Oh, hello!! I won’t even bother about the mess. I have a cleaner coming in. Help yourself to some spaghetti and meatballs.
I’m not dead. And if you have stopped by while I have been gone, THANK YOU! I don’t know why you would do that, but I appreciate it.
So, where have I been? And why haven’t I written?
I’ll start with the latter. I haven’t written because I haven’t felt like I had anything to say. Maybe I’ve been thinking about it too much. Or not enough. Then, the longer I went without posting, the more I didn’t want to post. Like when you don’t call someone for a while, and then the longer you wait to call, it gets more awkward? Yeah, that’s how I feel. Or felt. Or feel. I don’t know. I’ll see how it goes.
Where have I been? Right here. I haven’t “been” anywhere. I had 2 weeks off in August and had great huge plans to post every day. Then my friend Moo and her husband came up from Texas for the weekend. It was nice to actually meet her IRL. She’s as lovely as I knew she would be.
Then work has been… work. The Gas ‘n Sip can be very stressful and when I think about the possibility of maybe not having a job in a few months, it makes it worse. Of course, that is mostly in my own mind that I won’t have a job. I have been given no indication that that is the case.
Then I decided that there has to be more to life that what I am doing. Work. Life. Emotions. All of it. I decided that I need to find a job in other state or country. But am I doing it for adventure or am I trying to run away from my life? I think I need to find that out before I do anything. OR, as I type that, a new question. Is the theory that I need to figure things out before I do anything, part of what is making me stuck? A conundrum, I think.
I’ve been looking at other blogs and books and seeing the steps others are taking to make changes. I have such admiration for all the steps and hard things these people have taken and worked through to get better. To make their lives better. I want to do that. I really want to do that too. But I am afraid. Still.
The only thing I have sort of kept current with is Twitter. But even that has been at a lesser level. I think some of my connections on there have been real. But others? Nah. It’s not like I feel like I can just pick up the phone and call any of them. It all goes back to that not wanting to be a burden thing.
So, there you have it. My first post back after my sabbatical. I hope to get better. Soon.
xo
Oh, hello! Come in and have a glass of wine. The non-alcoholic kind is to the right.
So, a week or so ago, K2Kid sent me a link to an article about this. The challenge? Pick 6 items of clothing and wear only those for 1 month.
Since then, I have heard and read a lot about it. There are other blogs about it and news programs are talking about it. I guess I am falling in line to write about it too.
K2Kid said she wanted to try it. I was originally kind of excited about it too. What to pick? What accessories to pick? I think it would be kind of fun. While the creators of this challenge don’t necessarily discuss their philosophy, I have the belief that it’s to demonstrate that no one else really cares what you wear, so why put so much thought, energy, and money into your wardrobe. In the grand scheme of things, it’s your own fabulousness that draws people to you, not your clothes. Apparently.
I get that. I really do. However, the more I think about it, the more I think that I don’t really dress for others. I *like* wearing pretty things. It makes *me* feel good. I feel more confident if I have on something I consider pretty or classy. Except for 1 pair of shoes, I don’t really care if anyone else like what I have on. And since I have now debuted those shoes to the world, I don’t think those are that big of a deal anymore, either.
Additionally, early this year, I declared that this was the year I was going to embrace my girly-ness. I don’t think I am manly, but I wanted to wear more dresses, skirts, high-heels, etc. And if I am supposed to pick only 6 items, how can I be girly? K2Kid thought I would have it easier with the dresses, but I don’t know that it’s true. Fewer mix-n-match options, you know?
All that said, I think I am going to give it a try in August. I think I know which 6 items I will pick. And I’m confident that I can do it. I’ll keep you posted on my success.
What about you? Could you pick 6 or less and make it through a month?
Oh, hello! Grab a yogurt. We’re going to watch the Burn Notice I have on DVR.
I need an opinion, please. Because I’ve been trying something new, and I get strange reactions and I don’t know if I should continue.
We all like to think we are fabulous, right? Usually, we take time in the morning to make sure our hair/face/clothes look nice/clean/put together. Maybe not on weekends, but generally speaking, when we present ourselves to the world, we do it with our best face forward.
Amirite?
So, in the interest of spreading happy in my immediate world, I have started telling people that they look nice or whatever. I mean, I don’t chase some stranger down in the aisle at the grocery store. Because, well, that would probably get me arrested. But if I have an interaction with someone, I’ll point out that I like their outfit or whatever.
The reactions I have been getting, though, have shocked me. I would say that a majority of people look at me as if I am crazy. Or that I’m mocking them. Or just generally have a negative reaction. I don’t get that. If someone came to me and said “You are fabulous!” I would probably blush, giggle, say thank you, and want to hug them.
So, their reactions are very confusing to me. And this is where I need an opinion. Should I just think that they are fabulous, but keep my mouth shut? Should I just be swept along with the current of “there is so much negativity in the world, just go with it” mentality? That makes me sad.
Someone told me last week that she thinks I always dress so nicely. That comment stayed with me all day. It made me smile. Why don’t more people want that feeling?
What would you do?
Oh, hello!! I’m just making coffee. Want some?
So, it seems that there is good news just popping up all over the place today! Not for me, yet, but as much as I hate to admit it, it’s not *always* about me. Apparently.
Tall dude at work got a new chair. Which may not seem like a big deal, but trust me, it is.
Mr. Russia sold an old iPhone for almost $200 – 1st generation. 4 years old. Holy cr@p!
Greg’s fiance got her new ring – the old one had much wrong with it (Thanks, Jared) so they had to get her a new one.
It’s possible that someone will be tendering his resignation here, in order to pursue what sounds like a very exciting new opportunity.
And one of my besties has a new gig that I can’t talk about, but it’s VERY exciting!!
And through it all, I’m celebrating with them. The best part for me – because I’ll make it about me if it kills me – is that where I normally would have a pang of jealousy and would think “When will it be *my* turn??”… That didn’t happen. I’m truly thrilled for each of these people and the wonderful events in their lives.
It’s so nice to hear the good stuff. There’s too much focus on the bad stuff in this world. So, today, I’m asking you to celebrate the good stuff – even the small things like a new chair. Let’s make the small wins more important for a while.
YAY for everyone!!!
Oh, hello! Come in. Have some tea. And I finally filled the candy dish again, so have at it.
I’m pretty sure that I have stated on here before that I SUCK at managing money. (I would go back and put a link to a previous post, but I’m too lazy. So, you can either look back, or just take my word for it. I suck.)
I have a few theories as to why it is that I suck at it so much, but I won’t go into those here. Suffice it to say, if I have cash in my wallet (or tossed in the bottom of the suitcase I call a purse), I will spend it. On what? It doesn’t matter. Anything. Everything. I wouldn’t even be able to tell you what 2 days later. It’s really pathetic.
About a year ago, I cut up my credit cards. It was traumatic and scary and hard and horrible and the best thing I have done for myself in a long time. (I still had balances, mind, but at least I could no longer ADD to those balances. Just go with it.) Honestly, if I had to do it again, I would. But I would keep one card. Because it is really hard to live in this world with no plastic.
What that little exercise in self-control has taught me is that if I don’t have the $ in my checking account, I can’t buy it. Whatever “it” is – food, entertainment, whatever. I am not always successful at sticking to that rule, and the amount of money I have actually given to my bank in the form of overdraft fees is staggering, but I am learning and getting better at it as I go.
So, why this story of woe on a Friday morning? Well, last week, I think it was Wednesday, I discovered that, yet again, I was overdrawn. And I had $1 in my wallet. Literally, one dollar. Oh. My. Goat. What was I going to do?? I couldn’t buy a coffee, or lunch, or stamps, or groceries. I had 10 days before I got paid again. Have I mentioned how much I suck at money? S.U.C.K.
With no choice, I had to eat whatever I had in the cupboard/fridge/freezer. I had to resort to the free coffee at work (with that powdered creamer crap) (which, BTW, GROSS) or nothing at all. There were no snacks, no nips to the cafe downstairs for a muffin or scone or salad. So much for my new goal of eating more healthful foods and cutting down on carbs and starches. I lived with a hunger headache and a rumbly tum. I dug deep into the bottom of my suitcase purse for spare change for an emergency Hershey bar yesterday.
But I made it. Today, I was able to walk into the grocery store across the street to get something for breakfast and know that I had the cash to pay for it. It was exciting. But, do you know what? I didn’t want most of it. I had a new perspective on the overwhelming number of options. I still have to go grocery shopping tonight, to stock up on food, and to replenish my larder, but I think my choices will be much more carefully made.
There were some good things to come out of this inadvertent experiment:
- I was finally able to clear out all the stuff in my freezer/cupboards that I had purchased, but didn’t feel like eating. You know the stuff. Pasta, rice, popcorn, whatever leftovers you may have frozen to “have later”. CLEAN START!
- I lost 9 pounds. That, right there, should tell you something. Clearly, I was eating too much.
- I learned that I really didn’t have to eat if I was bored/sad/depressed/stressed/happy. I could really only eat 3 meals a day. No snacking. And? I DIDN’T DIE. I didn’t (couldn’t) use food to mask those feelings. I ate when I was really hungry (read: dizzy and headachey), and that was it.
- I learned that I didn’t need to eat so much. I had to eat smaller portions in order to make the food last longer.
- I learned that powdered coffee creamer? Just as gross as I remembered.
- I learned that I don’t *have* to have dessert. But I just wanna.
- I learned that I really can live, and do it maybe not well, but sufficiently, without spending every last cent. It’s okay to NOT go to the drug store and buy magazines or whatever. Or to turn on the Kindle and download the 36 books that I have seen recommended lately that I now want to read. I can read the books I already have (that I haven’t read before) and discover “Oh, yeah! That’s why I bought that!”
- Oh, yeah, and I’m all set with carbs and starches for a while. Thanks.
So, I know this post started out about money and ended up about food. But, I found that the lack of one really impacts the other. This past 10 days has been hard and while I wouldn’t recommend anyone letting themselves get into the position I did, I would recommend trying to not spend money for a week on those little things that seem to so easily add up. And also, go through your stores of prepackaged foodstuffs and use that stuff up. Start over without all that stuff that really isn’t good for you. Maybe it would be better to just toss it, or to just NOT buy it in the first place, but you know what I mean.
And that cup of Chibani yogurt this morning? SO. FREAKING. GOOD!!!!! (If you haven’t tried this stuff? Holy crap. The best Greek yogurt out there, IMO. Seriously.) And it filled me up. I never thought I could be satisfied with just a yogurt, but I am. (If someone put a plate of bacon and eggs in front of my, I wouldn’t say no, mind. But I’m comfortable with just the yogurt for now.) This may be the start of something big for me. *fingers crossed*
Oh, and that dollar in my wallet? Yep. I still have it.
Oh, hello! Come in and have coffee and a sticky bun.
Sorry for the title. I may have been channeling Brigit Jones…
I say that this is more for the single folks than for people who have a partner, but perhaps it’s just because that is the perspective from which I am writing. IDK. You can judge for yourself.
Most of the time, I consider myself self-sufficient. I guess I have to be, since there isn’t anyone there to do “it” for me. I am responsible for my bills, for my house, and the maintenance of that house, my cats and their upkeep, and on and on. And most of the time, I am fine with that. I have to be, of course, but it really is true.
Then there are other times… I get sick to death of cleaning the house, mowing the lawn, shovelling the snow, doing laundry, etc. But, in my case, there is no one there to pick up the slack for me. This is where the smug marrieds have an advantage. They can look at their partner and ask/beg/nag for help, and there is a probability that the partner will do it, even if it’s not done the way they would want.
But, here is where I feel I need to clarify. I *know* that being part of a couple does not mean that each member of the pair is not self-sufficient. They are (usually).
I’m not saying this very well. But in my usual mode of just putting things out there without spending too much time picking nits, here it is.
My theory is that it is harder for singletons to ask for help than it is for the smug marrieds. And why do I think that? Because I live it. Every. Damn. Day. My feeling is that when I ask someone for help, it becomes another item on their “To Do” list. The people I could ask for help have their own lives and problems and chores and bills. And while that is also true of coupledom, at least the person you might ask for help ALSO has a vested interest in your happiness. They aren’t solely responsible for it, of course, but they see you every day and want what you want. Hopefully.
So, when is it okay to ask for help? I’ve never been clear on when it is appropriate. There have been times in the winter, when I’m out moving snow, that I have just said F*CK IT, and flagged down a passing truck with a plow and begged them to clear my driveway. But then, I am throwing money at them, so it is win-win.
Overall, I suck at asking for help. I get frustrated, then overwhelmed, then turn into a sobbing mess, and come out the other side a little bruised, but moving forward anyway. I could maybe avoid all that by asking for help sooner, but how do I ask without it being an imposition? Without becoming a nuisance? Without appearing weak? Without feeling indebted?
What do *you* do? Do you ask for help? How did you learn to do it or is it something that comes naturally?
Help!
Oh, hello! Come on in and have some iced tea.
There’s something wrong with me. Mentally. I’m convinced of it. Someone here at the Gas ‘n Sip just invited me to his child’s first birthday party. I almost started crying.
This is strange for many reasons.
- Crying? Really?
- I don’t enjoy children, typically.
- I don’t enjoy socializing with circus work folks, typically.
- Crying? Really?
Thank goat I decided to take this Friday and Monday off. Evidently, I need a nap. Or, you know, a smack in the head.
Oh, hello! Come on in and have a taste of blueberry pie. But watch the stains on your teeth. I have extra toothbrushes for those who need them.
*****
A quick hello to Mr. Farty! I think you commented for the first time. I will be honest – I SQUEEd when I saw your comment… including the fart. Welcome to my very neglected blog.
*****
I haven’t been around much. Not for any major or catastrophic reason though. More as a function of the fact that I really didn’t think I had anything to say. And if *I* think I’m boring, I certainly don’t want to subject *you* to that. You’re welcome.
*****
K2Kid and I went to see SATC2. Oh. Mah. Gah. If you haven’t seen it yet, and are thinking about it, or thinking about waiting to get it on DVD, don’t even bother. It was that bad. It was forced, and contrived, and it tried WAY to hard. The ladies have NOT aged well… or at least the cameras made it seem that way. Samantha is still slutty, Charlotte is still a goody-goody, Carrie is still nagging Big, and Miranda is still icky. This isn’t even a fun, rainy-day movie that you could pop in for something mindless. Save yourself $9 and 2 hours and watch the first one again. Or watch Mamma Mia. At least those two were fun. And mindless.
*****
My seeming year of reading memoirs continues with “The Year We Disappeared” by Cylin Busby and John Busby. It’s the story of John and what happens to him and his family after he gets shot in the face on the way to work one night. He was a cop on Cape Cod. The chapters switch back and forth from John to Cylin, who is John’s daughter. She was 9 at the time this happened. Her chapters are written from the perspective of her 9-year-old self. His chapters are told from his perspective at that time. The shooting occurred in 1979. Overall, it was an interesting story and it read very fast. I would have liked to hear more about the wrong cops who failed to properly investigate, but I guess that might be another story. I’d give it 7 out of 10.
*****
I was going to do a post about how this year I have decided to embrace my “girliness”. You know, more dresses, matching unmentionables, high heels, better makeup, blah blah blah. But then the week that causes me to HATE being a girl happened and blew that out the window. Maybe another time.
*****
I have been participating in an online class workshop exercise something that is meant to encourage participants to take more time to rest and play and generally enjoy life. The purpose is to be kinder to yourself and ultimately get more out of your life. What have I learned so far? I have no idea how to play.
*****
What else….. I don’t know. I guess that is it for…. OH!
*****
I’ve been thinking about NaNoWriMo. I only found out about it last year in the last week of October, so I had no time to prepare. It’s a writing event, designed to encourage free writing of quantity over quality. 50,000 words in 30 days with no editing. It’s a wonderful way to stretch your creative muscles and write a novel in a month. I signed up last year and only made it to about 15,000 words. And what started out as a “novel”, with a “plot line”, devolved into more of an online journal. And it was BAD!
So I’ve been thinking about it for this year. And I thought I would start to develop an outline or at least characters on which to build a story. Yeah. I think any writing creativity has left the building. I know I should “write what I know” but if I am to base a story on my life? SNOOZE FEST!!! I will likely be skipping the even this year. But I will be there cheering on others who I know are participating!!
*****
Okay. That’s it. I’m done. Have a lovely day.
Oh, hello! Come in for some cornbread. It’s still warm.
Anyone who talks to me knows that I love me some Twitter. I spend way too much time on it and tweet about anything. Well, maybe not anything. I don’t reveal anything about farting or pooping or my (lack of) sex life. I think Twitter is fun and a good distraction.
What I don’t like, and has really been irritating me lately, is when other Tweeters bitch/moan/complain about, or generally belittle their parents/spouse/kids. I get that there are frustrations and people need a place to vent. But I don’t know if Twitter is an appropriate forum for that. In my opinion, talking about people you love in that way, in such a public forum, shows an enormous lack of respect, both for them and for yourself. Actually, talking about them in that manner in any forum is disrespectful. I can see venting to your friends when necessary. We need to be able to release frustrations, but some of what I’ve seen on Twitter is beyond venting. It makes me extremely uncomfortable.
Also what I’ve seen is people tweeting about REALLY intimate things. Beyond farting and pooping. (Hee… “pooping” is a funny word!) I don’t know that I need or want to hear about your sex lives and who (or what) you are hooking up with or anything else along those lines. Again, I think there is a time and a place for that, and a public forum like Twitter, in my opinion, isn’t it.
And finally, the cussing! Don’t get me wrong – I can and do cuss with the best of them. I’m not necessarily proud of that, and I’m conscious of it, but that’s what it is. I also try to be aware of my audience. If I don’t know how people feel about swearing, I try to keep my mouth in check. People on Twitter? Not so much. And if it offends even me? It’s got to be pretty extreme.
So, given all this, you are probably asking: If you don’t like all this stuff about Twitter, why the heck do you stay on it? Well, the above “irritants” don’t happen all the time. And the people who post the things that irritate me don’t post things like that all the time. Much of the time these tweeters are funny and clever and nice.
What’s a girl to do? Do I give up Twitter to avoid this type of tweet? Do I unfollow them to avoid seeing them? What is the protocol? If I unfollow them, they will reciprocate. Do I care? Do I just accept that people talk badly about people they love and ignore it? Do I only read the tweets that mention me? Do I point out to them when it happens?
What would you do? What have you done? How do you handle these situations? What is the appropriate Twitter etiquette? I’d love to hear your ideas.
Oh, hello! Welcome. Come and have some beef stew.
A big Mag and Moo welcome to Fiona! HI! *waving*
So, last night, I was in that really deep sleep where waking up feels like you are swimming to the surface through melted Nutella. (Just go with it. I’m hungry.) (But… HOW GOOD WOULD THAT BE? Melted Nutella?? I’m going to have to try that now.)
Anyway. You know the kind of sleep I mean. Well, last night, as I swam to the surface, I thought I heard a very angry baby crying. I was thinking, oh, someone is so not happy. They brought the child outside. But something didn’t sound quite right. The baby’s cry didn’t have that sort of inhale pause.
So I realized it was a cat. Normally, the Wonder Twins each take up a post at the foot of my bed, like matching gargoyles. They keep me safe at night. I start to think that it is one of the Wonder Twins. OMG. What if I left the inside door to the garage open and one of them is hurt!?! I felt around with my feet and felt the 2 solid lumps. Whew.
The crying was outside. And it wasn’t just crying. It was real-live horrific screaming and crying. The poor cat had to have been terribly hurt. Just crying and screaming and wailing. So loud. So forlorn. My heart was breaking. I thought I should get up and go see if I could find the poor little nugget. But, really. What would I do then?
The crying stopped. Whew. But no. Whatever had done the damage came back. There was one final loud cry. Then everything was quiet.
I have no idea what became of the little critter. Or what set the whole thing off.
But I do know that hearing that noise that reached into my head and heart is something I hope to never hear again. It was so tragic.
I get that wild things act like wild things and survival of the fittest and all that. But, JMJ. I gave each of the Wonder Twins an extra hard hug and extra smooch before going back to sleep. And then again before I left for work this morning. I know they sit in the window during the day and watch the world go by. And they might even want to go outside. But last night confirmed to me that having them inside, and spoiling them rotten, is the right decision. I can’t imagine one of them getting killed by something bigger and meaner and never really knowing what happened. Or having them come home, all skun up (skun? It’s a word.) (Yeah huh!) from fighting back. It would break my heart every day. I adopted them to love them.
And I hope to keep doing that for a long, long time.
RIP little wild nugget. I’m sorry it was such a painful death. 😦
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