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 cantaloupe. It’s really lovely.
My intention was to write this (or similar) blog post Saturday night. However, life got in the way, so now it will be a “look back”, if you will.
As you may know, I was Slurpee Manager at the Gas ‘n Sip. For the past 2 years, an integration has been in the planning and execution so that we could merge with Pump ‘n Stuff to become one big giant gas conglomerate. The integration involved looking at every part of each company, determining who had better chip selections, who had prettier gas pumps, and who had more kick ass employees.
It became official this past weekend. The Gas ‘n Sip is no more. Pump ‘n Stuff is no more. We are now, collectively, known as Gas ‘n Stuff. We took on some of their stuff, they took on some of our stuff, and now we are all one. I’m still the Slurpee Manager.
So what’s the big deal? Part of this past weekend, all of the Slurpee staff, including the Leg Giggler and the two Co-Chief Pumpers was here, making sure that the Gas ‘n Stuff website was up and running correctly. (What? You would be amazed at the amount of Funyuns and Twizzlers we sell online. Don’t judge!) We were here from about 10pm Saturday night until about 8:30 Sunday morning. It. Was. MISERABLE.
There was a lot of sitting, a lot of “check in” conference calls, pizza, muffins, soda. I spent a bunch of time walking to stay away, since I don’t do caffeine anymore. By 8:30, I was so tired; I honestly thought I was going to vomit. I don’t know how people stay up for 24+ hours at a time. It scares me that medical interns do it. I was hardly able to form a coherent sentence, let alone have the wherewithal to do something important. Like, diagnose a problem or deal with a medical trauma.
So, what have I learned from this? What wisdom did I glean from this experience? I learned that the Slurpee staff is better people than I am that they can stay awake for extended periods of time and not become raging bitches. (Yeah, I became a raging bitch. I’m not proud of it. But there it is.) I learned that the Slurpee staff is a group of extremely talented, extremely intelligent Intertube people who should be very proud of their abilities. I learned that while I, too, am very talented and intelligent, it is a different kind of intelligence that doesn’t really fit with this group. I spent a lot of time feeling completely out of my element; more like I was creating MORE work than completing any. I learned that I need to get serious about finding another home – hopefully within the Gas ‘n Stuff family, but outside of it, if necessary. And I learned that while becoming Gas ‘n Stuff is exciting and may present new opportunities, I will miss the simplicity of the Gas ‘n Sip. I will miss the relative smallness of it. The fewer chip choices. The plainer pumps. After 5 years, it seems like it will be Business As Usual, but it’s still a fairly significant change. And I think I am sad about it.
But, onward now. Look to the future. The change has happened and won’t un-happen. Get on board, or go elsewhere. I have new Slurpee cups to unpack.
Oh, hello! We’re having Mediterranean Veggie Sammies today – with cilantro hummus. Have one.
Do you wish? Not just on birthday candles, or about big things. I mean about anything. Do you ever find yourself saying “I wish I could…”?
Reading the lovely Jose’s blog (found at http://www.fabergemonkey.com/) I found myself thinking, “I wish I could write poetry. It doesn’t even have to be lovely poetry.” I’ve said in the past: I wish I could…
- speak French
- run without my knees hurting
- lose 5-, 10-, 25-, 50-pounds
- live in Paris
- save money
- blah blah blah
I guess the real thing I have to ask myself is “Why can’t I…” I’ll tell you why. I can’t because I think I can’t. I bet if I changed it to “I am going to…”, that after a few false starts, I would be doing whatever it is I put my mind to.
I wish it were Friday. I wish it were sunny. I wish I had a better/different/easier/more challenging job. I wish I had bought that bag/shirt/wallet/perfume. I wish it were 5pm. I wish I could drink/stop drinking/smoke/stop smoking.
Does any of that sound like you? What are we waiting for? Why are we wishing our lives away?
On the other hand, does wishing give you hope? Is it a form of prayer? Does it give you something to look forward to? Or does it deny hope by reminding you of what you don’t have? What you lack? What you only think you want – regardless if it is really the best thing for you?
Do you wish?
Oh, hello! Pull up a chair and help yourself to some fresh cut pineapple.
I spent today with my mother. She wanted to go to one of the local discount stores for material. She makes the most gorgeous quilts, and she had a new pattern to get material for. I was her designated chauffeur. Then we were going to lunch and the yarn store, because she also knits like a pro.
My mother drives me crazy. True, unadulterated, bat-shit crazy. At the same time, I really do consider her one of my heroes. Also, since she is now “of a certain age”, I know that the time we have together is growing more limited. Spending big blocks of time of her is a wonderful test of my patience and a way to calm down my ADD. I need to remember that she’s not as young as she was – she doesn’t move as quickly; she doesn’t make decisions as quickly; she needs more attention.
Part of Mum’s challenge is that she was recently sick. I won’t go into the details, because they aren’t mine to tell, but as well as she’s doing, she is still not feeling “right”. I’m worried about her; and I know she is worried about it, but won’t say anything because she doesn’t want to be a burden.
Mum came over here to the states in the early 60s. That’s huge. I have great admiration for anyone who leaves their comfort zone – be it their job, their state, their country! – to take on a whole new challenge. A new culture. My mom did that. Hero reason #1.
Growing up, we didn’t have a lot of money. We weren’t poor, but we didn’t have “extra”. I only figured this out after the fact. I can’t speak for my brother Herb, or The Sister, but I never was aware that our family had any money issues. We never had all the big name brand stuff, but that was okay. I love that both my parents worked so hard and made us feel loved. Hero reason #2.
My mother is one of the most generous people I know. She is willing to do most anything for anyone at any time. There are times when she goes overboard – food related times mostly – but it’s all done with the best intentions. She is loving and caring. Hero reason #3.
On the downside, Mum can talk. Good gravy, Mabel. She can talk a cat off a tuna wagon. For real. The 5 hours we spent together today – she probably spent 3 1/2 of it talking. I hardly got a word in. And if I did try to relay some story, she interrupted and took the tale off in some random direction. For this reason, I need to get into the right frame of mind before I spend a lot of time with her. I don’t want to get irritated with her or mad at her for something so silly. Who knows – in another few years, I could end up longing for one of these days together. I hope it’s longer than a few though.
So that’s Mum. My hero. I love her. And she is a big reason why I am the person I am. I hope she’s around for a long time yet. If I’m lucky, she will be.
Oh, hello! We’re having dinner this evening – barbecue pulled pork, brown rice, steamed Brussel sprouts. Dig in!
Recently, I wrote a post about being lonely, which if I may say so was a big hit. That wasn’t why I wrote it, but I’m thankful for the praise I’ve received.
That said, my post tonight is NOT about me being lonely, but it is about me being restless. Restless in my life. Restless in my job. I feel like I would love to shake things up and move away and change jobs. But of course, if that were to happen, I would freak out and cry and not want to go. Because, as the saying goes, wherever you go, there you are. Moving away and changing jobs won’t cure my restlessness. And can I tell you why? Can I?
BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW WHY I’M RESTLESS!! If I knew that, I could fix it. Maybe I look around and see others making changes or maybe it’s because things at the Gas ‘n Sip are changing, and I’m either jealous or anxious or scared. (Things at the Gas ‘n Sip ARE changing. I believe they are getting rid of the Slurpee Station, so I may end up at the Nacho Bar or on the Wiener Wheel. I think I would really like the Wiener Wheel – I would totally bogart some of that melty orange cheese from the nachos for the wieners. Sales will skyrocket!! More about that at another time.)
What I think I need to do is to spend a little time trying to figure out what is bothering me. What is it that is making me fidgety? Why am I unsatisfied? What am I unsatisfied with? Oh, these huge existential philosophical conundrums with which I am dealing. Sometimes it’s hard to to be me. Wait, conundrums? Conundra? Hmmm. I think I need to go check that.
Have you ever had (what you consider) a really good friend? One who you spent a huge amount of time with, laughing and having fun? But then all of a sudden, they start to pull away? You see them less and less? They call you less and less? You call them, but get voice mail more than a person? It’s sad, and it hurts, and it’s part of life. Everyone comes into and goes out of your life for a purpose. Some stay longer than others and some make more of an impact on your life than others.
So, have you ever had that happen to you? No? Me either. *snort*
Oh, hello! Tonight, it”s Sugar-Free Pecan Shortbread cookies, and club soda. The cookies are a little stale, but you don’t mind, right?
Remember when you were little? And you saw another little girl or boy who was about your age? You thought nothing of just going up to them and playing and giggling and chatting and being instant friends. There was no judgement, no ulterior motive, no guile.
Remember when you got to high school? All the cliques? One day you are BFFs with this group of girls (or boys) and the next they have “turned” on you and talk about you badly behind your back and laugh at you. There is one-ups-manship; judgement; cattiness.
Me? I am NOT GOOD at this whole making friends thing. It’s not that I don’t want friends, but I’m in a viscious circle – having friends and someone to hang out with is great, but I’m fairly private too, so opening up to people is hard for me. That tends to push people away. And it starts all over again. *sigh*
As part of my letting go of the past and not wallowing in the crap, I’m looking at why I do the things I do. I’ve had “friends” in the past who I thought I could trust. (And this was WAY past HS). And suddenly, with no explanation, I’ve been shut out. It hurts when that happens. I wracked my brain to figure out what happened, and to this day, I honestly have no idea. This has happened more than once. As a result, I have trust issues. I don’t want to have trust issues. I want to have friends.
I just still always have that back in HS feeling where there is the “cool kids” group, and I am on the outside, looking in with envy. Mostly, this is due to my crippling insecurity. What if I say something stoopid? What if they laugh? What if they talk about me after I walk away? Also? I am very shy by nature. Most people do not believe that about me at all. But, I find being social exhausting! If I make myself the center of attention, I’m okay with it. But if someone else puts the spotlight on me, I am MISERABLE!! I want to crawl under a table and hide. Then… once I am comfortable with a sitch, I’m good. My confidence level jumps from -27 to around 2.
I would love to have a handfull of friends with whom I could be completely comfortable, could tell anything to, would do anything for or would do anything for me. My friend Meffa is that to a point, but I hold myself back. I know I do it. I hate that I do it. The K2Kid is another.
So, I’m going to ask you a favor. As a way to help me get out of the past, if you are talking to me, and feel me pulling away, call me on it. Let me know I’m safe. It really doesn’t have anything to do with something you’ve done. It’s all me. I’m owning this. And I’m asking for help with it (another thing that is EXTREMELY hard for me to do.) Thank you in advance.
Baby steps, right?
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! Come in. Can I get you some water? With lemon?
Do you ever have days where you just feel alone? It’s similar to lonely but…. no, I guess lonely is a good way to describe it. But at the same time it’s also a feeling that no one “gets” you. Today is one of those days for me.
I’ve been lonely a lot lately. But it’s not the kind of lonely that getting out of the house will fix. It’s the kind that no matter how many people are around, they just don’t get your thoughts or wit or snark or kindness. It doesn’t feel judge-y either; more like they just don’t care. They are so wrapped up in their own lives and loves and work and troubles that they listen but they just don’t hear. And they may attempt to interact, but you know, looking into their eyes that they are a million miles away and everything you just said is gone. Then they get up, and go back to their bubble, and you don’t feel any better.
I know, deep inside, that I have people who care, and who love me, and would listen. And this is where the conundrum comes in. I really don’t like dumping my sh!t onto other people. They have enough to deal with without having my baggage. And so begins the viscious circle. Who do I trust enough to vent to, and yet care about less than the people I love, to not worry about leaving my cr@p there with them.
Before you say it, I know that the people who love me would listen to my b!tching. I know that. So do I dump my stuff on them, and risk alienating them if I do it too often?
And the people with whom I work, at the Gas ‘n Sip, they think nothing of it. They stop by my counter and just vent and go off and unburden themselves and think nothing of it. Maybe I’m a good listener, who knows? ::note to self: add “good listener” to my list of fabulous traits:: But then my counter is just awash in their negative chi and I have to sit there and marinate in it. I can’t smudge my area because the dang smoke alarms will go off!
The only one I can really do that with is the K2Kid and she is so busy, uh… working, that I don’t like to do that to her. I can’t talk to the Leg Jiggler because he is one of the most negative people, EVER! And somehow, he manages to turn every conversation around to himself. (Seriously, even in my annual review, he was going over things about himself that he needs to work on! Hello!?!? Can this one hour be just about me? Please??)
Holly Golightly (aka Audrey Hepburn, whom I adore!!) called this feeling “a case of the mean reds”, where it’s more than the blues, and you aren’t quite sure what’s wrong, but you just feel down. I think I need to grab my lute and go sit on my fire escape, and sing “Moon River”. Oh, that’s right, I don’t have either of those things. *sigh*
I just can’t win… where are the twins? Maybe they’ll snuggle with me if I give them treats…
Oh, hello. Good to see you again. The tea is ready, so feel free to sit and chat.
Okay, I have a confession to make. I am living my life in this world as an over-weight woman. I recognize that American’s are the fattest people in the world, but unless you yourself are over-weight you have no idea what it’s like.
I am not blaming my weight on thyroid or some other medical issue. I take full responsibility for being the weight I am. But that doesn’t make the looks, the judgements, and the lack of retail choices any easier.
When I graduated from High School, I weight 120 pounds. I’m 5’6″. I was a competitive swimmer and I was very active. College brought on an additional 25 pounds, which still looked okay (and was likely due to the amount of drinking I did.).
However, after college, there was a period of, shall we say, frequent dating. Again, I take responsibility for my own actions, but I also recognize this was the beginning of the decline of my self-esteem. As the esteem declined, the eating increased. A series of rejections made it worse. I think the final straw in my complete close down was the evening when I was speaking to my on-again, off-again fella, told him I loved him, and he responded with “Fuck off”. Subconsciously, I think I decided then that I would be better off alone.
I have since steadily gained weight and have not dated. Logically, I KNOW that I use my weight as a wall or shield or whatever to keep people away. People don’t like fat people. Fat people are “lazy”, “gross”, and “disgusting”. They aren’t worth getting to know and are easy targets to make fun of. Look at all the movies that mock fat people. Comedians make fat people the butt of jokes.
It also doesn’t help that there is someone in my life who brings diet, weight-loss, calorie counts, and exercise into EVERY SINGLE CONVERSATION and indicates that I haven’t met and won’t meet “Mr. Wonderful” until I lose weight. The constant mental flogging is exhausting.
But, I KNOW that I won’t meet “Mr Wonderful” until I resolve within myself the fact that the men in my past were wrong for me and about me. They were young and immature. And I didn’t and don’t deserve to be treated with anything less than total respect. I have worth and have something to contribute to this world.
I know all of these things. Really. I guess my delay is that, while I know it, I don’t necessarily believe it. I don’t know how to get past that either.How do I become “normal” and have “normal” interactions with people?
Well, I know this isn’t a humorous post. And it probably didn’t bring a smile to your face. Sorry about that.
I’ll be funny next time. Maybe.