We were at the theatre last night and our usher, who I suspect was drunk or on her way to being, screamed at us (well, me) for finding our own seats. "E-scuse me" tap tap tap on my shoulder "you have to wait to be directed."...

"Yeah, it's ok...I think she just found our seats. Thanks though. Can I have a play bill? And your flask? Thanks."

I was just outside the office this morning, when I see one of our managing directors approaching from the opposite direction. Nice guy, doesn't know quite what to do with the power that he naturally exudes so he throws it around a little bit too much, but whatever. As we draw closer to the office, a Fresh Direct delivery truck stops at the curb long enough for the driver to look at me and say, "hi. Nice ass." Lovely.

I was digging for my key card and paused to grimace at the guy...I enjoy a good catcall now and then, but not at 7 am when somone I work with overhears. I thought he was gonna choke on his coffee, he was so squirmy as we walked through the door together. Tripped up the stairs and thanked me profusely for holding the door for him. Thanks. Thank you. Thanks very much. Uh, sure. I'm thinkin' "that made you uncomfortable? Curious. Maybe you'll think about that next time you're throwing all of that misguided power around."

If I don't mess something up at least once a week, I get very nervous. Because that means something big might happen...

Good news is, I messed something up today, so I'm probably all set. Don't worry, I just knocked on wood.

The problem is the guilt that I feel when I do something wrong. Not "wrong in the name of fun" wrong (cute boy, for example - that's totally wrong but it is sooo much fun, it doesn't bother me at all), but messing up at work (today) or forgetting to do something for my family or neglecting that phone call that I really need to make...everything else I can put to the side and deal with; guilt is almost debilitating. I know that people make mistakes and I know that no one is perfect and I need to learn how to deal, but here I am. Sitting at my desk. Writing my ten minutes because I feel so bad that I can't do anything else.

Boo to guilt.

I felt like this was applicable after last nights "exchange":


Friday, May 04, 2007

Ironic Karma

I swear to God...
And I really do. Shit is funny. It's good that I find it humorous, because it's the way it IS. If I didn't - lots more drinking than I already do, I think. That's all I'm saying.

So, it is a common trend, influenced by Murphy's Law, no doubt, that the minute you swear something off you are inundated with so many temptations Job would break. It never fails. At least with me anyway. It's how I know God has the kind of sense of humor I can appreciate.
Imagine. You swear off alcohol (like really swear it off, not how I do, where I don't consider wine and beer to actually count as alcohol) and next second your date's standing on your doorstep with a bottle of your favorite really hard to find wine. You just say no to chocolate (why would you DO that?) in all forms, and Mom makes you a chocolate ganache fudge cake with rasberry filling for your birthday...thanks Mom.

You have decided you need to abstain for awhile from any carnal activities, and suddenly everything male with a heartbeat is offering it up to you, including the dog that is humping your leg while you're standing on the street corner, dialing your therapist. You have frozen your credit card in three graduated levels of tupperware, and ALL of your favorite stores (if you're serious about shopping you have WAY more than one) are having incredible sales. On everything. All in your size. And it fits.

What can we say about will-power, and the constant tests of our temperament and resolve as soon as we cross our hearts and hope to die over anything? 'Cause you know something, somehow somewhere is going to prove whether or not you really mean it. I'm convinced God is waving at me from Heaven going, "Hi, remember me? The one you have to answer to eventually? Yeah, I think this is REAL funny, this you-think-you-actually-have-control-thing ya got going on down there. Good luck with that."

When I got to the point of respect; for myself, for those that I cared about, for life in general, bad things got easier to drop. Even when I was tempted. The temptation seemed more like a bother if anything "eck. This bores me. I am so done with all of this. Out of my face please." Of the things that I swear off but keep coming back to, it's all so perfectly comical to me now that I don't get upset anymore. I just laugh. A lot. And shake my head.

And thank God for my friends who have fake toenails. That tends to put things in perspective.

Well then. Looks like I may have met my match...natch. I mean, Murphy's is the law that I apply liberally to my life, right? It only makes sense!

P.S. -

Did you ever stop to think that the way I am may be a reaction to you? 'Cause I stop to think that all the time...

10 minutes before everyone gets into the office...

Hmmmm....OH! Jesus! Eyes!! SWOON, my GOD. I am such a sucker for light eyes in a tan face…oh, here we go again…

Do you know how many times I typed “backend of our system” today? And do you know that I giggled like Beavis every time that I did it? Backend…huh, huh, huh huh huh...

I enjoy behaving like a 10 year old, thank you. When I am stuffed in a "cube" for 12 hours a day, I find it refreshing. No one else does, but they can bite my butt. So there.

I don't think I am going to have anything cohesive to write, right now. There is nothing that is staying still long enough in my brain. Except for the fact that I am truly looking forward to busting my ass this week so that I can enjoy my time while Shawn is here this weekend. Shawn will be the good kind of fun and I can't wait!

MOVE!
Move, move, move MOVE!

You live in the fastest-paced city in the world, possibly in the entire UNIVERSE…if you cannot manage to walk/talk, blackberry, text message, put your make-up on, ready the paper, do a CROSS WORD PUZZLE, then put all of that junk in you big manhattanite purse/man bag/whatever and GET. TO. STEPPIN’! And listen, I realize that not everybody walks at the speed of a freight train, like I do. And I realize that some people have physical handicaps that slow them down, so steps and curbs and what not are harder for them. I get that. And I have patience for them, of course I do, they deserve that. But if you are in my way not so much because you are physically handicapped (or just happen to walk slower) but more consideration-aly or spatially challenged, then shift one foot to the side so that we can get around you, PLEASE. If it is the only thing that you contribute to this earth while you are here on it, I beg of you, MOVE!

When you are on stairs or in a narrow space (supermarkets isles in Manhattan are the bane of my existence) and need to slow down, pause, stop completely, wait until you clear the bottle neck so that other people can get by you! You are not the only person in the world…I thought I might point this out to you because it seems that you haven’t noticed. I swear to God, the next time someone stops to rifle in their bag at the foot of the stairway at the 23rd street station, I am going to just put my shoulder and all of my rage and frustration into knocking them right over. And I’m pretty sure I’m not even going to pause or look back, either. Might hold someone else up if I do. God for-freakin'-bid.

Damn.

No one ever praised me for my everyday patience, folks. Especially not at 7 a.m.

I sleep with your books under my pillow, hoping to absorb the spirit of their brilliance into my brain. I carry your pages around just under my skin; when I daydream, I like to imagine that I can peer through my milky, transparent skin and see the letters form the words form the sentences form the quotes that I draw my most piercing inspiration from. I envy you and your art, I envy you and your release, I envy your voice that has imparted itself in these words and is now immortally speaking to and touching people that don't even know you.

They may laugh, they may judge, and even worse, they may dismiss, but someday they may realize that they have physically been touched by you and they never knew, never knew who...what you were. Now they do. Now they most certainly do.

That envy - equal parts respect and awe, admiration and recognition - that your voice in my head creates in my heart is what make me so determined to do what I can that I can physically taste it...it's metallic, tastes like blood and it's starting now to overpower the flavor of my food. It is the single thing that drives me and makes me want to fight, to love and to laugh every single minute that I can because I know, through it all, that these things are what will give me my own voice to put in people's heads, so that they can never again underestimate who I am.

I just woke up. I love how even my body is now in on the "let's us sleep as an avoidance tactic" thing that my brain normally uses. I have so much to do it's epic, and yet I stay up until 4:30 am and sleep into the afternoon...but "stop being so hard on yourself, Kel. You're too hard on yourself."

Alrighty then.

I like how I am growing professionally, even though I am not sure this is the profession I want to settle in. I like how I am writing everyday and being more open (at least through my writing, that's a start, yeah?) I like how I don't really care anymore if what I am doing rubs you the wrong way; even if I am wrong...I like how I am learning that sometimes people make mistakes and sometimes other people forgive them for it. I like how I am giving myself more credit, and more respect and saying no to things that devalue who I am. I like that I am standing up for myself more and more.

And now I am ravenously hungry and need to go see if there is any food I like before I become the largest crank ass within a five block radius and kick someone in the ankle again.

Bless.