When I Grow Up, I Wanna Be...
I am not anywhere near where I thought I was going to be at 30.
When I was young and foolish, I planned on being married to my Prince Charming by age 25. At 30, I would have just had my twin princes-in-waiting, giving me 3 charming boys in total and already planning on a 4th child: a princess this time. Professionally, I wanted to be a corporate lawyer (I don't even know what they do!?!) pulling in a mid-6 figure salary. And of course, I was going to own a while convertible Porsche 911 carriage and a brand new castle in the 'burbs.
Fairy Tale, indeed!!
Instead, I am a single contract worker with no car and a 6-year-old-misbehavin' dog and 100-year-old house. How did I get here?
It's funny how the littlest things will end up shaping your entire future. I never imagined I'd be working where I am in my wildest fantasies! I love it. I love what I do and the product we produce and love the entire process it takes to complete the product; but I never thought I'd be so lucky as to actually get to be a part of it
and get paid well to boot! I was brought up in one of those families where the parents tried to force their children to do well academically in order to obtain a vocation in a "real" profession. We were to be doctors or lawyers or engineers or accountants. We were allowed to dabble in the Arts, but never were we supposed to make a career out of it! My grade 3 teacher encouraged my mother, at the annual parent-teacher conference, to let me audition for the district's School for the Arts. My mother responded with a solid, resounding NO! They didn't concentrate enough on the academic subjects. "MAWWWWM! That's why it's a School for the Arts! Duh!" The only exception to that rule were those gifted few that were forced to take up an instrument at age 3 and would become child concert prodigies. I was
not one of those few.
I did pretty well in high school without really trying. In university, I majored in Political Science, as close as you can get to "pre-law" in Canada, and again got decent marks considering I hardley ever showed up. But, as I've said before, I burned out, dropped out and then my brother got me this summer job that blossomed into a full-time "profession." My parents, although dismayed, didn't yell at me as much as I thought they would when I decided not to go back to school. I think they thought it was a phase and I'd eventually go back. Or maybe my older siblings had already broken them in by becoming professional disappointments themselves. Whatever the case, they are fine with the decision now. Mainly because they know I'm making a fairly decent chunk of money, and being responsible with it (a.k.a. buying property on my own at the age of 27). They can't brag, "My daughter's a lawyer!" But they can say, "My daughter's entirely financially self-sufficient," and seem content in that knowledge. Actually, they are getting desperate for me to get married (preachin' to the choir!), but that's another post...Stratch that! I don't even want to think about that....
I don't really have a destination of thought here. It just struck me this morning (the things one thinks about in the shower!) that I am not living the life I ever imagined. It doesn't make me sad. It doesn't make me happy. It just is.
Retrospective Lowbrow
Men Are From Uranus
Ever watch that episode of "Seinfeld" guest starring Molly Shannon as the woman who doesn't bend her swinging arms when she walks? Some guys at Elaine's office are making fun of her and then when she joins in they're all, like, "Me-Ow!" Well, the writers were brilliant because they totally hit that stereotype/nail on the head!
Fact: men are totally clueless about women. Fact: women know about other types of women. So when I talk to a woman about how this other woman we know is the type that other women don't like because she is so obviously manipulative with men but they don't see it and fawn all over her, she totally gets what I'm talking about. But if I say the same thing to a typical man, they're all "Me-Ow!"
And if I try to explain to one of these men who are wrapped around this (let's call a spade a spade)
girl's finger what she is really up to, well, fuhgeddaboudit! Men are blind when it comes to women. If a woman puts her mind to it, in most situations, she can always have "hand" (another "Seinfeld" reference). Men are clueless and predictable. It isn't a coincidence that there are so many jokes made to this effect on television and in the movies. Heck, "Everybody Loves Raymond" just ended a successful 9 year run on this one running joke alone! (And yes, I cried during the series finale last night! I'm really a cheeseball inside this iron mace exterior!)
However, as you know, I am trying to
grow as a person, and not let what this girl does bother me so much. It doesn't really effect my life one way or another. More than anything, what is truly bothering me is not being able to figure out why it bothers me so much! Maybe it's because I see these types of girls (because regardless of age they still have a lot of maturing to do - [shout out gil!]) get so much undeserving attention from the male species. They play the victim and guys rush to play the hero; like moths to a flame. So where does that leave a strong-minded, self-sufficient, independant woman like me?
I think I've always known that it would take a rare and special man to be willing to take a chance on me. My close friends know this about me as well, which is why I'm not the first person they think of when they meet a single man who is willing to get set up. It's just that when it comes to finding/waiting for this man, I'm starting to lose my patience!! Which in turn, I know, will make me into a woman that will require an even rarer and special-er man. Awww CRAP!
I was just "joking mad" with the "If You Can't Do, Teach / Preach / Critique-ch" entry, but stuff like this makes me seriously hot under the High
brow
collar!
OMG!
I was scrolling down my most recent entries and I realized that greenT thought "She's So Perky" was about my dog Flower. It's sooooo NOT! It's about this very perky (and thus, very annoying) woman at work who had just walked past me with a very perky (and thus, very annoying) "Hi!" The can of Fresca was sitting on my desk and I had an urge to just pick it up and smack her on the head with it. It just happened to have happened after I posted a photo of my cute puppy. It was just a case of unfortunate placement of thoughts!
I would
NEVER hit Flower with a can of Fresca! Or Diet Coke! Or even Cream Soda!!!
I could never sink
that Low
brow
If You Can't Do, Teach / Preach / Critique-ch
It's my blog, yes? No one can dispute that. How can they when I am the only one with the password to access this account?
So why do people feel the necessity to tell me when or what I should post on
my web log? On what are
my personal thoughts and feelings. And why can't you just let me be
happy once in a while?!
I'm sorry I'm disappointing y'all with my lack of entries or with the content thereof. No, wait, I'm
NOT sorry! If I want to write about what my neuroses are, that's my business! If I want to bitch about my bitch, again, that's my business! If I want to tell you that I'm hot for some fictional tv character, well, that's my freakin' bid'ness!!!
I don't give a shite what you think is interesting and what you don't. I'm
trying to share a little bit about myself with the world. Which parts I share are up to me. Not YOU. Enjoying? Read it. Not enjoying? Don't read it. I don't do this to please the masses. I do this to help clear my mind, to pass the time, to relieve some stress, to put some of MY stuff into MY perspective. I've invited you into my mind, but you have no say in what I do or do not think. That's the beauty of this being
MY blog.
So please, do me a favour and stop forcing "frequent" and "interesting" or "angry" entries out of me because upon reflection, those have been my worst ones. I'll post what and when I damn well please!
(There JapaneseT, was that kinda more on the lines of what you were thinking? Here's lookin' at you kid!)
Hotbrow!
Last One, I Swear!
"...and some people with OCD also have eating disorders." ~ NIMH (National Institute of Mental Health - now bookmarked as a "favourite" in my browser)
That leads me to my final self-diagnoses:
Binge-Eating Disorder. Actually, this was my first self-diagnosed pychological disorder. I was in middle school when I realized I was what they used to call "Complusive Overeater."
I'm Out!
There's still an hour and a half left in my work day, but I'm through with this random thought business.
She's So Perky
I just wanted to pick up my can of Fresca and smash it into her head! Relax! I'm just kidding! Maybe....
Awww! Isn't she soooo CUTE! Wasaga Beach is whiter than I thought it would be. I haven't been there since I was a child. All she ever wants is to be off the leash. Alas, there was a No Dogs Allowed sign.
Babs
Miss Cleo is NUTS! But don't worry, I'll know "with what" by the end of this week.
Lucky Number
Have I only had 25 original thoughts today? Actually, I had another whilst I was walking back from the main office, but it slipped though the sieve that is my mind. Thanks Adult ADD!
Mmmmmmmm...
Piiiiiizza....I'm
so in the mood for pizza.
Adult Acne
I have to stop touching my face.
Hot! Hot! Hot!
I luff House! I just push him up against a wall and take him right there!
I'm, Like, A Little Psychic, Eh
I don't know what possessed me, but I just checked the underarm seam of my sweater and found a small hole!
Circular Equation
I was just trying to think of what I was thinking of, but that's all I was thinking.
Huh?
Why is there a package of floss in the office kitchen's junkfood cupboard? Ewww....Is there someone who is flossing at the kitchen sink with all their plaque flying out of their mouth and onto the counter?
Where Has All The Time Gone?
These random thought posts are taking up too much of my time. I should have done this tomorrow because I probably won't have anything to do tomorrow. It's a weekly report that I'm trying to finish between posts.
Lame With An Accent Ague
I want this pair of gold lame (I don't know how to add the accent) slides from this small independant shop. The first time I saw them the girl working there said they only had sizes 7 & 10 (I'm an 8). I've been back twice since then and asked whoever's been working just to see if maybe they are lying or just mistaken.
Frequency. Urgency.
I have to pee often. But sometimes I "forget" (put it off). Then all of a sudden I
REALLY have to go
BAD! Now is one of those times.
I Know It's Stupid, But...
Sometimes I think I'm addicted to secondhand smoke. Sometimes I think I like the smell of it.
Quasimodo
As you know, I have self-diagnosed (which I'm fond of doing) myself with plantar fasciitis in my right foot. But I continue to wear shoes with no support whatsoever, so I limp around the office. My back is curved as well. So I slouch and kinda lean to my right. I look like The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
If I Had To Lose One Of My 5 Senses, It Would Be
Smell. I think it's pretty messed up anyway. Actually, it's not working well with Taste because I have a really poor sense of Taste. I once thought a strawberry mousse cake was maple walnut.... I don't know, so don't ask! I like coffee, but don't really like the scent.
Schmorgasborg (Sp?)
Lunch was gross. Lunch has been gross for about 3 weeks now. For the little I've been eating at lunch lately, I should be losing at least a trace amount of body fat. I'm not.
Sins Of The Mother
I didn't realize until a few years ago that my mother is extremely sarcastic. I think she probably used to keep it in check due to old-world thought on how polite young women should present themselves. But since menopause she's thrown those ideas out the window. She is now the woman she used to suppress. In grade 10 this girl wrote in my yearbook, "You are the most sarcastic person I know." I didn't even know I was sarcastic until that moment. My brother is also very sarcastic. Now I know where we get it from.
Chandler
I use humor as a defense mechanism. I also use it to keep an emotional distance from others.
Bring It On
Weird. My sister taught herself how to baton. I don't know if my parents bought her the baton or she asked for it. She was not a cheerleader or pageanteer. I am six years her junior. My parents bought me a mini-baton. It was about 5/8 the size of a normal baton with extra large ball and tips. The only baton-ing she ever did was in the basement to the Elvis song.
Rockabilly
Part 1 of the Elvis bio-pic was on CBS last night. I love Elvis. I have ever since I can remember. My father used to have 2 Elvis LPs that he bought through mail-order in the 70s. We used to listen to them all the time. My sister even had developed a baton routine to "Burnin' Love." At least I think it was "Burnin' Love"...or else it was whatever was on the b-side. I'm glad they decided to have Jonathan Rhys-Meyers lipsync. No matter how hard one tries, no one sounds like the King. I can't wait until Part 2.
Clockwatcher
It's only 10:01AM and I've already begun watching the clock. 105hrs:27mins until the weekend. I have to complete a departmental cost tracking report by noon, but continue to procrastinate via blog and email with Miss Cleo.
I'll Be There For You
My friend Swan and her boyfriend, Kevin, remind me of Ross & Rachel from "Friends." "Friends" is my all time favourite sit-com and one of my all around favourite shows. I had pre-ordered the Complete 9th Season on DVD, but in order to get free shipping I've ordered Amazon to send it with the 6th Harry Potter book which I have also pre-ordered. It is still 40% off cover price if anyone is interested.
Google That
Btw: if you want an invite to gmail, just let me know. I have 50 of them.
Google This
Gmail is slow this morning. I now get over 2GB of space and 50 invites. Why don't they just take it off beta and open it to the public?
I Am No Tiger
Golf is
not my game. Although, the 7 iron is my favourite club. Actual golf club, not discotheque.
3 More Letters
I also exhibit behaviour consistant with
Adult Attention Dificit Disorder (ADD).
Not-So-Deep Thoughts By High Brow
Taking my inspiration from
Jack Handy, I'm going to post random thoughts throughout the day.
Letters Up The Ying-Yang!
Just looked up
Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and I gots a little of that too! Aw, Crap!
BPD and OCD, just no BA. I know what you must be thinking...My parents must be so proud!
Twitchybrow
I NEED TO FART!
That's it.
Pure Lowbrow!
What Do You See In Your Crystal Ball?
Miss Cleo (aka JS and Don't be Hatin') is having hair issues. For the last two weeks she's been emailing with bi-daily updates as to the status of her hair. She claims age is making her hair feel greasier than usual. Initially I agreed, but upon recollection of
Inner Science Shampoo commercials, I remembered that age is supposed to have the opposite effect on hair. Hair loses moisture as we get older.
I guess she's been telling me this because I have the "hair gene." Problem is, I have pretty nice hair so I cannot sympathize with her plight. She wills me to understand the torture she is experiencing while she attempts to live life with greasy hair, but alas, I cannot. Mind you, Miss Cleo is known to observe things about her appearance that the rest of society is blind to. We all do this, but Miss Cleo may stress out about it more than the average person. Even to my "trained" eye, her hair looks silky and shiny which is all signs of healthy hair. "You just don't understand," she wails.
I've been trying to be as patient I can possibly be (which is not very) and guide her through the product aisle at the beauty supply store. However, like a kid in a candy store, she bought a mish-mash of product that is probably adding to the problem. Als0, I suggested she shampoo her hair less often. If you can make it past the initial greasy hump, where your scalp continues to produce the same amount of oil it needed to when you were washing everyday, it will learn to adapt. Many haircare experts, models, celebrities, etc. (people who style or get styled frequently but still have gorgeous hair) have endorsed using as little shampoo as possible. I suggested that when she take a shower and her hair feels like it needs to be cleansed, she should wash her hair with water. You'd be surprised at how much of the grease and grim is rinsed away just with tap water. Run your fingers through your hair and scalp, as if using shampoo, and then rinse with cool water. Note: when you condition, you should always rinse out the conditioner with cool water - the coldness closes the hair shaft, keeping in the moisturizers. Miss Cleo slowed down the frequency of shampooing for about a week before she gave in and reverted back to washing daily. "My hair got too greasy!" I tried to tell her that, this too shall pass. But alas, again, she wouldn't listen to my sage advise.
I just wanted to congratulate Miss Cleo today! She finally took a little bit of my advise and her hair is feeling better than it has in weeks! (I know, serious eye-roll! Whatev....) I foresee that her hair's future will be fine with time. All she has to do is what she always says, but
never adheres to, "Never doubt the Brow!"
I prefer High
brow
ponytails to Low
brow
ones.
Girl Interrupted
I was telling a co-worker about my "black period" during university. How I had student burn-out, which I totally thought was a crock, that is until I diagnosed myself. How I withdrew and took myself out of society. She asked me if I had experienced Depression. I said I thought, in retrospect, that yes, I was probably slightly Depressed but did not know it at the time. She said, "Maybe you are Manic-Depressive." I said, "I am definitely not Manic."
Then jokingly I said that maybe I had what Winona Ryder's character had in "
Girl Interrupted" (a movie based on a book based on a true story).
Borderline Personality Disorder. So I looked it up and sent the link to 2 of my co-workers. They laughed (a little too hard) at the similarities to my
preceived personality. Where they got this idea of me, I have no idea....
I'm surprised my defense structure hasn't crumbled down Low
brow
to the ground yet....
Post Script
If you want to find out what your birth order personality (v. your actual birth order), and you have 2.5 minutes (depending on the speed of your computer and internet service provider) you can take this stupid quiz:
What's Your Birth Order Personality?I'm not sure why they posted a photo of Oprah at the start of the quiz. Odd. Maybe Dr. Phil....
It told me I've got the troubled middle child syndrome....
That's totally
Lowbrow!
Mommy & Daddy Are Fighting Again
I really don't like it when people have heated arguments in front of me. I know, it makes everyone in the room not participating in the fight uncomfortable, but it goes beyond that for me.
Maybe it's part of "youngest child syndrome," when my parents or siblings or both fought I would go to bed, cover my ears with my pillows and arms and will myself to sleep. I felt powerless so I would dive into denial. Oops! Looking it up, apparently the youngest child is traditionally the peacekeeper. Well, that wasn't me. I learned to sleep (or pretend to sleep) through just about anything. I would retreat into my imagination and remain until the sun rose and the coast was clear. It actually developed into a real problem for a while. Up until about 7 years ago, I would sleep through my alarm clock, ringing telephone, etc. I had learned to completely ignore outside noises while I slept. Unfortunately, I am now a fairly light sleeper and have not had a long deep sleep in years....
Anyway, back to my story. A discussion in my department between the two heads quickly escalated into a very loud and heated argument. First I felt extreme discomfort and I had an almost uncontrolable urge to leave the room. However, that wasn't an option because they were arguing over something in my jurisdiction. Instinct had me begin to block them out and I continued writing the e-mail I had begun, yet, denial was not an option either as I was pulled into the "discussion." Well, the issue has been temporarily been settled and everyone is still the best of friends. I know people were just getting worked up in general (there have been some schedule changes and working late nights) and the anger was not directed at me specifically. Still, I did not enjoy being pulled into into a situation I could do naught about.
Maybe that is partially why I am a control freak. I need to be in full command of the things I can control because I cannot emotionally handle things beyond it.
Fraught with a nervous engery High
brow
Enquiring Minds Want To Know?
In case anyone was wondering, my bother and sister-in-law got me a liquid metal mesh bracelet. You can click
here to see what I'm talking about. It turns out she was going to get me a bracelet even before I asked for one! People always surprise me when I discover they know me better than I thought they did.
By the way, this counts for friday's missed entry as far as I'm concerned!
*Fancy* jewelry is very High
brow
Honey, Not Tonight...I'm Too Tired...
Whenever someone I have newly befriended invites me out I find myself panicked and immediately trying to come up with some kind of excuse not to accept. It's not that I don't want to become closer to the person in question, or that I don't enjoy sometimes getting out and having a good time, but I have a strong natural instinct to be anti-social.
Case in point, I was invited to my co-worker's housewarming party. When she first told me about it and sent the
evite, I was genuinely excited to go. I am friends with her live-in boyfriend, and now consider her a friend as well even though we only began working together a couple of months ago. I was aware that many of my past and present co-workers would be attending, so I knew that I wouldn't be standing alone in a corner of the room, nursing a drink, pretending to be waiting for someone. (Don't laugh! That's been known to happen!) I'm not a "smalltalker" so usually I don't go to parties where I know I will not know anyone besides the host. I avoid them at all costs! But I digress (as usual)....
When the day came, however, I spent the early-afternoon with a close friend that I had not seen in a while, catching up and having a belated birthday celebration over brunch. Afterwards, I could have easily popped by the party. It was one of those all-day open house types, and I had even arranged to meet another co-worker there in the early evening. Perfect timing! BUUUT, I had already decided I did not feel like socializing. I did not feel like drinking and pretending to be interested in what others had to say just for the sake of showing my face. And I find when I do force myself to go, I end up looking at my watch as soon as I get there and figure out how soon I can leave without being rude. Gil - short of sickness, I always attend your parties - even if I have these negative thoughts - b/c I luff you! So don't hate me for what I cannot control!!! Truth be told, sometimes I don't even want to go to parties hosted by my girlz! I'm simply anti-social. I wasn't like this when I was younger. It something that stuck from my "black period." I did this 180 in university. I went from a "Ontario Scholar" to a university drop-out; and I was a high school student council president that became borderline
misanthropic! (Like my hero "
House"!!)
So instead of keeping my commitment, I drove waaaay uptown (heh heh) to my girlfriend's place and looked at the photos from NYC, and I don't regret that choice for a second! We were crying so hard from the laughter that we had to look through the photos for a second time because we didn't see them all during the first attempt! Nonetheless, I feel a little bad for not keeping my word. Especially when the co-worker I had arranged to meet said, "I was waiting. Where were you?" this morning....
I felt two inches Low
brow
