If you're ever my boss, I don't find it motivational when you spend most of the day in a back office talking to the ex girlfriend of the guy you've been cyber-fucking for the past month and a half. I also don't find it motivational when you blow off a phone call from YOUR boss so that you can keep talking to her.
In addition, arriving an hour late every day is not that motivational either.
I have a new job every 2-3 years, so you could end up being my boss. Just FYI.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Quote for today
At its best our age is an age of searchers and discoverers, and at its worst, an age that has domesticated despair and learned to live with it happily.
- Flannery O'Connor
- Flannery O'Connor
Monday, February 16, 2009
List of good things
I always used to do this when I was a child and it made me feel better on days when I lost my smile. It's a list of thirty things that I really like that I can have right now.
1. Great friends
2. A pretty sweater
3. A good haircut
4. DVDs starring Jenna Jameson
5. A good looking husband who is an excellent lay
6. An adorable dog
7. Clothes to dress my adorable dog in
8. Cute shoes
9. Cake
10. Comfy yoga pants
11. A cool phone
12. A borderline creepy addiction to Facebook
13. Books
14. Nice perky breasts
15. Lots of bars to drink in
16. SpongeBob SquarePants
17. My SpongeBob SquarePants thermos
18. Beer
19. Wine
20. Absinthe
21. Torchy's Tacos
22. East Side Pies
23. Beauty products
24. Small feet
25. Making people laugh
26. New (to me) records
27. My wicked cool record player
28. Virgin Island Water by Creed
29. Back rubs
30. Oral sex
I do feel better. Maybe I should just do this every day.
1. Great friends
2. A pretty sweater
3. A good haircut
4. DVDs starring Jenna Jameson
5. A good looking husband who is an excellent lay
6. An adorable dog
7. Clothes to dress my adorable dog in
8. Cute shoes
9. Cake
10. Comfy yoga pants
11. A cool phone
12. A borderline creepy addiction to Facebook
13. Books
14. Nice perky breasts
15. Lots of bars to drink in
16. SpongeBob SquarePants
17. My SpongeBob SquarePants thermos
18. Beer
19. Wine
20. Absinthe
21. Torchy's Tacos
22. East Side Pies
23. Beauty products
24. Small feet
25. Making people laugh
26. New (to me) records
27. My wicked cool record player
28. Virgin Island Water by Creed
29. Back rubs
30. Oral sex
I do feel better. Maybe I should just do this every day.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Am I the only one?
Does all this talk about steroids and eight babies and domestic abuse among young Hollywood really surprise everyone but me?
I had experience with all these things when I was in High School. Are eight babies really that different than four, or conceiving them in an old uterus? Are we really SHOCKED that the most famous athlete in baseball, who has incredible amounts of pressure put on him all the time, resorted to taking supplements that guys in my high school used to take? And come on, we've all known (or been) that couple that gets drunk and yells at each other and then calls the cops, right?
Maybe I'm out of line, but it seems like a slow news week to me. If we would just learn to accept that adoption is an option, leave government out of major league sports and stop expecting rich 19 year olds to act differently than regular 19 year olds, maybe we could focus on the important things: that Lil Wayne was like totally ROBBED at the Grammy's. Whatever.
I had experience with all these things when I was in High School. Are eight babies really that different than four, or conceiving them in an old uterus? Are we really SHOCKED that the most famous athlete in baseball, who has incredible amounts of pressure put on him all the time, resorted to taking supplements that guys in my high school used to take? And come on, we've all known (or been) that couple that gets drunk and yells at each other and then calls the cops, right?
Maybe I'm out of line, but it seems like a slow news week to me. If we would just learn to accept that adoption is an option, leave government out of major league sports and stop expecting rich 19 year olds to act differently than regular 19 year olds, maybe we could focus on the important things: that Lil Wayne was like totally ROBBED at the Grammy's. Whatever.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
So....
I changed the name of my blog to more accurately reflect the way I currently feel about myself and the world.
For anyone who might be reading this, I'll explain a bit.
The Sun also Rises was Hemingway's first novel and it tracks the exploits of a group of expatriate friends from Paris to Northern Spain and back. The central event in the story is a bullfight. I won't go into the plot details too much, because I think it's a pretty important read for anyone of our generation. This particular quote comes from a minor character who is quite drunk. Like any literary quote, it can be taken a variety of ways.
The character who says this quote is very very drunk at the time of its utterance, and I am often drunk, so I like that about it. I also think it's a very succinct way of expressing disappointment in something on a very deep level. Bulls, more than any other animal, are supposed to represent masculinity, virility and power. They are also a worthy adversary. Only by fighting and conquering a worthy adversary can one be sure of one's own competence level, and by extension, the purpose of one's existence. This takes on an added dimension when considering the whole driving force behind the novel itself is the journey to see the bullfight and experience true passion (or aficion, as Hemingway describes it). Without worthy bulls, the whole journey becomes an exercise in futility.
This speaks to me on many levels. I sometimes feel like in order to define my own purpose, I must find a worthy cause: a bull with balls. Other times, I think I am the bull in question and I wonder what Hemingway would say about me, about the state of my affairs. I wonder if rescinding my power to an amorphous concept like "purpose" is just another way of rationalizing my cowardice. After all, if I saw a bull with balls, would I even know what to do with it or would I run in the other direction, throwing off any red clothing along the way, then go to the local bar and get shitfaced on local wine, only to comment later on the apparent problems with the bulls I had in my sights?
For anyone who might be reading this, I'll explain a bit.
The Sun also Rises was Hemingway's first novel and it tracks the exploits of a group of expatriate friends from Paris to Northern Spain and back. The central event in the story is a bullfight. I won't go into the plot details too much, because I think it's a pretty important read for anyone of our generation. This particular quote comes from a minor character who is quite drunk. Like any literary quote, it can be taken a variety of ways.
The character who says this quote is very very drunk at the time of its utterance, and I am often drunk, so I like that about it. I also think it's a very succinct way of expressing disappointment in something on a very deep level. Bulls, more than any other animal, are supposed to represent masculinity, virility and power. They are also a worthy adversary. Only by fighting and conquering a worthy adversary can one be sure of one's own competence level, and by extension, the purpose of one's existence. This takes on an added dimension when considering the whole driving force behind the novel itself is the journey to see the bullfight and experience true passion (or aficion, as Hemingway describes it). Without worthy bulls, the whole journey becomes an exercise in futility.
This speaks to me on many levels. I sometimes feel like in order to define my own purpose, I must find a worthy cause: a bull with balls. Other times, I think I am the bull in question and I wonder what Hemingway would say about me, about the state of my affairs. I wonder if rescinding my power to an amorphous concept like "purpose" is just another way of rationalizing my cowardice. After all, if I saw a bull with balls, would I even know what to do with it or would I run in the other direction, throwing off any red clothing along the way, then go to the local bar and get shitfaced on local wine, only to comment later on the apparent problems with the bulls I had in my sights?
Monday, February 9, 2009
rainy days and mondays
I feel empty today. This is not so terribly different from any other day, but usually the empty makes me feel sorry for things that aren't my fault, or it causes me to try to fill it with something.
Today my emptiness is causing everything around me to resonate really loud inside. Even the sound of voices is echoing loud in my head and making it hurt. The rain woke me up last night and usually it soothes me back to sleep, but not this time. Something is off. Something is wrong. I'm either getting a migraine or I'm getting ready to figure something out. The last time I felt this way, it was right before I found out that everyone in my family had been lying to me for years.
If I told my husband all of this, he would say that I am just trying to rationalize away what I know to be true: that I should quit my job because I hate it. While I have no affection for my work, I don't actually know that I should quit. My husband is sure that I should quit because he's tired of me having a reason to be irritated. He thinks that if I can simply eliminate all of the negative things in my life, then I can focus instead on doing things that will make us happy. That might be true, I suppose. He's trying to be supportive. He knows that I wish I was talented and that I wish that I could produce something really great. He loves me, so he thinks I should really try. He doesn't understand that I don't really have what it takes and that the emotional investment I would have to make in order to produce something with merit could destroy the brief and fragile sanity that I am clinging to these days.
He really does love me so much. He says I'm too hard on myself and that he actually does understand what I'm going through. I think he may have some insight into what is going on with me, but at the same time it is so difficult for me to believe that anyone could love me if they really knew me. I feel like there is a deep chasm inside me and I am afraid that if I let the people I care about get too close, they will fall in and be lost to me forever. I don't know why I feel like I have that kind of power. Maybe it's all that untapped potential my Dad used to tell me I was wasting. Maybe I am just rambling. It's a good thing no one is reading this.
Today my emptiness is causing everything around me to resonate really loud inside. Even the sound of voices is echoing loud in my head and making it hurt. The rain woke me up last night and usually it soothes me back to sleep, but not this time. Something is off. Something is wrong. I'm either getting a migraine or I'm getting ready to figure something out. The last time I felt this way, it was right before I found out that everyone in my family had been lying to me for years.
If I told my husband all of this, he would say that I am just trying to rationalize away what I know to be true: that I should quit my job because I hate it. While I have no affection for my work, I don't actually know that I should quit. My husband is sure that I should quit because he's tired of me having a reason to be irritated. He thinks that if I can simply eliminate all of the negative things in my life, then I can focus instead on doing things that will make us happy. That might be true, I suppose. He's trying to be supportive. He knows that I wish I was talented and that I wish that I could produce something really great. He loves me, so he thinks I should really try. He doesn't understand that I don't really have what it takes and that the emotional investment I would have to make in order to produce something with merit could destroy the brief and fragile sanity that I am clinging to these days.
He really does love me so much. He says I'm too hard on myself and that he actually does understand what I'm going through. I think he may have some insight into what is going on with me, but at the same time it is so difficult for me to believe that anyone could love me if they really knew me. I feel like there is a deep chasm inside me and I am afraid that if I let the people I care about get too close, they will fall in and be lost to me forever. I don't know why I feel like I have that kind of power. Maybe it's all that untapped potential my Dad used to tell me I was wasting. Maybe I am just rambling. It's a good thing no one is reading this.
Monday, February 2, 2009
New project
So in an effort to attempt to cleanse myself of all my negative energy - I'm going to write down all the terrible things I think about myself in a little red notebook and then tear the pages out and throw them away - or possibly light them on fire. The idea is to see how long it takes me to get through the notebook. There are 70 pages, college ruled. I have a feeling that if I force myself to fill every page, front and back that it should take me about two weeks.
I have tried to use this blog as a way to do this, but I don't think therapeutic blogging is really for me - after all I can't even bring myself to post my name or tell anyone I know the name of the site. It's actually kind of pathetic. I tell people I have a blog and then tell them it's anonymous so that they will search for it. If I wasn't such an ardent self-loather I would call myself a narcissist. Sadly, I don't think anyone actually wants to read what I write. I think it's because I'm completely self-deprecating at all times and probably seem so utterly ridiculous that people think I couldn't possibly have anything to say. I'm ridiculous.
I'm not sure whether the notebook is a good idea or a really really bad one. I guess we'll see. I just don't want to feel like I need to wear a caftan to the lake and/or start starving myself again. I am already kind of starving myself - that doesn't even make any sense. Starving yourself HAS to be all or nothing, you can't "kind of" starve. I guess I could more accurately say that I'm thinking a lot about starving myself. I am getting to the point that I'm pretty sure it would help. I think if I could get all this negative out, then I might not feel so full all the time. I might feel hungry for things that will actually sustain me instead of consuming me. I hope this new idea won't cause me to consume myself even faster. I suppose if I can't feel good about how I look in a bikini, at least everyone else can enjoy it.
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