I Tried To Laugh It Off But I Made Things Worse

I've always said that I have no regrets.  Everything that I've been through, good, bad or indifferent has made me the person I am today.  While I'm still a work in progress, I feel pretty all right with who I am.  So why would I regret the choices that have made me, me?  At least, that's my working theory.  I have my moments of doubt for sure.  Recently I heard two little words that made me realize that I do wish that there are some things I'd done differently.

My wife.

Those are the words that absolutely cut me to the bone.  Things happen the way they're meant to.  I truly believe that.  I just know that had I known then what I know now, I'd choose differently than I did.  The aftermath of those words reverberating in my mind is that I began to look back at my life and think about the things I'd do differently had I known better at the time.  Nothing can be changed now and I wouldn't want to have a re-do even if I could.  I just look back with melancholy at a few situations I've been through.  Yes, apparently hindsight is 20/20 and all the other cliches in that same vein.

I know that I'd have chosen my words more carefully.  I'd think longer and more meaningfully about making decisions that not only affected me, but also people I cared deeply about.  I'd answer the phone more and rely on voice mail and caller ID less.  I'd have given myself the benefit of the doubt much more often.  I would have valued friendship more and fleeting romance less.  Apologies would have been more abundant.

Life is like that I guess.  You fall in love, you make friends... You think you know more than you do.  Friendships fade if not tended to.  You second guess that love you fell in.  You stumble and fall.  You make bad decisions.  Not everything winds up the way you planned it.  You get lost on your way to a dream.  Maybe you find a better one.  Maybe you're still figuring it all out.  And maybe, just maybe, that melancholy you feel about the things you should've done differently becomes part of the fabric of who you are.  Maybe it makes you stronger and wiser.

Today's title is from "Second Chance" by Faber Drive.

I Caught Myself

Until fairly recently, I thought that my days of awkward first dates were long behind me.  I relished that thought, as I really loathe the whole first date experience.  First kiss is another story, one which I'll delve into in another post, perhaps.  The thought of never having to have the first date jitters again made me very happy.  I'm not so great with awkward pauses, and I don't really know how to read people as well as I'd like to think I do.  Well, at least not within the realm of the first date scenario.  To my utter chagrin, I've been thrust back into the dating scene.  It's not that I don't like meeting new people, because I do.  I just hate the first date format.  Even when it's just a cup of coffee or a cocktail, it's weird.

So imagine my surprise when a first date I went on recently started out surprisingly well.  In fact, I was positively giddy.  This guy was handsome, funny, successful, humble, chivalrous and sexy.  I felt an instant attraction and was happy to find that there were no awkward moments to be had during the first part of our meeting.  I was beginning to think that Mr. Handsome would definitely be getting a second date.  I even kissed him (ahhh first kisses are so wonderful) and it was very, very nice.

Imagine my disappointment when Mr. Handsome morphed into Dr. Asshole in one short step.  Things were humming along just peachy when, out of nowhere, he says something so repulsive that I shall not repeat it herein.  I was flummoxed, to say the very least.  All at once, the lyrics from a Paramore song came rushing into my brain:  "I don't know what I want, but I know it's not you."  Obviously the date backslid into ugly first date zone at a fast clip after that.  When we parted ways, I don't really think Dr. Asshole understood what went wrong.  He definitely knew that something definitely went haywire, though.

They say a girl has to kiss a lot of frogs before finding her prince.  I've kissed plenty in my day...  I'll keep on kissing them until I find one that isn't positively a horny toad.  I can't say it's not a little bit disheartening to stumble upon a guy who seems to be the real deal, only to have my hopes dashed with a few words.  On the other hand, at least it happened on our first date and not years into the relationship.  I hate it when that happens. 

*Thanks to Paramore for today's blog title and lyrics (I Caught Myself) .

Random is Good... Sometimes.

I don't ordinarily post random shit on here that tickles me, but tonight I'm sitting at the new computer I got for Christmas, surfing the interwebs and I decided that tonight is the night.  After having been relegated to using nothing more than my cell phone for internet crawling for the past month, I feel like a super speed demon with Windows 7 and Firefox 3.5 blazing away on this bad boy.  So as I pass some time catching up on things I've missed in the last few months of having either a Jurassic-era slow computer or no computer at all, I decided it was time to post some random internet flora and fauna that makes this girl giggle with glee.  Yes, I went for alliteration there.  Suck it.



This one makes me laugh because my boyfriend, Mr. Z, works at the establishment that posts these very bulletin boards with photos of employees.  The fact that November is a ham just makes me laugh.



Little known fact:  Mr. Z and I met on eHarmony.  Apparently his answer differed from this one, thank goodness.



I almost peed myself when I saw this because, frankly, that's how I feel sometimes.



Does this need a fucking explanation?  It's just funny.  LMAO.



Sadly, I may have dated this guy at one time.



If I ever went deaf, I would be SO pissed off.  Like caps-lock typing PISSED OFF.



I like ironic Jesus-Is-Watching stuff... And this one takes the cake.



Really?  Fuck you, DOT.



My personal favorite, as I've taken flight lessons.  Apparently this student was just shy of "learning to fly here".  For shame.

So that does it for now, kids.  I had a good random giggle.  After being in a foul mood for the past couple days, I certainly needed it.  Hope you enjoyed it as well!

Oh and PS- Here's a picture of my old computer monitor meeting its demise. :)

Do you even OWN a mirror???

Once upon a redneck in a ridge far, far away, I used to live on a lake. I wore bikinis and shook my minuscule little tween behind around like I was a big shot. Said behind isn't so minuscule anymore, and it's not clad in a bikini anymore. It's lucky if it ever sees the light of day. The days on the lake seem like a far off, forgotten world to me. It was 15 years ago. I'm an adult now. I have better sense. This is why I don't understand this picture.



Calm down, their faces have been blurred out and I doubt they read well enough to even know what a 'blog' is. I just don't get it. It seems as though they got their bikini pieces mixed up, because the one on the left has a top that obviously is squishing her boobs into submission, while the one on the right has bottoms that must be cutting off circulation to her lower extremities (while her monstrous juggies threaten to burst forth from under the cups of that flimsy top).


I am no bathing beauty. Let me state in another manner: I am not a swimsuit model. I look scary in a bathing suit. Hopefully not this hideous, but not so great either... Anyway, the point is, I'm not trying to be 15 still. I've given in to the fact that I'm rounding the bend toward 30 and I have to dress appropriately. Besides, even if these two were bound and determined to go out in all their teenage finery, did neither of them look in a damn mirror?!?!?!?!?!!?


I'd like to think that if one of them had seen their reflection, they would have stopped and said, "Oh. I look sad. This isn't the best look for me. Maybe if I tried a one piece I'd look a little less desperate..." What I suspect is more likely is that they both looked in the mirror, thought they looked passable and decided to go out anyway.


Would you be even the least bit surprised to learn that these two list their relationship statuses on Facebook as "single"? Didn't think so.

How to Succeed at FAIL

There is a girl (I can't bring myself to call her a 'woman') at work who I've given every benefit of the doubt. I have tried my very hardest to put on my imaginary 'WWJD' bracelet, which for me is asking a whole hell of a lot considering I'm not even Christian. Amongst my office friends, there have been many discussions about this girl, trying to discern what exactly it is that is wrong with her. "She must not know what a total asshole she is." "No. She knows. She just does not care." "Heather is on a power trip." "It's all about showing us that she's the smartest, but the way she goes about it just makes her look stupid." The theories abound.

When I first started working the job I'm at, I just thought that maybe she was over-zealous. That quickly morphed into her being a busy-body. From there she became, in my eyes, a bully. After that, as I became more comfortable with (and aware of) my surroundings, I began to realize the situation was much more complex that I could have ever imagined. Here's how good ole Heather totally succeeds... At FAIL.

Heather is friends with our manager, Carla. Carla doesn't have any managerial experience at all, and Heather takes full advantage of this. She takes every opportunity to put her two cents in about everything, whether she's asked for her input or not. Heather managed to royally piss off and alienate the one guy in our department, Brian. Brian is a really nice guy who's easy to get along with. She told him that he was rude and demeaning to everyone in the department. None of us have any idea what she's talking about. Heather is an employee of another company that supports the firm that I work for. That company doesn't have management on-site, so it seems like she feels that since her boss isn't around she can do whatever she wants... He'll never know. She texts all day long (with Carla) and giggles incessantly about the texts. The rest of us are constantly paranoid that the texts are about us, although we've all gone way past the point of actually caring anymore. She comes in to work in the morning talking on her cell phone, then proceeds to sit down at her desk and talk to her boyfriend about nothing in particular for at least 15 minutes before starting to work... This wouldn't be a problem if she didn't talk LOUDLY and laugh like a hyena. She interjects herself into any personal conversation being had by anyone in the department, because really, it's all about her.

The final straw for me came earlier today. I inherited some files that she had begun work on previously. This is nothing out of the ordinary--I'm still relatively new, and someone had to inherit part of her workload to offset the overflow. This morning I was checking a file that I had inherited from her, and I noticed that she had made notations in the file two days ago. Two days ago? What? I'm perplexed. So I read the note, and it was barely even in English. I suppose it would pass for English in West Virginia or somewhere... But I'm not from West Virginia and WHY ARE YOU IN MY FILE????? I could not for the life of me figure out what she had done or what I needed to do to proceed from the notation she made. I did however, see from her hillbilly-ese that she had spoken to Carla about the file. So I emailed Carla and CC'd Heather. I copied her notation into the email and asked that, in the future, if there are going to be complex issues discussed on my files, that I'd like to be involved and CC'd on emails.

The first reply I got back was from Heather:
"Hence the note."

It was all I could do not to reply:
But I can't read your fucking hillbilly language. Speak English you damn mongoloid!!!!!!!!!!

Instead I took a deeeep breath, collected myself and began to send another email explaining why I thought it was important to be kept in the loop, since I'm responsible for the outcome of these files, etc, when I get an email from Carla:
"Stop it."

Very professional. Did I forget to mention that Heather and Carla are like two little peas in a little friggin pod? No? I mentioned it? Well, it bears mentioning again. Anyway, long story short, I got shut down by Carla, who told me that Heather's hillbilly note in my file was more than sufficient and that I need to stop bickering. Heather succeeded in completely alienating herself not only from me, but also from everyone else who is friends with me in the office. I.e. everyone else. FAIL succeeded. It's about to get Biblical.


*To protect the not-so-innocent, all names have been changed.