This Defines LOL.

The Real World

I'm so close, I can taste it.

Farewell to Manic Mondays

Today is my last Monday.

You did not read that wrong. It's not my last "Monday" as in work Mondays. After today, I will no longer be formally recognizing Monday as a day of the week. It's just another day. No more 9am status meetings. No more hatred of the early alarm on Monday mornings because the alarm isn't going to be reminding me that I have a 9am status meeting. It will be reminding me that I get to get out of bed to live a life that I am choosing in which I am actually motivated to get up in the morning instead of lay in bed pondering which excuse I could drudge up that would relieve me from having to go to that 9am status meeting.

So from here on out, there is no such thing as Monday. The Go Go's* song will go like this:

It's just another manic day-ay. [oohhhh oo ohhhhh]
Don't wish it were another day. [oohhhh oo ohhhhh]
Cuz I live life my own way. [oohhhh oo ohhhhh]
And no one has a say-ay. [oohhhh oo ohhhhh]
It's just another manic day-ay.


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UPDATE *It has come to my attention that I am a big retard because I meant to say The Bangles, NOT the Go Go's. Dammit.

The Big Event

The St. Pauly Family had quite an eventful weekend. Friday night we went out with friends to celebrate South St. Pauly Girl's 30th birthday. SSPG and all her pregnant glory had a total blast, as did the drinkers in the crew. All around fabulous time. Saturday was a low-key day with afternoon naps, pizza, and movies. The sad news is that we found out that my uncle Harold passed away on Friday night. He had been very very ill, for a long time. It was expected, but no matter how expected death is, it still shakes you to the very core. He's in a much better place, finally out of pain, and knowing him, he's cracking sarcastic jokes about how all of us are behaving. I will miss him, big time.

You might think that was the Big Event of the weekend, but it wasn't. It's going to sound incredibly weird and most likely quite insensitive considering the recent death in the family, but trust me, the Big Event was a welcome distraction at the family gathering yesterday.

My dad shaved his moustache.

The last time I saw my dad without his moustache was when I was 2 years old. It's not like I remember it, but I've seen the pictures. In essence, this is the first time I've seen him sans facial hair in 30 years. That's a lot of years, yo. He doesn't look bad at all, just different. I'm not used to seeing his upper lip. Or the Cindy-Crawford style mole on his upper lip. Not only have we not seen him without the stache in 30 years, but he also didn't tell anyone that he shaved. He just shows up places and none of us are prepared. I freaked out when I saw him, turned to my brother and yelled "HOW DID YOU NOT TELL ME ABOUT THIS???". It was a humorous scene and my aunt and cousins were actually glad there was something else to talk about. We laughed and joked about it all day. It's a very good way to grieve.

Now we just need to have dad grow back the stache. I need it back. He can shave it again at my 60th birthday party.

Good Friend/Bad Friend

Being self-confident and seeming self-confident are two very different things. That may feel like an obvious statement, but it’s something that I’m coming to terms with as I mature*. Considering my history of depression and low self-esteem, I have come a long way with not only feeling confident in who I am, but actually portraying that confidence to others. As a whole, I feel good about the decisions that I make, how I treat people, and the way I feel about myself. I’m satisfied with the relationships that I have and feel the growing sense of enrichment they bring to my life.

I’m happy. Period. Space space.

So why am I harboring such insecurities and guilt towards a couple of my friendships?

Background would be helpful here. Specific to one of the friendships, which is actually connected to the other as well, but for which causes more angst than the other. We’ll call that person K**. K and I met in college through a mutual group of friends. We’ve had a lot of fun, been through rough life experiences, loved, lost, been hurt, done the hurting, and all of that typical life drama, together. As we’ve gotten older and furthered our personal responsibilities with jobs, marriage, and family, we’ve grown further apart. To me it feels like a somewhat natural occurrence between friends as lives change. I still love her as much as I always did, but lack the same sense of urgency with our contact that existed in our earlier years. It doesn’t bother me that we aren’t in close contact anymore, I’m satisfied with knowing that we’ll always be friends even if we haven’t spoken for months at a time. But word on the street is, she’s not sharing that same sentiment. In fact, she’s “disappointed”. That might seem harmless, but it’s not. She’s not “disappointed” that we’re not close anymore, she’s “disappointed” that I’m not making an effort. K tends to behave in a very passive-aggressive way, which gets under my skin to the point of near-rage. I have a VERY low tolerance for p-a behavior. The way I come to discover her attitude towards me is in round-about ways. For example, through conversation with mutual friends in which she discusses me***, sending Christmas cards to everyone that we know (including my own parents, by the way) but not to us, and inviting everyone we know (at least not my parents this time) to a birthday party but not us. Despite these things, which ultimately make me angry due to their lack of maturity, I’m not displaying any higher level of maturity myself. I bought myself a ticket to the game and I plan to stay till the end, no matter how many overtimes/shout-outs there need to be in order to determine a winner. And that’s fucked up too, because unless we end up both being satisfied with the outcome, there’s no such thing as having a “winner” in this game. Deep down I feel guilty, like I am the sole member of this relationship whom is to blame for it’s descent. Like I’m throwing away all of our history, making it seem like none of it was worth anything because life changes and people grow apart and it should be no big deal. But the truth of it is, life DOES change and people DO grow apart and I don’t think it IS a huge deal, provided you have a fulfilling life.

So here we sit. She refuses to call me and I refuse to call her. How is that for maturity? I think my source for resistance stems from the fact that for the span of our relationship, I’ve always been the one to call. I always came through. And the sad thing is, most of the time it was out of fear that if I didn’t, she’d be mad at me or something. Well, enough is fucking enough. I have run out of energy for the effort that it’s taking me to continue this relationship. The problem is, I can’t seem to kick the guilt. Why do I feel so guilty about something that I feel is ultimately life taking it’s path? Why do I feel so guilty even when I’m actually quite satisfied and happy with my life?? I feel like I’ve been manipulated into feeling this way, which makes me more and more angry. I think anyone would tell me that in order to kick the guilt and subsequent anger towards the issue, I need to just confront it. But in the past with K, confrontations do not resolve the issue. I always leave them feeling worse than before. Like it’s my fault. My desired course of action would be to learn to ignore the guilt, live my life the way I like it, and when we see each other we see each other. If she wants confrontation, let her ask for it. This tactic is of course assuming that I CAN ignore the guilt, which has thus far been difficult. I'm not saying it'd be impossible, but I would need some helfpul hints on how to MAKE it possible in order to succeed.

On top of all of this crap, my personality profile is that of conflicting values. I like being the confident one, who doesn’t need to gain approval for my choices, but the sensitive side of me needs the approval. WTF am I supposed to do with that? Be confident. NO, get approval. Be confident. NO, please everyone around you no matter what. But the fact of the matter is, I’m dying for other people’s opinions on this. And I don’t even care if it’s disagreeable. Well, maybe a little, but I’m a big girl, I can take it.

Help dig me out of the proverbial personality traits conflict that I’ve dug myself into. Either that, or just blow smoke up my ass and tell me I’m right. Just don't tell me that it's because I'm Catholic. I really hate that stereotype.

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*Mature being a relative term.
**Letter contains no relevance to the actual person, whatsoever.
***Using the term "discussing" loosely, it tends to be more like bitch-about-me-behind-my-back but I’m actually attempting to be nice and objective about this situation which is getting more and more difficult as I type. Bitchiness is a downward spiral and I’m on the slide, people.

American Idol Liveblogging*

8:23pm

Favorite quote from reality televison:

"Simon can kiss my ass cuz I do not look like a monkey."

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*Liveblogging inspired by my favorite Squab.

Don't Drink The Sand

Mary Poppins and her “spoonful of sugar” has nothing on the tactics used in Corporate America to ease Employee Discomfort. It’s all about balloons, donuts, and the physical presence of Executives that get us through the rough times. But the thing is, it doesn’t matter how much “cheese” is involved, Employee Discomfort will fight the good fight. It will pop those balloons, barf up the donuts, and scuff the Executive’s Cole Haan shoes. There is no such thing as Employee Comfort. It’s just a myth. Urban legend, if you will. Because no matter how festive the work environment or how functional the tools to achieve premium productivity resulting in ultimate job satisfaction, there will always be something to bitch about. It’s a never ending cycle of unhappiness. The bad times are always bad for the same reasons – no matter how much you try, The Man will always get you down. But it’s not always The Man’s fault. Don’t get me wrong, The Man is pure evil in most cases, but I refuse to let The Employee off the hook that easy. You have to rise above the power to live in neutral territory. Take the good with the good and the bad with a grain of salt. Otherwise you just won’t survive. You’re doomed to a 9-5 of unhappiness and gloom. Along with the potential of a 5-7 of pure alcoholism and drug addiction.

I have a prime example. Response to surveys conducted after employee training sessions on new software being implemented at the company are highly positive, except for one aspect: required training time. It always takes too much time out of the self-important employee’s schedule to provide the necessary instruction on the new tool being provided to help them work more efficiently. “I just love this new system, but the training just took too much time out of my busy schedule. Can’t we just learn it on our own?” Sure, that would be just fine if the prime result of self-training wasn’t the immediate refusal to accept the new tool as part of the solution to managing such high volumes of workload. Thus the reduction in the overall morale of the company. And the potential statement, “They really should have taken more time to train us on the new system.” There doesn’t seem to be a middle ground for employee satisfaction.

But there is, I’m sure of it. People just have to stop being complete and utter morons in order to find the middle ground. There’s no shortage of morons in the workplace, hence middle ground feels like just an illusion. A beautiful landscape, just ahead, that you crawl towards on your hands and knees through the sand, dying of thirst and sweating all the last nutrients out of your body, only to arrive and realize that it’s an oasis. Unless you create your own middle ground, you’ll die drinking the sand.

I’ve been choking on sand for almost 6 years. I’m ready for some fresh spring water. I think I’ll pour myself a tall glass and enjoy.

The Monkey Made Me Say It.

Coolest web site I've seen in a while. But then again, we all know how easily entertained I am.

Monk-e-mail.

Lindsay Hohan

Is it me or does this photo not look right to you? Aside from the fact that her outfit is hideous, doesn't her head look like a blow-up doll and her body like a paper doll?? It's not proportioned well, at all. I don't know why I'm so bothered, but this photo is haunting me.

I Broke Up With Argyle

I finally ended my affair with Argyle. It was rough, there were a lot of tears, but I think we'll both be better off in the long run. Argyle was just not getting along with Haloscan and while I have strong feelings for both, I had to make a choice.

Farewell, sweet Argyle. I'll always cherish the good times we had together.

P.S. Hey, new guy, 897 or whatever your name is, if you don't start behaving yourself, I'll have to dump your ass too.

P.P.S. Dearest Haloscan, why oh why is everyone plotting against you? I fear the thought of losing you to the evil Blogger Comments. Please come home, Halo. Please.

HTML = Bite Me, Blogger

New template = assload of issues with the comments feature. But my superhero husband and HTML Literate will fix it. Oh he will fix it. So until then, you just have to wait to yell at me. :)

Happy New Year To Everyone But The Crabby People

I learned a valuable lesson upon the turn of clock this New Year's. Don't text message anyone with children or grandma's at midnight, to wish them a happy new year. I received an electronic bitch-slap from a friend complaining I woke his child and grandma by sending my message. I claim pure ignorance as I was not made aware that it is my responsibility to refrain from cellular contact in the chance that the child and/or grandma are sleeping and you haven't put your phone on silent. I know how the text alerts can sound similar to a fire alarm and all, I should be ashamed of myself. Maybe I'll just cancel my mobile service to avoid the chance I may try to wish anyone anything after midnight and wake up the whole neighborhood. That way I'll be safe.

Damn me and my friendliness.