John Tesh is Awful

All this week, I’ve been leaving work early. Don’t worry. I got my boss’s verbal approval before he left on vacation… Although, if I lose my job, it’ll be a safe guess as to why. Tomorrow, I’m staying until the end of day, because, you know, it’ll be quiet? Probably. Also, there’s the work I’ve not been doing this week. Right. Anyway. As I was driving home today, I saw a little person taking a piggy-back ride on the back of a bigger person. And I thought it’d be nice to have a big person for piggy-backs.

Having always been a big person, I don’t remember anyone ever offering me a piggy-back. In fact, I don’t recall ever having one. It’s not that I’m bitter or anything. It’s just either my memories have been erased or it never happened. Either way the result are the same. Me being jealous of the little person riding on the back of a big person up quite a steep hill. No one likes to walk up hills. If there was someone who was big enough, said person could hire her/his self out to take people up hills on their back. I bet it’d become all the rage.

It’s not that I’m lazy, I’m just a thinker. But then the poor big person giving the piggy-backs would always have to walk up the hill. I’m sad for this non-existent piggy-back giver. For this person will never know the joy of piggy-back. Like me. No. There’s no countertransference going on at all. I mean because I’ve never had one and there’s probably no way I’ll ever get one. But I’m not sitting around here moping. I’m thinking of new and inventive ways to get around walking up hills AND getting adults piggy-backs. Because that’s what I do. Think outside the box.

Aaaand this is what happens when I have multiple days in a row of going out. A clear sign I should spend the weekend sleeping. Also as you can clearly tell, the title has nothing to do with the actual topic of this blog, because you know, why not?

FINALLY!!!

I saw The Force Awakens last Wednesday, but with all the hoopla about Christmas etc, I feel like I can now write about it. Also I needed time to process what I saw. Thus, finally, I put words to what I’ve experienced and seen.

Recently, I have struggled with balancing hope and reality and what has been. Lets just say, hoping isn’t necessarily my thing. Catastrophisizing, now that I’m excellent at. You have a semi-bad situation? Well, let me make the worse possible scenario out of it.  I’m pretty sure in some circles that’s considered a super power, and I need to find said circles so I could be their leader. When I saw the first trailer for The Force Awakens, my super powers took over at the small glimmer of hope. I forced myself to remember how much hope I had for The Phantom Menace and looked how well that turned out.

After the first trailer came another trailer. And then the first trickling of reviews, which weren’t bad. But still, episodes I through III were in the forefront of my mind so I didn’t get my hopes too high. I then read a friend of mine’s review, and since he’s a huge geek, I trusted his opinion. He said it was the movie he had been waiting for since The Empire Strikes Back. Huge, right? It was when I read this that I let the hope exist within my heart. It was similar to those times when you’ve been unsure about a new person in your life, and s/he does something to make you realize s/he isn’t going to suddenly sprout horns and a tail. Still though, I kept my expectations to a minimum as I entered the cinema.

Resisting the urge for any spoilers as most people don’t like them… Then the credits rolled. And I was NOT disappointed. I was relieved. It got to the point where I was a bit giddy. Also, suddenly, I became excited for the upcoming films. I’d love to go on about what I think will happen, but I’m trying not to be that dick. So, I’m going to end this now. And if you haven’t seen it yet but want to, do it!

Fighting the Plague

As I mentioned in an earlier blog, the dick I sat next to at the symphony gave me his cold (probably not, but I’m blaming him anyway). I’ve now been sick over a week, and like every illness with me, it has made its way into my lungs. It sounds like I’ve been smoking a pack a day at least for the past twenty years. My past 2 meals have consisted of cheese and crackers. I tried to kill all the germs and what not with the beautiful combination of cider and firewater. It didn’t work.

I did take a nap today. I slept like shit last night. I kept having dreams about topics I don’t want to think about any more and/or right now. I fell asleep watching CinemaSins. So my nap dreams consisted of the narrator’s voice and dinging. I didn’t mind them so much. It made me giggle. Much better than the crap I dealt with over the night. Anyway, after my nap I felt like eating, which was a vast improvement from this morning.

My mom thinks I should go to the doctor. And when she told me that I told her I thought she should shut the fuck up. I kid. Totally joking. I wouldn’t say that to her face. I just hate going to the doctor. A lot. It’s never a really good experience. Usually, it’s a guessing game with a load of tests. It’s even worse when you have medicine allergies. So, their “cures” borderline on something made in a Hogwart’s potions class. I may as well just let my body fight it without choking down the nastiness that costs way too much. I mean so what if I get pneumonia! And I won’t be able to breathe for at least another three weeks.

So, I will continue in my misery. I may be a bit mellow dramatic right now though. I’m a terrible sick person. The rest of the world should be miserable if I don’t feel good. I’m almost as bad as your average man. Almost… not quite. After all this chick is actually wearing clothes and has been out and about. Not to mention, I bounced the nephews on my knees. Stuff like that. Also, the big nephew has what I have so I totally shared that one. Considering how much shit I’ve caught from him in the past 5 years, it was about time the tables were turned.

Obligatory Christmas Greeting

Go family time! Ha ha ha. Just kidding. i’m about to lose my shit. It’s not that I don’t love my family, because I do. I really do. It’s just been about a lot of family in the past 24 hours. And once again I met someone for the first time in my pajamas. He’s my sister-in-law’s brother. Luckily we had the only gender in our sibling grouping connection, which apparently makes up both snarky. At least according to my sis-in-law. To top off the evening, I made a trip to Children’s ER.

It’s becoming a tradition. Last year, the big nephew made the trip because he couldn’t breathe. This year, the small one was starting to get cold sores again. So, my sister-in-law asked me to go with her, and because I’m a sucker, I agreed. It should be noted the small one got a set of emergency vehicles that all make noise. In order for him to not lose his shit, we brought a couple of said vehicles. Goodness. I can still hear the sirens in my ears and the horns blaring. It’s a clear sign I should grab a bottle of cider and add a couple shots of fire water.

Yes, this one is short. But ya know. Christmas.

Can I Write This in 10 Minutes?

I wonder if I can say all that is on my mind in 10 minutes. I wonder if I have the speed in my fingers and typing ability to get it all out before I leave for the late night carol service. So, here it goes…

Homeboy from the previous blog(s) said I was just okay when he sent the lets just be friends text. And I’m having a rough time getting over it. I mean, logically I know I’m better than just okay. I know I’m fucking fabulous and adorable. People I’ve known for much longer than 6 weeks have told me so. The same people who have suggested perhaps it’s not me, it’s him. On the other hand, it makes me question if there isn’t something wrong with me.

Lets get this out of the way. I know I’m not perfect. Shit, I probably could find endless fodder for my blog just about how imperfect I am and all the stupid ass shit I do. However, in spite of or maybe even because of, I know I’m a solid 9.4 on the random scale I just made up for my level of quality. There was something shocking in seeing the words, “you’re just okay” coming from someone I thought liked me. Pardon, he does like me, just not well enough.

I agreed to be friends with him in hopes of becoming the exception to the rule. What rule you ask… I have no fucking clue. But the exception would be me watching him realize he was mistaken in his assessment of me. Except… I’m not going to be the exception. And now I’m not even positive I want to be. Because if he were to change his mind about me, then it would prove he has poor judgement and/or is wishy washy. I’m still intrigued by how I’m just okay, but he still wants to be friends and still thinks I’m hot and still has a good time with me. Anyone out there care to explain that one to me? Because lawd knows I’m not going to approach him about it. I’m just choosing to believe the male of the species is somehow deficient  in their logic.

The Eve of Christmas Eve

In less than a half hour officially it will be Christmas Eve. Holy shit!!! Excuse me whilst I have a minor panic attack about the gifts I still need to wrap… and buy. It’s not my fault I’m used to buying a gift for one of my brothers after Christmas due to him normally having to work on Christmas. Perhaps I ought to ask my mom if him and his wife will actually be around. Yes. That sounds like a good idea. This is the first time in ages when I have had a job and the first time I’ve had a full time job in my chosen profession.

I realize that this may be a mind fuck to some of you, but apparently the holidays are triggering. Shhhhh lets just sit with that fact for a moment. Right moving on. And because they are triggering, my clients have either been super needy or super isolative. (Hmmm my spellcheck is telling me that’s not a word. Well, fuck you spellcheck it is now.) Either way it’s super stressful, because I know the clients avoiding me are probably the ones who need the extra support. And the ones who are super needy are always stressful. It all makes for a not very Christmasy time for me.

In a previous blog, I mentioned my tradition of sitting alone in the dark watching the old Christmas movies. In an even earlier blog, I mentioned the magic of made for TV Christmas movies, which I comparatively speaking I haven’t been able to watch too many of. I guess I never realized how much these things played into my feeling of Christmas. For various reasons, I haven’t had a lot of time to myself lately, which is also part of my holiday tradition. I was talking about it tonight where I plan on being alone for a solid portion of Christmas Eve, and I’m looking forward to it. Thanks work.

Something that seems to be a new tradition however, is the Christmas cold. For the past couple of years, I’ve been sick at Christmas, and it has happened again this year!!! Actually, I don’t remember if I was actually sick last year or if I was just really depressed. Either way, the results were quite similar. Feeling drained. Not having a ton of energy to wrap presents. Wishing I felt differently. Yup. That pretty much sums it all up. I realize there are tons of things to be grateful for and there are a people in my life who love and adore me and think I’m more than okay. But instead of going to work tomorrow, I’d really just like to nap and be isolative with The Little Drummer and similar.

I Choose to Place the Blame Elsewhere

I’m dying of the plague. Okay, it’s probably not the plague. And I’m pretty sure whatever I sniffly sniffles I have isn’t killing me. Also, I’m 60% completely positive I’m not feeling that shitty. Still though, this I know, I am not feeling my best. Thanks a lot dick at the symphony. That’s right the blame goes to the fella sitting next to me at The Messiah on Saturday. It doesn’t even matter I was feeling like shit Friday night and a bit more sniffly on Saturday during the day. NO! It’s his fault. (insert accusatory, dramatic finger pointing here) Dick.

First off, he came late. So, for the entire first half, I had some nice space going on. But then he came along and took up that space with his sprawling legs. Secondly, he was wearing jeans and a baseball cap. Jeans aren’t so bad if they’re paired with a nice shirt and shoes. But a polo shirt? Not so much. And it’s just bad form to keep your baseball hat indoors if you’re at a fancy ass place like the symphony. Third, this fella had a water bottle with him. Everyone knows no food or beverage is allowed in the auditorium. It’s just common knowledge. And finally, he had the sniffles and kept sniffling and coughing. Dick.

I’m not even mentioning the fact he and his lady caller didn’t stand during the Hallelujah Chorus. Even if it’s a tradition since the first time it was performed. Whatev. So, basically I’m blaming him for my scratchy throat and drippy nose for not knowing the rules. I can admit that I’m a snob when it comes to such things. In addition, I will also freely admit I need someone to blame for nearly falling asleep during one of my sessions today, because I certainly can’t take responsibility for getting myself to bed on time. Dick.

Cilantro and Cherries

Six weeks ago I met someone, Homeboy I shall call him. There were good times and bad times. But it always seemed more difficult than what I thought it should be. And yet when we were together, things made sense to me. The rest of it didn’t matter when we held hands. He made me laugh. I made him laugh. It was fun. Then when we weren’t together, my history told me that when I didn’t hear from him for  a couple days that he was on his way out. And when I did hear from him, even though it made me laugh or smile usually, my brain started dissecting the meaning of the word the. I hated being like that. The other morning on my way to work, I compared whatever stage we were at in this whole thing to the annoying, itchy, questioning if it was worth stage my tattoo was in at the moment. Except, I know my tattoo is worth it.

Fast-forward to last night, after a difficult couple of weeks at work and with him, I get a hey lets be friends text. Actually technically speaking, it was a hey lets be friends; maybe someday I’ll be interested enough in you to date you. Right! He claimed I had out-awkwarded him, but um no, with that one comment he got the crown of the most awkward shit to say. However, since I’m me, I called him out on it with my own brand of sass. There was no way I could be more awkward than him, so I sassed him up with, “Dude, you saying someday here, is like me saying someday I’ll like cilantro or cherries.”

We exchanged texts for the rest of the night. We agreed to be friends. I don’t know how things will continue to play out with him. But I do know I will be okay and someday isn’t an option now. There is relief and sadness and irritation and anger and happiness; basically your garden variety of emotional clusterfuck. However, since I agreed to be his friend, I will be as an amazing friend to him as I am to all my other friends. Seriously, all my friends who know about the situation and the newest development has now threatened to kick his ass or something similar. So really, it is for his benefit that I agreed to be his friend.

Still it’s strange to think about. Something I had so much hope for at one point in time is now completely dead. However, there is something new and different that could be good. I’m not quite at the hopeful stage of being friends with Homeboy. He could surprise me once more and turn out to be a really good friend though or he could have run out his surprise quota and turn into someone I regret meeting. Only time will give a detailed explanation of how I end up to be okay.

Thoughts on The Little Drummer Boy

The Little Drummer Boy is my favorite Christmas movie. It makes me cry every time I watch it. That’s right this claymation made for TV movie from the 70s or 80s (wait I just IMDb’d it… made in 68, even worse!!) can make this cynical asshole of a woman cry. It happens every year, the first time I watch it for the season. Of course, I always make sure I’m alone when I do get around to watch it.

This year I’m late on my game. This whole having a job thing makes it difficult to do my usual Christmas traditions…. hanging out in my pajamas all day watching the 4-movies that came in a certain set. And usually this happened in the dark. Because you know nothing says Merry Christmas like being in the dark and alone. However, it is a bit fitting with the entire premise of the movie.

So, just in case you’re not aware, The Little Drummer Boy is about a boy who hates people and life in general. The only beings he love are his animal friends and the drum his parents gave him right before they were slaughtered by desert vagabonds. Then through a series of what could only be described as trauma, the little drummer boy’s camel friend ends up being sold to the three wisemen. Therefore, he follows them all to Bethlehem.

As you can clearly tell, the little drummer boy is a dark and stormy little guy. And I often relate to him, especially on my own more darker, more depressing days. So, when he sees the Baby Jesus and his heart changes, it makes me cry. Like perhaps some day I’d not be the dark and stormy person I am. If only I had a drum to play for the Baby Jesus.

Eat Your Cabbage, Ya Irish Girl

I realize this is the second Wednesday in a row where I’ve not posted a blog until later on Thursday. It’s just been a bit crazy with life and work. Apparently, I’m fried, at least according to a co-worker. I feel it should be mentioned co-worker herself has been fried since I’ve known her, so maybe I caught it from her. Because I’m pretty sure that’s how it works. Or it could be I need to start sleeping more at night and drinking less shitty tequila.

Actually, I haven’t been drinking shitty tequila on a regular basis. That was just last night in the form of happy hour margaritas. However, they were margaritas with a friend from school whom I hadn’t seen in ages, so it was totally worth it. Thus, I didn’t write yesterday’s blog until now. We had our work holiday party in her neighborhood, and since her hood is a pain in the ass to get to, I figured I had better see her whilst there. It was good to see her, even though she had to go to group therapy after a couple hours of hanging out, so she dropped me off at the mall and picked me up after.

Dress shopping at the mall this time of the year is awful. Let me rephrase that. Dress shopping anytime of the year is awful. The anytime of the year is awful. But you add Christmas etc to the equations, and suddenly two already overwhelming experiences become even worse. I looked for a dress a several different shops and finally decided to wait outside where I was going to meet my friend, because I couldn’t handle the noise and crowds and the sequins. Good lord, the sequins. Something my life isn’t missing at all is sequins or rhinestones or anything that makes my chest sparkle.