Tremendous Blondette

A phenomena that I’ve observed since adulthood – things I would say, do, or feel are different based on the time of day. I don’t wake up wanting to go to happy hour in the evening. I feel like sitting in my big red chair with coffee and my laptop until my own odor motivates me to bathe.

What I write in a post is different based on the time of day and I often work on a post several times before I actually publish it so it gets some of the morning me and nighttime me. Balance, just for you. *wink*

I am much more forthright at night or after half a pot of coffee. (or 10 drinks) I’ve discovered an inability to share specific thoughts and feelings only in certain situations. Work and family – you got it. Friends and “friends” – there is a hesitation at times – a fear.

That same shield I use in those relationships covers this blog. I could write with greater directness and clarity at times, but to what end?

When I was 10, 12, 18, who knows at this point, I used to soak up the sunshine with CMT or the radio and just absorb the time. Today, as I work through all of the clothing and linens I own (Day 2!) it’s the same feeling – years later, my gut hurts, my lungs twitch, and my eyes water. Looking through my cousin’s pictures on Facebook, seeing her life and knowing the somewhat normal path she will have puts me in a little bit of a funk.

One of my biggest hangups in life, the one for which I’m still stuck, is the normalcy the “how did I deviate from that?” Why not me? I tried to catch up very quickly in college and succeeded in only superficial ways. It wasn’t what I wanted. It wasn’t what I needed. And then I gave up. I lost hope. And the I regained it…and lost it. I continue to live this cycle.

I’m letting the sun into my bedroom and I look out and see a man running and something inside kicks. (no, I’m not pregnant) I try too hard to make things happen. To make them what I picture. To make them what I see around me.

On a good note, I’m organizing and purging so I’m not hanging on to old things. But what do you do when there’s old stuff you want to hang on to? Stuff you shouldn’t. Stuff you should put down in peace.

At what point do we both feel and express our emotions – fully, deeply – and at what point do we let our rational thought quell the emotional bits? When is it okay to feel and act without restraint? And if we never let ourselves feel or act, do we cheat ourselves and keep spinning, a blur of hope, joy, love, fear, anger, disappointment and sadness?

QBQ! The Question Behind the Question: Practicing Personal Accountability in Work and in Life by John G. Miller

My rating: 4 of 5 stars
My company used to have a book club in which the entire staff participated. Prior to my becoming a full time employee with the company and being included in this activity, they read “QBQ!” The book continues to be referenced by executive management and our Account Service Department is reading the book together. Well, I couldn’t be left out, so I had to buy it and read it for myself. I learned a few of the principles in this book though my own failings earlier in life (okay, within the last 12 years) and truly believe in the power of personal accountability. I take away an even greater depth to some of the basics I’ve already embraced and something I can share as I coach my team at work. No, I can’t change them, but I can share this book. Favorites for me: you always have a choice (I’ve been saying this for years.) Stress is a choice. Think in “I” terms not them. Do not adopt victim mentality. It’s energizing to read a book and flip your thinking.

View all my reviews >>

The cooler weather has brought with it  the static value of my open bedroom window. The bedroom window is the only window that can be opened more than 1.5 inches due to torn screens and curious cats. (if they get through the screen in the bedroom they’ll just end up on the balcony. When they get out through the living room, they’re on a 2 inch cement “ledge” 2 stories up- yes, this has happened and yes, I freaked out both times.)

Now, let me provide you with some geography and logistical data: my building faces another building; balcony to balcony with a slight elevation difference making my second story bedroom line up with the first floor units in the facing building. My bed is in front of my window to take the best advantage of the breeze. If I lie in bed, I can stare directly at the building across the way.

The occupants of the 1st floor unit, and their compatriots, (I actually have no idea who lives there to be honest- it’s a one bedroom apartment and there’s always multiple people there! in fact, it’s a junior one bedroom which means it has a really small living room with no dining area) like to sit/stand outside to smoke, chat, and drink at night. They usually don’t start until after 10pm and don’t stop until some time after I’ve drifted off to sleep (I’m always asleep before 1am, usually more like 11pm.) Hmm, maybe they’re vampires. No wait, they’re just early twenty-somethings.

So there I am, in bed with a trashy book, and I keep getting distracted by the proximity of live people saying dumb things. Obviously, I had to grab my Blackberry and get the UberTwitter up and running (okay, so, maybe, just maybe I already had my phone and was already on Twitter)

I judge them. I do. They are all early twenties where they are still forming who they are going to be and still screwing and screwing up at random because it’s not “real” yet and I’m in a different phase of my twenties, the-countdown-to-thirty twenties. I moved into this phase when I turned 28. I saw my 30th birthday on a calendar and realized it was sooner rather than later, and of course, my brother actually turned 30 which means I’m not far behind. I’m in the “holy shit when did I become an adult!?” part of my twenties. Today I actually cleaned for no reason other than it was time to clean. I wasn’t expecting guests or the landlord or dealing with a major bought of ickiness. Keep in mind I don’t think we ever stop screwing and screwing up, but our lessons change as we get older. I mean, my life is no longer structured around penny pitchers, dance beats, well drinks and hello boys!

But what do I know about these neighbors? They play darts, they smoke (but not in the apartment), they used to drink a lot when they were 18 (every day according to one fellow!), they work in the service industry (one of the girls worked as a server at Cracker Barrel and the other was talking about serving but I never caught the name of the establishment), and that’s about it.

Was I any different or any better? What did I say when I was drinking and playing darts and unwinding? Yeah, dumb things. But not as dumb as the 1st floorers.

I kept waiting for them to notice me across the way. I made no effort to hide myself, my light was on, curtain fully open, but maybe the railing hid me. I continue to be interested in my neighbors on all sides.

What I really ask is, when did I get so much older than my neighbors? It sure would be nice to be friends with my neighbors, but I have nothing but big sister to give the folks who live in my immediate vicinity.

Hey, at least there’s no missing body being carried out by the vampire screwups.

In a few weeks I’ll have a brand new set of neighbors to stalk and judge! Maybe I’ll find some new friends.

In just over a week, my high school graduating class will hold their 10 year reunion. I will not be attending. Interestingly enough, I’ve been friended on Facebook by several former classmates, and really, that’s good enough for me.

I don’t really like the idea of facing the reunion alone. I wasn’t popular. I was smart, quiet, fat, extremely self-conscious, a little crazy, and just didn’t get into all of the typical high school things. Oh, and I was in the band. I was not an extreme loser, but I was definitely a non-entity on the social radar.

Parties? only if they were sleepovers where we talked about boys, watched movies, and ate treats.

Boyfriends? Only in my diary.

The only good thing about this reunion is realizing that 10 years later, I’m not the same person I was back in high school. I have a successful career, loads more social skills, and a much stronger sense of worth.

I will admit to e-stalking the reunion profiles to see who’s married, who has kids, who has a shitty job, who has a better job than me, and just other general “where are they now.”  Granted, I’ve gotten some of that info from the phenomenon that is Facebook, but it’s still interesting.

Overall, I think I’m doing alright. After all, I was in a magazine- how many of them can say that?

It’s true, I was nearly arrested at the local coffee shop this morning as I enjoyed my almond poppyseed muffin and soy latte.

Having survived an intense week with my morale intact, but my energy slightly depleted, okay significantly depleted (is it naptime yet?), I decided there was no reason to change out of my Missouri State tee (it’s a privilege to be a Bear) and Snoopy (THE RED BARON!) pjs, nor did I feel it necessary to tame my bedheaded, floofy hair. (hey I showered before bed so I’m clean at least!)

I think my appearance was a surprise. I do generally muster up the initiative to at least put on a pair of jeans and a shirt and control my hair, but not today. Now that you have that pretty picture in your head, let’s move on.

Not long after my arrival at the coffee shop, Tammi said hi to a patron who had just entered the shop. When I turned around I was staring at a uniformed, on-duty member of the Kansas City Police Department. (he confirmed that Cops hover at QuikTrip)

Being the punchy charmer that I am, I joked a bit to break the ice (okay, maybe it was a joke about saving a cat from a tree which means I’ve confused my uniformed rescue operatives, but I HADN’T HAD MY COFFEE YET). And then he took out his notebook. Dude, wait, what?

Apparently, policemen’s are now awarded points for meeting citizens. I may be receiving a call from the policeman’s supervisor to confirm that we did, in fact meet. Dear Supervisoring Police Person of Interest, this is to declare that I did in fact meet, or actually he met me, Officer Mark Carrel on July 25th at The Friendly Bean. We all chatted about our Blackberries and Officer Mark taught us many valuable items about the law and being responsible citizens. We also discovered that everyone knows Officer John Lozano. (I met him while working at KCPD Headquarters the summer after my freshman year of college.) I digress…

Somehow, my appearance (I PRETTY!) became an unlawful act. It’s true. It SHOULD be illegal to look this good so maybe I should have been arrested for disturbing the peace or “the piece.” *wink wink*

Our new buddy, Mark indicated that I was not in fact disturbing the peace and would not be arrested.

Can’t win em all.

What would someone learn about you from your trash? Investigators use trash analysis not just for evidence, but to figure out who someone is. (Or is that just something I saw on TV?)

You can learn a lot about someone based on their rubbage (yay thesaurus!) Assume you know nothing about me- not my gender, my name, age, income level, whether or not I have pets, etc.

So, here’s what’s in my trash today:

• Lean Pockets Box
• Weight Watchers Dessert Boxes
• Sweet Potato Chips empty bag
• Gluten Free Cheese Puff empty bag
• Moldy Coffee Grounds and filter
• Empty Sugar-Free Cherry Cola Box (Jones makes sugar-free!)
• Empty Sparkling Water Box (I enjoy Lemon, Lime, and Berry flavors)
• Assorted Mail Marketing Pieces (Direct Mail) aka “Junk Mail”
• Used tissues
• Sourdough Bread Bag (with one last slice- slightly moldy)
• Kashi TLC Fruit and Grain Bar empty box or two
• Empty Burrito Bols from Chipotle (x 3 or so)
• Chipotle Brown Bags
• Chipotle Cup (large)
• Empty Purina Complete Cat Chow bag
• Empty pasta box
• Empty can of black olives
• Empty can of corn
• Empty “Parma Rosa” sauce packet

Accessory trash includes used cat litter!

So, who am I?

Take the next step, does your trash reflect who you want to be?

I must admit, I like this QuickPress thing (I wonder how long it’s been around?) This blog is sort of bare with this new theme (not a knock on the theme, but I still need to personalize it a bit more.)

Here’s some pictures you might enjoy.

i broke a few mugs

It was festive and pretty.