I know, I know. it's been a while. In fact, it's been about a month since my last blog entry. Well, a lot has been happening, let me tell you what! The majority of everything was significantly dominated by one event which occurred two weeks ago, and the was the wedding of my friend Tori.
About a week before the last entry, maybe less, I got a text message from her, panicking because she had no plans for music for the ceremony. It was one of those things we had talked about quite a few times while I was in Alabama, because music is a huge part of both their lives. To start, the only class we ever had together was band. She went on to do behind-the-scenes things in the music industry, and I've just never learned how to keep music from being a main character in the story of my life, which is a very similar case for her. But somehow, some way, the music slipped through the cracks. Forgive me for saying, but I half-expected it.
When I got the impression that she was getting too much push from her Mother-in-law, Tori tended to let that issue slip down the priority list. My speculation is because things like the music are an easy fix in the end. Is it important to people like us? Oh yes, it's critical! Maybe that's why I wanted to have a solid idea of what she wanted, and by the time I left Alabama in early August, I felt I had a fairly concrete idea of what she wanted. We would go out, taking our walks or going out to splash around in my neighborhood's pool, and listen to music. Every once in a while, a song would come on and she'd say, "I'd love it if this song played at my wedding."
Welcome to me, the walking rolodex. I filed those little songs away, kept it tucked away just in case. The real breakthrough, I felt, was when she was talking about the hotel and her dress, and the feel she wanted. The answer: Vintage. BOOM. So when i got that little text message, I got to work.
The next day, I called Tori to see how she was doing, and let her know that I had spent a decent two hours throwing together a playlist of 200 songs I felt were appropriate for the mood she wanted to set. Tommy Dorsey, Count Basie, Glenn Miller, Frank Sinatra (of course), the best of the best! I started with the 1960s and didn't look forward, only back, all the way to the 1920s. I even found a compilation of British wartime Jazz in an effort to nod to Tori's family, who are all English.
Now, would anyone else know that it was the Devonshire Dance Band that performed that last old-timey song? No. If anyone had known that I would have been shocked. I like to think that my specialty, in this instance, is details. Details, details, details. I thrive off subtleties, and I think it may have been overwhelming when, the day after I just completely took over (because I did, there's no denying it), I was asking Tori for specifics about how long the segments of the wedding were going to be. No lie, I already had a plan. Crooners and recognizable favorites for cocktails, non-vocal jazz and big band to take a back seat to conversation during dinner, and brighter, fun little clips like the Sugar Foot Stomp for dancing. Yeah, it was involved. Yes, I could have backed off a little bit.
That was the thing. I had watched and witnessed phone conversations and been a party to lots of the goings-on that weren't going so smoothly (Jewish M-I-L, 'nough said? yup.). She may be a little miffed at me for saying this, but this is just the fluff from my head. I hated how much she was being fought. Control freaks, I get. LA people who aren't used to hearing no, I get it. Cultural and religious stereotypes unfortunately playing out as true? TRAGIC, but not shocking. Especially when that kind of overbearing nature is falling across a wedding. WEDDING, PEOPLE!! oy. It was rough to watch. So rough. This single experience, after working in hotel and dealing with weddings there almost every weekend, has destroyed me. I will not be doing this, and she knows it. I've been vocal about it, and this is the last time she'll ever hear it from me, because now it's all in the past. For the sake of you all knowing what went on, that's what went on.
It really kills you to have to watch a friend go through that. You never want to see tears of frustration or hear about quibbles with the fiance. It's not fun at all, because you want it to be a perfect thing, though it's already on a wobbly foundation. A wedding being planned in Colorado from Alabama and re-planned from LA? That's awful, and she held it up the best she could. i held her up as best I could, trying to get her mind off it and back on today. If she needed to sit around, drink tea, work on crosswords, and watch Deadliest Catch (yes, I had a viewing buddy) and Being Human, you can be damn sure that I was going to facilitate that. Every day. Trip to Nashville? Fine by me. Someone had to make sure she was going to be alright, and I took it upon myself to try and cheer her up. That's what I do.
So then the music fell to me, and I went right back into my role. Any burden I could take from her and put on my own shoulders, I did it. That was the music. It was mine, and I took it as seriously as i take a job, because something, ONE THING, had to be hers, and I'd guard it and say no and keep it hers. She came over in the week leading up to the wedding and we had a little listening party, and I think the relief just washed over her. she got to listen, she what she liked, whether she thought a particular song would be better for dancing or cocktails, axing songs that she didn't like. Giving the control back. I like to think that little bit of sanity from a control freak (me) helped in that last week.
You should have seen it, I picked up Tori and Zach from the airport on Saturday, one week prior to the wedding. Tori got in my little car, clicked her seat belt, and melted into the seat. She was gone. It made me feel really good that someone has that kind of trust in my abilities, even when it's just. I said I'd be there, and I was. That was it. Well, not IT it. I even had a container of grapes in the car for the boy who's always hungry. Prepared? oh yeah. So we made our way back to Monument, where they very nicely took me out to dinner at the local Chinese restaurant. And neither of them could even decide what to order. I think Zach picked out the cashew chicken, but otherwise... yes, i ordered. It was hilarious, and also indicative of the kind of dynamic I've established with those crazy lovebirds.
I'm a force, in good ways and bad ways. If you know anything about me, you know that I have no problem acknowledging what I am; at times, I will describe myself as a sledgehammer or a hurricane. That week, I was a rottweiler. Loyal, loving, alert, and ready to tear out your throat if you tried anything to upset or frazzle my friend. Welcome to me. And that's how the gig went. Most of it happened before the ceremony, in my opinion. I just hit the play button and made sure Tori was properly glossed through the night, fetched her flats when she was tired of the heels, that kind of thing. I'm a pretty good dog. Before the ceremony, I was worked up, running errands, getting the music volume leveled, finding people who needed to be found, seeing my own set up, talking to staff, all kinds of fun stuff.
And let me tell you what. It had all piled up so much, the emotions, the stress, the excitement at the day FINALLY arriving... I totally cried during the ceremony. I know. Had to get it all out, because it had been a long 9 (count 'em) months of wedding-ness. Lots of stress, lots of seeing your friend going through some massive ups and downs. The harassment over the invitations, the utter joy of having the photographer she wanted booked (he's amazing, just wait til you see the pictures), and the few times when we could just be old friends with a lot of history, being our same stupid selves, splashing around in the pool like little kids and not think about the wedding. Just the day, the clouds rolling in, and what to have for lunch.
Nope. I'm never going to do it. But I wouldn't trade this experience for anything. And now I have my obligatory two witnesses for when I elope, because you know they owe me big time. BIG TIME.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
Lies: Part One
Oh, ominous title. Lies. Untruths. Falsehoods. Deceptions. We've all been there, haven't we? Someone says something that just doesn't ring true, or mentions something contrary to what we personally know is the truth. I have to split this post up into two separate entries that I've been thinking about for a few weeks, because i have two very clear, very distinct directions about the same topic, so bear with me if you can!
I actually started thinking about this for a good reason. Well, somewhat good. I have this thing, when I get really attached to something (as in fall head over heels in love/ borderline obsession), I almost always take a step back and ask myself why. Why, Cait, did you get so involved in this one song, or that TV show? All four of those TV shows? If you've been following the blog (thanks, btw), I've mentioned a few times how much I love Deadliest Catch on the Discovery channel, and it's the most recent instance of me sitting back and really thinking about why I got so involved with this show about a handful of men crab fishing.
After a considerable amount of thought, it finally dawned on me while I was IMing a friend of mine about some random topic. Probably her cat that looks like Hitler. The answer was very simple, and very straightforward. Of all the rubbish that's on TV, selling one thing or scripted "reality" shows that for some odd reason still surprises people to find out it's fake (The Hills, anyone? saw that coming a mile away!), this one show feels honest. I would say it is honest, but that's not really something I can prove or disprove conclusively. My gut tells me it's honest, and I relish that feeling of seeing these people, on good days and on the worst days, go through the mechanics of what are their typical lives, and not question the veracity of what they say. Sure, you know there's hijinks going on, and the guys are usually pretty up front about it. Hell, a show with that many sets of brothers, you know there's stuff going down, and occasional elaborations of the truth, and lots and lots of pissing matches. Isn't that the nature of brothers? Sure it is!
I just started watching season 5 on DVD (series 5 for my English pals) to get all my ducks in a row, as I've caught most of it but out of order. If you don't watch, lots of stuff happened. Lots of big damage to ships, tons of money spent paying for repairs, some really bad storms, a couple really nasty accidents, the sinking of one boat with several deaths , and one guy discovering the loss of a sibling back home while he was at sea. It's intense. By the end of the first episode I was choked up, and within two episodes I was sobbing my little heart out. If there's one thing to know about me, it's that I never cry during movies, or during TV shows, with LOST pretty much being the grand exception, and only in the last two seasons, as well as Harry Potter. I allowed myself to be immersed in those fantastic worlds and actually felt for completely made-up people. I cried for a house-elf, for goodness' sake!
But I cry during DC. I cry a lot, because of the hurt and the pain those guys endure in every was imaginable, and they just soldier on because they have to. And truthfully, I don't know if I could suck it up like they do and carry on. Thinking back to high school and the student losses we suffered, I was a wreck my junior year. A car accident killed two students, one of whom was a girl from my own circle of girlfriends. It tore me to pieces, and really messed me up for a long time. I'm still getting back to liking the winter holiday season again, because the accident was at the beginning of December, and for a few years I wanted nothing to do with it. I still hate how early decorations come out in retail establishments (Christmas stuff out on Halloween when I worked at Macy's, ri-effing-diculous), and most winters I go through a rough patch of depression. I'm fine with admitting it, it doesn't make me a lesser or weaker person to say it, and every year gets easier and a little bit better.
But suddenly being in a place of 'I can relate to you, random guy on this show,' really made me appreciate how they do what they do, year in and year out. Are they hurting? Of course. but do they keep on keepin' on, get their work done, and then take the time to hurt and sort it out? I would think so. I wish I had been able to see this show 10 years ago this December, because it most likely could have made me see things a lot easier. It happened, and there's a time to deal with it, but it's not right now. That's the truth of it. Looking back on it, I was hard to handle. No one really knew how to talk to me about it and I didn't have the words for it. To this day I still don't. I didn't have anyone to talk to about it who didn't spin it in a different direction in which I wasn't prepared to go, all my friends were mourning in their own ways, and there was a bit of distance between all of us for a while. As of this day only one of those girls is still a very close friend. That's a lot of crap to deal with for your 17th birthday, and it definitely shifted me toward becoming the person I am today, and if it's any indicator, I frequently refer to myself as "sledgehammer" or "hurricane."
In the end, I developed a very blunt way of talking to people about certain matters that most others tend to pussy-foot around, which is another reason why I love DC. No time for crap, it all gets out in the open and dealt with NOW. Once again, it's easy to relate to the fishermen more, thanks to the endless passive-aggressive BS that's being crammed down our throats from every direction on TV. Don't believe me? Think of every show where someone talks smack about someone else, then puts on a fake smile and pretends to be best friends again. And let's not even mention that "Real Housewives" set on Bravo, what catty rubbish is that? It's glorified in the media, and people just eat it up!
Nope, give me the men who have a bone to pick, and they get it out there! Give me the ineloquent, give me the bumblers, give me the hot heads who yell and swear at their cameraman more than their crews, the chain smokers, the greenhorns with everything to prove and the vets with an axe to grind. give me the ones who hate to show any kind of emotion that might portray them as weak. Give me the men who laugh when someone's bleeding because they're glad it's not them. That's honest. A bit pig-headed and a lot of macho hoopla, but it's plain, simple, relatable honesty.
Speaking of macho, a bit just popped into my head from the final 3 episodes of the most recent season (6), where, as you may or may not know, one of the captains, Phil Harris, passed away this past February. You can find this on the Discovery channel's Deadliest Catch website, but there's a bit in there with Phil and one of his boys, Josh, in the hospital. It breaks my heart to watch this particular clip, because Phil apologizes for not being a better father, and you can see how hard it hit that kid to hear his dad say that, and he got choked up telling his dad that he had been the best dad he could be and helped him be a good man, and he went on to say how he hated to cry in front of people, especially his dad. From a peer perspective, since I think Josh is of a similar age, that really hit home, and I appreciate seeing his experience going through that with his dad. Sounds ass-backwards, but consider that I just said how I wished I had seen them deal with loss when I was dealing with loss, combined with my insane love for my dad. It hit hard, since I no longer live near my dad. After having sobbed pretty profusely through those three episodes at the end of the season, I feel like I've learned something from people worth learning from about the hard knocks we take in life. At a terrible cost, yes, but I've learned.
I just got teary-eyed thinking about that stupid clip. And this post took a turn for the depressing, and I totally didn't mean to, sorry!!! If that gets you down it's not my intent, because for me thinking through this stuff and having it sorted in my head makes it all better, and then I can just talk about it. It's weird, but that's the shift I had back in high school. So if you read thus far and think I'm I really screwed up individual, I assure you I'm not, my head's just been forced to a different way of thinking about things. And if this disclaimer just broke the mood I'd created, the mood was already gone by the time I started typing this last bit.
In the end, then, this post about lies is about the truth we find, or I found, and my experience with it. It's such an important dynamic in the grand scheme of me, which I'll elaborate upon in the next post. For now, though, if you've picked up on me saying stuff about Deadliest Catch, now you know why. I can't help what has impact on me, and if you can... I don't want to sniff your glue. To find a random program like this that can move someone like me, obviously a little more than a little bit jaded, to tears so easily by something as plain as "here we are, take it or leave it," is really a cool thing, and without sounding creepy, which at this point may be hard, it really means a lot to me. It's a bit dramatic, but it really is that cliche of the shining light amidst all the darkness in the wasteland called TV. OK, it's really dramatic, but the point's there, right? Amidst all the lies and fictions, which I can watch without caring unless it's really well-written (Big Bang Theory! Inception!), this one tiny program makes me feel. A lot. Sounds like a minor thing, but if you consider that it took discrimination at a college to make me cry for the first time after junior year of high school, maybe you can grasp the scope of what it means to me to really feel for the guys on the show. More power to them all, and many safe returns, as I believe they're all getting ready to head out again in the next few weeks (so I "liked" a couple of the ships on facebook, you get good information from them!). As for me, I'm just waiting for next season to air.
I actually started thinking about this for a good reason. Well, somewhat good. I have this thing, when I get really attached to something (as in fall head over heels in love/ borderline obsession), I almost always take a step back and ask myself why. Why, Cait, did you get so involved in this one song, or that TV show? All four of those TV shows? If you've been following the blog (thanks, btw), I've mentioned a few times how much I love Deadliest Catch on the Discovery channel, and it's the most recent instance of me sitting back and really thinking about why I got so involved with this show about a handful of men crab fishing.
After a considerable amount of thought, it finally dawned on me while I was IMing a friend of mine about some random topic. Probably her cat that looks like Hitler. The answer was very simple, and very straightforward. Of all the rubbish that's on TV, selling one thing or scripted "reality" shows that for some odd reason still surprises people to find out it's fake (The Hills, anyone? saw that coming a mile away!), this one show feels honest. I would say it is honest, but that's not really something I can prove or disprove conclusively. My gut tells me it's honest, and I relish that feeling of seeing these people, on good days and on the worst days, go through the mechanics of what are their typical lives, and not question the veracity of what they say. Sure, you know there's hijinks going on, and the guys are usually pretty up front about it. Hell, a show with that many sets of brothers, you know there's stuff going down, and occasional elaborations of the truth, and lots and lots of pissing matches. Isn't that the nature of brothers? Sure it is!
I just started watching season 5 on DVD (series 5 for my English pals) to get all my ducks in a row, as I've caught most of it but out of order. If you don't watch, lots of stuff happened. Lots of big damage to ships, tons of money spent paying for repairs, some really bad storms, a couple really nasty accidents, the sinking of one boat with several deaths , and one guy discovering the loss of a sibling back home while he was at sea. It's intense. By the end of the first episode I was choked up, and within two episodes I was sobbing my little heart out. If there's one thing to know about me, it's that I never cry during movies, or during TV shows, with LOST pretty much being the grand exception, and only in the last two seasons, as well as Harry Potter. I allowed myself to be immersed in those fantastic worlds and actually felt for completely made-up people. I cried for a house-elf, for goodness' sake!
But I cry during DC. I cry a lot, because of the hurt and the pain those guys endure in every was imaginable, and they just soldier on because they have to. And truthfully, I don't know if I could suck it up like they do and carry on. Thinking back to high school and the student losses we suffered, I was a wreck my junior year. A car accident killed two students, one of whom was a girl from my own circle of girlfriends. It tore me to pieces, and really messed me up for a long time. I'm still getting back to liking the winter holiday season again, because the accident was at the beginning of December, and for a few years I wanted nothing to do with it. I still hate how early decorations come out in retail establishments (Christmas stuff out on Halloween when I worked at Macy's, ri-effing-diculous), and most winters I go through a rough patch of depression. I'm fine with admitting it, it doesn't make me a lesser or weaker person to say it, and every year gets easier and a little bit better.
But suddenly being in a place of 'I can relate to you, random guy on this show,' really made me appreciate how they do what they do, year in and year out. Are they hurting? Of course. but do they keep on keepin' on, get their work done, and then take the time to hurt and sort it out? I would think so. I wish I had been able to see this show 10 years ago this December, because it most likely could have made me see things a lot easier. It happened, and there's a time to deal with it, but it's not right now. That's the truth of it. Looking back on it, I was hard to handle. No one really knew how to talk to me about it and I didn't have the words for it. To this day I still don't. I didn't have anyone to talk to about it who didn't spin it in a different direction in which I wasn't prepared to go, all my friends were mourning in their own ways, and there was a bit of distance between all of us for a while. As of this day only one of those girls is still a very close friend. That's a lot of crap to deal with for your 17th birthday, and it definitely shifted me toward becoming the person I am today, and if it's any indicator, I frequently refer to myself as "sledgehammer" or "hurricane."
In the end, I developed a very blunt way of talking to people about certain matters that most others tend to pussy-foot around, which is another reason why I love DC. No time for crap, it all gets out in the open and dealt with NOW. Once again, it's easy to relate to the fishermen more, thanks to the endless passive-aggressive BS that's being crammed down our throats from every direction on TV. Don't believe me? Think of every show where someone talks smack about someone else, then puts on a fake smile and pretends to be best friends again. And let's not even mention that "Real Housewives" set on Bravo, what catty rubbish is that? It's glorified in the media, and people just eat it up!
Nope, give me the men who have a bone to pick, and they get it out there! Give me the ineloquent, give me the bumblers, give me the hot heads who yell and swear at their cameraman more than their crews, the chain smokers, the greenhorns with everything to prove and the vets with an axe to grind. give me the ones who hate to show any kind of emotion that might portray them as weak. Give me the men who laugh when someone's bleeding because they're glad it's not them. That's honest. A bit pig-headed and a lot of macho hoopla, but it's plain, simple, relatable honesty.
Speaking of macho, a bit just popped into my head from the final 3 episodes of the most recent season (6), where, as you may or may not know, one of the captains, Phil Harris, passed away this past February. You can find this on the Discovery channel's Deadliest Catch website, but there's a bit in there with Phil and one of his boys, Josh, in the hospital. It breaks my heart to watch this particular clip, because Phil apologizes for not being a better father, and you can see how hard it hit that kid to hear his dad say that, and he got choked up telling his dad that he had been the best dad he could be and helped him be a good man, and he went on to say how he hated to cry in front of people, especially his dad. From a peer perspective, since I think Josh is of a similar age, that really hit home, and I appreciate seeing his experience going through that with his dad. Sounds ass-backwards, but consider that I just said how I wished I had seen them deal with loss when I was dealing with loss, combined with my insane love for my dad. It hit hard, since I no longer live near my dad. After having sobbed pretty profusely through those three episodes at the end of the season, I feel like I've learned something from people worth learning from about the hard knocks we take in life. At a terrible cost, yes, but I've learned.
___________________________________________________________________
I just got teary-eyed thinking about that stupid clip. And this post took a turn for the depressing, and I totally didn't mean to, sorry!!! If that gets you down it's not my intent, because for me thinking through this stuff and having it sorted in my head makes it all better, and then I can just talk about it. It's weird, but that's the shift I had back in high school. So if you read thus far and think I'm I really screwed up individual, I assure you I'm not, my head's just been forced to a different way of thinking about things. And if this disclaimer just broke the mood I'd created, the mood was already gone by the time I started typing this last bit.
In the end, then, this post about lies is about the truth we find, or I found, and my experience with it. It's such an important dynamic in the grand scheme of me, which I'll elaborate upon in the next post. For now, though, if you've picked up on me saying stuff about Deadliest Catch, now you know why. I can't help what has impact on me, and if you can... I don't want to sniff your glue. To find a random program like this that can move someone like me, obviously a little more than a little bit jaded, to tears so easily by something as plain as "here we are, take it or leave it," is really a cool thing, and without sounding creepy, which at this point may be hard, it really means a lot to me. It's a bit dramatic, but it really is that cliche of the shining light amidst all the darkness in the wasteland called TV. OK, it's really dramatic, but the point's there, right? Amidst all the lies and fictions, which I can watch without caring unless it's really well-written (Big Bang Theory! Inception!), this one tiny program makes me feel. A lot. Sounds like a minor thing, but if you consider that it took discrimination at a college to make me cry for the first time after junior year of high school, maybe you can grasp the scope of what it means to me to really feel for the guys on the show. More power to them all, and many safe returns, as I believe they're all getting ready to head out again in the next few weeks (so I "liked" a couple of the ships on facebook, you get good information from them!). As for me, I'm just waiting for next season to air.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Secrets
This idea just popped into my head, and i wanted to share before *ahem* I forgot again. Yes, I'm going to forget a lot of things, I've been working on the short-term, and it's been coming back, but random thoughts and musings? they just blip on and off, just like yesterday.
By the way, yesterday was a little scattered, and I completely blame watching Vicki Christina Barcelona. You try blogging and following a Woody Allen movie at the same time! No wonder I was distracted for the first ten minutes... so much information from the narrator. Good movie, but oy. I'm not a fan of having my movies narrated. I could have figured out most of the emotional complications pretty well without him telling me about it. Oh well.
Yesterday, I told you about one of my secrets. Today, I thought it would be interesting to talk about your secrets, or lack thereof.
Why? Well, I've been informed (and I'm calling you out!) that I tend to share a lot of information on facebook. Yes, Brother, I'm talking to you! However, I'm certainly not denying it, I totally do. Usually really inane, minor details about everyday life, or my snarky opinions when something stupid happens in the news. Or when I can't find my stupid mouse rug, which is still among the missing! It must have run away. OR when I get new music, talk about warm fuzzies!
Anyway, back on track. As we all know (since everyone who reads this, that I know, is linked to it from facebook), we all have to "like" pages, movies, TV shows, and groups to express our interests. I think it's pretty damn stupid and pretty much don't "like" anything anymore. The last one I did "like" was one of the boats from Deadliest Catch (no, I really can't get over that show), and i can't even be bothered to "like" the show. Not until I know the Cornelia Marie will be back, Discovery Channel! You do right by those Harris boys and the rest of the crew!
But you, my friends. You guys go nuts, NUTS I tell you! Just a sampling of things you guys have "liked" today: When we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours we fall in love; I [sic] rather be in pain by honesty that pleased by your lies; If anyone sends me anymore farmville request i am going to burn your crops and kill your animals; For those who have experienced the pain caused by stepping on a lego; I'm not arguing, I'm just explaining why I'm right (girls only); Let's start a christian revival right here, right now! click "like" if you believe jesus is the lord; and, If you can read this . . . press like (written upside-down, and I read it just fine).
Yesterday there was a humdinger, something about if I have to take a drug test to work my ass off, you should have to take a drug test to be on welfare. That one was... wow. Hello, opinion! How the heck are you? Over the past few weeks, there have been notable ones about Prop. 8, politicians, anti-politicians, and things about love your sister, love your mom, love your military husband/ friend/ guy you know, love your dog (no lie), love your cowboys boots (lie). It all starts to read like a country song after a while.
Look at all the information I know about you! I know your political and religious affiliations, though I don't particularly care to know (not my business, really), i know who's gay, who loves their gays, who's not the biggest fan of gay marriage, who likes Obama and who really doesn't like Obama, who's a stoner, who's a drug user of some other kind, who's a lush, who's a prude, who's saving themselves for marriage, all kinds of stuff!
Wow, I never knew this about you guys! All the years we spent growing up together, and I never knew you felt the need to identify with other people allergic to strawberries as a part of your social interactions, but I'm super glad you have the appropriate outlet to do so now, thanks to facebook!!
I'm not going to say that this is a stupid thing to do, because I don't really think it is ... entirely. All the chain letters, naughty things in Disney films, and pictures of awkward people that you have to "like" in order to see them? Complete waste of time (I'm looking at you, Cole). Truth be told, I have no idea how to find these things to "like" besides what's recommended in the sidebar, and I've become very adept at ignoring those. Seriously. I reckon I could click that little heart or on whatever link it indicates you found that thing (is it a page anymore? i have no idea), but... you know what? Ignorance. Bliss. Oh yeah, I'm there, babe.
But I rather enjoy reading what you think is a pertinent addition to your profile. Sometimes I do wonder if you guys really think about what you're "like"-ing before you do it. For example, if you had been smart like one facebooker I know, I'll call him Dane(+uh), then you would have posted a status update wondering how to make farmville go away. And I would have told you how to remove all traces of it in less than three easy steps, just like I did, since I too don't care about the wandering pink cow. BUT NO, two of you just had to "like" a group with a rather violent name. Makes me wonder what on Earth happened to make you so angry, guys! Push the neat little buttons on facebook, they're everywhere and they actually do things. Novel idea, right?
Oh, there's the truth of it. Am I making fun of you? Only if you're not laughing too. But truly, folks. Let's think first. Is the fact that you can read upside-down really something that helps us get to know you all over again? Do we really, REALLY need to know that? Maybe not, you think?
And do we need to see that you've joined a bunch of groups or liked a bunch of pages to be utterly convinced that you do, in fact, love your military husband? Sweety, let me tell you something. The pictures of you and yours that are posted convince me a lot more than you "like"-ing that page. A lot more.
But hey, if it's a fun thing for you to do, then keep on keepin' on, fellas. After all this is just my opinion, just another little commentary that borders on overshare territory. And I'm going to keep on keepin' on too, so... take it as you will, do what you want, and just know that somewhere out there, someone is probably wondering why you even bothered hitting that stupid "like" button and laughing at you for doing so. And it may or may not be me.
By the way, yesterday was a little scattered, and I completely blame watching Vicki Christina Barcelona. You try blogging and following a Woody Allen movie at the same time! No wonder I was distracted for the first ten minutes... so much information from the narrator. Good movie, but oy. I'm not a fan of having my movies narrated. I could have figured out most of the emotional complications pretty well without him telling me about it. Oh well.
Yesterday, I told you about one of my secrets. Today, I thought it would be interesting to talk about your secrets, or lack thereof.
Why? Well, I've been informed (and I'm calling you out!) that I tend to share a lot of information on facebook. Yes, Brother, I'm talking to you! However, I'm certainly not denying it, I totally do. Usually really inane, minor details about everyday life, or my snarky opinions when something stupid happens in the news. Or when I can't find my stupid mouse rug, which is still among the missing! It must have run away. OR when I get new music, talk about warm fuzzies!
Anyway, back on track. As we all know (since everyone who reads this, that I know, is linked to it from facebook), we all have to "like" pages, movies, TV shows, and groups to express our interests. I think it's pretty damn stupid and pretty much don't "like" anything anymore. The last one I did "like" was one of the boats from Deadliest Catch (no, I really can't get over that show), and i can't even be bothered to "like" the show. Not until I know the Cornelia Marie will be back, Discovery Channel! You do right by those Harris boys and the rest of the crew!
But you, my friends. You guys go nuts, NUTS I tell you! Just a sampling of things you guys have "liked" today: When we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours we fall in love; I [sic] rather be in pain by honesty that pleased by your lies; If anyone sends me anymore farmville request i am going to burn your crops and kill your animals; For those who have experienced the pain caused by stepping on a lego; I'm not arguing, I'm just explaining why I'm right (girls only); Let's start a christian revival right here, right now! click "like" if you believe jesus is the lord; and, If you can read this . . . press like (written upside-down, and I read it just fine).
Yesterday there was a humdinger, something about if I have to take a drug test to work my ass off, you should have to take a drug test to be on welfare. That one was... wow. Hello, opinion! How the heck are you? Over the past few weeks, there have been notable ones about Prop. 8, politicians, anti-politicians, and things about love your sister, love your mom, love your military husband/ friend/ guy you know, love your dog (no lie), love your cowboys boots (lie). It all starts to read like a country song after a while.
Look at all the information I know about you! I know your political and religious affiliations, though I don't particularly care to know (not my business, really), i know who's gay, who loves their gays, who's not the biggest fan of gay marriage, who likes Obama and who really doesn't like Obama, who's a stoner, who's a drug user of some other kind, who's a lush, who's a prude, who's saving themselves for marriage, all kinds of stuff!
Wow, I never knew this about you guys! All the years we spent growing up together, and I never knew you felt the need to identify with other people allergic to strawberries as a part of your social interactions, but I'm super glad you have the appropriate outlet to do so now, thanks to facebook!!
I'm not going to say that this is a stupid thing to do, because I don't really think it is ... entirely. All the chain letters, naughty things in Disney films, and pictures of awkward people that you have to "like" in order to see them? Complete waste of time (I'm looking at you, Cole). Truth be told, I have no idea how to find these things to "like" besides what's recommended in the sidebar, and I've become very adept at ignoring those. Seriously. I reckon I could click that little heart or on whatever link it indicates you found that thing (is it a page anymore? i have no idea), but... you know what? Ignorance. Bliss. Oh yeah, I'm there, babe.
But I rather enjoy reading what you think is a pertinent addition to your profile. Sometimes I do wonder if you guys really think about what you're "like"-ing before you do it. For example, if you had been smart like one facebooker I know, I'll call him Dane(+uh), then you would have posted a status update wondering how to make farmville go away. And I would have told you how to remove all traces of it in less than three easy steps, just like I did, since I too don't care about the wandering pink cow. BUT NO, two of you just had to "like" a group with a rather violent name. Makes me wonder what on Earth happened to make you so angry, guys! Push the neat little buttons on facebook, they're everywhere and they actually do things. Novel idea, right?
Oh, there's the truth of it. Am I making fun of you? Only if you're not laughing too. But truly, folks. Let's think first. Is the fact that you can read upside-down really something that helps us get to know you all over again? Do we really, REALLY need to know that? Maybe not, you think?
And do we need to see that you've joined a bunch of groups or liked a bunch of pages to be utterly convinced that you do, in fact, love your military husband? Sweety, let me tell you something. The pictures of you and yours that are posted convince me a lot more than you "like"-ing that page. A lot more.
But hey, if it's a fun thing for you to do, then keep on keepin' on, fellas. After all this is just my opinion, just another little commentary that borders on overshare territory. And I'm going to keep on keepin' on too, so... take it as you will, do what you want, and just know that somewhere out there, someone is probably wondering why you even bothered hitting that stupid "like" button and laughing at you for doing so. And it may or may not be me.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Untitled
*sigh.* I totally had an idea, and now, 'tis gone. That's ok, though, I'm a fairly adept rambler.
Stop all the presses, but yesterday was... a good day. I KNOW! And yet, I don't properly know why, but it just... was. So I'm not arguing. In fact, today hasn't been all bad either. Not a whole lot has been going on, but I rarely complain about that.
AHA! I got it! Social incest, that's what i wanted to talk about! Seriously, just took me like 10 minutes to come up with it, how ridiculous.
How funny is it to live in a little town? I mean, not little little, like a town where everyone know your business, but decently little, which is my experience, and since I like to speak from experience, I shall do just that. Monument is a truck stop with a bit of stuff in it. A couple fast food restaurants, a few little strip-style shopping areas, and schools. Recently we got a Wal-Mart and Kohls, which was a pretty huge development (figuratively and literally), because once upon a time the cool thing to do was hang out down by Safeway after school. And when we got the bowling alley? holy hot damn, that was a BIG deal!!
Our high school graduating class was a hair under 300, and it was the only high school in the district and town until... last year or the year before. Very very recent, anyway. So it's not a tiny town, no graduating class of 12 and we all grew up together from birth or anything of that ilk. STILL, though. Unavoidable social incest.
And I hope that term doesn't upset anyone. My friend Kas used the term to describe the town where she's from, and honestly, it's so bloody accurate I can't help but use it, and I generally don't mean it in a bad way. Generally. Everyone knows everyone else somehow, and even... (hold on, counting) 8 years after my class graduated, so almost 9 years since I left high school, I still bump into people. it's not that big a deal, I know, since parents and families still live in the area.
In the end, I suppose it's about watching everything grow up around you, watching families come together and expand from the kids in your computer class in 8th grade, seeing the little town that was once easily described as 'that town with the weigh station' turn into the town with, what, the third biggest Wal-Mart ever because they had the town rezoned half a dozen times. Watching parents turn gray and seeing little brothers and best friends grow beards. and then, BOOM.
Holy shit. The realization. We've grown up too. When the heck did that happen? Facebook is nothing but wedding announcements and pregnancy announcements, and endless photo albums of wonderful exotic vacations that ended with a romantic proposal. Announcements that friends are now aunties and uncles.
Um, what? I'm just one of those people, I guess, that sits down and works through these things without feeling like I'm missing out. 26 (27 in 4 months) doesn't feel old to me. How could it, I just admitted how old I am, and it's not embarrassing. Can't change it, so why bother?
I hope I hope I hope. Hope this doesn't sound sad, or bitter, or wistful. It makes me happy to see it all happen. Not afraid of my age, not afraid of change, not afraid of growing up. Ahhhhh the inevitability of it all. Come to terms with that, and the world is pretty awesome.
It's a little secret I carry around with me all the time, a tiny, glowing light that illuminates what I see. It never sputters or wavers, just glows. Maybe that's why I get asked all the time if I'm keeping secrets. I am keeping a secret, keeping it closely guarded and nearby. In turn, it keeps me warm, and deep down, regardless of what's going on here on the surface, it just keeps glowing. Even if I don't want to come across that way, it's still there.
I'm happy.
Shh, don't tell.
Stop all the presses, but yesterday was... a good day. I KNOW! And yet, I don't properly know why, but it just... was. So I'm not arguing. In fact, today hasn't been all bad either. Not a whole lot has been going on, but I rarely complain about that.
AHA! I got it! Social incest, that's what i wanted to talk about! Seriously, just took me like 10 minutes to come up with it, how ridiculous.
How funny is it to live in a little town? I mean, not little little, like a town where everyone know your business, but decently little, which is my experience, and since I like to speak from experience, I shall do just that. Monument is a truck stop with a bit of stuff in it. A couple fast food restaurants, a few little strip-style shopping areas, and schools. Recently we got a Wal-Mart and Kohls, which was a pretty huge development (figuratively and literally), because once upon a time the cool thing to do was hang out down by Safeway after school. And when we got the bowling alley? holy hot damn, that was a BIG deal!!
Our high school graduating class was a hair under 300, and it was the only high school in the district and town until... last year or the year before. Very very recent, anyway. So it's not a tiny town, no graduating class of 12 and we all grew up together from birth or anything of that ilk. STILL, though. Unavoidable social incest.
And I hope that term doesn't upset anyone. My friend Kas used the term to describe the town where she's from, and honestly, it's so bloody accurate I can't help but use it, and I generally don't mean it in a bad way. Generally. Everyone knows everyone else somehow, and even... (hold on, counting) 8 years after my class graduated, so almost 9 years since I left high school, I still bump into people. it's not that big a deal, I know, since parents and families still live in the area.
In the end, I suppose it's about watching everything grow up around you, watching families come together and expand from the kids in your computer class in 8th grade, seeing the little town that was once easily described as 'that town with the weigh station' turn into the town with, what, the third biggest Wal-Mart ever because they had the town rezoned half a dozen times. Watching parents turn gray and seeing little brothers and best friends grow beards. and then, BOOM.
Holy shit. The realization. We've grown up too. When the heck did that happen? Facebook is nothing but wedding announcements and pregnancy announcements, and endless photo albums of wonderful exotic vacations that ended with a romantic proposal. Announcements that friends are now aunties and uncles.
Um, what? I'm just one of those people, I guess, that sits down and works through these things without feeling like I'm missing out. 26 (27 in 4 months) doesn't feel old to me. How could it, I just admitted how old I am, and it's not embarrassing. Can't change it, so why bother?
I hope I hope I hope. Hope this doesn't sound sad, or bitter, or wistful. It makes me happy to see it all happen. Not afraid of my age, not afraid of change, not afraid of growing up. Ahhhhh the inevitability of it all. Come to terms with that, and the world is pretty awesome.
It's a little secret I carry around with me all the time, a tiny, glowing light that illuminates what I see. It never sputters or wavers, just glows. Maybe that's why I get asked all the time if I'm keeping secrets. I am keeping a secret, keeping it closely guarded and nearby. In turn, it keeps me warm, and deep down, regardless of what's going on here on the surface, it just keeps glowing. Even if I don't want to come across that way, it's still there.
I'm happy.
Shh, don't tell.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Where am I?
I've gotten this question a lot in the past year or so. Understandably so, the past year was kind of a doozy.
I was working at a hotel in Denver, commuting back and forth from old Monument for the overnight shift. It was... ok for a while. the money was good, but it was just a weird situation to find myself in, and it really put me in a funk. I developed a lovely case of migraines, and had a very strangely, and I will say, bad living arrangement. Very very bad.
Oddly enough, that wasn't really the problem. Actually, now that I have a healthy addiction to Deadliest Catch, I definitely realize that I was pretty whiny about the whole messed-up sleep cycle bit. But throw me a bone, I haven't had coffee in a year, nor have I been properly awake since I gave it up!
No, the real problem was actually my work place. You'd think that working in a hotel at night with no one else around is no big deal, and most nights you'd be right. But it started off on an odd foot and got worse from there. I was hired for an unethical reason, and then asked to lie about it to my coworkers. Sometime after I started working at Macy's and was told, not asked, to lie about where jewelry came from if I received a compliment, I realized something about the kind of person I am. It bothers me to lie to people, perfect strangers, about where i got a stupid necklace; my personal brand of integrity (get ready for it) really only allows me to lie about big things that won't effect anyone but me. You read it right. I'll lie about all kinds of things without qualm, but dang it all if I'm not going to tell someone that, in fact, I got this blouse at New York & Co. and NOT Macy's! I won't lie to very many kinds of people, mind you, but I guarantee that if you've lied to me and I caught you, I probably won't have a problem lying to you. It's immature and vindictive, yes, but people tend to not lie to me, so I guess it serves its purpose, yeah?
So, back to the hotel. I was hired specifically to be an on-hand, already trained replacement for the other, full-time night person, so my boss could just fire him whenever he did something stupid and couldn't cry foul and claim ageism. Oh yeah, it was a valid concern. He would have sued them so fast, given the chance to make a mint off that corporation. What can you expect for a former dentist who lost everything to Bernie Madoff? Yup, have that one on your conscience too! No worries, though, he got fired, and he earned it.
By some token, you should be thinking, well, hey, you got your job, though it took them four (count 'em) FOUR months to get the job I was hired for, I could stop lying to these people that I needed to trust and wanted to trust me. Here's a question for you: ever forged work relationships based on lies, or any kind of relationship? It doesn't just happen in Lifetime movies, folks! It happens in life, it sucks, it hurts you every time you sidestep the truth, and you feel like garbage for playing along with the charade for the sake of a bloody job. If I didn't still have migraines now, I might have believed that the lies and the migraines were related. no such luck.
Anyway, the job was weird. In the end, my 23-year old boss had an affair with a manager in the sales department, blatantly flaunted it in front of those of us on the front desk staff, and pretty much made being at work the very opposite of what it should have been. I need my work environment to be about work. I don't intentionally bring my personal life to work with me and I can put on a pretty smile and deal with drunks all night long. But when work becomes the soap opera? My Fight or Flight response, which is very finely tuned, screamed FLIGHT!!!!! With every fiber of my being. I don't know that I lasted a month after that whole debacle began.
So that was that. The last day I worked was at that job, I quit without having something else lined up, which was utterly terrifying. Then I took off to Alabama at the turn of the year, and jsut got back a week ago Saturday. Was it running away? In part, yes. In part it was confusion, frustration, and sheer annoyance at that damn question.
Where am I? Back in Colorado. Job hunting. Waaaaaaaay over southern men, and humidity. Ready for a career and doing what it takes to get there. Ready to figure out not where I am, but where I want to be. I missed out on the opportunity to go back to school this fall, thanks to a certain person I don't like at my university (Go State!), so I have to postpone until spring term. It's no biggie, gives me a chance to save some money for the move.
So in the end, if you want to ask me where I am and aren't wondering if I'm physically lost or stuck in traffic, first off, please don't. Pretty please. Just know that I have a plan. I always have a plan. Half of them never pan out, but that's not the point! I have it figured out, but the execution just takes a little bit of time. Yeah, the job thing is rather pressing at this very moment, but it'll get there. Not quite lost, but not quite ready to give up yet, either.
I was working at a hotel in Denver, commuting back and forth from old Monument for the overnight shift. It was... ok for a while. the money was good, but it was just a weird situation to find myself in, and it really put me in a funk. I developed a lovely case of migraines, and had a very strangely, and I will say, bad living arrangement. Very very bad.
Oddly enough, that wasn't really the problem. Actually, now that I have a healthy addiction to Deadliest Catch, I definitely realize that I was pretty whiny about the whole messed-up sleep cycle bit. But throw me a bone, I haven't had coffee in a year, nor have I been properly awake since I gave it up!
No, the real problem was actually my work place. You'd think that working in a hotel at night with no one else around is no big deal, and most nights you'd be right. But it started off on an odd foot and got worse from there. I was hired for an unethical reason, and then asked to lie about it to my coworkers. Sometime after I started working at Macy's and was told, not asked, to lie about where jewelry came from if I received a compliment, I realized something about the kind of person I am. It bothers me to lie to people, perfect strangers, about where i got a stupid necklace; my personal brand of integrity (get ready for it) really only allows me to lie about big things that won't effect anyone but me. You read it right. I'll lie about all kinds of things without qualm, but dang it all if I'm not going to tell someone that, in fact, I got this blouse at New York & Co. and NOT Macy's! I won't lie to very many kinds of people, mind you, but I guarantee that if you've lied to me and I caught you, I probably won't have a problem lying to you. It's immature and vindictive, yes, but people tend to not lie to me, so I guess it serves its purpose, yeah?
So, back to the hotel. I was hired specifically to be an on-hand, already trained replacement for the other, full-time night person, so my boss could just fire him whenever he did something stupid and couldn't cry foul and claim ageism. Oh yeah, it was a valid concern. He would have sued them so fast, given the chance to make a mint off that corporation. What can you expect for a former dentist who lost everything to Bernie Madoff? Yup, have that one on your conscience too! No worries, though, he got fired, and he earned it.
By some token, you should be thinking, well, hey, you got your job, though it took them four (count 'em) FOUR months to get the job I was hired for, I could stop lying to these people that I needed to trust and wanted to trust me. Here's a question for you: ever forged work relationships based on lies, or any kind of relationship? It doesn't just happen in Lifetime movies, folks! It happens in life, it sucks, it hurts you every time you sidestep the truth, and you feel like garbage for playing along with the charade for the sake of a bloody job. If I didn't still have migraines now, I might have believed that the lies and the migraines were related. no such luck.
Anyway, the job was weird. In the end, my 23-year old boss had an affair with a manager in the sales department, blatantly flaunted it in front of those of us on the front desk staff, and pretty much made being at work the very opposite of what it should have been. I need my work environment to be about work. I don't intentionally bring my personal life to work with me and I can put on a pretty smile and deal with drunks all night long. But when work becomes the soap opera? My Fight or Flight response, which is very finely tuned, screamed FLIGHT!!!!! With every fiber of my being. I don't know that I lasted a month after that whole debacle began.
So that was that. The last day I worked was at that job, I quit without having something else lined up, which was utterly terrifying. Then I took off to Alabama at the turn of the year, and jsut got back a week ago Saturday. Was it running away? In part, yes. In part it was confusion, frustration, and sheer annoyance at that damn question.
Where am I? Back in Colorado. Job hunting. Waaaaaaaay over southern men, and humidity. Ready for a career and doing what it takes to get there. Ready to figure out not where I am, but where I want to be. I missed out on the opportunity to go back to school this fall, thanks to a certain person I don't like at my university (Go State!), so I have to postpone until spring term. It's no biggie, gives me a chance to save some money for the move.
So in the end, if you want to ask me where I am and aren't wondering if I'm physically lost or stuck in traffic, first off, please don't. Pretty please. Just know that I have a plan. I always have a plan. Half of them never pan out, but that's not the point! I have it figured out, but the execution just takes a little bit of time. Yeah, the job thing is rather pressing at this very moment, but it'll get there. Not quite lost, but not quite ready to give up yet, either.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
The Namesake...
... for this blog is not, in fact, the book The Namesake. I'm a huge fan of explaining why I do certain things that tend to be a little, shall we say, cryptic. Indeed, titling a blog, "Not Quite Lost," is a tad on the cryptic side. Is it a good thing or a bad thing? Is the glass half empty or half full in this mysterious blog world?
Life. Life tends to be both. Up days, down days. Good days and bad days. Days where nothing can go right for you and then you get caught in a rainstorm and ruin your favorite shoes; days where you think you must have stumbled upon the leprechaun with his pot of gold at the end of a rainbow because you too are golden.
So I humbly submit to you: not quite lost. could be just that, not quite lost, with a sparkle of hope in the distance just waiting to be attained. Or it can mean not quite found, just a little something isn't quite right and is that blasted pebble in your shoe. Two peculiar little shades of grey inspired by something my brother said to me the other day, and I hope, if he reads this, he won't get offended or feel like I threw him under the bus. Not my intention at all, I just want to argue like a good little sister.
Last Friday, Brother asked me if I wanted to have a sit-down with him and strategize my life. Interesting... but I still listened to what he had to say, and he mentioned that he recognized something in me that he recognized as a place in which he used to be. He said I was lost like he once was. Now, without going into details, I disagree.
I'm not quite lost. I just take a little bit of time to get where I'm going. It's mysterious and cryptic and completely obnoxious and bewildering to some people. Well... sucks for them. It's my life in this day and age, and quite frankly, there is a lot of crap going on in this world, which i unfortunately tend to take into account and take to heart when I'm decision making. Decision making, by the way, is like pulling teeth with pliers for me. the only easy decisions I've ever made concerned purchasing airline tickets, and I fear the day when I no longer have the guts and gusto to just get on a plane and go. I cherish it.
So that's me, your flight attendant for this little trip through the grey areas, whether they be murky, pea soup-y, or shimmering. Even if we don't know where we're going on this flight, be assured, dear passenger, that we are not quite lost yet. Just you wait and see.
Life. Life tends to be both. Up days, down days. Good days and bad days. Days where nothing can go right for you and then you get caught in a rainstorm and ruin your favorite shoes; days where you think you must have stumbled upon the leprechaun with his pot of gold at the end of a rainbow because you too are golden.
So I humbly submit to you: not quite lost. could be just that, not quite lost, with a sparkle of hope in the distance just waiting to be attained. Or it can mean not quite found, just a little something isn't quite right and is that blasted pebble in your shoe. Two peculiar little shades of grey inspired by something my brother said to me the other day, and I hope, if he reads this, he won't get offended or feel like I threw him under the bus. Not my intention at all, I just want to argue like a good little sister.
Last Friday, Brother asked me if I wanted to have a sit-down with him and strategize my life. Interesting... but I still listened to what he had to say, and he mentioned that he recognized something in me that he recognized as a place in which he used to be. He said I was lost like he once was. Now, without going into details, I disagree.
I'm not quite lost. I just take a little bit of time to get where I'm going. It's mysterious and cryptic and completely obnoxious and bewildering to some people. Well... sucks for them. It's my life in this day and age, and quite frankly, there is a lot of crap going on in this world, which i unfortunately tend to take into account and take to heart when I'm decision making. Decision making, by the way, is like pulling teeth with pliers for me. the only easy decisions I've ever made concerned purchasing airline tickets, and I fear the day when I no longer have the guts and gusto to just get on a plane and go. I cherish it.
So that's me, your flight attendant for this little trip through the grey areas, whether they be murky, pea soup-y, or shimmering. Even if we don't know where we're going on this flight, be assured, dear passenger, that we are not quite lost yet. Just you wait and see.
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