Oh, hello! Come on in. Coffee is on, and cereal is on the counter.
Yesterday, I complained about being in a snit, for which I didn’t know the cause. I think I may have figured it out.
Every time there is some huge tragedy in the world – the tsunami, Katrina, the earthquake – I start thinking about how small my personal world is, and how significant I feel in it. The fact that I have no power in one half of my house since Saturday (I know, how random, right??) really seems so stupid to worry about. Coming into the Gas ‘n Sip everyday to do these *really* important projects that will enable our customers to see a particular shade of green consistently across all the pages of the website seems so trivial.
I don’t typically watch the news (I think I may have mentioned this before) because it depresses me. So much killing and violence and hatred and sadness in the world. I am definitely one who absorbs others’ problems thinking I can help. (Excuse me while I walk on water for a minute…)
I’m back… >_<
Anyhoo, Haiti. I think this is the source of my latest snit. I have watched an inordinate (for me) amount of coverage of this horrible tragedy, and it breaks my heart over and over. These people who are being rescued, now 2 weeks later, are so strong and brave. But what do they have now? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It’s wonderful that people are donating money, clothing, first aid, food, but they have lost everything. The poor children, who are now orphans, can’t even be adopted now because of all the human traffickers who want to cause harm. So sad.
I look at this story, and I look at my life, and I think – This is it? This is what I’m contributing to the world? Consistent green coloring? And so the snit takes hold. Now, don’t get me wrong, I have no idea what I could do if I were able to go to Haiti to help. My life really is sheltered and I’m sure I would freak out at the loss and the poverty. And really, working at the Gas ‘n Sip hasn’t prepared me for any kind of life saving, aid giving work. But there has to be something more. There has to be.
I know I could volunteer in my community and help that way; starting locally is a good first step. Of course, then I would have to face my laziness. Then seeing the need so close to home and how they need so much and I’m complaining about having too many clothes. Oy. It really is a vicious circle. I really do drive myself crazy.
So, I just have to turn off the news again, and let my feathers get settled a little, and this snit will be history. Until the next tragedy.
But in the meantime, I can look for ways to “give back” close to home. Maybe that will mitigate the next one.
Oh, hello! Help yourself to coffee.
Last May, I shredded my credit cards. I still have balances, but I now have no plastic. Well, other than my debit card. Yay for me, but OMG, do you have any idea how difficult it is to live these days with no credit card?
Why did I do that? It really had become not a choice, but a necessity. For the past several years before I took this drastic step, I had come to rely on my plastic in a really irresponsible way. In fact, I was living well beyond my means and had felt myself sinking and sinking. It got scary. So, now, almost a year later, I am sucking it up, buying only what I can pay for out of my checking account, and paying down my debt.
Looking back, I think I have been a “spender” for as long as I can remember. I am definitely not a saver. I wish I was, but I like pretty things and shopping used to make me feel better. I’m sure I could come up with some deep psychological explanation about my childhood, and blaming my parents, and the mailman, but guess what? It’s my fault. I can’t blame anyone but myself for being in the situation I now find myself. I wanted to have the nice stuff and all the clothes and blah blah blah. I’m sure it made me feel better to have people comment on the nice bag or blouse or shoes.
So finally, in May 2009, after I hit a fabulous sale at Cole-Haan for my birthday – I got a $400 purse for $59! (I love coupons!) – I went home, plugged in my shredder, and bzzzzzzzzzzzz, my cards were gone. I was sad and scared and excited and freaked all at the same time. What do I do now?? Again, I needed to suck it up and grow up.
So that is what I have done. I called the credit card companies, told them to close my accounts, negotiated a lower rate, and have picked away at the balances. A few have been paid off already. (YAY!) A few will take longer. Either way, my goal is to be debt free by this time next year.
How am I doing that? I am selling my stuff. On eBay. On Amazon. To anyone who wants to buy it. No, I’m not getting nearly what I paid for it, but selling stuff is doing a few things for me. It is bringing in some money, while at the same time, thinning out all the “stuff” I have in my house. As much as I would like to think otherwise, I was a really materialistic person before. ( I say before, because now, I can’t buy anything! hee hee). Some of the stuff I have let go has made me sad to part with. Some of it had really good memories or a story attached to it. Other stuff? Seeya! Good riddance. What the heck was I thinking.
Would I change something if I had to do it again? Would I do it again? Of course, hindsight what it is, I wouldn’t have gotten myself into this situation to begin with. But, yes, I’m glad I shredded my cards. I find myself thinking about each purchase now – is this something I *need* or want? Is it something I absolutely love? Will it improve my life? Will it be something I will have/use/love 3- or 6- or 12-months from now? This sort of screening process has really cut down on impulse shopping. I can actually go into Target now without coming out with bags full of stuff that I “had to have”. I get what I need, and move on. It’s nice.
What would I change? I would actually keep one card, for emergencies. Or travel. Recently, my job responsibilities have changed and I need to travel and that involved booking plane tickets and hotel rooms. One would think that the Gas ‘n Sip would give corporate cards for those who need to travel, but that’s not the case. We have to use our own, then get reimbursed. And, while it may not be an issue for some, I don’t typically keep $1,000+ in my checking account on the off-chance that I might need to go somewhere. It has made for a couple of awkward phone calls. So I wish I had kept 1 card for that type of thing. But otherwise? It’s nice to not dread checking the mail. Or to leave a store and think “Well, okay, how am I going to pay for that when the bill comes??”
Growing up is hard! Oh, and by the way. The purse I bought myself at Cole-Haan last year? I still have it, still use it, still love it. It’s been the only one I have used, mostly, for almost a year. So that was a great $59 I spent! \o/
Oh, hello! Just tea today. I hope you don’t mind.
I started today with a plan for a post about how I don’t think I know how to have fun anymore, and to be all introspective and stuff. But, the joke was on me.
I woke up with a headache, but didn’t think too much about it, because I wake up EVERY day with a headache. So, you know. Whatever. I’ll get ready and go to work. When I get there, the leg jiggler is there “rocking” out to some random 80s tune on his iPod speakers. Kill me. The headache is getting worse, and that shit isn’t helping.
Once he knows I’m there, he decides to chat. A lot. About nothing. He’s already had 2 Mountain Dews by that time, and so he was on a caffeine buzz. Super. The head is pounding now. Full fledged migraine pulling into the station.
He finally goes away long enough so I can do something before our one-on-one meeting. You see, we have to have a meeting to further discuss what’s going on at the Gas ‘n Stuff. Because, even though we just merged with another company, they now want to feck up our department and move everyone to new jobs and new managers. (The good news: I soon won’t be reporting to the leg jiggler. The bad news: the new manager? unknown. And the job has not been posted yet.) So we’re meeting, and he’s being his usual self – you know the type of manager who asks you if you have questions, but when you do ask, they start in (again) talking all about themselves? Yeah. That’s him. So eventually, he gets around to criticizing my character again. (Not a constructive criticism, either. More of a “Yeah, I don’t care if you are 42 and this is how you’ve been for that long. Could you change everything about yourself? Because it doesn’t match what I think you should be. It has nothing to do with how you do your job – that’s fine. It’s just your personality. Thanks. That would help me out a lot.”) Cue the ugly cry. Super.
That finally ends, I go to my next meeting – on the phone, thankfully. Then I leave to take a migraine pill and nap because I can’t take it any more. I’m home, napping. Thing one is on my tum, thing two is right up against me. All napping. Lovely. The phone rings. It’s a head hunter. (YAY!) He wants my help to find SOMEONE ELSE FOR A POSITION FOR WHICH HE KNOWS I’M NOT QUALIFIED. AYFKM? You don’t have a job for me??? Of course you don’t. That might salvage the day.
So here I sit. The head is a little better. I still have to report to the leg jiggler until they hire someone new – very likely months away. I forgot to take my contacts out for my nap. And a head hunter DOESN’T want to hire me.
I think it’s official. I became Thursday’s bitch. I think I’ll go back to bed.
Oh, hello. Have some tea and graham crackers.
Have you ever given someone advice about their life or how they are living it – whether invited to or not? (If you said no, you are a big giant liar. *grin*) I did this weekend and it got me thinking.
A friend had made a statement that I interpreted to mean that while she currently was in a very happy place in her life, she was holding back celebrating it out of fear. The way I understood the situation, she was either afraid of being happy because she has other friends who are struggling and didn’t want them to think she was rubbing it in; OR she was afraid because she has other friends who celebrated their happiness and it ended up going away.
What the hell do I know? Who am I? I was able to work myself up into a snit to tell her that she needed to be thrilled with her happiness and to celebrate or keep it quiet as she sees fit based on her own feelings, not based on others’ experiences.
Again – what the hell do I know?? I’m so consumed in my own brain, and my own thoughts, that looking back, I recognize I do EXACTLY what I told my friend not to do. It is so easy to give advice to others. I suppose it has something to do with an objective view of a situation. Or fresh eyes. Or it could have to do with being really, really meddlesome.
I’m pretty sure I fall into the meddlesome category. I’m not asked for advice, but I readily provide it. I’d like to think that I might have some nugget of wisdom to impart on occasion, but realistically I either need to just STFU or spend a little time cleaning my own house, so to speak. I need to quiet some of those nagging voices in my brain, the pointless nattering, the over-thinking of EVERYTHING.
I know it won’t be easy. But it’s necessary. And, who knows? Perhaps soon, I, too, will have something joyous to share. (Or not.)
Oh, hello! Come in and have some tea.
Yesterday, I woke up feeling like something wonderful was going to happen to me yesterday. (I know – MONDAY!!) I didn’t know what was going to happen, or when, or even where this feeling came from, but I just knew that it would be before the end of the day.
Nothing wonderful happened. That I know of. I think whatever it was just got caught in traffic, or delayed in the mail. It’s coming, but I just don’t know when. Although, someone also suggested that something wonderful DID happen, I just don’t know it yet. Like whatever it is set in motion something that will lead to the wonderful thing. You know, like the principle that a butterfly flitting in one region can cause a tsunami in another region. I kind of like the idea that yesterday, a butterfly set in motion something for me.
I’ll keep you posted.
Oh, hello! Come on in and have a glass of port with me.
FFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK.
Back Story: One of the very few perks of working at the Gas ‘n Sip is that sometimes we get tickets. To sporting events. For those of you who follow me on Twitter, you know that we had tickets to the Boston Red Sox for last evening. Now, I am, admittedly, not the biggest fan of baseball. It’s fairly boring. But, since I NEVER get offered a ticket, I thought it would be fun. There were 4 tickets. I got 1 and the other 3 went to Frank, the napkin dispenser filler, and Aubrey and Wesley, the co-chief gas Pumpers. Yep, me and the 3 boys get to hit the road for some baseball.
I rode down with Frank. He drives one of those froofy cars, FAST! I didn’t know that froofies went 80+ and got so close to the cars in front of them. 😮 What an exciting ride down. The Pumpers took Wesley’s car.
After that exciting ride, Frank and I stopped for 2 of these:
mmmm, beer
We finally go into the stadium, and these are our seats:
pavillion seats, first base line
Aubrey and Wesley were already there. Our seats? Rocked. We had servers. We didn’t need to schlep to the vendors. They came to us. I tried to take a picture of the menu, but it didn’t come out clearly. I could have gotten a lobster roll. Yum, right? $18.20. No. That is not a typo. Hotdog? $6.10. Energy drink? $8.10. French fries? $6.10. Um, no thank you. I’m good.
Here are some pictures of Fenway:
The Outfield
The Green Monster
The maintenance guys making the infield pretty again for the players
And here is a picture of the shmev in front of us with a truly tragic hat:
No, this isn’t one of the Pumpers. But it is truly tragic.
So, why am I freaking out? Well, the Pumpers found my blog. Wesley said, “That’s what you get for putting stuff out on the Interwebs”. Yeah, there is a HUGE difference between virtual strangers reading my deep dark secrets, and boys I see EVERY FRIGGIN DAY reading it. They don’t need to see when I write a post about me being lonely. They don’t need to hear me bitch about the Leg Jiggler – they KNOW the Leg Jiggler!!!
I’ve made a deal with them. They promise secrecy in exchange for free Blue Raspberry Slurpees. I countered that if the Slurpee machine really does go away, I would keep them in orange cheese-flavored food product if I move to the Nacho Bar or the Wiener Wheel. Deal.
So, you phuckers. I know you are reading this, and you know who you are. If I get back to the Gas ‘n Sip on Monday, and there is any indication of my having a blog and/or working at the G’nS, I will grab you both by the short hairs and make you scream like 12-year-old girls. MMMMKAY? (But if you made me a new, slammin’ Gas ‘n Sip name tag, I’d like to see it, please. 🙂 ) (Oh, and my girl Lesley, over at Um…What? would like one too, please.)
kthxbai
Oh, hello! Have some tea. And sugar cookies.
I think it would be an affront to feet everywhere if I said what I have are feet. Or soles of my feet. No, I think it’s safe to qualify what I have as hooves.
These? are my feet. I’ll wait while you go hurl…
Back when I pretended to have money, I would get myself a pedicure every 2 weeks. It kept them soft and pretty. Then, when I realized that I really didn’t have money, that stopped. I bought the Ped-egg to scrape down the worst parts and, while I do like it, if you don’t do it very consistently, the hoof-ness can get away from you. Add to that that I prefer Dansko clogs (mostly due to my foot issues – I would love to wear hot sexy heels all the time. Alas, tooties aren’t cooperating). These shoes are unbelieveably comfortable, but they are conducive to calluses. I even bought something called “Crack Creme” but mostly due to the fact that the name made me giggle.
Tonight, I broke out the big guns. Bag Balm. And socks. I don’t know if it will work, but I’m desperate. If anyone has any other suggestions, I’m willing to give them a try!
Oh, hello! Would you like some water? And how’s about a Klondike bar? (you just sang the song, didn’t you? *heh*)
I? am a hypocrite. I think I’ve known this for a while, but I’m just now allowing myself to acknowledge it. Oy! This inner growth stuff is exhausting! How am I a hypocrite, you ask?
So, you’ve probably seen those talk shows with the overly dramatically “interested” host who is grilling the guest in an attempt to make them cry. “What happened to you?” “Why are you doing this self-destructive behavior?” “Blah blah blah”. All the while feigning interest. And then the guest, sniveling in the corner of the squashy sofa, sobbing and says, “I had a hard childhood!” “My mother was mean to me!” “People were mean to me when I was in school!” “Blah blah some other lame-ass excuse that deflects all manner of responsibility!”
And then there is me at home, on my sofa, very likely with a sapphire and tonic, yelling at the television, “You whiny pathetic loser!!” “Take some responsibility for yourself and your actions.” “The past is over! Leave it there and move the fuck on!” “Blah blah blah you can’t change what happened so focus on you and your future and be fabulous with what you have now because whatever happened then made you who you are now, you cow!” (Yes, my rants are long winded and blathering. It works for me.)
So what does all this mean in terms of me being a hypocrite? When the hell am I going to get to the point? Hopefully, soon.
Recently, the realization slapped me in the face that I am that sniveling whiny talk show guest. I have been the one who has said that what happened to me in my teens led to what occurred in my twenties and that is why my thirties were the way they were and why I am at the place I am now. Well, guess what, Kitten? Remember the rant at the television? No? Here it is again: “Blah blah blah you can’t change what happened so focus on you and your future and be fabulous with what you have now because whatever happened then made you who you are now, you cow!” (I can be very harsh…)
I am over-weight because I made myself that way. Not my past. I did it. It’s time that I own that and move forward from this point. Being good to myself, as good to myself as I am to others, needs to be a priority. I have wallowed in my past for far too long. It’s boring. I’m sick of it.
It’s not going to happen overnight. I’ll have relapses. And that’s okay. It’s to be expected. But practice makes perfect, right? (Goat, maybe a few more cliches could be used here. *huge eye roll*). Baby steps towards total fabulousness is my new goal. Wish me luck and expect some meltdowns. But all the while, know that I’m getting there.
Oh, hello. C’mere, I have a question for you.
Has this ever happened to you?
It’s a little chilly out so you have the windows closed. You need to take a shower.
You’re in the shower, doing your thing. Shampoo, shampoo, shampoo, lather, lather, lather. You know the shower is hot, but you ignore the steam. (BTW, you live alone so the bathroom door is open.)
Anyhoo. You’re just about to rinse and the steam sets off the smoke detector, located right outside the bathroom door. (Convenient, no?) Awwww, crap.
The cats, who are waiting patiently for you to finish so they can rub up against your legs and add hair to them, FREAK OUT! Tails puff, claws scrabble, fur flies.
You reach out from behind the curtain and try to open the window. You have soap running down your face, you grab the curtain to steady yourself, and WHOOSH! It comes down off the wall. MOTHER F@*#^@*(!
Okay, so you drop the curtain, and manage to get the window open to let the steam out. The cats are no where to be found. The smoke detector is still screeching, and the shampoo is now down to your shoulders. You grab a towel and start waving it frantically under the detector to get the screech to stop, water pooling at your feet.
The noise finally stops. You turn around, and see the shower water flowing nicely from the nozzle onto the bathroom floor. You now have shampoo in your eyes, burning. You have to get the shower curtain back up long enough to rinse and to stop the waterfall. You balance the curtain precariously on the edges of the shower and finish your toilette, only to step out and find the cats playing in the puddles. ::sigh::
So, no? This never happened to you? Just me? Huh…
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