Usually when I ask a question it is because I wish to know the answer, the true answer. My evening last night clearly illustrates why more people, especially men, should give a true answer when asked a question. To further my point:
Let's say you are asked a direct question, such as “Have you read any of his books?” or “Do you find him funny?” You should answer with the truth, and if the answer is "no" you should say "no." You should not say “Uh-huh. I certainly do. I’d absolutely love to go with you.”
Here are some reasons why:
1. Your date will assume that you have answered truthfully and that you know the kind of author you are going to listen to for a few hours. Your dishonesty may get you more than you bargained for.
2. When, over dinner, the truth is revealed that you have no idea whom the author you are about to go see is, your date will inevitably have to make a choice. To clue you in about who the author is and what the show will be like or to let you suffer the consequences of your transgression. (Hint: Most women dislike being lied to and will let you suffer the consequences of your ignorance.)
3. Your date may assume you were smart enough to Google the author you lied about having read and will continue on as if you did so. When it becomes clear that you did not Google the author your date will not only think you are untruthful but also ignorant of technology.
4. You may very well end up with an unflattering nickname.
5. Your lack of truthfulness and leering glances over dinner will ensure a nickname with a double meaning.
6. If you lie about knowing something you should be prepared for anything. Say a packed sold-out theater full of lots of gay men, groups of women, and a small smattering of couples. They all know what to expect. While you glance around, shift uncomfortably in your chair, and attempt to pump your date for clues. (Which she will not give.)
7. Your date will laugh uproariously at the incredibly vulgar, dirty joke the author tells within the first five minutes. While you will squirm in horror. (FYI, she laughed even harder at your discomfort than at the joke itself.) There will be a lot of humor involving homosexuality and your date, along with everyone else in the theater, will laugh and laugh. You will again be quite uncomfortable.
8. The less you laugh the more your date will wish she had sold your ticket to a random gay man.
9. When you finally loosen up and decide to find the humor in the author’s readings you will both laugh at the same things. You will think the camaraderie of shared laughter is great and may lead to something more. She will still think about how much fun it would have been to come with someone else.
10. At the end of the evening, you will think your lying was successful in getting you closer to someone you know through a similar circle. You will be incorrect and it will be awkward. And, at the end of the evening when she says, “sure maybe I’ll see you at that meeting on Monday” you will recognize that look – turns out you're not the only one who can tell a lie.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Annoying New Yorkers
Last night, for the first time, I encountered an Annoying New Yorker. The ANY's are the ones that make citizens in all parts of the country cringe when anyone answers the question, "so, where are you from?" with "New York." The ANY's have always been an enigma to me, I'd heard mad cap tales of them but I'd never met one myself. I also found it very judgmental and rude of others to assume just because I'm from NY that my company is less than desirable. That is until last night, when I met an ANY in the flesh and had to endure the torture of being around her.
It was supposed to be a simple dinner at an overpriced chain Chinese restaurant. (Any guesses on which one?) But, alas it turned out to be two of the more difficult hours of my life. There were four of us at the table. I had been invited by a nice man, whom I do not know well, and there were two other people there that I did not know at all. You'd think that would make for interesting conversation by the sheer fact of getting to know one another. Conversation, however, was almost impossible. The ANY, a woman I had never met, could not stop talking and couldn't tolerate the fact that anyone would want to talk about anything not related to New York. I had answered the obligatory "where are you from" question with the truth and she immediately thought we were two peas in a pod, much to my chagrin. She related every conversation back to NY, dismissed any talk of pleasant local restaurants or entertainment, and often winked at me whenever she said something derogatory regarding our table mates' opinions. More than once I wanted to skulk away from the table never to return. I changed the subject numerous times and tried valiantly to engage my other dinner companions in conversation. She would snort with derision at their answers, offer her suggestion on how they could really get a life if they'd go to NY, and then change the subject back to something that suited her.
Finally, after our plates had been cleared and dinner was done one of the other diners turned to her and asked, "why don't you live in NY anymore? Why don't you go back?" She answered that she would in heartbeat but the cost of living was so high. Proceeding to go on in detail about how it was so much better than any other place on earth except for that. I told her to take it from me that she was missing out on a lot of great experiences in life and she needed to adjust her expectations. To which she replied that she had no desire to do any such thing.
She will certainly miss out on a lot because I for one won't ask her to join me anywhere and I doubt too many other people will either. I can now see why so many people are horrified after an experience with an ANY. But, I'd caution people everywhere not to judge all New Yorkers by those experiences anymore than you'd want us to judge you through an ANY's eyes. Most people love the place where they grew up - it's home to them - and if they are open to hearing all of the wonderful things about your hometown, you should be open to learning about theirs, even if it is harsh, critical, old New York.
It was supposed to be a simple dinner at an overpriced chain Chinese restaurant. (Any guesses on which one?) But, alas it turned out to be two of the more difficult hours of my life. There were four of us at the table. I had been invited by a nice man, whom I do not know well, and there were two other people there that I did not know at all. You'd think that would make for interesting conversation by the sheer fact of getting to know one another. Conversation, however, was almost impossible. The ANY, a woman I had never met, could not stop talking and couldn't tolerate the fact that anyone would want to talk about anything not related to New York. I had answered the obligatory "where are you from" question with the truth and she immediately thought we were two peas in a pod, much to my chagrin. She related every conversation back to NY, dismissed any talk of pleasant local restaurants or entertainment, and often winked at me whenever she said something derogatory regarding our table mates' opinions. More than once I wanted to skulk away from the table never to return. I changed the subject numerous times and tried valiantly to engage my other dinner companions in conversation. She would snort with derision at their answers, offer her suggestion on how they could really get a life if they'd go to NY, and then change the subject back to something that suited her.
Finally, after our plates had been cleared and dinner was done one of the other diners turned to her and asked, "why don't you live in NY anymore? Why don't you go back?" She answered that she would in heartbeat but the cost of living was so high. Proceeding to go on in detail about how it was so much better than any other place on earth except for that. I told her to take it from me that she was missing out on a lot of great experiences in life and she needed to adjust her expectations. To which she replied that she had no desire to do any such thing.
She will certainly miss out on a lot because I for one won't ask her to join me anywhere and I doubt too many other people will either. I can now see why so many people are horrified after an experience with an ANY. But, I'd caution people everywhere not to judge all New Yorkers by those experiences anymore than you'd want us to judge you through an ANY's eyes. Most people love the place where they grew up - it's home to them - and if they are open to hearing all of the wonderful things about your hometown, you should be open to learning about theirs, even if it is harsh, critical, old New York.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Lack of Blogs
I have written several things over the past few months that aren't really fit for sharing. Or they aren't at the moment anyway. So, that is where I've been - dealing with a tumultuous summer and writing things I don't wish to share. But, I decided to put this grief filled summer behind me and begin again. So, here's to a fantastic fall!
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Mourning
There is a black and white picture that sits in a photo collage created by my great-grandmother. It is a picture of my grandparents, circa early 1950's. They are quite young, early 20's, if that, and they are holding each other turned slightly to the camera and they are both smiling their genuine smiles. They look very happy, like they are about to go on an adventure and all they need is each other. I have been fascinated by that photograph since I was a young girl, maybe five or six, and stayed at with my great-grandmother, Nana, for the night. I could hardly take my eyes off it and couldn't believe that those two people in the picture were my Grammie and Grandpa. I must have asked a million questions about that photograph until Nana, normally a very patient woman, said she wouldn't answer anymore questions about it. Not only is it a beautiful moment captured in time but it has always been the symbol of life for me. I grasped, in that weekend, that everyone starts out a certain way and life ages, and changes, a person. It made me dread growing older but it also made me admire my grandparents in a whole other way.
My Grandpa passed away today. It wasn't entirely unexpected but it has still left me grieving. He was amazing but also so common. He was stern, unyielding, and sometimes unkind but he was also generous, supportive, and the most positive male influence for much of my life. He believed in me when I didn't believe in myself and he always took the time, often on the sly, to let me know he thought I could do whatever it was I was doubting myself about. Some of my fondest memories of childhood center around him. Him coming home from work on an average summer day while I was playing in his front yard. Or overnights at his house and kissing him goodnight as he snored on the couch. Campouts in his backyard, jumping off the dock in New Hampshire into his waiting arms, playing wiffle ball in Massena, and learning about baseball by watching Mets games with him. So many of the things I learned before I left home I learned from him. And oh so many more he taught me once I was on my own and floundering as I tried to be a grown-up. He offered great advice and I wish I'd heeded more of it.
He was an average guy by so many standards but to me he was so much larger than his 6' frame. He didn't express love in words very easily but he knew how to give a hug that let you know you were loved. He led an admirable life if only for the fact that he's so greatly missed. He was once full of dreams, hopes, and aspirations that photograph is proof of that. But he made choices in life and altered courses for his family and did things that many didn't like and many others loved. He lived a life and made the best of it.
He helped to make me the person that I am and I will miss him, and his guidance, beyond measure.
My Grandpa passed away today. It wasn't entirely unexpected but it has still left me grieving. He was amazing but also so common. He was stern, unyielding, and sometimes unkind but he was also generous, supportive, and the most positive male influence for much of my life. He believed in me when I didn't believe in myself and he always took the time, often on the sly, to let me know he thought I could do whatever it was I was doubting myself about. Some of my fondest memories of childhood center around him. Him coming home from work on an average summer day while I was playing in his front yard. Or overnights at his house and kissing him goodnight as he snored on the couch. Campouts in his backyard, jumping off the dock in New Hampshire into his waiting arms, playing wiffle ball in Massena, and learning about baseball by watching Mets games with him. So many of the things I learned before I left home I learned from him. And oh so many more he taught me once I was on my own and floundering as I tried to be a grown-up. He offered great advice and I wish I'd heeded more of it.
He was an average guy by so many standards but to me he was so much larger than his 6' frame. He didn't express love in words very easily but he knew how to give a hug that let you know you were loved. He led an admirable life if only for the fact that he's so greatly missed. He was once full of dreams, hopes, and aspirations that photograph is proof of that. But he made choices in life and altered courses for his family and did things that many didn't like and many others loved. He lived a life and made the best of it.
He helped to make me the person that I am and I will miss him, and his guidance, beyond measure.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
"Dance Your Cares Away...
Worries for another day. Let the music play. Down in Fraggle Rock!"
So, I just heard they are making a movie out of one of my favorite television shows from my childhood - Fraggle Rock! I loved Jim Henson's creations as a kid, (Muppets anyone?) and Fraggle Rock was exceptional in my opinion. I cannot wait for this movie to come out. It is to feature puppets and people just like the original series. It supposedly will not have any computer animation either. Just old fashioned puppets.
I found this on YouTube, it's the opening scene from the television series. Now you can catch the Fraggle Rock Fever, too!
So, I just heard they are making a movie out of one of my favorite television shows from my childhood - Fraggle Rock! I loved Jim Henson's creations as a kid, (Muppets anyone?) and Fraggle Rock was exceptional in my opinion. I cannot wait for this movie to come out. It is to feature puppets and people just like the original series. It supposedly will not have any computer animation either. Just old fashioned puppets.
I found this on YouTube, it's the opening scene from the television series. Now you can catch the Fraggle Rock Fever, too!
Saturday, April 26, 2008
The New Bob
I read somewhere that there are only so many types of people in the world and you spend your life encountering those same types in different shells. It is supposedly why so many people remind you of someone you used to know. I had a friend for several years - more than 10 - named Bob. We met while we were both in college and working at Pizza Hut, became friends, tried dating, and then went back to being friends. We remained friends for many years and stayed close until a couple years ago when life took us in different directions. I've missed Bob in a lot of ways since our friendship ended but I mostly think that's because I didn't have a replacement "Bob" to fall back on. That is until now!
The "New Bob" isn't really named "Bob" but he might as well be - they are two peas in a pod. The New Bob is so much like The Old Bob that it is uncanny. They have similar senses of humor, are quick-witted, can have intelligent conversations with many tangents, know of obscure television shows to turn me onto, have no fashion sense, and rarely leave the house if they can help it. But my favorite part of The New Bob is the same thing that kept me friends with The Old Bob for so long - he finds me hilarious. You see, I sometimes have trouble finding people to be around that are similar to me in that I look for the joke to crack, the witty turn of phrase that the occasion begs for, and often say it without thinking. Not everyone enjoys that aspect of my personality and few people actually do the same and vie to get their wise-ass comment out first. I love the competition of who is funnier. Because even if I don't win I still end up laughing. The New Bob is a fierce competitor too, which keeps me on my toes.
Don't get me wrong I have several witty friends- JJ and KC immediately come to mind. However, they are both female and whilst I thoroughly enjoy spending time with them they do not have a male's mind. Men, like Old Bob and New Bob, don't usually hold back when engaged in witty repartee. Sometimes that means something that clearly needs to be said to you is said - usually quite harshly but with enough wit that you still laugh but pause to examine the point. Men with this personality are also quick to point out when other men are lame. Which is a helpful thing to have in a friend.
I like The New Bob - he's a good addition to my social circle and makes the day at work go by very quickly and humorously. Makes me glad I took this new gig and got to meet a personality I'd been missing.
The "New Bob" isn't really named "Bob" but he might as well be - they are two peas in a pod. The New Bob is so much like The Old Bob that it is uncanny. They have similar senses of humor, are quick-witted, can have intelligent conversations with many tangents, know of obscure television shows to turn me onto, have no fashion sense, and rarely leave the house if they can help it. But my favorite part of The New Bob is the same thing that kept me friends with The Old Bob for so long - he finds me hilarious. You see, I sometimes have trouble finding people to be around that are similar to me in that I look for the joke to crack, the witty turn of phrase that the occasion begs for, and often say it without thinking. Not everyone enjoys that aspect of my personality and few people actually do the same and vie to get their wise-ass comment out first. I love the competition of who is funnier. Because even if I don't win I still end up laughing. The New Bob is a fierce competitor too, which keeps me on my toes.
Don't get me wrong I have several witty friends- JJ and KC immediately come to mind. However, they are both female and whilst I thoroughly enjoy spending time with them they do not have a male's mind. Men, like Old Bob and New Bob, don't usually hold back when engaged in witty repartee. Sometimes that means something that clearly needs to be said to you is said - usually quite harshly but with enough wit that you still laugh but pause to examine the point. Men with this personality are also quick to point out when other men are lame. Which is a helpful thing to have in a friend.
I like The New Bob - he's a good addition to my social circle and makes the day at work go by very quickly and humorously. Makes me glad I took this new gig and got to meet a personality I'd been missing.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Outside Adventures
So, I was able to leave the house finally! All of my pox scabbed over so I am no longer contagious. Nothing really exciting happened I am just joyous that I got to go OUT! Still feel like I have the flu but I should be over that in a few days - a week tops. Feeling better is the greatest!
Saturday, April 19, 2008
A Pox Upon Me
From now on I think instead of using vulgar language to emphasize my distaste for someone I'm going to say "a pox upon thee." Now I won't mean it in the tradition of the sixteenth century curse - which wished syphilis upon someone. I will mean it in more modern day terms. As in, I hope you get the chicken pox or some similar virus.
You see, I was diagnosed yesterday with such a condition. They can't say for sure if it is chicken pox or coxsackie virus - both are common childhood illnesses. The test to determine which would take weeks, if not months, because it would have to be sent to the state lab. Either way I should be better before we'd be able to get the test results and the treatment is mostly the same. If I end up in the hospital they'll rush the test and determine how best to proceed but until that time it's unnecessary. It's always a bright spot in the visit when the doctor suggests that your illness could involve a trip to the hospital. Why is it they never involve trips to Hawaii? I'd much rather possibly to go to Hawaii if my condition worsens than some hospital.
But, alas, I won't be going anywhere anytime soon. I'm highly contagious so I can't go out of the house. No grocery store, no Target, no trips to Starbucks for coffee. My Saturday has been a dismal day of bad television, naps, and medication. All the while trying hard not to scratch. I have a fever, an awful headache, a sore throat, and so many itchy, disgusting, did I say itchy, spots I lost count. What I don't have is enough anti-bodies to fight this disgusting virus but while I stay home they are supposed to accumulate. Although I look like someone quite unattractive I still have an overwhelming desire to leave the house. All because I am not allowed.
I think, given my current state, "a pox upon thee" is a better way of telling someone how distasteful I find them than any other phrase. Now if I could just find the person that cursed me!
You see, I was diagnosed yesterday with such a condition. They can't say for sure if it is chicken pox or coxsackie virus - both are common childhood illnesses. The test to determine which would take weeks, if not months, because it would have to be sent to the state lab. Either way I should be better before we'd be able to get the test results and the treatment is mostly the same. If I end up in the hospital they'll rush the test and determine how best to proceed but until that time it's unnecessary. It's always a bright spot in the visit when the doctor suggests that your illness could involve a trip to the hospital. Why is it they never involve trips to Hawaii? I'd much rather possibly to go to Hawaii if my condition worsens than some hospital.
But, alas, I won't be going anywhere anytime soon. I'm highly contagious so I can't go out of the house. No grocery store, no Target, no trips to Starbucks for coffee. My Saturday has been a dismal day of bad television, naps, and medication. All the while trying hard not to scratch. I have a fever, an awful headache, a sore throat, and so many itchy, disgusting, did I say itchy, spots I lost count. What I don't have is enough anti-bodies to fight this disgusting virus but while I stay home they are supposed to accumulate. Although I look like someone quite unattractive I still have an overwhelming desire to leave the house. All because I am not allowed.
I think, given my current state, "a pox upon thee" is a better way of telling someone how distasteful I find them than any other phrase. Now if I could just find the person that cursed me!
Friday, April 4, 2008
So, I like many people in the world, have a profile on Facebook. Facebook is amusing on it's own - you can play games, challenge your friends to trivia contests, throw odd things at people, and find people you have lost touch with. I also find Facebook amusing for it's soap opera qualities. There are often things posted on some of my friends' walls that tell what kind of drama they have going on at the moment. Very amusing. But, today was more than amusement available to me it was an interesting look at how we think.
I should start by saying one of my friends on Facebook is my 15 year old cousin. Today she had posted under the section that tells people what you are doing "wants to know why I likee you so wen you're just a waste of my timee." Truer words were never spoken, especially at 15 years old. At that age you discover that you like someone that you know is a complete waste of your time but you can't seem to let go of the like. What's more you really WANT to know why you like someone that's a waste of your time.
I didn't have the heart to tell her that those feelings don't go away as one gets older. There are still inappropriate people that cross your path as you age and inevitably they will be the ones you find most attractive. It is a cruel joke that the universe plays because you never really discover why those are the people you find most attractive. Some things are better left discovered for yourself and not told to you by someone older and wiser. Besides, at 15 she's unlikely to believe me. I wouldn't have believed it at her age.
I should start by saying one of my friends on Facebook is my 15 year old cousin. Today she had posted under the section that tells people what you are doing "wants to know why I likee you so wen you're just a waste of my timee." Truer words were never spoken, especially at 15 years old. At that age you discover that you like someone that you know is a complete waste of your time but you can't seem to let go of the like. What's more you really WANT to know why you like someone that's a waste of your time.
I didn't have the heart to tell her that those feelings don't go away as one gets older. There are still inappropriate people that cross your path as you age and inevitably they will be the ones you find most attractive. It is a cruel joke that the universe plays because you never really discover why those are the people you find most attractive. Some things are better left discovered for yourself and not told to you by someone older and wiser. Besides, at 15 she's unlikely to believe me. I wouldn't have believed it at her age.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Amusing Obscure Movies
So, I had some free time this afternoon and I ended up watching a movie on Turner Classic Movies. It was called "The Courtship of Eddie's Father" and it starred Shirley Jones, a very young Ron Howard as Eddie, and some guy I don't know. It was very amusing and an enjoyable movie overall. One of the funniest parts to me was when a woman in the movie - Shirley Jones' rival for Eddie's father's affections - stated she wanted to stand beside a man and not behind him. His response was "you should be happy with the vote because I doubt that will ever catch on as a national revolution." I laughed out loud!
This movie was released in 1963 and I seem to recall in 1963 there were predictions about the future. These predictions included things like hover crafts and a "Jetsons" like existence. But the screenwriter of this movie couldn't imagine a time when women would be equal to men. Where women could actually have a partner in life and stand beside that man and not just be the backup singer to his starring role. That is hilarious to me. Hilarious that he was so short sighted but also because the heroine of the movie, the one you root for all along, is a divorcee with a job in a time when divorcees were not looked upon favorably. Seems the screenwriter, one Mr. John Gay, was conflicted about his views of women.
This movie was released in 1963 and I seem to recall in 1963 there were predictions about the future. These predictions included things like hover crafts and a "Jetsons" like existence. But the screenwriter of this movie couldn't imagine a time when women would be equal to men. Where women could actually have a partner in life and stand beside that man and not just be the backup singer to his starring role. That is hilarious to me. Hilarious that he was so short sighted but also because the heroine of the movie, the one you root for all along, is a divorcee with a job in a time when divorcees were not looked upon favorably. Seems the screenwriter, one Mr. John Gay, was conflicted about his views of women.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Freedom
As a citizen of the United States I lead a largely unfettered life. I am able to travel freely about the country, pursue any life path I desire, and wear almost anything I choose - it just has to cover my naughty bits when out in public. I guess because I don't really experience any kind of oppression as a U.S. citizen I find a very simple thing oppressive. I hate it when I have to work on my birthday. I largely choose not to work on my birthday. I did so this year - I had planned on taking a vacation day anyway so I just made yesterday my last day of employment.
It isn't that I dislike working and I'm really not that into hoopla on my birthday. I just view my birthday as the day of my deciding and I think it should continue to be the day of my decisions. I decided to make my appearance into the world on that day and it didn't matter that I was supposed to stay put for another month and wasn't quite finished growing. That, in some ways, has helped to shape my personality. I make my own decisions, and although I take other opinions under advisement, ultimately I do what I want. From big to little things if I have a preference, I take it. That's why working on my birthday bothers me - there are times when working is not what I want to be doing and doing it on that particular day, if I don't really want to, goes against my being.
I like to choose what I'm going to do on my birthday and usually like to spend most of it by myself. Sort of a celebration of the only person I'll ever honestly go through life with - me. Today was no exception and I had a fantastic day. I slept in, with George happily slumbering beside me after KC left for work. Then when I did get up George and I played for a while. He's such a happy dog and I like having him around. Then I was ready to hit the road and left for Carolina Beach. I stopped at Caribou to get my free b-day coffee and it was delicious. Then it was onto the beach where I relaxed by the ocean until I went up to my room and got in the jacuzzi. That's right I got a good deal and my room has a jacuzzi. I chatted with people who called to wish me a "Happy Birthday" and generally had an awesome afternoon.
For dinner I met a couchsurfer from Wilmington. He chose a yummy Tex-Mex place that was so good I'm thinking of going back for lunch tomorrow. He's an interesting guy and he's had lots of adventures. Plus, I usually enjoy meeting new people. Not to mention, I rarely hear a story that starts with "so, we decided to go to the whorehouse." Can't beat dinner conversation like that! When I left to head back to the hotel I decided to stop at DQ and got some birthday ice cream. Mmm, ice cream!
Now, I'm just finishing relaxing on the balcony and watching the waves. The door is still open and I hear can hear the crashing surf as I type this. In a few moments I will put the computer away, change into pajamas, and fall asleep listening to the ocean. A truly perfect day. To me that's what freedom is - the ability to have a day like this if you so decide.
It isn't that I dislike working and I'm really not that into hoopla on my birthday. I just view my birthday as the day of my deciding and I think it should continue to be the day of my decisions. I decided to make my appearance into the world on that day and it didn't matter that I was supposed to stay put for another month and wasn't quite finished growing. That, in some ways, has helped to shape my personality. I make my own decisions, and although I take other opinions under advisement, ultimately I do what I want. From big to little things if I have a preference, I take it. That's why working on my birthday bothers me - there are times when working is not what I want to be doing and doing it on that particular day, if I don't really want to, goes against my being.
I like to choose what I'm going to do on my birthday and usually like to spend most of it by myself. Sort of a celebration of the only person I'll ever honestly go through life with - me. Today was no exception and I had a fantastic day. I slept in, with George happily slumbering beside me after KC left for work. Then when I did get up George and I played for a while. He's such a happy dog and I like having him around. Then I was ready to hit the road and left for Carolina Beach. I stopped at Caribou to get my free b-day coffee and it was delicious. Then it was onto the beach where I relaxed by the ocean until I went up to my room and got in the jacuzzi. That's right I got a good deal and my room has a jacuzzi. I chatted with people who called to wish me a "Happy Birthday" and generally had an awesome afternoon.
For dinner I met a couchsurfer from Wilmington. He chose a yummy Tex-Mex place that was so good I'm thinking of going back for lunch tomorrow. He's an interesting guy and he's had lots of adventures. Plus, I usually enjoy meeting new people. Not to mention, I rarely hear a story that starts with "so, we decided to go to the whorehouse." Can't beat dinner conversation like that! When I left to head back to the hotel I decided to stop at DQ and got some birthday ice cream. Mmm, ice cream!
Now, I'm just finishing relaxing on the balcony and watching the waves. The door is still open and I hear can hear the crashing surf as I type this. In a few moments I will put the computer away, change into pajamas, and fall asleep listening to the ocean. A truly perfect day. To me that's what freedom is - the ability to have a day like this if you so decide.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Notice
I quit my job today. I officially turned in my notice. They accepted my resignation with some hesitation but it appears they will let me work out my almost two weeks. I have a couple vacation days due to me and I was planning on taking off for my birthday anyway so I made my last day March 26, 2008. They're seemingly on board with my working until then.
Not to worry I have a new job lined up and ready to go. I won't start it until mid-April though. I need sometime to get my house back in order. I don't mean that figuratively either. I have a few things I'd like to do around the homestead and I've been unable to since I've been living like a nomad.
I'll update more as it gets closer. There should be lots more updates from here on. As it looks like I will have more free time for reading, writing, blogging, and general merriment. I am tired of working all the time and quitting this job is step one on the road to a less stress life.
Not to worry I have a new job lined up and ready to go. I won't start it until mid-April though. I need sometime to get my house back in order. I don't mean that figuratively either. I have a few things I'd like to do around the homestead and I've been unable to since I've been living like a nomad.
I'll update more as it gets closer. There should be lots more updates from here on. As it looks like I will have more free time for reading, writing, blogging, and general merriment. I am tired of working all the time and quitting this job is step one on the road to a less stress life.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
You Think Your Job Stinks
I was listening to National Public Radio today, as I often do, and the host was talking to some puppet builders - not political masterminds actual puppet makers. He commented that controlling a marionette was kind of like being God and how playing with puppets made him realize how much he didn't want to be God. Because "you never get to sleep at night and no one ever does what you say." Oh, how wise you are Frank Stasio. It got me thinking of the reasons why I don't want to be God and I thought I'd share. Feel free to add your own in the comments.
Top Ten Reasons Why I Don't Want To Be God
1. People constantly misquote you. And, even when you don't say anything they debate what your silence means.
2. No time to go to the bathroom in peace.
3. If you forget one small detail about someone's life because you have something big going on at work - like say an earthquake in India for instance - you run the risk of them thinking you don't really love them.
4. You always get blamed for the things that go wrong even if you had nothing to do with them. ie: Weather changes caused by Global Warming - AKA "Acts of God."
5. No one ever wants to come see you - no matter how much they say they do it's all just talk - when it's time for the actual visit they all say they don't want to go just yet.
6. Not only do your underlings constantly fight but they each claim you are on their side. When really you are staying out of it and hoping they come to their senses and stop acting like imbeciles.
7. No one ever tells you a joke.
8. You can never go on vacation. Your work follows you everywhere - people stalk you religiously.
9. Ebay is full of potato chips and other weird products that people claim to resemble you.
10. Most people assume they can do whatever they want without real consequence because they think you'll cover for them and somehow keep them out of trouble.
Top Ten Reasons Why I Don't Want To Be God
1. People constantly misquote you. And, even when you don't say anything they debate what your silence means.
2. No time to go to the bathroom in peace.
3. If you forget one small detail about someone's life because you have something big going on at work - like say an earthquake in India for instance - you run the risk of them thinking you don't really love them.
4. You always get blamed for the things that go wrong even if you had nothing to do with them. ie: Weather changes caused by Global Warming - AKA "Acts of God."
5. No one ever wants to come see you - no matter how much they say they do it's all just talk - when it's time for the actual visit they all say they don't want to go just yet.
6. Not only do your underlings constantly fight but they each claim you are on their side. When really you are staying out of it and hoping they come to their senses and stop acting like imbeciles.
7. No one ever tells you a joke.
8. You can never go on vacation. Your work follows you everywhere - people stalk you religiously.
9. Ebay is full of potato chips and other weird products that people claim to resemble you.
10. Most people assume they can do whatever they want without real consequence because they think you'll cover for them and somehow keep them out of trouble.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Lost Part II
So, I just got done watching the latest episode of "Lost" and I want to talk about it with other "Losties." Unfortunately, most of my friends either gave up on "Lost" long ago or never watched in the first place. I do have a couple of friends that still watch but they have requested I not share my theories with them - they don't want me to spoil anything for them. That means I can't talk about it with anyone! It's very frustrating, especially since I wrote my theory about "Lost" down at the end of last season and tonight's episode revealed several more hints that my theory is correct. So, is there a closet "Lost" fan among my friends? Or are you finally ready to discuss theories? Even a random Google search reader that wants to discuss? Leave a comment if you, like me, love "Lost."
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Lost
Tonight was the season premiere of "Lost" - my favorite television show. It was great and now I must insist that the writer's strike end and everyone go back to work. There are only 8 new episodes of "Lost" currently written and filmed. There are supposed to be 16 episodes this season and they are supposed to air uninterrupted and without repeats. By my estimation the writers can continue to work out a deal for another week or two. They will still have plenty of time to write and film the other 8 episodes they lack and stay on schedule if they hurry up. But, they need to get cracking on making this deal and get back to the business of entertaining me.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Furry Alarm Clock
I stay at KC's house when I'm in Raleigh and for the past couple weeks we've rarely seen each other. She's been traveling when I've been in Raleigh and I've been in Charlotte when she's been at home. I truly love staying at her house. I know I need to not impose on her - I feel guilty about it often - but I really do love being there. It's nice to come home to someone else every now and then. It's like when I had a room mate in college. It's just nice to have someone else around from time to time. And then, of course there's KC's dog, George. (He's okay with using his real name, I asked him.)
I've had to travel so much in the past few years that my parents took my dog, Roebling, to their house. Then when my travel schedule started to settle down they didn't want to give him back. I could see all the reasons why they wanted to keep him and they were right so I let him stay there. But I miss him so much, and so often, it's hard to explain. George seems to understand my need for pet companionship. He is always there to greet me when I come in and he is very big on giving me lots of attention. I like playing with him after a long, stressful, and overwhelming day. Time with George is a nice treat for me.
As I was saying, KC has been traveling when I've been in Raleigh. George, on the other hand, has been at home. There was no reason for him to go to the kennel if I was going to be there. We've had a pretty grand time. There's been a lot of fetch, bone chewing, and petting. He also decided he'd rather sleep with me in the guest room than stay downstairs in the master by himself. The only real problem is I think the street light that shines into that room confuses him. More than once in the past two weeks I've been awakened at four thirty am by a furry alarm clock frantically licking my face and begging me to get up and let him out. It seems he thinks that with the lighting in the room that it is about six thirty. Next time KC goes out of town George and I will have to get his timing straight, especially on Saturday.
I've had to travel so much in the past few years that my parents took my dog, Roebling, to their house. Then when my travel schedule started to settle down they didn't want to give him back. I could see all the reasons why they wanted to keep him and they were right so I let him stay there. But I miss him so much, and so often, it's hard to explain. George seems to understand my need for pet companionship. He is always there to greet me when I come in and he is very big on giving me lots of attention. I like playing with him after a long, stressful, and overwhelming day. Time with George is a nice treat for me.
As I was saying, KC has been traveling when I've been in Raleigh. George, on the other hand, has been at home. There was no reason for him to go to the kennel if I was going to be there. We've had a pretty grand time. There's been a lot of fetch, bone chewing, and petting. He also decided he'd rather sleep with me in the guest room than stay downstairs in the master by himself. The only real problem is I think the street light that shines into that room confuses him. More than once in the past two weeks I've been awakened at four thirty am by a furry alarm clock frantically licking my face and begging me to get up and let him out. It seems he thinks that with the lighting in the room that it is about six thirty. Next time KC goes out of town George and I will have to get his timing straight, especially on Saturday.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Sense of Smell
I stepped across a doorway today and transported myself fourteen years into the past. I had to drop off some plans to be copied. It was a smaller set, 12 sheets of 18"x24" paper. I only needed two copies of the set. I had meant to only hand them to the man I'd only met once before and come back for them later. I had meant to stay but a minute on the drop off and a mere two or three on the pickup. Or better yet to have someone else pick them up for me. But it was a smaller set and this nice man said he'd have both copies ready in ten minutes or so if I'd just wait. I couldn't even make it back to the office in ten minutes so I agreed to patiently browse.
I was in Southern Photo in Durham, NC. It's been in the same location for fifty years, I know because I asked today. But I didn't need to ask to have an estimate of how long the store had been the same. It has a feel of days gone by and yet a sense of timelessness. At Southern Photo they make plan copies in a back room but up front they sell a variety of items. They have surveying supplies such as stakes, paint, ribbon, wheels, and equipment. As well as engineering items like scales and other measuring devices. There are also multiple shelves of paint, board, paper, colored pencils, charcoal, and other assorted art and architecture supplies. All of these items, along with the wood shelves, walls and flooring that have seen fifty years of weathering, all emit their own scent. Those scents then flow together in the air to form an intoxicating perfume all it's own.
As I browsed, patiently waiting as the first ninety seconds ticked by in my ten minute wait, I was overwhelmed with feeling. First I felt powerful feelings of love, of both being in love, and all the joy that brings, and feeling loved. I also felt a rush of hope and inspiration as if anything in the world was possible and all the best was yet to come. Finally, I was crushed with an unbearable weight of hopelessness and despair. I had tears well up in my eyes as stood there glancing at colored pencils and I was perplexed, slightly embarrassed - even though I was completely alone and unobserved - and curious as to where this all came from. Until it dawned on me that it was the smell, it was triggering these emotions.
This concoction, this indescribable scent of it's own, is from another time in my life. I fell in love for the first time in college, with an architecture major, and we spent many hours in places such as this one. He'd be picking out supplies he needed to complete a project and I'd be browsing behind him wishing I had classes that used such interesting and creative things. I'd be soaking in the smells and colors and waiting patiently. He'd still be looking at something but make a point to touch my hair or grab my hand. It was also a smell I couldn't escape because a corner of our home where his old wooden desk and supplies were kept also smelled the same way. We lived in an older building and the same co-mingling of old and new scents would create the smell. I would often drift over to his desk and just stand there and breathe in the scent when he was not home. It was in so many ways the smell of unconditional love and possibilities for the future. It was a time in my life when I struggled day to day for the bare necessities, like food and rent, but was still unbelievably happy in my everyday life. I felt very loved and believed that anything was possible. I was certain the best days of my life lay ahead of, and not behind, me. But things went awry, as life often does, and this smell became not only the trigger of those positive emotions but also of the negative.
The brain is a funny thing, it seems to have a music player in it that can be triggered by smells. As if the smell would flip a CD in my mind and the first track would be "falling in love for the first time." Followed by "unconditional acceptance", "love and feel loved", "anything is possible", and "the best is yet to come". Then the CD flips to another genre and the very next song is "life doesn't work out how you planned." Followed by, "why bother to believe", "people leave you", and "life is sad." This was the soundtrack my brain was playing all because of my nose. How interesting that my brain took information received from my nose and turned it into a powerful emotional playlist. I was able to observe my emotional response and delve deeper into what I might learn from it. I've been practicing Buddhist meditation lately and it's made this duality easier. I considered how much I used to love this smell and how I seemed to avoid it. I also realized that I wanted to dash in and dash out of Southern Photo because the first time I was in there last week I was uncomfortable. I now knew why. I also knew I have avoided places such as this over the years even though I enjoy wandering around and looking at the different things.
Why? Why had I done this? Because I believed more strongly in the negative emotions that this smell made me feel than I did in the positive emotions it made me feel. I thought about this for a while and realized that this assumption on my part, the one I've apparently held in my subconscious for the past fourteen years, is not true. What has happened, or has not happened to me, in the past fourteen years has been a direct result of my holding on to that negative belief system. It's a self fulfilling prophesy. I've rarely glimpsed the happiness I had back then because I believed it was lost to me. I've also been unable to sustain those rare glimpses because I thought them to be fleeting. I was certain they would end and thus they did. As I waited for my copies I drank in the smell with a purpose of trying to recapture the positive and leaving out the negative. Could I truly believe with such nakedly naive optimism again? I'm optimistic but am I too hardened by life to truly believe anything is possible?
My rational mind started to tell me things such as "fourteen years is a long time", "but if I live as long as the average woman I have far more than fourteen years to go." Plus, the past fourteen seem to have passed with the speed of crossing the threshold into this store. Why shouldn't anything be possible? Why should I limit what my life will hold? Why should I assume that the greatest love of my life has already passed me by? Just then my plans were ready. I took them, thanking the kind man for his help. He had no idea that he'd given me more than plan copies, but I did. Then I stepped out of the store and into the next, greater, chapter in my life where anything is possible.
I was in Southern Photo in Durham, NC. It's been in the same location for fifty years, I know because I asked today. But I didn't need to ask to have an estimate of how long the store had been the same. It has a feel of days gone by and yet a sense of timelessness. At Southern Photo they make plan copies in a back room but up front they sell a variety of items. They have surveying supplies such as stakes, paint, ribbon, wheels, and equipment. As well as engineering items like scales and other measuring devices. There are also multiple shelves of paint, board, paper, colored pencils, charcoal, and other assorted art and architecture supplies. All of these items, along with the wood shelves, walls and flooring that have seen fifty years of weathering, all emit their own scent. Those scents then flow together in the air to form an intoxicating perfume all it's own.
As I browsed, patiently waiting as the first ninety seconds ticked by in my ten minute wait, I was overwhelmed with feeling. First I felt powerful feelings of love, of both being in love, and all the joy that brings, and feeling loved. I also felt a rush of hope and inspiration as if anything in the world was possible and all the best was yet to come. Finally, I was crushed with an unbearable weight of hopelessness and despair. I had tears well up in my eyes as stood there glancing at colored pencils and I was perplexed, slightly embarrassed - even though I was completely alone and unobserved - and curious as to where this all came from. Until it dawned on me that it was the smell, it was triggering these emotions.
This concoction, this indescribable scent of it's own, is from another time in my life. I fell in love for the first time in college, with an architecture major, and we spent many hours in places such as this one. He'd be picking out supplies he needed to complete a project and I'd be browsing behind him wishing I had classes that used such interesting and creative things. I'd be soaking in the smells and colors and waiting patiently. He'd still be looking at something but make a point to touch my hair or grab my hand. It was also a smell I couldn't escape because a corner of our home where his old wooden desk and supplies were kept also smelled the same way. We lived in an older building and the same co-mingling of old and new scents would create the smell. I would often drift over to his desk and just stand there and breathe in the scent when he was not home. It was in so many ways the smell of unconditional love and possibilities for the future. It was a time in my life when I struggled day to day for the bare necessities, like food and rent, but was still unbelievably happy in my everyday life. I felt very loved and believed that anything was possible. I was certain the best days of my life lay ahead of, and not behind, me. But things went awry, as life often does, and this smell became not only the trigger of those positive emotions but also of the negative.
The brain is a funny thing, it seems to have a music player in it that can be triggered by smells. As if the smell would flip a CD in my mind and the first track would be "falling in love for the first time." Followed by "unconditional acceptance", "love and feel loved", "anything is possible", and "the best is yet to come". Then the CD flips to another genre and the very next song is "life doesn't work out how you planned." Followed by, "why bother to believe", "people leave you", and "life is sad." This was the soundtrack my brain was playing all because of my nose. How interesting that my brain took information received from my nose and turned it into a powerful emotional playlist. I was able to observe my emotional response and delve deeper into what I might learn from it. I've been practicing Buddhist meditation lately and it's made this duality easier. I considered how much I used to love this smell and how I seemed to avoid it. I also realized that I wanted to dash in and dash out of Southern Photo because the first time I was in there last week I was uncomfortable. I now knew why. I also knew I have avoided places such as this over the years even though I enjoy wandering around and looking at the different things.
Why? Why had I done this? Because I believed more strongly in the negative emotions that this smell made me feel than I did in the positive emotions it made me feel. I thought about this for a while and realized that this assumption on my part, the one I've apparently held in my subconscious for the past fourteen years, is not true. What has happened, or has not happened to me, in the past fourteen years has been a direct result of my holding on to that negative belief system. It's a self fulfilling prophesy. I've rarely glimpsed the happiness I had back then because I believed it was lost to me. I've also been unable to sustain those rare glimpses because I thought them to be fleeting. I was certain they would end and thus they did. As I waited for my copies I drank in the smell with a purpose of trying to recapture the positive and leaving out the negative. Could I truly believe with such nakedly naive optimism again? I'm optimistic but am I too hardened by life to truly believe anything is possible?
My rational mind started to tell me things such as "fourteen years is a long time", "but if I live as long as the average woman I have far more than fourteen years to go." Plus, the past fourteen seem to have passed with the speed of crossing the threshold into this store. Why shouldn't anything be possible? Why should I limit what my life will hold? Why should I assume that the greatest love of my life has already passed me by? Just then my plans were ready. I took them, thanking the kind man for his help. He had no idea that he'd given me more than plan copies, but I did. Then I stepped out of the store and into the next, greater, chapter in my life where anything is possible.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Are Russians Right?
I heard a story on NPR a while back that told of how Russians look for a mate. It appears they seek someone to share the miseries of life. Someone that feels pain and the depth of life's hardships in the same way. A partner who will commiserate and be there during mournful times. One that knows the soul wrenching darkness that life can sometimes offer. Sounds dire, doesn't it? They see Americans as frivolous children living a fairy tale dream in their desire to find someone that makes them laugh. The Russian view of American romance is that we are always looking for someone to laugh with - what is that but movie magic, not real life.
I had an epiphany recently where I realized my search for laughter maybe the wrong way to go. I recognized a relationship pattern; the men that have made me laugh the most, that I have shared the greatest joys and warmest surprises - from soft giggles to hearty guffaws, have also been the ones to make me cry the most. By this I do not mean that they were there to share the miseries of life with me, granted sometimes they were, but mostly my tears were caused by my normally charming partner. Makes me wonder if the Russians share laughs at times and if they have greater depth. Maybe they are better off than Americans for maybe they accidentally make each other laugh in the same way we accidentally cause each other pain.
I had an epiphany recently where I realized my search for laughter maybe the wrong way to go. I recognized a relationship pattern; the men that have made me laugh the most, that I have shared the greatest joys and warmest surprises - from soft giggles to hearty guffaws, have also been the ones to make me cry the most. By this I do not mean that they were there to share the miseries of life with me, granted sometimes they were, but mostly my tears were caused by my normally charming partner. Makes me wonder if the Russians share laughs at times and if they have greater depth. Maybe they are better off than Americans for maybe they accidentally make each other laugh in the same way we accidentally cause each other pain.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
NYE, the flu, and neighbors
My New Year's Eve was supposed to be incredibly festive. Various groups of friends were doing things and I'd been invited to all of them. But we'd figured out what we were going to do and I got sick. I'd had a sore throat since around Christmas but thought it was just a cold. By Saturday I was running a fever, had the chills, lots of congestion, and felt like I'd run a marathon. So, to everyone I've infected with my germs I apologize but I didn't think I had the flu until this weekend. Needless to say, I spent NYE home, drugged up, and asleep on the couch.
That is until I was awakened by the drunken shouts of my neighbor's girlfriend. She is an interesting young woman, white, thick Southern accent, mid-twenties, chain smoker, with long hair styled like an 80's Metal band video star, and the mother of two small girls she lets run around by themselves often. She is similar to the women found on the Jerry Springer Show. She thought it best to tell the whole neighborhood how her boyfriend, a gentleman originally from Mexico, had hit her this evening. She proceeded to tell all of us this by screaming at the top of her lungs outside our townhouses. Many of us, yours truly included, went out to make sure she was not in any danger. She was mostly just intoxicated and suffering from a case of very loud potty mouth. Mind you she is not the only one in the neighborhood with small children. While she does not seem to care so much when, or if, her children sleep my other neighbors seem to have ideas about bed times and other child rearing practices.
Well, Jerry Springer Neighbor Girl proceeded to protest loudly that she wasn't getting enough attention. At which point one of the other men that lives with her boyfriend came out of their place and suggested someone sober (or mostly sober, I'm guessing) take her home. She agreed after much arguing and they left. I then went back to sleep. An hour and a half later, JSNG returned having convinced one of her friends to drive her back. I personally would not have called this other woman a friend. What kind of friend drives you back to the guy that hit you? Anyway, I know that JSNG would call this woman a friend because she did so loudly so all of us could hear. The friend then made the boyfriend promise he wouldn't hit JSNG anymore. Which he did. I think he really just wanted to go inside and not put on a show for all of us to watch. JSNG then proceeded to go on and on about how he may have hit her this one time but he really did do a lot for her. I found out, whether I wanted to know or not, that he paid for her kids clothes and shoes and other items while "their Daddy does nothing." I also found out that JSNG "f-ing loves him, even if he is a Mexican." This was apparently the first time either of them had used the word love and it appeared to make my neighbor, her boyfriend, uncomfortable. He didn't seem to mind paying for her kids but he didn't seem to want to be in love with her. She, of course, was too drunk to catch this but it didn't get by her friend. The friend asked if he loved her and he said, "yeah, sure." He then suggested that the friend go home so they could go in and stop disturbing the neighborhood. (Amen!) The friend was skeptical but she agreed and left and everyone went inside.
Update 1/15/08: The next morning was the last time I saw JSNG. She really should have left him when he hit her. He was trying to tell her all along that he didn't really love her.
That is until I was awakened by the drunken shouts of my neighbor's girlfriend. She is an interesting young woman, white, thick Southern accent, mid-twenties, chain smoker, with long hair styled like an 80's Metal band video star, and the mother of two small girls she lets run around by themselves often. She is similar to the women found on the Jerry Springer Show. She thought it best to tell the whole neighborhood how her boyfriend, a gentleman originally from Mexico, had hit her this evening. She proceeded to tell all of us this by screaming at the top of her lungs outside our townhouses. Many of us, yours truly included, went out to make sure she was not in any danger. She was mostly just intoxicated and suffering from a case of very loud potty mouth. Mind you she is not the only one in the neighborhood with small children. While she does not seem to care so much when, or if, her children sleep my other neighbors seem to have ideas about bed times and other child rearing practices.
Well, Jerry Springer Neighbor Girl proceeded to protest loudly that she wasn't getting enough attention. At which point one of the other men that lives with her boyfriend came out of their place and suggested someone sober (or mostly sober, I'm guessing) take her home. She agreed after much arguing and they left. I then went back to sleep. An hour and a half later, JSNG returned having convinced one of her friends to drive her back. I personally would not have called this other woman a friend. What kind of friend drives you back to the guy that hit you? Anyway, I know that JSNG would call this woman a friend because she did so loudly so all of us could hear. The friend then made the boyfriend promise he wouldn't hit JSNG anymore. Which he did. I think he really just wanted to go inside and not put on a show for all of us to watch. JSNG then proceeded to go on and on about how he may have hit her this one time but he really did do a lot for her. I found out, whether I wanted to know or not, that he paid for her kids clothes and shoes and other items while "their Daddy does nothing." I also found out that JSNG "f-ing loves him, even if he is a Mexican." This was apparently the first time either of them had used the word love and it appeared to make my neighbor, her boyfriend, uncomfortable. He didn't seem to mind paying for her kids but he didn't seem to want to be in love with her. She, of course, was too drunk to catch this but it didn't get by her friend. The friend asked if he loved her and he said, "yeah, sure." He then suggested that the friend go home so they could go in and stop disturbing the neighborhood. (Amen!) The friend was skeptical but she agreed and left and everyone went inside.
Update 1/15/08: The next morning was the last time I saw JSNG. She really should have left him when he hit her. He was trying to tell her all along that he didn't really love her.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)