I'm sorry I haven't posted anything recently. I've been checking in on everyone else's blogs pretty regularly, but not really keeping up on my own.
I've been really, really stressed at work - my client list more than doubled when a coworker of mine resigned, so I've been pretty busy there. It's leaving me physically, emotionally and creatively drained at the end of the day, to the point where I've been waking up in the middle of the night due to nightmares about work.
Add to that the fact that I've been really busy in my personal life with a new little side project that I'm sure I'l chronicle here at some point. It's called CINgle in the City (CIN for Cincinnati, since that's the city where I'm single. Ha ha.) and the "research" has been taking up a lot of the time that I might otherwise spend writing witty, thought-provoking, entertaining posts.
So between being abnormally busy at work and in my personal life - and feeling like I have nothing to actually "say" anymore - I'm going to post here less often. Hopefully after the holidays my life will resume its equilibrium and I can fill you all in.
12.04.2006
11.18.2006
11.03.2006
"Doing God's Work"
Read this article from USA Today. It's sweet and sad, and the protagonist is a seemingly good guy who wants to right a wrong. Until you get to the last sentence.... which reveals him as one of the tackiest people on earth.
10.31.2006
It's the great pumpkin, Charlie Brown!
This is the first year that I have had my own place at Halloween. It is the first year I will get my own trick-or-treaters. So to celebrate, I carved these pumpkins... they may not be the best, but they are all mine.
BOO!
10.27.2006
525,600 minutes
How do you measure a year? That is what Dawn's post made me think of. So here is where I was a year ago... sort of. I thought this post was better than the one closest to today's date, so that that is why I posted it.
What's up with me stealing everyone else's posts lately? Me being lazy and non-creative and uninteresting, perhaps?
What's up with me stealing everyone else's posts lately? Me being lazy and non-creative and uninteresting, perhaps?
10.25.2006
Thank you, Rachel
I can't sleep.... so I have Rachel to thank for giving me something to do until the non-tiredness wears off:
1. My uncle more than once: has been to Europe by himself.
2. Never in my life have I: willingly watched a full episode of "Seinfeld".
3. The one person who can drive me nuts: myself... and my mother.
4. College is: pretty fun, if you have a fantastic group of friends.
5. When I'm nervous: sweat and get all adrenaline-y.
6. The last time I cried was: during "Grey's Anatomy" last week.
7. If I were to get married right now my bridesmaids/groomsmen would be: Also really confused. By name, they would be Leia, Becca, Julia and Lori. Oh, and my brothers.
8. My hair: is in a weird growing out stage where all it wants to do is leave my head looking like a triangle. Not. Cute.
9. When I was 5: I was in Kindergarten.
10. Last Christmas: my Nana came to visit.
11. When I turn my head left, I see: a very full bookshelf that needs a partner.
12. When I turn my head right: a butterfly chair that I've had since college and would like to replace!
13. When I look down I see: (groaning b/c I'm so lame...) flannel pajamas with stars on them, a huge snuggly bathrobe and slippers.
14. The craziest recent event was: my friend Angela's bachelorette party. Or so I'm told.
15. If I was a character on Scrubs I'd be: J.D.
16. By this time next year: I don't know what will be going on. I'm trying to get through this year.
17. My favorite Aunt is: Kathy (on my mom's side) or Katie (on my dad's side).
18. I have a hard time understanding: people who are intentionally and knowingly cruel to others.
19. One time at a family gathering: I saw my Aunt Mary's boobs.
20. You know I like you if: I give you the "You're an idiot" look.
21. If I won an award, the first person(people) I'd thank: My parents.
22. Take my advice: The things that scare you the most generally tend to be the things that teach you the most.
23. My ideal breakfast is: Pancakes or French Toast; hash browns; eggs (scrambled, with cheese); crisp bacon. Also known as the Pancake Combo from IHOP.
24. If you visit my hometown: Where I was born, you will see pecan groves, beaches and old plantations (Mobile, AL.) Where I grew up, you will see an airport.
25. Where do you plan to visit anytime soon: I will be in Michigan in two weeks (!!!), and hopefully in Dallas over New Year's Eve.
26. If you spend the night at my house: You will be sleeping on the couch.
27. The world could do without: Spiders.
28. I'd rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: I will have to echo Rachel on this one: Eat the cockroach.
29. Most recent thing you've bought yourself? A really fantastic pair of strappy, 4-inch stilleto sandals. On sale.
30. Most recent thing someone else bought for you: My mom bought me an electric beater.
31. My favorite blonde friend is: Leia (Leia, can you be counted as a blonde?) If not Leia, then probably my friend Susan from work.
32. My favorite brunette / black hair friend is: Becca.
33. The last time I was high: I was also in Maui.
34. The animals I would like to see flying besides birds are: Rhino-saurus-es (right, Julia?)
35. I should have been: Born in February.
36. Once, at a restaurant: I found a bug in my salad and they comped the meal for the entire table.
37. Last night: I was cranky.
38. A better name for myself would be: Carrie Bradshaw.
39. If I ever go back to school: I will go to law school.
40. My birthday: This year will put me closer to 30 than to 20.
41. And by the way: I'm still not tired.
1. My uncle more than once: has been to Europe by himself.
2. Never in my life have I: willingly watched a full episode of "Seinfeld".
3. The one person who can drive me nuts: myself... and my mother.
4. College is: pretty fun, if you have a fantastic group of friends.
5. When I'm nervous: sweat and get all adrenaline-y.
6. The last time I cried was: during "Grey's Anatomy" last week.
7. If I were to get married right now my bridesmaids/groomsmen would be: Also really confused. By name, they would be Leia, Becca, Julia and Lori. Oh, and my brothers.
8. My hair: is in a weird growing out stage where all it wants to do is leave my head looking like a triangle. Not. Cute.
9. When I was 5: I was in Kindergarten.
10. Last Christmas: my Nana came to visit.
11. When I turn my head left, I see: a very full bookshelf that needs a partner.
12. When I turn my head right: a butterfly chair that I've had since college and would like to replace!
13. When I look down I see: (groaning b/c I'm so lame...) flannel pajamas with stars on them, a huge snuggly bathrobe and slippers.
14. The craziest recent event was: my friend Angela's bachelorette party. Or so I'm told.
15. If I was a character on Scrubs I'd be: J.D.
16. By this time next year: I don't know what will be going on. I'm trying to get through this year.
17. My favorite Aunt is: Kathy (on my mom's side) or Katie (on my dad's side).
18. I have a hard time understanding: people who are intentionally and knowingly cruel to others.
19. One time at a family gathering: I saw my Aunt Mary's boobs.
20. You know I like you if: I give you the "You're an idiot" look.
21. If I won an award, the first person(people) I'd thank: My parents.
22. Take my advice: The things that scare you the most generally tend to be the things that teach you the most.
23. My ideal breakfast is: Pancakes or French Toast; hash browns; eggs (scrambled, with cheese); crisp bacon. Also known as the Pancake Combo from IHOP.
24. If you visit my hometown: Where I was born, you will see pecan groves, beaches and old plantations (Mobile, AL.) Where I grew up, you will see an airport.
25. Where do you plan to visit anytime soon: I will be in Michigan in two weeks (!!!), and hopefully in Dallas over New Year's Eve.
26. If you spend the night at my house: You will be sleeping on the couch.
27. The world could do without: Spiders.
28. I'd rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: I will have to echo Rachel on this one: Eat the cockroach.
29. Most recent thing you've bought yourself? A really fantastic pair of strappy, 4-inch stilleto sandals. On sale.
30. Most recent thing someone else bought for you: My mom bought me an electric beater.
31. My favorite blonde friend is: Leia (Leia, can you be counted as a blonde?) If not Leia, then probably my friend Susan from work.
32. My favorite brunette / black hair friend is: Becca.
33. The last time I was high: I was also in Maui.
34. The animals I would like to see flying besides birds are: Rhino-saurus-es (right, Julia?)
35. I should have been: Born in February.
36. Once, at a restaurant: I found a bug in my salad and they comped the meal for the entire table.
37. Last night: I was cranky.
38. A better name for myself would be: Carrie Bradshaw.
39. If I ever go back to school: I will go to law school.
40. My birthday: This year will put me closer to 30 than to 20.
41. And by the way: I'm still not tired.
10.23.2006
Don't you hate it when...
... you're in a hurry and you hit every red light possible?
... you need to sleep, but your body and mind won't turn off?
... people brake check you?
... you get the motivation to finally do something - quit, succeed, celebrate, whatever - and there's no one to help you along?
I have had a headache for about four days that I can't seem to shake. It's been creeping up into my skull every night. And I'm getting sick.
I haven't complained in a while, I needed to vent.
... you need to sleep, but your body and mind won't turn off?
... people brake check you?
... you get the motivation to finally do something - quit, succeed, celebrate, whatever - and there's no one to help you along?
I have had a headache for about four days that I can't seem to shake. It's been creeping up into my skull every night. And I'm getting sick.
I haven't complained in a while, I needed to vent.
10.16.2006
A Study of Contrasts(?)
They were a study of contrasts, two vastly different women in the grocery store on a Friday night.
One was older. Her graying hair was pulled back in a long, loose ponytail. She wore festive autumn stocks with Birkenstock sandals. Her pleated navy pants and shapeless, heavily patterned sweater bespoke woman who no longer had the body of a woman half her age. Her basket contained little - a package of strawberries, a half gallon of milk, several cans of cat food.
The other woman was younger. Her hair was cropped short in a stylish bob and was ruthlessly straightened. She wore 3 inch stilleto pumps, fitted tweed pants and a colorful trench coat. She separated her groceries - a 6-pack of light beer and a ripe, round lime - from the woman in front of her.
The two women exchanged the cursory, polite glances of strangers in a grocery store. Then the older of the pair turned to the younger... as is she'd felt the younger woman's curious and pitying stare on the back of her head.
"I was like you, once," the wolder woman said. "I was young and stylish. I wasn't always the woman who bought cat food on a Friday night.
"When I was your age," the older woman continued, "I didn't think that my life would turn out like this. I thought that when I was 50, I would have had it all: The career, the husband, the kids. The white picket fence. I never would have pictured myself as you must see me now, a lonely woman with only a couple of cats to keep her company."
"So what happened?" the younger woman asked as the older woman turned back to hand her money to the cashier.
"Life doesn't happen the way that you plan it," the older woman said with a wry and wistful smile. "What I didn't know at your age is that none of the plans I made really mattered, except for my happiness. True, I may not live the life that I had pictured for myself 25 years ago... or the life that you must imagine for yourself. But that doesn't mean that I don't life a fulfilled life."
The older woman picked up her bag and took her change from the cashier. With a kind smile, she walked into the night.
One was older. Her graying hair was pulled back in a long, loose ponytail. She wore festive autumn stocks with Birkenstock sandals. Her pleated navy pants and shapeless, heavily patterned sweater bespoke woman who no longer had the body of a woman half her age. Her basket contained little - a package of strawberries, a half gallon of milk, several cans of cat food.
The other woman was younger. Her hair was cropped short in a stylish bob and was ruthlessly straightened. She wore 3 inch stilleto pumps, fitted tweed pants and a colorful trench coat. She separated her groceries - a 6-pack of light beer and a ripe, round lime - from the woman in front of her.
The two women exchanged the cursory, polite glances of strangers in a grocery store. Then the older of the pair turned to the younger... as is she'd felt the younger woman's curious and pitying stare on the back of her head.
"I was like you, once," the wolder woman said. "I was young and stylish. I wasn't always the woman who bought cat food on a Friday night.
"When I was your age," the older woman continued, "I didn't think that my life would turn out like this. I thought that when I was 50, I would have had it all: The career, the husband, the kids. The white picket fence. I never would have pictured myself as you must see me now, a lonely woman with only a couple of cats to keep her company."
"So what happened?" the younger woman asked as the older woman turned back to hand her money to the cashier.
"Life doesn't happen the way that you plan it," the older woman said with a wry and wistful smile. "What I didn't know at your age is that none of the plans I made really mattered, except for my happiness. True, I may not live the life that I had pictured for myself 25 years ago... or the life that you must imagine for yourself. But that doesn't mean that I don't life a fulfilled life."
The older woman picked up her bag and took her change from the cashier. With a kind smile, she walked into the night.
10.07.2006
I don't want to be Scarlett O'Hara
Scarlett O'Hara and I have a lot in common:
Not only was she kind of a bitch, she was the kind of woman who let herself obsess over one man - Ashley - while rejecting, ignoring and insulting the love of a more perfect match. She let herself be caught up in the fantasy of one man, and couldn't see past him to realize that the man she married, Rhett Butler, was actually the perfect match.
And when she finally put aside her foolishness, stubbonness and pride, she realized she loved him with all her heart... but he was already gone.
I don't want to be that girl. I don't want to want one man for the rest of my life only to realize too late that I don't truly love him or want to be with him. I don't want to be so proud that I can't admit when I'm hurt - or worse yet, so proud that I don't accept help when it is given. And I don't want to be so fearful of being hurt that I don't allow myself to fall in love, even when it continues to happen.
I don't want to be Scarlett O'Hara. And despite our similarities, I'm not.
- We are both independent, self-sufficient women
- We're used to getting our way - either because we've worked hard to get it, or because people do things for us
- We both pout when we don't get our way
- We're stubborn, and we're proud
- We both have brown hair
Not only was she kind of a bitch, she was the kind of woman who let herself obsess over one man - Ashley - while rejecting, ignoring and insulting the love of a more perfect match. She let herself be caught up in the fantasy of one man, and couldn't see past him to realize that the man she married, Rhett Butler, was actually the perfect match.
And when she finally put aside her foolishness, stubbonness and pride, she realized she loved him with all her heart... but he was already gone.
I don't want to be that girl. I don't want to want one man for the rest of my life only to realize too late that I don't truly love him or want to be with him. I don't want to be so proud that I can't admit when I'm hurt - or worse yet, so proud that I don't accept help when it is given. And I don't want to be so fearful of being hurt that I don't allow myself to fall in love, even when it continues to happen.
I don't want to be Scarlett O'Hara. And despite our similarities, I'm not.
9.15.2006
Lazy Fridays
Friday afternoons are the best. I start my “end of the day” countdown right after lunch. I spend my afternoon cleaning up my office, planning out my work schedule for the next week and assigning projects to my company’s intern.
The best part of Friday is “beer Friday” – when the whole office stops what they are doing to grab a brew from the fridge and hang out in on the big comfy couches and chairs in our office’s little lounge area. It’s a time when we put aside our differences and our work and just enjoy a little social time.
We haven’t had “beer Friday” for a couple of weeks now. I have to admit, I really miss that time.
This weekend I’m in Cleveland visiting my friends from college. It’s my friend Angela’s wedding shower and joint bachelor/bachelorette party with her fiancé. They are great friends of mine and I can’t wait for this weekend to hurry up and get here! Only one more hour, then I’m off!
The best part of Friday is “beer Friday” – when the whole office stops what they are doing to grab a brew from the fridge and hang out in on the big comfy couches and chairs in our office’s little lounge area. It’s a time when we put aside our differences and our work and just enjoy a little social time.
We haven’t had “beer Friday” for a couple of weeks now. I have to admit, I really miss that time.
This weekend I’m in Cleveland visiting my friends from college. It’s my friend Angela’s wedding shower and joint bachelor/bachelorette party with her fiancé. They are great friends of mine and I can’t wait for this weekend to hurry up and get here! Only one more hour, then I’m off!
9.11.2006
Cheer, cheer for old Notre Dame!
Those are the only words that I actually learned of the fight song. I didn't catch on as quickly as you might expect. The weekend was very, very fun and I'm so glad that I went. It was not nearly as drunken as I thought it would be, but I suppose that is good because it means that I remember more of why it was so fun in the first place.
Friday night I got into South Bend around 11:00 after stopping at home in Dayton to pick up my Dad's car, which he kindly lent me for the weekend so that I could save my car the mileage (I have a lease and I'm getting reeeeeeaaaaallllllyyyyyyy close on my allowed miles). I went straight to this guy Kyle's house where I met up with Lori and Matt/Grecco.
I was standing on the back porch after having just met the three or four people there and was admiring the little pug dog peeking out through the screen door when an energetic guy jumps down behind the dog and pretended to hump it. Noticing me, his face slowly drained of color, his eyes widened and he said, "Oh, um, hello. I don't know you."
And that is how I met my groomsman and future husband.
John is the one I'm paired with in Lori and Grecco's wedding next year because we're both short and because they thought John and I would would just be a good, fun match. Turns out, we totally are. His personality and sense of humor complements mine perfectly. I do not remember another person who has made me laugh so much or so hard in one weekend. Too bad he lives in Lake Tahoe.
Anyway, we went from Kyle's house out to downtown South Bend to check the bar scene. It was INSANE. As we were driving around trying to decide whether to stop and go into one of the bars or just go home, I suggested that we all buy 40s and sit on the curb and watch all of the people go by. This suggestion led to proposal #1 by John. The proposals continued all weekend, by the way, leading to the joke that he is my future husband.
We ended up going to a bar for a little bit and then heading home because we had a big day of tailgating ahead of us. To get the party started right, Grecco woke Lori and I up at 7:30 on Saturday morning and we got all ready to go down to the game.
There weren't that many people when we got there, I guess maybe only 100-150 cars. Of course, to me that was a lot. I didn't go to a college where football was a big, popular thing to do on the weekends, so tailgating is totally foreign to me!
We had a little breakfast and then Grecco and Lori took me on a campus tour. The following photos were taken of the administration building. You can go up onto the second floor and look all the way up to the rotunda, which has this great fresco painted onto it. It's beautiful and my photography doesn't do it justice.
Following the campus tour, we went back to the tailgate and started drinking. Eventually we met up with another group of Lori and Grecco's friends at the "recent alumni" part of the tailgate. Oh. My. God. I have never seen anything like it. Tens of thousands of people drinking, partying, shotgunning beers, blasting music. A total party scene. That's where the following two photos were taken. That's me and Lori on the left and John and I on the right.
The game, if any of you saw it, was a total blow out. A 41-17 win against Penn State. We were sitting one section and about 45 rows up from the goal line where all of the scoring took place. Here are a couple of pictures of the stadium - that's Touchdown Jesus in the distance in the second picture, which was taken before everyone got there - taken from my seats, as well as of Lori and I again and the scoreboard. Oh, and the most beautiful Billy Ray Cyrus mullet I've ever seen.
After the game, we all went back to Grecco's house and pretty much crashed. Then on Sunday we had brunch with the wedding party, or at least the party that was there. Grecco's mom made a ton of food and everything was delicious. But it was all over too soon! And now it is back to the real world!!
Anyway, that was my super fun weekend in South Bend. I'm a total Notre Dame fan now and have a crush on a guy nicknamed Hog, so you know the weekend must have been a winner!
Friday night I got into South Bend around 11:00 after stopping at home in Dayton to pick up my Dad's car, which he kindly lent me for the weekend so that I could save my car the mileage (I have a lease and I'm getting reeeeeeaaaaallllllyyyyyyy close on my allowed miles). I went straight to this guy Kyle's house where I met up with Lori and Matt/Grecco.
I was standing on the back porch after having just met the three or four people there and was admiring the little pug dog peeking out through the screen door when an energetic guy jumps down behind the dog and pretended to hump it. Noticing me, his face slowly drained of color, his eyes widened and he said, "Oh, um, hello. I don't know you."
And that is how I met my groomsman and future husband.
John is the one I'm paired with in Lori and Grecco's wedding next year because we're both short and because they thought John and I would would just be a good, fun match. Turns out, we totally are. His personality and sense of humor complements mine perfectly. I do not remember another person who has made me laugh so much or so hard in one weekend. Too bad he lives in Lake Tahoe.
Anyway, we went from Kyle's house out to downtown South Bend to check the bar scene. It was INSANE. As we were driving around trying to decide whether to stop and go into one of the bars or just go home, I suggested that we all buy 40s and sit on the curb and watch all of the people go by. This suggestion led to proposal #1 by John. The proposals continued all weekend, by the way, leading to the joke that he is my future husband.
We ended up going to a bar for a little bit and then heading home because we had a big day of tailgating ahead of us. To get the party started right, Grecco woke Lori and I up at 7:30 on Saturday morning and we got all ready to go down to the game.
There weren't that many people when we got there, I guess maybe only 100-150 cars. Of course, to me that was a lot. I didn't go to a college where football was a big, popular thing to do on the weekends, so tailgating is totally foreign to me!
We had a little breakfast and then Grecco and Lori took me on a campus tour. The following photos were taken of the administration building. You can go up onto the second floor and look all the way up to the rotunda, which has this great fresco painted onto it. It's beautiful and my photography doesn't do it justice.
Following the campus tour, we went back to the tailgate and started drinking. Eventually we met up with another group of Lori and Grecco's friends at the "recent alumni" part of the tailgate. Oh. My. God. I have never seen anything like it. Tens of thousands of people drinking, partying, shotgunning beers, blasting music. A total party scene. That's where the following two photos were taken. That's me and Lori on the left and John and I on the right.
The game, if any of you saw it, was a total blow out. A 41-17 win against Penn State. We were sitting one section and about 45 rows up from the goal line where all of the scoring took place. Here are a couple of pictures of the stadium - that's Touchdown Jesus in the distance in the second picture, which was taken before everyone got there - taken from my seats, as well as of Lori and I again and the scoreboard. Oh, and the most beautiful Billy Ray Cyrus mullet I've ever seen.
After the game, we all went back to Grecco's house and pretty much crashed. Then on Sunday we had brunch with the wedding party, or at least the party that was there. Grecco's mom made a ton of food and everything was delicious. But it was all over too soon! And now it is back to the real world!!
Anyway, that was my super fun weekend in South Bend. I'm a total Notre Dame fan now and have a crush on a guy nicknamed Hog, so you know the weekend must have been a winner!
9.08.2006
Fighting Irish
I'm going to South Bend this weekend, and I'm really excited. Not only because I have tickets for the Notre Dame/Penn State game on Saturday, but also because I get to see my friends Lori and Matt. Lori and Matt recently became engaged and live all the way out in Washington, D.C. so I never get to see them.
I expect that I will be drunk for the majority of the weekend, and much hilarity shall ensue. Maybe I'll take some photos?
Also, I wrote a "deep thoughtful" post the other day and just haven't had the time to post it yet. Check back next week for a review of the weekend and the "deep thoughtful" post of the month.
I expect that I will be drunk for the majority of the weekend, and much hilarity shall ensue. Maybe I'll take some photos?
Also, I wrote a "deep thoughtful" post the other day and just haven't had the time to post it yet. Check back next week for a review of the weekend and the "deep thoughtful" post of the month.
8.31.2006
Bad Lauren...
... has not updated in a while. I fixed the link to the Virtual Book Club over on the right of this page. You can also take a peek at the site (which is now updated, thank you very much) by clicking here. Our next book is "Single Wife" by Nina Soloman. A review is posted on the Virtual Book Club blog.
My Cincinnati 101 class has wrapped up. This week we took a visit to the Skirball Museum at the Hebrew Union College, which is the epicenter of reform Judaism in the United States. Well, it started in Cincinnati, at least. There are also Hebrew Union Colleges in NYC and L.A.
In the rare book room at the college (which smelled deliciously of old books, a smell that any book lover relishes) they have some of the oldest texts ever created. Books that are hundreds, even a thousand years old. They've got one of the oldest Bible's ever created. They've got Chinese texts that date back to teh 1660s. It's amazing.
Although I was hoping to meet a few people through this experience, I was not successful. Actually, I did meet one girl but she didn't show up for either of the last two classes, so she was a bust. It was an interesting class, however, and I learned a lot about Cincinnati. I enjoyed playing tourist in my new city and will probably do so on my own - or at the very least, sign up for Cincinnati 102 if they develop a class for that. Nerdine has started her own version of this class with some friends. I seriously would encourage everyone to do it: It's fun, it gets you out of the house, it's a good learning experience AND you never know what little treasures might turn up.
My Cincinnati 101 class has wrapped up. This week we took a visit to the Skirball Museum at the Hebrew Union College, which is the epicenter of reform Judaism in the United States. Well, it started in Cincinnati, at least. There are also Hebrew Union Colleges in NYC and L.A.
In the rare book room at the college (which smelled deliciously of old books, a smell that any book lover relishes) they have some of the oldest texts ever created. Books that are hundreds, even a thousand years old. They've got one of the oldest Bible's ever created. They've got Chinese texts that date back to teh 1660s. It's amazing.
Although I was hoping to meet a few people through this experience, I was not successful. Actually, I did meet one girl but she didn't show up for either of the last two classes, so she was a bust. It was an interesting class, however, and I learned a lot about Cincinnati. I enjoyed playing tourist in my new city and will probably do so on my own - or at the very least, sign up for Cincinnati 102 if they develop a class for that. Nerdine has started her own version of this class with some friends. I seriously would encourage everyone to do it: It's fun, it gets you out of the house, it's a good learning experience AND you never know what little treasures might turn up.
8.24.2006
Life is a Cirque
I went to a preview performance of Cirque du Soleil's "Quidam" show in Cincinnati last night (free tickets - perk of the job!) and let me just say: It. Was. A.maz.ing.
I do not know much about the story line, frankly, because I didn't bother researching it too much before going to the performance. I have my own theories about the basic plot, but honestly, the plot comes second to the action.
As with any circus, Cirque du Soleil is a flurry of activity. A spotlight highlights the key performer in every scene, but there is always some other performer located on another part of the stage. For example, in a scene where a woman was hanging from the ceiling on a rope, a dancer is in the background doing a series of dizzying pirouettes and another dancer is slinking about the stage like an elephant.
The show is by turns touching, funny and death-defying. The positions that the performers move their bodies into, the strength that it must take to control their bodies. And the sheer flexibility! Oh my gosh! A.maz.ing.
Regarding the Virtual Book Club: Dawn has suggested a new selection since I've been lazy. And the winner is... Single Wife by Nina Solomon. I'll post something on the VBC site later today - I added a link in my menu for all of you who have decided to join us in our little foray into virtual social networking.
I do not know much about the story line, frankly, because I didn't bother researching it too much before going to the performance. I have my own theories about the basic plot, but honestly, the plot comes second to the action.
As with any circus, Cirque du Soleil is a flurry of activity. A spotlight highlights the key performer in every scene, but there is always some other performer located on another part of the stage. For example, in a scene where a woman was hanging from the ceiling on a rope, a dancer is in the background doing a series of dizzying pirouettes and another dancer is slinking about the stage like an elephant.
The show is by turns touching, funny and death-defying. The positions that the performers move their bodies into, the strength that it must take to control their bodies. And the sheer flexibility! Oh my gosh! A.maz.ing.
Regarding the Virtual Book Club: Dawn has suggested a new selection since I've been lazy. And the winner is... Single Wife by Nina Solomon. I'll post something on the VBC site later today - I added a link in my menu for all of you who have decided to join us in our little foray into virtual social networking.
8.13.2006
Step off, kid!!!!
My mom came down today for a little visit. We went to lunch and then to the Cincinnati History Museum. As we were walking from the ticket booth to the museum entrance, we we had to walk through a crowd of people.
There was a little boy in the crowd - three, maybe three and a half years old. As I walked toward him, I saw him lock eyes with me. He took a step, firmed up his stance... then took a swing at me with a "pfffou" noise escaping his all-too-innocent looking mouth.
I. Kid. You. Not.
I was accosted by a three year old.
Okay, well not quite accosted. At some point when he was winding up, it crossed my mind exactly what this kid was about to do, so I was able to step out of the way. And then I said, "Hey! Let's not do that!" in my most grown-up and authoritative voice. I believe I even shook a finger at him. (The kid ignored me.)
Now, I ask you: Where were the parents in all this? Because I certainly didn't see any apologetic mothers or fathers rush over as their kid tried to clock me. Nor did I see any concerned mothers or fathers even glance in my direction as I chastised him and went on my way.
As bizarre as it was, my mom and I had quite a laugh over the fact that a three-year-old tried to beat me up. But I'm telling you one thing: That kid better watch out. The next time he takes a swing at me, I'm going to grab his fist and give him a little shake. That'll show him to mess with me.
There was a little boy in the crowd - three, maybe three and a half years old. As I walked toward him, I saw him lock eyes with me. He took a step, firmed up his stance... then took a swing at me with a "pfffou" noise escaping his all-too-innocent looking mouth.
I. Kid. You. Not.
I was accosted by a three year old.
Okay, well not quite accosted. At some point when he was winding up, it crossed my mind exactly what this kid was about to do, so I was able to step out of the way. And then I said, "Hey! Let's not do that!" in my most grown-up and authoritative voice. I believe I even shook a finger at him. (The kid ignored me.)
Now, I ask you: Where were the parents in all this? Because I certainly didn't see any apologetic mothers or fathers rush over as their kid tried to clock me. Nor did I see any concerned mothers or fathers even glance in my direction as I chastised him and went on my way.
As bizarre as it was, my mom and I had quite a laugh over the fact that a three-year-old tried to beat me up. But I'm telling you one thing: That kid better watch out. The next time he takes a swing at me, I'm going to grab his fist and give him a little shake. That'll show him to mess with me.
8.07.2006
Personal Growth
I like to think that I'm someone that I would like if I were meeting myself for the first time.
My criteria for this estimation is simply that I like people who are interesting and who do interesting thigs that not everyone else does.
For me, one of those experiences began today. Today was the first in a series of four classes that I'm taking about... Cincinnati. It's through this program called "Communiversity" - kind of a community continuing education thing sponsored by the University of Cincinnati.
I'm the youngest person in the class, at least based on what I saw today. There were a couple of younger people who walked in a little late. I'm going to scope them out at the next class. The closest in age after them is 40.
But it's something that I'm doing not only to say that I've done it, but because it interests me, gives me something to do on Monday nights and keeps my mind sharp the way "Sex and the City" reruns do not.
Basically, the three remaining classes will meet in a different location and explore a different part of the city of Cincinnati's culture. Our next class meets at the Cincinnati Museum Center for a behind-the-scenes tour of the facility (which houses four museums and a train station) including the train station's control room and the art deco offices and President's boardroom. Pretty cool. You can't get a ticket for that tour.
Our next class will take place at the Hofbrauhaus, one of four officially sanctioned Hofbrauhaus' in the world. We get to eat, drink beer and talk about dining and nightlife in Cincinnati. Incidentally, Cincinnati was recently rated #1 in America for nightlife by Forbes... cool, huh?
Our final class meets at the Skirball Museum at Hebrew Union College. They apparently have this rare book collection that the public almost NEVER gets to see. This includes books where the text is written on wooden or leather pages. With my love of reading and my interest in Jewish mysticism, this is my most anticipated class.
So I'm stretching myself, my boundaries and my comfort zone. It will be worth it just to have the experience.
And it will help make me (or keep me) as a person that I'd like if I were meeting myself for the first time.
My criteria for this estimation is simply that I like people who are interesting and who do interesting thigs that not everyone else does.
For me, one of those experiences began today. Today was the first in a series of four classes that I'm taking about... Cincinnati. It's through this program called "Communiversity" - kind of a community continuing education thing sponsored by the University of Cincinnati.
I'm the youngest person in the class, at least based on what I saw today. There were a couple of younger people who walked in a little late. I'm going to scope them out at the next class. The closest in age after them is 40.
But it's something that I'm doing not only to say that I've done it, but because it interests me, gives me something to do on Monday nights and keeps my mind sharp the way "Sex and the City" reruns do not.
Basically, the three remaining classes will meet in a different location and explore a different part of the city of Cincinnati's culture. Our next class meets at the Cincinnati Museum Center for a behind-the-scenes tour of the facility (which houses four museums and a train station) including the train station's control room and the art deco offices and President's boardroom. Pretty cool. You can't get a ticket for that tour.
Our next class will take place at the Hofbrauhaus, one of four officially sanctioned Hofbrauhaus' in the world. We get to eat, drink beer and talk about dining and nightlife in Cincinnati. Incidentally, Cincinnati was recently rated #1 in America for nightlife by Forbes... cool, huh?
Our final class meets at the Skirball Museum at Hebrew Union College. They apparently have this rare book collection that the public almost NEVER gets to see. This includes books where the text is written on wooden or leather pages. With my love of reading and my interest in Jewish mysticism, this is my most anticipated class.
So I'm stretching myself, my boundaries and my comfort zone. It will be worth it just to have the experience.
And it will help make me (or keep me) as a person that I'd like if I were meeting myself for the first time.
7.31.2006
Everything looks better after you've taken a deep breath
I'm sorry I've neglected you of late, dear readers. Things have been very crazy for me the past few weeks. In addition to a general melancholy that resulted from the afore-mentioned bitch-fest administered by one of my supervisors at work, I have been incredibly lazy about updated and visiting your blogs. Rest assured that I shall do so as soon as possible - tonight, in all likelihood.
Anyway, things are getting better at work. I met with another supervisor and she was much less critical... and much more understanding of the learning curve that comes along with entering a new workplace. One of the biggest hurdles has been to adjust the way that I have typically done things with the way that my new office does things. But I've started to make that adjustment and as it turns out, all of the "complaints" (i.e. note-taking) were relatively small and easy to hammer out. So, things are good. And I'm a lot busier now, too.
In other random work news, I've decided that I have a big problem with shoes. Read: I have too many. I have been on a personal quest this month to wear a different pair of shoes every day without repeating a pair until I run out. I have just entered my third week. That's 11 different pairs of shoes. I know I can make it through the rest of the week, and probably will be able to make it through part of next week, as well. I know, I know... it's kind of weird, but these are the things I do to make my life more interesting!
Okay - I wanted to just give you a quick update before you wonder if I'm still alive. Thanks for always letting me vent and for your feedback and advice. :)
Anyway, things are getting better at work. I met with another supervisor and she was much less critical... and much more understanding of the learning curve that comes along with entering a new workplace. One of the biggest hurdles has been to adjust the way that I have typically done things with the way that my new office does things. But I've started to make that adjustment and as it turns out, all of the "complaints" (i.e. note-taking) were relatively small and easy to hammer out. So, things are good. And I'm a lot busier now, too.
In other random work news, I've decided that I have a big problem with shoes. Read: I have too many. I have been on a personal quest this month to wear a different pair of shoes every day without repeating a pair until I run out. I have just entered my third week. That's 11 different pairs of shoes. I know I can make it through the rest of the week, and probably will be able to make it through part of next week, as well. I know, I know... it's kind of weird, but these are the things I do to make my life more interesting!
Okay - I wanted to just give you a quick update before you wonder if I'm still alive. Thanks for always letting me vent and for your feedback and advice. :)
7.15.2006
Tired.... so tired!
This week left me emotionally drained. Suffice it to say that I think I hate my job and may have made a mistake in moving down to Cincinnati for it. However, I have never been one to shrink away from a challenge; so I shall strive to meet this one head on and succeed.
My frustration lies in feeling like I'm not being well utilized, based on what I know how to do. I feel like I'm given no direction, no expectations. At the same time, I feel like there are certain expectations but no one has taken the time to explain them to me or tell me what I'm supposed to do. So, I end up feeling underutilized, stressed out, bored, inadequate and scared that I'll get fired all at once.
To make matters worse, I was given a memo Wednesday based on my first three months with the company, and told that I needed to improve on the areas listed. Now granted, there was basis for some; i.e. not providing frequent enough updates. But many of the complaints listed in the memo (there were four) can be attributed to the fact that I was in my initial first-three-months learning curve. Regardless, I have never been given a bad evaluation in my life, so this one came as a big blow to my ego, pride, confidence and career.
During the "Come to Jesus" meeting that I then had with my boss to discuss and react to his memo, my boss mentioned that I come to the company at a weird period in its history, because it isn't the best time to learn through the mentoring of some of the senior supervisors. So while on the one hand he tells me he wants to see me succeed (certainly something that I want for myself), on the other hand he tells me he has no time to teach me (which he explicitly said). I'm left wondering which of the mixed messages I should take to heart, and which ones I should discard.
Regardless of its intent, I thought the memo style litany of complaints was a little unprofessional. And my boss is of the self-important type that has to write really formally and make everything sound worse than it is. For example, in a complaint about my note-taking abilities (yes, that was one of the line items with example that he provided!) he said that it was of serious concern and must be addressed and corrected immediately before my six month review. Seriously... is note-taking of such dire concern to you, boss man? These are my notes that I take for my use, and which I then expand upon memo style for my clients when the meeting is over. And with all due respect, I have only been in one meeting with this person, so how would he know whether my note-taking abilities are up to speed or not, based on the one meeting (which I reported on with tremendous accuracy, thank you very much).
Here's my worry: I worry that they held these complaints, regardless of how minor they might appear, and didn't tell me about them when they first became concerns. They held them until I'd been there a while to spring them on me. I'm worried that this same thing will happen at my six month review, at which point the stakes will become a little greater because I'll be in jeopardy of losing a raise or losing my job all together. I'd like a chance to correct mistakes - real or perceived - before they are repeated, and luckily I'm of the sort to make a mistake once and then learn from it (except when it comes to men, then all thoughts of previous mistakes go out the window!). So I don't want them storing up the next three months of complaints; I'd rather we deal with them as we go.
I don't know, I just catch myself not wanting to go into work some days, and catch myself thinking "Wow, I moved down here for this?!" and browsing for new jobs online. Not that I'd ever apply for one now, because I think you need to stay at a job for a year before you truly know whether there is a place for you there. I just wish that period of waiting to see if I'll be a success there would hurry up and be over, so that I can figure out my next move.
My frustration lies in feeling like I'm not being well utilized, based on what I know how to do. I feel like I'm given no direction, no expectations. At the same time, I feel like there are certain expectations but no one has taken the time to explain them to me or tell me what I'm supposed to do. So, I end up feeling underutilized, stressed out, bored, inadequate and scared that I'll get fired all at once.
To make matters worse, I was given a memo Wednesday based on my first three months with the company, and told that I needed to improve on the areas listed. Now granted, there was basis for some; i.e. not providing frequent enough updates. But many of the complaints listed in the memo (there were four) can be attributed to the fact that I was in my initial first-three-months learning curve. Regardless, I have never been given a bad evaluation in my life, so this one came as a big blow to my ego, pride, confidence and career.
During the "Come to Jesus" meeting that I then had with my boss to discuss and react to his memo, my boss mentioned that I come to the company at a weird period in its history, because it isn't the best time to learn through the mentoring of some of the senior supervisors. So while on the one hand he tells me he wants to see me succeed (certainly something that I want for myself), on the other hand he tells me he has no time to teach me (which he explicitly said). I'm left wondering which of the mixed messages I should take to heart, and which ones I should discard.
Regardless of its intent, I thought the memo style litany of complaints was a little unprofessional. And my boss is of the self-important type that has to write really formally and make everything sound worse than it is. For example, in a complaint about my note-taking abilities (yes, that was one of the line items with example that he provided!) he said that it was of serious concern and must be addressed and corrected immediately before my six month review. Seriously... is note-taking of such dire concern to you, boss man? These are my notes that I take for my use, and which I then expand upon memo style for my clients when the meeting is over. And with all due respect, I have only been in one meeting with this person, so how would he know whether my note-taking abilities are up to speed or not, based on the one meeting (which I reported on with tremendous accuracy, thank you very much).
Here's my worry: I worry that they held these complaints, regardless of how minor they might appear, and didn't tell me about them when they first became concerns. They held them until I'd been there a while to spring them on me. I'm worried that this same thing will happen at my six month review, at which point the stakes will become a little greater because I'll be in jeopardy of losing a raise or losing my job all together. I'd like a chance to correct mistakes - real or perceived - before they are repeated, and luckily I'm of the sort to make a mistake once and then learn from it (except when it comes to men, then all thoughts of previous mistakes go out the window!). So I don't want them storing up the next three months of complaints; I'd rather we deal with them as we go.
I don't know, I just catch myself not wanting to go into work some days, and catch myself thinking "Wow, I moved down here for this?!" and browsing for new jobs online. Not that I'd ever apply for one now, because I think you need to stay at a job for a year before you truly know whether there is a place for you there. I just wish that period of waiting to see if I'll be a success there would hurry up and be over, so that I can figure out my next move.
7.06.2006
Quick Rant
Notice to Jessice Simpson: You have a great voice. Quit hiding it behind breathless lyrics and '80s beats a la "Holiday" by Madonna.
Look, I may be on "Team Lachey" when it comes to your love life, but I must admit that I liked you a lot back when you let yourself belt out tear-worthy ballads. I'm sorry to say, though, that my enjoyment of your music really started to diminish once you sold out.
So c'mon! I have high hopes for you next single. "Public Affair" just isn't doing it for me. Sorry.
Look, I may be on "Team Lachey" when it comes to your love life, but I must admit that I liked you a lot back when you let yourself belt out tear-worthy ballads. I'm sorry to say, though, that my enjoyment of your music really started to diminish once you sold out.
So c'mon! I have high hopes for you next single. "Public Affair" just isn't doing it for me. Sorry.
6.28.2006
Hey! CW! Keep Pepper Dennis!
This is a note to all of you studio guys over at the new CW network: Keep Pepper Dennis in your fall line up.
Outside of Grey's Anatomy, Pepper Dennis is the one TV show that I look forward to every week. But tonight, during the show's weekly broadcast, the promo for next week's episode announced the series finale. What?!
I love the show for many reasons, but most of all because the character of Pepper Dennis is someone that I relate to. Strong, stubborn, willful, clumsy, driven and afraid to be vulnerable in front of others, Pepper Dennis is everything that I am. The show articulates aspects of my life that I know, love, hate, fear and want to change; that's why I enjoy watching it so much.
So please, CW studio bigwigs. Keep Pepper Dennis!
Outside of Grey's Anatomy, Pepper Dennis is the one TV show that I look forward to every week. But tonight, during the show's weekly broadcast, the promo for next week's episode announced the series finale. What?!
I love the show for many reasons, but most of all because the character of Pepper Dennis is someone that I relate to. Strong, stubborn, willful, clumsy, driven and afraid to be vulnerable in front of others, Pepper Dennis is everything that I am. The show articulates aspects of my life that I know, love, hate, fear and want to change; that's why I enjoy watching it so much.
So please, CW studio bigwigs. Keep Pepper Dennis!
6.19.2006
Anatomy of a Mean Girl
(Decoding Bitchy Girl Behavior: Part III)
The story thus far: Mean girls who act out of jealousy, insecurity and perhaps even a little spite. And now, I look at my own behavior, and dissect it a bit for your reading pleasure.
Keeping in mind Heather's specific behavior, even though I feel a little sorry for her, I still find it difficult to talk to her in public; in fact, I avoid her.
It isn't because I'm afraid that she'll turn on me, or single me out, or talk smack to me - because if she did, I certainly would stand up for myself, as I have done with her in the past (when she got caught talking a lot of shit about me to my boyfriend. Who told me about it. And then she came grovelling. But that is another story for another time.)
I don't just avoid her in social settings. I ignore her. And why do I do this?
a) I just plain old don't like her, which I'm sure she instinctively or quite obviously picks up on
b) I don't want to deal with or get caught up in her drama, and I don't want to be around when she inevitably starts it
c) I don't like the way she treats my friend and I'm afraid I'll snap one day
d) And yes, I'll admit it... part of me hopes she feels left out, as Julia so often does and as I did when I was a more integral part of that group. I want her to know how it feels to be purposefully left out.
And by giving her a taste of her own medicine, I sink to her level. So that makes me a mean girl, right?
See, in my opinion - and not just because I'm talking about myself, here - this is where the line becomes blurred. By ignoring Heather, do I become a person who is supporting her friend, or do I become a mean girl who can't step up and be the bigger person? Do I become a bit of both? Is that even possible?
Sometimes my bitchy girl behavior is a little easier to analyze:
1) My friend Rebecca started dating a guy recently. I am big enough to admit that I was a little jealous - not of her, for having a boyfriend... but of HIM, for getting to spend so much time with her when I was new in town and hoping to spend a lot of time with her, being integrated into her group of friends. So my reaction was to ignore him a little bit. I wasn't snarky or rude to him, but for the first few weeks that they were together, I didn't make much of an effort to get to know him. I can blame my behavior on being envious of the time that he got to spend with my friend, time that I would have gotten to spend with her had he not been in the picture. I can also blame it on not thinking that he's good enough for her, or thinking that because he's not good enough, she couldn't possibly keep him around for very long.
And when I realized (much to my dismay and horror) that I was acting just like Heather might, I immediately started to make more of an effort. I still don't think he's good enough for her... but I rarely think any boy is good enough for my dearest friends. But I also recognized that despite what I might think of him, he makes her happy - and THAT is what is most important to me.
2) When I get tired and stressed out, or have a bad day, I take it out on those closest to me. Now that I'm living by myself, it is a little harder to do. But when I was living at home, I could be a bit snarky with my family. I purposefully pushed them into fights with me. Hard as it is to admit, I started to feel a little better when I made someone else mad at me.
I can boil that down to the simple phrase, "Misery loves company." But I can also attribute my behavior there to feeling like my misery was justified. I wasn't just feeling crummy because something crummy happened, but also because I'd made someone else feel crummy. Like now I had a reason for feeling crummy, get it?
So there are some additional reasons for bitchy girl behavior. If you're keeping score, we're now at jealousy, insecurity, stress, spite, warped justifications... and the list goes on.
So how do we fix this problem? What can we women do - realistically, because we're unlikely to break bread with the enemy or get drunk watching soccer/football, as some men have suggested - to deal with the mean girls in our own lives?
The story thus far: Mean girls who act out of jealousy, insecurity and perhaps even a little spite. And now, I look at my own behavior, and dissect it a bit for your reading pleasure.
Keeping in mind Heather's specific behavior, even though I feel a little sorry for her, I still find it difficult to talk to her in public; in fact, I avoid her.
It isn't because I'm afraid that she'll turn on me, or single me out, or talk smack to me - because if she did, I certainly would stand up for myself, as I have done with her in the past (when she got caught talking a lot of shit about me to my boyfriend. Who told me about it. And then she came grovelling. But that is another story for another time.)
I don't just avoid her in social settings. I ignore her. And why do I do this?
a) I just plain old don't like her, which I'm sure she instinctively or quite obviously picks up on
b) I don't want to deal with or get caught up in her drama, and I don't want to be around when she inevitably starts it
c) I don't like the way she treats my friend and I'm afraid I'll snap one day
d) And yes, I'll admit it... part of me hopes she feels left out, as Julia so often does and as I did when I was a more integral part of that group. I want her to know how it feels to be purposefully left out.
And by giving her a taste of her own medicine, I sink to her level. So that makes me a mean girl, right?
See, in my opinion - and not just because I'm talking about myself, here - this is where the line becomes blurred. By ignoring Heather, do I become a person who is supporting her friend, or do I become a mean girl who can't step up and be the bigger person? Do I become a bit of both? Is that even possible?
Sometimes my bitchy girl behavior is a little easier to analyze:
1) My friend Rebecca started dating a guy recently. I am big enough to admit that I was a little jealous - not of her, for having a boyfriend... but of HIM, for getting to spend so much time with her when I was new in town and hoping to spend a lot of time with her, being integrated into her group of friends. So my reaction was to ignore him a little bit. I wasn't snarky or rude to him, but for the first few weeks that they were together, I didn't make much of an effort to get to know him. I can blame my behavior on being envious of the time that he got to spend with my friend, time that I would have gotten to spend with her had he not been in the picture. I can also blame it on not thinking that he's good enough for her, or thinking that because he's not good enough, she couldn't possibly keep him around for very long.
And when I realized (much to my dismay and horror) that I was acting just like Heather might, I immediately started to make more of an effort. I still don't think he's good enough for her... but I rarely think any boy is good enough for my dearest friends. But I also recognized that despite what I might think of him, he makes her happy - and THAT is what is most important to me.
2) When I get tired and stressed out, or have a bad day, I take it out on those closest to me. Now that I'm living by myself, it is a little harder to do. But when I was living at home, I could be a bit snarky with my family. I purposefully pushed them into fights with me. Hard as it is to admit, I started to feel a little better when I made someone else mad at me.
I can boil that down to the simple phrase, "Misery loves company." But I can also attribute my behavior there to feeling like my misery was justified. I wasn't just feeling crummy because something crummy happened, but also because I'd made someone else feel crummy. Like now I had a reason for feeling crummy, get it?
So there are some additional reasons for bitchy girl behavior. If you're keeping score, we're now at jealousy, insecurity, stress, spite, warped justifications... and the list goes on.
So how do we fix this problem? What can we women do - realistically, because we're unlikely to break bread with the enemy or get drunk watching soccer/football, as some men have suggested - to deal with the mean girls in our own lives?
6.07.2006
Anatomy of a Mean Girl
(Decoding Bitchy Girl Behavior, Part II)
Read the post below if you need to get caught up...
The situation thus far: An example of abhorrent behavior in Hollywood raises the question, "Why can't women support one another, instead of tearing each other down?"
Why do women act out against one another? I believe it ultimately comes down to insecurity. Women get defensive when they feel threatened by another woman. Whether that threat is real or perceived, it doesn't reall matter; it is all about the defense mechanism.
To highlight this theory, I shall draw from a real-life situation - one where celebrity and paparazzi don't factor into behavioral patterns: My best friend Julia is dating Rob (yes, they've been mentioned here before...) whose circle of friends - including several women - are extremely, if not uncommonly, close. Though at least one girl has accepted Julia into the group, the other girls have not. When they all go out together, Julia remains the "odd one out." The other girls ignore her, or monopolize Rob's attention.
I have seen and experienced this phenomenon myself, having been a "part" of this group while I was dating Andy. And even now that Andy and I have broken up, when I too join this group for an evening out, I'm treated the same way by these girls. Or rather, one girl in particular.
Now I get it that an individual's core group of friends are very important. My group of friends is similarly close knit. It can be difficult to break into an established set of friends - the inside jokes, the group mannerisms and the shared memories are built over time and are intrinsically and firmly rooted in that social network's make up.
But Julia and Rob have been together for two years. They plan to one day get married. Unlike me, Julia is not a flash-in-the-pan girlfriend. Yet this one girl in particular, Heather, continues to exclude her.
I think it comes down to a couple of different factors, not the least of which is my assumption that Heather perceives Julia as a threat to her friendship with Rob. The two of them have a very unique friendship, and I believe that Heather is afraid Julia will disrupt the balance of that relationship. She quite simply is afraid of being replaced, of no longer being the most important girl in Rob's life, a position which she has enjoyed with regularity for quite some time. Or perhaps she realized that by being his girlfriend, Julia has unintentionally already replaced Heather as the important girl in Rob's life.
So, in essence, Heather's freeze out method is a fight for position. Heather is employing a particular defense mechanism to jockey for her position. Regardless of whether she is fighting to protect or fighting to keep her position, she is afraid of being left behind and left alone.
When I boil her behavior down to her feelings of insecurity, I find myself feeling sorry for her. I pity the fact that she must feel her life is empty when Rob plays a smaller role in it. I pity the fact that she can't see that a true friendship, such as the one she and Rob have, won't die because someone gets a significant other. Yes, that friendship may morph and shift as certain aspects of your life change, but strong and true friendships last regardless of what else is going on. And it is much easier to maintain those friendships when you are open and accepting of your friend's choice of partners.
The next installment of this discussion will review my own bitchy girl behavior, and my own motivations behind it... As always, I welcome your thoughts, comments and debate.
Read the post below if you need to get caught up...
The situation thus far: An example of abhorrent behavior in Hollywood raises the question, "Why can't women support one another, instead of tearing each other down?"
Why do women act out against one another? I believe it ultimately comes down to insecurity. Women get defensive when they feel threatened by another woman. Whether that threat is real or perceived, it doesn't reall matter; it is all about the defense mechanism.
To highlight this theory, I shall draw from a real-life situation - one where celebrity and paparazzi don't factor into behavioral patterns: My best friend Julia is dating Rob (yes, they've been mentioned here before...) whose circle of friends - including several women - are extremely, if not uncommonly, close. Though at least one girl has accepted Julia into the group, the other girls have not. When they all go out together, Julia remains the "odd one out." The other girls ignore her, or monopolize Rob's attention.
I have seen and experienced this phenomenon myself, having been a "part" of this group while I was dating Andy. And even now that Andy and I have broken up, when I too join this group for an evening out, I'm treated the same way by these girls. Or rather, one girl in particular.
Now I get it that an individual's core group of friends are very important. My group of friends is similarly close knit. It can be difficult to break into an established set of friends - the inside jokes, the group mannerisms and the shared memories are built over time and are intrinsically and firmly rooted in that social network's make up.
But Julia and Rob have been together for two years. They plan to one day get married. Unlike me, Julia is not a flash-in-the-pan girlfriend. Yet this one girl in particular, Heather, continues to exclude her.
I think it comes down to a couple of different factors, not the least of which is my assumption that Heather perceives Julia as a threat to her friendship with Rob. The two of them have a very unique friendship, and I believe that Heather is afraid Julia will disrupt the balance of that relationship. She quite simply is afraid of being replaced, of no longer being the most important girl in Rob's life, a position which she has enjoyed with regularity for quite some time. Or perhaps she realized that by being his girlfriend, Julia has unintentionally already replaced Heather as the important girl in Rob's life.
So, in essence, Heather's freeze out method is a fight for position. Heather is employing a particular defense mechanism to jockey for her position. Regardless of whether she is fighting to protect or fighting to keep her position, she is afraid of being left behind and left alone.
When I boil her behavior down to her feelings of insecurity, I find myself feeling sorry for her. I pity the fact that she must feel her life is empty when Rob plays a smaller role in it. I pity the fact that she can't see that a true friendship, such as the one she and Rob have, won't die because someone gets a significant other. Yes, that friendship may morph and shift as certain aspects of your life change, but strong and true friendships last regardless of what else is going on. And it is much easier to maintain those friendships when you are open and accepting of your friend's choice of partners.
The next installment of this discussion will review my own bitchy girl behavior, and my own motivations behind it... As always, I welcome your thoughts, comments and debate.
6.04.2006
Cleaning house, then a real post
Hi everyone! Thanks for your patience and continued visits to my blog as I've been a little behind on posting recently. Between the move, getting increasingly busy at work, and my youngest brother's graduation from high school (and related family commitments) things have been INSANE for me. But I'm officially back with the promise to do a better job moving forward!
Here are some general notes:
1) For those reading The Five People You Meet In Heaven as part of the virtual book club, I've posted a brief synopsis and some starter discussion questions on the site and will update it a couple of times throughout the coming week. I hope you all enjoyed the book (which wasn't so much about religion or heaven as it was about learning and recognizing the importance of the lessons your life can teach you).
2) Following is a post that I've been working on for a while. I'm excited to get your feedback.
So without further ado, I bring to you:
The Anatomy Of A Mean Girl
(Parenthetical subtitle: Decoding Bitchy Girl Behavior, Part I)
Lindsay Lohan is living every high school girl's worst nightmare right now. Taking a page from LiLo's own "Mean Girls" movie, Paris and Brandon proved that, even in adulthood, the "cool" kids are still catty.
I'm not sure if you saw this story a few weeks ago or not. While out on the Tinseltown, Brandon - backed by BFF Paris - berated Lindsay in front of the assembled paparazzi. He disdainfully referred to Lindsay's genitalia ("fire crotch" is one of the more PG-13 terms he used); her "bomb" of a movie "Just My Luck" and her "pathetic" $7 mil-per-picture salary. Paris giggled and whispered in Brandon's ear during his tirade, seemingly egging him on.
This is interesting on a few notes, not the least of which are the facts that:
a) Brandon Davis (yes, I know, who?!) and Paris Hilton are only famous because of who their fathers are and the fact that they party 7 days a week. They aren't famous because of their contributions to society, their accomplishments or by virtue of their own merits.
b) I'm not sure if Brandon Davis has ever been in a film, but I'm pretty sure Paris' own "House of Wax" wasn't exactly a box office smash hit. Oh wait, she did have the straight-to-video "One Night In Paris" courtesy of her exboyfriend. I heard that did pretty well at the video story. Kudos, Ms. Hilton.
c) Bradon's assertion that Lindsay's salary per movie basically makes her poor is living off his oil tycoon father's dime. If Daddy were to cut him off, I wonder what his net worth would tally in at, given that his personal source of income seems to be limited to appearances at parties. As for Paris, she at least has a perfume and line of dog accessories.
Regardless of a lack of reason (other than stunted maturity and poor, spoiled upbringing), these two mean girls fulfill for Lindsay Lohan what every teenage girl dreads: Picked on, cast out from the clique, talked about in the bathroom and snickered at in the lunch line. As Paris and Brandon proved, the insecurities that teenage girls feel can often follow you into adulthood as well.
But why?
I have been thinking about this phenomenon a lot lately... why some women need to attack other women in order to assert their own authority. Is this because they truly are "better" than the other girl (and if so, who or what makes that distinction)? Or is it something else? My guy friends have often asked why we, as women, behave the way we do. Most of the time, we girls are just as confused as you men are.
So over the next few days, I will post my various theories on this behavior, with the disclaimer that I'm not a professional and have no evidence to support my claims other than what I've experienced in my own life. Feel free to weigh in with your own theories or call me out on mine as needed.
Here are some general notes:
1) For those reading The Five People You Meet In Heaven as part of the virtual book club, I've posted a brief synopsis and some starter discussion questions on the site and will update it a couple of times throughout the coming week. I hope you all enjoyed the book (which wasn't so much about religion or heaven as it was about learning and recognizing the importance of the lessons your life can teach you).
2) Following is a post that I've been working on for a while. I'm excited to get your feedback.
So without further ado, I bring to you:
The Anatomy Of A Mean Girl
(Parenthetical subtitle: Decoding Bitchy Girl Behavior, Part I)
Lindsay Lohan is living every high school girl's worst nightmare right now. Taking a page from LiLo's own "Mean Girls" movie, Paris and Brandon proved that, even in adulthood, the "cool" kids are still catty.
I'm not sure if you saw this story a few weeks ago or not. While out on the Tinseltown, Brandon - backed by BFF Paris - berated Lindsay in front of the assembled paparazzi. He disdainfully referred to Lindsay's genitalia ("fire crotch" is one of the more PG-13 terms he used); her "bomb" of a movie "Just My Luck" and her "pathetic" $7 mil-per-picture salary. Paris giggled and whispered in Brandon's ear during his tirade, seemingly egging him on.
This is interesting on a few notes, not the least of which are the facts that:
a) Brandon Davis (yes, I know, who?!) and Paris Hilton are only famous because of who their fathers are and the fact that they party 7 days a week. They aren't famous because of their contributions to society, their accomplishments or by virtue of their own merits.
b) I'm not sure if Brandon Davis has ever been in a film, but I'm pretty sure Paris' own "House of Wax" wasn't exactly a box office smash hit. Oh wait, she did have the straight-to-video "One Night In Paris" courtesy of her exboyfriend. I heard that did pretty well at the video story. Kudos, Ms. Hilton.
c) Bradon's assertion that Lindsay's salary per movie basically makes her poor is living off his oil tycoon father's dime. If Daddy were to cut him off, I wonder what his net worth would tally in at, given that his personal source of income seems to be limited to appearances at parties. As for Paris, she at least has a perfume and line of dog accessories.
Regardless of a lack of reason (other than stunted maturity and poor, spoiled upbringing), these two mean girls fulfill for Lindsay Lohan what every teenage girl dreads: Picked on, cast out from the clique, talked about in the bathroom and snickered at in the lunch line. As Paris and Brandon proved, the insecurities that teenage girls feel can often follow you into adulthood as well.
But why?
I have been thinking about this phenomenon a lot lately... why some women need to attack other women in order to assert their own authority. Is this because they truly are "better" than the other girl (and if so, who or what makes that distinction)? Or is it something else? My guy friends have often asked why we, as women, behave the way we do. Most of the time, we girls are just as confused as you men are.
So over the next few days, I will post my various theories on this behavior, with the disclaimer that I'm not a professional and have no evidence to support my claims other than what I've experienced in my own life. Feel free to weigh in with your own theories or call me out on mine as needed.
5.23.2006
Yes, I'm alive!
Another post to follow in a couple of days. Things have been busy, but I've been thinking of all of you!!!
5.12.2006
This is why I started this blog
Thanks to all of you who expressed concern for my near-death experience. It's so nice to know that all of you out there that I've never met care what happen to me! :)
Anyway, I thought I'd recount a happier experience that defines why I started this blog. In other words, "Things that only happen to me."
I went to a bar last weekend, Lebo's... a not-so-hole-in-the-wall bar that's either in Ohio or Kentucky. I actually don't know, because going there you cross over the OHKY border about five times.
Anyway, I'm watching all the karaoke madness when Slash from Guns-N-Roses gets up and does a song. A Guns-N-Roses song, natch. Only in Kentucky. Hello, who else does that happen to?
While checking out the assorted crazies in the bar, I notice a man that is particularly attractive, except for the giant nipples protruding from his overly tight t-shirt. Regardless of his freakishly large nipples, he's still a good looking fellow, in that dorky way that I'm a fan of.
He ends up sitting at the table next to Rebecca and I and starts talking to us. When he asks if we're singing, Rebecca informs him that I, in fact, am up in a few minutes. He asks what I'm singing. I tell him "Son of a Preacher Man" by Dusty Springfield.
"You can sing that song?" he asks?
"I can sing the shit out of that song," I reply. Partially because it's true. And partially because I'm pissed off that he would question it. I mean, it's karaoke for God's sake, not American Idol (which, okay, is a glorified karaoke competition, but gimme a break, I'm trying to tell a story here!)
So I get up and sing. I sang the shit out of that song.
When I get back to my spot, the guy compliments my singing. Then he starts asking what I do, do I ever write songs, what kind of music am I into... assorted questions that don't have much to do with karaoke.
Then he offers me a spot in a band that he is putting together. Apparently, he is a local producer and is looking for a girl vocalist to join this group he's producing for. Swear to God, I'm thinking I just got discovered. He gives me his information and suggests I try out for the rest of the band.
Turns out, this band is a hard-rock, alterna, angry punk rock country band. In other words, they have no actual musical style to speak of.
I didn't call him.
Anyway, I thought I'd recount a happier experience that defines why I started this blog. In other words, "Things that only happen to me."
I went to a bar last weekend, Lebo's... a not-so-hole-in-the-wall bar that's either in Ohio or Kentucky. I actually don't know, because going there you cross over the OHKY border about five times.
Anyway, I'm watching all the karaoke madness when Slash from Guns-N-Roses gets up and does a song. A Guns-N-Roses song, natch. Only in Kentucky. Hello, who else does that happen to?
While checking out the assorted crazies in the bar, I notice a man that is particularly attractive, except for the giant nipples protruding from his overly tight t-shirt. Regardless of his freakishly large nipples, he's still a good looking fellow, in that dorky way that I'm a fan of.
He ends up sitting at the table next to Rebecca and I and starts talking to us. When he asks if we're singing, Rebecca informs him that I, in fact, am up in a few minutes. He asks what I'm singing. I tell him "Son of a Preacher Man" by Dusty Springfield.
"You can sing that song?" he asks?
"I can sing the shit out of that song," I reply. Partially because it's true. And partially because I'm pissed off that he would question it. I mean, it's karaoke for God's sake, not American Idol (which, okay, is a glorified karaoke competition, but gimme a break, I'm trying to tell a story here!)
So I get up and sing. I sang the shit out of that song.
When I get back to my spot, the guy compliments my singing. Then he starts asking what I do, do I ever write songs, what kind of music am I into... assorted questions that don't have much to do with karaoke.
Then he offers me a spot in a band that he is putting together. Apparently, he is a local producer and is looking for a girl vocalist to join this group he's producing for. Swear to God, I'm thinking I just got discovered. He gives me his information and suggests I try out for the rest of the band.
Turns out, this band is a hard-rock, alterna, angry punk rock country band. In other words, they have no actual musical style to speak of.
I didn't call him.
5.11.2006
Lucky to be alive - literally.
I'll admit that I was going a little too fast when I headed into the curves on Columbia Parkway. I was going the speed limit, technically, but the roads were slick from rain that had just fallen. This was the first time that I had taken Columbia Parkway, so I didn't know my way around just yet. But I felt confident that I knew where I was, what I was doing when I went into the curve.
I felt the wheels slip underneath me. They gripped hard at the pavement, then slid away.
I felt my back end fishtail to the left. Then to the right, as I overcompensated. I headed for the cement median, then swerved back towards the 13-foot high cement wall that separated the car from the side of the hill. I fishtailed once... or was it twice? My car spun around me, facing oncoming traffic, turned all around.
Did I ever feel panicked? Did I ever feel scared? I'm not sure. It happened so fast, but so slowly at the same time. Did I scream? Shouldn't I know that?! I can't remember if I screamed.
Actually, I'm pretty sure I didn't scream. I was scared. I felt certain that I was about to die.
I'm not sure how my car came to a stop, two feet from the wall, at a 45 degree angle from it, strewn across two lanes and almost facing the wrong way on the street. I wasn't even aware that my foot was still on the brake. I'm not even sure if my hands were still on the wheel.
I reversed away from the wall, got back into my lane. Just as a truck came barrelling around the curve. It swerved into the other lane, missing me by inches. Five extra seconds, and he would have T-boned me.
The adrenaline came first, pumping like cocaine through my system. Then the hysteria. The shakes. The tears. The hyperventilation, the nausea, the lightheadness.
I don't remember that 20 seconds or so that I lost control of my car. I don't know how I managed to swerve and fishtail and 360 my way down 100 feet of empty highway, as the traffic on the other side of the median flew by.
Had there been another car on my side of the road... or just before me... or just behind me... and I would have hit them. A few less seconds of time, a slower reaction, non-anti-lock brakes and I would have slammed into the concrete wall - perhaps not just once. I very well could have died today.
Unlike a similar post that I put up recently, this was not a dream.
I felt the wheels slip underneath me. They gripped hard at the pavement, then slid away.
I felt my back end fishtail to the left. Then to the right, as I overcompensated. I headed for the cement median, then swerved back towards the 13-foot high cement wall that separated the car from the side of the hill. I fishtailed once... or was it twice? My car spun around me, facing oncoming traffic, turned all around.
Did I ever feel panicked? Did I ever feel scared? I'm not sure. It happened so fast, but so slowly at the same time. Did I scream? Shouldn't I know that?! I can't remember if I screamed.
Actually, I'm pretty sure I didn't scream. I was scared. I felt certain that I was about to die.
I'm not sure how my car came to a stop, two feet from the wall, at a 45 degree angle from it, strewn across two lanes and almost facing the wrong way on the street. I wasn't even aware that my foot was still on the brake. I'm not even sure if my hands were still on the wheel.
I reversed away from the wall, got back into my lane. Just as a truck came barrelling around the curve. It swerved into the other lane, missing me by inches. Five extra seconds, and he would have T-boned me.
The adrenaline came first, pumping like cocaine through my system. Then the hysteria. The shakes. The tears. The hyperventilation, the nausea, the lightheadness.
I don't remember that 20 seconds or so that I lost control of my car. I don't know how I managed to swerve and fishtail and 360 my way down 100 feet of empty highway, as the traffic on the other side of the median flew by.
Had there been another car on my side of the road... or just before me... or just behind me... and I would have hit them. A few less seconds of time, a slower reaction, non-anti-lock brakes and I would have slammed into the concrete wall - perhaps not just once. I very well could have died today.
Unlike a similar post that I put up recently, this was not a dream.
5.05.2006
"Hyde" and go seek
This weekend is the BIG MOVE from Dayton to Cincinnati - specifically, to the Hyde Park area of Cincinnati. Think schi-schi, old money combined with young families and professionals. A dichotomy, to be sure. But it is very safe, the house is nice, the landlord is hot and lives above me (be still my heart) and it should be a good time.
I'm very excited about the move and will post pictures after everything is all set up. I've been painting select rooms all week and so far it looks great!
What I'm most excited about - and this is pathetic - is the fact that the digital cable/high speed internet provider is coming first thing on Saturday morning so I'll be all set up by later that night. That means finally being able to post from home, instead of composing at home and typing in at work. Hooray!
I'm very excited about the move and will post pictures after everything is all set up. I've been painting select rooms all week and so far it looks great!
What I'm most excited about - and this is pathetic - is the fact that the digital cable/high speed internet provider is coming first thing on Saturday morning so I'll be all set up by later that night. That means finally being able to post from home, instead of composing at home and typing in at work. Hooray!
5.02.2006
"R" you ready?
All the cool kids are doing it, so I jumped on the bandwagon and signed up. Basically, I was assigned a letter by the lovely DawnMarie. I have to write things that I like that start with the letter. Then, if other people want to participate, I have to assign them a letter, and the cycle continues. Get it? Rachel, Carly, and Dawn all gave their 2 cents. And now it is my turn to chip in.
So without further ado, I give you the letter "R".
Rachel - I must give e-props to the girl who started this whole thing. Also, Rachel was my favorite character on Friends.
Ravioli - Pasta stuffed with cheese. Or meat and cheese. Or vegetables and cheese. Or sometimes potatoes and cheese (although that is technically called a pierogi...)
Red - One of my favorite colors, and also the color of my new couch. Red is fiesty and passionate and ALIVE!
Romance - I refuse to believe romance is dead, and although I hate really mushy, overly-romantic gestures, I do love being romanced in small, simple ways. Like buying me flowers for no reason. Or doing my laundry.
Roses - Yellow ones. I like the way they smell.
Reading - I LOVE to read. It doesn't matter what the genre is, as long as it has words and pages I'll give it a try. I like to be recommended different books and I like to swap back and forth. Which brings me to another topic, the Virtual Book Club... this is an idea inspired by Carly and her love affair with the written word. Check it out.
Riviera - The French Riviera, that is. I've been there once, to Nice for two days and Monaco for one. The water was so blue and endless! And I witnessed one of the most beautiful sunsets I've ever seen while I was there.
Rolling on the floor laughing - C'mon, who doesn't love a good belly laugh every day? Laughter is vital to my existence.
Rutabagas - Okay, I actually don't like rutabagas all that much. For those of you not familiar with the vegetable, it is a root vegetable similar to a turnip but it is yellow and has a consistency more like squash when cooked and mashed up. And although I don't like rutabagas, we have them every year at Thanksgiving. It is a tradition that comes from my mom's side of the family. And Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. So thinking about rutabagas makes me think of my family and that makes me happy.
Which leads me to relatives - I love mine. Every last, nutty one.
Rectangles - I really like geometric patterns and would love to experiment with painting different-sized rectangles all over the walls of my apartment. I know, that one is kind of a stretch, but bear with me here! This is harder that it looks!
Rudolph - Think about it, no Rudolph has ever given up. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer? Check. Rudy from that movie Rudy? Check. Rudy Giuliani? Check.
Anyone wanna play? Since most of you read the same blogs as I do, I'm guessing the pool of applicants will be small, but I'm putting it out there anyway! Let me know and I'll assign you a letter.
So without further ado, I give you the letter "R".
Rachel - I must give e-props to the girl who started this whole thing. Also, Rachel was my favorite character on Friends.
Ravioli - Pasta stuffed with cheese. Or meat and cheese. Or vegetables and cheese. Or sometimes potatoes and cheese (although that is technically called a pierogi...)
Red - One of my favorite colors, and also the color of my new couch. Red is fiesty and passionate and ALIVE!
Romance - I refuse to believe romance is dead, and although I hate really mushy, overly-romantic gestures, I do love being romanced in small, simple ways. Like buying me flowers for no reason. Or doing my laundry.
Roses - Yellow ones. I like the way they smell.
Reading - I LOVE to read. It doesn't matter what the genre is, as long as it has words and pages I'll give it a try. I like to be recommended different books and I like to swap back and forth. Which brings me to another topic, the Virtual Book Club... this is an idea inspired by Carly and her love affair with the written word. Check it out.
Riviera - The French Riviera, that is. I've been there once, to Nice for two days and Monaco for one. The water was so blue and endless! And I witnessed one of the most beautiful sunsets I've ever seen while I was there.
Rolling on the floor laughing - C'mon, who doesn't love a good belly laugh every day? Laughter is vital to my existence.
Rutabagas - Okay, I actually don't like rutabagas all that much. For those of you not familiar with the vegetable, it is a root vegetable similar to a turnip but it is yellow and has a consistency more like squash when cooked and mashed up. And although I don't like rutabagas, we have them every year at Thanksgiving. It is a tradition that comes from my mom's side of the family. And Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. So thinking about rutabagas makes me think of my family and that makes me happy.
Which leads me to relatives - I love mine. Every last, nutty one.
Rectangles - I really like geometric patterns and would love to experiment with painting different-sized rectangles all over the walls of my apartment. I know, that one is kind of a stretch, but bear with me here! This is harder that it looks!
Rudolph - Think about it, no Rudolph has ever given up. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer? Check. Rudy from that movie Rudy? Check. Rudy Giuliani? Check.
Anyone wanna play? Since most of you read the same blogs as I do, I'm guessing the pool of applicants will be small, but I'm putting it out there anyway! Let me know and I'll assign you a letter.
5.01.2006
America, the beautiful
What makes America so great is the fact that even illegal immigrants have the freedom to protest when they believe they are being treated unfairly.
It is that sense of "Devil may care" that built America, and that sustains it.
And while it is true that it is every citizen's right (as per the Bill of Rights, that is) to assemble and protest, the key word in that equation is CITIZEN.
If the reports are true, America is in for a heapin' spoonful of trouble when immigrants around the country march to protest proposed crackdowns on illegal immigration.
It is no secret that America was built on immigration. The beauty of America is the fact that so many colors, nationalities, languages and cultures create the fabric of our country.
What I question is whether people who are here illegally - regardless of their nationality - deserve the fundamental rights that the rest of the American population enjoy, when they are not here through legal channels. I simply don't think it is fair to the immigrants who came before them, who toiled, struggled and achieved legal citizenship.
Congressman F. James Sensenbrenner stirred the pot when he introduced legislation that would make it a felony to aid illegal aliens. According to Sensenbrenner, his goal is not to oust every illegal immigrant in the country - how could you accomplish that task in the first place, with nets and tasers?! - but to stop illegal immigration at its root, with the employers who give illegals reason to come to America in the first place.
Sensenbrenner's bill is what set off immigration watch dog groups and set the wheels for a massive immigration protest. It is presumed that these protests will have a great impact on America's economy. Is that true, or will the disruption of daily routine be felt mostly in those cities (i.e. Los Angeles, New York, Chicago, most of Texas) that have large pockets of illegal immigrants?
I'm not sure than anyone questions the impact of immigrants on our society... the question becomes whether illegal aliens are disrupting the social and economic balance by taking jobs away from legal citizens. While the government is trying to figure out the answer to that questions, millions of legal and illegal immigrants are out flooding the streets, to make the point that they belong here, too.
Of course, for every illegal immigrant out protesting, another four are waiting to replace them.
It is that sense of "Devil may care" that built America, and that sustains it.
And while it is true that it is every citizen's right (as per the Bill of Rights, that is) to assemble and protest, the key word in that equation is CITIZEN.
If the reports are true, America is in for a heapin' spoonful of trouble when immigrants around the country march to protest proposed crackdowns on illegal immigration.
It is no secret that America was built on immigration. The beauty of America is the fact that so many colors, nationalities, languages and cultures create the fabric of our country.
What I question is whether people who are here illegally - regardless of their nationality - deserve the fundamental rights that the rest of the American population enjoy, when they are not here through legal channels. I simply don't think it is fair to the immigrants who came before them, who toiled, struggled and achieved legal citizenship.
Congressman F. James Sensenbrenner stirred the pot when he introduced legislation that would make it a felony to aid illegal aliens. According to Sensenbrenner, his goal is not to oust every illegal immigrant in the country - how could you accomplish that task in the first place, with nets and tasers?! - but to stop illegal immigration at its root, with the employers who give illegals reason to come to America in the first place.
Sensenbrenner's bill is what set off immigration watch dog groups and set the wheels for a massive immigration protest. It is presumed that these protests will have a great impact on America's economy. Is that true, or will the disruption of daily routine be felt mostly in those cities (i.e. Los Angeles, New York, Chicago, most of Texas) that have large pockets of illegal immigrants?
I'm not sure than anyone questions the impact of immigrants on our society... the question becomes whether illegal aliens are disrupting the social and economic balance by taking jobs away from legal citizens. While the government is trying to figure out the answer to that questions, millions of legal and illegal immigrants are out flooding the streets, to make the point that they belong here, too.
Of course, for every illegal immigrant out protesting, another four are waiting to replace them.
4.24.2006
Gasping for breath
It was a typical bar scene: Dim lighting, blue-grey smoke hanging in the air, loud conversation and whatever music was playing on the jukebox. Seeing Andy there wasn’t a shock, after all, “our” friends were all there. They clustered around a table, beers in hand, cliqued off by couple or by conversation topic.
I took a seat next to Andy, as I normally would, and attempted to start up a conversation. But his response was chilly, and eventually he walked away. I resumed my socializing, talking instead to some of my other friends.
After some time had passed, I thought maybe I'd attempt another conversation with Andy. I saw him through the haze of smoke and the maze of tables, so I waved him over. I was in the mood to talk to him; finally, I was at a point in our relationship where seeing him, speaking to him didn’t remind me of what we’d had. I was at a point in our relationship where the phrase “just friends” was palatable. It had taken me so long to get there that I was grateful for the feeling. And I wanted to share that feeling.
“I don’t understand why she keeps talking to me,” Andy said to Rob (Julia's boyfriend and Andy's best friend). “It’s like she’s trying to be friends or something.”
“I don’t know, dude,” Rob replied. He turned back to Julia, unconcerned.
I was hurt by the statement, and confused. The last time I’d seen Andy, things were awkward, but was that any reason not to attempt civility in public? My face probably betrayed my inner thoughts; I’m not very good at controlling my facial expressions and reactions to others. Especially my reactions to him.
So when he walked over to my table, I thought maybe he was going to make peace and play nice. I slid off my bar stool, ready to greet him. But my hope for a civil friendship started fade as he got closer. The stormy expression on his face spoke not of making peace, but of making war.
I suppose I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was when he bent me back, over the table, and started choking me.
I felt his hands around my windpipe. I felt the air trapped in my throat, buried under the fear. I don’t know how I got the strength to break his hold, but somehow I did.
“What are you doing?!” I shouted at him.
"Why are you trying to be friends with me?! I don't want to be your friend!" he shouted in response.
He moved so quickly, I didn’t guess his intentions. He pushed the leg of a nearby barstool against my throat. He face was red and angry. There was a hatred there that I've never seen before on anyone... it was scary and I started to panic. "He's going to kill me," I thought. My vision started to dapple, but even as I felt life being strangled away, I registered the nonchalance on the faces of the other people in the bar. I'm not sure they were even looking at me or aware of what was happening. It was just another boring scene in a bar to them.
Imagine my relief when I woke up in a cold sweat, sheets tangled around my legs, heart pounding wildly in my chest. The room was dark, the house was quiet. My mind was groggy… but the dream stayed with me.
I took a seat next to Andy, as I normally would, and attempted to start up a conversation. But his response was chilly, and eventually he walked away. I resumed my socializing, talking instead to some of my other friends.
After some time had passed, I thought maybe I'd attempt another conversation with Andy. I saw him through the haze of smoke and the maze of tables, so I waved him over. I was in the mood to talk to him; finally, I was at a point in our relationship where seeing him, speaking to him didn’t remind me of what we’d had. I was at a point in our relationship where the phrase “just friends” was palatable. It had taken me so long to get there that I was grateful for the feeling. And I wanted to share that feeling.
“I don’t understand why she keeps talking to me,” Andy said to Rob (Julia's boyfriend and Andy's best friend). “It’s like she’s trying to be friends or something.”
“I don’t know, dude,” Rob replied. He turned back to Julia, unconcerned.
I was hurt by the statement, and confused. The last time I’d seen Andy, things were awkward, but was that any reason not to attempt civility in public? My face probably betrayed my inner thoughts; I’m not very good at controlling my facial expressions and reactions to others. Especially my reactions to him.
So when he walked over to my table, I thought maybe he was going to make peace and play nice. I slid off my bar stool, ready to greet him. But my hope for a civil friendship started fade as he got closer. The stormy expression on his face spoke not of making peace, but of making war.
I suppose I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was when he bent me back, over the table, and started choking me.
I felt his hands around my windpipe. I felt the air trapped in my throat, buried under the fear. I don’t know how I got the strength to break his hold, but somehow I did.
“What are you doing?!” I shouted at him.
"Why are you trying to be friends with me?! I don't want to be your friend!" he shouted in response.
He moved so quickly, I didn’t guess his intentions. He pushed the leg of a nearby barstool against my throat. He face was red and angry. There was a hatred there that I've never seen before on anyone... it was scary and I started to panic. "He's going to kill me," I thought. My vision started to dapple, but even as I felt life being strangled away, I registered the nonchalance on the faces of the other people in the bar. I'm not sure they were even looking at me or aware of what was happening. It was just another boring scene in a bar to them.
Imagine my relief when I woke up in a cold sweat, sheets tangled around my legs, heart pounding wildly in my chest. The room was dark, the house was quiet. My mind was groggy… but the dream stayed with me.
4.22.2006
Is this what a tdrunk post is like?
Hello, Yellow Tail Chardonnay. I love you because you are lses than $1-0 a bottle and you are delicious. In the "I just consumed your entire bottel" kind of way.
Dawn and Saryah, I see you drunk bposts and raise you onw.
Cheers.
PS did you see Borkeback Mouyntain? It is a love story. Nothing else.
Ah, lovely and relaxed and in spite of that fact that Sam Hottie with the Body Marachino Cherry's phone is a piec eof crap, life is good
Sam is a hottie with a body that I mest last saturday night.
Okay, enoght with this posting, I"m off to watch a chick flick and perhaps eat some milano cookies. Mmm.
Dawn and Saryah, I see you drunk bposts and raise you onw.
Cheers.
PS did you see Borkeback Mouyntain? It is a love story. Nothing else.
Ah, lovely and relaxed and in spite of that fact that Sam Hottie with the Body Marachino Cherry's phone is a piec eof crap, life is good
Sam is a hottie with a body that I mest last saturday night.
Okay, enoght with this posting, I"m off to watch a chick flick and perhaps eat some milano cookies. Mmm.
I'm still here, but barely!
Whew! Okay, this has been a weirdly boring and stressful week. Posting will be sporadic until I'm all settled into my new job and new apartment, the latter of which will not occur until the first weekend of May.
Anyway, here is some evidence of my week:
1) Started the new job, was really excited. Then got thrown onto some projects that I'm really not qualified to lead. It isn't a self confidence thing, it's just simply not having the skills at this point in my career that are necessary to handle the job. I'm sorry I can't be more specific, but I'm just all talked out about it.
2) Bought a mattress. I now have all the furniture I'll need to move in... when I'm able to move in. For those of you keeping score, that is couch, mattress and the TV I already have.
3) I have a sinus infection that is causing the left side of my head and face a lot of pain. Weird that it is only one one side of my head, but whatever. Now I'm on medication, but since my new insurance card hasn't arrived, I had to pay for it all out-of-pocket before I can be reimbursed. Sucky.
So anyway, there is a post forthcoming that is in the style of the Bougie Black Boy, which will be good for me to get out. So look for that a little later. Other than that, I'm getting my hair cut today so that will be good. Ah, scalp massage!!
And thank you all for your lovely and positive comments. I liked reading them all this week, even though my access to the internet has been a little dicey and I haven't been able to visit you as much as I normally have (or would have liked to). Hopefully that will be remedied soon!
Anyway, here is some evidence of my week:
1) Started the new job, was really excited. Then got thrown onto some projects that I'm really not qualified to lead. It isn't a self confidence thing, it's just simply not having the skills at this point in my career that are necessary to handle the job. I'm sorry I can't be more specific, but I'm just all talked out about it.
2) Bought a mattress. I now have all the furniture I'll need to move in... when I'm able to move in. For those of you keeping score, that is couch, mattress and the TV I already have.
3) I have a sinus infection that is causing the left side of my head and face a lot of pain. Weird that it is only one one side of my head, but whatever. Now I'm on medication, but since my new insurance card hasn't arrived, I had to pay for it all out-of-pocket before I can be reimbursed. Sucky.
So anyway, there is a post forthcoming that is in the style of the Bougie Black Boy, which will be good for me to get out. So look for that a little later. Other than that, I'm getting my hair cut today so that will be good. Ah, scalp massage!!
And thank you all for your lovely and positive comments. I liked reading them all this week, even though my access to the internet has been a little dicey and I haven't been able to visit you as much as I normally have (or would have liked to). Hopefully that will be remedied soon!
4.17.2006
Job update
So the "first day of school" feeling passed. My first day of work was great. The people are nice, I think the work will be fun and I'm really confident that I made the right decision here. Plus, I got all new office supplies and stuff like that - I love new office products.
I got "promoted" on my first day here. My boss said he couldn't in good conscience make me an Account Executive when he is getting ready to promote several Assistant Account Execs to that level, not when I have so much more experience than these people who have been out of school for a year or less. So now I'm a Senior Account Executive. This is crazy, I'm freaking out. I have a lot of experience for being so young, but SENIOR ACCOUNT EXECUTIVE?! I'm not sure if I'm qualified for that. However, that title certainly puts me on the path of being a low-level Vice President by the time I'm 30... so I'll take it.
I should have asked him if I get more money. Damn.
Anyway, I'm looking forward to getting busy (HA HA!) really soon. This of course was a slower day because I don't have any projects. But I already have two client meetings scheduled for later in the week, so hopefully the week will pick up a little bit.
I got "promoted" on my first day here. My boss said he couldn't in good conscience make me an Account Executive when he is getting ready to promote several Assistant Account Execs to that level, not when I have so much more experience than these people who have been out of school for a year or less. So now I'm a Senior Account Executive. This is crazy, I'm freaking out. I have a lot of experience for being so young, but SENIOR ACCOUNT EXECUTIVE?! I'm not sure if I'm qualified for that. However, that title certainly puts me on the path of being a low-level Vice President by the time I'm 30... so I'll take it.
I should have asked him if I get more money. Damn.
Anyway, I'm looking forward to getting busy (HA HA!) really soon. This of course was a slower day because I don't have any projects. But I already have two client meetings scheduled for later in the week, so hopefully the week will pick up a little bit.
4.16.2006
4.13.2006
Okay
Although this blog didn't and won't necessarily become a political one, I did like this quote that a friend of mine has in his IM profile. Also, I'm a big *buzzed* and wanted to do a drunk post and at the moment this is as close as it gets:
"In November 2000, the United States held a presidential election, and nobody knew who won, so we just kind of made up an outcome and tried to act like that was normal. Less than a year later, airplanes flew into office buildings, and everybody cried for two months. And then Enron went bankrupt, and the U.S. started acting like a rogue state, and "The Simple Life" premiered, and gasoline became unaffordable, and our Olympic basketball team lost to Puerto Rico, and we reelected the same president we never really elected in the first place. Later, there would be some especially devastating hurricanes and three Oscars for an especially bad movie called "Crash."Things, as they say, have been better."-Chuck Klosterman
Okay, well I liked "Crash" and I think "The Simple Life" is funny because they really are THAT DUMB in real life. Other than that, yea, I pretty much agree.
"In November 2000, the United States held a presidential election, and nobody knew who won, so we just kind of made up an outcome and tried to act like that was normal. Less than a year later, airplanes flew into office buildings, and everybody cried for two months. And then Enron went bankrupt, and the U.S. started acting like a rogue state, and "The Simple Life" premiered, and gasoline became unaffordable, and our Olympic basketball team lost to Puerto Rico, and we reelected the same president we never really elected in the first place. Later, there would be some especially devastating hurricanes and three Oscars for an especially bad movie called "Crash."Things, as they say, have been better."-Chuck Klosterman
Okay, well I liked "Crash" and I think "The Simple Life" is funny because they really are THAT DUMB in real life. Other than that, yea, I pretty much agree.
4.11.2006
Reminded
Although I don't officially move until the first weekend of May, I've been taking the time lately to go through all of the stuff I've accumulated in the past 25 years. Yesterday, I took on my desk: This gorgeous, real wood, roll-top number that I got when I was probably about 8. The insides of the drawers still smell like the original new desk smell.
That desk has certainly seen it's fair share of stuff, so yesterday I set about cleaning out the bottom drawer. I've always considered it my "file" drawer, where all my old papers and stories and journals and stuff went. I'm sure you'll see some of my former work resurface here.
I came across an old journal from college and opened to a random page. And stepped back in time, to the first semester of my junior year (that would be late 2001, for those of your keeping score). I read the pages greedily, and then found myself flipping the pages to the front part of the journal and starting over again. I am grateful that I took the time to chronicle that part of my life; even if reading it reminded me of sadder times.
The page that I randomly flipped to detailed the break up with my college boyfriend, Joe. I was very much in love with him at the time that I'd written the entry - and the one after that, and the one after that.... Some of the pages were a little smeared with long since forgotten tears. Sometimes, the script was hastily scrawled, as if I'd been rushing to commit my thoughts to paper. Other times, it was very neat and measured; I must have put a lot of thought into those entries. In the early part of the journal, there was happiness, giddiness, excitement. An overwhelming outpouring of emotions that were too big, too much for the pages. At the end, there was pain, and bitterness. Grief. Loss.
But as I continued reading past the break up and the disintegration of the friendship that followed, the entries about or pertaining to Joe became less and less frequent. The journal started taking the shape of my life that year - where I'd gone, the men I'd dated, the friends I'd had. I'm not sure what facilitated the healing of my heart, whether it was time passing or the gradual mellowing of my feelings. The last few entries didn't mention him at all.
It was good to be reminded of our relationship. I remembered how much I'd hurt when it ended. But I also remembered how much and how deeply I had loved this person. To be able to read about my life at that time, to think about Joe and what transpired between us - good and bad - to be able to look back on it fondly and without regret is truly a gift. There is no more pain, bitterness, grief or sense of loss. Only the knowledge and happiness that he has a good life now, and a hope that it will continue.
I smiled to myself, thinking back on that time. And then I put the journal away in a safe place. It won't come with me when I move. It will stay in a box at my parents' house, gathering dust but not forgotten. Waiting for me to be reminded again.
That desk has certainly seen it's fair share of stuff, so yesterday I set about cleaning out the bottom drawer. I've always considered it my "file" drawer, where all my old papers and stories and journals and stuff went. I'm sure you'll see some of my former work resurface here.
I came across an old journal from college and opened to a random page. And stepped back in time, to the first semester of my junior year (that would be late 2001, for those of your keeping score). I read the pages greedily, and then found myself flipping the pages to the front part of the journal and starting over again. I am grateful that I took the time to chronicle that part of my life; even if reading it reminded me of sadder times.
The page that I randomly flipped to detailed the break up with my college boyfriend, Joe. I was very much in love with him at the time that I'd written the entry - and the one after that, and the one after that.... Some of the pages were a little smeared with long since forgotten tears. Sometimes, the script was hastily scrawled, as if I'd been rushing to commit my thoughts to paper. Other times, it was very neat and measured; I must have put a lot of thought into those entries. In the early part of the journal, there was happiness, giddiness, excitement. An overwhelming outpouring of emotions that were too big, too much for the pages. At the end, there was pain, and bitterness. Grief. Loss.
But as I continued reading past the break up and the disintegration of the friendship that followed, the entries about or pertaining to Joe became less and less frequent. The journal started taking the shape of my life that year - where I'd gone, the men I'd dated, the friends I'd had. I'm not sure what facilitated the healing of my heart, whether it was time passing or the gradual mellowing of my feelings. The last few entries didn't mention him at all.
It was good to be reminded of our relationship. I remembered how much I'd hurt when it ended. But I also remembered how much and how deeply I had loved this person. To be able to read about my life at that time, to think about Joe and what transpired between us - good and bad - to be able to look back on it fondly and without regret is truly a gift. There is no more pain, bitterness, grief or sense of loss. Only the knowledge and happiness that he has a good life now, and a hope that it will continue.
I smiled to myself, thinking back on that time. And then I put the journal away in a safe place. It won't come with me when I move. It will stay in a box at my parents' house, gathering dust but not forgotten. Waiting for me to be reminded again.
4.07.2006
Parental Control
I was watching a show on BET the other night called "My Two Cents". Music videos intersperse the discussion of everything from Hollywood to issues relating to gender, race and culture. The contributers are four African American 20-somethings, but they also include comments from people they've stopped on the street.
The four contributors were sitting around talking about Angelina Jolie and the fact that she has adopted baby Zahara from Africa. The question arose: "Do you have a problem with a white woman raising a Black baby?" One of the contributors said flat-out that she absolutely had a problem with it.
"A white person can't teach a Black child about their culture or their roots. The Black culture is very unique, and that can't be replicated in a white home."
Another contributor responded, "But don't you think that a white person might work twice as hard to learn about the Black culture and teach it to their adopted child?"
"I suppose that could be true," said the first contributor. "I just don't think it is right."
Now, I realize that I don't have a lot of room to comment on the Black culture vs. the white culture. Nor do I have a lot of room to judge the contributor's comments. But the way that she was so disdainful of the thought of white parents raising a black baby was surprising to me. A sort of reverse racism that I wasn't expecting.
I guess I think of it like this: If a family is willing to and capable of loving and raising a child - whether it is their natural child or an adopted child - shouldn't they be free to do so?! Does the color of the parent's skin matter?
There are a couple of different tangents that I started thinking about:
Cultural influences
What distinguishes the Black culture from the white culture? If a Black child is well-educated, well-spoken and achieves levels of greatness beyond athletics, they are considered "bougie". If a white child likes hip-hop, speaks ebonics and wears a do-rag, they are considered a "wigger". Both terms are equally insulting, because they suggest that a person's upbringing and interests must be dictated by the color of their skin.
But beyond the outward appearances, what influences do Black children get at home that white children don't get? Is there a deep understanding and appreciation for the struggles of their forefathers, for the unfettered beauty and cruelty of their African homeland? Are family roles and expectations different?
Criteria for parenthood
I firmly believe that is isn't the color of the parent or child's skin that makes them a family. It is the love that they share. For adoptive parents, they child you bring home with you is YOUR CHILD. You don't love it any less than you would a biological child. To me, it shouldn't matter if I am a white woman raising a black child.
Good parents can be measured by the following: Teaching your child to respect everyone, not just their elders; Teaching your child goodness, kindness, altruism, humanity, what it means to be a good person; Teaching your child to love, and how to love in a healthy way; Teaching your child to respect themselves; Teaching your child to embrace their intelect, to make their own way, to worry not about what other people think of them, but what they think of themselves.
So why would this Black contributor to "My Two Cents" care what color skin makes up the family unit. What are white parents missing out on? What can Black parents teach Black children than white parents can't?
I'm not sure, but I'd love for you all to weigh in.
The four contributors were sitting around talking about Angelina Jolie and the fact that she has adopted baby Zahara from Africa. The question arose: "Do you have a problem with a white woman raising a Black baby?" One of the contributors said flat-out that she absolutely had a problem with it.
"A white person can't teach a Black child about their culture or their roots. The Black culture is very unique, and that can't be replicated in a white home."
Another contributor responded, "But don't you think that a white person might work twice as hard to learn about the Black culture and teach it to their adopted child?"
"I suppose that could be true," said the first contributor. "I just don't think it is right."
Now, I realize that I don't have a lot of room to comment on the Black culture vs. the white culture. Nor do I have a lot of room to judge the contributor's comments. But the way that she was so disdainful of the thought of white parents raising a black baby was surprising to me. A sort of reverse racism that I wasn't expecting.
I guess I think of it like this: If a family is willing to and capable of loving and raising a child - whether it is their natural child or an adopted child - shouldn't they be free to do so?! Does the color of the parent's skin matter?
There are a couple of different tangents that I started thinking about:
Cultural influences
What distinguishes the Black culture from the white culture? If a Black child is well-educated, well-spoken and achieves levels of greatness beyond athletics, they are considered "bougie". If a white child likes hip-hop, speaks ebonics and wears a do-rag, they are considered a "wigger". Both terms are equally insulting, because they suggest that a person's upbringing and interests must be dictated by the color of their skin.
But beyond the outward appearances, what influences do Black children get at home that white children don't get? Is there a deep understanding and appreciation for the struggles of their forefathers, for the unfettered beauty and cruelty of their African homeland? Are family roles and expectations different?
Criteria for parenthood
I firmly believe that is isn't the color of the parent or child's skin that makes them a family. It is the love that they share. For adoptive parents, they child you bring home with you is YOUR CHILD. You don't love it any less than you would a biological child. To me, it shouldn't matter if I am a white woman raising a black child.
Good parents can be measured by the following: Teaching your child to respect everyone, not just their elders; Teaching your child goodness, kindness, altruism, humanity, what it means to be a good person; Teaching your child to love, and how to love in a healthy way; Teaching your child to respect themselves; Teaching your child to embrace their intelect, to make their own way, to worry not about what other people think of them, but what they think of themselves.
So why would this Black contributor to "My Two Cents" care what color skin makes up the family unit. What are white parents missing out on? What can Black parents teach Black children than white parents can't?
I'm not sure, but I'd love for you all to weigh in.
4.06.2006
Um, hello?!
Stupid horoscope: "Money matters should be going very well for you right now, dear Pisces, and therefore today you might decide to make a long-desired expenditure concerning your home. You might decide to buy some furniture, do a little redecorating, or even go out and purchase a new home. Land investments might also warrant some considerations. Whatever you do, you'll enjoy doing it, and the results could make a very positive difference in your home life. Enjoy!"
Maybe this means I'm going to win the lottery today...
Maybe this means I'm going to win the lottery today...
4.05.2006
StrEsSed OuT!
I have a little less than a month to move into my new place, and I have no furniture. Plus, I have no money to buy furniture. And since I'm currently debt-free, this does not bode well for my future financial security. Relations are strained with my mom, whom I'm very close to. And my car insurance was due TODAY and I forgot to mail the check. I had a total meltdown a few hours ago.
Shit.
Shit.
4.04.2006
Doncha wish your girlfriend was hot like me?
Okay, the song "Doncha" from the Pussycat Dolls. You know the one: Doncha wish your girlfriend was hot like me?/Doncha wish your girlfriend was fun like me?/Doncha wish your girlfriend was raw like me?/Doncha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?
Do guys think that like?!
I mean, if you are dating a total bitch, then yeah, you're probably wishing your girl had more of those qualities. But if you were dating the object of desire in the song "Doncha" sounds kind of slutty to me.
Just something I'm thinking about today.
Do guys think that like?!
I mean, if you are dating a total bitch, then yeah, you're probably wishing your girl had more of those qualities. But if you were dating the object of desire in the song "Doncha" sounds kind of slutty to me.
Just something I'm thinking about today.
4.02.2006
Let the packing begin!
I found it! I found it! I found it I found it I found it!!!!
And by "it", I mean an apartment. AKA a place to live when I relocate to Cincinnati in two weeks.
Here's how I found it: My best friend Rebecca's mom is dating a guy named Mike. Mike's son Greg just signed a lease with his friend Matt. Matt just bought a two-family home in Hyde Park, a suburb about 10 minutes north of downtown Cincinnati. It's a smattering between old money and young professionals. Bars, shops, restaurants and a mall 5 minutes away. So, perfect, right?
Anyway, Matt wanted to rent out the first floor apartment of this two-family home. And when Rebecca told Greg that I was moving to Cincinnati and looking for places in Hyde Park, he offered up the afore-mentioned apartment.
So I looked at it this weekend, and it is PERFECT. Okay, well, the closet space sucks. And the bedroom is a little small. But the kitchen is NEW, the living room and office are HUGE, the place has CHARACTER and it is perfect for me. Plus, it is within my price range, Matt's giving me the first month free and a minimal security deposit AND I'll have two guys that I can trust (one of which is my landlord) living above me to help me out if I get into any trouble. I think this is called kismet. Or serendipity. Or just plain good luck.
I can't move in until the first weekend of May, because Matt doesn't take ownership of the house until May 1. But I can use that week to clean and paint and figure out where my (currently nonexistant) furniture will go.
Speaking of which, I have a couch picked out, a duvet cover picked out and a bedroom set picked out. I just have to have a firm delivery date in mind and then I can actually BUY all of this furniture. I need a kitchen table and chairs, but I found some at IKEA that are cute and workable. So, really, I just need paint colors and to actually purchase the furniture and I'm good to go.
Things are happening, people! Let the packing begin!
And by "it", I mean an apartment. AKA a place to live when I relocate to Cincinnati in two weeks.
Here's how I found it: My best friend Rebecca's mom is dating a guy named Mike. Mike's son Greg just signed a lease with his friend Matt. Matt just bought a two-family home in Hyde Park, a suburb about 10 minutes north of downtown Cincinnati. It's a smattering between old money and young professionals. Bars, shops, restaurants and a mall 5 minutes away. So, perfect, right?
Anyway, Matt wanted to rent out the first floor apartment of this two-family home. And when Rebecca told Greg that I was moving to Cincinnati and looking for places in Hyde Park, he offered up the afore-mentioned apartment.
So I looked at it this weekend, and it is PERFECT. Okay, well, the closet space sucks. And the bedroom is a little small. But the kitchen is NEW, the living room and office are HUGE, the place has CHARACTER and it is perfect for me. Plus, it is within my price range, Matt's giving me the first month free and a minimal security deposit AND I'll have two guys that I can trust (one of which is my landlord) living above me to help me out if I get into any trouble. I think this is called kismet. Or serendipity. Or just plain good luck.
I can't move in until the first weekend of May, because Matt doesn't take ownership of the house until May 1. But I can use that week to clean and paint and figure out where my (currently nonexistant) furniture will go.
Speaking of which, I have a couch picked out, a duvet cover picked out and a bedroom set picked out. I just have to have a firm delivery date in mind and then I can actually BUY all of this furniture. I need a kitchen table and chairs, but I found some at IKEA that are cute and workable. So, really, I just need paint colors and to actually purchase the furniture and I'm good to go.
Things are happening, people! Let the packing begin!
3.29.2006
Taking Stock
This is my 50th post. When I started this blog six months ago, I didn't really know if I'd find the words to fill up all the blank spaces. I didn't know if anyone would read it. I didn't know if anyone would care. But it has been a good outlet for me. A place where I can vent my feelings and frustrations. I feel like I've accomplished a lot in the six months that I've had my spot on the web.
There have been so many changes in my life recently that I've been forced to kind of take stock. The 50th anniversary of my first post inspired me to recap what I've been through. I think you'll agree that it has been a pretty amazing six months.
September
In September, I admitted to the fact that my relationship with Andy was officially over. I decided not to cry into my vodka tonics about it for too long, and started putting into motion plans for a new, improved, better Lauren model.
Part of that plan was my first adult vacation. I took vacation time and a few hundred bucks and went to Hawaii. Maui, to be exact. One of the most beautiful locations on Earth. The trip itself was not beautiful, and resulted in the elimination of a long-standing friendship.
October
In October, I got my spot on the web. I started slowly. I also moved forward with plans for a breast reduction, a surgery that I have wanted most of my adult life.
November
In November, I cut my hair, which I'd been growing out long for two years. Suddenly, I could see my neck again. I also saw Andy for the first time since "the break up", which was kind of the turning point in our pseudo-friendship-relationship-mad chemistry that won't go away-thing. And thus began the "let's sleep together" ongoing cycle of bad decision making.
December
In December, I wrote a passive-aggressive blog post about my friendship with one of my best friends ever. Luckily, we moved on. My breast reduction surgery was approved. My job search officially began. And for the first time, I went to a movie by myself.
January
In January, it became apparent that the ex-sex thing with Andy wasn't working. I also started the official "moving on" process by going out on bunches of dates - none of which really worked out, but helped me get over the hump. One of the biggest decisions came in cutting off all ties to another long-standing friend, affectionately referred to as Mr. Big. He was my first love, the person who claims to want to marry me, but never does anything about it. I decided I had enough and didn't want to talk to him anymore.
February
Here's where it really got interesting. I had a HUGE breast reduction, which drastically affected my ability to do even the most basic tasks. I took four weeks off from work. I also retooled my resume and began looking for jobs in earnest.
March
In March, things got even more interesting. I took an art class - my first - and I did it by myself. I found a job that will be perfect for me in this next phase of my career. I resigned from my first job ever. I decided to move to Cincinnati, which also required me to move out of my parents' house for the first time since college ended. I saw Andy and repeated the dreaded cycle. Then I realized how much of my feelings are still tied to this man, how much I still care about him and how much a part of me still hopes that we might work out in the future.
Re: Andy, I've realized that I need to just not talk to him at all. When we're not really talking or hanging out, I think back on our relationship realistically: It was a lot of fun, I fell in love with a great guy, but it just wasn't what or who I wanted to deal with at this point in my life. When we are talking a lot or hanging out, I think back on our relationship in a more romanticized, "it was so great" way. Each time I see him, I remember why I fell for him in the first place, and I feel sad that we ended. We have chemistry together that is out of this world; but great chemistry doesn't mean shit if you can't get along or you don't know how to love the other person, or even if you can. So no more dwelling on it or thinking about it.
I've made a lot of touch choices and a lot of tough decisions in the past 6 months. I found when I was setting up this post that I can measure the past 6 months in big steps. Sometimes, you need to take big steps to get where you want to go. I feel like I'm on the right track. I'm excited to see how long my legs will stretch.
There have been so many changes in my life recently that I've been forced to kind of take stock. The 50th anniversary of my first post inspired me to recap what I've been through. I think you'll agree that it has been a pretty amazing six months.
September
In September, I admitted to the fact that my relationship with Andy was officially over. I decided not to cry into my vodka tonics about it for too long, and started putting into motion plans for a new, improved, better Lauren model.Part of that plan was my first adult vacation. I took vacation time and a few hundred bucks and went to Hawaii. Maui, to be exact. One of the most beautiful locations on Earth. The trip itself was not beautiful, and resulted in the elimination of a long-standing friendship.
October
In October, I got my spot on the web. I started slowly. I also moved forward with plans for a breast reduction, a surgery that I have wanted most of my adult life.
November
In November, I cut my hair, which I'd been growing out long for two years. Suddenly, I could see my neck again. I also saw Andy for the first time since "the break up", which was kind of the turning point in our pseudo-friendship-relationship-mad chemistry that won't go away-thing. And thus began the "let's sleep together" ongoing cycle of bad decision making.
December
In December, I wrote a passive-aggressive blog post about my friendship with one of my best friends ever. Luckily, we moved on. My breast reduction surgery was approved. My job search officially began. And for the first time, I went to a movie by myself.
January
In January, it became apparent that the ex-sex thing with Andy wasn't working. I also started the official "moving on" process by going out on bunches of dates - none of which really worked out, but helped me get over the hump. One of the biggest decisions came in cutting off all ties to another long-standing friend, affectionately referred to as Mr. Big. He was my first love, the person who claims to want to marry me, but never does anything about it. I decided I had enough and didn't want to talk to him anymore.
February
Here's where it really got interesting. I had a HUGE breast reduction, which drastically affected my ability to do even the most basic tasks. I took four weeks off from work. I also retooled my resume and began looking for jobs in earnest.
March
In March, things got even more interesting. I took an art class - my first - and I did it by myself. I found a job that will be perfect for me in this next phase of my career. I resigned from my first job ever. I decided to move to Cincinnati, which also required me to move out of my parents' house for the first time since college ended. I saw Andy and repeated the dreaded cycle. Then I realized how much of my feelings are still tied to this man, how much I still care about him and how much a part of me still hopes that we might work out in the future.
Re: Andy, I've realized that I need to just not talk to him at all. When we're not really talking or hanging out, I think back on our relationship realistically: It was a lot of fun, I fell in love with a great guy, but it just wasn't what or who I wanted to deal with at this point in my life. When we are talking a lot or hanging out, I think back on our relationship in a more romanticized, "it was so great" way. Each time I see him, I remember why I fell for him in the first place, and I feel sad that we ended. We have chemistry together that is out of this world; but great chemistry doesn't mean shit if you can't get along or you don't know how to love the other person, or even if you can. So no more dwelling on it or thinking about it.
I've made a lot of touch choices and a lot of tough decisions in the past 6 months. I found when I was setting up this post that I can measure the past 6 months in big steps. Sometimes, you need to take big steps to get where you want to go. I feel like I'm on the right track. I'm excited to see how long my legs will stretch.
3.25.2006
Apartment hunting
I went apartment hunting today. It was so exciting! I toured one place, then drove up to another that I'm touring next weekend, just to check out the neighborhood. Then I went shopping for a sofa. This is so weird! I feel like a real, live adult!
My next post shall be my 50th post. Can you believe it?! I think I'll have to make it a special one...
My next post shall be my 50th post. Can you believe it?! I think I'll have to make it a special one...
3.23.2006
What are the stars telling me?!
I'm not usually one to put a lot of thought into what my horoscope says each day. But given the events of the past couple of days, I'm sort of freaking out and wondering what this morning's prediction really means:
There could be a tough lesson in store for you today, dear Pisces. More than likely, the harder it hits you, the more of a message it is that you need to hear. Indeed, it is important for you to accept failure gracefully. It could be that the one who kicks you when you are down will also be the one who helps you get up. There are strange twists to this day that you may not be expecting. Take things in stride.
Well, I'm already down, because outside of the potential new job, my week has kind of sucked. I'm hoping that whoever kicks me at least avoids my chest - I still have all those stitches!!!
There could be a tough lesson in store for you today, dear Pisces. More than likely, the harder it hits you, the more of a message it is that you need to hear. Indeed, it is important for you to accept failure gracefully. It could be that the one who kicks you when you are down will also be the one who helps you get up. There are strange twists to this day that you may not be expecting. Take things in stride.
Well, I'm already down, because outside of the potential new job, my week has kind of sucked. I'm hoping that whoever kicks me at least avoids my chest - I still have all those stitches!!!
3.22.2006
Making a mistake?
I emailed the agency in Cleveland yesterday and told them that I've received an offer from the agency in Cincinnati that I'm planning to accept. I wanted to let them know they should focus their attention on another candidate, because this offer is just too good to pass up.
They called me just now and tried to talk me out of it. I told them: The opportunity to work with these clients is really great and not one I'd pass up. Would I talk to the CEO? Sure, but I'm close to accepting. I talked to the CEO - how close are you? We'd love to have you, is there any way you'd change your mind?
It comes down to a few small points, I tell him. The benefits are better at the other agency. The client list is impressive. What agency? I tell him. What clients? Procter and Gamble, IHOP, Verizon Wireless. Oh. He gives me a standing job offer.
I wish I'd found out how much they were going to offer, so I could go back to the agency where I plan to work and counter offer. But I didn't, I just politely declined, thanked them for their time and hung up. And now I wonder: Should I have just accepted the Cleveland job? Should I have heard what they have to offer and then gone from there? Am I making a mistake?
*** Okay, well I did it. I committed to the Cincinnati job. I talked the guy up and scored a relocation bonus, so if you count the relocation bonus, I'm actually making $1,000 more than what I would have settled for. Which might not seem like much in the long run, but for a first-time negotiator, it felt pretty good. I never did hear from the #1 agency where I wanted to work, but if they came in with an 11th-hour offer, I wouldn't necessarily walk away from this agency. I'm excited about my (new) job - something I haven't felt in a long time! Now if I could just stop worrying about how my whole salary will pan out once the government takes 30% of what I make, I'll be okay. :) ***
They called me just now and tried to talk me out of it. I told them: The opportunity to work with these clients is really great and not one I'd pass up. Would I talk to the CEO? Sure, but I'm close to accepting. I talked to the CEO - how close are you? We'd love to have you, is there any way you'd change your mind?
It comes down to a few small points, I tell him. The benefits are better at the other agency. The client list is impressive. What agency? I tell him. What clients? Procter and Gamble, IHOP, Verizon Wireless. Oh. He gives me a standing job offer.
I wish I'd found out how much they were going to offer, so I could go back to the agency where I plan to work and counter offer. But I didn't, I just politely declined, thanked them for their time and hung up. And now I wonder: Should I have just accepted the Cleveland job? Should I have heard what they have to offer and then gone from there? Am I making a mistake?
*** Okay, well I did it. I committed to the Cincinnati job. I talked the guy up and scored a relocation bonus, so if you count the relocation bonus, I'm actually making $1,000 more than what I would have settled for. Which might not seem like much in the long run, but for a first-time negotiator, it felt pretty good. I never did hear from the #1 agency where I wanted to work, but if they came in with an 11th-hour offer, I wouldn't necessarily walk away from this agency. I'm excited about my (new) job - something I haven't felt in a long time! Now if I could just stop worrying about how my whole salary will pan out once the government takes 30% of what I make, I'll be okay. :) ***
3.21.2006
Playing catch up
Wow, has it really been this long since I've written? Jeez! I guess I could use the excuse that I've been really busy. Here's a quick synopsis:
1) Went back to work full time following my surgery. It wore me the hell out.
2) Went to Cleveland for St. Patrick's Day and a job interview and stayed with my FABULOUS friends Bob and Stacie. They are two of my Favorite People, since we went to college together. I heart them very much. This is my officially shout out, Bobba! :) I had a great time, and the company was pretty cool because they agreed to meet with me on a Saturday.
3) Went out on Saturday. Drama sort of ensued. There is this guy who is friends with an ex. He's hit on me multiple times, but nothing has ever happened because I will not let it. I mean, he's friends with an ex, like I'd ever go there. Is he attractive? Yes. Do I flirt with him? Hell yes. (This might be a mistake - maybe I should stop being such a flirt.) But am I attracted to him? No. And do I want to sleep with him? Hell no.
Well, on Saturday night he and my ex apparently had a conversation to the effect that he wants to hook up with me. Oops - he made the #1 mistake of assuming that because he wants to sleep with me, his feelings are automatically returned. Never assume to know what I'm thinking. Jeez, the ex could have told him that! Regardless, the ex appears to be okay with this situation. Um, hello? Isn't that against The Code?
It really is as simple as the fact that I have too much integrity and too much class and too much respect for my previous relationship and too much respect for my ex in general to ever consider hooking up with one of his friends - not to mention absolutely no desire to do it. And it hurts me that he thinks that I would. And it hurts me that he'd just be okay with it.
So maybe that is why I had ex sex on Saturday night?! Those of you who have been with me a while can just shut it - I know what you're thinking and I don't care. It was sooooo good.
4) Got a job offer from the #2 choice. Heard from the #1 choice I'm still being considered. Expecting the #3 choice to call me this week, too. By the way, Brian, the #2 choice is the one that does PR for IHOP. Get that proposal ready. ;)
5) Almost completely lost my voice. Got a flat tire. In the snow and slush and 3 inch heels. Ick.
So that's the 5 minute update on my life!
1) Went back to work full time following my surgery. It wore me the hell out.
2) Went to Cleveland for St. Patrick's Day and a job interview and stayed with my FABULOUS friends Bob and Stacie. They are two of my Favorite People, since we went to college together. I heart them very much. This is my officially shout out, Bobba! :) I had a great time, and the company was pretty cool because they agreed to meet with me on a Saturday.
3) Went out on Saturday. Drama sort of ensued. There is this guy who is friends with an ex. He's hit on me multiple times, but nothing has ever happened because I will not let it. I mean, he's friends with an ex, like I'd ever go there. Is he attractive? Yes. Do I flirt with him? Hell yes. (This might be a mistake - maybe I should stop being such a flirt.) But am I attracted to him? No. And do I want to sleep with him? Hell no.
Well, on Saturday night he and my ex apparently had a conversation to the effect that he wants to hook up with me. Oops - he made the #1 mistake of assuming that because he wants to sleep with me, his feelings are automatically returned. Never assume to know what I'm thinking. Jeez, the ex could have told him that! Regardless, the ex appears to be okay with this situation. Um, hello? Isn't that against The Code?
It really is as simple as the fact that I have too much integrity and too much class and too much respect for my previous relationship and too much respect for my ex in general to ever consider hooking up with one of his friends - not to mention absolutely no desire to do it. And it hurts me that he thinks that I would. And it hurts me that he'd just be okay with it.
So maybe that is why I had ex sex on Saturday night?! Those of you who have been with me a while can just shut it - I know what you're thinking and I don't care. It was sooooo good.
4) Got a job offer from the #2 choice. Heard from the #1 choice I'm still being considered. Expecting the #3 choice to call me this week, too. By the way, Brian, the #2 choice is the one that does PR for IHOP. Get that proposal ready. ;)
5) Almost completely lost my voice. Got a flat tire. In the snow and slush and 3 inch heels. Ick.
So that's the 5 minute update on my life!
3.13.2006
Cowardice
Cow·ard·ice (noun): Ignoble fear in the face of danger or pain. The trait of lacking courage.
What does it mean to be a coward? Each person will have a different definition. To me, a coward is someone who doesn't know how to pick on someone his own size. A coward kicks a puppy. A coward steals a purse from an old lady. A coward calls people names when he knows they can't - or won't - retaliate.
I was forced to consider cowardice in all its forms recently. I'll share with you a story that has my Irish temper aflame - and my family loyalty bursting at the seams:
My youngest brother is a senior in highschool. He is a super good guy: Doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, doesn't do drugs. It doesn't interest him, and he doesn't buy in to all that peer pressure shit. He has a very strong sense of self and a very strong moral compass.
When one of his friends - I'll call him Jethro because I'm feeling spiteful - turned 18, he received a "magnanimous gesture" gift - his father offered to drive Jethro and 4 or 5 of his friends to Florida for Spring Break. Of course, the father asked Jethro to ask one of his friends who has a condo in Florida, so that they could stay there for free.
So Jethro asked my brother and 4 other friends to go on Spring Break with him. My parents weren't thrilled. Partially because Jethro is an immature ass clown and is really annoying after about, oh, 10 minutes. Partially because Jethro's dad is an irresponsible ass clown, the type of guy who'd buy the kids a case of beer and advise them to have unprotected sex with as many girls as possible while playing with guns.
My brother, with his strong sense of self and strong moral compass, wasn't particularly hyped up on going, either. He knows Jethro is an ass clow, and he doesn't like Jethro's dad. He turned down Jethro's offer; wisely, he blamed it all on our parents. "My mom and dad don't really want me to go on Spring Break," he said. "I'm bummed, but what can you do?" (Editor's Aside: Interestingly enough, all but one of the other kid's parents also said they couldn't go (including the one with the condo - DAMN!). Jethro's dad has a bit of a reputation, you see. As does Jethro.)
My brother and two friends went over to Jethro's house this weekend - the four of them are in a band and they needed to practice. Imagine my brother's surprise when Jethro's dad said, "So I heard you're not going on Spring Break. Sissy." He called my brother a sissy twice more throughout the course of the day, with no provocation and incredibly, no reason. And my brother, sweet 18 year old boy that he is, was so taken aback that the father of a friend, an adult, would call him a sissy - not once, not twice but three times! - that he couldn't even form a response.
Seriously? No, SERIOUSLY?! I mean, how fucked up is that?! And how insulting, how embarassing, to be called a sissy in front of all of your friends, to be defenseless against it and surprised into shocked silence because it comes from an adult. This man's behavior - perhaps even his ability to be a parent - is appalling. (Editor's Aside: And I mean really, who uses the word sissy nowadays anyway?)
My mother and I traded looks. Then we traded insults. And comebacks. And "I'll kick his ass"es. Later, when my brother had gone, we did it again. And again later that evening. And tonight at dinner. My brother doesn't want my mom to say anything. My mom doesn't know how she can't.
Cowardice: The trait of lacking courage. But also, the trait of lacking dignity, morality or any sense of decency. The inability to pick on someone your own size.
What does it mean to be a coward? Each person will have a different definition. To me, a coward is someone who doesn't know how to pick on someone his own size. A coward kicks a puppy. A coward steals a purse from an old lady. A coward calls people names when he knows they can't - or won't - retaliate.
I was forced to consider cowardice in all its forms recently. I'll share with you a story that has my Irish temper aflame - and my family loyalty bursting at the seams:
My youngest brother is a senior in highschool. He is a super good guy: Doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, doesn't do drugs. It doesn't interest him, and he doesn't buy in to all that peer pressure shit. He has a very strong sense of self and a very strong moral compass.
When one of his friends - I'll call him Jethro because I'm feeling spiteful - turned 18, he received a "magnanimous gesture" gift - his father offered to drive Jethro and 4 or 5 of his friends to Florida for Spring Break. Of course, the father asked Jethro to ask one of his friends who has a condo in Florida, so that they could stay there for free.
So Jethro asked my brother and 4 other friends to go on Spring Break with him. My parents weren't thrilled. Partially because Jethro is an immature ass clown and is really annoying after about, oh, 10 minutes. Partially because Jethro's dad is an irresponsible ass clown, the type of guy who'd buy the kids a case of beer and advise them to have unprotected sex with as many girls as possible while playing with guns.
My brother, with his strong sense of self and strong moral compass, wasn't particularly hyped up on going, either. He knows Jethro is an ass clow, and he doesn't like Jethro's dad. He turned down Jethro's offer; wisely, he blamed it all on our parents. "My mom and dad don't really want me to go on Spring Break," he said. "I'm bummed, but what can you do?" (Editor's Aside: Interestingly enough, all but one of the other kid's parents also said they couldn't go (including the one with the condo - DAMN!). Jethro's dad has a bit of a reputation, you see. As does Jethro.)
My brother and two friends went over to Jethro's house this weekend - the four of them are in a band and they needed to practice. Imagine my brother's surprise when Jethro's dad said, "So I heard you're not going on Spring Break. Sissy." He called my brother a sissy twice more throughout the course of the day, with no provocation and incredibly, no reason. And my brother, sweet 18 year old boy that he is, was so taken aback that the father of a friend, an adult, would call him a sissy - not once, not twice but three times! - that he couldn't even form a response.
Seriously? No, SERIOUSLY?! I mean, how fucked up is that?! And how insulting, how embarassing, to be called a sissy in front of all of your friends, to be defenseless against it and surprised into shocked silence because it comes from an adult. This man's behavior - perhaps even his ability to be a parent - is appalling. (Editor's Aside: And I mean really, who uses the word sissy nowadays anyway?)
My mother and I traded looks. Then we traded insults. And comebacks. And "I'll kick his ass"es. Later, when my brother had gone, we did it again. And again later that evening. And tonight at dinner. My brother doesn't want my mom to say anything. My mom doesn't know how she can't.
Cowardice: The trait of lacking courage. But also, the trait of lacking dignity, morality or any sense of decency. The inability to pick on someone your own size.
3.09.2006
Big Day! Big Day!
Tomorrow is a big day. Tomorrow, I plan to:
- Interview at a really good PR agency in downtown Cincinnati (they do PR for IHOP!!! That is International House Of Pancakes for the acronym-impaired. I could be pushin' pancakes! This makes me happy, for I dearly love pancakes.)
- Go to Rebecca's house to get cute
- Go out to dinner in downtown Cincy with Rebecca before meeting Jen for the Michael Buble concert.
This is important for a few reasons. 1) Because it will be my first packed-full day since my surgery. 2) Because I heart Michael Buble and 3) Because Rebecca is one of my Favorite People.
I had a phone interview today with a company in Cleveland. It went really well. They want to bring me in for an in-person interview. I am not sure I necessarily want to move to Cleveland. But then I wonder what is stopping me? Why do I have to move just to a place where I want to move? Why can't I move somewhere that I've never pictured myself? I could have fun! So we'll see. They have a meeting on Monday to decide next steps, but I'm pretty sure they'll be calling me next week to see about my availability.
So for those of you who are counting, that is three interviews in one week. Good record.
Upwards and onwards, folks!
(PS - It is a good day today. Can you tell? Plus, I saw "Walk The Line" and even though it was a really loooooooong movie, it was pretty good.)
- Interview at a really good PR agency in downtown Cincinnati (they do PR for IHOP!!! That is International House Of Pancakes for the acronym-impaired. I could be pushin' pancakes! This makes me happy, for I dearly love pancakes.)
- Go to Rebecca's house to get cute
- Go out to dinner in downtown Cincy with Rebecca before meeting Jen for the Michael Buble concert.
This is important for a few reasons. 1) Because it will be my first packed-full day since my surgery. 2) Because I heart Michael Buble and 3) Because Rebecca is one of my Favorite People.
I had a phone interview today with a company in Cleveland. It went really well. They want to bring me in for an in-person interview. I am not sure I necessarily want to move to Cleveland. But then I wonder what is stopping me? Why do I have to move just to a place where I want to move? Why can't I move somewhere that I've never pictured myself? I could have fun! So we'll see. They have a meeting on Monday to decide next steps, but I'm pretty sure they'll be calling me next week to see about my availability.
So for those of you who are counting, that is three interviews in one week. Good record.
Upwards and onwards, folks!
(PS - It is a good day today. Can you tell? Plus, I saw "Walk The Line" and even though it was a really loooooooong movie, it was pretty good.)
3.08.2006
I'm 25 and other unrelated thoughts
I'm officially 25. That is sort of scary, because it is the end of my early 20s and beginning of my mid-20s. There are so many things I thought I would have accomplished by now. I'm determined not to be depressed by this situation.
I'm nervous: I went on a job interview on Friday for a job I really, really, really, REALLY want. I don't think I'll get it. Damn!
In keeping with my New Year's Resolutions, I am attending an ART CLASS on Saturday! I'm really excited. The Dayton Art Institute offers various classes to its members on a rotating basis, and the little workshop being offered on Saturday morning deals with the making of dichroic glass jewelry. I'm not sure what that means, exactly, but I'm really excited to find out.
I'm nervous: I went on a job interview on Friday for a job I really, really, really, REALLY want. I don't think I'll get it. Damn!
In keeping with my New Year's Resolutions, I am attending an ART CLASS on Saturday! I'm really excited. The Dayton Art Institute offers various classes to its members on a rotating basis, and the little workshop being offered on Saturday morning deals with the making of dichroic glass jewelry. I'm not sure what that means, exactly, but I'm really excited to find out.
3.02.2006
Tired
*** Editor's Note: I wrote this on less than 2 hours sleep, so the overall tone of this post is pretty cranky. I considered telling you, my dear dear readers, not to make any comments at all, because they would probably just piss me off. Then I considered that not hearing your feedback would probably just piss me off, too. So consider yourelf forewarned as to the paradoxical nature of this post, as I'm a tempermental and fickle creature these day. ***
I'm just so damn tired.
I'm tired of...
... being so damn tired
... not being able to sleep at night
... not ever being left alone
... not wanting to be left alone
... not being able to do anything
... my body betraying me
... being constantly, overwhelmingly in pain
... the fact that every movement leaves me shaking
... being cranky
... my false cheerfulness
... the cheerfulness of others
... being told that "everything will be fine"
... being told what to do
... healing
... wanting this to be over
... wishing it had never happened
... crying
... spending so much time on the couch
... complaining
... feeling sorry for myself
... having others feel sorry for me
... taking it "one day at a time"
I'm just so damn tired.
I'm just so damn tired.
I'm tired of...
... being so damn tired
... not being able to sleep at night
... not ever being left alone
... not wanting to be left alone
... not being able to do anything
... my body betraying me
... being constantly, overwhelmingly in pain
... the fact that every movement leaves me shaking
... being cranky
... my false cheerfulness
... the cheerfulness of others
... being told that "everything will be fine"
... being told what to do
... healing
... wanting this to be over
... wishing it had never happened
... crying
... spending so much time on the couch
... complaining
... feeling sorry for myself
... having others feel sorry for me
... taking it "one day at a time"
I'm just so damn tired.
2.27.2006
Ta ta to the ta-ta's...
It has been 13 days since my breast reduction surgery and all is well. It took about 3 and a half hours. The doc removed 3 pounds of breast tissue (yes, 3 pounds), making me a nice, healty C cup when it is all said and done. Considering that losing 10 pounds was on my rotating list of New Year's Resolutions, I'm almost half way to my goal!
As it turns out, I'm allergic to morphine. And to one of the antibiotics I was on. The day after being released from the hospital, I had to go back to the Emergency Room because my body wasn't keeping anything down and was in severe distress due the antibiotic. So that was a major setback in terms of getting better.
Each day gets better though. I'm getting stronger - today I was able to go to Target with my mom and walk through some of the aisles, a major step! - and I'm able to do more things. For the first week, I pretty much was just laying on the couch and sleeping all the time. The pain medication made it hard for me to do anything else because I would get really dizzy and nauseous and sleepy.
I'm still very bruised, in fact, my whole chest and down into my ribs is covered in huge yellow and purple bruises. And I'm still quite swollen. The doc said the swelling will last between 6 weeks and 3 months. During that time, I'm confined to sports bras. I want my Victoria's Secret, now that I'm finally able to wear it!
The biggest and hardest lesson for me to learn is to be patient with my body. The body's ability to heal is amazing, but I keep feeling like it should be going faster. I want to be up and moving around, and it is discouraging and frustrating that I'm not able to be as active as I would have liked. I thought I'd be walking through my neighborhood every day by now.... unfortunately, I can barely make it to the end of the block without my legs turning to jelly. The toll that surgery took on my body surprised me, and the way that I'm affected in everything that I do. I have made the mistake of pushing myself too hard a few times, so I'm trying to learn how to take it slow.
The other huge lesson I've learned is that it is okay to depend on other people. I'm a very do-it-myself kind of girl. I like to think that I'm pretty tough. I've had to depend on others for everything, and it has been a humbling experience. I mean, for the first week after surgery, I couldn't even pour my own cereal, or get myself a glass of water, or open my shampoo bottle. I literally needed someone to help me with everything! For a "do-er" to have to sit back and let others take care of me has been difficult, but like I said, humbling. My mom has been amazing, no big surprise there. She is a hell of a lady.
Finally, I really do have the most amazing and wonderful friends and family. My house looks like a florist, I've received so many flowers!!! I've gotten tons of emails, calls and cards. My support network is awesome. They've reminded me how well-loved I am. That is the best lesson of all.
So posting will be sporadic and I'll try to see everyone while I'm online, but I'm focusing on healing and resting and taking care of myself. Thanks to everyone for your warm thoughts and well wishes!
As it turns out, I'm allergic to morphine. And to one of the antibiotics I was on. The day after being released from the hospital, I had to go back to the Emergency Room because my body wasn't keeping anything down and was in severe distress due the antibiotic. So that was a major setback in terms of getting better.
Each day gets better though. I'm getting stronger - today I was able to go to Target with my mom and walk through some of the aisles, a major step! - and I'm able to do more things. For the first week, I pretty much was just laying on the couch and sleeping all the time. The pain medication made it hard for me to do anything else because I would get really dizzy and nauseous and sleepy.
I'm still very bruised, in fact, my whole chest and down into my ribs is covered in huge yellow and purple bruises. And I'm still quite swollen. The doc said the swelling will last between 6 weeks and 3 months. During that time, I'm confined to sports bras. I want my Victoria's Secret, now that I'm finally able to wear it!
The biggest and hardest lesson for me to learn is to be patient with my body. The body's ability to heal is amazing, but I keep feeling like it should be going faster. I want to be up and moving around, and it is discouraging and frustrating that I'm not able to be as active as I would have liked. I thought I'd be walking through my neighborhood every day by now.... unfortunately, I can barely make it to the end of the block without my legs turning to jelly. The toll that surgery took on my body surprised me, and the way that I'm affected in everything that I do. I have made the mistake of pushing myself too hard a few times, so I'm trying to learn how to take it slow.
The other huge lesson I've learned is that it is okay to depend on other people. I'm a very do-it-myself kind of girl. I like to think that I'm pretty tough. I've had to depend on others for everything, and it has been a humbling experience. I mean, for the first week after surgery, I couldn't even pour my own cereal, or get myself a glass of water, or open my shampoo bottle. I literally needed someone to help me with everything! For a "do-er" to have to sit back and let others take care of me has been difficult, but like I said, humbling. My mom has been amazing, no big surprise there. She is a hell of a lady.
Finally, I really do have the most amazing and wonderful friends and family. My house looks like a florist, I've received so many flowers!!! I've gotten tons of emails, calls and cards. My support network is awesome. They've reminded me how well-loved I am. That is the best lesson of all.
So posting will be sporadic and I'll try to see everyone while I'm online, but I'm focusing on healing and resting and taking care of myself. Thanks to everyone for your warm thoughts and well wishes!
2.13.2006
I am humbled by my friends
I am humbled by my friends. I am humbled by the caliber of people around me. I am humbled by the thought that they've chosen me to be in their elite circles. They are simply the greatest people in the world.
I love you guys.... See you again soon....
I love you guys.... See you again soon....
2.09.2006
V-Day is coming.... but I'm not surrendering.
That's right, folks, it's that time of year again. The day to show that "someone special" just how much you care. Valentine's Day. Otherwise known as: The day that single people everywhere surrender to being Alone.
Ah yes, the most loving of holidays. The proliferation of hearts, flowers, candlelight, jewelry, chocolate and sappy Hallmark cards. Innocent symbols of love? Or weapons of the Apocolypse? Either way, on Valentine's Day, couples exchange these love symbols with fervor of epic proportions...thus reminding single people that they aren't just single anymore. They are Alone.
The historical roots of Valentine's Day and its patron Saint Valentine are wide and varied. Though its hard to say how accurate many of these tales are (I found at least three, just on the History Channel website), it is safe to say that Saint Valentine was a martyr. Like as in, murdered for whatever Christian cause he was supporting. Dead guy as the patron saint of the lover's holiday? Not very romantic.
Remember back in Kindergarten, when the valentine's exchanged were of the cherry lollipop and Care Bear variety? Ah, the innocence of childhood, so quickly forgotten. By the time I'd reached highschool, I'd succumbed to the over-commercialization of a holiday dedicated to showing the ones you love that you care.
But shouldn't the people we love already know we love them? Do we really need a holiday to remind them?
Hallmark, Russell Stover and the Sierra Lione diamond society would have you believe differently. They push cards, candy and jewelry on us at overwhelming speed (and prices). The effect of all this "love" making? Single people who feel Alone.
Sure, I get an envious pinch around my heart when I see a couple so obviously in love. But I'm content with being single. I like where I'm at with myself. Being single isn't so bad. Being Alone, on the other hand, is. Having been single - and at times, Alone - for the majority Valentine's Days celebrated in my lifetime, I've devised lots of ways to get through V-Day unscathed. So I present for your reading enjoyment: The single person's guide to surviving Valentine's Day Alone.
1) Buy yourself flowers. Shamelessly. March right into that store, hold your head high and pick out a nice mixed bouquet. Or go to that guy on the end of the exit ramp to Main Street in North Dayton (you know, by the BP station?). $7 will get you half a dozen roses - a steal! No, really, a steal - I'm pretty sure he gets them off the back of someone else's delivery truck, if you know what I mean. But you don't care! You're confident enough to buy yourself flowers and find joy in your fabulous single self.
2) Buy a big box of chocolates. To share. Yes, with others! Resist the temptation to eat the whole box yourself - if you do, you'll just feel fat afterwards. Fat and Alone on Valentine's Day? Not a good combination. If you share like your mother taught you, people will be stopping by your desk/cube/office/counter all day to praise your thoughtfulness (and good taste).
3) Call in sick. Claim a 24-hour virus, or something gross and obscure like scarlet fever. Call early in the morning, because that just-got-out-of-bed, haven't-spoken-to-another-soul-or-had-coffee-yet husky voice is convincing. Then go back to sleep. Stay in your pjs all day. Okay, yes, TECHNICALLY this one could be called "Wallowing in Self Pity". You could also refer to it as "Treating Yourself Well." Going to the spa helps, too.
4) Call up your single friends and have a party. Have dinner. Exchange cherry lollipops and Care Bear valentines and share your war...er...past Valentine's Day stories. Get rip-roaring drunk. Call in to work sick the next day and pretend it is because you had too much sex with your significant other to disguise the hangover that you'll be nursing all day. The garish red, pink and silver decorations will make your head hurt anyway.
5) Have life altering surgery. Sedation, heavy drugs, new body. Flowers and candy to toast a "speedy recovery". Well, this my plan, anyway. Whoopee!
Be well, my fellow singletons, and Happy Valentine's Day. Here's to being single...but not Alone.
Ah yes, the most loving of holidays. The proliferation of hearts, flowers, candlelight, jewelry, chocolate and sappy Hallmark cards. Innocent symbols of love? Or weapons of the Apocolypse? Either way, on Valentine's Day, couples exchange these love symbols with fervor of epic proportions...thus reminding single people that they aren't just single anymore. They are Alone.
The historical roots of Valentine's Day and its patron Saint Valentine are wide and varied. Though its hard to say how accurate many of these tales are (I found at least three, just on the History Channel website), it is safe to say that Saint Valentine was a martyr. Like as in, murdered for whatever Christian cause he was supporting. Dead guy as the patron saint of the lover's holiday? Not very romantic.
Remember back in Kindergarten, when the valentine's exchanged were of the cherry lollipop and Care Bear variety? Ah, the innocence of childhood, so quickly forgotten. By the time I'd reached highschool, I'd succumbed to the over-commercialization of a holiday dedicated to showing the ones you love that you care.
But shouldn't the people we love already know we love them? Do we really need a holiday to remind them?
Hallmark, Russell Stover and the Sierra Lione diamond society would have you believe differently. They push cards, candy and jewelry on us at overwhelming speed (and prices). The effect of all this "love" making? Single people who feel Alone.
Sure, I get an envious pinch around my heart when I see a couple so obviously in love. But I'm content with being single. I like where I'm at with myself. Being single isn't so bad. Being Alone, on the other hand, is. Having been single - and at times, Alone - for the majority Valentine's Days celebrated in my lifetime, I've devised lots of ways to get through V-Day unscathed. So I present for your reading enjoyment: The single person's guide to surviving Valentine's Day Alone.
1) Buy yourself flowers. Shamelessly. March right into that store, hold your head high and pick out a nice mixed bouquet. Or go to that guy on the end of the exit ramp to Main Street in North Dayton (you know, by the BP station?). $7 will get you half a dozen roses - a steal! No, really, a steal - I'm pretty sure he gets them off the back of someone else's delivery truck, if you know what I mean. But you don't care! You're confident enough to buy yourself flowers and find joy in your fabulous single self.
2) Buy a big box of chocolates. To share. Yes, with others! Resist the temptation to eat the whole box yourself - if you do, you'll just feel fat afterwards. Fat and Alone on Valentine's Day? Not a good combination. If you share like your mother taught you, people will be stopping by your desk/cube/office/counter all day to praise your thoughtfulness (and good taste).
3) Call in sick. Claim a 24-hour virus, or something gross and obscure like scarlet fever. Call early in the morning, because that just-got-out-of-bed, haven't-spoken-to-another-soul-or-had-coffee-yet husky voice is convincing. Then go back to sleep. Stay in your pjs all day. Okay, yes, TECHNICALLY this one could be called "Wallowing in Self Pity". You could also refer to it as "Treating Yourself Well." Going to the spa helps, too.
4) Call up your single friends and have a party. Have dinner. Exchange cherry lollipops and Care Bear valentines and share your war...er...past Valentine's Day stories. Get rip-roaring drunk. Call in to work sick the next day and pretend it is because you had too much sex with your significant other to disguise the hangover that you'll be nursing all day. The garish red, pink and silver decorations will make your head hurt anyway.
5) Have life altering surgery. Sedation, heavy drugs, new body. Flowers and candy to toast a "speedy recovery". Well, this my plan, anyway. Whoopee!
Be well, my fellow singletons, and Happy Valentine's Day. Here's to being single...but not Alone.
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