What does she see in me?

Have you ever thought… what does she see in me?  In the situation that I’m referencing, it’s not romantic.  Sadly, in this case, “what does she see in me” is a reflection on my poor self-image, and how that low esteem prevented me from protecting my friend.

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I worked at a downtown office when I met her… she was a bombshell blonde executive with what appeared to me to be the perfect body, perfect smile, and terrific personality.  We seemed to hit it off right away and had it not been for her fabulous attributes, I would have thought we were friends.  However, she was a Gucci brand and I was a Walmart special.  What could she possibly see in me to want to be my friend?  I’m fat.  I’m homely.  And I recently had a baby and my hair is thinning.  She wears what appear to be high designer clothes and I’m struggling to make ends meet to buy at thrift shops.  She drives a beautiful Toyota and I drive a used Ford.  Since I had no attribute that anyone would see worthy enough to want to build a friendship on, she must just be nice in the office as it’s the polite thing to do. 

Well, time went on and we shared a few laughs and even went for lunch a couple times.  Then the day came when I let my guard down and decided that maybe… just maybe… she was sincere and actually liked me as a friend.  I remember that day.  We both worked in the lower level of the building and her office was right beside my reception desk.  She had brought a Siamese fighting fish into her office and called me in to see it.  She also had a bamboo plant that she took great pride in because it didn’t need sunshine or much water so she wouldn’t kill it.  We laughed.  

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At that moment, I accepted that she had a warm heart and could see beyond my nothingness and was a friend.  My little girl, who was four at the time, would come into the office every so often and would look for Christy, who she truly believed was Barbie.  I’d say, “No, Christy.”  She’s say “No Mom… Barbie.”  So I left the little girl to believe her idol had come to life and that Barbie was as beautiful of a human being on the inside as plastic Mattel Barbie portrayed on the outside.

Christy eventually changed jobs and we didn’t work together anymore.  However, we would still get together and visit.  Over time, Christy and I grew closer and started having girlfriend chats about “boys” over lunch.  We shared our secrets, fears and insecurities.  I was shocked that the person who I thought lived the perfect life, actually had some insecurities.  It’s like I realized that her blood ran red, just like mine.  I vowed that if there was ever a person that I could trust on this earth, it was Christy!  A true friend.

Well the day came when Christy, met her Prince Charming.  His name was Joe.  WOW… he was a good looking boy.  If she was Barbie, he certainly was her Ken.  She was so happy.  They were the perfect couple.  He was truly a prince and treated her like the queen she was.   I was so happy for my dear friend.  Then the day came when she told me she was getting married.  I was so happy for her!  And on that special day, I sat in the third row of the First Baptist Church with great pride and joy for her!   After the service, I gave her a hug on the steps of the church and told Joe “Please take care of my friend, I love her too.”

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I hadn’t heard from Christy after the wedding, thinking of course she is on a honeymoon… a perfect honeymoon.  Then after they returned, I didn’t hear from her but I thought: “she’s got step sons now, so she’s busy with them.”  After a few weeks, I ran into Christy at the Douglas Park racetrack.  My daughter and her stepsons were both cross-country running for their respective schools.  Christy, Joe, me and my husband Dave sat in the bleachers and chatted.   Christy had mentioned that she was thinking about quitting her job and being a stay at home mom.  WOW!  That’s so not like her, I thought, but marriage something changes things.  How lucky, the person with the perfect life, now gets to be a stay at home mom with her stepsons, something I had always wanted to do for my daughter.  But I was happy for Christy!  After all, she was my friend!

I tried calling Christy a few times after that meeting but calls were not returned.  I justified it by saying that she was busy being an awesome stepmom! 

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Then the moment of “truth” happened.  Again, we meet at Douglas Park as our kids are at another cross country meet.  I see her and wave over at her and she barely acknowledged me.  I went to sit on the bleachers with her but it was obvious that Joe and her wanted to be alone.  She didn’t even smile at me.  She just looked down, a forced grin now and again, but that’s all. 

So, the truth comes out: 

• I am an embarrassment to her.  
• She does not want to be seen in public with the likes of me.  
• It’s because I am <fill in the blank here… some suggestions are poor, not fashionable, certainly not pretty, fat… any derogatory term would suffice>. 

So, back to what does she see in me?       …Nothing good.

 

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She doesn’t want my friendship.  She doesn’t like me anymore.  Whatever she was using me for (and I still can’t possibly think of what to put here as it’s insane thinking) but whatever she was using me for, she’s done with.  What does she see in me?  Nothing worthy.  I leave knowing I will never see her again.  I just don’t fit in with her perfect lifestyle.

Fast forward a few years.  I’ve grown a bit.  I see her name cross my “You may know” list on Facebook.  I send a message “Remember me?” with a few more formal niceties.  Then she adds me as a friend and all is happy again.  I see she is no longer with Joe… what the heck?  

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And she lives and works in Carribean!!  Oh my gosh!  WOW!  Good for her.  I was so happy for her!  I had matured and much of my insecurity had diminished so all was literally forgotten.  I had my friend back!  I had vowed to get to Carribean to see her but each time my plans either fell apart or my money was needed elsewhere.  One way or another, I would find my friend again.  I missed her.

Fast forward a couple years later.  She’s moved back to Canada and has a baby!  Wow!  How perfect is that?  She lives in another city but close enough that I know we will see each other again.  Then one day I get a text:  “I’ll be in Regina on Tuesday and really want to see you.  Let’s go for supper!”  My heart skipped a beat!  This isn’t a one-way longing.  She wants to see ME too!  We meet at Earls and give each other a long overdue hug!  I had my friend back!  Just as we are about to catch up, we see a lady Christy knew sitting at a table all alone.  Neither Christy or I would enjoy ourselves if we didn’t invite her over.  After all, nobody should have to eat alone.  Needless to say, Christy and I did not get the nitty-gritty questions asked or answered but we had a wonderful time anyway!

One more fast forward to last month. 

I am chatting with Christy online when I can tell that she needs a friend.  More than that, she needs a hug!  The very next day, I get up bright and early… which is a HUGE sacrifice for me, and I drive two hours to give her a hug and have lunch.  While at lunch, I ask that question I’ve been dying to know:  What happened to Joe?  

Perfect Joe… Perfect Joe was actually wife-beater Joe. 

Yes, shortly after they said “I do”… well, everyone knows how this paragraph ends....

On the long drive back home, God opened the book of memories in my brain, and what I saw disgusted me.

Rewind to that day at Douglas Park.  Of course she wasn’t smiling.  Of course she faked a grin.  Of course Joe did not want them to sit with us.  It’s all the signs of abuse.

And I allowed my own insecurities to blind me. 

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So what did she see in me?  A hell of a lot more than I saw in myself, that’s for sure! 

How I hated myself for this!  I let her down! 

Many years have passed since that day.  Our lives took different turns and they are not perfect in anyway, but they are fulfilling with the laughter and hugs of our children… and fulfilling when we hug each other and just talk about “boys” again. True friends can be apart for years, but they pick up where they left off like it was yesterday.  

I felt intense guilt for not seeing the signs, but moreso, for being selfish.  I was young, foolish, insecure and … human.  I forgive myself.  I know she forgives me.  And the best pay-it-forward I can do is to have others read this story for the time when they ask themselves “what does she see in me?

Loneliness - Feeding the Demons

A friend shared this with me and gave me permission to post this.  I found it interesting.  Maybe you will too.

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Loneliness floods the gates and leaves me alone with no escape except to drown in my own mind.

I speak and the walls, although not deaf, are mute.  The dark spirits encompass me, with their long ecru fingernails prying at my skin trying to enter the blackness of my mind – their winner’s circle.

As I reach out, my voice is silenced by the sounds of the ramblings of others far more important than myself.  Those who believe my openness is an automatic door to “listen to me”, “my kid did this”, and “you’ll never believe what <insert spouse’s name here> did”. 

How is this ok?  How do I justify this? 

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It takes two to be lonely, one that needs to speak and one that needs to be heard.  Currently, if I am the listener, then one of the two is no longer alone and she is being heard.  I take her loneliness away.  With their fuel to survival subsiding, her demons flee… she feels freer, she feels loved, she feels … loved.   She feels like someone cares about her.  

Whereas me… well, I tell myself that I am stronger than she was.  I can handle it.  My demons feeding from my loneliness keep scratching and clawing.  The nerves to my skin are numb.  I no longer feel.  Their white eyes, white piercing pupil-less eyes, the only light within their midnight black silky shadows, their eyes… hypnotically drill into my soul. 

It’s a faceoff.  An eternal face off…

Different Types of Communcators (AKA: Getting My GUTS back!!)

From the "Best of..." Files

 (I wrote this in March last year, 3 months before the start of my transformation.  I have not published it until now.  It is about tragedy, fear, cowardice and strength.  When you get to the end, you will understand why I say that.)

There are myriads of people who can perform on life's stage. Among them are

* those who have nothing to say and say nothing
* those who have something to say but can't say it
* those who have something to say and yell it from the rooftops and
* those who have the ability to yell from the rooftops yet allow themselves to be unheard.

Those who have nothing to say and say nothing:

Let's start with the first group - have nothing to say and say nothing. One would think this group is quiet, stone-faced, and monk-like. They possibly wander thoughtlessly through meadows or into the middle of a busy street. However the folks that I have met from this group are just the opposite. They are often loud, obnoxious, and arrogant. They talk and talk and talk, most often about themselves. They announce their accomplishments with great pride, accomplishments which include chugging 12 Coors light while standing on a table holding a pickle in their left hand. Other topics of conversation include "Reasons I'm right and you're wrong", "Damn, I'm good ... and not a bad physique either," and my all time favorite "Hey!! Watch me!! Watch! I'm about to do something really, really stupid!!" This is a primal group that usually evolves into a high level of communication.

Those who have something to say but can't say it:

There is another group which are too uncomfortable to communicate ideas so they manipulate others to spread the message for them. These people are often recognized by their avoidance of the limelight however are heard whispering thought provoking tidbits here and there. They may want something but are afraid to ask for fear of rejection. They may also have an idea they want to spread but are afraid of being ridiculed so they get someone else to take responsibility for it.  They are "idea farmers". The will drop the seed of thought into the mind of someone who can bring the idea to life. Watering the seed with frequent reminders and prompted conversations regarding the aforesaid idea, the farmer will add sunshine by means of regular bits of new information about the seed. A simplified example is found around the breakfast table;  Let's say the farmer wants to go to the zoo but may be too afraid of rejection to ask.  On Monday, the farmer might say "I like zoos." Tuesday, she might water the idea with a topic about the african lion, which by the way, can be found in a zoo. Wednesday, the sunshine radiates and the topic of Calgary hosting a stampede in July comes up, reminding the target-person that there is a zoo in Calgary. Thursday, the target-person comes up with this wonderful idea:  Let's take the kids to Calgary for the weekend and see the zoo.


Those who have something to say and yell it from the rooftops:

Some people have ideas which, if shared, would make the world a different place... either for the better or worse. Some folks share these thoughts by standing on a stage using big words to justify their over-education on the topic of which they are speaking. Other communicators share their message using the fine arts of the world. These ideas are often expressed in forms of music, drama, sculpture, paint and dance. Philosophers and politicians fit into this group - John Kennedy, Pierre Trudeau, Nostradamus, Plato, Aristotle, Daryl Hannah, and Charlton Heston. Of no less importance, are the spokespeople for various foundations, the Ministers of the local churches, the people in favour of a new stadium, people not in favour of a new stadium, and those which we call "motivational speakers." These folks have something in common - although they may have been chastised and persecuted for their ideas, they were strong enough to continue because they believe in their cause.


Those who have the ability to yell from the rooftops yet allow themselves to be unheard:

The final group is the most tragic of all. They have the power to change things - either for good or for bad. Like Pinky and the Brain, they possibly could take over the world, but by the time the episode ends, nothing has changed. These people have absolutely no problem standing in front of a crowd to speak, but feel they have nothing to say. They are unrecognizable, like chameleons against the walls. They draw pictures but do not show them to others. They write poetry for no-one to read. Some memorize Macbeth soliloquies and perform scenes with passion to the audience in the mirror. They dance like no one is watching because they are alone in their room. And the steering wheel is the recipient of a rock & roll serenade.

When they listen to others they tend to deeply absorb the information. For days after, they may question "why" to almost every statement and sometimes find the answer. Sadly, the answers are never shared. The thoughts provoked are only for the one mind. If only these thoughts could be shared with a friend, a stranger, a group or the world ... maybe.... hmmm... could it make a difference? Maybe like dropping a pebble full of ideas in the ocean, the wave would carry forever - or until another idea wave crashed it down sending the ideas on totally different tangents.

Why you ask, would someone imprison these thoughts, these ideas, these seeds of fruition, either good or bad? One unnamed theorist, not saying that she is typing this right now or not, but this theorist claims that these people feel that their ideas are too bizarre to share with anyone. Being laughed at and ridiculed for some "thinking outside the box" concepts negatively reinforces repeated behavior and strengthens the chains of the once opened mind. Ridicule and humiliation... no more to be said. This theorist often question where Mahatma Ghandi or Martin Luther King Jr or Rosa Parks got their strength and faith because it seems inhuman - a synonym for impossible.

Ironic that I write this because I can relate to this group. This is my forte. I have been a spokesperson before for different groups and organizations. I have spoken on a stage in front of hundreds of people. I have been on television and radio sharing a message, one of which was not my own. With confidence and a false sense of grandeur, I can stare into the eyes of others and tell them what I'm being paid to say - and they sometimes even believe me. 

But - and the world is full of big "buts" (not the one you sit on) - But, I am unable to share my own ideas.

No.... allow me to change that... I have been unwilling to share my own ideas due to the acts of some stupid ignorant people who attempted to shut me up.

... until now maybe. I have many blogs that I have written that go unread. Will I have the strength tonight to publish them? If these words get shared, meaning they have been read obviously by you (the reader), it means that I have won. I am no longer "Dancing In the Dark" (yes, a Springsteen reference).  

I just pray I have the guts to continue and press "publish".

God Bless Everyone!

Michael Jackson: Death of a Man; Immortality of a Legend.

From "The Best of..." Files

 

(This was originally written June 28, 2009.  Michael Jackson was a huge part of my growing up.  When he died, I felt like a part of my childhood and innocence died too.  I know it sounds weird, but I can't change how I felt.  I wrote this 3 days after his death.)

It was grade 9 and as I was leaving one of the classrooms at Sheldon Williams Collegiate, I first heard Michael Jackson’s “Beat It”. 

 

“I can’t believe they are playing Michael Jackson,” one of my friends said derogatorily.

“This is Michael Jackson? The same one from the Jackson 5?  This isn’t bad,” I replied.

“Not bad?!  Disco died!” I was curtly told. 

 

Well, when Thriller hit the charts and Michael Jackson’s videos hit the airwaves, the derogatory comments became very superlative.  Michael Jackson was emerging into who would soon to be referred to as the “Prince of Pop.”

 

Yes, like every girl thereafter, I was totally “in love” with MJ.  (Keep in mind, I was 14 and “in love” had a different meaning.)  I was going to marry him one day … along with Simon Le Bon and some other hunks of the day.  But you know, in my heart, there was something different about Michael.  He was hot - but did not seem conceited.  His falsetto would get my hormones raging and to watch a video was like being entranced by a wizard.  Hypnotic.  Almost Spiritual in a weird way.

Well, that was my experience of Michael while he was on top, when everyone loved him.  Then, the rumors came.  The tabloids attracted everyday folks to these stories and convinced people to believe it.  After all “a source close to the singer” and “his good friend” said blah blah blah… Gee  it must be true.  After all, these sources and good friends wouldn't lie about him for money - would they? 
No, his friends wouldn’t.

 

People turned against Michael like running from the plague.  After all, the man had the “elephant man’s bones”.  He dated his chimpanzee, Bubbles.  He’s trying to have plastic surgery to look like Diana Ross, Liz Taylor, or yes, even Bubbles.  To heck with his music…

wait…

His music? 

 

Music?     The “truth” of the tabloids seemed to erase the music and the fact that he was a gifted musician who the world “loved” years and months before.  Who could forget how they felt when we watched him crawl into bed with that chick in Billie Jean. He wasn't considered to be a freak then. And how quickly they forgot that it used to be cool to have "Thriller" playing at the dance clubs.  But now that he’s supposedly sleeping in a hypodermic chamber, people seem to have forgotten about how they felt during these moments. 

So I ask again:  The music? 

 

When people would laugh at him in the supermarkets, I defended him. 

"That is just tabloid crap.  Nobody knows it to be true.  And I still like his music!” I would say. 

“You are so dumb and naive,” I was told.  “Can’t you read? It’s right there in black and white.” 

 And yet, I still liked his music. 

I liked his music because he was a great musician and a great artist.  There was something special about him that defined him differently than other artists.  This is why he was stalked by the paparazzi.  Why didn’t they go after Simon Le Bon or Paul McCartney (circa 1984 - not 1964) like they did with Michael?  Because Michael sold.  Stories of Michael brought in bigger dollars because he had more "fans?" who would buy the story.

 

To make a long story much shorter, the people who loved him the most, his fans, were the ones who created the misery for him.  They turned their back on the music and started following “the man” they thought he was.  The fans who loved him became the people that hated him.  They needed more tabloid trash like the junkie needs a fix and they lapped it all up.  These fans helped build Michael to the top of the music world.  They created the legend.  They crowned him the “King of Pop”.  And they, the fans, destroyed his life in doing so forcing him into the life as a recluse. 

 

I can tell you almost every detail of Michael Jackson’s life.  I know all his family’s names, his birthday, religious beliefs and conversions.  I have every one of his albums and know the words to most of the songs.  I know how many awards he’s won and who he took to the American Music Awards.  That by no means indicates that I know the man named Michael Jackson.  I know the artist.  I know the legend. I know the music.  I know the words.

 

Few people know the man, the human being.  And it is this person who is truly loved.  His loved ones don’t scream at the sight of him or reach their arms out for a touch of his jacket.  His loved ones held him when he cried, laughed at jokes with him and shared their family moments with him.  Those who love MJ, know what he looks like without make up.  They have probably seen him with a cold holding a box of Kleenex and asking for a hot bowl of soup and whining about being sick all day (like a normal man).  These are the people that loved him.

 

To the Michael I knew, to Michael Jackson, the legend and the artist, to Michael Jackson, the King of Pop, and to Michael Jackson who I have no idea whether you had the elephant man’s bones or not and I don’t care because I enjoy your music, to this Michael Jackson, my last words to you are:  I totally love you with all my heart as you were a part of my life … I love your music, I love how you’ve changed the world of dance and video and I love the way you make me feel watching “Smooth Criminal” or “Ghost”.  Yes, I love your music, your talent and the character you portrayed in my life and I will love that forever because you will never ever die.  You are immortal and will live on until the last record plays.

 

And to the Michael that I did not know, to Michael the man, the human being, somebody’s son, somebody’s brother, the father, the cousin, the uncle and friend that very few people knew, you will be missed in their hearts forever. 

Thank you for the music. 

God Bless you. 

Rest in Peace.

Good bye.

Gophercide - The Demise of The Richardson Ground Squirrel

From the "Best of..." Files

(This is from 2009.  About the lovable gopher... Go Gainer?)

Today I heard something disturbing.  Whilst I was on vacation last week, the Wascana Centre Authority "eliminated" some of the gopher population.  They blew gas into their tunnels.  Today they were filling the holes.  Gophercide is in progress.

Richardson Ground Squirrel is the proper name for the common Saskatchewan gopher.  The gopher is known to be a pest.  They eat the wheat, barley, oats and rye........... and weeds and grass and roadkills and grasshoppers and even carcases of their brethren (oops, we're not supposed to think about the good things. - wipe it from your brain.)  They make big holes in the ground that can cause people to trip or fall.   Horses and cattle can break their legs.  In urban areas, they will bore holes in sports areas and parks.  They've even been known to dig holes in cemeteries... how dare they!  No respect I tells ya.  Oddly, no complaints from the graveyard residents so I don't see the problem, but I digress.

So gophers are little devils, aren't they.  Just look at them. So cute as they race around the fields chasing each other.  They remind me of my three kitties who wrestle each other down to gain control of the feather-bell-ball thing.  I could sit and watch gophers all day. To me, they are adorable.  I experience a great deal of peace and relaxation, along with a couple laughs, while I watch them play.  After plenty of conversations I've had, I'm starting to think I'm alone... a lonely gopher watcher.

But alas, these little buggers are useless!  They just run around eating seeds, burrowing holes and pooping all day.  So, then... why did the good Lord bless us with these little gifts?  There must be a purpose.

Oh wait!!!!  

There is... but I'm sure it's not that big of a deal.  Who needs a water table anyway?  Water tables are highly over-rated.  Please sense the sarcasm here.

That purpose again? 

Hmmm let's see.  That dang gopher! 

It burrows holes and digs tunnels.  In essence, it is aerating the ground.  That's right, the same thing that you pay gardeners to do to your lawn, the mighty gopher will do free of charge.  The tunnels that the gophers dig become the railroad to the water table.  Rain and melted snow can easily flow through the tunnels deeper into the earth and seep into the water table easier than soaking through from the top soil. 

Speaking of soil, those dang gophers bring up subsoil to the surface and loosen the dirt beneath the top.  The subsoil contains trace minerals useful for the human body to LIVE!  These minerals are needed for oxygen transportation, growth, metabolism and help with hormones, enzymes, and so on and so on....

Those dang gophers... they are way too hospitable and allow for other small animals to share their dwellings.  Some animals just aren't able to dig holes and tunnels very well.  Unlike most humans, the gopher keeps it's front door open to guests of all kinds such as snakes, frogs, small reptiles, small birds, bunnies and the endangered burrowing owl.

Gophers are also prey to many predators such as wolves, coyotes, owls, falcons, hawks, eagles, bobcats, cougars and any other carnivore or omnivore on the prairies.  Since this is the primary diet for many of those, the elimination of the gopher will have detrimental effects on the ecosystems of those species.  (I can go on and on about the significances of each predator if needed but you'd fall asleep.  I lose more readers like that...)

Speaking of sleep, I'm sure some of you are nodding off already since this topic is so dang boring.  But boredom is strange.  The most boring thing, such as watching gophers play peek-a-boo in the field can be the most fun.  It can make you think of the significances of things - like the Richardson Ground Squirrel. 

Yes, gopher you are needed.  I don't want to imagine how the prairie environment would change with your extinction.  Yet, you are treated with cruelty, killed for you tails, and gassed out of your holes.  There is no way to please both sides.   My opinion? There needs to be more predators - which leads me to think that the food chain is whacked (another blog later maybe).



One last thought....

if the gopher is so evil, why is a gopher the mascot for our football team? 

Go Gainer??  ..



And that's my commentary for today.  Good night.

 

I Had a Bad Day! But it's all relative.

From "The Best of..." Files

 

(This is from 2009.  I needed a wake up call... otherwise known as a slap across the head, and God sent me the message.)

I had a bad day!   It was one of the worst!  The stress!  The people nitpicking!  “I want...!”  “I need...!” “Please do...!" was the extent of the one-way conversations I had with my coworkers.  I’m going to share my day with you because once you hear how bad my day was, it can only make your day seem great in comparison.  Everything’s relative, right?

 

The day started with my groggy eyes focusing on my alarm clock at ..7:50 am...  I was expected to be at work by ..8:00...  Oh well, I’m already late so I might as well enjoy the extra time.  It’s not like I can turn the clock back, right?

Off to the shower.  Wow!  How relaxing.  I stood there for what seemed like an hour experiencing the soothing massage of the warm water cascading over my body, the fresh scent of the soap and the calming inhalation of the steam enveloping me. In reality, it was only about five minutes. Stepping out of the shower, my hot body felt the seemingly frigid air from the open window. 

 

“Dang you!  How could you forget to close the window before jumping in the shower?!” I cursed myself.

 

I got to work a half hour late.  Unfortunately, Chaos showed up right on time at eight and started my day without me.  The rest of the day was a race to see who would win.  Would Chaos, the current champion, win the race to the finish line at 4:21?  Or would the up-and-coming challenger be able to catch up to the leader and surpass the current title holder by getting everything done today?  The race is on, and the winner is not going to lose all in this song, honey!

 

“10 O’clock..!  Coffee time,” my coffee posse announced.

“Coffee? Not bloody likely today.”

“Ahhh… c’mon,” my counterpart nagged.

 

“Screw off and leave me alone!  Can’t you see I have work to do?!  If you were any kind of a human being, you would unselfishly let your work go to heck and help me with mine!  But instead you run for coffee and your morning's dose of local gossip. What kind of team player are you?  A slack-assed one if you ask me!”
That’s what I wanted to say. I substituted it for a smiley response. “I’ll pass this time.”

 

What a bad day!

Does your day seem better yet? Everything’s relative right?

 

Lunch time wasn’t much better.  I knew I'd have to work through lunch.  I rushed to the cafeteria to get something in my belly to bring back to my desk.  After all, I hadn’t eaten yet.  Mmmm… Hawaiian Pizza rotating in the warmer.  I’ll try that.  It looks like it just got out of the oven.  The cheese stretched the length of his arm as Paul, the cook, pulled my piece out.  “I’ll have  it to go” I stated matter of factly.  I can’t wait to get into that.  I rushed back to the office with my fresh, hot pizza. 

 

Dangit!!  I left my keys in the office.  Knock, knock on the door.  Nobody answered. What the heck?!  Don’t tell me that even Chaos went for lunch.  A moment later, someone had mercy on me and let me in.  (Truth be told, she had to go to the bathroom and had to open the door to get out.  I took advantage of the timing.)  I sat at my desk with a mouth full of saliva craving the texture of the warm stringy cheese.

 

“Ok, let’s get to this pizza.”  After all this is the best thing that has happened to me so far today. I took a bite. Mmmmm… it is just as good as I thought it would be.  Suddenly, I inhaled a small crumb.  “Cough, cough, hack, hack.”  I needed water.  Ooops, forgot water.  I grabbed my keys and rushed back to the cafeteria to get some water.  I returned to my office as quickly as I could.  I was freaking hungry and a nibble of that pizza was just a cruel tease.

 

I sat back at my desk and opened the white styrofoam container which was keeping my pizza almost warm.  Took a bite.  Well, it’s not hot but it’s ok.  Anything is ok when you’re hungry, right?  As I ate, I kept working.  About 4 bites into my pizza, two people came to the locked door.  I have always wanted to put blinds on the window beside the door which gave onlookers and peeping-toms a wonderful view of me at work. I'm now regretting my procrastination with that.

 

“Click, click” I heard the door knob rattle.  I tried to just stay focused on my work hoping they would get the hint that it is lunchtime and we are closed.  Obviously, the sign in the middle of the door indicating that we were closed was not clear enough.  “Click, click, click”, yep, if you keep trying the door handle enough times, it’s bound to magically unlock.  Keep trying folks… I mean IDIOTS!

 

Since the onlookers could not seem get my attention with the clicking of the handle, they resorted to knocking on the window.  Well, I couldn’t just ignore them any longer or flip them the middle icon so I got up and opened the door.  After all, how long could this take? A minute?

Fifteen minutes later, I was able to finally convince them that they would have to come back after one to see the person who could help them.  She had gone for lunch I told them. (Take a freakin’ hint, punks!  I’m trying to eat too!)

 

I sat down to my ice cold pizza and water.  Mmm..?? mm?  Nah… I can’t even fake the satisfaction that I could have achieved if people would have left me alone.  I ate a few more bites and then I had to dispose of it.  The texture was like cold rubber on my tongue now.

 

What a bad day!

Does your day seem better yet? Everything’s relative right?

 

The afternoon continued with me and Chaos head to head.  People needing this, wanting that, and “if you can please do” this and that. To top it off, one of my partners was on holidays and I had to do her work too.  I still have reports to do from Monday and I'm expected to pick up her slack?  If I keep doing other people's work, I will never be able to go on vacation in two days.  (Ironic, huh?)

At coffee time, one of my colleagues brought cake for the team. What a nice jesture.  An excuse for everyone to comingle and avoid work. Actually, I was looking forward to a delicious piece of cake after my pizza foibles.  The bugger of it was that while everyone else in my department was celebrating the upcoming 29+ birthday of my dear friend, I was singled out to have to continue working again.  No freakin’ rest for the wicked… or me either it seemed.

 

Well, 4:21 hit and it seemed Chaos was still in the lead.  I’m not giving up without a fight!!  I pushed myself another 40 minutes until I could convince myself that I had beaten my animus foe.

 

What a bad day!

Does your day seem better yet? Everything’s relative right?

 

I went home.

 

“An adult and two children are in hospital Wednesday after a freak bolt of lightning struck them at a soccer field in Brampton…,” the headline reads.

 

“The death toll from a typhoon that hit region of Taiwan has risen to more than 100 overnight…,” the headline reads.

 

“Winnipeg mom of missing kids pleads for their return…,” the headline reads.
 

..              <silence>

 

…           <ponder>

 

………..?

 

Wow!  I had a great day today!  One of my best!  It all started when I accidentally got the rare opportunity to sleep in.  I awoke so refreshed and ready to take on the day!  It was going to be wonderful!

 

“Look out world!  Here I come!”

            Does your day seem better yet? Everything’s relative right?

My Space is My Private Space

From "The Best of..." files.

(This post was written in 2008 when I was trying out My Space... turns out My Space was a dud and I haven't gone on since.)

 

I haven't been on My Space for a long time.  I admit to being a Facebook frequenter who logs on now and then to see what my "friends" have been up to, or what's going on in the lives of others.   (How society has evolved that we log onto a computer instead of phoning or "dropping in" for coffee -  but that's another blog for another time.)

When I log onto Facebook, I'm not on more than a few seconds when I get a message from a "friend" who must have been watching their "online" list and waiting for someone as special as me to log in. 

I can imagine someone sitting in front of their computer, leaned forward a tad, hands beginning to tremble on the keyboard while their dry eyes are staring intently at the "online" statuses.  "Oh my Gosh! (or I'm sorry... OMG), will anyone log on that I chat with??  Oh please hurry already!  I need to talk to someone!!!!  Anyone!!!  I need to ask if they have a cow that they can give me for my farm (Farmville addicts know what I mean)!!  Mercy, how can I leave my desk and possibly miss the attention of someone... anyone... Oh Gosh!!!  I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE... aaaaaaaahhhh...."

Then I log in.

Sudden relief for my friend.  "Wheew!!  Finally!! Lynnette is online.  She will be sure to acknowledge my existence!!!"  so says my "friend" .. .. 

"Hey!"  I see on my monitor.

I "hey" back.  And some sort of usually meaningless chit-chat begins.

But, it's not just one "friend"... oh no!!  4,      5,      6... at once. 

Am I that damn popular?  Or are they that lonely?  If they got up out of that chair and explored the real world once in a while... ....   .... oh wait... again that's another blog... for another time.

Suddenly, after I've checked out my emails on FB, I suddenly have to go.  Now to disengage in the chit chat without being rude. "GTG. TTYL." serves that purpose.


Don't get me wrong, there are a handful of people that I do like chatting with, but they are the same people that I see regularly, either at work, or when we go for coffee, hang out at the spa, go shopping together.  Our chats are rather limited to "Want to go for coffee?" or "Can you believe who got voted off Survivor??  I'm never watching that again!!!" and my favorite: "blah blah blah".  Well, it's meaningless to most, but best friends can understand that language. 


So back to My Space.  I checked out My Space originally to see what the big deal about it was.  I tried to find folks I know but to no avail.  The truth is...  I am alone on here.

Nobody I know is on here.  And nobody knows me.  I am ALONE!

...??
..?

..  I AM ALONE ON HERE!!!  YAY!

This is the one place online where I do not know a soul, where I can write whatever I want and be as snide as I want to be.  I can be the "real" me without having to make sure my status isn't offending any "friends".  I don't have to worry about insulting my job for fear my boss will read it.  And I don't have to worry about my daughter and her friends misconstruing things I might post.

I don't have to feel awkward about logging in, dreading that my old high school boyfriend will say "hey", or reading about how my coworkers had a bad day because of the lady in the other office.

I can log in, I can write my thoughts, and ...

... and well... I can peek around at other people's sites... maybe?  but whose?

... Yes indeed... My Space is my alone space.  My private space.  My "I can be me" space.

I'm going to log in to My Space right now and just be "Lynnette"!

..................

..................
... Well, this is kind of boring.... 

..............

Oh shoot!!!   I just heard someone log into facebook!!!!!!

GTG.  TTYL.


(actually, I'm not that pathetic... I'm actually off to tuck my girl in and kiss her good night.  In my house, on my block with my family... in my space.)

.