http://theberry.com/2014/07/30/so-much-character-i-want-to-go-to-there-26-photos/
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
The Promotional Possibility
My bedroom looked like the workroom of Fashion Runway by the time I was ready to leave for work this morning. I've been so exhausted lately that the thought of planning an outfit for my interview the next day at 8pm feels monumental. Instead, I opted to wait until after showering and full-on styling my hair at 4am. Not the brightest idea, so let's all just take a moment to be grateful for maxi dresses and cardigans....... AMEN.
My interview wasn't until noon today, which is usually when I take my lunch break and walk with Kimber (by the way, that's her alias because she likes that name). We're flexible so we took a quick walk around 10 before I met with my mentor aka "Work Dad". Kimber is about 16 weeks pregnant, so I'm really loving hearing about all of her crazy dreams (that have been par with mine). I met with my mentor/Work Dad shortly after and we reviewed some hit points that I'd need to be sure to include, and he planned on casually running into the hiring manager conducting the interviews (before the reference check, which we're all assuming I'm going to receive). Still nervous, I endured the next hour while we met our new supervisor. This was also the hour that my current supervisor (basically filling in until we got a real one) got my name wrong... after working with me for five years. Yeah, thanks for that. It makes me really believe the bullshit spewing out of your mouth about how wonderful you think I am. How about getting my name right first?
Finally I made my way down to the secured area in which the interviews were being conducted. The proctor was pretty nice; I'd recognized him from when he was hired about a year and a half ago. This was good news: by him proctoring and being the same classification as I am, I knew he wasn't going for the promotion on his own team. One less person to compete with. It's much harder to compete with someone who's actually doing the job already. This is where the fun begins...
I'm escorted through a maze of workstations, to a secluded back area next to a locked door and some offices. I sat at the empty workstation as directed, while business proceeded as usual all around me. I was given twenty minutes to respond to a prompt for a written assignment. I'd already submitted a supplemental application when I turned in my application, and figured those two pages would cover the majority of any outstanding questions. Apparently I was wrong. Hastily, I wrote my name at the top corner and began my introductory paragraph. The following paragraph displayed my awesome confidentiality skills and customer service experience, followed up by my coordination with external vendors and contract negotiations. The last paragraph went on to further show off my awesomeness and I wrapped that sucker up with a nice "I'm your best choice" bow. Okay, I didn't actually write that sentence. It was implied.
Oh, wait, did I mention the distraction trifecta? While I'm compiling my thoughts into what I need to be one of the best essays ever, there are people coming from and going to lunch badging in the door next to me. Around the corner was a Legal Rep in his office with the door open listening to his 14 new voicemails on speakerphone. Why? Because who cares, that's why. On the other side of me was a middle aged man in his cubicle watching a rerun of the price is right sandwiched with infomercials on the breaks, giggling and belching. Yes, belching. It's lunch hour, remember? I rested my left ear in the palm of my left hand and kept writing. I was not about to let this whirlwind of gross be an excuse for me doing poorly on anything, and refused to do poorly.
Once my twenty minutes was up, the proctor took my two pages (numbered, by the way, because I rock like that), my file authorization, and handed me the interview questions which I thought I'd get to take notes on. Wrong again! I had a whopping five minutes to review the five, three-part questions, without making notes. Okay, guess I'll take what I can get. I could feel my blood pressure steep a little. So far for this position (in the past week) I've written two two-page essays and am reviewing the equivalent to fifteen interview questions in five minutes.
Relieved knowing I was halfway done, the proctor escorted me back through the maze and over to a quiet room where the panel was waiting to begin the oral interview. Hands were shook, formalities were out of the way, and so began the real interview. The chairperson made a joke about doing all that writing and to shake out my nerves from writing so much. To be honest, not much rattles me. I keep my composure insanely well, and even when I'm nervous, nobody would think twice that I was metaphorically shaking in my boots unless they really, truly knew me. I made a lame joke about keeping me on my toes and not expecting a written assignment, but hey, that just shows how flexible and adaptable I am to a changing environment and new, unplanned tasks, right? It was appreciated.
We rattled through the questions and I threw out example X, Y, and Z about this question and that question, how my time management skills are through the freakin' roof, and how if I don't know something, I'll be the first to use all of my resources to familiarize myself with the subject and ask questions. After 17 minutes of me reliving some of the most stressful points of my career that happen to serve as the best examples of my magnificence, I thanked the panel for their time and handed them my updated list of references, complete with timeframes in which I reported to each supervisor. I'm pretty efficient and thorough. It was at that point that I caught myself and hoped I wasn't coming off as an asshole. Hey, here are my references. I rocked that shit so I know you're going to call them, and I want to make sure you call the people that make me sound the best. I then made it very clear that I didn't mean to assume they were checking my references, but I'd rather be prepared in the case that they do. There were some chuckles. The lead chairperson thanked me for coming in on my lunch hour, and appreciates that I'm that flexible. "Now, please go get some lunch!"
My response: "That's all part of effective time management, right?"
I probably said this with the thickest layer of cheese, but it got some laughs and some "very good"s, and it was at that moment I prayed that the contagious charm as noted in my recent personality evaluation was really going to come through for me.
GAHHHHHHHH. Fingers crossed, y'all. I REALLY want this promotion.
.... but I basically ROCKED THAT SHIT.
My interview wasn't until noon today, which is usually when I take my lunch break and walk with Kimber (by the way, that's her alias because she likes that name). We're flexible so we took a quick walk around 10 before I met with my mentor aka "Work Dad". Kimber is about 16 weeks pregnant, so I'm really loving hearing about all of her crazy dreams (that have been par with mine). I met with my mentor/Work Dad shortly after and we reviewed some hit points that I'd need to be sure to include, and he planned on casually running into the hiring manager conducting the interviews (before the reference check, which we're all assuming I'm going to receive). Still nervous, I endured the next hour while we met our new supervisor. This was also the hour that my current supervisor (basically filling in until we got a real one) got my name wrong... after working with me for five years. Yeah, thanks for that. It makes me really believe the bullshit spewing out of your mouth about how wonderful you think I am. How about getting my name right first?
Finally I made my way down to the secured area in which the interviews were being conducted. The proctor was pretty nice; I'd recognized him from when he was hired about a year and a half ago. This was good news: by him proctoring and being the same classification as I am, I knew he wasn't going for the promotion on his own team. One less person to compete with. It's much harder to compete with someone who's actually doing the job already. This is where the fun begins...
I'm escorted through a maze of workstations, to a secluded back area next to a locked door and some offices. I sat at the empty workstation as directed, while business proceeded as usual all around me. I was given twenty minutes to respond to a prompt for a written assignment. I'd already submitted a supplemental application when I turned in my application, and figured those two pages would cover the majority of any outstanding questions. Apparently I was wrong. Hastily, I wrote my name at the top corner and began my introductory paragraph. The following paragraph displayed my awesome confidentiality skills and customer service experience, followed up by my coordination with external vendors and contract negotiations. The last paragraph went on to further show off my awesomeness and I wrapped that sucker up with a nice "I'm your best choice" bow. Okay, I didn't actually write that sentence. It was implied.
Oh, wait, did I mention the distraction trifecta? While I'm compiling my thoughts into what I need to be one of the best essays ever, there are people coming from and going to lunch badging in the door next to me. Around the corner was a Legal Rep in his office with the door open listening to his 14 new voicemails on speakerphone. Why? Because who cares, that's why. On the other side of me was a middle aged man in his cubicle watching a rerun of the price is right sandwiched with infomercials on the breaks, giggling and belching. Yes, belching. It's lunch hour, remember? I rested my left ear in the palm of my left hand and kept writing. I was not about to let this whirlwind of gross be an excuse for me doing poorly on anything, and refused to do poorly.
Once my twenty minutes was up, the proctor took my two pages (numbered, by the way, because I rock like that), my file authorization, and handed me the interview questions which I thought I'd get to take notes on. Wrong again! I had a whopping five minutes to review the five, three-part questions, without making notes. Okay, guess I'll take what I can get. I could feel my blood pressure steep a little. So far for this position (in the past week) I've written two two-page essays and am reviewing the equivalent to fifteen interview questions in five minutes.
Relieved knowing I was halfway done, the proctor escorted me back through the maze and over to a quiet room where the panel was waiting to begin the oral interview. Hands were shook, formalities were out of the way, and so began the real interview. The chairperson made a joke about doing all that writing and to shake out my nerves from writing so much. To be honest, not much rattles me. I keep my composure insanely well, and even when I'm nervous, nobody would think twice that I was metaphorically shaking in my boots unless they really, truly knew me. I made a lame joke about keeping me on my toes and not expecting a written assignment, but hey, that just shows how flexible and adaptable I am to a changing environment and new, unplanned tasks, right? It was appreciated.
We rattled through the questions and I threw out example X, Y, and Z about this question and that question, how my time management skills are through the freakin' roof, and how if I don't know something, I'll be the first to use all of my resources to familiarize myself with the subject and ask questions. After 17 minutes of me reliving some of the most stressful points of my career that happen to serve as the best examples of my magnificence, I thanked the panel for their time and handed them my updated list of references, complete with timeframes in which I reported to each supervisor. I'm pretty efficient and thorough. It was at that point that I caught myself and hoped I wasn't coming off as an asshole. Hey, here are my references. I rocked that shit so I know you're going to call them, and I want to make sure you call the people that make me sound the best. I then made it very clear that I didn't mean to assume they were checking my references, but I'd rather be prepared in the case that they do. There were some chuckles. The lead chairperson thanked me for coming in on my lunch hour, and appreciates that I'm that flexible. "Now, please go get some lunch!"
My response: "That's all part of effective time management, right?"
I probably said this with the thickest layer of cheese, but it got some laughs and some "very good"s, and it was at that moment I prayed that the contagious charm as noted in my recent personality evaluation was really going to come through for me.
GAHHHHHHHH. Fingers crossed, y'all. I REALLY want this promotion.
.... but I basically ROCKED THAT SHIT.
Monday, July 28, 2014
When Plan A Fails
Anyone here familiar with Amy Schumer? I find her terribly hilarious, but that's probably because the majority of the day my mind is in the gutter.... Like every guy I know...
Yikes.
Monday, July 21, 2014
College Kids
As I've previously mentioned, part of my job consists of scheduling interviews. This process so happens to be hiring for Student Interns. It's been a bit of a challenge getting interviews scheduled all on one day, so I managed to schedule two days plus a third the following week.
Given I graduated with my Bachelor's three and a half years ago, and using email was a prime method of communication, I was under the impression that email would be the best method in reaching these young, hopefully-ambitious applicants.
I was wrong.
Apparently, email is old news, and unless I can schedule these interviews via text message, dialing up the old phone is the method that's proved most efficient. Phone calls it is.
There were a few candidates that were incredibly pleasant to speak with and more than excited to be given the opportunity to interview. Upon telling them I was sending a follow-up email to confirm their appointment with location and instructions, these candidates rapidly and enthusiastically emailed back. Yay!
On the other hand, there were a few candidates that were harder to get in touch with than the president. Candidate X, for example, was sent two emails to follow up with more information that I'd needed before scheduling them. After promptly responding to that email (I say promptly because it only took 18 hours), Candidate X did not respond when sent an interview appointment time. In my efforts to confirm this appointment, I picked up the received from my desk phone, and reluctantly started dialing out.
"Hi, may I please speak with Candidate X?"
"Yeah. This is him. Who are YOU?" (feel free to add as much snarky and rude attitude as you'd like).
"This is KC with Agency Name calling to follow up with you regarding your intern interview."
Tone changes: "Oh, yeah, what's up?" Seriously, BRO? What's up? Ugh.
"I received your follow up email with the documents I requested. Thank you for that. I also sent you an email scheduling your interview."
"Ya. Kay."
"So, I'd like to follow up and confirm that you'll be able to make your interview on This Day at This Time..."
I didn't get halfway through that thought before I heard, " Yeah, yeah, yeah, alright already I get it."
"... Umm, alright..."
"Kay thanks." CLICK.
Really, universe? You give me this punk to deal with? Some sort of "curses upon your house and brethren" type word vomit spilled out of my mouth after the brat hung up on me.
**Follow Up** The little shit completely bombed the interview and scored very poorly. I guess that's what happens when you're so focused on yourself and are a rude asshole to others (NOTE: I was not on any panel, nor did I contribute to any scoring whatsoever... it just happened that way).
Once I gathered my thoughts after dealing with the POS Candidate X was, I decided to move on and confirm an interview with Candidate Y. Please keep in mind that this all took place around 3pm.
"Hi, may I please speak with Candidate Y?"
(whispering) "This is Candidate Y."
"This is KC from Agency Name. I'm calling to confirm your interview on This Date at This Time as stated in the interview I sent you yesterday."
(still whispering) "I'll be there."
At this point, I started speaking very quietly, because for some reason he was making me feel like I needed to be quiet. Dude, are you okay? Were you asleep? If so, is it because you work nights, or because you are a lazy ass college kid? Is someone in your house? Should I call the cops? Are you in a hostage situation?
(me slightly whispering because I couldn't help it) "Okay, thank you. We will see you then. Have a great day."
CLICK.
Well, at least he wasn't a total jerk like Candidate X was, right?
Now we move on to Candidate Z. Ahhh, Candidate Z. This was probably one of the most interesting phone calls I've ever experienced in my life (next to when I interrupted someone's afternoon delight with an interview phone call a few years ago. True story.)
"Hi, may I please speak with Candidate Z?" (I was expecting a male to respond, so when a female blurted out the following, I was genuinely taken by surprise)
"Who the FUCK IS THIS?!"
"Umm... [I actually forgot my name for a second] This is KC with Agency Name calling to schedule Candidate Z with an intern interview, but I'm pretty sure I have the wrong number..."
"No this is his number. Who are you and what do you want to schedule him for? He didn't apply to any intern job? Who are you really? Are you another one of his hussies?" (rattling on, clearly very upset)
"No ma'am, I'm actually just trying to schedule him for an interview, but if he isn't available you can have him call me back at [gave my desk number]. Thanks!"
This time I hung up first.
I always have a hard time believing these people exist. Then I take joy in these people making me seem normal in comparison.
WIN.
Given I graduated with my Bachelor's three and a half years ago, and using email was a prime method of communication, I was under the impression that email would be the best method in reaching these young, hopefully-ambitious applicants.
I was wrong.
Apparently, email is old news, and unless I can schedule these interviews via text message, dialing up the old phone is the method that's proved most efficient. Phone calls it is.
There were a few candidates that were incredibly pleasant to speak with and more than excited to be given the opportunity to interview. Upon telling them I was sending a follow-up email to confirm their appointment with location and instructions, these candidates rapidly and enthusiastically emailed back. Yay!
On the other hand, there were a few candidates that were harder to get in touch with than the president. Candidate X, for example, was sent two emails to follow up with more information that I'd needed before scheduling them. After promptly responding to that email (I say promptly because it only took 18 hours), Candidate X did not respond when sent an interview appointment time. In my efforts to confirm this appointment, I picked up the received from my desk phone, and reluctantly started dialing out.
"Hi, may I please speak with Candidate X?"
"Yeah. This is him. Who are YOU?" (feel free to add as much snarky and rude attitude as you'd like).
"This is KC with Agency Name calling to follow up with you regarding your intern interview."
Tone changes: "Oh, yeah, what's up?" Seriously, BRO? What's up? Ugh.
"I received your follow up email with the documents I requested. Thank you for that. I also sent you an email scheduling your interview."
"Ya. Kay."
"So, I'd like to follow up and confirm that you'll be able to make your interview on This Day at This Time..."
I didn't get halfway through that thought before I heard, " Yeah, yeah, yeah, alright already I get it."
"... Umm, alright..."
"Kay thanks." CLICK.
Really, universe? You give me this punk to deal with? Some sort of "curses upon your house and brethren" type word vomit spilled out of my mouth after the brat hung up on me.
**Follow Up** The little shit completely bombed the interview and scored very poorly. I guess that's what happens when you're so focused on yourself and are a rude asshole to others (NOTE: I was not on any panel, nor did I contribute to any scoring whatsoever... it just happened that way).
Once I gathered my thoughts after dealing with the POS Candidate X was, I decided to move on and confirm an interview with Candidate Y. Please keep in mind that this all took place around 3pm.
"Hi, may I please speak with Candidate Y?"
(whispering) "This is Candidate Y."
"This is KC from Agency Name. I'm calling to confirm your interview on This Date at This Time as stated in the interview I sent you yesterday."
(still whispering) "I'll be there."
At this point, I started speaking very quietly, because for some reason he was making me feel like I needed to be quiet. Dude, are you okay? Were you asleep? If so, is it because you work nights, or because you are a lazy ass college kid? Is someone in your house? Should I call the cops? Are you in a hostage situation?
(me slightly whispering because I couldn't help it) "Okay, thank you. We will see you then. Have a great day."
CLICK.
Well, at least he wasn't a total jerk like Candidate X was, right?
Now we move on to Candidate Z. Ahhh, Candidate Z. This was probably one of the most interesting phone calls I've ever experienced in my life (next to when I interrupted someone's afternoon delight with an interview phone call a few years ago. True story.)
"Hi, may I please speak with Candidate Z?" (I was expecting a male to respond, so when a female blurted out the following, I was genuinely taken by surprise)
"Who the FUCK IS THIS?!"
"Umm... [I actually forgot my name for a second] This is KC with Agency Name calling to schedule Candidate Z with an intern interview, but I'm pretty sure I have the wrong number..."
"No this is his number. Who are you and what do you want to schedule him for? He didn't apply to any intern job? Who are you really? Are you another one of his hussies?" (rattling on, clearly very upset)
"No ma'am, I'm actually just trying to schedule him for an interview, but if he isn't available you can have him call me back at [gave my desk number]. Thanks!"
This time I hung up first.
I always have a hard time believing these people exist. Then I take joy in these people making me seem normal in comparison.
WIN.
Sunday, July 20, 2014
Recreational Activities
The Giver-Of-My-Life and I went to the state fair earlier this week. I actually used some vacation time and cut out of work early. The amount I'm hating that place is better suited for a blog post in its own, though.
Anyway, the Wheel Mobile or Wheel Watchers van or whatever it's called was at the fair for two days. I attribute much of my successes in English classes to Wheel of Fortune thanks to my mom watching it all the time while I was growing up. I really liked the show and have always felt a sense of badass accomplishment when I was able to solve the puzzle on my own and before the people on TV.
For the two days the truck was in town with it's traveling auditions crew, there were six sessions, three per day, where attendees could enter to be selected to go on stage. This is essentially part one of a multi-part audition for the actual show. Even if your name wasn't called to go up on stage, your entry card would still be considered for an audition within the next few months. As soon as a name is called, that person's audition begins, and everything is recorded.
My mom and I arrived to the fair around 4 pm, an hour early for the 5 pm Wheel of Fortune show, and with plenty of time to watch the motocross show (which was AMAZING by the way... who knew three motocross guys could capture my attention for that long). I have no delusions about my anxiety that I take a multitude of measures to conquer on a daily basis, one of them being medication. I'm fairly open with this, as I believe my openness about it not only helps me deal with it, but might help others in the process. My mother is one of the people that should be medicated, but isn't. (I'm getting to why this is relevant, I promise).
Knowing my mom was more excited about auditioning to be on Wheel of Fortune than I was, and she'd clearly wanted it more, I decided to take my entry card and fill it in with her information. I wrote down her name, address, email, and all other pertinent contact information, on the card before reaching the bottom section which instructed the applicant to note their hobbies, what they like to do in their free time, and interesting facts about themselves. I know my mother very well, and knew without a doubt once she got to that section she would turn to me and say, " I don't know what's interesting about me. What should I put? I don't know what to write."
Sure enough, that's exactly what happened. I responded telling her to just be honest and write her favorite pastimes. Also knowing my mother as well as I do, I knew this would consist of "scrapbooking and spending time with my family"... aka the most generic and widely used response of all time. To spice things up, I decided I'd make her entry slightly more exciting.
"I'm addicted to Candy Crush, mostly. I'm going to rehab for it, so it's not a huge problem anymore... but I still have urges."
Once our entries were dropped in the box, I spilled the beans and let my mom know I'd added one for her as well. "You jerk! Why did you do that?! What if they call me twice?!"
Can you see where the anxiety comes from? This woman was so excited to go to this audition, then nearly had a breakdown when her chances were doubled.
The entire show we sat there waiting for her name to be called... which was actually more like we spent 45 minutes of my mother panicking about having to go up onstage... or being disqualified for her name in twice. Insert eye-rolling here.
While we're watching other potential contestants, an Indian woman (with a very, very thick accent) was called to the stage. Her excitement wasn't matched by anyone. She didn't even wait for the host to ask her any questions, she just jumped right in and rattled off loads of facts about herself. I learned that she likes to spend time with her family just like the fifty other mothers that applied, she likes gardening and spending time outside and she does a lot of cocaine.
Well, she actually does a lot of cooking, but my mother immediately leaned over and asked, "Did she just say she does a lot of cocaine??"
Yes, mom. She openly admits to doing a lot of cocaine in public while being filmed for a nationally broadcast game show.
I guess the assumption wasn't that far off base, I mean, we WERE at the state fair, in the heart of the city, where there are a lot of drug-related police reports filed.
Bottom line: My mother needs to be medicated to calm her shit, and not with cocaine.
Anyway, the Wheel Mobile or Wheel Watchers van or whatever it's called was at the fair for two days. I attribute much of my successes in English classes to Wheel of Fortune thanks to my mom watching it all the time while I was growing up. I really liked the show and have always felt a sense of badass accomplishment when I was able to solve the puzzle on my own and before the people on TV.
For the two days the truck was in town with it's traveling auditions crew, there were six sessions, three per day, where attendees could enter to be selected to go on stage. This is essentially part one of a multi-part audition for the actual show. Even if your name wasn't called to go up on stage, your entry card would still be considered for an audition within the next few months. As soon as a name is called, that person's audition begins, and everything is recorded.
My mom and I arrived to the fair around 4 pm, an hour early for the 5 pm Wheel of Fortune show, and with plenty of time to watch the motocross show (which was AMAZING by the way... who knew three motocross guys could capture my attention for that long). I have no delusions about my anxiety that I take a multitude of measures to conquer on a daily basis, one of them being medication. I'm fairly open with this, as I believe my openness about it not only helps me deal with it, but might help others in the process. My mother is one of the people that should be medicated, but isn't. (I'm getting to why this is relevant, I promise).
Knowing my mom was more excited about auditioning to be on Wheel of Fortune than I was, and she'd clearly wanted it more, I decided to take my entry card and fill it in with her information. I wrote down her name, address, email, and all other pertinent contact information, on the card before reaching the bottom section which instructed the applicant to note their hobbies, what they like to do in their free time, and interesting facts about themselves. I know my mother very well, and knew without a doubt once she got to that section she would turn to me and say, " I don't know what's interesting about me. What should I put? I don't know what to write."
Sure enough, that's exactly what happened. I responded telling her to just be honest and write her favorite pastimes. Also knowing my mother as well as I do, I knew this would consist of "scrapbooking and spending time with my family"... aka the most generic and widely used response of all time. To spice things up, I decided I'd make her entry slightly more exciting.
"I'm addicted to Candy Crush, mostly. I'm going to rehab for it, so it's not a huge problem anymore... but I still have urges."
Once our entries were dropped in the box, I spilled the beans and let my mom know I'd added one for her as well. "You jerk! Why did you do that?! What if they call me twice?!"
Can you see where the anxiety comes from? This woman was so excited to go to this audition, then nearly had a breakdown when her chances were doubled.
The entire show we sat there waiting for her name to be called... which was actually more like we spent 45 minutes of my mother panicking about having to go up onstage... or being disqualified for her name in twice. Insert eye-rolling here.
While we're watching other potential contestants, an Indian woman (with a very, very thick accent) was called to the stage. Her excitement wasn't matched by anyone. She didn't even wait for the host to ask her any questions, she just jumped right in and rattled off loads of facts about herself. I learned that she likes to spend time with her family just like the fifty other mothers that applied, she likes gardening and spending time outside and she does a lot of cocaine.
Well, she actually does a lot of cooking, but my mother immediately leaned over and asked, "Did she just say she does a lot of cocaine??"
Yes, mom. She openly admits to doing a lot of cocaine in public while being filmed for a nationally broadcast game show.
I guess the assumption wasn't that far off base, I mean, we WERE at the state fair, in the heart of the city, where there are a lot of drug-related police reports filed.
Bottom line: My mother needs to be medicated to calm her shit, and not with cocaine.
The PG stuff
When I was a kid I believed in fairies. I believed that love at first sight was a real thing, and that one day it would happen to me. My prince charming, or knight in shining armor, or whatever he would be, would come metaphorically riding into my life, sweep me off my feet, and whisk me away to happily ever after. The rule was, if you were a little girl, you'd grow up to be a princess and fall in love with a handsome prince. That was the rule.
At some point in my mid-twenty-something years, I realized that I'm the exception to this rule. A number of wannabes in tin foil have stumbled up to my doorstep and clamored the claddagh ring door knocker, only to stay for some coffee and leave me there to do the dishes. I'll give them credit for the tin foil; at least they're trying, right?
I'm at the point in my life where the most common trend in society is for all of your friends to get married and start popping out kids like a pez dispenser. I'm also at the point where the other half of my friends that decided to get married early on are getting divorced. There is a swirling tornado of happiness and grief surrounding the world of facebook at the moment, probably all thanks to my friends. It's become quite confusing to my strangely assembled life. Am I supposed to run off and get married to a guy that pops up on match.com? Am I supposed to just be happy that I'm single and don't have to deal with all of the issues that come along with marriage? Am I supposed to be grateful that I can still go out whenever I want because I don't need to find a babysitter? Or am I just supposed to be content with knowing that I don't need to hire a lawyer and make a list of communal property to sort out?
I don't need to do any of that. OR... I can do all of it. I'm learning quite a bit about myself lately, mostly over the last year since my last long-term relationship ended. I may not know what I want entirely, but I most definitely know what I don't want.
I've learned that a habit of mine is dissecting every little thing that happens, especially when members of the opposite sex. For some reason, my brain processes events and texts and messages as if there's some other meaning, when sometimes things can just BE. There doesn't need to be any extraction of it. This also has lead to me putting everything about myself out there and on the table and sometimes almost asking, begging to be smashed into tiny pieces. Many people think that's silly. Why waste time and put yourself out there so much?
I may dissect things too much, I may put myself out there as if nobody has ever broken my heart before, and I may continue to hope that he's going to graciously flow through my door with lilies, knowing that I don't like roses, and kiss me with a dip that I'll probably ruin by slipping and falling on my ass... but at least that all means I still care. I still have hope. Some people in particular may think they've won. They think because they aren't putting themselves out there or letting people in, or even letting people stay in their lives that they won't get hurt. You may not get hurt, but you don't find happiness that way either. I may do a lot of stupid shit, but I'm a lot closer to love than a lot of people.
Part of my dissecting comes from growing up. When I was a kid, if a boy teased you or poked you or was in any way mean to you, it was because he liked you. I was told stories that implored me to wait for the third act twist, like fairy tales and rom-coms always showed in them. I was told that I'd be the exception to that rule that love happens the same way for everyone, that my prince charming would show up when the time was right. What they didn't tell me, and what I've learned, is how to read the signs, how to tell the ones that care from the ones that don't, how to make your own happy ending, how to be content and happy with yourself.
If a guy wants to be with a girl, he will make it happen. He will return the calls, he will hang on to the texts and keep his word. He will do SOMETHING to let you know that he cares, that he STILL cares, and that you are important to him. Even if it's platonic, if a person wants you in their life, they will make room for you to stay, and make the moves to make sure that you do just that.You will also go out of YOUR way to make sure they know you want them in your life. Every relationship takes effort from both sides. So, that person may still love you. They probably do love you more than they're even aware of. They probably think of you more than you have any idea, or give credit to. You may cross their mind during the day, you may even make them smile when they are dealing with something insurmountably difficult to explain. That's all wonderful and hopeful and probably true, but that's not what matters.
What matters is what they're doing about it, and if what they are doing about it is nothing, then you certainly shouldn't be doing anything. I know, it's not that easy. I have no delusions about life being black and white. I see life as one big grey area to be honest. Nothing is ever black and white, unless of course it's #FFFFFF or #000000 for all you web nerds out there.
I'm not in an emotional depression. I have no delusions about where any of my relationships with anyone in my life stand. I'm really just trying to get everything in my head out so I can think straight for the rest of the evening. If it helps someone in the process, then I'm more than happy to be there as well.
At some point in my mid-twenty-something years, I realized that I'm the exception to this rule. A number of wannabes in tin foil have stumbled up to my doorstep and clamored the claddagh ring door knocker, only to stay for some coffee and leave me there to do the dishes. I'll give them credit for the tin foil; at least they're trying, right?
I'm at the point in my life where the most common trend in society is for all of your friends to get married and start popping out kids like a pez dispenser. I'm also at the point where the other half of my friends that decided to get married early on are getting divorced. There is a swirling tornado of happiness and grief surrounding the world of facebook at the moment, probably all thanks to my friends. It's become quite confusing to my strangely assembled life. Am I supposed to run off and get married to a guy that pops up on match.com? Am I supposed to just be happy that I'm single and don't have to deal with all of the issues that come along with marriage? Am I supposed to be grateful that I can still go out whenever I want because I don't need to find a babysitter? Or am I just supposed to be content with knowing that I don't need to hire a lawyer and make a list of communal property to sort out?
I don't need to do any of that. OR... I can do all of it. I'm learning quite a bit about myself lately, mostly over the last year since my last long-term relationship ended. I may not know what I want entirely, but I most definitely know what I don't want.
I've learned that a habit of mine is dissecting every little thing that happens, especially when members of the opposite sex. For some reason, my brain processes events and texts and messages as if there's some other meaning, when sometimes things can just BE. There doesn't need to be any extraction of it. This also has lead to me putting everything about myself out there and on the table and sometimes almost asking, begging to be smashed into tiny pieces. Many people think that's silly. Why waste time and put yourself out there so much?
I may dissect things too much, I may put myself out there as if nobody has ever broken my heart before, and I may continue to hope that he's going to graciously flow through my door with lilies, knowing that I don't like roses, and kiss me with a dip that I'll probably ruin by slipping and falling on my ass... but at least that all means I still care. I still have hope. Some people in particular may think they've won. They think because they aren't putting themselves out there or letting people in, or even letting people stay in their lives that they won't get hurt. You may not get hurt, but you don't find happiness that way either. I may do a lot of stupid shit, but I'm a lot closer to love than a lot of people.
Part of my dissecting comes from growing up. When I was a kid, if a boy teased you or poked you or was in any way mean to you, it was because he liked you. I was told stories that implored me to wait for the third act twist, like fairy tales and rom-coms always showed in them. I was told that I'd be the exception to that rule that love happens the same way for everyone, that my prince charming would show up when the time was right. What they didn't tell me, and what I've learned, is how to read the signs, how to tell the ones that care from the ones that don't, how to make your own happy ending, how to be content and happy with yourself.
If a guy wants to be with a girl, he will make it happen. He will return the calls, he will hang on to the texts and keep his word. He will do SOMETHING to let you know that he cares, that he STILL cares, and that you are important to him. Even if it's platonic, if a person wants you in their life, they will make room for you to stay, and make the moves to make sure that you do just that.You will also go out of YOUR way to make sure they know you want them in your life. Every relationship takes effort from both sides. So, that person may still love you. They probably do love you more than they're even aware of. They probably think of you more than you have any idea, or give credit to. You may cross their mind during the day, you may even make them smile when they are dealing with something insurmountably difficult to explain. That's all wonderful and hopeful and probably true, but that's not what matters.
What matters is what they're doing about it, and if what they are doing about it is nothing, then you certainly shouldn't be doing anything. I know, it's not that easy. I have no delusions about life being black and white. I see life as one big grey area to be honest. Nothing is ever black and white, unless of course it's #FFFFFF or #000000 for all you web nerds out there.
I'm not in an emotional depression. I have no delusions about where any of my relationships with anyone in my life stand. I'm really just trying to get everything in my head out so I can think straight for the rest of the evening. If it helps someone in the process, then I'm more than happy to be there as well.
Monday, July 14, 2014
Goodness....
A friend of mine posted a picture on face-space today... and I quickly realized that it entirely encompasses my love life.
I've never gotten the fairy tale ending.
I quite often lose my shoes. This is partially because I don't like wearing them in the first place.
I clearly must have been intoxicated through the entirety of my previous relationships, because, well.... what the hell other explanation could there be for those colossal failures and my beyond poor choice in guys?
I realize at this point, I've made myself sound like a sloppy drunk that makes terrible life choices, and this simply isn't true. I'm most definitely not a drunk.
The life choices are improving drastically. For example, I've added a few more items to my "bettering myself" list including:
I've never gotten the fairy tale ending.
I quite often lose my shoes. This is partially because I don't like wearing them in the first place.
I clearly must have been intoxicated through the entirety of my previous relationships, because, well.... what the hell other explanation could there be for those colossal failures and my beyond poor choice in guys?
I realize at this point, I've made myself sound like a sloppy drunk that makes terrible life choices, and this simply isn't true. I'm most definitely not a drunk.
The life choices are improving drastically. For example, I've added a few more items to my "bettering myself" list including:
- Making a t-shirt quilt out of my SF Giants shirts
- Finishing the blanket I started crocheting last November
- Keeping my camera out to use it more regularly
- Binge watch Doctor Who and/or The Tenth Kingdom
- Finish the Color Run in 30 minutes. ish.
Ya know, and a bunch of other thrilling escapades.
Friday, July 11, 2014
Bringing me to my knees today.
You're the first face that I see, and the last thing I think about. You're the reason that I'm alive; You're what I can't live without. You never give up when I'm falling apart. Your arms are always open wide, and you're quick to forgive when I make a mistake. You're the light inside my eyes, you give me a reason to keep trying, and you bring me to my knees.
I don't deserve your love, but you give it to me anyway. I can't get enough.
You're everything I need, and when I walk away you take off running and come right after me. It's what you do...and I don't deserve you.
Saturday, July 5, 2014
Zero Gravity
I'm currently laying on the floor of the game room in my cousins' house in the middle of nowhere. Her baby shower / belated Fourth of July BBQ / mom & aunt's birthday celebration is commencing as we read. My cousin refused to have an actual baby shower with games and what not, so my mom convinced her to at least have a table with baby stuff.... Including a diaper cake, candy bar, and baby-themed cupcakes.
I'm laying on the floor upstairs in an attempt to avoid awkward conversations with ancient family members about where my life is headed. "Are you seeing anyone stable yet?... Don't worry, you're a nice girl, it will happen." "When are you going to settle down?" "Don't you ever want to have kids and a family?" "A new puppy hardly counts as stability," "I heard your last boyfriend was in jail... Is that true?" "How's work? Are you still doing the same thing at the same place?"
Directly above me is a skylight, and aside from the smoky air outside from a multitude of wildfires over the past 24 hours, the sky is clear and cloudless. It's always amazed me how looking at one spot makes everything else fade away. In this moment, all I can see is the blue sky. The window frame, the dusty edges of the window pane that are too high to dust regularly, and the entirety of the oversized bonus room around me fade away into the bright blue box.
I've focused on the blue box too much. I need to take a step back. I need to go outside.
Thursday, July 3, 2014
Another list.
Much like everyone else on this planet, at this point in my life, I've been through a lot. I have...
Had broken bones
Gotten promotions
Moved out of my parents' house three times
Tried bear stew
Swam in the pacific and the Atlantic
Had my heart broken
Owned a few different pets
Changed a flat tire
Bought my own car
Gotten myself into debt
Failed college classes
Majored and graduated with honors in the subject I previously failed
Loved more than I ever thought possible
Read an entire series of books
Had a Harry Potter marathon
Learned how much to not drink
... And a shit load more.
What I haven't done is probably a longer list. However, please don't assume I don't know what it's like. I may not have ever gotten married, but I have seen a quarter-century marriage succeed... and fall apart; I may not have had and raised my own child yet, but I do know what it's like to feel devastated when it gets taken away from you. My past experiences do not in any way trump anyone else's. I may not have had to go through a life altering event, but that doesn't mean I don't know what it's like to feel sad and depressed and angry and frustrated and relieved and overwhelmed all at the same time.
I've seen a parent go to rehab for prescription drug addiction, and I've seen friends die because they didn't get the help they needed, which was the point I realized that we are the only ones who make our choices. Whatever choices I make, I go to bed with. The man I love may be lying next to me, but he doesn't have to sleep with my brain constantly replaying decisions, good and bad, until the tape runs out. Just me.
Nobody will ever truly know what's on another person's mind, and nobody tells 100% of the truth 100% of the time. All you can do is hope that your relationships with the people you choose to keep in your life are strong enough to be honest and open with. You hope that even though one or both of you may be going through what seems like an endless road of hell, you will both come out on the other side in a better place. You hope that the other person knows how much you care for them and although you may get obsessively paranoid about things you have absolutely no control over, it's because you care, you're used to the good you've built with them, and you're hopeful that it really is just all in your head. You then hope they'll forgive you for exerting your stresses and insecurities onto them. You hope for reassurance that your 'person' will still love and accept you despite the ongoing list of flaws you've compiled over the years. You cross your fingers that this jump into the unknown will land you on a cotton candy cloud surrounded by pixie dust and not barreling toward a pit of boiling lava in a dark abyss, all alone, with nothing but scratches and bruises to keep you warm at night.
I'm looking for the silver lining at the moment. So far... it's knowing that the negative things are only temporary.
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
Wino Wednesdays
Leo graduated puppy school today! So proud of my little weirdo fox puppy! 
It took every piece of energy and every bit of restraint not to send it to BC and tell him all about it, especially since I missed Leo this weekend and when I got home he did a backflip off my thighs out of excitement.
Also, another event... Pookie has been hanging out with news anchor girl quite often lately. He told me she's coming over again and even SHAVED THE BEARD! I'm going to go ahead and credit the long-awaited (by the rest of us) shaving of the beard to BC... I forwarded that advice and two days later... Done! So much better.
It's wino Wednesday, however I'm skipping the wine tonight. Partly because I work tomorrow, partly because I haven't grocery shopped in over a month and we don't have any wine at home... Haha mostly because of work.
CVS pharmacy story to follow.
Take me back there...pleeeaaassseeeee
For some reason, l always sleep with a blanket around me. Not like covering me, but holding it and laying on it on a pillow. I have a hard time sleeping without it. I brought one of my favorite blankets on my recent weekend adventure, and I've gotta say, one of the best things about staying with someone you love and don't get to see nearly enough is that even whe you have to leave, your blanket still smells like them.
Must. Stay. Positive.
In an effort to work on that list and leave work at work, I'm going to vent now before I'm off the clock at 3:30.
I'm someone that puts 110% in to my work. I take pride in what I do. If my name is going to be on it, I need to be proud of it. That being said, I have been putting in 200% for the past eight years at the same job. I've had to fight for promotions and apply and compete for jobs I was already doing for years. Management has made it insanely difficult for me to promote, and although they say they acknowledge my work, it's hard to tell when the rest of my four-person team gets credit for everything. We recently had a vacancy on our team that we had to fill for two classifications higher than what I've spent two years fighting for, and i "didn't qualify" for that position, but have trained that new hire that makes twice as much as I do on the entire workload. Someone please explain this. ....please note this is probably why the state can't get out of debt.
Moreover, I go out of my way to schedule weekly update meetings with management so upper management can stay very involved in processes. Today, I'm apparently no longer part of the tam because the meeting "notes" that we're sent out had the other three team members on there with tasks, but not me. So, I'm wondering what happened in that I no longer get to do things since I've been busting my ass for this tam for years and have little to no help from management in advancing my career, and quite the opposite.
I've done all I can to maintain my composure, to remain calm and positive and not let it bother me, but I'm about to lose it today.
All I want to do is quit. Just straight up quit my job and move away.
Psychological Selfies
You can decide just about anything in your life. You can decide what to have for breakfast, which way to go to work, which friends to spend time with, really, almost every factor of your life you have control over. What none of us truly have complete control over is who we fall for and how certain people affect our lives. You just have to do your best to be okay.
I'm taking a mental inventory of my life right about now. For the first time in, well, forever, I understand things I didn't know existed, and I know what I want for my life. I haven't the slightest clue when it will all fall into place, but it will. I realized part of the problem I've had is that everyone puts a lot of responsibility on me, and always has, and don't get me wrong, that's a massive compliment that I wouldn't change for anything... But it left a lot less time for me to figure out how to relax and take care of myself. I've spent the past six years taking care of everyone except me, and because of that I'm feeling it now. Some days it's neat. I've developed this fifth-and-a-half sense that reveals itself as a twisting knot in the pit of my stomach, and somehow I just seem to know when something isn't right instinctively. My anxiety includes a need to make everyone happy, and if someone isn't, I tend to think its my fault. It's not.
I had a conversation with a very close friend last night (we're going to call this person BC... For the badass Canadian Sirius channel we discovered on the radio this weekend) that hit me pretty hard. I got to spend the weekend with BC, taking some risks, laughing at very dumb jokes, and letting chocolate for breakfast be okay. Easily one of the few moments I've felt like myself in my entire life. After the long haul back to my hometown, I think the stress hit both of us pretty hard, leading to a conversation that made me feel like a horrendous person. The last thing I'd ever want to do is hurt this person, and if I did I could never forgive myself. For the record, I didn't. The thought was terrifying and sickening. I wish I could go into detail, however I'm not allowed. I'm getting prettttttty great with confidentiality thanks to work.
So, for a little while, until things settle, I'm on my own. I'll probably be relying way too much on Nic and Kimber and Ads and Meus, but that's what friends are for right? Also, probably lots of moscato. LOTS. ......no, I'm not a wino. Yeah, you know who you are that was thinking it..... :P
First on my list... Taking care of myself, and by that I mean believing I'm worth it. This is a much bigger task than that sentence leads on. This weekend I realized I don't see the world the way most people do. I'm very trusting because I believe people are innately good. Not everyone is good, and not everyone is selfless. Not everyone is selfish either, and that's probably why I feel most myself around BC; we might process our emotionally fucked up-ness differently but we're both entirely selfless. For a long time I'd date guys that were selfish and mostly narcissists. I could never understand why they couldn't go out of their way for me like I did for them. I never went out of my way in expectation of reciprocation, but when that reciprocation failed to happen at all, I'd start questioning it. The repeated cycle of taking care of someone and doing everything possible to make sure they're happy left me empty, so empty that I was no longer happy. 72 hours changed a lot of that. I'm totally worth it, and I am incredibly grateful for such an amazing person to have shown me that.
I'm going to actually follow my previously established rules to live by, and add a few more.
... Drink more water. I'm a big water drinker as it is, but given water is a third oxygen, and oxygen enhances happiness and eases tension, I need to drink more.
... Take longer walks. Not only will this rehab my ankle, but the vitamin D will help me feel happy as well. Not to mention puppy loves to run in circles on the twenty foot leash.... In circles. You'd think I was breaking a tiny horse.
... Read. Read stimulating books, and read before bed. Just read MORE.
... Leave work at work. This is probably one of the biggest ones. I'm allowing myself about fifteen minutes when I get home to talk to whoever about work, and after that, it's done. Work stays at the office.
... Plan purchase and limit impulse buying. Actually, try to eliminate impulse buying. My credit score has been going up, and I want to keep it that way.
... Cut out the toxic. There are a few people I've grown up around that aren't good for me, and I need to accept that it's okay. Just because it's a relative does not mean I owe them anything. I get to choose my friends and who I spend my life with, and THOSE are the relationships that I want to focus on. (Note: this does not mean I don't appreciate my family and relatives, just that I now know which relationships I want to give my energy to.)
... When someone tells me they love me, believe it and trust it.
... Clean makeup, lots of sunscreen, and an abundance of body lotion.
... Stop worrying about other people judging me. Be more secure with myself. After all, as it was pointed out to me this weekend, I shouldn't be so insecure. Stop.
... Clean out anything I haven't worn in a year. Donate it.... Or make a t shirt quilt.
This is a work in progress, and patience laced with hope and optimism is about the only thing that's going to get me through it. Also, the fact that someone owes me. :P
I have to keep giggling about stupid jokes and hot dog monster nightmares to keep my tiny tear ducts for overflowing.
xoxo
KC
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