Seeing a dead dog on the side of the road brings me to my knees, zaps everything I have gathered inside me to face the day, leaves me parched and aching like a dry socket after a wisdom tooth removal.
What's your kryptonite?
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
let down
I've been looking forward to it since last night. Husband was supposed to do it for me, but he was distracted and promised to take care of it first thing this morning. I figured that probably wouldn't happen-- he's too busy in the mornings, after sleeping that extra ten minutes in, to even take care of his own needs, much less mine. So I did it myself-- retrieved my instruments from their hidey-holes, laid out a surface on which to perform, and went to work. Satisfied, I cleaned up, packaged my results, and went off to work.
I made myself wait until 10:30. It was sitting there, staring at me, condensation and sweet nectar collecting on the skin, glinting at me through the clear plastic box. Finally, 10:30, and I popped the top. The flesh, like skin too long in the summer sun, had faded from bright white to spotty tan, but I knew that the sweet juiciness would not be affected. Picking out a large sliver and holding it delicately between my thumb and forefinger, my teeth sliced down through the pulp, pulling and tearing when the outer skin was reached. Munching away, at first happy and finally sated, I frowned. Not sweet, not juicy, not tasty at all. Like bland, tasteless, brown mush. Just about the worst apple ever.
I hope that doesn't say something for the fate of my day.
I made myself wait until 10:30. It was sitting there, staring at me, condensation and sweet nectar collecting on the skin, glinting at me through the clear plastic box. Finally, 10:30, and I popped the top. The flesh, like skin too long in the summer sun, had faded from bright white to spotty tan, but I knew that the sweet juiciness would not be affected. Picking out a large sliver and holding it delicately between my thumb and forefinger, my teeth sliced down through the pulp, pulling and tearing when the outer skin was reached. Munching away, at first happy and finally sated, I frowned. Not sweet, not juicy, not tasty at all. Like bland, tasteless, brown mush. Just about the worst apple ever.
I hope that doesn't say something for the fate of my day.
Friday, August 20, 2010
on my mind
My brain won't stop today. Here's what's racing through:
1) How old do you have to be to not have acne anymore? Who created and perpetrated the lie that it's only for teenagers? Surely 28 is old enough to have "adult" skin? I have to go to a baby shower tomorrow looking like I'm not even old enough to have friends who can have kids.
2) I need another vacation, but I just got back from one. Here's a picture I took. I want to live in this picture. It's now my desktop background, so it's too bad I keep having work piled on top of it... excel is so ugly in comparison.
3) I want Chinese food for dinner, but I want a buffet, but I don't want to go sit down with people to eat it. Do they do to-go buffets?
4) I feel like a terrible person when I get annoyed that my parents are coming up, once again, this weekend to stay. They stay in our guest room, fyi. But they raised me, the least I can do is put them up a few nights a month, right? All I want to do is lay on the couch and wallow (see #1), not entertain or even be looked at.
5) Most of the annoyance this time comes from the fact that they want me to help them, at 7 a.m., with a garage sale at their storage unit here. Ugh. I'm a good daughter, I'm a good daughter...
6) Some days I feel trapped, but not my by husband or my animals, but mostly by the "conventions" of life like houses and jobs. I want to roam around, barefoot and wild, like buying an RV and driving driving driving. But I like showers and luxuries and home too. So it doesn't last long.
7) There are times I feel like I'm walking a dream, that I'll wake up and get back to my normal life, which has to be much more fatastical than this, where I'm a different person, one not trapped by my insecurities or failings or ineptitudes. Because why would creatures such as humans, who are given the ability to do such wonderful and amazing things like think and write and make music be destined to live such boring and sad existances? Why do only 1 in 10 of us actually do something with ourselves with the short time we're given? Why do the rest of us wallow in anonymity and medocrity and self-pity and patheticness?
8) I need a coke.
9) Boone is a great dog with a great personality, and I love him. But I will never love him the way I love Bub. Why is that? Maybe it just takes time. Scares me even more about having children. As my husband would say, "reason #1,490,583 not to have kids."
10) I think if I were to ever sing karoke, which would probably only happen in the world from #7, if even there, I would sing Always on my Mind. I particulaly like Willie Nelson's version because his voice sounds like a dad singing to a daughter and for some reason that gets me. Why this song? Because it's a beautiful song, but also because there are no huge notes to fail miserably when you try to hit and no long periods of time with no singing where everyone is watching you expecting you to dance or do something to fill the void between words flashing up on the screen for you to sing. And people stop and listen to it whenever it comes on. I don't think I've ever met anyone who could listen to this song without feeling something, without stopping and thinking about someone you weren't good to, someone you took for granted, someone you miss. Try it.
1) How old do you have to be to not have acne anymore? Who created and perpetrated the lie that it's only for teenagers? Surely 28 is old enough to have "adult" skin? I have to go to a baby shower tomorrow looking like I'm not even old enough to have friends who can have kids.
2) I need another vacation, but I just got back from one. Here's a picture I took. I want to live in this picture. It's now my desktop background, so it's too bad I keep having work piled on top of it... excel is so ugly in comparison.
 |
| the view from the edge of Charleston, SC |
4) I feel like a terrible person when I get annoyed that my parents are coming up, once again, this weekend to stay. They stay in our guest room, fyi. But they raised me, the least I can do is put them up a few nights a month, right? All I want to do is lay on the couch and wallow (see #1), not entertain or even be looked at.
5) Most of the annoyance this time comes from the fact that they want me to help them, at 7 a.m., with a garage sale at their storage unit here. Ugh. I'm a good daughter, I'm a good daughter...
6) Some days I feel trapped, but not my by husband or my animals, but mostly by the "conventions" of life like houses and jobs. I want to roam around, barefoot and wild, like buying an RV and driving driving driving. But I like showers and luxuries and home too. So it doesn't last long.
7) There are times I feel like I'm walking a dream, that I'll wake up and get back to my normal life, which has to be much more fatastical than this, where I'm a different person, one not trapped by my insecurities or failings or ineptitudes. Because why would creatures such as humans, who are given the ability to do such wonderful and amazing things like think and write and make music be destined to live such boring and sad existances? Why do only 1 in 10 of us actually do something with ourselves with the short time we're given? Why do the rest of us wallow in anonymity and medocrity and self-pity and patheticness?
8) I need a coke.
9) Boone is a great dog with a great personality, and I love him. But I will never love him the way I love Bub. Why is that? Maybe it just takes time. Scares me even more about having children. As my husband would say, "reason #1,490,583 not to have kids."
10) I think if I were to ever sing karoke, which would probably only happen in the world from #7, if even there, I would sing Always on my Mind. I particulaly like Willie Nelson's version because his voice sounds like a dad singing to a daughter and for some reason that gets me. Why this song? Because it's a beautiful song, but also because there are no huge notes to fail miserably when you try to hit and no long periods of time with no singing where everyone is watching you expecting you to dance or do something to fill the void between words flashing up on the screen for you to sing. And people stop and listen to it whenever it comes on. I don't think I've ever met anyone who could listen to this song without feeling something, without stopping and thinking about someone you weren't good to, someone you took for granted, someone you miss. Try it.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
dog whisperer I am not
dom·i·nant [dom-uh-nuhnt]
–adjective
1. ruling, governing, or controlling; having or exerting authority or influence: dominant in the chain of command.
2. occupying or being in a commanding or elevated position.
al·pha [al-fuh]
–adjective
a. (esp. of animals) having the highest rank of its sex in a dominance hierarchy: the alpha female.
b. being the most prominent, talented, or aggressive person in a group
Neither of these adjectives describe me at home. Now, at work-- that's a different story. As I've mentioned recently, I am two different people: one, at work, is self-assured, authoritative, and unafraid. The other, at home, is meek, still, and quiet. I could be neither one without the other-- one is my relief from the other.
I will fully recognize that I let Bub run my house too much. He's small and doesn't ask for much, so to let him lead on walks or beg for food or jump on the couch without asking really didn't affect my life that much in any negative way. Throw this big, lumbering, clumsy, teenage puppy into the mix, though, and we've got a problem. And I think he's big now... no telling the mess he'll be able to make when he's full grown if I don't nip this in the bud right now. By the way, we've named him Boone.
I've been researching puppy training. I've always watched the dog whisperer and agree with his reinforcement and calm-assertive techniques. The problem isn't the dog; it's me. I feel myself getting frustrated, pent-up anger boiling inside my chest, yelling instead of calmly and directly giving instructions. I wouldn't yell or get angry at work, so I don't know where that comes from at home. I guess it's because I am the other person at home, the quiet one who expects her world at home to be quiet as well, so when anything disturbs that it upsets me.
But I'm working on it, and we're getting there. It's a learning experience for both of us. I knew better than to get a puppy... but as puppies go, he's smart, well-meaning, quite calm actually, and can entertain himself for the most part. I've begun getting up at 7 a.m. to walk him before work, and I go home at lunch as well. At night we walk again, but anything beyond 15 minutes outside is too much. It's 104 here today. Fetch will come later this month, when the sun decides to stop trying to fry us like eggs.
He walks on a leash perfectly, I'll give him that. He occasionally gets excited and tries to pull, but one Cesar-style quick tug on the leash and he's back in line beside me. He can also sit on command about 90% of the time. The other 10% comes from him being a puppy with an attention span of about 3 seconds. He knows what to do, he's just not always listening.
We're learning down-- that's an easy one. Stay is the big problem. Again, with such a short attention span, to get him to pay attention to the fact that he should remain on his hindquarters for longer than it takes for me to step away is quite a feat. I need him to learn stay, though, because he bolts in and out of doors so quickly I know he's going to take me and Bub down with him eventually-- it's only a matter of time. I make him sit every time he wants something, whether it's food, a toy, to go out, or even a pat on the head. He's working for me. He resists my commands much more often than my husband's; I've decided it has to do with the tone of his voice, so now I boom out in a deep timber when I say SIT. It seems to also help if I over-enunciate the T, with a little spit at the end. Can you tell I'm over-analyzing?
I know what will help me the most will be to see continued progress with him and to gain confidence from that progress. What he needs from me most is for me to be a confident leader, like the people at work have, and not the quiet girl my husband knows best. I have to train myself first.
–adjective
1. ruling, governing, or controlling; having or exerting authority or influence: dominant in the chain of command.
2. occupying or being in a commanding or elevated position.
al·pha [al-fuh]
–adjective
a. (esp. of animals) having the highest rank of its sex in a dominance hierarchy: the alpha female.
b. being the most prominent, talented, or aggressive person in a group
Neither of these adjectives describe me at home. Now, at work-- that's a different story. As I've mentioned recently, I am two different people: one, at work, is self-assured, authoritative, and unafraid. The other, at home, is meek, still, and quiet. I could be neither one without the other-- one is my relief from the other.
I will fully recognize that I let Bub run my house too much. He's small and doesn't ask for much, so to let him lead on walks or beg for food or jump on the couch without asking really didn't affect my life that much in any negative way. Throw this big, lumbering, clumsy, teenage puppy into the mix, though, and we've got a problem. And I think he's big now... no telling the mess he'll be able to make when he's full grown if I don't nip this in the bud right now. By the way, we've named him Boone.
I've been researching puppy training. I've always watched the dog whisperer and agree with his reinforcement and calm-assertive techniques. The problem isn't the dog; it's me. I feel myself getting frustrated, pent-up anger boiling inside my chest, yelling instead of calmly and directly giving instructions. I wouldn't yell or get angry at work, so I don't know where that comes from at home. I guess it's because I am the other person at home, the quiet one who expects her world at home to be quiet as well, so when anything disturbs that it upsets me.
But I'm working on it, and we're getting there. It's a learning experience for both of us. I knew better than to get a puppy... but as puppies go, he's smart, well-meaning, quite calm actually, and can entertain himself for the most part. I've begun getting up at 7 a.m. to walk him before work, and I go home at lunch as well. At night we walk again, but anything beyond 15 minutes outside is too much. It's 104 here today. Fetch will come later this month, when the sun decides to stop trying to fry us like eggs.
He walks on a leash perfectly, I'll give him that. He occasionally gets excited and tries to pull, but one Cesar-style quick tug on the leash and he's back in line beside me. He can also sit on command about 90% of the time. The other 10% comes from him being a puppy with an attention span of about 3 seconds. He knows what to do, he's just not always listening.
We're learning down-- that's an easy one. Stay is the big problem. Again, with such a short attention span, to get him to pay attention to the fact that he should remain on his hindquarters for longer than it takes for me to step away is quite a feat. I need him to learn stay, though, because he bolts in and out of doors so quickly I know he's going to take me and Bub down with him eventually-- it's only a matter of time. I make him sit every time he wants something, whether it's food, a toy, to go out, or even a pat on the head. He's working for me. He resists my commands much more often than my husband's; I've decided it has to do with the tone of his voice, so now I boom out in a deep timber when I say SIT. It seems to also help if I over-enunciate the T, with a little spit at the end. Can you tell I'm over-analyzing?
I know what will help me the most will be to see continued progress with him and to gain confidence from that progress. What he needs from me most is for me to be a confident leader, like the people at work have, and not the quiet girl my husband knows best. I have to train myself first.
 |
| Boone and Bub, on their first day together. Bub has claimed Boone's new bed, and Boone is trying desperately to get Bub to play with him. |
Friday, July 30, 2010
signs that your husband loves you
6) Even though he's not quite sure about the whole thing, he lets you adopt a dog in need, and then comments on how good it does feel to save one and very happily tries to think of a name with you.
Meet the newest member of our clan... yet to be named (Buster? Buddy? Ernie? Petty? Hesus?), a five-month-old lab/pointer mix from the local shelter, found abandoned and starving at a run-down apartment complex, now to be loved and spoiled and cherished his whole life:
7) All these things and so many more tiny things, like reaching out and squeezing my knee while he's driving, or running his hand down my back while we wait on a table at a restaurant, or letting me have the last of the peach cobbler, or sending me flowers even when I told him not to, with a handwritten card so sweet it brought tears to my eyes...
If I could give any advice to anyone on how to find a mate, I would say, "Find your best friend, and marry them!" Living every day with him is a joy, not a job, and I wouldn't trade any of it, not the worsts, not the struggles, not the sicknesses, not any of it.
Meet the newest member of our clan... yet to be named (Buster? Buddy? Ernie? Petty? Hesus?), a five-month-old lab/pointer mix from the local shelter, found abandoned and starving at a run-down apartment complex, now to be loved and spoiled and cherished his whole life:
7) All these things and so many more tiny things, like reaching out and squeezing my knee while he's driving, or running his hand down my back while we wait on a table at a restaurant, or letting me have the last of the peach cobbler, or sending me flowers even when I told him not to, with a handwritten card so sweet it brought tears to my eyes...
Thursday, July 29, 2010
signs that your husband loves you
5) He has to kiss you goodbye three times before he leaves for the day.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
signs that your husband loves you
2) When he uses his earned free Chinese buffet (buy 9, get the 10th free) to take you to lunch.
3) If he can't make reservations at the restaurant you want because it's closed for a private party the night of your anniversary, he makes plans to take you instead to the restaurant where you had your first date, and then makes reservations for Sunday brunch at the restaurant you wanted to go to in the first place. All to make you happy, even though a frozen pizza would be fine, as long as you're with him.
4) When you get up for work on the morning of his day off, he cajoles you to spend an extra five minutes in bed so you can rub his head and talk to him about his plans for the day.
3) If he can't make reservations at the restaurant you want because it's closed for a private party the night of your anniversary, he makes plans to take you instead to the restaurant where you had your first date, and then makes reservations for Sunday brunch at the restaurant you wanted to go to in the first place. All to make you happy, even though a frozen pizza would be fine, as long as you're with him.
4) When you get up for work on the morning of his day off, he cajoles you to spend an extra five minutes in bed so you can rub his head and talk to him about his plans for the day.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
signs that your husband loves you
Friday is my fifth wedding anniversary. In celebration, I'm going to be naming things this week that show, even after five years, an international move, loss of loved ones, buying a house, finding jobs, and becoming adults, it's possible to still be totally and completely in love with someone.
1) When you turn over in the middle of the night, half-awake, and the cover slides down off your arm a little, exposing some skin, and you feel your husband reach over and quietly and gently slide the sheet back up over your arm to protect you, you know you're really loved.
1) When you turn over in the middle of the night, half-awake, and the cover slides down off your arm a little, exposing some skin, and you feel your husband reach over and quietly and gently slide the sheet back up over your arm to protect you, you know you're really loved.
Monday, July 26, 2010
the real me
Please excuse the cryptic nature of my last post. It was a late-night thought, one that was rattling around in my head as I tried to find sleep after a tough Friday, and I figured if I put it out there, on "paper," it would stop assaulting my brain so I could get some sleep. It worked, thankfully.
I also think, on occasion, you get better answers if you lead with the question rather than the explanation, and that also worked this time, thankfully. Thank you for your comments, they were all very provoking.
On to the explanation. My boss forced me to have a conversation with Emily on Friday. He sat down as the mediator and made us talk to each other honestly about the tension that's been between us for the last couple months. She explained that this is her first real job, and as she watched me take on new duties in my stride, she began to get nervous about her place here, plus with all the growth we've had she's been stressed out anyway. This caused her to freak out and tell me a couple different times that she "didn't care anymore" and that she wanted to quit.
I, in turn, stopped caring about her. In my mind, if she was done with us, if she was on the way out the door, then what was the point of having conversations with her and debating points with her? Why should she get a say in anything if she didn't care anymore?
She told me that she's fine now, that she's over that feeling, that she's found her place and she's happy. It's true that she and my boss aren't fighting anymore, which I'm sure was causing some of those issues.
But I, being me, feel myself not being "over" it. I still feel uneasy with her, unable to trust that she's not going to get stressed out and threaten to quit all over again. I feel like maybe she showed me her true colors. We all get overwhelmed and worried and panicked sometimes, but I see now how she reacts to that-- like a child throwing a tantrum rather than a rational adult. Of course she and I are exact opposites (quite literally), so I probably shouldn't expect any different, but I would at least hope that she would recognize that both as her friend and the manager of HR for our company, she shouldn't drag me under with her when she starts to flail. It wouldn't help either of us.
I suppose I, as her friend, should have recognized what her struggle was really about, but I've never been very good at reaching out to those in need in any emotional way. I am guarded. I give rational advice, not a shoulder for irrational fears. I always have been and probably always will be this way. I learned very early on that I am too soft-hearted to let most people in. I nearly lost myself at 12 when my brother threatened to rip me to pieces, and so the wall went up. I really think if I took it down for the wrong person I could lose myself again.
I steel myself up continually, swallow down that part of me that really just wants to weep for the state of the world, and face the day bravely, with a cold stare and a raised eyebrow, because it's all I know how to do. I think if I were to let go, there would be nothing left to gather back in. The world sees me as cold and stoic, but those that I've let in know the truth about me, that I'm a blubbering idiot with a heart of mush. Just ask my husband. I feel schizophrenic, that there are people in the world who, when I do something at work like laugh and lightly skip down the hall, look at me and say, "Wow, I've never seen that side of you before." While others, when they visit me at work or listen to me speak to an outsider, say, "Where did that come from?" in reference to my cool or logical tone.
I am both of these people, I need both of these people in order to survive, and one is not whole without the other. The problem occurs when they try to meet, like when a coworker is also a friend, or when a family member becomes an outsider by breaking my trust, and my heart. Then I get confused and am never sure how to react or who to be. Which one is the real me? Which one do I prefer? Neither, and both.
I also think, on occasion, you get better answers if you lead with the question rather than the explanation, and that also worked this time, thankfully. Thank you for your comments, they were all very provoking.
On to the explanation. My boss forced me to have a conversation with Emily on Friday. He sat down as the mediator and made us talk to each other honestly about the tension that's been between us for the last couple months. She explained that this is her first real job, and as she watched me take on new duties in my stride, she began to get nervous about her place here, plus with all the growth we've had she's been stressed out anyway. This caused her to freak out and tell me a couple different times that she "didn't care anymore" and that she wanted to quit.
I, in turn, stopped caring about her. In my mind, if she was done with us, if she was on the way out the door, then what was the point of having conversations with her and debating points with her? Why should she get a say in anything if she didn't care anymore?
She told me that she's fine now, that she's over that feeling, that she's found her place and she's happy. It's true that she and my boss aren't fighting anymore, which I'm sure was causing some of those issues.
But I, being me, feel myself not being "over" it. I still feel uneasy with her, unable to trust that she's not going to get stressed out and threaten to quit all over again. I feel like maybe she showed me her true colors. We all get overwhelmed and worried and panicked sometimes, but I see now how she reacts to that-- like a child throwing a tantrum rather than a rational adult. Of course she and I are exact opposites (quite literally), so I probably shouldn't expect any different, but I would at least hope that she would recognize that both as her friend and the manager of HR for our company, she shouldn't drag me under with her when she starts to flail. It wouldn't help either of us.
I suppose I, as her friend, should have recognized what her struggle was really about, but I've never been very good at reaching out to those in need in any emotional way. I am guarded. I give rational advice, not a shoulder for irrational fears. I always have been and probably always will be this way. I learned very early on that I am too soft-hearted to let most people in. I nearly lost myself at 12 when my brother threatened to rip me to pieces, and so the wall went up. I really think if I took it down for the wrong person I could lose myself again.
I steel myself up continually, swallow down that part of me that really just wants to weep for the state of the world, and face the day bravely, with a cold stare and a raised eyebrow, because it's all I know how to do. I think if I were to let go, there would be nothing left to gather back in. The world sees me as cold and stoic, but those that I've let in know the truth about me, that I'm a blubbering idiot with a heart of mush. Just ask my husband. I feel schizophrenic, that there are people in the world who, when I do something at work like laugh and lightly skip down the hall, look at me and say, "Wow, I've never seen that side of you before." While others, when they visit me at work or listen to me speak to an outsider, say, "Where did that come from?" in reference to my cool or logical tone.
I am both of these people, I need both of these people in order to survive, and one is not whole without the other. The problem occurs when they try to meet, like when a coworker is also a friend, or when a family member becomes an outsider by breaking my trust, and my heart. Then I get confused and am never sure how to react or who to be. Which one is the real me? Which one do I prefer? Neither, and both.
Friday, July 23, 2010
self-reflection
My trust is not easily won and then not easily lost. Once lost, however, it's near impossible to win back. I don't think this is a good thing. If I know this about myself, why can I not change it?
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