Wednesday, December 26, 2012

A Rant

Today I am rather bored.

So now that the internet knows I am pregnant, I want to talk about it.  Like, why is it still there, in my belly?  Will I be able/want to wear all of my sweet shoes and heals after the child is born?  Doubtful.  I don't even want to wear them now.  Or my makeup.  I spent three years practicing and learning how to look and dress like a young professional woman, and now it's all for naught.  Why couldn't I just stay who I was when I started working?  Okay, I don't blame the baby for that, I blame my job for that.  If you work for old white men, they expect you to act like old white men.  And even if they don't...they don't get any of your jokes about velociraptors, putting faces on office supplies, leaving snarky but harmless notes on the food.  And they jokes they do understand, like pirate jokes, they make you tell everyone else, three times a year, every year for the rest of your life.  I no longer like pirate jokes that much.  And nothing is more disturbing to the people in the office than a snarky note left on the addictive peanut butter filled pretzel bites about how addictive they are.

There is a cow stress "ball" (it's cow shaped) on the edge of a framed mirror in my office.  It's up high near the ceiling.  Once a month coworker who has never noticed before, or noticed and forgot that they noticed, points it out to me with "Oh look it's a cow.  Cow. Look at your moo cow.  How did he get there?" Then I cut them.  There is a price tag on the mirror, the glass part.  My mom bought the mirror when I was in 8th grade from a yard sale.  My dad made the frame for it.  And neither of them ever took the price tag why should I?  Every single one of my coworkers has seen it and tried to rip it off, without asking me, right in front of me.  Why do people think that's okay?  It's on there pretty ain't coming off.  I have since covered it with a feather so people don't get bothered by it.

The other day I was on my way back from lunch with coworkers, and I we were talking about being new to the city and driving around and finding what roads go where and such.  I was trying to say "I don't let my fear of being lost stop me from driving on new roads." And it came out "I don't be afraid of gettin' lost".  Which is how my grammar used to be.  My coworker laughed and said "You are too light skinned to be talking like that!"  What!?!?  Thanks for the racist comment.  I like to hang around opinions like that. Not. 

All I did for the last three months was sleep, sleep, and avoid people.  I did not puke once. The best part is how hungry I am.  Like real hunger.  I stopped eating over the summer on my travels, and I knew I was hungry because my stomach hurt or sometimes I thought I was going to pass out.  So I ate some nuts and berries, or a banana.  And I'd go home and have dinner, whatever.  Then, one day, I was all, I'm eating breakfast!  What?!?!  Sandwich for lunch!!!!  "I know we are in the middle of a timed scavenger hunt, but team....I need to stop and eat!"  OMG! DINNER!!!!!!!!!!

Our grocery billed doubled and it was incredibly hard to keep enough food in the house.  If you are getting worried that I am eating too much to be a proper woman, that I am not maintaining my weight to remain desirable for my husband, don't. While exclaiming my new found delight in food and a healthy hunger, I was warned not to get too fat.  We woman can't enjoy life unless we starve ourselves into skinniness.

And you know who's the worst?  Ackbar!!  He's always wanting me to bend over and feed him.  Bend over and get his food out of the bag.  Bend over and pet him.  Bend over and pick him up.  It's only three months and I can't bend over any more! My back hurts sooo much.  Ugggh.  And people keep posting pictures on facebook of kids being naughty, or pictures on the internet of "funny" kids:  Kids who broke all of the eggs in the refridgerator onto the floor.  Kids with poop everywhere.  Kids spilling milk.  I dont' know..everything else kids do.  No privacy, no more sleep, teenagers with boyfriends or girlfriends in the house.  Not getting angry and keeping a level head when fighting with a child (not my strong point...I yell at the cat a lot or try to hit him back).  I need to get them a proper house.  I need to have people over, participate in community events, join groups to properly socialize the kids.  Teach them charity and how to save their money. 

I should make a spreadsheet/timeline that directs me when to do each item and when to teach them each life lesson.  Because that'll work good. ;)

Sunday, December 23, 2012

Just Being

"I was at the PostSecret Event in London. I didn't find the courage to go up to the microphone, but if I had been able to, this is what I would have said.
I spent so long feeling guilty, feeling ashamed of my sadness, and you know what? It just made me sadder. You are allowed to be sad, you are allowed to be angry, you're allowed to be depressed. We all deserve to feel our own sadness in our own time.
Something you will have heard before - you deserve to be happy. That, of course, is not always easy to hear, especially in the depths of depression - so let me add something. You deserve to be happy - but you don't have to be happy right now or all the time.
It is okay to be sad, it's okay to not be ready to be happy yet. One day you will be ready to recover - that day doesn't have to be today or even tomorrow, as long as you know and trust me that it will come.
It's okay not to be okay.
Thanks for everything Frank,
Holly, London
P.S My secret is that I decided last night that I'm ready to recover and it's going to be incredible."

This is from this weeks page.

It explains a lot of how I've been feeling.  Several months ago, around October, I finally got fed up with pretending to be happy with everyone.  Fed up with putting on a smile and laughing at everyone's jokes, even the ones that made me cringe inside and hurt more.  Fed up with being polite and worrying that I would make the world a worse place if I was honest.  Fed up with making everyone else's feelings my responsibility.  You know what, if you are annoyed at me, pissed at the world, or happy or not happy, I no longer care.  I really don't.  That is your problem and I have too many of my own to be spending that much energy on everyone else.

Also, I don't want to be happy.  I know it's a good thing to be so, but I've tried to be happy, I've pretended to think positive thoughts, I've pretended that everything is going to be okay.  But pretending just makes life worse and hells a lot harder.

Some days I am happy.  Some days I am not.  The world will not end either way, and I don't like ignorant and unthought out advice quoted from so many "self help" books or Secrets of life.  Those books don't know me, you don't know me, and continually bombarding me with cliche advice just makes me feel guilty for not being able to live to those standards, for not taking advice that is just so simple. 

Do you know why people give this advice?  It's because my unhappiness, my depression, makes them feel uncomfortable, sad, worried.  They don't like to feel those things, so by giving me unasked for advice, without thoroughly exploring why I feel so, makes them feel better.  Regardless of how I feel about it.  It's a selfish thing to do, and also, I think, just part of human nature.  

This is the part where I feel I should describe to you how I actually feel.  Explain to you everything.  Answer your questions.  But I just don't feel anything much any more.  No more anxiety, no more anger, no more happy, no more excitement.  And I just don't care.  Someday I'll feel again, but right now, I just don't.  And I'm satisfied with that...I'm not particularly ready to change.  You could say today is a happy day.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

This Is Not The Car You Are Looking For

Okay people.  Here is the scariest one instance that has happened to me in the last month. 

Josh and I were parked out front the gas station by our apartment.  He ran in to get some beer (so I guess it was Friday that it happened), and I stayed out to play Jewel Master on my phone.  I was kicking ass at it too when Josh got back in the car.  I thought "Gee you got through that line fast." then I noticed from the corner of my eye that Josh was taking up a lot more room in the car then normal...then he spoke and it was in such a deep voice!  I looked up and it was an older Asian man in my car!!!  I screamed and through myself to the side of the car and a million things raced through my mind.  Then I saw him trying to find the door handle to the driver's door and he said "I can't get out!".  The door handle had broken off a few years ago and the door only opens from the outside.  I started to tell him he has to open the windows to get out, and then I realized he didn't have keys.  My next thought was that we would have to wait until Josh gets back to let him out.  Finally, I said "Hold on." and got out and opened his door for him.

Can you imagine getting into someone else's car with a screaming woman in it and then realizing you can't get out!?  His English wasn't the greatest either.  Poor guy.  He did show me his car and how it looks very similar to Josh's. He was legit and not a robber/rapist/bad guy/evil person.  Thank goodness.

I also can't blame him for mistaking the cars.  I did that twice in college.  Both in winter, at night.  Once I was so sure it was my car and I thought the locks had frozen and that's why the key wouldn't go in.  I went to the nearby dorm and got some luke warm water to try and thaw the lock.  Luckily on my walk back I saw my car a few rows down from this car (there were only 2 cars to choose from too!)  Can you imagine if I poured water on the other car's lock and it froze?!

The second time, I tried really hard to get my key in the lock of the car, and because of my previous experience, I realized after 2 minutes that it wasn't my car.  Looking around to see if anyone noticed, I saw the popular guy from my class who had a giant red afro and was from the band: The Burning Bushes (Mount Pleasant Local band), walking towards the car, and then later get in it.  He totally saw me try to break into his car!!