What do God, The Robot, and Lindsay Lohan have in common?

Was digging through some emails the other day at work and found this lovely chain between me and a couple of friends. These people seriously keep me sane some days.

(Names changed to genderless names to protect the (not so) innocent. I don’t think there’s anything in this to give anyone away, but if you are Nic, Chris, Taylor, or Terry and don’t want this posted publicly, just email me – I’ll take it down!)

Chris: Saw this church sign on the way to work “He who answers you Controls you.” WTF??

Nic: He who answers you controls you. That is…I’m not sure what that is. So if I answer my boss, does that mean I control her? Ha – that’s humorous.

Chris: My first thought: “So they’re finally admitting that the invention of religion and God is just to control the masses!” Probably not what they had in mind with that…

Taylor: Since I’m answering this e-mail, does that now mean I Control you? I’m concentrating on you doing the robot right now. Let me know if it worked.

Chris: I just got the strangest urge to pop & lock.

Terry: What constitutes an answer? A burning bush?

Chris: What does Lindsay Lohan have to do with any of this?

Terry: NICE! It doesn’t have anything to do with Amy Winehouse either for that matter.

Chris: Hee hee. I’m trying so hard not to giggle that my eyes are watering.

My life’s okay

Blog post in haiku:

My life’s okay,

Have Job, Home, Food, Health, Friends –

It could be worse.

Seriously. I realize that there are people far worse off than I am, and that my problems and issues don’t add up to spoonful of the heaping mess that some people deal with.

I’m employed, and have money in the bank, and can pay my bills and have some spending money. I own my own home, and don’t have to worry about where my next meal is going to come from.

I’m college educated, have reliable transportation, electricity and running water.

I am healthy, disease free, with no real physical or mental limitations.

I’ve never had a man hit me. I’ve never had to deal with date rape or unwanted pregnancy or a psycho stalker. I’ve never had to deal with divorce and custody battles and child support. I’ve never had to deal with the death of a child.

I have a loving family that I get along with quite well. I have friends who care about me, who would (and have) jump in their car in the middle of the night to rescue me from the side of the road, who would offer me a place to stay and food and clothes off their back if I needed it.

I know all this. Which is why I feel really bad when I have my “Woe is Me” moments. Oh, boohoo, I can’t afford a trip to Europe. Oh, boohoo, I can’t afford a new car. Oh, boohoo, my boyfriend cheated on me and dumped me (although, does it count as being dumped if he just disappeared?). Oh, boohoo, I don’t get to go out to eat as often as I would like. Oh, boohoo, some days I don’t like my job very much. Oh, boohoo, I can’t run 3 miles in 30 minutes.

Boo-freaking-hoo.

I get it.

Doesn’t mean I don’t want things to be better.

The head can say it all day long, yell and scream and shout through a bullhorn, but the heart, the soul, the core of you doesn’t always listen, or pay attention to reason.

Sucks, don’t it?

What do you boohoo about, even though you know it could be worse?

Dating in the Workplace

In general, I think that dating in the workplace is a bad idea. A very bad idea. That’s not to say I haven’t done it – I have. But I haven’t done it in over ten years now. Because when things go bad, they can go really bad.

Where I work, there are many, many couples. Just within my department, I can count 12 people off the top of my head who are married to or dating someone else within the company.

I’ve used the “I don’t date people I work with” excuse multiple times in the past. It’s a handy excuse, especially for when you simply are not interested in the person. Earlier this year, I found out this very, very sweet man I work with was interested in me. He’s a very nice guy, and he’s not unattractive, but I was simply not interested. I kept giving my “I don’t date people I work with” excuse. He was nice and understood.

Recently, I’ve started getting to know this other guy. We kept running into each other in the hall, and he kept looking at me like he knew me, and we would exchange pleasantries. Then, a couple of weeks ago, he emailed me (I had left a note on the soda machine that it ate my money, and he was commenting on that), and we’ve been emailing each other about once a day since then, just random chit chat, getting to know each other.

I don’t know if he’s flirting or just being friendly. I asked one of my coworkers about it, and she said he’s just really nice and is just being friendly. I had another coworker read a couple of the emails, and she thinks he’s flirting.

The other day, he said that maybe we could go grab some lunch one day after he gets back from his business trip next week.

Um…

It’s so silly, because if this were a woman, I wouldn’t think twice about it, and neither would anyone else in the company. But because it’s a man, I have to wonder if this is “just coworkers having lunch,” or if it’s a date. And, regardless of what it is, gossip at work would definitely be of the more lascivious version.

All that being said…I could see the possibility of me being interested in this guy. I’m not sure why – he’s totally not my type. But there’s something about him. Some sort of pull, from before I even knew his name, from just those hallway smiles and hellos.

So if this has been him flirting, and if this lunch is more date-like, what am I going to do about it? I still don’t think dating in the workplace is a good idea, even though he and I never deal with each other.

How about this for an idea: I stop f-ing thinking about it and not worry about it until it actually happens, which it very well may not. That’s me, always thinking too far ahead and trying to sort it out in my head before it even happens. What’s the phrase? Borrowing trouble?

What about you – What are your views on workplace relationships? And, any advice on dealing with this guy if he has, in fact, been flirting?

Blog post in Haiku:

Your opinion: 

Dating in the workplace- 

Good idea or bad?

You can get cobwebs down there, you know

Damn it, I’ve been meaning to write a blog post about this for several weeks now, and The Single Filez beat me to it! (She also wrote a post about interracial dating, which I’ve been meaning to write about…it’s like she’s reading my mind….)

I don’t know how many TV shows and movies I’ve watched where, when talking about sex, someone says they haven’t had it in a certain amount of time, and everyone else is shocked that it’s been that long.

Usually, the time period is something like 6 months.

“Oh my god, you haven’t had sex in 6 months? You can get cobwebs down there, you know!”

Really???? 6 months is a long time to go? Jeez, I’ve gone far, far longer than that before. I know I’ve gone over 2 years before, more than once, and I may have broken the three year mark in the past. Now THAT is a long time.  Might even qualify as born again.

Let’s see, it’s been right at 7 months for me this time. Do I want to “dampen the drought?” Well, of course I do. But I, like The Single Filez, have a hard time just jumping in bed with any random guy I meet. Sex means something more to me than just sex. I need an emotional connection.

That’s not to say I haven’t tried the Friends with Benefits angle before. I have. Or, at least, I’ve thought about it and gotten close to it. But when it comes down to it, I just can’t bring myself to do it. It just doesn’t feel right to me. It’s not as satisfactory as it would be with That Someone Special. Because for me, Good Sex isn’t just about (for lack of a better term) scratching that itch. It’s about the emotional release, as well, the endorphin high, and I simply can’t have that with someone I don’t at least care about in a romantic way, even if I don’t actually love that person yet.

The only exception to that, for me, is Sex with an Ex. An ex that you’re still on good terms with, you’re still friends. You know each other, “been there, done that,” but that comfort level is there, the affection. Someone you broke up with simply because you were more “friend-like,” because you loved each other, but you weren’t “in love.”

Of course, that can also backfire. If you’re so friendly you’re more like brother/sister…yeah, not so much. *shudder*

How long is your longest dry spell?

Blog post in Haiku: 

Sexual dry spell: 

When cobwebs start to grow 

in private places.

Certifiable – Edited Version

I had a bit of a rough weekend. Not sure why.

A year ago I was in Tahoe for my friends wedding. My boyfriend was supposed to be with me, but he had to turn around and fly home because his uncle died. I wouldn’t find out until 6 months later that his uncle hadn’t actually died, and he actually had to fly home because his other girlfriend found out. I still don’t know what she found out – if she found out that he was in Tahoe, or that he was with me. I guess it doesn’t really matter.

A lot of things don’t really matter, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think about them, or dwell on them at times.

This weekend was one of those weekends where I didn’t want to do anything. I spent a lot of time staring blankly at the walls, burning my eyes out playing solitaire, or blindly staring at the computer screen. Saturday I did get out, grocery store, used bookstore, took some stuff to Goodwill. Sunday…well, I kept trying to get myself to get up and go somewhere, but I just couldn’t do it. My mind was both numb and active at the same time, shuffling through scenes and conversations.

And…

Well, here’s the part that’s edited out.  I can’t say the rest online, lest someone call the looney bin on me.

Still having a rough time of it today, but don’t call the psych ward on me yet. I’ll be fine. I’ll get out of this funk. I’m just…

Really lonely.

The Middle

Yes, I know I already have a post entitled “The Middle.”  This is a different kind of post, and it’s really the only title it could have.

Hope Floats was on today, and I flipped it on just for some noise in the background.  And that’s when I remembered how much I love this movie.  I seem to love it even more every time I watch it.  I remember the first time I saw it, I cried the most when Bernice’s dad drove away from her, crying her heart out for him to take her with him.  But now, the part that kills me the most is when Birdee goes to visit her dad, and he has Alzheimer’s, and she’s just talking to him, and then they start dancing.  Tears.

My favorite part, though, is at the very end.  Sandra Bullock does a voiceover:

Beginnings are scary, endings are usually sad, but it’s the middle that counts the most.  You need to remember that when you find yourself at the beginning.  Just give hope a chance to float up.

It’s funny, because that’s almost in direct opposition to one of my current favorite songs, “The Middle,” by Jimmy Eat World.  The song is more about getting through the middle, rather than reveling in it.

It just takes some time,

Little girl, you’re in the middle of the ride.

Everything, everything will be just fine,

Everything, everything will be all right.

 

So, which is it?  Is The Middle the best part, or the worst part?  Is it something to savor, or something to endure?

I suppose it depends on what you’re in the middle of. 

Possibilities DO have an end

Just a quick update on the Possibly Good Man Sly.

I’m sure he is a good man. But the possibility of good times has come to an end.

After our first date, he was out of town for a week, then had family in town for a week, then broke his toe the day before we planned to go out, which led him to cancel our second date. Ever the understanding person I am, I was nonetheless…peeved. Silently, of course.

We finally had our second date more than three weeks after our first. Met at a lovely little French bakery in town and had some good food and deserts. About an hour in, as we sat there talking, I couldn’t help feeling like he felt…uncomfortable around me. Our conversation was going as well as it had the first time, and I felt comfortable, but I kept feeling like his side was a bit forced.

Not more than a minute after I told myself I was imagining things, he gave me this look, and kind of shook his head.

“What?” I asked.

“I just always feel so formal around you.”

Um…okay.

I was wearing capri’s and flip flops – just as casual as I had been dressed on our first date. In fact, I was having a wardrobe crisis while getting dressed, because I wanted to dress nicer, but where we were going wasn’t exactly a “dressy” kind of place, and I didn’t want to seem like I was “dressing up.” Anyway, the point is, how formal can you be in flip flops?!

I asked why he felt that way. He didn’t know, figured it was because we were “always eating,” and if we were doing an activity, he didn’t think he would feel that way. (Side question – How can we be “always eating” if we’ve only seen each other twice? The term “always” cannot be used until at least the third date, IMO.)

I asked if there was anything I could do to make him feel less formal. “Would you like me to dump my soup on my shirt, would that make it seem less formal?”

After that exchange, we ended up talking for another 4 hours. So, obviously, we get along well enough.

When we left, I said, “We should do an activity next time.” He nodded and said he would come up with something.

I didn’t hear from him.

However, in a moment of weakness, I invited him to join me and a friend for Pops in the Park and fireworks the following weekend.

It was painful. Extremely painful. Hours and hours of trying to come up with something to say, and he really was of no help in that regard. Thank goodness for the symphony and fireworks, so I could appear enthralled in them.

My friend, the one who works with him, is worried that she “set me up with a dud.” That’s not necessarily it – he’s a nice guy, very intelligent. Our personalities just weren’t right for each other.

C’est La Vie.

Bottom Up!

When reading through a list of things, like a menu, how do you read it?  For example:

I think most people generally read lists from the top down. 

I don’t.  I start at the bottom.

I don’t know why.  I don’t know when I started doing that – within the last 5-8 years, I think.

I can’t seem to focus if I read top down.  It’s all just noise, and I end up getting about halfway down the list and I can’t remember anything of what I’ve read.

You may have heard that one trick to proofreading your own writing is to read it backwards.  If you read it as you normally would, your brain fills in words and leaps ahead, because it already knows it.  But if you read it backwards, you’re more likely to catch spelling and grammar errors, or realize that a word is missing. 

I kind of wonder if that’s why I read bottom up.  Maybe my brain knows I don’t focus well reading top down, so I unconsciously don’t read that way. 

In the case of multiple columns, I’m royally screwed.  My eyes bounce around like I’m watching a ball in a pinball machine, reading the top two of one list, bottom three of another, one in the middle of yet another list.

 

Maybe I’m developing Adult ADD.  

Does anyone else read lists this way?  Or am I just weird?  Thoughts?

I have an idea

An idea I find intriguing.  An idea that could be very good.

Or potentially very, very bad. 

It could also be very fun.

Eye opening.

Horizon expanding.

Good for me.

Possibly very, very bad for me.

Doing research now.  More to come soon.  Until then…

Anyone want to take a guess on what the idea is?  Most outlandish wins!  (See tags for guidance.)

I wish he HAD been imaginary

My friend had bought me something for Christmas, but then at the last minute put it away. Probably a good thing she did, as it would not have gone over well at the time. She found it recently and gave it to me last weekend, hoping I would get a good laugh out of it, now, now that things are behind me. And she was right – I laughed. It really is funny:

Of course, there’s an entire back story behind this bumper sticker. Some…stuff…went down last September, with someone I considered a friend. It involved The Pilot. I wrote up a whole blog post, and passed it by The Pilot. Since it heavily involved him, I wanted to get his thoughts, and his okay to post it. He asked me not to post it, he just wanted to forget about it and move on. I accepted that, and posted it privately, with this note: “The Pilot is not happy with my posting this post, so I won’t post it…publicly.”

Of course, things have changed. I know now that The Pilot didn’t want me to blog about it because it was true. Because then his lies would sit there, online, for the world to see.

I’m reposting the blog post, publicly, and I’m sure everyone will get a good laugh out of some of the things I said. This post is unedited, and shows just how f&$#ing stupid I was. Re-reading it for the first time since everything went down, I simply can’t believe how trusting I was. You can view the post here.

Anyway, the big joke at the time, with the very few people who knew about this story, was that I had made The Pilot up, that he was my “imaginary boyfriend.” Oh, how I wish that were true. Would have saved me a lot of heartache (and embarrassment) in the end.