Category Archives: Full moon? High tide?

Consistency, consistency, consistency…

That word ::shudder::  has become the bane of my existence. At work, one of the major reasons I’m not being offered a promotion is due to a lack of consistency. We have productivity requirements to meet and of course we’re supposed to strive to exceed the base, and my numbers the last few months have been less than exceptional. Hell, some months have been less than ideal. So when I speak to my manager about my knowledge, and how I meet all other requirements for the next level up, she continues to point out my lack of consistency as the main reason why I am still not yet considered for “Senior” status.

Take my blog here as a second brilliant example of my issues with consistency. Time and time again, I log in here, write down some bs about what’s going on in my lessthaneventfilled life, and vow once more to begin posting something with some sort of CONSISTENCY. Then a month goes by, I’ve not posted two words, and the vicious cycle starts all over again.

Interestingly enough, the one place in my life where I’ve had some SORT of consistency would be my relationships. I always find myself with men who are not a good match for me, for one reason or another. They never want or are able to make me a priority; they tend to be emotionally unable to connect with me, which literally kills me as I am very emotionally needy; or they ended up using me as companionship so that they didn’t have to be alone. Do I like, value myself so little that I throw myself immediately towards any man who shows me care and affection, regardless as to whether or not he’d ever be able to meet MY needs, and simply because I tend to misplace my sense of self in the need to care and/or FIX people, or something?

HOLY SHIT. I think I just channeled my therapist for a second, but DAMN that makes some sense!

It’s hard sometimes to see the things that you do and how they affect the way that people treat you and what you accept as appropriate behavior. I’ve been working the last couple of months at really paying attention to what I want instead of what everyone else wants. I’m trying to do the things that make ME happy and doing those sorts of things often. I’ve been honest and straight forward – no games, no innuendos and absolutely no longer allowing interest from a guy alone be enough to make me consider him as a potential partner. I told a guy today that I just didn’t think anything was going to happen for me, and I felt kind of bad about it before and after I told him, but shortly afterwards,  I started to feel better. I started feeling better because I was being true to myself, and not allowing anyone else to influence my decisions or what I do. Sure, it might have meant a free meal and a couple of laughs, but if I already know that I just don’t feel anything romantic towards him at all, is it really FAIR of me to lead him on just long enough to meet? My decision is that it’s  not. I’d rather not waste the gas.

Yes, I’ve decided that my efforts these days will be directed towards myself, and no one else. I’m going to do what I want to do and I’m not going to care about other people’s opinions. It looks like I’ve had my priorities misplaced and I need to have myself together before I can expect any man to want to be with me for anything long term. I’m still going to continue dating, I think, whenever someone comes along that I feel the want to talk to in person, but otherwise, I’m going to live my life. I’m going to start going to a yoga class this week and I’m going to get exercising and taking care of ME. That means quitting smoking, again, but I need to for my overall health’s sake. I’m going to finish the pack I have, and do my best to avoid buying another one. I have gas in my car, food and red bull in my fridge, so I should be able to avoid the Hill for at least a few days as way of supporting my attempt of quitting, especially now that every one who works there knows my brand. Oy. It’s time to start being consistent about my health and my life and my job – the things that define ME, instead of spending all of my energy on others so that they can feel better about themselves, leaving me drained and fending for myself. My expectation and hope is that once I’m more balanced in that way, the rest of these things that I want and continue not being able to find, should fall into place. Hopefully, redirecting my energy towards bettering myself will extend outwards to others I meet, attracting the appropriate kind of men, and allowing me to make logical, intelligent, selfish decisions on who deserves my time. Go. Me.


The truth hurts

There once was a time in my life where I would have forgiven anyone for anything, short of murder, or being the keystone of the Apocalypse. But I learned something about myself today that I didn’t know was possible before – I can actually hold a grudge against someone who has wronged me. It’s not something I do regularly and it’s not something that I have as a goal in life, but there are times when forgiveness is not an option, and I found my first circumstance for that today.

A person that I used to be friends with reached out to me via email to just say “Hi”. Keep in mind that the last communication I had with this person was over a year and a half ago, and it was in the form of another email sent by the person, which, long story short, insulted who I am as a person, and basically told me that I was the cause of this persons unhappiness. First of all, anyone who thinks anyone outside of themselves could be responsible for their sadness, or happiness for that matter, needs to seek therapy. I did, and I recognize now that I am responsible for myself and no one else – and in a lot of ways, that realization has been liberating. Secondly, the email was signed off with something along the lines of OH, AND BEFORE I FORGET, NOW THAT I’VE TOLD YOU THAT YOU SUCK, YOU AREN’T ALLOWED TO COMMENT BACK. DON’T CONTACT ME. Fair? Hardly. But, I tried to be the bigger person, and at the advise of my therapist, I did NOT reply – not because the person “told” me not to, but because it was supposed to have a bigger impact on this person than any comment I could have possibly made would have.

Unfortunately for me, I can’t follow my own advise for too long, and today’s random email struck a long quelled nerve and I couldn’t stop my fingers from typing a retort. I cleared most of what I said with my boyfriend before sending, so as to try to avoid sticking my foot in my mouth in the heat of anger, but there were a few impromptu responses where my mouse migrated to that damn SEND button faster than an Oreo goes to my thighs. I probably should have tried to be more understanding, but somewhere deep inside of me, allowing this person to gain the peace of mind I feel that they were seeking meant being weak. Weakness is worse than death to me anymore – weak mindedness, weak spiritedness, physical weakness – all lead back down the path where I once was in life, and I don’t want to go back there EVER. AGAIN. With that said, could I have chosen to be forgiving to the only person who ever insulted who I AM? Yes, I could have. But that would that have made me feel that I was sacrificing something about myself that I have worked long and hard to attain – my pride and self worth. And rule number one is that I am the most important person to me, and no one else. So I have to take care of me, like no one else can. Harsh? Maybe. Real? Definitely.


Stoic people actually trim hedges

I have decided to rekindle my blogging while I am in a shit, depressed mood as this is usually when I do my best writing, nonetheless. Last night I had a friend essentially tell me off in an unprompted and rather curt way and that encounter has left me feeling a little, ok, a LOT under the weather. Some may remember how a similar thing happened to me last year, where a few women who I thought were my friends, ended up stabbing me in the back or just plain old forgetting about me, but, I have to admit that the debacle from last eve makes those women seem like fairy princesses who made me hand woven blankets of sugar and spice.

I’m up to a nice, round, even number of people in the last 18 months who have removed themselves from my list of contacts – last night makes 6 – And while I like even numbers and all, this is just getting RIDICULOUS. I’m starting to feel like I am seriously dysfunctional, like I have a legitimate defect about me which causes people to drop me like a leper who doesn’t understand what PERSONAL SPACE means. Maybe I throw too much of myself into friendships, and end up expecting more out of people than they can actually give. Maybe I allow everyone else to borrow my energy, but never ask for any in return, thus making me out to be a push-over and an easy target for misdirected aggression. Maybe I’m so insecure with myself that I latch hold of people who I think NEED me, and through that, find a sort of value for myself, but can never really evolve into the equal contribution which ANY relationship, platonic or romantic, should be. Or maybe I’m just fucking crazy and attract crazies. Who knows?

My family is aware of my struggles, and my mom’s supportive, yet misguided, answer to all of my emotional problems is to always go do some yard work. Seeing how my mother never lets things get to her as easily as I do, or at least is better at hiding her emotional duress than I am, I thought WHAT THE HELL? and tonight I mowed, weed whacked, weeded my brick patios and edged my walk in an attempt to walk off my injury. I have to admit, those 4 hours I spent in my backyard went by much faster than a similar length of time spent with my ass embraced in the soft, chocolate colored micro-suede fabric that is my couch, but I still can’t seem to shake off the feelings of desertion and disconnect that I’ve been left with since yesterday – maybe I should have pruned some trees, too?


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I’ll see your ‘Fat Face’ and raise you a ‘Eat shit & die’

I am lucky enough to work from home a couple of days a week. In light of that amazing perk, one would imagine that dealing with traffic only 3 out of 7 days would give me more of a buffer zone for idiots, however, one would assume that INCORRECTLY. Apparently, either my tolerance for people en mass has gone down, or society in general is deteriorating by the day.

This morning on my way in, I happened to end up behind a big, diesel, maroon, Dodge pickup truck. Simply by my inclusion of the words DIESEL and PICKUP TRUCK, you should have been able to gather that I was dealing with what most people would call a RED NECK. There were no antlers tied to the hood or brass balls hanging from the trailer hitch, but there was a slight hint of asshole in the air the first time that we passed a dotted yellow line. He went from teeter-tottering around the speed limit to EIGHTY (80!) in like, two seconds and then slowed back to the speed limit as soon as the double yellow reformed. After this pattern repeated between a couple of the passing zones, I began to realize it was intentional, and that the driver was not in fact, having a seizure.

Unfortunately for me, my heritage includes large chunks of Italian and German – and by that, I am trying to invoke the reference strictly to illustrate temperament – and instead of resigning to call an asshole an asshole, I retaliated. I attempted to pass a couple of times, one of which I was almost forced off of the road by this dude, only to eventually end up following him until there were multiple, single direction lanes, and most importantly…WITNESSES.

At the next light, he pulled into the left turn lane as I wanted to go straight; I saw the passenger window come down and thought “REDEMPTION!” only to be leered at by two skinny, tooth missing, Klan wanna-be, exclusively monosyllabic processing, repulsive excuses for human beings who’s infantile reaction to me questioning what the HELL they had been doing was “You have a fat face!” So I made a pouty face, ran my finger down my cheek like I was chasing a tear, threatened a full scale police manhunt and then peeled away when the light turned green, deeming them, combined, as the Official 1st horseman of the pending Asshole Apocolypse – Conquest.

Anyone with Police ties in the state of Maryland or Pennsylvania, please contact me as I have a license plate and vehicle description that I’d like to track down the owner of in order to file a complaint/grievance/asshole report on. And yes, in my heart of hearts, I really do believe that such a thing exists.


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Letting a little crazy out

Today was not a good day. It wasn’t the most HORRIBLE day I’d ever experienced, but it definitely wasn’t one of the better ones, either. In fact, it’s defining distinction would have to have been it’s ability to make me feel like a complete dumbass who could screw up ice, if given the opportunity.

Most people know by now that I have issues (some of which revolve around my lack of self esteem) and my dips and climbs in and out of a depressed affect are just part and parcel of the emotional roller coaster which I call my life. Today’s dilemma proved to be blown slightly out of proportion by myself, but when you use work as a reference for how much you should value yourself, it’s easy to let your first mediocre screw up turn into a job threatening, multi-million dollar lawsuit. Mountains out of molehills, folks. Mountains out of molehills.

Sadly, my greatest talent is also my greatest flaw and it’s where I have bursts of reality and logic, which DO take their sweet time, but eventually bubble up to the surface enough to be acknowledged by my heightened emotional state.  Visually, it looks like brief moments of clarity coming in more frequent waves, washing over a face with swollen red eyes and a snot filled nose who is using her shirt as a tissue.  Why, you may ask? Because it’s always easier to be irrational first, that’s why. Especially when you are as ashamed of failure as I am.

Regardless of the outcome, I will sleep poorly tonight, if not medicated. You see, in the course of this matter, I have already envisioned this to be a job threatening situation – a situation in which I DEFINITELY contributed, but in no way was soley responsible – and yet while I logically know that it could have been much, much, much, much, much, MUCH worse, I still will not be able to get past this until the issue is completely resolved. Each time I get an email, my stomach will end up in my throat and my palms will get a little sweaty.

I wish I was one of those people who was able to cope with making a mistake. Those folks who don’t always have uncontrollable tears when they feel like they’ve disappointed someone, be it at work or at home. I want to be one of those people who can handle contructive criticism without taking it as a personal attack. Like those who also feel like it’s ok to not live up to some preconceived notion, and who in fact, can feel comfortable with screwing up once in a while. Ya know, people like that. Here’s to my up and coming Anniversary in Therapy.

*all together now, escalating*  YAAAY Therapy!


New and exciting things to obsess about

I’ve not been in a good place, mentally, the last couple of days. Overall, I’m feeling rather down and weepy and emotional and I’m trying to blame it on PMS and trying to quit smoking and stress and yet, I know the reality of it is….ME.  It can be summed up in 7 words by quoting a local hero, Mary Prankster, You’re not my problem. I’m my problem. Part of my depression is definitely due to the fact that my fantastically awesome boyfriend is out of town for the second week in a row and I am missing him something fierce even though he is supremely awesome at keeping my worries at bay. But the proverbial icing on the cake is my ability to DWELL on shit. Although I have this really loud, booming voice of logic which tells me I have no control over these things, and that everything happens for a reason, I just can’t shake off my crazy today.

I’m finding most of my remorse coming from the fact that in the last 4 months, I have lost 4 people who I had considered good friends, all for reasons unbeknownst to me. The way all 4 dissolution’s manifested was by them just closing me out of their lives. I’ve spent a lot of nights trying to make sense of WHY these women would ever have felt the need to block me out, and I gotta tell ya that aside from migraines, I’ve come up with nothing. One so-called friend has seemingly dropped me due to a guy, although I’m sure she would tell you otherwise, and despite the fact that she promised to never let such an atrocity happen, that is the best explanation I have come up with. Another is remaining loyal to the person she should, and although there is a huge level of discomfort around her, I knew it would play out this way, so I should have been better prepared. The third has been through some pretty trying times herself in the last few months, and for a while, I tried to blame it on that. But I can only fool myself for so long. And the 4th? Well, I don’t think I ever really meant anything to the 4th, I was someone to make her feel better about herself, and when I stopped being that person, my use had run out. Honestly though, she’s the least of my concerns.

I suppose that a lot of my obsession with the losses of these “friends” is because I typically make and maintain only the best of friends. Hell, most of the people I call my best friends today have been in my life for no less than 12 years. Only 2 are new additions and yet have managed to make our few years of friendship feel like a lifetime – and one of them happens to be my boyfriend. In the scheme of things, I’ve always valued friendships the most out of all things in life, and I believe more in quality as oppose to quantity, but I never thought that I would have misjudged the state of any relationship to the extent of which I have with these 4 women. And the worst part about it all is that I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT HAPPENED.

Today was not a good day (at 7:30 this evening I’ve already taken 2 Tylenol PM in a vain attempt to sleep off the remaining melancholy), Sunday was worse, but hopefully tomorrow will be better. Both my mom and my therapist have given me the most compromising, and subsequently, best, advice ever: Allow myself time to dwell, but only for a finite period. And once that pre-established amount of time has passed…it’s time to move on.

As difficult as this has been for me, I don’t really hold anything against any of these women. I try to make myself feel better about the situation by recognizing that everyone has a season – and my season with these 4 women must have already passed. I would welcome most of them back into my life, but I would probably always hold them at a distance, so things dissolving as they have is probably the best way for this all to have gone down. I’m saddened by the losses, but I have gained a lot in my life in the last few months as well, and I wouldn’t forgo any of it for anyone; my seasons are changing.

To everything turn, turn, turn…


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Some people call me a Space Cowboy

One of my greatest abilities, and worst characteristics, is that I often spend more than my fair share of time over-evaluating where I am with, and in, my life. Currently, I am single, I live alone with my 4 pets and I am 27 years old. Most of that kinda sucks and I find myself scheming for ways to get myself out of at least 1 of my most defining criteria. Unfortunately, a struggle ensues and I usually just end up MORE single with MORE pets and even MORE 27 than before. defines dating, among many definitions, as “a social appointment, engagement, or occasion arranged beforehand with another person: to go out on a date on Saturday night.” Sounds simple enough, so why is it so difficult to actually participate in? Going out to bars to meet men does nothing but elicit sweaty passes and beer burps, so I tend to shy away from that scene. I burp enough on my own, but at least it doesn’t smell like recycled brew. Besides, it’s mostly college kids and those experiencing the pub scene, legally, for the first time. I’ve found over the years that I prefer men my age, or older, and at least on a similar level of intellect. It’s a huge turn off when a guy looks over my shoulder and snidely states “Why are you reading?! That’s not gonna do anything for ya. A-hyuck.” I dated this guy once who would look at me like an ape whenever I used a word with more than 3 syllables; like NEANDERTHAL.

I’m not looking for an immediate commitment out of anyone right now, but I somehow feel like more of a person when I can tack phrases like “I went on a date” onto the list of things I did this weekend. It seems so futile to even go over my weekend with anyone since it’s usually the same house work, yard work, hung out with {insert friends name here} and laundry that it always is, weekend after weekend.

Part of my issue may be the fact that I am not actively looking. As much as I sit here and complain about being single, it’s really a challenge to find a compatible guy, and so as with most things, as soon as the going gets tough, I get going. Away from it. I bail, give up, punk out and bug out when I feel outmatched, and dating is definitely something that makes me feel as much. I don’t know how to approach such a situation as I’ve never really been enveloped in the dating scene – I’ve been in long term relationships since I was 17 and it’s taken me the last 2 years of being single to make me realize that I have a lot to learn when it comes to choosing the “right” kind of man.

And so here I am, in the midst of assisting with the planning of my sisters multiple wedding/bridal showers, not the mention the wedding itself, and I’m pulling my hair out over showing up to yet another major event stag. Call me selfish, hell, I’ll take that as a compliment, as that is what my therapist keeps telling me I need to be a little bit more of, but the reality is that, although I can do and be a lot independently, there is a plenty to be said for having that someone to come home and cook dinner with, to curl up and watch Battlestar Gallactica with, to lay next to at night and to wake up with their arms around you in the morning. Being single has a lot of good aspects to it, but I’ve played this game for a couple of years now, and although for most of those couple years, I was barely able to take advantage of being single since I was so codependent I didn’t know where I even began, I finally feel like I am ready to start TRYING. I don’t need a roommate or a husband, but I would like to go out on a real, genuine, bonafide date every now and again, damnit.


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