On procrastination
I'll finish this post later.
2007
Senility is not an excuse
Just recounted this story at lunch and Roboco said it would be a good post so here it is:
When I was freshly dating Kiddo's sperm donor in '92, his mom was no big fan of mine. She hadn't met me, she only knew the color of my skin. In and of itself, I really didn't care. I didn't have to deal with the woman so her opinion was only that.
One day, we needed to stop by his mother's house for some reason that I can't recall. This is the day that I had the great pleasure of meeting his grandmother (Oma) for the first, and last time. This woman was old. I mean how-are-you-still-functioning old. She was also straight off the boat German. So on this particular day, Oma's sitting in the kitchen when we walk in. She talked to him for a few minutes before seeming to acknowledge my presence. Even still, she doesn't speak to me, but she asks him:
"Who's your DARKIE friend?"
No, not in an aside, not in a whisper, in full old lady voice and without a hint of regard for my feelings or what would be PC in the next 10 years. My jaw may have hit the floor. I'm pretty sure I had to just leave the room cuz, really, what do you say to an old crazy lady like that?
I'm in love with a stripper
Listo.
MWAHAHAHAHA, not really. I don't know any strippers and I'm not the type of girl to fall in love with random people on the street. Me? I'm just an SIT (stripper-in-training). HA! No, again, not really. I don't know any strippers and I don't plan on being one. I'm also not in love with myself although, in my cockier days, I once said something along the lines of "Sometimes I look in the mirror and I look so good that I wanna have sex with myself." But that was in the cockier days of several years ago.
I've been taking pole dancing lessons. Here. I don't care what anyone says, it's one hell of a workout. I don't know if I'll make it through all six levels of classes, but if I don't run out of money, I probably will. The first level was really cool. The teacher was chill, gave great explanations, created a comfortable setting for us. I learned some nifty stuff. (I really have to get a pole for the house.) Currently, I'm in level two, since two comes after one. I'm not afraid to say that in the first class, I was none too thrilled with the teacher. I couldn't quite put a finger on it, but I knew I wasn't happy. Ok, maybe I could put a finger on it. She was calling me by the wrong name. Constantly. Even with it written down right in front of her. Granted, my name is not the easiest, but if it's printed on paper in front of you, I expect you to be able to sound it out. It just irked me to the point of not enjoying the class.
Class is only once a week, so I decided that I was going to purposely call her by the incorrect name the next week. Well, I didn't make it to that class due to unforeseen circumstances (that are still outstanding, btw, see On Rejection. I emailed, it's still open, blah blah blah.) So, last Wednesday, it was back to class. I sat outside in my car before class, trying to clear my head of any bad thoughts regarding previous classes. I'm pretty sure it worked and maybe I even sent some happy vibes into the class.
I went in and got my mat and got set up and after everyone got settled, the teacher started to take attendance. Once again, she said my name wrong, but nearly before I could say anything, she corrected herself and apologized for having been saying it wrong. Well then. I accept your apology, let's swing on the pole. I figured out why I wasn't a fan of the teacher. It isn't her personally, it's her teaching style. But, once I adjusted the way I looked at things, I was able to be more receptive to the way she was teaching.
At the end of the class, someone asked when we would be learning upside down on the pole to which the teacher responded not until level 5. I don't have any patience when it comes to learning something I really want to learn, so when she dropped the 5-bomb, I wasn't happy. She proceeded to tell me how difficult it was and blah, blah, blah. I said look, I'm a circus freak. She asked if I had ever gone upside down and I told her no so she did it and then I did it. Yep, hip hop abs in full effect, y'all. Thanks Shaun T! She suggested that I speak to the owner about getting moved up some levels.
As an aside, I did contact the owner and she said that she would ask my teacher how I did so maybe next session I could sign up for the pussycat dolls class where you learn stuff like the videos that I've never seen.
So yeah, I guess I'm excited about class. Swing me the bar, please, I'm listo. HEP!
On rejection
Listo. I just don't know what for.
I should probably be better at this by now. I am 33 after all. All grown up, with grown up thoughts and feelings. MOST of the time. I guess I've just never gotten used to it or I try my best to avoid situations in where rejection may come into play.
Growing up, I lived in a fairly tight-knit community. Our road was just about a mile long and of all the families, I'd say at least 80% had children in the same age range. So, let's see. There was me, my brother, Michelle, Shawn, Lori, Amy, another Shawn, occasionally a Justin and a Tisha, Matt, Mikey and Larry. As we got older and ventured off of our road and onto the next, we picked up Scott, Larry and Donna. Others came and went, but that first group were the main players. Now, I'm not a girly girl. I never have been. (My mom was kinda bummed about it but my dad dug it.) I didn't have Barbies, didn't want them. I had a Cabbage Patch Kid – Addi Trista – but only because it was a present from an out-of-town relative. I wanted to run and jump and rough-house. With the boys. And they let me. Could have been out of fear of my father, but I like to think it was because they were just amazed that a GIRL wanted to do these things.
Don't get me wrong. I tried. I tried playing Barbies but I just found it to be ridiculous. Sitting inside the house on a perfectly good day making up stories about a plastic bitch who's about as real as Santa just wasn't my thing. And yes, I knew Santa wasn't real from a very young age and I spoiled it for both my brother and cousin. But me and Barbie, we never saw eye to eye. I won't even say it was because Barbie didn't have any black friends because I was a little older before I realized that THAT would/could be an issue.
Out of the few girls, I mostly hung out with Michelle and Lori. It was an odd situation. I was in the same grade as Amy, but closer in age to Michelle and Lori. So here's the thing. I could hang out with any one of them on their own and we'd get along fine but as soon as a thrid person came into the mix it was see you later me. It was like I played second fiddle to everyone on the block. For a while, the three of us hung out. We had a "club". Until one day, Michelle and Lori decided that I wasn't cool enough to be in the club any more and they told me I was out. Mmmm, mmm. Rejection tastes good. Like road kill.
Let's jump ahead to school years. I went to a private school through 4th grade. Not because we were rich or the public school wasn't good, but because I have a late birthday and public school wouldn't take me. The transition to public school wasn't an easy one. The only person I knew was Amy and she assimilated a lot better than I did. Some of the kids were friendly, like the trio that approached me as soon as I got there exclaiming that my birthday was close to theirs. Some were not, like the boy who ran up behind me and said "We don't like little black girls."
As a sidebar, that same boy ended up being one of my very good friends by the end of high school. What up JR?
The school year went on and people made friends, but not me. Mmmm, mmmm. Rejection tastes better with a side of school mashed potatoes.
High school wasn't much different. I had a lot of acquaintances, but very few friends. I had crushes, but never a boyfriend. Granted, I was two years younger than everyone else, but no one knew that unless I told them. Even my acquaintances were mostly guys. Which, of course, didn't go over well with the girls. Mmmmm, mmmmm. Say it with me.
I found out pretty quickly that I didn't enjoy the whole rejection scenario at all. So what did I do? I started to just cut everyone off. I figured I didn't need them. Small town America go fuck yourself. I left. I went to NY. (Rejection in NY tastes like pizza.) But I came back.
I started re-acquainting myself with people. I made a friend. Yes A friend. She had friends and they let me, the moth, flit about the outside of their butterfly garden. Through them I met a guy. He was nice. We hit it off. But then one of their friends thought he would be better off with someone else, so they told him nasty and untrue things about me. FUCK YOU MIKE GRIMES! Sorry, that slipped. But it was all for the best because small town America just wasn't for me. I left again.
By this time, I just stopped putting myself in positions where I thought I might get rejected. Rejection is hell on my ego. It's hell on me in general. I never got used to it and I never understood why and I certainly never liked it. It's probably the main reason that I don't have female friends, or any for that matter outside of work (that are within an hour drive). I've never been able to fit in. I'm okay with it now. I have Kiddo and I have Lovey and that's good enough for me at the moment even though they drive me nuts at times.
Lovey's been the best at supporting me in the latest rejection. Technically, it's not a rejection yet, but I'm not holding my breath on any good news. A couple weeks ago, I was perusing the classifieds, as I always do job or not, and I saw something interesting. I figured what could it hurt to send my info. I kinda forgot about it and when they called me it took a minute to figure out who they were and why they were calling. Well, we hit it off over the phone and we traded emails and I went to not one, but two interviews and was told when I asked how many other people were in the pool for the position that "I was on top of my game and I shouldn't worry about that. Read between the lines. :-)". Okay, maybe what I read between those lines wasn't what they meant. But, when you've met an entire team and everyone liked you and then you hear something like that, what would you think?
So here's where it's technically not a rejection yet. I was assured that all candidates would be notified one way or the other when a decision was made. I got the impression that they wanted to get this done sooner rather than later. But today, I saw an ad posted for the exact same position. For me, that rejection tastes like bad mangos because now, even if they call and say I've got it, I feel like they didn't really want me but no one else applied and we need a warm body. I don't think I'd be able to accept if they did offer it now because I don't play second fiddle. Or third. Or fourth. Am I wrong? Am I crazy? Any thoughts?
HEP!
FA-BO-LO-US
Estimados Miami,
No pueden caminar en frente de mi carro cuando yo tengo la luz verde y si se hacen, yo te voy romper sus piernas.
Now, for those of you not from Miami or those of you who, like me, aren't bilingual (okay, I'm pretty good when I'm drunk) that says:
Dear Miami,
You can't walk in front of my car when I have the green light and if you do, I will break your legs (with my car).
Love,
The angry girl in the green car.
Seriously. I need that big black cop-rammer that the police have on the front of their car. It would keep hair and blood out of the grill of my car. Just last week I was driving through downtown, fortunately slower than usual because I was a little lost, and before I knew it, someone was standing in front of my car. She was on the phone, walked out from between two parked cars, NEVER LOOKED, and walked out in front of my moving car. Lucky for her I was in a good mood and I stopped. Don't be fooled. Even with my windows up, I screamed at her as she stood in front of my car looking at me like I was driving on the sidewalk. Oh, and she heard me. I'm loud. Many years ago, I used to be a cheerleader. Her cheer went a little something like this:
(head nod to start the cheer) HEY! (clap, clap, nod) Hey you! (clap, clap) ARE YOU FUCKING RETARDED?!?!?! (clap, clap, flip her off) (clap, nod)
Yeah, so anyways, downtown's pretty cool. Why just yesterday I saw a homeless gentleman standing near a FedEx truck. He was chatting away and I thought that he was talking to the driver. Nope. As I got closer, I noticed that he was talking TO the FedEx truck. He held one finger in the air while he talked. He then proceeded to cross himself. Is FedEx sponsoring a new religion? Deliverotology? Do they preach from the Gospel of Two Tries and then you have to come to The Warehouse? You should visit Miami. Really. Make sure you go DWNTWN.
In other news, I think I pulled a muscle in my leg this morning. No one to blame but myself on this one. You see, I'm the first one up in the household and I try to be quiet and not turn on too many lights upstairs where everyone else is sleeping. Usually, I do a good job. Today, not so much. I was coming up the stairs in the dark and I somehow miscalculated the number of steps. It could have been worse, I could have thought that I was at the top when there was one more step. That would have woken Lovey up for sure. Kiddo could sleep through the Texas Chainsaw Massacre ocurring in her room. But no, I thought there was one more step when there wasn't. If you've done this, you understand and know how funny it is a few hours later. I'm sure that if there was a hidden camera in the house, I would've looked hilarious. I managed to stay on my feet though. Yay me!
I'm really not much one for the current state of hip-hop. Once in a while, something will come along that I actually enjoy hearing. Make Me Better by Fabolous f/Ne-Yo is one of those songs. The beat is somewhat catchy and the verses are okay and sometimes amusing, but it's really the chorus that makes me like it. There's so much negativity these days in the hip-hop that it's refreshing to hear someone say/sing:
I'm a movement by myself
But I'm a force when we're together
Mami I'm good all by myself
But baby you, you make me better.
It's over there ————>
Listen if you like.
I suppose it's time to get this day underway. I added more to my plate without finishing my broccoli, but that's just the way I roll. My FFO is listo on the board. HEP!