I think one of the most important things I’ve learned as an adult is how important it is to admit when I’m wrong. To apologize and to take responsibility for my bad judgment.
You don’t see much of that going around these days. No one likes to admit when they’ve made a mistake. Even if it was an accident or just a misunderstanding, if somebody has to take the “blame” nobody steps up. Just watch one episode of Judge Judy and you’ll see what I mean. People think that “accident” means “I’m not responsible.”
I guess it’s because we live in such a litigious society. The risk of losing everything over even a small mistake has become so very high. Or maybe it’s because we take so much sheer pleasure in excoriating our enemies publicly. Self-vindication is everyone’s goal whether you’re on the giving or receiving end of a perceived wrong.
For all the “christianity” (small “c”) running rampant in America these days there’s an appalling lack the two things at the core of Christian faith. Penitence and Forgiveness.
Let’s take one of my favorite villains, our President of questionable moral virtue. As much as we scream for truth and accountability -- what would we do if POTUS actually turned around and gave it to us? We’d crucify him if the truth is anywhere near what we suspect. And if I’m being honest with myself, I’d be in the crowd screaming for blood.
Forgiveness is essential if I’m to practice what I preach. But that’s not to disregard accountability. Taking responsibility for your sins is just as important as acknowledging them. But I don’t know I’d be as focused on what he planned to do to right his wrongs as I would be on howling triumphantly from the rooftops “I KNEW IT! YOU SEE!!!”
It’s more import that I be RIGHT, and less important that he admits that he was WRONG.
But that is the truth. That is me admitting my failing. Now how do I take responsibility for it? Maybe just writing this admission is a first step to righting my self-righteous ideology. I will still demand the truth from my government. I will still fight for equality and human rights, but what happens after the battle. What do I do with the truth when I win it? And with justice when it’s secured? Do I lord it over those who hang their heads in shame and defeat? Or do I let them win back their honor by taking responsibility for their mistakes and learning to respect the rights of those they once trampled. Is that enough? If not, can going to prison with it’s dishonorable connotation, become an act of honor-restoration in the serving of a sentence?
Which is best for our society? For our country? Perhaps more intimately -- which speaks more highly of my character when it satisfies my soul?
Monday, June 26, 2006
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Red Ink
A cry went up. And I swear to god I don’t know where it came from. I mean one minute I was listening to that bastard berate me. And the next minute there was this dreadful scream like I’ve never heard before. Then his eyes went all wide and his mouth fell open as if he'd forgotten what he was going to say next.
For a second I thought that the scream had come from somewhere else. Outside maybe. Or it could have been a radio commercial on the little bookshelf stereo in his office.
Then I had to blink a few times because he started to shrink. Well that’s what it looked like. But he was sinking down to his knees. His eyes lifted to my face as he melted to the floor. There was something in them… confusion… tension…. Fear.
“Well it had to be done.”
I turned and just there to my right was Belinda. Passionless, matter of fact and oddly bemused as she watched Alain gasp for breath. The letter opener in her hand was dipped in red ink. Like the ink he’d used to mark up the copy I had written for latest catalog. Only darker.
He reached out toward me. Mercy? A mea culpa? A final blessing? But hadn’t he just been telling me how worthless I am? I forget now. I think it was “hack”…. I think it was something like that….
“Your turn, Honore” she thrust the letter opener forward with the point toward me.
She hated him for calling her a slut behind her back when she wore her skirt hems too high and her blouses cut too low. But is that enough? Enough of a reason to put a letter opener in his chest?
“Sure it is,” I said out loud.
But I didn’t take the silver ink-stained blade. I mean can you really kill somebody with a letter opener?
“You can’t do it.” It was a simple statement of fact.
And with that she flipped it in her palm and thrust it into Alain’s throat in a single, swift, and alarmingly graceful motion.
No cry went up this time. Just a gentle gurgling that reminded me of the brook behind our house when I was a girl. I looked down at Alain who now collapsed onto his side. Eyes still looking up at me as red ink bubbled in a lively stream from his neck.
“We’d better go now.”
I followed her out of his office and down to the lobby. I was thinking about my resume. I guess, I’d better update that puppy now, huh? I hoped I could still get a letter of recommendation from Human Resources. I mean I’m never late. I hardly ever call out sick. I’m a people person.
I figured I’d better turn in my badge now. I could always do the exit interview by phone. Patrick, the desk guard picked up the badge I tossed at him. He seamed pale.
“Jesus! Honore what happened?” He looked at the badge and then back at me, scanning my clothes.
I looked down. Décolletage exposed beneath my blouse, glistening like wine, the white silk speckled with burgundy. Even my miniskirt blossomed with rosey flecks. I was covered in red ink. Indelible red ink. Shit, I didn’t even think my drycleaner could get all that out.
Instinctively my right hand came up to the stains. Something glinted in it.
“What have you done, Honore?”
His question was a disappointed groan of chastising authority. Like my mother calling out my Christian name in frustration when I came home from playing in the stream behind our house. My white Sunday dress covered in mud.
“Honore Belinda Jones! What have you done!”
**********************
I would like to thank JJ of Flash Fiction Friday fame for giving me the opportunity to safely murder in effigy one of the current sources of stress in my life. The real Alain is not my boss but rather a colleague. If he knew how close he came to meeting his maker I'm sure he would say "thank you" as well.
For a second I thought that the scream had come from somewhere else. Outside maybe. Or it could have been a radio commercial on the little bookshelf stereo in his office.
Then I had to blink a few times because he started to shrink. Well that’s what it looked like. But he was sinking down to his knees. His eyes lifted to my face as he melted to the floor. There was something in them… confusion… tension…. Fear.
“Well it had to be done.”
I turned and just there to my right was Belinda. Passionless, matter of fact and oddly bemused as she watched Alain gasp for breath. The letter opener in her hand was dipped in red ink. Like the ink he’d used to mark up the copy I had written for latest catalog. Only darker.
He reached out toward me. Mercy? A mea culpa? A final blessing? But hadn’t he just been telling me how worthless I am? I forget now. I think it was “hack”…. I think it was something like that….
“Your turn, Honore” she thrust the letter opener forward with the point toward me.
She hated him for calling her a slut behind her back when she wore her skirt hems too high and her blouses cut too low. But is that enough? Enough of a reason to put a letter opener in his chest?
“Sure it is,” I said out loud.
But I didn’t take the silver ink-stained blade. I mean can you really kill somebody with a letter opener?
“You can’t do it.” It was a simple statement of fact.
And with that she flipped it in her palm and thrust it into Alain’s throat in a single, swift, and alarmingly graceful motion.
No cry went up this time. Just a gentle gurgling that reminded me of the brook behind our house when I was a girl. I looked down at Alain who now collapsed onto his side. Eyes still looking up at me as red ink bubbled in a lively stream from his neck.
“We’d better go now.”
I followed her out of his office and down to the lobby. I was thinking about my resume. I guess, I’d better update that puppy now, huh? I hoped I could still get a letter of recommendation from Human Resources. I mean I’m never late. I hardly ever call out sick. I’m a people person.
I figured I’d better turn in my badge now. I could always do the exit interview by phone. Patrick, the desk guard picked up the badge I tossed at him. He seamed pale.
“Jesus! Honore what happened?” He looked at the badge and then back at me, scanning my clothes.
I looked down. Décolletage exposed beneath my blouse, glistening like wine, the white silk speckled with burgundy. Even my miniskirt blossomed with rosey flecks. I was covered in red ink. Indelible red ink. Shit, I didn’t even think my drycleaner could get all that out.
Instinctively my right hand came up to the stains. Something glinted in it.
“What have you done, Honore?”
His question was a disappointed groan of chastising authority. Like my mother calling out my Christian name in frustration when I came home from playing in the stream behind our house. My white Sunday dress covered in mud.
“Honore Belinda Jones! What have you done!”
**********************
I would like to thank JJ of Flash Fiction Friday fame for giving me the opportunity to safely murder in effigy one of the current sources of stress in my life. The real Alain is not my boss but rather a colleague. If he knew how close he came to meeting his maker I'm sure he would say "thank you" as well.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Leftover Thoughts.
I want to learn to meditate. Maybe it’s because I’m a schmuck. I believe that crap those New Age-y types say about the answers being “within.” Okay not totally… not exactly. But I think if I could just shut my intellect up for a minute, maybe my spiritual self, or my instinct will take over.
The thing is I want to do it in the God Way. Not the religious establishment way of meditating on and memorizing Bible verses. And not the higher power non-entity little “g” god way. I guess I just want to sit someplace quiet and be with God. To be… I dunno… grateful, honest, repentant, forgiving, faithful, hopeful … doubtful.
Doubt is important to me right now. Doubt is honest. Doubt is mingled up in my anger, frustration and disappointment. Doubt is clarity in a way that faith isn’t. When people tell me I should “have faith that everything is going to workout… that God is in control,” I think that what they are really saying is “Ignore the obvious. Accept what is and wait for the wind to blow just right so that your ship comes sailing in.”
But Doubt makes me resist that thought. I mean, of all those great guys in the Bible, who among them ever sat on their hands and literally “Waited on the Lord?” Most of them didn’t. This waiting crap is for the birds. I mean if you really have faith shouldn’t you be taking serious action to receive all those blessings God promises?
“But what if there were no Biblical promises or admonitions?” Doubt asks me with mock innocence. “What if there were no great spiritual leaders? Or wise new age gurus? What then?” Then I would be back to being a schmuck. Back to looking within. Listening to the silence and waiting for God to say something, or to become a feeling or a thought or an inspiration way down in my gut. I want God to be that overwhelming rush of passion that binds me to my dreams even when the day is hot and my head is pounding and all I want to do is sleep… or cry.
So I’m having trouble picking up the Bible and just reading it. I’m having trouble with the Tao Te Ching and the Bhagavad Gita. I’m having trouble because my intellect wants to reconcile them with faith while my soul just wants to let their music play while I sing my own divinely inspired song. And you know how difficult it is to sing a song when some jackass is sitting next you, blabbering away and won’t shut up.
So Doubt has to become a gag of sorts. But I’ve been shunning it. Denying it. Hiding my eyes. I don’t want to admit that I have doubts about my faith. But I do. Not about God Himself, but about what exactly it is God really wants from me. And I am so sick and fucking tired of people telling me what God wants, who He’s judging, and who He’s going to send to hell. I’m tired of bigotry masquerading as righteousness. I’m tired of telling myself I’m waiting on the Lord when I know perfectly well that all I’m doing is procrastinating through prayer.
You’ve got to hand it to Doubt. It’s not easily duped. It’s wise and knows how to cut through the crap. So my meditation needs to give Doubt the floor and let it speak it’s piece…or is it peace? The only question is will God have anything to say about it. Will He strike Doubt down with a lightening bolt – and me with it – or will He embrace it and calm it’s fears? Hard to know really. And I don’t want to pin my hopes on an answer because I’m not there yet. Besides even if I do, I know what will happen… Doubt will say something like, “Aren’t you just predicting the answers you hope to hear?” The only way to reach a real answer is to take a real journey into the silence… one that only a real schmuck would take.
The thing is I want to do it in the God Way. Not the religious establishment way of meditating on and memorizing Bible verses. And not the higher power non-entity little “g” god way. I guess I just want to sit someplace quiet and be with God. To be… I dunno… grateful, honest, repentant, forgiving, faithful, hopeful … doubtful.
Doubt is important to me right now. Doubt is honest. Doubt is mingled up in my anger, frustration and disappointment. Doubt is clarity in a way that faith isn’t. When people tell me I should “have faith that everything is going to workout… that God is in control,” I think that what they are really saying is “Ignore the obvious. Accept what is and wait for the wind to blow just right so that your ship comes sailing in.”
But Doubt makes me resist that thought. I mean, of all those great guys in the Bible, who among them ever sat on their hands and literally “Waited on the Lord?” Most of them didn’t. This waiting crap is for the birds. I mean if you really have faith shouldn’t you be taking serious action to receive all those blessings God promises?
“But what if there were no Biblical promises or admonitions?” Doubt asks me with mock innocence. “What if there were no great spiritual leaders? Or wise new age gurus? What then?” Then I would be back to being a schmuck. Back to looking within. Listening to the silence and waiting for God to say something, or to become a feeling or a thought or an inspiration way down in my gut. I want God to be that overwhelming rush of passion that binds me to my dreams even when the day is hot and my head is pounding and all I want to do is sleep… or cry.
So I’m having trouble picking up the Bible and just reading it. I’m having trouble with the Tao Te Ching and the Bhagavad Gita. I’m having trouble because my intellect wants to reconcile them with faith while my soul just wants to let their music play while I sing my own divinely inspired song. And you know how difficult it is to sing a song when some jackass is sitting next you, blabbering away and won’t shut up.
So Doubt has to become a gag of sorts. But I’ve been shunning it. Denying it. Hiding my eyes. I don’t want to admit that I have doubts about my faith. But I do. Not about God Himself, but about what exactly it is God really wants from me. And I am so sick and fucking tired of people telling me what God wants, who He’s judging, and who He’s going to send to hell. I’m tired of bigotry masquerading as righteousness. I’m tired of telling myself I’m waiting on the Lord when I know perfectly well that all I’m doing is procrastinating through prayer.
You’ve got to hand it to Doubt. It’s not easily duped. It’s wise and knows how to cut through the crap. So my meditation needs to give Doubt the floor and let it speak it’s piece…or is it peace? The only question is will God have anything to say about it. Will He strike Doubt down with a lightening bolt – and me with it – or will He embrace it and calm it’s fears? Hard to know really. And I don’t want to pin my hopes on an answer because I’m not there yet. Besides even if I do, I know what will happen… Doubt will say something like, “Aren’t you just predicting the answers you hope to hear?” The only way to reach a real answer is to take a real journey into the silence… one that only a real schmuck would take.
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Flash Fiction Entry
I haven't done one of these in a while but since I'm trying to write creatively everyday and I have more time on the weekends it just seems like the right thing to do....
Vanity's Bonfire
He said little as they paddled their way along the sunken streets.
“This wasn’t our fault you know,” his balding compatriot offered to the dismal silence.“I mean, really. How could we have known? It was all Chicken Little stuff. Nobody could have predicted…” his voice trailed off.
Of course somebody had predicted, hadn’t they? But it’s so easy to dismiss a bunch of weak wristed intellectuals. Power has a way distracting you. Pride goeth before… what was it?
“Make a left here” the dark-skinned woman said to the rower.
“I’m sorry ma’am, that way is blocked.”
“Blocked?! But we came that way just this morning!” her dark eyes burned with annoyance and her small white teeth nipped at the cold air.
“It’s…” the rower glanced at the sunken gray faced man at the stern of the boat. “It’s safer this way.”
Protestors, of course, had blocked the pass. The small armada floated along course. Just months ago it would have seemed absurd to see twenty odd boats filled with black suited men and heads of state rowing their way down the streets of the world’s most powerful city.
Even when the EPA confirmed the unprecedented rise of the world's oceans it seamed like nothing more than a passing weather anomaly. But today the most powerful nation in the world had been thrust into third world status. The entire coastal infrastructure crippled.
They weren’t the only ones of course. No the only ones suffering, and not the only ones to blame. But the world blamed the United States for it anyway. And virtually every nation on earth had abandoned it except for Israel and the UK.
Well, what was left of the UK anyway. Mass sections of the island nation were submerged, save for some fortunate areas of the Scottish Highlands. The government had been relocated to Ben Nevis.
The trip back from Capitol Hill was long and dreary. When they steered the boat down Pennsylvania Avenue the gray man stirred and lifted his eyes. A warm glow fell across his face as he gazed upon the final demise of over two centuries worth of history.
The balding man and the black woman gasped and tears rolled down their cheeks. Flames licked the horizon. White pillars jutted out of the water and thrust upward into a red and yellow blaze and a billowing column of smoke; like so many candles on a floating birthday cake.
The President lowered his head into his hands and began to sob. The Secret Service rower placed a hand on his shoulder in comfort. “It’s okay sir… it’s going to be okay.”
But it wouldn’t be okay. Because global warming was just getting started.
Vanity's Bonfire
He said little as they paddled their way along the sunken streets.
“This wasn’t our fault you know,” his balding compatriot offered to the dismal silence.“I mean, really. How could we have known? It was all Chicken Little stuff. Nobody could have predicted…” his voice trailed off.
Of course somebody had predicted, hadn’t they? But it’s so easy to dismiss a bunch of weak wristed intellectuals. Power has a way distracting you. Pride goeth before… what was it?
“Make a left here” the dark-skinned woman said to the rower.
“I’m sorry ma’am, that way is blocked.”
“Blocked?! But we came that way just this morning!” her dark eyes burned with annoyance and her small white teeth nipped at the cold air.
“It’s…” the rower glanced at the sunken gray faced man at the stern of the boat. “It’s safer this way.”
Protestors, of course, had blocked the pass. The small armada floated along course. Just months ago it would have seemed absurd to see twenty odd boats filled with black suited men and heads of state rowing their way down the streets of the world’s most powerful city.
Even when the EPA confirmed the unprecedented rise of the world's oceans it seamed like nothing more than a passing weather anomaly. But today the most powerful nation in the world had been thrust into third world status. The entire coastal infrastructure crippled.
They weren’t the only ones of course. No the only ones suffering, and not the only ones to blame. But the world blamed the United States for it anyway. And virtually every nation on earth had abandoned it except for Israel and the UK.
Well, what was left of the UK anyway. Mass sections of the island nation were submerged, save for some fortunate areas of the Scottish Highlands. The government had been relocated to Ben Nevis.
The trip back from Capitol Hill was long and dreary. When they steered the boat down Pennsylvania Avenue the gray man stirred and lifted his eyes. A warm glow fell across his face as he gazed upon the final demise of over two centuries worth of history.
The balding man and the black woman gasped and tears rolled down their cheeks. Flames licked the horizon. White pillars jutted out of the water and thrust upward into a red and yellow blaze and a billowing column of smoke; like so many candles on a floating birthday cake.
The President lowered his head into his hands and began to sob. The Secret Service rower placed a hand on his shoulder in comfort. “It’s okay sir… it’s going to be okay.”
But it wouldn’t be okay. Because global warming was just getting started.
I'm not really...
blogging every single day. Well not exactly. I'm trying not to log on to blogger at work. Apparently they frown on that... go figure.
But I am trying to write creatively everyday. Or just write everyday - cause I don't think my last two entries were especially creative -- nor is this one for that matter. So what I've been doing is just jotting things down at lunchtime or at the end of the day and just saving it and emailing to myself at home. Then I can take a few moments to post it all for you guys when I get a chance. See how clever I am?
Any this really is Saturday morning. And I really am typing this directly into blogger. And the actual post time will be 10:45 AM, which is when I opened this little "create post" window. And yes I really am tapping away at my keyboard hoping that something creative will erupt from these little fingers of mine. And, no I'm not sensing any creativity in this yet either.
Hmmmm.... still nothing. Okay enough of this torture... go on about your day people. Nothing to see here.
But I am trying to write creatively everyday. Or just write everyday - cause I don't think my last two entries were especially creative -- nor is this one for that matter. So what I've been doing is just jotting things down at lunchtime or at the end of the day and just saving it and emailing to myself at home. Then I can take a few moments to post it all for you guys when I get a chance. See how clever I am?
Any this really is Saturday morning. And I really am typing this directly into blogger. And the actual post time will be 10:45 AM, which is when I opened this little "create post" window. And yes I really am tapping away at my keyboard hoping that something creative will erupt from these little fingers of mine. And, no I'm not sensing any creativity in this yet either.
Hmmmm.... still nothing. Okay enough of this torture... go on about your day people. Nothing to see here.
Friday, June 02, 2006
Positive Thoughts
For a long time I've been wanting a deep fryer and George Foreman grill.
We had a little event at work today -- during which there were raffles for, among other things, a deep fryer and a George Foreman grill. I won the grill. And I just totally knew that I was going to when one of them. In fact it's the only reason I attended the event. Because I had way too much work to do and the event was optional.
I also want my husband to get back into surfing. It's really good for him. Not just physically but spiritually it's good for him. But for complicated reasons I won't go into he just can't bring himself to do. But I am totally convinced that if I were to start surfing, he would not be able to stay away. Only problem is I can't swim very well. So earlier this year I made it my goal to learn to swim. Still I haven't taken much action on it because it would require me to take classes with a bunch of strangers at the YWCA. Not that the Y is bad, but why pay for that when I already belong to a gym with a pool (that unfortunately does NOT have classes.) the most I could do was splash around in the pool at my gym and try to teach myself. Not successful.
Today I worked an event for my job -- totally different event than afforementioned George-Foreman-Grill-Winning Event; I told you I was busy. One of the women I worked the event with was this sweet gal who had been a lifeguard since age 15 and a swim instructor for many years. It turns out she misses teaching. When I told her I wanted to learn she jumped at the chance to teach me. She has passes to every gym in town, including mine, and we agreed to meet on Saturdays (starting next week) for my private swim classes. How cool is that?!!
It's like all these little blessings are falling out of the sky today. I like it. I've been feeling stressed and overworked and it feels good to have great things like happen.
Anyway, I just thought I'd share.
We had a little event at work today -- during which there were raffles for, among other things, a deep fryer and a George Foreman grill. I won the grill. And I just totally knew that I was going to when one of them. In fact it's the only reason I attended the event. Because I had way too much work to do and the event was optional.
I also want my husband to get back into surfing. It's really good for him. Not just physically but spiritually it's good for him. But for complicated reasons I won't go into he just can't bring himself to do. But I am totally convinced that if I were to start surfing, he would not be able to stay away. Only problem is I can't swim very well. So earlier this year I made it my goal to learn to swim. Still I haven't taken much action on it because it would require me to take classes with a bunch of strangers at the YWCA. Not that the Y is bad, but why pay for that when I already belong to a gym with a pool (that unfortunately does NOT have classes.) the most I could do was splash around in the pool at my gym and try to teach myself. Not successful.
Today I worked an event for my job -- totally different event than afforementioned George-Foreman-Grill-Winning Event; I told you I was busy. One of the women I worked the event with was this sweet gal who had been a lifeguard since age 15 and a swim instructor for many years. It turns out she misses teaching. When I told her I wanted to learn she jumped at the chance to teach me. She has passes to every gym in town, including mine, and we agreed to meet on Saturdays (starting next week) for my private swim classes. How cool is that?!!
It's like all these little blessings are falling out of the sky today. I like it. I've been feeling stressed and overworked and it feels good to have great things like happen.
Anyway, I just thought I'd share.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Today I hate...
AOL. I want to read my email. Is that too much to ask? It's bad enough they are now accepting "dirty" money from advertisers to guarantee that I get spammed. But now I can't even get my legitimate email.
Maybe someone is punishing them for their sins. I bet they got hacked and don't want to admit it. I bet they are not as secure as they like us to believe. I'm thinking it may be time to leave them. I've thought about it but I never took any action. I mean I have outlook at home. It might be time to set it up to receive my yahoo mail.
But I've been with AOL for so long. Everybody has that email address. I'd have to go in and every online account I've ever had. I don't even know how many online accounts I have? And then there's the little matter of all my alternate email addresses under aol. And my husbands. But if I revise my website and set up an email box with an online server I could get around that.
I really don't like AOL anymore. They are expensive and they really don't give you all that much. But I don't hate them quite enough yet to go through all the trouble. Still this freakin' outage has made hate them enough to start thinking up an escape plan.
Who's with me?!!!
Maybe someone is punishing them for their sins. I bet they got hacked and don't want to admit it. I bet they are not as secure as they like us to believe. I'm thinking it may be time to leave them. I've thought about it but I never took any action. I mean I have outlook at home. It might be time to set it up to receive my yahoo mail.
But I've been with AOL for so long. Everybody has that email address. I'd have to go in and every online account I've ever had. I don't even know how many online accounts I have? And then there's the little matter of all my alternate email addresses under aol. And my husbands. But if I revise my website and set up an email box with an online server I could get around that.
I really don't like AOL anymore. They are expensive and they really don't give you all that much. But I don't hate them quite enough yet to go through all the trouble. Still this freakin' outage has made hate them enough to start thinking up an escape plan.
Who's with me?!!!
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
So...
I've been interviewing for this job. A really great job. Way more money - like a 50% bump.
Great company. Pretty much the same thing that I'm doing now. Only they are more formalized. They do Direct Marketing the way you're supposed to do it. My company... not so much.
I have no doubt I can do the job and blow the doors off, you know. But I just love the company and the people I work with so much that all I can think is, that I totally have the power to bring that kind of philosophy right into my current job.
It's far more practical to accept a job that will pay me more. Especially since I want to start a family. But I can shake this nagging feeling that this is not the right move for me. Not that the new company has actually OFFERED me anything, mind you. But I am damn good so there is a good chance that they will.
I'm not afraid of change. I love change. Thrive on it. But I just feel like this is not the right move. Plus I know that I would really be screwing over my current company if I left. I mean BIG TIME. And they simply can't compete with the salaries these guys would be offering.
It just seems so counter-intuitive to pass up that much money. But I just can't see myself taking that job.
Great company. Pretty much the same thing that I'm doing now. Only they are more formalized. They do Direct Marketing the way you're supposed to do it. My company... not so much.
I have no doubt I can do the job and blow the doors off, you know. But I just love the company and the people I work with so much that all I can think is, that I totally have the power to bring that kind of philosophy right into my current job.
It's far more practical to accept a job that will pay me more. Especially since I want to start a family. But I can shake this nagging feeling that this is not the right move for me. Not that the new company has actually OFFERED me anything, mind you. But I am damn good so there is a good chance that they will.
I'm not afraid of change. I love change. Thrive on it. But I just feel like this is not the right move. Plus I know that I would really be screwing over my current company if I left. I mean BIG TIME. And they simply can't compete with the salaries these guys would be offering.
It just seems so counter-intuitive to pass up that much money. But I just can't see myself taking that job.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
5 Minutes
If I could write creatively for just five minutes everyday, would that be enough? Would it be enough to get back on track and fulfill my destiny as a writer? The unrest I’m feeling seems to be pulling me toward that. I feel a heaviness in my chest. A hollow heaviness. How can something that feels so empty be weighing me down so much? The paradox of unfulfillment. So what is next? Do I blog away? Do just let 5 minutes a day kill the hunger pangs until the next 300 second fix?
I think in the back of my mind that if I just get started… if I just sit down and commit to 5 minutes it will lead to more. Like when two teenagers swear to each other that they will only kiss in the backseat of a parents car. Just kissing, no tongue, no touching below the neck. But then you know it leads to something more. Because deep down inside they want to, need to, have to – by biological imperative – go all the way.
That’s just how these things go. Maybe my creative genius will just get carried away with itself and do something truly great. That’s my hope anyway.
I think in the back of my mind that if I just get started… if I just sit down and commit to 5 minutes it will lead to more. Like when two teenagers swear to each other that they will only kiss in the backseat of a parents car. Just kissing, no tongue, no touching below the neck. But then you know it leads to something more. Because deep down inside they want to, need to, have to – by biological imperative – go all the way.
That’s just how these things go. Maybe my creative genius will just get carried away with itself and do something truly great. That’s my hope anyway.
Monday, May 29, 2006
Haitus Over
Everyone is the star of their own damn show.
Nobody thinks they are going to die.
If anything happens they’re gonna pull through
All those folks that die on the news, they’re just background.
The extras that make up the ambiance of living.
You know what’s worse than being canceled from your own life show?
Being forced to sit through your own reruns.
Ennui. Restlessness. Like you’ve become an extra in your own life.
I am restless and sad. Angry for no reason other than the fact that I’ve stopped moving forward.
It’s not that I don’t want to go anywhere.
It’s just that I don’t know which way to go.
Every direction, every possible turn of the plot has so many damn consequences.
They say that anything worth having is going to take hard work.
Well, keeping this show fresh is tough my friend. Real tough.
I want to feel my blood pumping. I want to hit my mark and remember my lines.
I want to hear the crowd laugh and know it’s not canned.
I feel this ache. This yearning for something more. I wish I could be so bold as to say it’s just beyond my reach. But that would be vain. And a lie. It would imply that I was actively reaching for something. But I’m not. The thing I’m yearning for is right the palm of my hands. I simply lack the will power - or maybe it’s discipline- to close my grip.
But I’m angry enough, just enough, just for right now, to let a little of that tension build to bend my knuckles just a bit.
My co-stars need a little push too. I know that. I want some character interaction. I want some conflict. I want a plot twist. Something big. A cliff-hanger at the end of the day that gets me up and ready to go the next morning.
Damn it’s hard. Scripts don’t write them selves you know. How do you recreate your character when the whole audience thinks they know you so well? How do you start over?
I’m tired of watching TV. Watching other lives being lived. Not even real ones. I don’t want to wake up one day and find that I never started living mine. How do those people do it? The tv stars and writers, the artists and intellectuals, the philosophers and the saints. Where do they find the time? Everybody gets the same 24 hours though don’t they? If I’ve learned nothing from Jack Bauer I’ve learned that.
I don’t know if I’ll get canceled before all the questions are answered or all my loose ends are tied up. Or if I’ll ever have spin off series or two… a girl and a boy would be nice but I’m not picky. But I’d like to make it to my series finale and maybe get an Emmy from God in the end. That would be nice. Or maybe I’ll leave some legacy behind something good for people to remember. Something to carry on… for syndication.
Nobody thinks they are going to die.
If anything happens they’re gonna pull through
All those folks that die on the news, they’re just background.
The extras that make up the ambiance of living.
You know what’s worse than being canceled from your own life show?
Being forced to sit through your own reruns.
Ennui. Restlessness. Like you’ve become an extra in your own life.
I am restless and sad. Angry for no reason other than the fact that I’ve stopped moving forward.
It’s not that I don’t want to go anywhere.
It’s just that I don’t know which way to go.
Every direction, every possible turn of the plot has so many damn consequences.
They say that anything worth having is going to take hard work.
Well, keeping this show fresh is tough my friend. Real tough.
I want to feel my blood pumping. I want to hit my mark and remember my lines.
I want to hear the crowd laugh and know it’s not canned.
I feel this ache. This yearning for something more. I wish I could be so bold as to say it’s just beyond my reach. But that would be vain. And a lie. It would imply that I was actively reaching for something. But I’m not. The thing I’m yearning for is right the palm of my hands. I simply lack the will power - or maybe it’s discipline- to close my grip.
But I’m angry enough, just enough, just for right now, to let a little of that tension build to bend my knuckles just a bit.
My co-stars need a little push too. I know that. I want some character interaction. I want some conflict. I want a plot twist. Something big. A cliff-hanger at the end of the day that gets me up and ready to go the next morning.
Damn it’s hard. Scripts don’t write them selves you know. How do you recreate your character when the whole audience thinks they know you so well? How do you start over?
I’m tired of watching TV. Watching other lives being lived. Not even real ones. I don’t want to wake up one day and find that I never started living mine. How do those people do it? The tv stars and writers, the artists and intellectuals, the philosophers and the saints. Where do they find the time? Everybody gets the same 24 hours though don’t they? If I’ve learned nothing from Jack Bauer I’ve learned that.
I don’t know if I’ll get canceled before all the questions are answered or all my loose ends are tied up. Or if I’ll ever have spin off series or two… a girl and a boy would be nice but I’m not picky. But I’d like to make it to my series finale and maybe get an Emmy from God in the end. That would be nice. Or maybe I’ll leave some legacy behind something good for people to remember. Something to carry on… for syndication.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Home Again
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Me Generation
So I was reading in the paper how the whole Me Generation is very selfish and enititled. How they all assume that fame and fortune are their birthrights. How they question authority and expect to get their own way. And then I read how they think the whole world gives a shit what they think so they pour their hearts out in their blogs and expose every little sordid detail. And then I remembered that I have a blog that I haven't posted to in like two months. And I thought, "damn, the whole world IS waiting to hear MY meaningless ramblings."
So hi.
I'm not pregnant yet. Still working on it.
I'm not rich yet. My big plan for millions keeps getting stalled.... fucking lottery!
I'm not on a secluded tropical beach... but I will be in like 6 days. Honeymoon Part Deux!
I haven't figured out the secrets of the universe or unlocked the mind of God or gotten over the fact that I will not live forever.
I haven't written the great American novel yet.
I have however, bought a new Ipod. Window shopped for a new car. Braided my hair. Gone on a job interview for a position that would up my salary by 50%. Cleaned up copious amounts of cat poop, pee and vomit (sick kitties at home). Decided that taking my fucking temperature every freakin' morning was a waste of time. And I downloaded several guide meditation recordings to my ipod in order to try and look deeper into my subconscious mind and hopefully discover some universal truths ... or maybe to channel some good lottery numbers...I'm not picky.
So hi.
I'm not pregnant yet. Still working on it.
I'm not rich yet. My big plan for millions keeps getting stalled.... fucking lottery!
I'm not on a secluded tropical beach... but I will be in like 6 days. Honeymoon Part Deux!
I haven't figured out the secrets of the universe or unlocked the mind of God or gotten over the fact that I will not live forever.
I haven't written the great American novel yet.
I have however, bought a new Ipod. Window shopped for a new car. Braided my hair. Gone on a job interview for a position that would up my salary by 50%. Cleaned up copious amounts of cat poop, pee and vomit (sick kitties at home). Decided that taking my fucking temperature every freakin' morning was a waste of time. And I downloaded several guide meditation recordings to my ipod in order to try and look deeper into my subconscious mind and hopefully discover some universal truths ... or maybe to channel some good lottery numbers...I'm not picky.
Friday, March 17, 2006
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
Well, I did not wear green today. For some reason I thought tomorrow was St. Paddy's day. (sigh). I should be at church right now. I left work early to do the whole Stations-of-the-Cross-fish-n-chips-St.-Pat's-green-beer-thing at church. But my hubby is feeling sick and is begging me do fish and chips at home.
Okay, but I'm going to make him pray a long time first.
On the up side they set me up with a home networking thing at work. Or they tried to anyway. It doesn't work. I can connect but apparently there is no where to go. I'm stumped. They should have a manual on this. It's truly annoying. Well just one more small step on my quest to work from home.
I'm working on a plan to do web design from home so eventually I can quit. But that's way down the road. I did spend a butt load of money on Creative Suite 2 Studio 8 Web bundle. Actually I got it at an Academic discount which is still pricey. But better than the 2K or so that it would cost retail.
I'm planning to go do a SALSA class tomorrow morning at 7am. but I don't know if I'll make it. That's SALSA as in the Red Cross's Save A Live SAturday CPR classes. It's not the early hour, it's the nasty rain and hail we're supposed to be getting. The last thing I want to do is end up wrapped around a telephone pole and have to get CPR done on me on my way to a CPR class. Now that would ironic.
Okay, but I'm going to make him pray a long time first.
On the up side they set me up with a home networking thing at work. Or they tried to anyway. It doesn't work. I can connect but apparently there is no where to go. I'm stumped. They should have a manual on this. It's truly annoying. Well just one more small step on my quest to work from home.
I'm working on a plan to do web design from home so eventually I can quit. But that's way down the road. I did spend a butt load of money on Creative Suite 2 Studio 8 Web bundle. Actually I got it at an Academic discount which is still pricey. But better than the 2K or so that it would cost retail.
I'm planning to go do a SALSA class tomorrow morning at 7am. but I don't know if I'll make it. That's SALSA as in the Red Cross's Save A Live SAturday CPR classes. It's not the early hour, it's the nasty rain and hail we're supposed to be getting. The last thing I want to do is end up wrapped around a telephone pole and have to get CPR done on me on my way to a CPR class. Now that would ironic.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Uh hello...
Anybody still out there? Sorry I haven't been posting. Figured I should actually start doing some work... ya know... while I'm at work. That and the fact that they blocked all blogspot addresses. Hehehe... I guess SOMEBODY was visting too many blogs on company time. Sheesh, some people huh? What slackers! Fortunately, I'm hard at work keeping the place together.
Well, I'll have to catch you all up on the goings on later this weekend. But I am alive. Fear not. Still not pregnant yet, but having a grand old time trying. In fact we are planning a honeymoon follow-up for this coming May. Going back to the same place. Very cool.
Anyways, hope ya'll are okay. I'll check in on ya as I get the chance.
Well, I'll have to catch you all up on the goings on later this weekend. But I am alive. Fear not. Still not pregnant yet, but having a grand old time trying. In fact we are planning a honeymoon follow-up for this coming May. Going back to the same place. Very cool.
Anyways, hope ya'll are okay. I'll check in on ya as I get the chance.
Monday, January 23, 2006
I'm soo COOL!
What mythological creature are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
A UNICORN: "When the first breath of winter through the flowers is icing,And you look to the North, and a pale moon is rising,And it seems like all is dying,And wold leave the world to mourn,In the distance hear the laughter of the last unicorn!"Unicorns are well known as the protectors of the forest. They are seen as a symbol for purity. Hence, their white coat. You are wise and like the fairy you love earth's creatures. You are compassionate, yet its hard for you to regret past experiences because you believe that with experience comes respect and wisdom. You live by the motto "knowledge is power." While your advice is worth while, not everyone is willing to listen because they don't understand you. But know that they are foolish to not listen. People take your timidnes coldly, therefore you only have a few select friends. But you except this and wouldn't have it any other way. You are secretive and never lie. You aren't afraid of death and acknowledge that your time will come. You have a quiet radiance and you obtain secrets that not even the ancient vampire knows.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Oh My Gosh! It's ALL TRUE
Got this one from Brooke. It's scary how accurate this is. Especial #8... fortunately my husband is made of sturdy stuff.
Ten Top Trivia Tips about Girl With an Alibi!
- Girl With an Alibi is the last letter of the Greek alphabet.
- Humans share over 98 percent of their DNA with Girl With an Alibi.
- Humans have 46 chromosomes, peas have 14, and Girl With an Alibi has 7.
- Girl With an Alibi can eat up to four kilograms of insects in a single night.
- Girl With an Alibi will always turn right when leaving a cave!
- Asixteenthcenturymathematician lost his nose in a duel over his love forGirl Withan Alibi,and wore a silver replacement for the rest of his life.
- The porpoise is second to Girl With an Alibi as the most intelligent animal on the planet.
- Over 2000 people have now climbed Girl With an Alibi, with roughly ten percent dying on the way down.
- Girl With an Alibi is the only king without a moustache on the standard pack of cards.
- White chocolate isn't technically chocolate, because it doesn't contain Girl With an Alibi!
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Dumb.
I came across this page explaining how one self-diagnoses "whooping cough" (don't ask me why). There are four questions. All I want to know is why do they even put question number 1? I mean seriously who answers "no" to that?
http://www.whoopingcough.net/self-diagnosis.htm
http://www.whoopingcough.net/self-diagnosis.htm
Friday, January 13, 2006
Maimed... er, Memed by Christine
Christine has tagged me in a meme. I couldn't answer all four questions but I figured I'd better post what I could since apparently I'll lose points for lateness.
Okay Christine here ya go...
Okay Christine here ya go...
- Hum a jingle of which you know all the words. LOUDER!!Ok, now write it down so we can remember it too.
”Oh I wish I was an Oscar Meyer Weiner That is what I’d truly like to beeeee. Cause if I was an Oscar Meyer Weiner. Everyone would be in love with meeeeeeee…” - As a kid, you played a board game over and over. And you cheated you little bastard. What was the game? Damn! How did you know? There were two actually. Life and Monopoly. I played with my cousin Rhea and the boy from next door whose name was Merschell. We’d play out on my grandmothers porch. At some point during the game Mersh and I would send Rhea into the house for snacks while she was gone we’d steal her money. When she caught on to that and started taking her money with her, we changed tactics and raid the bank. She’d come back and we’d have fistfulls of money which we’d deny stealing until we were blue in the face.
- What is the name of the song that you have been singing the incorrect words all these years? What were you singing? What should you have been singing? I’m gonna have to get back to you on this one cause honestly I don’t know the words to most songs. I just sort of humm the parts I don’t know.
- What is the most embarrassing childhood story that your parents drag out just to fuck with you for their own private amusement. That story would be the time when my mom put little 3 year-old me down for a nap and then came back to check on me later. She found me in the bathroom eating her cold cream. So she gave me a swat on the butt and I started to cry. She then decided I looked so funny that she had to take a picture. At this point in the story she whips out this picture…
I’ve heard this story so often that I now tell it myself so really it no longer fucks with me like it used to. (Do I get a bonus point for illustrations?)
Feel free to tag yourself.
Thursday, January 12, 2006
My Stripper Song
Monday, January 09, 2006
Because I love Matt Soooo Much...
Matt at Cerulean Blue has tagged me for a meme that I just did. But due to my great love for Matt and since there's such a wealth of quirkiness in my personality (and because I have nothing else to talk about) here's
5 MORE weird things about me!
5 MORE weird things about me!
- When people cut me off on the road while driving, I like to imagine that I have super mental powers or magical abilities and that I can just lift their car up with my mind and put them on the side of the road where they will be inexplicably stalled out for an hour or that I can magically transport them to some grubby little street in Bangkok. It’s my version of creative road rage.
- I’m trying to train my cats to give me back massages. They’ll do tummy massages but for some reason if they can’t look you in the eye Shi-cat-su as I call it is out of the question.
- Automatic - Chevette. Standard - Prelude. Automatic - Carolla. Standard - Tercel. Automatic. – RAV4. That's the pattern of the types of transmissions I’ve had in my cars since I started driving. It’s getting to close to the time to get a new car. I want to get an Automatic but I secretly feel compelled to continue the pattern of alternating between Automatics and stick shifts. It’s causing me no end of angst.
- Besides imagining how I could die on a daily basis I also imagine winning the lottery. I go through how I would spend the money, who I’d share it with, etc. This has become more complicated since I got married. Because even though the odds of me ever winning are practically zero, I still feel like I have to compromise with my husband on how to spend my imaginary money.
- I think french fries are the world’s most perfect food. Especially my french fries. And I can’t eat french fries without thinking of my Uncle Dean, who was the first person to make me homemade french fries. That could be why he's my favorite uncle.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Amazing... but what exit?
VOORHEES, N.J. - Curiosity didn't kill one cat on a wild ride on the New Jersey Turnpike. The kitten, now known, for obvious reasons, as Miracle, hitchhiked a ride on the underbelly of a sport utility vehicle just before Christmas.
The gray and white feline traveled some 70 miles under the vehicle as it whizzed along the Turnpike on Dec. 23.
Click the title to read the whole story...
The gray and white feline traveled some 70 miles under the vehicle as it whizzed along the Turnpike on Dec. 23.
Click the title to read the whole story...
Who are you and what do you want?
Well here it is. The new year. I need to make some resolutions. But what do I want? What do I want to accomplish? What do I want to be? What changes do I want to make?
I want to be in better health. I want to spend my money wisely and save more. I want to be satisfied with and grateful for the things I have instead of always wanting more. I want to be a mom. I want to write more and to be a better writer. I want to start my own business. I want to work from home. I want to be happy. I want to be closer to God (not in a “be dead” way but in a “closer walk with thee” way.)
So here be my resolutions for 2006...
I want to be in better health. I want to spend my money wisely and save more. I want to be satisfied with and grateful for the things I have instead of always wanting more. I want to be a mom. I want to write more and to be a better writer. I want to start my own business. I want to work from home. I want to be happy. I want to be closer to God (not in a “be dead” way but in a “closer walk with thee” way.)
So here be my resolutions for 2006...
- To get some form of exercise at least 2 times a week (already had sex twice this week so I’m on a roll!)
- To wear more hats – literally. I spent a lot of money on hats last year and I need to make them count.
- To get pregnant.
- To (depending on the timing of #3) give birth.
- To turn 39 (if I don’t accomplish that then there’s pretty much no chance of the rest of these as my birthday is like 27 days off.)
- To pray more.
- With the help of #6 to determine what my new business should be.
- To publish my book of short stories.
- To make progress and perhaps finish the novel I started 3 years ago
- To learn to play guitar reasonably well
- To eat less red meat and eat healthier in general.
- To practice compassion.
- To write more letters to the people I love (not just emails but actual letters.)
- To start a real retirement plan and behave more fiscally responsibly
- To actually stick at least one of these resolutions… other than the hats.
Alibi's False Idol: Starbucks' New Cinnamon Dulce Latte
Mmmmmm.....
Bow down and worship ye mortals!
So "nummy" my heretic tastebuds have pledged themselves to this and the high priestess Blueberry Muffin.
I'm going to have to make sure I take communion soon to keep them from eternal damnation.
Bow down and worship ye mortals!
So "nummy" my heretic tastebuds have pledged themselves to this and the high priestess Blueberry Muffin.
I'm going to have to make sure I take communion soon to keep them from eternal damnation.
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