Nice. My first post in 2010. Epic. My favorite part of the New Year, you ask? My birthday, which I think I wrote about last post. My half sleeve tattoo is just right around the corner, and I couldn’t be more excited. In fact, I was offered a second job yesterday at the nicest, most upscale hotel in our area, and I start right away. I’ll find out today what my schedule is going to be and if I need to work on the 15th, I’m going to push the tattoo forward, pending availability of course. I’m really excited about the new job, so now I’ll have two part time jobs, which, technically is more then full time work. This job equals about 18-20 hours a week depending on how late the manager feels like being the mornings I need to work, and the new job with be about 25-30 hours a week. Alas, with the new responsibility come new waves of instant anxiety. I mean, how lame am I? I had two interviews total, neither of which I broke a sweat over, and then they said they would call me in a couple days to let me know if I had the job or not. During the wait, I was totally fine and happy, but the second I hung up the phone I wanted to hyperventilate into a brown paper lunch bag.
My anxiety got the better of me today, and I was admittedly a little on edge, and I became upset with the man. He made a comment about my tattooing and the location, the exact comment he made on Thanksgiving in front of his boss and his wife and her family. I was so embarrassed, but I wasn’t going to make a fuss, it’s Thanksgiving! By the time the day was done I was pretty sauced and sleepy and I slipped comfortably into a turkey enzyme (triphophen?) coma. So when he said it again today in front of a friend we haven’t seen in ages I had already had my share of laughs and immediately asked him to stop saying something that was really offensive to me and what I love to do. I ushered them out in the nicest way possible because honestly I was pissed and wanted to be alone. I still don’t know if he understands where I was coming from exactly, because he got really defensive after I sent him an email. He read it in front of me, making exclamations and comments the entire way through, so I don’t think he absorbed it. In the end, I was the one crying and apologizing, because he claims that I’m upset with him “all the time” and he “feels bad.” Before he came to that conclusion, I was “making him miserable,” so I’m still a little fuzzy on his details. Whenever something goes wrong he will, without fail, find a way to tie it to some sort of social event and him being with other people. This is honestly not the case, and I don’t see it. At least not all the time, I will give him one or two, but he loves to generalize and use “always,” “every time,” “all the time” and so on. It’s gotten to the point where I know he’s going to say that, so I just sit and wait for him to say it, and give my predetermined answer. My answers are getting good, and I don’t think he likes that. What I also don’t think he’s pleased with it’s that I’m actually standing up for myself, which I later had to translate to “I’m moody because I’m working on my medications” which is only 60 percent of the truth. That is the case, and they do make me moody, but he’s used to me being meek, falling over, and letting him be right all the time. I was unemployed for almost 7 months and he was supporting me, and I wasn’t about to get into any serious arguments with him during that time, or shake the boat. I just wanted to make things as seamless as possible until I found work. Now that I’m working and I have obtained a second job, I feel more secure, and I’m actually standing up for myself, and I don’t think he’s entirely used to it. Normally, he would say something and I would just stop talking, but now he says something and I instantly retort something that cannot be answered easily. For example, he tried saying that I sent him “a GIANT email that I forced him to read…” something something. I interrupted him by saying, “Yeah, that email, wooo, real big. It’s actually four lines in gmail but I’m sure it looks huge on your tiny phone!” He just sat there. Then I feel bad. I’m terrible at fighting, and, to quote Owl City, “I would rather pick flowers instead of fights.” I feel bad instantly, and I’m terrible at staying mad, which is why it’s confusing to me that he feels like I’m mad at him all the time. I’ve only been getting edgier with him lately, and only since my medications started getting tweaked. I don’t see why the correlation isn’t more black and white, but I guess it never is in relationships. Shit, I don’t know what to do.
I did the most considerate thing I could think of, and told him he made me really happy, and I would actively work on trying to express that, and trying to express any frustrations calmly instead of “blowing up at him.” I also said that if he was so unhappy that he couldn’t weight out the bad with the good, to where the good didn’t even register, then when he left on vacation to go home we needed to take a break where he could rethink the relationship. At first, he seemed like that was a good idea, but after I realized he was considering it to a serious degree and him saying that he had a lot to think about, it made me really sad, and I started crying. He said he was just upset, and that it wasn’t necessary, but I think the break will be good for us. A long time ago, we agreed that he and I were going to take regular breaks from each other once a week or so. I’ve planned little things for myself, and he does too, but nothing where we leave for periods of time and actually get…well a break. I’m a little disappointed at his lack of effort in this department, because he is the one that has a tendency to not speak up and then blow up at me, I realize he needs a break, then I’m the one that ends up taking it for him, but that just doesn’t seem fair. He needs to communicate his side, and I’m not going to do it for him anymore. Although I suppose I kind of did tonight. I should mention this to him so he’s in the know in the future.
Ugh, well that’s enough out of me for tonight. I needed to vent and get my ducks in a row in my head. I know nothing is permanently screwed, and I know everything will work out the way it’s supposed to, and I’m not afraid of any consequences. I’m looking forward to what this year has to offer me, and I’m welcoming challenges with open arms. Hell, if last year didn’t kill me, nothing can. PEACE!!
Friday, January 8, 2010
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Night 7
So I’m working tonight and tomorrow night. For the third year in a row I’ll be working on New Years Eve, which isn’t really that big of a deal. I don’t know if I can make it to midnight without caffeine anyways. Lately, thanks to a certain medicine I’m taking, I’m sleepy all the time, except for when I’m at work. I’ve noticed that when I’m tired at work time goes by even slower, so I think staying active is my way of preventing nights that drag ass. That’s the worst I think; being so sleepy during night audit and time goes by slower then it usually does. I like to talk too, so when I work and have no one to talk to it kills me. I feel bad for whoever comes in the next morning because I’m starved for conversation and I talk a mile a minute. I’ve also noticed that I seem to feel more creative during the wee hours of the night, but nothing too constructive. Quite the opposite actually, I feel destructive, and I creatively think of new ways to draw/graffiti on random items. I haven’t done anything yet, although I had a really great idea that involved the spiral staircase and highlighters.
So yeah, New Years, time for resolutions? No, you won’t find a list here. I’ve never made New Year resolutions, although towards the end of November this year, I told myself that this upcoming year would absolutely have to be better. I went through so much in a single year and I learned that life isn’t fair. I was with my boyfriend when his father passed away on Thanksgiving and I went through hell when I was raped 3 days later. I suffered through exams and interview after interview only to try to overdose on my prescribed Klonopin to end the cycle I knew was getting me no where. I dropped charges on a rapist so I could move forward. I felt what it’s like to carry a child, and I felt what it’s like to loose that in a matter of minutes. I’ve carried my mother through trial after trial of her husband’s alcoholism, and I stood up to him several times which has lead to us not talking anymore. I lost my relationships with Flesh Dad (biological father) and Stand-In Dad (stepfather). My boyfriend broke up with me, which lead to me frantically trying to slash my wrist with a wine opener. He took me back after months of solid therapy and promises as well as instant changes on my part. Lastly, I recently ended a streak of unemployment that could not be broken. All in a year, I should be dead or crazy but I’m surprisingly okay and sane.
This New Year is already looking up. I was recently offered a second job at a resort in the area that I’ll be starting the second week of January. I’ll be able to keep this night audit position at the same time, which will be good. I have plans to really make some headway on my tattooing, and I have arranged to drive a couple hours a week to learn from the guy that originally mentored me. My boyfriend and I are getting along well, and communicating better everyday. Things are looking up and I’m thankful for that. My birthday is coming up as well. I would like to go to LA but I think I pissed off one of my friends that lives there and I won’t be able to go until he emails me back. I would feel weird heading down there not knowing if he’s okay with me or not. I have plans to get tattooed for my birthday so maybe that will be all I’ll do this year. I usually love birthdays and I try to do fun stuff for it, but this year it seems that when I plan things something happens, someone forgets, or I screw up and it doesn’t seem to be working out. Maybe I should just let it go and see what happens…
So yeah, New Years, time for resolutions? No, you won’t find a list here. I’ve never made New Year resolutions, although towards the end of November this year, I told myself that this upcoming year would absolutely have to be better. I went through so much in a single year and I learned that life isn’t fair. I was with my boyfriend when his father passed away on Thanksgiving and I went through hell when I was raped 3 days later. I suffered through exams and interview after interview only to try to overdose on my prescribed Klonopin to end the cycle I knew was getting me no where. I dropped charges on a rapist so I could move forward. I felt what it’s like to carry a child, and I felt what it’s like to loose that in a matter of minutes. I’ve carried my mother through trial after trial of her husband’s alcoholism, and I stood up to him several times which has lead to us not talking anymore. I lost my relationships with Flesh Dad (biological father) and Stand-In Dad (stepfather). My boyfriend broke up with me, which lead to me frantically trying to slash my wrist with a wine opener. He took me back after months of solid therapy and promises as well as instant changes on my part. Lastly, I recently ended a streak of unemployment that could not be broken. All in a year, I should be dead or crazy but I’m surprisingly okay and sane.
This New Year is already looking up. I was recently offered a second job at a resort in the area that I’ll be starting the second week of January. I’ll be able to keep this night audit position at the same time, which will be good. I have plans to really make some headway on my tattooing, and I have arranged to drive a couple hours a week to learn from the guy that originally mentored me. My boyfriend and I are getting along well, and communicating better everyday. Things are looking up and I’m thankful for that. My birthday is coming up as well. I would like to go to LA but I think I pissed off one of my friends that lives there and I won’t be able to go until he emails me back. I would feel weird heading down there not knowing if he’s okay with me or not. I have plans to get tattooed for my birthday so maybe that will be all I’ll do this year. I usually love birthdays and I try to do fun stuff for it, but this year it seems that when I plan things something happens, someone forgets, or I screw up and it doesn’t seem to be working out. Maybe I should just let it go and see what happens…
Monday, December 28, 2009
Night 6
Another night at work, although tonight wasn’t a typical scheduled evening. I was asked by a co-worker if I could cover her shift tonight. I said I would have just returned from Los Angeles and been too tired to do so, but she took it off and I got thrown on the schedule regardless of how tired I am. It’s actually not so bad; I got a really awesome nap in before I came in.
So the man and I got home around 6:30pm from LA tonight. We went there to spend some Xmas time with a couple friends. Unfortunately, the visit left a sour taste in my mouth due to one of my friends being a dick. I’m really not sure why, or what happened that made things seem so piss poor, but I spent the weekend feeling extremely left out and like a third wheel at any given time. The friend I would have preferred to spend more time with had some changes in plans, and she couldn’t be around as much as I would have enjoyed, but it was great to see her regardless. In her absence though, I was really left out and set aside.
The “friend” that was being a dick I’ve known since high school, about 10 years now. I had asked him previously during the weekend if we could have some one on one time together to hang out and talk, to which he replied “for sure,” so I did have a certain level of expectation. I was so disappointed with him. I ended up getting about 15 to 20 minutes of time with him while walking to go pick up a fast food snack. He ended up not talking the majority of the time, and stopped addressing me for the remainder of the weekend. In so many words, he made it clear that he prioritized my boyfriend over me when it came to spending time with each other. He stated, “If I saw you him more often I would be able to hang out with you more and I wouldn’t be so starved to talk to him so much.” At first, I accepted the rational, but after thinking on it I realized how fucked up that was for him to say. I didn’t know I was consciously being put on the back burner, and would be addressed only when he had a satisfactory level of time with my boyfriend. I really don’t know…I don’t have anything else really positive to say about that. I let my boyfriend know what happened on the way home, because I couldn’t hold tears in anymore. He was bummed out that I hadn’t conveyed to him what was happening sooner, but I said I didn’t want to ruin his time. He said, “Well my time has been ruined now that I know you weren’t enjoying yourself.” I do feel poorly about that.
On a happier note, I got myself an interview with a nice local resort. I’m sure they pay well and I would have an opportunity to work normal hours instead of this night audit stuff. I’m in no way, shape, or form complaining about my job. It’s so easy and I get to do stuff such as this blog, but it does kill my sleep and I’m so tired all the time. I’m actually hoping I can obtain a part time position with them, and keep both jobs.
That’s enough out of me for now. I’m so tired at the moment it’s hard for me to think clearly. I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday weekend.
So the man and I got home around 6:30pm from LA tonight. We went there to spend some Xmas time with a couple friends. Unfortunately, the visit left a sour taste in my mouth due to one of my friends being a dick. I’m really not sure why, or what happened that made things seem so piss poor, but I spent the weekend feeling extremely left out and like a third wheel at any given time. The friend I would have preferred to spend more time with had some changes in plans, and she couldn’t be around as much as I would have enjoyed, but it was great to see her regardless. In her absence though, I was really left out and set aside.
The “friend” that was being a dick I’ve known since high school, about 10 years now. I had asked him previously during the weekend if we could have some one on one time together to hang out and talk, to which he replied “for sure,” so I did have a certain level of expectation. I was so disappointed with him. I ended up getting about 15 to 20 minutes of time with him while walking to go pick up a fast food snack. He ended up not talking the majority of the time, and stopped addressing me for the remainder of the weekend. In so many words, he made it clear that he prioritized my boyfriend over me when it came to spending time with each other. He stated, “If I saw you him more often I would be able to hang out with you more and I wouldn’t be so starved to talk to him so much.” At first, I accepted the rational, but after thinking on it I realized how fucked up that was for him to say. I didn’t know I was consciously being put on the back burner, and would be addressed only when he had a satisfactory level of time with my boyfriend. I really don’t know…I don’t have anything else really positive to say about that. I let my boyfriend know what happened on the way home, because I couldn’t hold tears in anymore. He was bummed out that I hadn’t conveyed to him what was happening sooner, but I said I didn’t want to ruin his time. He said, “Well my time has been ruined now that I know you weren’t enjoying yourself.” I do feel poorly about that.
On a happier note, I got myself an interview with a nice local resort. I’m sure they pay well and I would have an opportunity to work normal hours instead of this night audit stuff. I’m in no way, shape, or form complaining about my job. It’s so easy and I get to do stuff such as this blog, but it does kill my sleep and I’m so tired all the time. I’m actually hoping I can obtain a part time position with them, and keep both jobs.
That’s enough out of me for now. I’m so tired at the moment it’s hard for me to think clearly. I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday weekend.
Friday, December 25, 2009
Night 5
I should slap myself on the wrist; I didn’t blog last night at work. I thought about doing it, but I’m also in the middle of making a blanket and I was in the zone. You would think I would have tons to talk about, especially with the holiday season. Let us see if I do or not.
So my boyfriend and I opened Christmas (which I will call Xmas from now on) presents a few days early. I didn’t see the point in making him wait for his gifts, and we’re leaving tomorrow to visit our best friends in Los Angeles. I will be getting home tomorrow around 7:15am so opening them just to leave seemed silly. We’re both atheists anyways, so around this time of year we just exchange gifts, eat, drink, and be merry. Who says atheists don’t celebrate. Atheists are like Mexican families in that both will take any small achievement or day (Xmas or, say, a 1 year olds birthday) as an opportunity to get drunk. I come from a strong Hispanic background so my information is first hand…I don’t want anyone thinking I’m racist. I respect all cultures, although I am known to call the neighbors “dirty fucking Mexicans” when they wake me up at 10:30am after a night of work with their retarded “music.”
So I already made out on Xmas and it’s just now the right day to open gifts. The man got me two awesome presents; an LCD light scanner that is super fast and awesome, as well as a Wacom Bamboo tablet. I’ve been talking about wanting a tablet for years and he’s good at picking up on my gift hints. I’m not sure exactly how much it cost, although I’m sure he got a good deal. I’ve been tempted to look it up to see how much he spent, but I decided that wouldn’t be fair and I’ll just keep on thinking it was too expensive. My grandparents sent me the usual amount of dough that they’ve been giving us since I discovered money equals toys. Even my part time job treated me well and gave me a complimentary nights stay at a local bed and breakfast in an executive king suite. That will be a lot of fun. Staying at new and posh hotels is a passion of mine, and I like talking about how much better my service would have been, had I provided the check in. I also got paid, so woohoo, go Xmas!
I know tonight is going to drag ass until the sun rises because I have something to do after work. I’m actually just going to do my usual and just pass out when I get home, although today I will pass out in the car on my way to LA, but that’s exciting in itself. I can’t wait. I hope anyone who reads this is having a wonderful holiday themselves. <3
So my boyfriend and I opened Christmas (which I will call Xmas from now on) presents a few days early. I didn’t see the point in making him wait for his gifts, and we’re leaving tomorrow to visit our best friends in Los Angeles. I will be getting home tomorrow around 7:15am so opening them just to leave seemed silly. We’re both atheists anyways, so around this time of year we just exchange gifts, eat, drink, and be merry. Who says atheists don’t celebrate. Atheists are like Mexican families in that both will take any small achievement or day (Xmas or, say, a 1 year olds birthday) as an opportunity to get drunk. I come from a strong Hispanic background so my information is first hand…I don’t want anyone thinking I’m racist. I respect all cultures, although I am known to call the neighbors “dirty fucking Mexicans” when they wake me up at 10:30am after a night of work with their retarded “music.”
So I already made out on Xmas and it’s just now the right day to open gifts. The man got me two awesome presents; an LCD light scanner that is super fast and awesome, as well as a Wacom Bamboo tablet. I’ve been talking about wanting a tablet for years and he’s good at picking up on my gift hints. I’m not sure exactly how much it cost, although I’m sure he got a good deal. I’ve been tempted to look it up to see how much he spent, but I decided that wouldn’t be fair and I’ll just keep on thinking it was too expensive. My grandparents sent me the usual amount of dough that they’ve been giving us since I discovered money equals toys. Even my part time job treated me well and gave me a complimentary nights stay at a local bed and breakfast in an executive king suite. That will be a lot of fun. Staying at new and posh hotels is a passion of mine, and I like talking about how much better my service would have been, had I provided the check in. I also got paid, so woohoo, go Xmas!
I know tonight is going to drag ass until the sun rises because I have something to do after work. I’m actually just going to do my usual and just pass out when I get home, although today I will pass out in the car on my way to LA, but that’s exciting in itself. I can’t wait. I hope anyone who reads this is having a wonderful holiday themselves. <3
Friday, December 18, 2009
Night 4
Typically, when I write these blogs at work, I finish them relatively early. This evening was an exception and I’m not sure why. I feel lazy tonight. I really want to be at home in my comfy comfy bed with my man and my cat. Usually, I don’t feel that way, and I don’t mind being here, but I had a really awesome nap earlier and I really didn’t want to open my eyes.
Pandora radio has been getting me through work, but I’ve realized that after you listen to any single station for more then 3 hours the songs start to repeat themselves and you get the bottom of the music genre barrel in between stuff you’ve already heard.
Tonight my mind keeps wandering back to the same phrase of doing the bare minimum. That’s what this hotel is. It is eight people somehow doing the bare minimum and the place holds up pretty well. The housekeepers clean, and the front desk people do their check ins and outs. I sit on my ass after printing and analyzing some easy reports and despite the corporate training bullshit this place is making money. It makes me think that just doing the bare minimum to keep things running is acceptable and maybe even profitable. I would prefer to think that this isn’t the case.
I just finished folding a bunch of laundry that the housekeepers couldn’t get around to today during their shift. I was told by the general manager that I could “fold stuff if I got bored.” I wasn’t really bored I just thought I would help out. As I was folding towels into threes and then into halves it dawned on me that no one else here does this. Why am I folding stuff when I won’t get recognized or appreciated for it? I’m not getting paid to fold laundry or even to help out; I was told I’m getting paid to sit here just in case the place spontaneously combusts. In all actuality, I think I’m mostly here in case the fire alarm sets off, which seemed to require a lot of training on how to press five buttons sequentially to turn it off. Oh well, I got paid to learn how to press five buttons. I’m such a winner.
I’m really looking forward to Xmas this year. My boyfriend pointed out that I had to work both Xmas eve and New Year’s Eve. Not a big deal to me besides the fact that I’ll feel slightly left out when I know my man is out drinking, and I’m going to be here watching drunks. My boyfriend apologized for his comments the other day, in case you were wondering. When we first got together he said he hated talking through emails or chats because you can’t ever be quite sure what tone they are using. Now that I have issues with the tone of voice he directs towards me he writes me email apologies. I wonder if there’s a correlation or if it’s just a coincidence?
The other day I had an interesting run in with an old friend. I guess you can’t call it a run in since it was on Facebook, but nonetheless I hadn’t talked to her in a long time. I actually didn’t talk to her at first as much as I talked to her girlfriend who was raging at me because I called her woman hot. I understand her being slightly jealous, I mean, I am legendary, however her piss poor attitude and the fact that she was a total stranger did put me in a funk. I think it almost pissed me off when I found out that she was, in fact, my friend’s girlfriend. I know she’s a big girl and can make her own relationship choices, but I was still disappointed. I just want to make sure she’s happy, but the distance and the lack of contact put things immediately in perspective. I can’t do anything for her but listen to her talk about her crazy girlfriend and “dyke drama.” I don’t have any room in my life for that kind of noise, and I don’t know where people get the energy to be with people that they have to fight with over common courtesy skills they should have developed in middle school. I feel so old…I know I’m not, and people older then me would smack me in the head if they heard me say that out loud. Lucky for me I look and sound like I’m 17 years old, but this body has been through so much the past year. I’m so tired and over the dramatic aspect of life.
When I was in second grade I had a teacher that introduced us to these “choose your own adventure” books. The scene would be set for some bad shit to go down and you had multiple options with corresponding page numbers to continue reading about what happens to you. Right away I realized that the middle of the stories were all filler and boring, so I would skip to the end pages to read what the choices were and back-step my way to the beginning or until I lost interest.
I was catching up with my friend when I thought about those adventure books, and how my life is just like one of those. I didn’t really want to tell her all the filler, because the filler was depressing, boring, and to me uninteresting. I’ve had an extremely eventful year but regardless going through the trouble of rehashing it all lost my interest. I just wanted to say, “I’m fine, things are good,” and end with that. If it had been anyone else besides her I would have said that, but I care about her enough to let her know what’s going on in my life. When I talk about what’s happened to me this past year I wish there was a ‘skip to the end’ button. I think everyone would be much more relieved and happy, especially me.
While the teacher sat us in a big circle and read the stories he would let the class vote on what we did in the book. I always had read the book ahead of time, so I only raise my hand for the choices I knew ended in death. I wanted to skip to the end so I could go play with crayons instead.
Crayons are way better then choosing your own adventure. Telling children they could choose their own way in life seems like a lie to me now, and I think I knew that early on. Come on kids! Let’s go mess around with the deadly rattlesnake.
Pandora radio has been getting me through work, but I’ve realized that after you listen to any single station for more then 3 hours the songs start to repeat themselves and you get the bottom of the music genre barrel in between stuff you’ve already heard.
Tonight my mind keeps wandering back to the same phrase of doing the bare minimum. That’s what this hotel is. It is eight people somehow doing the bare minimum and the place holds up pretty well. The housekeepers clean, and the front desk people do their check ins and outs. I sit on my ass after printing and analyzing some easy reports and despite the corporate training bullshit this place is making money. It makes me think that just doing the bare minimum to keep things running is acceptable and maybe even profitable. I would prefer to think that this isn’t the case.
I just finished folding a bunch of laundry that the housekeepers couldn’t get around to today during their shift. I was told by the general manager that I could “fold stuff if I got bored.” I wasn’t really bored I just thought I would help out. As I was folding towels into threes and then into halves it dawned on me that no one else here does this. Why am I folding stuff when I won’t get recognized or appreciated for it? I’m not getting paid to fold laundry or even to help out; I was told I’m getting paid to sit here just in case the place spontaneously combusts. In all actuality, I think I’m mostly here in case the fire alarm sets off, which seemed to require a lot of training on how to press five buttons sequentially to turn it off. Oh well, I got paid to learn how to press five buttons. I’m such a winner.
I’m really looking forward to Xmas this year. My boyfriend pointed out that I had to work both Xmas eve and New Year’s Eve. Not a big deal to me besides the fact that I’ll feel slightly left out when I know my man is out drinking, and I’m going to be here watching drunks. My boyfriend apologized for his comments the other day, in case you were wondering. When we first got together he said he hated talking through emails or chats because you can’t ever be quite sure what tone they are using. Now that I have issues with the tone of voice he directs towards me he writes me email apologies. I wonder if there’s a correlation or if it’s just a coincidence?
The other day I had an interesting run in with an old friend. I guess you can’t call it a run in since it was on Facebook, but nonetheless I hadn’t talked to her in a long time. I actually didn’t talk to her at first as much as I talked to her girlfriend who was raging at me because I called her woman hot. I understand her being slightly jealous, I mean, I am legendary, however her piss poor attitude and the fact that she was a total stranger did put me in a funk. I think it almost pissed me off when I found out that she was, in fact, my friend’s girlfriend. I know she’s a big girl and can make her own relationship choices, but I was still disappointed. I just want to make sure she’s happy, but the distance and the lack of contact put things immediately in perspective. I can’t do anything for her but listen to her talk about her crazy girlfriend and “dyke drama.” I don’t have any room in my life for that kind of noise, and I don’t know where people get the energy to be with people that they have to fight with over common courtesy skills they should have developed in middle school. I feel so old…I know I’m not, and people older then me would smack me in the head if they heard me say that out loud. Lucky for me I look and sound like I’m 17 years old, but this body has been through so much the past year. I’m so tired and over the dramatic aspect of life.
When I was in second grade I had a teacher that introduced us to these “choose your own adventure” books. The scene would be set for some bad shit to go down and you had multiple options with corresponding page numbers to continue reading about what happens to you. Right away I realized that the middle of the stories were all filler and boring, so I would skip to the end pages to read what the choices were and back-step my way to the beginning or until I lost interest.
I was catching up with my friend when I thought about those adventure books, and how my life is just like one of those. I didn’t really want to tell her all the filler, because the filler was depressing, boring, and to me uninteresting. I’ve had an extremely eventful year but regardless going through the trouble of rehashing it all lost my interest. I just wanted to say, “I’m fine, things are good,” and end with that. If it had been anyone else besides her I would have said that, but I care about her enough to let her know what’s going on in my life. When I talk about what’s happened to me this past year I wish there was a ‘skip to the end’ button. I think everyone would be much more relieved and happy, especially me.
While the teacher sat us in a big circle and read the stories he would let the class vote on what we did in the book. I always had read the book ahead of time, so I only raise my hand for the choices I knew ended in death. I wanted to skip to the end so I could go play with crayons instead.
Crayons are way better then choosing your own adventure. Telling children they could choose their own way in life seems like a lie to me now, and I think I knew that early on. Come on kids! Let’s go mess around with the deadly rattlesnake.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Night 3
Another evening and another night at work; I feel as if this job is spoiling me from any future position where I would have to do actual work. I went down for a nap today earlier then usual, around 630pm opposed to 730-8pm. I slept until I was supposed to for the first time since working the graveyard. Why do they call them graveyard shifts? Is that because the only people that worked these hours way back when were grave diggers? Can you imagine a job like that? I can, which is morbid and almost cool at the same time, but I know I would get the willies every minute I worked which would be the end of me. There’s a Halloween episode of the Simpson’s where Bart is looking for a job for Homer in the local paper. He says, “Here’s one dad. Flexible schedule, you get to meet lots of new people, and good pay!” He refers to a grave digger position which Homer fails at because he is too rotund to dig a six foot hole in the ground.
Alright children it’s time for ‘Can you spot the difference?’ Here we go:
Example One: “Are you doing that again?” compared to “I noticed you were doing that again, may I ask why?”
Example Two: “What’s wrong with you?” compared to “You seem a little upset, are you okay?”
I could drive this point home if I really wanted to but I don’t. I’m tired of the “poor tone” conversation where I end up feeling like a crazy bitch. I know there is a huge difference in tone and have been taught this my entire life, even at my places of employment. Sometimes, it’s not about what you say it’s how you say it. Although, with the above examples, which are actual quotes, it was what he said and how he meant it. Wow, just put that together while I was writing that.
My boyfriend talks to me like child with a judgmental father. I don’t get along with my flesh father. I used to have a “Dad” (stepfather) but he decided to jump on the drunken wagon again and lied to me too many times. Flesh Dad didn’t do much for us growing up. I’m trying to think of what he did do to balance out the negative…he watched cartoons with us. He let me borrow his pipe once when I started smoking weed with no questions asked. I guess he couldn’t say anything because he was high at the time more then I ever was.
I know that’s why he seemed happy. It didn’t have anything to do with his house, or him keeping some custody of his kids, or his multiple re-marriages. It was drugs. Drugs made Flesh Dad happy. Weed makes me happy all the time. “Weed is by my side and has always been there.” It’s easy to get confused though and I occasionally blame the marijuana for my being uncomfortable, however I understand now that it is weed in combination with outside forces that make me unhappy. If I had a lifetime supply of tattoo equipment, drawing stuff, munchies, and weed I would die a happy woman. I wouldn’t even ask for a toilet, I would just get high and shit in the same corner of the room.
I will happily admit I was a stoner all of but three weeks ago. I decided I needed to quit when I put two and two together that a medication plus marijuana was making my muscles twitch. It was really uncomfortable and I did say, “It’s a sad day but I think my stoner days are over.” They are over. I can’t sit around and get high and play World of Warcraft hours on end until I just can’t hold my pee anymore. To quote Daniel Tosh, “No I don’t smoke weed! I’m not 17 anymore and I got shit to do. Go do some cocaine like an adult.”
I haven’t subjected myself to any serious drugs. I did try ecstasy once and it was bunk. I tried Cylocybin (mushrooms) once and I had symptoms of the stomach flu for the next 24 hours with no trip. Flesh Dad used to say to try everything once, so you can say you did, but after learning from other people’s mistakes I think that was poor advice. You should make decisions on what you’re willing to do and what you’re not as opposed to jumping into something retarded because you haven’t yet. Although, I do wish my younger years were more experimental. I did what everyone wanted me to, what everyone expected me to do. I was never the one that you could ever imagine getting in trouble, because I didn’t. I don’t know if that’s good or bad because being an adult I can find all the trouble I want in mass quantities and streamlined for efficiency. I’m getting off track…
So I stopped smoking a few weeks ago and I haven’t purchased anything. I know that if I have it around I will smoke it, so just not keeping it handy will stop me. Times are tough for everyone, and the extra couple hundred I month I was smoking away is coming in quite handy. I’m really proud of myself actually; I’m expecting a good sum of money today, and it didn’t cross my mind to set two hundred dollars aside to budget for douje. I wish that my boyfriend would notice these small changes as positive and not dwell on the negative. The negative example would be me having a hit tonight before I laid down to rest, which I did. I did last night too, a very small hit since my tolerance has depleted. I tried to explain I wasn’t smoking a lot, but he said quantifying it didn’t make a difference. I reserved myself and continued saying ‘one hit’ but I don’t think it swayed him.
When I stopped smoking because of the side effect I said I wasn’t going to be smoking anymore. Apparently, I have to be super specific and say when, where, and why I will ever smoke again in the future. I’m sure I’m exaggerating how much communication was hoped for in that area but I was hit with a brick wall of negativity when I had one hit Tuesday night. “So you’re smoking again now?” he asked me bluntly. I said “No, I’m just taking a hit. It was left in the bowl.” This was another unsatisfactory reply because tonight I smoked before I took a nap and he had such a demeaning air about him. I started to explain myself saying that it was an indica and would help me sleep. He ignored me, although later saying he was just not paying attention because he was playing his game.
Again, it is what he said and how he said it. I approached him tonight before I left for work saying that I feel like I have to tiptoe around what I say because he’ll come back and try to point out my mistakes. Apparently, this one was my fault because I failed to communicate how often I would continue to smoke. I said it didn’t matter, and I shouldn’t have to feel bad about my actions. I still do, but I know I shouldn’t and it’s put me in a sour mood this evening. I called when I got to work and said, “I wanted to apologize for bringing that up on you before I left because I know how stressed out you are right now. So, I’m sorry.” He said he didn’t want me to bottle things up and then there was silence…awkward silence. I said, “I’m sorry” again, but only got some more silence followed with an “okay.” I can’t win, although maybe I’m expecting just a little bit too much. I don’t even know what I want him to say I just know what I don’t want to hear.
I’m an adult and I can do what I wish. Me staying in parameters of acceptable behavior constitutes my individual actions and makes up who I am as a whole. I thought he loved me for who I was, so there is a contradiction here that has been present for awhile in our communication and relationship. He fell in love with me when I was working at a dispensary, so it makes me wonder if he’s just not okay with it anymore or he thought he could change me. I guess he has changed me, in fact, I know he has. I’m happy about most of the changes but I wish he would be more open minded about things I want to try for the first time, instead of lecturing me about how bad wikipedia.com says it is for me.
I called him out on his smoking cigarettes, saying that he said he quit, but once we had a fight he was out buying a pack and he would smoke the entire pack so he wouldn’t be “wasting it.” I said, “I knew this would come up someday…” which he jumped all over. I shouldn’t have hinted in any way towards my prediction of him calling the kettle black, but I was nice enough not to say I told you so, and I let him carry on smoking and never commented on it until today. It’s just unfair and hypocritical, so I won’t let it go without a fight on my way down.
The sad part is that he’ll probably never understand, or he won’t act like he does. He hates being wrong and hates admitting it more. Due to that, I’m the one that raises the white relationship flag in defeat, letting my point sit on the bench and rest until the “tone” issue raises its ugly head again. Poor little issue is getting tired of arguing the same point and I am concerned that our failure to deal with communication problems will get the best of me, him, and us. I guess things are rather predictable though. We rarely fight over new issues anymore. We’ve been together long enough that all that’s out of the way.
I have the same two issues with him; his word choice/tone for asking me questions indicating that he’s unhappy with me somehow and his lack of appreciation and acknowledgement of my efforts. It usually pertains to dishes though, which is silly, but it has branched out to him not admiring my artwork at all, and just giving me the obligatory, “that’s nice” comment. Haha, it is funny, he said he got so used to my art being amazing he didn’t know what to say anymore. It’s just like, “Durrr say something about it!” I don’t know if it’s a compliment or not. I suppose my drawing/tattooing is one in the same to him as me doing the dishes, because rarely do either get any positive attention. I really hate doing the dishes.
I will give him a huge gold star though. When I completed my first tattoo, he snuck out and brought home champagne and raspberries saying we needed to celebrate. I really enjoy champagne and he picked one I’m partial to. It’s the small things I suppose, but is there a form somewhere where I can get a grant to receive more small things? That would be awesome.
Alright children it’s time for ‘Can you spot the difference?’ Here we go:
Example One: “Are you doing that again?” compared to “I noticed you were doing that again, may I ask why?”
Example Two: “What’s wrong with you?” compared to “You seem a little upset, are you okay?”
I could drive this point home if I really wanted to but I don’t. I’m tired of the “poor tone” conversation where I end up feeling like a crazy bitch. I know there is a huge difference in tone and have been taught this my entire life, even at my places of employment. Sometimes, it’s not about what you say it’s how you say it. Although, with the above examples, which are actual quotes, it was what he said and how he meant it. Wow, just put that together while I was writing that.
My boyfriend talks to me like child with a judgmental father. I don’t get along with my flesh father. I used to have a “Dad” (stepfather) but he decided to jump on the drunken wagon again and lied to me too many times. Flesh Dad didn’t do much for us growing up. I’m trying to think of what he did do to balance out the negative…he watched cartoons with us. He let me borrow his pipe once when I started smoking weed with no questions asked. I guess he couldn’t say anything because he was high at the time more then I ever was.
I know that’s why he seemed happy. It didn’t have anything to do with his house, or him keeping some custody of his kids, or his multiple re-marriages. It was drugs. Drugs made Flesh Dad happy. Weed makes me happy all the time. “Weed is by my side and has always been there.” It’s easy to get confused though and I occasionally blame the marijuana for my being uncomfortable, however I understand now that it is weed in combination with outside forces that make me unhappy. If I had a lifetime supply of tattoo equipment, drawing stuff, munchies, and weed I would die a happy woman. I wouldn’t even ask for a toilet, I would just get high and shit in the same corner of the room.
I will happily admit I was a stoner all of but three weeks ago. I decided I needed to quit when I put two and two together that a medication plus marijuana was making my muscles twitch. It was really uncomfortable and I did say, “It’s a sad day but I think my stoner days are over.” They are over. I can’t sit around and get high and play World of Warcraft hours on end until I just can’t hold my pee anymore. To quote Daniel Tosh, “No I don’t smoke weed! I’m not 17 anymore and I got shit to do. Go do some cocaine like an adult.”
I haven’t subjected myself to any serious drugs. I did try ecstasy once and it was bunk. I tried Cylocybin (mushrooms) once and I had symptoms of the stomach flu for the next 24 hours with no trip. Flesh Dad used to say to try everything once, so you can say you did, but after learning from other people’s mistakes I think that was poor advice. You should make decisions on what you’re willing to do and what you’re not as opposed to jumping into something retarded because you haven’t yet. Although, I do wish my younger years were more experimental. I did what everyone wanted me to, what everyone expected me to do. I was never the one that you could ever imagine getting in trouble, because I didn’t. I don’t know if that’s good or bad because being an adult I can find all the trouble I want in mass quantities and streamlined for efficiency. I’m getting off track…
So I stopped smoking a few weeks ago and I haven’t purchased anything. I know that if I have it around I will smoke it, so just not keeping it handy will stop me. Times are tough for everyone, and the extra couple hundred I month I was smoking away is coming in quite handy. I’m really proud of myself actually; I’m expecting a good sum of money today, and it didn’t cross my mind to set two hundred dollars aside to budget for douje. I wish that my boyfriend would notice these small changes as positive and not dwell on the negative. The negative example would be me having a hit tonight before I laid down to rest, which I did. I did last night too, a very small hit since my tolerance has depleted. I tried to explain I wasn’t smoking a lot, but he said quantifying it didn’t make a difference. I reserved myself and continued saying ‘one hit’ but I don’t think it swayed him.
When I stopped smoking because of the side effect I said I wasn’t going to be smoking anymore. Apparently, I have to be super specific and say when, where, and why I will ever smoke again in the future. I’m sure I’m exaggerating how much communication was hoped for in that area but I was hit with a brick wall of negativity when I had one hit Tuesday night. “So you’re smoking again now?” he asked me bluntly. I said “No, I’m just taking a hit. It was left in the bowl.” This was another unsatisfactory reply because tonight I smoked before I took a nap and he had such a demeaning air about him. I started to explain myself saying that it was an indica and would help me sleep. He ignored me, although later saying he was just not paying attention because he was playing his game.
Again, it is what he said and how he said it. I approached him tonight before I left for work saying that I feel like I have to tiptoe around what I say because he’ll come back and try to point out my mistakes. Apparently, this one was my fault because I failed to communicate how often I would continue to smoke. I said it didn’t matter, and I shouldn’t have to feel bad about my actions. I still do, but I know I shouldn’t and it’s put me in a sour mood this evening. I called when I got to work and said, “I wanted to apologize for bringing that up on you before I left because I know how stressed out you are right now. So, I’m sorry.” He said he didn’t want me to bottle things up and then there was silence…awkward silence. I said, “I’m sorry” again, but only got some more silence followed with an “okay.” I can’t win, although maybe I’m expecting just a little bit too much. I don’t even know what I want him to say I just know what I don’t want to hear.
I’m an adult and I can do what I wish. Me staying in parameters of acceptable behavior constitutes my individual actions and makes up who I am as a whole. I thought he loved me for who I was, so there is a contradiction here that has been present for awhile in our communication and relationship. He fell in love with me when I was working at a dispensary, so it makes me wonder if he’s just not okay with it anymore or he thought he could change me. I guess he has changed me, in fact, I know he has. I’m happy about most of the changes but I wish he would be more open minded about things I want to try for the first time, instead of lecturing me about how bad wikipedia.com says it is for me.
I called him out on his smoking cigarettes, saying that he said he quit, but once we had a fight he was out buying a pack and he would smoke the entire pack so he wouldn’t be “wasting it.” I said, “I knew this would come up someday…” which he jumped all over. I shouldn’t have hinted in any way towards my prediction of him calling the kettle black, but I was nice enough not to say I told you so, and I let him carry on smoking and never commented on it until today. It’s just unfair and hypocritical, so I won’t let it go without a fight on my way down.
The sad part is that he’ll probably never understand, or he won’t act like he does. He hates being wrong and hates admitting it more. Due to that, I’m the one that raises the white relationship flag in defeat, letting my point sit on the bench and rest until the “tone” issue raises its ugly head again. Poor little issue is getting tired of arguing the same point and I am concerned that our failure to deal with communication problems will get the best of me, him, and us. I guess things are rather predictable though. We rarely fight over new issues anymore. We’ve been together long enough that all that’s out of the way.
I have the same two issues with him; his word choice/tone for asking me questions indicating that he’s unhappy with me somehow and his lack of appreciation and acknowledgement of my efforts. It usually pertains to dishes though, which is silly, but it has branched out to him not admiring my artwork at all, and just giving me the obligatory, “that’s nice” comment. Haha, it is funny, he said he got so used to my art being amazing he didn’t know what to say anymore. It’s just like, “Durrr say something about it!” I don’t know if it’s a compliment or not. I suppose my drawing/tattooing is one in the same to him as me doing the dishes, because rarely do either get any positive attention. I really hate doing the dishes.
I will give him a huge gold star though. When I completed my first tattoo, he snuck out and brought home champagne and raspberries saying we needed to celebrate. I really enjoy champagne and he picked one I’m partial to. It’s the small things I suppose, but is there a form somewhere where I can get a grant to receive more small things? That would be awesome.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Charlie Brown Christmas
I'm working a day/evening shift at work tonight. It's interesting to say the least. When first put in a situation where I have to deal with the general public directly, I withdraw, and become unsure of myself. After two minutes of public anxiety related issues I begin to hate everyone around me. This will continue for awhile, until I am forced to handle everyone solo. Like magic, this new person comes out of me. I'm confident, sweet, outgoing, social, and I like to talk. Who is this person? I know it's me, but it feels like me from long ago, before life and I started hockey punching each other. I begin to enjoy my mood. Not necessarily because I enjoy being that way, I enjoy seeing the way others react to me being that way. The lighten up. They have smiles on their faces. They say please and thank you OH HOW I MISS PEOPLE SAYING PLEASE AND THANK YOU! Working at a hotel front desk, you really can change people's mood. I guess that's why I'm so good at it. I'm good at pretending everything is fucking fantastic.
Regardless though, things really are fucking fantastic. I completed my first tattoo from start (drawing the design, making the stencil) to finish (highlights, cleanup, bandaging it up). Everyone that sees it can't believe it's my first. They say it looks professionally done, which is a huge compliment but it's all going to my head lately. In the past that would have been a bad thing, but lately I'm really fueled by the encouragement. I completed the tattoo in about an hour, maybe 90 minutes. Today I added a few touch ups I thought could use some attention, and added a purple glow around her to make it stand out. It's Hello Kitty posing as the Maneki Neko Lucky Cat you see in most Chinese places. I've been a Hello Kitty fan since I was teeny tiny, in fact, I have a picture of myself when I was two or so, in a hello kitty jumpsuit. I may have been a Japanese teenage girl in a past life, but fuck it, I love the hello kitty cuteness. It really is a soft spot for me, and it makes me feel good to have it on me now. I really feel this is a new stage of my life. My life as a tattoo artist, and having the life I've been working to obtain. I'm leaving my childish things behind, but I wanted to hold onto one.
Other then that, playing the World of Warcraft. I just transferred my character to a new server and times are fun. The new guild is a huge raiding guild but they all seem nice and dorky. My favorite old time friend is on that server, so I really hope I can help support him WoW healing style.
So, about the title of this blog; I hate Christmas music. I'm really not that big of a Xmas peron in general. Part of that being that I'm a semi-aggresive atheist and all this Jesus stuff makes me want to barf. The other part is that I havne't ever really had a good Christmas since I was 7 maybe 8. That was before my parents split up. I remember my wicked stepmother trying to get a tree and do up the holiday family style. She did try, I will give her that, however her rages and her abuse didn't fit the season quite right. Things always seemed out of place after my parents weren't together. I guess I never really thought about that, or wanted to admit it. I'm not one of those people that thinks mom and dad need to be together for the family to be happy, it just never was. Christmas was the first holiday my dad forgot to call me three years ago. I haven't heard from him since, and he always forgets everyday that could possibly be important to me. Not even my birthday. I had a birthday issue recently, and I think I know why my birthday is a big deal to me. It's not that I want it to be all about me, oh no. It my Christmas replacement. It's close to Xmas, I get gifts, and people seem way happier on that day. A Charlie Brown Christmas is playing on the radio at the hotel. Quick, get me a dilapadated tiny tree and a yack bag.
That's enough out of me tonight. I'll be back tomorrow.
Regardless though, things really are fucking fantastic. I completed my first tattoo from start (drawing the design, making the stencil) to finish (highlights, cleanup, bandaging it up). Everyone that sees it can't believe it's my first. They say it looks professionally done, which is a huge compliment but it's all going to my head lately. In the past that would have been a bad thing, but lately I'm really fueled by the encouragement. I completed the tattoo in about an hour, maybe 90 minutes. Today I added a few touch ups I thought could use some attention, and added a purple glow around her to make it stand out. It's Hello Kitty posing as the Maneki Neko Lucky Cat you see in most Chinese places. I've been a Hello Kitty fan since I was teeny tiny, in fact, I have a picture of myself when I was two or so, in a hello kitty jumpsuit. I may have been a Japanese teenage girl in a past life, but fuck it, I love the hello kitty cuteness. It really is a soft spot for me, and it makes me feel good to have it on me now. I really feel this is a new stage of my life. My life as a tattoo artist, and having the life I've been working to obtain. I'm leaving my childish things behind, but I wanted to hold onto one.
Other then that, playing the World of Warcraft. I just transferred my character to a new server and times are fun. The new guild is a huge raiding guild but they all seem nice and dorky. My favorite old time friend is on that server, so I really hope I can help support him WoW healing style.
So, about the title of this blog; I hate Christmas music. I'm really not that big of a Xmas peron in general. Part of that being that I'm a semi-aggresive atheist and all this Jesus stuff makes me want to barf. The other part is that I havne't ever really had a good Christmas since I was 7 maybe 8. That was before my parents split up. I remember my wicked stepmother trying to get a tree and do up the holiday family style. She did try, I will give her that, however her rages and her abuse didn't fit the season quite right. Things always seemed out of place after my parents weren't together. I guess I never really thought about that, or wanted to admit it. I'm not one of those people that thinks mom and dad need to be together for the family to be happy, it just never was. Christmas was the first holiday my dad forgot to call me three years ago. I haven't heard from him since, and he always forgets everyday that could possibly be important to me. Not even my birthday. I had a birthday issue recently, and I think I know why my birthday is a big deal to me. It's not that I want it to be all about me, oh no. It my Christmas replacement. It's close to Xmas, I get gifts, and people seem way happier on that day. A Charlie Brown Christmas is playing on the radio at the hotel. Quick, get me a dilapadated tiny tree and a yack bag.
That's enough out of me tonight. I'll be back tomorrow.
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