life. It's how I realized that there are things that I just can't control. Things about myself, and most especially things about other people. Talking it out helps me tremendously. It's my therapy (along with singing it out, which, I suspect the neighbors can hear, but you know, I can pretend that they don't).
Sometimes, this leads to an apology on my part. Sometimes I just feel better, sometimes I tell myself that I will handle things differently next time, and if I am playing the "what if" scenarios in my head and getting all worked up over something, I remind myself that whatever it is will likely NEVER HAPPEN so I need to mellow out and move on.
This is going somewhere, I promise.
I'll be 35 next month. This means that I have been playing the dating game for a very long time. Statistically longer than most. I've broken a few hearts, and had mine smashed plenty. I've seen the romantic movies, heard the stories, read the books and I've taken the advice. I've tried online dating, meeting guys at work, through friends, in bars. I've been on blind dates, I've been on dates where the guy didn't look like his online picture, and dates where he did. I've had crushes that turned into something more, I've had hope, and I've recoiled.
After a relationship ended I have mourned for too long, not long enough, or just simply didn't find anyone interesting for years at a time. I've gotten into relationships because it was better than being alone (bad idea). I've tried dating more than one person at a time (WORSE idea). I've dated people I wasn't that into (absolutely the worst idea ever), and I have been on the wrong side of that painful situation. I've been casual, serious, a friend with benefits, and, I fear, a bootie call which is something I never intended to be and something I never want to be again.
I've tried looking and not looking.
With the exception of singles clubs (I looked into Sierra Club Singles but it just looked like SO MUCH WORK!! Meetings and outings and dues, OH MY!), speed dating, matchmaking services and attending church (which would be like LYING) I've tried just about every scenario that well meaning folks suggest.
I've stuck to my "list". I have deviated from it (bad idea! no need to settle!!). I've dated much older (well, much for me) and much younger (once again. We're talking like, 8 years in either direction)
Do you know what I learned about dating? I need to play by my own rules.
If I don't think I'm ready get involved someone? I shouldn't go out looking.
I can look or not look, it doesn't matter. The result will be the same.
My list is there for a reason, and it's not absurd, it's not being picky, it's knowing that there are things I am looking for in a partner and that those things are important to me.
Just because a fella meets all the criteria on the list, doesn't make him right for me. (this one is a tough one. REALLY tough. like, I want to cry just typing it out because it was a PAINFUL lesson. A lesson I've been slapped in the face with several times.)
If I am unhappy about something, there's probably a valid reason. And I need to bring it up so we can work it out before it turns ugly. I am NOT a pretty crier.
Bootie call agreements are not for me. Neither is casual. I need both parties to be all in and working at it. I know that dating is the trial period before deciding whether a person is someone you want to spend your life with. But when you find yourself at home more often than not knowing that the person you are seeing isn't as into you as you are into them, it hurts. My Seester once said something to me when I was mourning too long. She asked, "Why do you want to be with someone who doesn't want to be with you?" She was right. I DON'T want to be with someone who doesn't want to be with me. Sometimes, it just takes awhile to realize that's what is going on. If he's not treating me like I matter in his world, I probably don't. As my wife once asked about a different man, "Is this really better than being alone?" No. It isn't. I'd rather be alone than miserable over a man who is treating me like I'm only good for one thing when it is convenient for him. I wouldn't treat someone else like that, why should I allow it for me?
Some might say that it is silly to try so hard to find Mr Right. That I should learn to be happy with who I am. That I need to love myself before I can be loved by someone.
I call Bullshit. I know that I will always have room to improve. I can be happy with myself while still admitting that I have flaws. No one is perfect and if you are trying to love yourself the JUST way you are, then you're giving up on the pursuit of self discovery and improvement. I want to be the best person I can be, alone or with someone. And as far as trying so hard? I realized the other day that there is a biological need to have a partner. There are only so many biological things I can ignore.
Humans weren't meant to be alone. We are community creatures. If we were meant to be alone all the time, we wouldn't have a drive to find a partner. I know how to be alone. I've quite literally spent years without a romantic attachment. I know who I am when I am by myself. I navel gaze enough to know when that person is vastly different than the person I am when I am with someone.
When they are vastly different people, I need to walk away. And go have a long talk with myself in the shower.
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