Ashley is jobless again. Went into work today to learn her assignment as a temp ended the Friday before. Came home tonight and she was posted on the couch, wrapped in a comforter, watching It's Always Sunny while wearing prescription sunglasses because she left her busted eyeglasses in VA. Probably with the friend who scored her pot. Whatever.
My boss is going on vacation to Aruba. What. the. hell. I try to take a week off to wash my floors and do laundry and he's blowin up my phone. I do not understand the concept of vacation. I really don't. Every trip I go on is a chore on some level. It's a break from my life but it's not really a break. Going home is looking for ways to help my parents, going to see most of my friends involves a spouse and children. I never regret going but it's hard to get me there. No one understands this better that my Soul Twin. Soul Twin is kind of my go-to girlfriend because we were truly separated at birth. I'm probably going to D.C. for work this week. We'll have dinner or we won't while I'm in town. We both understand how the other gets weirded out and stressed and sometimes just needs to get going. It's nice to know someone who knows what it's like to be me. We can give eachother permission to do things because we know how the other thinks and why something bothers us the way it does. A lot of my friends stretch me and inspire me, ST does that but she also really gets me. I can call her breathless and out of control stressed over something really, really, insignificant. Really insignificant. Like, I wanted to sit outside today and I missed the sun in the courtyard and now I'm in a bad mood, and how that is just a part of a bigger issue/symptom in my hollow life, insignificant. Yea, we can go a good 40 minutes on that and cover a lot of ground. I'm grateful for her.
I am so restless right now. I wish I had it in me to pick up in go, abscond my responsibilities and obligations. I am tripping over myself mentally. Everything is everything. I feel boxed in waiting for something beyond my control to shake the uncertainty from my life. I want to know where I'm going, where I'll be next year. I want a printer that connects to my wireless router, I want a boyfriend, I want to get off of paper mail all together because this paper if freaking killing me. You can't just throw it away anymore for fear of identity theft and I don't have a fireplace anymore to stage mass burnings of shit I didn't want to come to my house in the first place. I don't feel like I am even treading water right now. I have difficulty writing over the soundtrack of the television and kind of dread coming home because it isn't a refuge. I'm ready to admit an unhealthy obsession with my boss which is really a reflection of my life's emptiness more than a measure of his appeal as a human being or a man. He's a place I can direct energy that returns good energy back. It's unhealthy because like any supplement, it's not meant to replace actual sustenance.
In a few minutes I will head to the gym. Had I gone an hour ago, I would probably be pumped but now I'm half dressed under the covers and enjoying a moment alone in my filthy house. The year is almost over and the worst of the winter is ahead of us. I can't believe how wrong I was about what I hoped would come of Philly. I hate the in-between times.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Friday, November 26, 2010
Imma Be
You've probably figured it out by now but I'm the straight-laced sibling. The one who didn't see the point of drinking underage, who was never even offered drugs, and who into her twenties would not even say the word swear and considered hell and damn to her saltiest language. Times have clearly changed at least as it concerns the use of expletives (fuck, yea!) but at my core, I'm not really a rule breaker and I value people's trust.
As best I can describe someone I'm not, my brother and sister have never been that person. They are great at being likable and to some extent good at deception. They are not as good at hiding 'stuff' but they are good at hiding who they are. They like to plant; make what appear to be spontaneous statements to both gauge your reaction and throw you off the trail. When my sister started smoking (cigarettes) before we found out, she told me this long elaborate story that involved her best friend who had started smoking with my sister cast as the counselor urging her not to and outlining for me all the reasons she would never smoke. She was already smoking. That to me was evil. To go out of your way to deceive. We weren't even talking about smoking. We weren't talking about anything, just on our way back from the store on a random Sunday morning.
When she visited last year Thanksgiving, her clothes and bags reeked of marijuana and when she moved in with her still reeking bags, she tried to tell me, a person who spent my first few years out of college running drug cases, that I didn't know what I was talking about. She may be 23 but she wasn't living like an adult so I started tossing her room. I found what I hoped I wouldn't, including pictures of her in her cell phone actually smoking a blunt. Fucking idiot. I don't know where you all fall on the debate over whether the drug should be legalized but is isn't right now and I don't appreciate her bringing the paraphernalia and the substance in my house, even if she chooses to hide it (badly). The thing about deciding someone has no expectation of privacy while they live with you without bringing them in on the loop--it doesn't make me feel good. Confronting her about it is difficult because it immediately devolves into a discussion about invasion of privacy instead of disrespect of my household and livelihood bringing that shit in my house.
I wish I didn't feel it was necessary. If she were a grownup doing her grownup shit in her own grownup house with her own grownup money, I still want better for her but it has very little chance of fucking up my orbit. But that's not where we are at so that's not how we roll. I toss her shit, and I'm going to start throwing away anything I find that I don't want in my house. She'll know it's me but I want to make her challenge me about throwing out her bong or her weed. I want to have that discussion with her. I want her to tell me why it's worse for me to discard things that can actually get me fired from my home where she lives rent free than it is for her to bring them in my house to begin with. We won't have that conversation though. She'll just know (I hope) that while she lives with me, it won't be a place she can do stupid shit like that and it will motivate her to find her own place. I think I am learning more about how people hide this stuff now than I ever did working this stuff when I was younger. I guess its different when you live it. It's honestly the worst part of this entire stinking deal. The deception.
Woe to you would-be unborn children of mine-I am going to be a REALLY tough mother. Better your aunt than your mother because I will take no prisoners. Like white on rice my friend. I should probably stick to dogs.
As best I can describe someone I'm not, my brother and sister have never been that person. They are great at being likable and to some extent good at deception. They are not as good at hiding 'stuff' but they are good at hiding who they are. They like to plant; make what appear to be spontaneous statements to both gauge your reaction and throw you off the trail. When my sister started smoking (cigarettes) before we found out, she told me this long elaborate story that involved her best friend who had started smoking with my sister cast as the counselor urging her not to and outlining for me all the reasons she would never smoke. She was already smoking. That to me was evil. To go out of your way to deceive. We weren't even talking about smoking. We weren't talking about anything, just on our way back from the store on a random Sunday morning.
When she visited last year Thanksgiving, her clothes and bags reeked of marijuana and when she moved in with her still reeking bags, she tried to tell me, a person who spent my first few years out of college running drug cases, that I didn't know what I was talking about. She may be 23 but she wasn't living like an adult so I started tossing her room. I found what I hoped I wouldn't, including pictures of her in her cell phone actually smoking a blunt. Fucking idiot. I don't know where you all fall on the debate over whether the drug should be legalized but is isn't right now and I don't appreciate her bringing the paraphernalia and the substance in my house, even if she chooses to hide it (badly). The thing about deciding someone has no expectation of privacy while they live with you without bringing them in on the loop--it doesn't make me feel good. Confronting her about it is difficult because it immediately devolves into a discussion about invasion of privacy instead of disrespect of my household and livelihood bringing that shit in my house.
I wish I didn't feel it was necessary. If she were a grownup doing her grownup shit in her own grownup house with her own grownup money, I still want better for her but it has very little chance of fucking up my orbit. But that's not where we are at so that's not how we roll. I toss her shit, and I'm going to start throwing away anything I find that I don't want in my house. She'll know it's me but I want to make her challenge me about throwing out her bong or her weed. I want to have that discussion with her. I want her to tell me why it's worse for me to discard things that can actually get me fired from my home where she lives rent free than it is for her to bring them in my house to begin with. We won't have that conversation though. She'll just know (I hope) that while she lives with me, it won't be a place she can do stupid shit like that and it will motivate her to find her own place. I think I am learning more about how people hide this stuff now than I ever did working this stuff when I was younger. I guess its different when you live it. It's honestly the worst part of this entire stinking deal. The deception.
Woe to you would-be unborn children of mine-I am going to be a REALLY tough mother. Better your aunt than your mother because I will take no prisoners. Like white on rice my friend. I should probably stick to dogs.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Being there
I don't know about you but Thanksgiving at my house, well any occasion at my house goes a little like this. Eating until watching food commercials provoke nausea followed by watching my parents talk on the phone to their extended family. Then I alternate between watching my mother nap between dialysis in her extremely warm room or hanging out with my father in a more temperate wing of the house for whatever he's doing. That's probably just happening here but there is something about just being there, even though we're not doing anything. Perhaps there is a more ideal scene going down somewhere else; decorating houses or trees, camping out for sales, excited about getting that great deal on the thing you know will make someone's eyes wide with delight. As for me and mine, Ashley is out with her friends, my father is sleeping on the couch, my mother upstairs in her sauna, and I am at the kitchen table in my pajamas dealing with the guilt and bloating.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Back to the network?
Other than the haterade out there for my sistas, one of the big problems of the internet as a singles bar is that it gives you too much information out of context and lets each person chose which foot to put forward. Judging by the over 50 thousand people online right now, we probably don't pick out the best shoe to put on that foot. There are quizzes and compatibility percentages and all sorts of ways to sort but I can't think of anyone I know that would have picked the person they are married to now if they saw them on the internet first and read a profile. We try to be attractive to one another but you never really know what draws a person to you at any given moment. Most couples I know don't have a ton of common interests outside their interest in one another yet you rarely come across a profile that doesn't want their prospective mate or date to be into whatever they are into. I don't think it works like that, that you are waiting to be completed by someone who also understands some obscure reference you've put in your profile like it's a treasure map only the right person will be able to read and understand.
That aside, I'm thinking of returning to the network. That's right Lodo, the Black People Network redux. Need to feel the love. Need to have to clean out my inbox everyday because I've got it like that. Want to not have to scroll through a profile to figure out if he's even worth considering on account of his racial preferences for usually everyone but me. Yea, that's probably going to happen again soon. So much more blog fodder on that site. Polish men with bats, foot fetishes, guys who want me to compare myself to a Living Single cast member...and who can forget beautiful Rob?
That aside, I'm thinking of returning to the network. That's right Lodo, the Black People Network redux. Need to feel the love. Need to have to clean out my inbox everyday because I've got it like that. Want to not have to scroll through a profile to figure out if he's even worth considering on account of his racial preferences for usually everyone but me. Yea, that's probably going to happen again soon. So much more blog fodder on that site. Polish men with bats, foot fetishes, guys who want me to compare myself to a Living Single cast member...and who can forget beautiful Rob?
Monday, November 22, 2010
Also
If the state of a person's soul or character was in any way a reflection of the number of cavities a person has, I would definitely be going to hell. On Friday when I visited this dentist there was much gushing about how awesome my teeth and mouth were and what a good job I was doing. I thought I might even get my name on a plaque or be asked to be a patient ambassador for some wayward dental stewards or something. Today the receptionist called to tell me I had 8 cavities. Not sure that's possible but until I get a second opinion, I'm kind of in a bad mood about it. I was especially annoyed with the non-dentist receptionist schooling me on how cavities form over time and that the kind of cavities I had suggested there was a "flossing issue." Bitch, I have a cavity issue and an issue with you telling me I have 8 cavities, self-esteem issues, work-life balance issues, intermittent back issues, but what I can assure you I do NOT have is a "flossing issue."
Seriously. Who does that? You're not telling me I have high blood pressure and need to lose 15 pounds. It's not like I can floss the cavities away. Shut your damn mouth.
Seriously. Who does that? You're not telling me I have high blood pressure and need to lose 15 pounds. It's not like I can floss the cavities away. Shut your damn mouth.
Worth at least 50 words
I don't have the camera and didn't have the tripod to do this justice but it was beautiful.
Then the moon snuck between the buildings...
Meanwhile, the sun was rising.
Only to set again later that night and return the moon to the train station in Philly.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
It seemed like a good idea at the time
Doesn't it always? Spontaneity, act first, think later, unleash the possibility, invite that encounter, carpe diem, Robin Williams. The hormone fueled cloud brewing overhead would suggest this weekend was a lesson in leaving that day unseized, that whatever is out there isn't necessarily a fated encounter, it could be anticlimactically like the life you fled. That discovery has its own value and impact though not nearly as magical and interesting one as meeting a handsome stranger on the train which would definitely have felt like a reward for breaking set with my normal routine. Instead I missed every scheduled departure, wondered if I did want the trappings of adult life or responsibility for other human beings and took pictures of the moon against the New York City skyline at sunrise.
I was fine with how I spent my time, however unravelled, until I walked into my front door. Sarah Palin's voice greeted me from the television which upset and irritated me in ways given the arc of her exposure lately, will likely provoke a dedicated post. The washer was going which annoyed me. I do both my and Ashley's laundry because I don't trust her with the machine it reminded me that I needed to buy detergent which I was sure she had used copious amounts of in the wrong slots. Then I walked into the kitchen and it was terrible. In addition to the mess, there was the phenom that occurs every single time I leave the house-she cleans me out. Eats every damn thing. It's insane. I left the house near 5 yesterday, returned at 7 today. Just over 24 hours of opportunity, much of which is usually dedicated to sleeping. I have seen her for the first time in a day at 3pm during the weekend. It's like when she knows I'm not going to be around overnight she just goes for broke. In my imagination, I see her locking the door, unhitching her jaw, and just eating until she passes out reviving only to begin consumption anew. Grinds my gears, it does.
She was out walking the dog when I arrived home so I took in the scene, said aloud, 'I need her gone,' changed the channel, and got in the shower, hoping to avoid seeing her while I was in the wrong frame of mind to deal. She came in while I was in the shower, when I got out, she asked me if I had eaten, I told her over the wall that I wasn't feeling well and was going to bed, and she promptly went into the kitchen to put away the dishwasher dishes and clean out the sink. She knows. I know I would not have been as bent if I had not made an effort to have a different kind of weekend and had not encountered so many obstacles in trying to do the same. It's a very frustrating feeling soon to be displaced by whatever this week has in store for me. Still, I did try, right?
That's what I get for trying.
I was fine with how I spent my time, however unravelled, until I walked into my front door. Sarah Palin's voice greeted me from the television which upset and irritated me in ways given the arc of her exposure lately, will likely provoke a dedicated post. The washer was going which annoyed me. I do both my and Ashley's laundry because I don't trust her with the machine it reminded me that I needed to buy detergent which I was sure she had used copious amounts of in the wrong slots. Then I walked into the kitchen and it was terrible. In addition to the mess, there was the phenom that occurs every single time I leave the house-she cleans me out. Eats every damn thing. It's insane. I left the house near 5 yesterday, returned at 7 today. Just over 24 hours of opportunity, much of which is usually dedicated to sleeping. I have seen her for the first time in a day at 3pm during the weekend. It's like when she knows I'm not going to be around overnight she just goes for broke. In my imagination, I see her locking the door, unhitching her jaw, and just eating until she passes out reviving only to begin consumption anew. Grinds my gears, it does.
She was out walking the dog when I arrived home so I took in the scene, said aloud, 'I need her gone,' changed the channel, and got in the shower, hoping to avoid seeing her while I was in the wrong frame of mind to deal. She came in while I was in the shower, when I got out, she asked me if I had eaten, I told her over the wall that I wasn't feeling well and was going to bed, and she promptly went into the kitchen to put away the dishwasher dishes and clean out the sink. She knows. I know I would not have been as bent if I had not made an effort to have a different kind of weekend and had not encountered so many obstacles in trying to do the same. It's a very frustrating feeling soon to be displaced by whatever this week has in store for me. Still, I did try, right?
That's what I get for trying.
Friday, November 19, 2010
I wanna feel good
A little here and there tonight so let's start with something that's been on my mind for, I don't know, years.
Dear 3rd street Starbucks,
Three, sometimes four people behind the counter at any given time and every last one of you evokes the sense of urgency of an opium den. I get the same mother-lovin plain black coffee every single day. Every day. When I get to the front of the line after you've lingered for a deep thoughts pause between customers, you say 'tall black?' I say yes and then you either stand there and wait for someone five steps away to do the complicated kabuki dance that is filling my cup or you slowly turn around and do it yourself in the careful and determined way a five year old would pour coffee. For the very first time. If you worked at a bar you would absolutely be fired and that's serving a depressant. You are serving speed to people who need speed, who are already irritable because they haven't had any since the day before and you are moving too. fucking. slow. I hate you for being more conveniently located on my way to work. I know I'll get my coffee eventually but not before you serve me a steamy mug of frustration. Not unlike the steamy dump I want to take on your register (right in the ol tip box) in protest. Or maybe just to see if you are physically capable of moving any faster.
Be faster.
Ava
--
So it's official, I'm officially lame. I'm hopeful it won't last but wondering what it means when even a good day-a great day, brings me almost as low as I was high. Preliminary analysis suggests work and even the people at work, can't love you in a way that fills and spills over into your life. Professional admiration, affection, and respect make it a tad easier to get out of bed but they don't make it easier to come home to an empty life. I look forward to this next move for the possibility of extending the co-dependent relationship I have with my boss right now but also for the misplaced optimism of becoming someone better in a new space and place. Like one of these days I'll move and leave the worst of me behind. A recipe for running the rest of my life.
I'm just looking for something to pour my life into. Something that fills me even as I empty myself into it. I struggle with whether to search for it or work on not wanting it.
Dear 3rd street Starbucks,
Three, sometimes four people behind the counter at any given time and every last one of you evokes the sense of urgency of an opium den. I get the same mother-lovin plain black coffee every single day. Every day. When I get to the front of the line after you've lingered for a deep thoughts pause between customers, you say 'tall black?' I say yes and then you either stand there and wait for someone five steps away to do the complicated kabuki dance that is filling my cup or you slowly turn around and do it yourself in the careful and determined way a five year old would pour coffee. For the very first time. If you worked at a bar you would absolutely be fired and that's serving a depressant. You are serving speed to people who need speed, who are already irritable because they haven't had any since the day before and you are moving too. fucking. slow. I hate you for being more conveniently located on my way to work. I know I'll get my coffee eventually but not before you serve me a steamy mug of frustration. Not unlike the steamy dump I want to take on your register (right in the ol tip box) in protest. Or maybe just to see if you are physically capable of moving any faster.
Be faster.
Ava
--
So it's official, I'm officially lame. I'm hopeful it won't last but wondering what it means when even a good day-a great day, brings me almost as low as I was high. Preliminary analysis suggests work and even the people at work, can't love you in a way that fills and spills over into your life. Professional admiration, affection, and respect make it a tad easier to get out of bed but they don't make it easier to come home to an empty life. I look forward to this next move for the possibility of extending the co-dependent relationship I have with my boss right now but also for the misplaced optimism of becoming someone better in a new space and place. Like one of these days I'll move and leave the worst of me behind. A recipe for running the rest of my life.
I'm just looking for something to pour my life into. Something that fills me even as I empty myself into it. I struggle with whether to search for it or work on not wanting it.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Best-ies, brown sweaters, and ex-boyfriends
I was kind of wondering about him today. Before I moved here, a girlfriend who believes in signs and wonders and likes to farm her dreams for meaning told me she had feeling I would meet my Mr. in Philadelphia. Somewhere between her and her mother, my Mr. was provided in a vision wearing a brown shirt and it messed with my mind in the same way reading horoscopes at the beginning of the day did when I was teenager.
Knowing this time next year I will be somewhere else, I've indulged in some magical thinking about the time that remains and have decided my magic lies somewhere at the UPS store near my house. My dog has been trying to go in that store since we moved here for reasons unknown, there are likely to be men in brown milling about, I took shelter inside the door well of the UPS store after breaking my ankle, and it is located on the same street that I have twice found significant sums of money. So there. It's a done deal. I may as well get cracking on the seating arrangements.
I was reminded today of why I refused to have weight loss goals while looking through photos on my camera. Why are you so hurtful camera? One good full body shot would be...I don't even know, merciful, encouraging, impossible?
I keep having recurring daydreams of my ex-boyfriend showing up at my office and trying to kill me. Literally haven't communicated with or seen the man in over 7 years. Of course my ninja always prevails but they are kind of disturbing daydreams.
I asked my boss if he was high today after he asked me to do his work (again). I'm probably getting too mouthy for my own good. It's just easier to be tart and incredulous than actually air my grievances and really lay into him. He doesn't have the attention span for that. Even if he does, I can't see investing the energy. I already invest too much of my energy and attention on him. Simply because he's my best friend at work and might be my favorite person in Philadelphia. To be fair, he doesn't have particularly stiff competition, but it's still sad that I miss him when he's not in the office. I think he misses me too. I don't think he really needs me as much as he bugs me-he just wants an excuse to talk to me. He-he. Cracks me up. I think it makes a huge positive difference to have a best friend at work. Lucky for him, I'm also a good assistant to the manager. What do they say? If you're called to be a servant, don't stoop to be a King? I'll just take that and run with it until I decide to take a run at the crown.
Speaking of best friends, I think I'm going to stop using that designation. It was important when we were younger and in peer groups where it just seemed natural to award those titles but as an adult, I think you can honor the sense of history you have with someone without burdening them with the title and expectations of a best friend. Nevermind the caveated introduction 'best friend from high school/college/basic training/Colorado/Maryland...etc). As it stands, those of us who live like gypsies are bound to fall in love over and over again with someone everywhere we hang our hat. Some of those connections last. Some don't. Truly its damn lucky to have more than one person you might consider your best friend for any part of your life. I am that kind of lucky. My collection of best friends are amazing.
My sister mentioned they are looking to harvest eggs from women for use with infertile couples. They being the hospital she works for. They of course pay for them but it appealed to me because things are just not looking good for ol Ava on the will she/won't she live happily ever after with Mr. and damn it if I'm not already 35. So just knowing a piece of me is out there and that further, I helped someone who had everything else, fill this desire, really appeals to me. I have a vague recollection of hearing somewhere that it's worth every cent they pay you because it is NOT a pleasant process but I think it would still be kind of cool. Or weird and creepy. Really vacillating on this one.
Knowing this time next year I will be somewhere else, I've indulged in some magical thinking about the time that remains and have decided my magic lies somewhere at the UPS store near my house. My dog has been trying to go in that store since we moved here for reasons unknown, there are likely to be men in brown milling about, I took shelter inside the door well of the UPS store after breaking my ankle, and it is located on the same street that I have twice found significant sums of money. So there. It's a done deal. I may as well get cracking on the seating arrangements.
I was reminded today of why I refused to have weight loss goals while looking through photos on my camera. Why are you so hurtful camera? One good full body shot would be...I don't even know, merciful, encouraging, impossible?
I keep having recurring daydreams of my ex-boyfriend showing up at my office and trying to kill me. Literally haven't communicated with or seen the man in over 7 years. Of course my ninja always prevails but they are kind of disturbing daydreams.
I asked my boss if he was high today after he asked me to do his work (again). I'm probably getting too mouthy for my own good. It's just easier to be tart and incredulous than actually air my grievances and really lay into him. He doesn't have the attention span for that. Even if he does, I can't see investing the energy. I already invest too much of my energy and attention on him. Simply because he's my best friend at work and might be my favorite person in Philadelphia. To be fair, he doesn't have particularly stiff competition, but it's still sad that I miss him when he's not in the office. I think he misses me too. I don't think he really needs me as much as he bugs me-he just wants an excuse to talk to me. He-he. Cracks me up. I think it makes a huge positive difference to have a best friend at work. Lucky for him, I'm also a good assistant to the manager. What do they say? If you're called to be a servant, don't stoop to be a King? I'll just take that and run with it until I decide to take a run at the crown.
Speaking of best friends, I think I'm going to stop using that designation. It was important when we were younger and in peer groups where it just seemed natural to award those titles but as an adult, I think you can honor the sense of history you have with someone without burdening them with the title and expectations of a best friend. Nevermind the caveated introduction 'best friend from high school/college/basic training/Colorado/Maryland...etc). As it stands, those of us who live like gypsies are bound to fall in love over and over again with someone everywhere we hang our hat. Some of those connections last. Some don't. Truly its damn lucky to have more than one person you might consider your best friend for any part of your life. I am that kind of lucky. My collection of best friends are amazing.
My sister mentioned they are looking to harvest eggs from women for use with infertile couples. They being the hospital she works for. They of course pay for them but it appealed to me because things are just not looking good for ol Ava on the will she/won't she live happily ever after with Mr. and damn it if I'm not already 35. So just knowing a piece of me is out there and that further, I helped someone who had everything else, fill this desire, really appeals to me. I have a vague recollection of hearing somewhere that it's worth every cent they pay you because it is NOT a pleasant process but I think it would still be kind of cool. Or weird and creepy. Really vacillating on this one.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Satisfaction
I can see most of my bed now. I am feeling fairly satisfied with the weekend's accomplishments including an hour in the park today with Baloo treeing squirrels. I made a connection between a childhood memory and my love of sky naps in warm cars. I got bummed that I have not perfected the new timing of when the sun floods the patio area in our courtyard. I've wanted every day this weekend to sit in the sun until it disappears and have every day missed that narrow window. I tried harder to dress like someone who likes themselves. I came close on Saturday. Today was a miss on account of some stone-washed Levi's I resurrected that really should have not been disturbed. I bought 2 purses today that were fabulous and ridiculously expensive relative to how much I usually pay. Completely worth it. My neighbor, a dedicated bargain hunter visibly blanched and she didn't even know how much I spent. Weird. I made sausage and peppers, baked some quick bread, and even squeezed in a workout. Today was the kind of ideal day I often imagine is someone's entire enviable life. Today it was mine.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Do I amuse you?
Got a call from a friend after my last post, taking me to task as she often does, but also like Lodo, finding the post hilarious. I won't do it justice but my friend explained even though it was clear I was not having a good day, a sense of humor was still evident. She told me what she specifically found funny and I've re-read the post a couple of times since then-it's honestly a stretch for me to see what could make someone actually laugh. And Lodo, I feel bad for my penis punching comment as you are clearly not alone in finding my inside-out missives on the sad state of my human condition amusing. Only one other time have I been so despondent and been met with laughter. I wrote a girlfriend after my ex sent me an engagement picture and she found my high drama so....I guess over the top, that it gave her deep and satisfying belly laughs. So the upside of my personal despair is the mirth it creates for those around me when I attempt to describe it.
Awesome.
Awesome.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Hater
I'm annoyed with all of you, who in spite what is obviously wrong with you have managed to find someone who said yes. Yes to everything. I'm annoyed that you manage to travel, that you do interesting things, know stuff I'm not interested in learning but hate that you know. I hate that you think you know how I feel, that you can commiserate with me when I know full well your life is more than sleep and eat and you don't understand why I feel like people should be lining the sidewalks cheering when I manage to mail a package. I resent your triumph in circumstances that would (and do) best me. I'm not the person to tell that you've decided to run a marathon. I'll admire the crap out of you and hate myself even more. Totally not your fault but that's totally what's going to happen.
And I hope you resent me too. I hope there is something about me beyond you. Something you wish was innate, like my hateful attitude or my militant streak. Or my legs. Or my street fighting dog. Or my dating (and general) misfortune for its intrinsic storytelling value.
I'm a great friend to those in sorrow and a terrible friend otherwise, especially if you aren't physically close. It's not so much out of sight out of mind, more out of arm's reach and I'm a deeply lazy person. I'm also a service oriented person. If I'm not doing anything for you, I'm not sure what we're doing. Having fun doesn't count. Maybe because what I wanted figured into very little growing up, maybe because I'm just wired that way but if it's not mandatory or exigent, it's harder to make a space for it. Who knows. I don't like feeling like I'm being fit into the corner of a person's otherwise overflowing life. I struggle to understand what I'm doing there. I don't like feeling bad about myself as a result of surrounding myself with people who are doing a better job at giving life a better run for its money. I walked home in a muttering mood in the dark wishing I was the kind of person who considered the night young at 7pm and was annoyed that my cancelled trainer appointment was found time only for me to stay later at work. And I stayed at work because what else was I going to do? I hated the cold and the feeling there was no one to call, no company to be had. There is fur covered brown-eyed company currently willing me with her eyes to de-ass the couch and venture back out into the cold but aside from that...
I'm annoyed with how slow I can sometimes be. That I didn't immediately recognize the gentle brush off from SBJ. I'm annoyed any grey matter of mine is even devoting attention to the notion of continued contact with someone who seems at least on paper to be kind of terrible boyfriend material. I'm annoyed in a very macro sense at times that I'm not white because being black is such a non-starter to so many men I might otherwise talk to. I don't want to be white but let me tell you, it never ceases to sting a little to see my demographic excluded. That part of a person that wants to belong well, just wants to belong. Doesn't want to be left waiting to be picked because of something that doesn't even speak to whether you would otherwise get along. It is what it is though and truly not something to dwell on as there is absolutely nothing to be done about it.
I walk by a condo often. The blinds are always lifted enough to see a bit inside. It's a static kind of messy that I sympathized and identified with. I saw a game console guitar, various plants in stages of death-I wanted to knock on their door and call them kin. I assumed it was a guy living alone and then one day discovered it was a couple. Annoyed the shit out of me. Not sure why.
All this hate is making me sleepy.
And I hope you resent me too. I hope there is something about me beyond you. Something you wish was innate, like my hateful attitude or my militant streak. Or my legs. Or my street fighting dog. Or my dating (and general) misfortune for its intrinsic storytelling value.
I'm a great friend to those in sorrow and a terrible friend otherwise, especially if you aren't physically close. It's not so much out of sight out of mind, more out of arm's reach and I'm a deeply lazy person. I'm also a service oriented person. If I'm not doing anything for you, I'm not sure what we're doing. Having fun doesn't count. Maybe because what I wanted figured into very little growing up, maybe because I'm just wired that way but if it's not mandatory or exigent, it's harder to make a space for it. Who knows. I don't like feeling like I'm being fit into the corner of a person's otherwise overflowing life. I struggle to understand what I'm doing there. I don't like feeling bad about myself as a result of surrounding myself with people who are doing a better job at giving life a better run for its money. I walked home in a muttering mood in the dark wishing I was the kind of person who considered the night young at 7pm and was annoyed that my cancelled trainer appointment was found time only for me to stay later at work. And I stayed at work because what else was I going to do? I hated the cold and the feeling there was no one to call, no company to be had. There is fur covered brown-eyed company currently willing me with her eyes to de-ass the couch and venture back out into the cold but aside from that...
I'm annoyed with how slow I can sometimes be. That I didn't immediately recognize the gentle brush off from SBJ. I'm annoyed any grey matter of mine is even devoting attention to the notion of continued contact with someone who seems at least on paper to be kind of terrible boyfriend material. I'm annoyed in a very macro sense at times that I'm not white because being black is such a non-starter to so many men I might otherwise talk to. I don't want to be white but let me tell you, it never ceases to sting a little to see my demographic excluded. That part of a person that wants to belong well, just wants to belong. Doesn't want to be left waiting to be picked because of something that doesn't even speak to whether you would otherwise get along. It is what it is though and truly not something to dwell on as there is absolutely nothing to be done about it.
I walk by a condo often. The blinds are always lifted enough to see a bit inside. It's a static kind of messy that I sympathized and identified with. I saw a game console guitar, various plants in stages of death-I wanted to knock on their door and call them kin. I assumed it was a guy living alone and then one day discovered it was a couple. Annoyed the shit out of me. Not sure why.
All this hate is making me sleepy.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Grateful either way
I'm a little melancholy today. I'm trying to power through it with housework and earlier even attempted looking cute as an antidote but no dice. I'm back in my pajama pants and flying the white flag. Those of you out in blogger land with someone to come home to, thank your lucky stars. How does that go, better to have and not need, than need and not have? I am reminding myself of the advantages, the unilateral decision making on things he might object to, the singular agenda, the time to myself, half the laundry, smells, and messes. I know this melancholy will pass but today I'm a little restless and sad he isn't here-if he's to come at all. It is sharply cold out and the dog has diarrhea (result of some ill-gotten gains during a routine sidewalk contraband run). I would love to snuggle into someone else's warmth and would have children with the man who took Baloo out right now. Trying, trying, trying to be grateful either way.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Being Me
I made something good happen today. I suppose I could have taken it for myself because I put the spade work into creating the opportunity but it was better suited for someone else and I was delighted to set it up for them. It feels good to set someone up to shine. To make good connections happen. Whenever my boss asks me how I did something, I usually tell him, "I'm good at what I do."
The cloud in that silver lining-tonight I'm not going to court it. There is some threshold here, between being aware and making awareness a weapon against myself. Knowing that I prefer to unearth opportunities for other people to pursue, that I like especially taking on projects that others have failed, that I like being the go-to all source trouble shooter almost as much as I resent it at times; all those things are thick ribbons of silver lining that like all things in excess, bring storms. This week was a little excessive and I know my boss knew that. He thanked me for something very elementary and simple today. He's trying. Perhaps I'm reaching and my perspective is clouded by my professional and personal affection for him but I think we've hit a good rhythm and this time next year, we'll be breaking in new people and that makes me a little sad. So I want to have fun with him these last few months and let the work fall where it may. I think my work will actually be better for it even if it's not my focus.
This lifestyle-I don't know why I chose it. So much time is spent adjusting only to hit my stride near the end. George Costanza would be proud. Always leave on a high note.
The cloud in that silver lining-tonight I'm not going to court it. There is some threshold here, between being aware and making awareness a weapon against myself. Knowing that I prefer to unearth opportunities for other people to pursue, that I like especially taking on projects that others have failed, that I like being the go-to all source trouble shooter almost as much as I resent it at times; all those things are thick ribbons of silver lining that like all things in excess, bring storms. This week was a little excessive and I know my boss knew that. He thanked me for something very elementary and simple today. He's trying. Perhaps I'm reaching and my perspective is clouded by my professional and personal affection for him but I think we've hit a good rhythm and this time next year, we'll be breaking in new people and that makes me a little sad. So I want to have fun with him these last few months and let the work fall where it may. I think my work will actually be better for it even if it's not my focus.
This lifestyle-I don't know why I chose it. So much time is spent adjusting only to hit my stride near the end. George Costanza would be proud. Always leave on a high note.
SBJ returns
Lot's of inside stuff going on in Ava-land, much of which is being raised and revealed through work. I'm just moving too quickly to do more than notice that I had a thought about something when something happened that seemed worth coming back to at some time. Typical me. Why chip away at this when I can address it in one fell swoop following a breakdown?
But the good news is SpongeBob Jesus (SBJ) is back. I wrote him a nonchalant WTF and he responded with a witty 'taking it slow.' I believe there was a line in there about blowing my mind slowly so as to avoid an "incident." Witty repartee is right up there with things I find attractive in a man. And by witty I mean silly as you will see from the excerpts below. Worth noting, the phrase "my awesome translates more powerfully in person" can be found on my profile as can the vignette about being accosted on the street by Ethan who freestyle rapped for me. It was under the category 'I'm good at' (getting strangers to freestyle rap to me about Obama and the economy). Also worth noting, SBJ came to my attention because he viewed my profile and he was holding a puppy in his picture so naturally, I checked him out. I had to be raised by suspicious parents. I would have otherwise not made it through childhood because I would have gone with anyone holding a dog.
I REALLY got their attention though when I started bustin' out my freestyle, Obama-Rap. Some people will just never get it.
Anyway...........Thank You So Much. I liked you profile too.
SBJ: Well......Shit!
What kinda pants did YOU wear that day?
What can I say? I like what I like.
But the good news is SpongeBob Jesus (SBJ) is back. I wrote him a nonchalant WTF and he responded with a witty 'taking it slow.' I believe there was a line in there about blowing my mind slowly so as to avoid an "incident." Witty repartee is right up there with things I find attractive in a man. And by witty I mean silly as you will see from the excerpts below. Worth noting, the phrase "my awesome translates more powerfully in person" can be found on my profile as can the vignette about being accosted on the street by Ethan who freestyle rapped for me. It was under the category 'I'm good at' (getting strangers to freestyle rap to me about Obama and the economy). Also worth noting, SBJ came to my attention because he viewed my profile and he was holding a puppy in his picture so naturally, I checked him out. I had to be raised by suspicious parents. I would have otherwise not made it through childhood because I would have gone with anyone holding a dog.
Ava: I liked your profile. Your Spongebob pants frighten me slightly but I'm sure it's charming in person.SBJ: So.......What you're saying is........I shouldn't have gone to that job interview right after I took that picture? Maybe THAT'S why I haven't heard back from them yet. I thought they were making all those faces because they liked it. I mean........I thought my look was kind of.......well......endearing. Ya see, the way I see it, "My Awesome Translates So Much More Powerfully In Person."
I REALLY got their attention though when I started bustin' out my freestyle, Obama-Rap. Some people will just never get it.
Anyway...........Thank You So Much. I liked you profile too.
Ava: They DID like it. They loved it. Really. They felt a man who could get his strut on rockin that look was management material. The freestyle rap--I'm not going to lie, it was a misstep, (know your audience-it was definitely a PBS crowd) but it was overall a very good interview. Your problem was that I interviewed right after you and well, like you, my awesome DOES translate powerfully in person and I was the last awesome of the day.
But hey, no hard feelings. I'm on the management track now and pretty soon I'll have the authority to bring on new team members. Play your cards right and my commas and your long ellipses can be gracing the company letterhead before you know it. Don't stop believing.
This is fun. Thank YOU.
SBJ: Well......Shit!
What kinda pants did YOU wear that day?
What can I say? I like what I like.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Paved with good intentions
Okay so maybe we got a little too excited about SpongeBob Jesus. I may have scared him off. I think in the context of the conversation we were having, it was not at all alarming to suggest my favorite baby names. He clearly feels differently about it.
I didn't really do that, it was just funny to write. I haven't really taken a week off of work either. Tomorrow for the third day in a row during my week of vacation, I am going into work. It won't even be a 3 day weekend as I am going in tomorrow to prepare for something that will happen Friday. Maybe the sinking anxious feeling from Monday wasn't an inability to relax but a premonition for how badly this attempt at gaining perspective and traction in my personal life was going to turn out.
A nugget of perspective on how I came to be this way came by way of Snake (my co-worker). I was raging, complaining about the complete lack of boundaries and how sick I was of being consulted about issues clearly outside of the scope of my job. A few minutes later, we were talking about something else and I mentioned that I had been preparing my sister's checks for deposit because left to her own devices, it just sits on the countertop. Snake noted I was 'that person' even in my family. I'm the person they depend on to do something special for their birthday, to research things, to take in siblings, to comfort my mother when she's feeling down as my father asked me to do today. Then later this evening, I recalled my father sometimes coming down to my room when I was in college to talk about the things that bothered him-often about my mom. How I ran the family finances when he was away on an extended absence, reconciling the checkbook with him weekly, how I arranged my classes in college to be able to pick up my sister from school, how I started cooking dinners when I was 12 to help out after my sister was born. I won't say those things should or shouldn't be because they just are. I just think they are useful for me to recall because if it's something I want to change, I should be patient with myself. I can't change something I've been doing since I was at least 12 in one week. I can't even decide if I want to change in one week.
So that's where we stand. No SpongeBob Jesus, work again tomorrow, pause on the introspection and housekeeping.
I didn't really do that, it was just funny to write. I haven't really taken a week off of work either. Tomorrow for the third day in a row during my week of vacation, I am going into work. It won't even be a 3 day weekend as I am going in tomorrow to prepare for something that will happen Friday. Maybe the sinking anxious feeling from Monday wasn't an inability to relax but a premonition for how badly this attempt at gaining perspective and traction in my personal life was going to turn out.
A nugget of perspective on how I came to be this way came by way of Snake (my co-worker). I was raging, complaining about the complete lack of boundaries and how sick I was of being consulted about issues clearly outside of the scope of my job. A few minutes later, we were talking about something else and I mentioned that I had been preparing my sister's checks for deposit because left to her own devices, it just sits on the countertop. Snake noted I was 'that person' even in my family. I'm the person they depend on to do something special for their birthday, to research things, to take in siblings, to comfort my mother when she's feeling down as my father asked me to do today. Then later this evening, I recalled my father sometimes coming down to my room when I was in college to talk about the things that bothered him-often about my mom. How I ran the family finances when he was away on an extended absence, reconciling the checkbook with him weekly, how I arranged my classes in college to be able to pick up my sister from school, how I started cooking dinners when I was 12 to help out after my sister was born. I won't say those things should or shouldn't be because they just are. I just think they are useful for me to recall because if it's something I want to change, I should be patient with myself. I can't change something I've been doing since I was at least 12 in one week. I can't even decide if I want to change in one week.
So that's where we stand. No SpongeBob Jesus, work again tomorrow, pause on the introspection and housekeeping.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Boys
I don't know if I believe in jinxing something but I do believe that when you feel the need to talk about a boy, it means there is more to talk about than is actually going on. I believe the big stuff is happening when there isn't a lot of conversation. One day a person is just a part of your life. No conversations about when he's going to call or what it meant when he said one thing and did another. They become a given. Those who have it simply can not appreciate it. No more than I appreciate breathing.
A long preamble to simply say I wrote a guy today that I really like. He looks like Jesus, has a kid, manages 2 pet stores, and plays the drums. He has a SpongeBob watch AND pants and has worn both in public. What can I say? I like what I like. I told him I liked his profile but his pants frightened me, he responded with great humor and wit and said he liked my profile as well. I'm not sure what that gets us but it was nice to have fun. He's already written twice tonight and that just makes me feel good. We are having a good time. Going to try not to get too far ahead of myself since it's physically impossible and a terrible strain when you try.
A rollercoaster day, happy this morning to have heard from a dear friend, welling up at lunch because I don't know how to relax, and finishing my evening with laughter courtesy of SpongeBob Jesus. Thank you actual Jesus and thank you SpongeBob Jesus for finding those ridiculous pants in an adult size and wearing them outdoors. You are so many things not on my list that I've lost count but you are funny and fun to talk with. I hope we can be at least very good friends.
A long preamble to simply say I wrote a guy today that I really like. He looks like Jesus, has a kid, manages 2 pet stores, and plays the drums. He has a SpongeBob watch AND pants and has worn both in public. What can I say? I like what I like. I told him I liked his profile but his pants frightened me, he responded with great humor and wit and said he liked my profile as well. I'm not sure what that gets us but it was nice to have fun. He's already written twice tonight and that just makes me feel good. We are having a good time. Going to try not to get too far ahead of myself since it's physically impossible and a terrible strain when you try.
A rollercoaster day, happy this morning to have heard from a dear friend, welling up at lunch because I don't know how to relax, and finishing my evening with laughter courtesy of SpongeBob Jesus. Thank you actual Jesus and thank you SpongeBob Jesus for finding those ridiculous pants in an adult size and wearing them outdoors. You are so many things not on my list that I've lost count but you are funny and fun to talk with. I hope we can be at least very good friends.
Breaking it down
So I've spent most the last 24 hours with my boss. I thought sometime during the 10 hours we were in the car, we might have that talk. The one about boundaries, or the one about how he hurt my feelings with actions that I interpreted as a manifestation of his feelings about the value of my time versus his, about icing, about please and thank you. Instead we talked about everything from rectal exams to our parents, to continuing our professional relationship by me coming out to work with him in his next assignment. So now I have whatever the least non-committal form of tentative plans to move to California next year which makes me feel good. Good enough to still possibly quit. It's one thing to leave feeling there is nothing for me here. It's another to leave in spite of a perceived opportunity. It feels stronger. Like in the movies when the jerk finally gives you the time of day and you no longer need their attention or want them. Without a bird in hand, you know you deserve and can do better. That's how I want to quit.
I've thought a lot about everything over the past few days and haven't really had any breakthroughs. There are certain truths I stumble across while considering the core angst in play-why I do the things I do, why I feel the things I feel. They give me vocabulary but don't really help me change. I am a student of introspection and I think the practice helps me empathize with other people's humanity, with their 'why' and how wildly different 'what' can stem from the same 'why.' But using introspection as a tool to shape my life...I'm beginning to consider a semester abroad in the school of 'fake it till you make it.' I keep waiting for my desires to align with my motivation and discipline and I keep coming up short. I marvel at what others accomplish and assume they want to do everything they are doing. Few are fortunate enough to have most of their time and life spent pursuing whatever form their bliss takes. What's good for us doesn't often feel good to do.
On the flip side, why am I so hard on myself? I know that no one has the life I envy. The life I envy doesn't exist. Why knowing that doesn't really penetrate that part of me that likes to keep coals at the ready to dump upon my head is probably it's own introspective post. This post has taken several days and I'm back from the Halloween party with my boss and his wife. I had a good time considering that I don't find anything about parties like that appealing. It was cute to watch him with his wife and their playfulness with one another. I think I'm officially unhealthily obsessed. It's too easy to want to be helpful to him. And you know, at their core, people don't respect you when you consistently put the needs of others above your own. Perhaps because the world becomes your parasite. I don't know. I just know I was anxious about being away from work today and I worked over half the day on a week I am not supposed to be in at all. I just wish it were easier for me to relax. I only know how to work hard and I'm not even sure I really work hard so I guess I don't feel like I deserve to play.
I've thought a lot about everything over the past few days and haven't really had any breakthroughs. There are certain truths I stumble across while considering the core angst in play-why I do the things I do, why I feel the things I feel. They give me vocabulary but don't really help me change. I am a student of introspection and I think the practice helps me empathize with other people's humanity, with their 'why' and how wildly different 'what' can stem from the same 'why.' But using introspection as a tool to shape my life...I'm beginning to consider a semester abroad in the school of 'fake it till you make it.' I keep waiting for my desires to align with my motivation and discipline and I keep coming up short. I marvel at what others accomplish and assume they want to do everything they are doing. Few are fortunate enough to have most of their time and life spent pursuing whatever form their bliss takes. What's good for us doesn't often feel good to do.
On the flip side, why am I so hard on myself? I know that no one has the life I envy. The life I envy doesn't exist. Why knowing that doesn't really penetrate that part of me that likes to keep coals at the ready to dump upon my head is probably it's own introspective post. This post has taken several days and I'm back from the Halloween party with my boss and his wife. I had a good time considering that I don't find anything about parties like that appealing. It was cute to watch him with his wife and their playfulness with one another. I think I'm officially unhealthily obsessed. It's too easy to want to be helpful to him. And you know, at their core, people don't respect you when you consistently put the needs of others above your own. Perhaps because the world becomes your parasite. I don't know. I just know I was anxious about being away from work today and I worked over half the day on a week I am not supposed to be in at all. I just wish it were easier for me to relax. I only know how to work hard and I'm not even sure I really work hard so I guess I don't feel like I deserve to play.
Interlude
While I work on denser chewier posts, a little something to nosh on from my (non) dating adventures. One should note that the last 'conversation' I had with this guy, I told him I disliked hyperbole after he described his day as phenomenal. I didn't hear from him for 3 weeks after that and thought the coast was clear. This is what I get for thinking. I wish I had got married young to my first love and didn't have to deal with this world. It gets harder as time goes on to imagine ever meeting someone. But if nothing else, it is blog fodder.
Him: Whats up sexy how have you been?
Ava: Hey there. What's new with you? Just scrambling to figure out a quick Halloween costume before Saturday.
Him: :) Ive been good just workin hard....costume u say hmmm hope its somethin sexy....We should do dinner sometime
Ava: I'm aiming for creative over sexy. Kind of annoys me that even if you want something basic, like little red riding hood, it comes only in a hooker-length skirt.
Thanks for the dinner invite. I think we should talk more so neither one of us has to fake an illness or a death while we are out if we don't click. :-)
Him: So how was your weekend sunshine....So do you have any pet peeves?
Him: Whats up sexy how have you been?
Ava: Hey there. What's new with you? Just scrambling to figure out a quick Halloween costume before Saturday.
Him: :) Ive been good just workin hard....costume u say hmmm hope its somethin sexy....We should do dinner sometime
Ava: I'm aiming for creative over sexy. Kind of annoys me that even if you want something basic, like little red riding hood, it comes only in a hooker-length skirt.
Thanks for the dinner invite. I think we should talk more so neither one of us has to fake an illness or a death while we are out if we don't click. :-)
Him: So how was your weekend sunshine....So do you have any pet peeves?
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