The Scarlett directed me toward her own Johari window. And I thought, what a wonderful way for people to tell me how they perceive me, even just through my writing.
So please indulge me, by visiting my Johari window. It's just five or six words describing me....pretty painless, right?
As I told my boss this morning, the clothes stayed on at Mardi Gras.
However, there are a few things I need to STOP doing immediately:
1) Hanging out with FFG. I keep telling myself this and I keep going back on my word. Just the right amount of alcohol and I forget my resolution.
2) Drunk text messages. This is something I should have stopped last year, but like the above problem, it seems like a good idea at the time. I apologize to those on the receiving end.
That's all I've got right now....I'm sure as another weekend passes, I'll realize additional things I should quit as well. In the meantime, I'll work on these two.
The best thing I got out of the weekend (besides my light-up Jaeger beads)? A love of Bloody Marys.
I'm finding it hard to be at work today. There's not a whole lot keeping me focused, especially because I keep thinking about Hurricanes, parades, and beads.
Mardi Gras, to be exact.
After work tonight, my friends and I are making our way to the Show Me State for some Fat Tuesday festivities. Year after year, my friends in St. Louis invite me to come and I always have an excuse/reason I can't make it. This year, however, we began planning in December and are totally ready for whatever the weekend brings. Since none of us have ever been before, there are no expectations. And I surprisingly know quite a few people who are also going to be down there.
Last night, one of my college friends who is also going to St Louis asked me if I was going to flash my breasts for beads. A hesitant "Umm...I don't know" was my reply. To which he said, "Well if you don't know now, you'll definitely know on Saturday afternoon." Knowing me after a few drinks and with my group of friends, there is a definite chance I could get caught up in the hoopla....
Here's hoping it's not that kind of weekend.
After spending much of my day at my alma mater yesterday, I wonder how my stomach survived for four years. How is it that I do not have severe digestive problems as a result of the food I used to eat there? Looking back, I was pretty hard on my body during college. And yesterday.
Gross.
Beginning at 6:30 am, I knew it was gonna be a bad day. I woke up 10 minutes late and scurried out the door to the bus. Even though I flashed my card as I always do, it didn't read and as I walked toward a seat on the back of the bus, the bus driver was asking me to come back up. I was in my own barely awake world and that, combined with having John Legend singing in my ears, meant I didn't hear the driver. Suddenly some man told me that the bus driver was calling for me. The bus was waiting on me. I felt like an idiot. When I walked back to my seat and the bus got on his way, some woman in the middle of the bus handed me my hat which I had apparently dropped. I just wanted to go back to bed.
At the gym, I was breaking in my new sneakers which led to some bleeding on the back of my right ankle. The outfit I brought to wear for work just wasn't feeling right. I was fidgeting all day. I kept getting overheated, fanning myself off and on throughout the day. I had to run an errand at lunchtime, and the shoes I was wearing were KILLING my ankles. As soon as I sat down at my desk again, the shoes came off. Work itself was slow so I just played around all afternoon, which was probably the best part of my Wednesday.
Then came the easels. The easels were the straw that broke this camel's back - literally. You see, I am going to a Career Fair tomorrow for my company and was the designated person for the easels. We place these around our table with posters/signage about our company. I had to get four or five. And these easels are the most cumbersome things to carry. They are heavy. They are put together like tent poles, so the pieces keep unbending and sliding all over the place. They would not stay together. They kept falling on the ground. Since I had to look at some apartments after work, I left the Career Fair materials at my desk and would come back for them after doing the apartment thing. It wasn't even out of my way. Easier said then done. When I returned to my desk, I attempted to corral the easels under my arms. This was on top of the tote bag I had slung over my left shoulder and the plastic bag full of cereal in my right hand (this plastic bag later broke, of course). So I managed to make it to the elevator. Some poor girl had to help me pick up the easels since they fell on the ground before I got to the lobby. How was I supposed to get on the bus with these things?
Checking out of the building was more of the same. Easels collapsing on the ground and me looking ridiculous. I went outside to wait for the bus, but as I stood on the street desperately squeezing the easels under my arms, I knew there was no way I was going to make it all the way home via public transport with these damn things. So I went back inside. The man at the security desk suggested that I ask the mailroom to bundle up the easels so that they would be easier to carry.
(Timecheck - 7:30 pm)
The mailroom was empty. Very few employees finishing up many tasks at the end of the day. My easel-bundling request was not on the top of their priorities. But I waited patiently until they were ready. Even packaged up, there was no way I could take these on the bus. Imagine two cardboard boxes the size of golf bags. No Way.
I brought them up to my desk. I would make the car stop at the office before leaving for the Career Fair. Someone would help me carry these. And I vowed never to volunteer for easel duty again.
I finally left work. I got on the bus without my cardboard burdens. And I made it home at 8:30.
At least I had Project Runway to watch tonight.
It would be our luck that the day we begin looking for a new apartment is the coldest day of the year. Though sunny, it only managed to reach a high of 8 degrees yesterday (with wind chills it was minus 20). We bundled up and trudged around looking at places and killing time in between appointments with cupcakes and coffee. Cold again today as we looked at three more places. Of course, I had to ditch my future roommates because I was needed in the office again (grrr). Though all my work led to a successful new biz pitch, we are crunching numbers again for our newest client. Since I do have the day off tomorrow, I'll stop complaining. But I will most likely be checking out more apartments on my own in the bitter cold.
The whole apartment search is fun, although moving is a pain in the ass. I get excited exploring potential neighborhoods, especially because I am so ready to be out of our current place. There are a few things I will miss: my bedroom, our close proximity to the lake and to my favorite movie theater, and a few great restaurants. But that's the great thing about moving - I'm sure I'll find plenty of new things to love about wherever we end up.
So i checked out MyHeritage and imported the photo I posted of myself recently.
The site allows you to upload photos and it scans its celebrity database to tell you who you look like.
My Results:
Julia Roberts
Grace Kelly
Andie MacDowell
Sophia Loren
Jackie Onassis
Men: Dan Aykroyd..Jerry Seinfeld...John Cusack
No one has ever said I look like any of these people...but I won't complain (except for Ms MacDowell - I can't stand her).
I'm not sorry if my last post was sad.
Since I started writing (and letting people see what I write) five years ago, I've found my strength is honesty. I don't write well if I don't write what I'm thinking. My voice is loudest, clearest, saddest (and funniest) when I tell the truth. And I'm more honest in my writing than anywhere else in my life. I can tell complete strangers my most private thoughts when I'm writing (this blog is a perfect example), but I find it excruciatingly difficult to tell my best friend those same things.
Another perfect example of this would be when, in a story for a writing class, I carefully detailed my first time performing oral sex. I was a little anxious over how it would be received, but I really wasn't embarrassed or nervous for my peers to read it. In that same class, I was honest about love, relationships, my parents' marital problems, my strange grandmother, and the ugly phase I went through circa junior high.
I guess I like telling the truth. But I find it so hard when I'm face-to-face, when I'm actually speaking. A writer can edit, delete, and italicize until her truth feels just right. But what is a strength for me seems to be a weakness for many other writers, those who write in circles because they cannot be honest with themselves. I recently went to a reading of a memoir book where a woman in the audience asked the author how she was able to write so honestly about herself. This woman wanted to write memoir, but couldn't seem to tell the truth. She was editing herself, fearing readers' reactions. This was foreign to me. It's easy to be honest so long as you don't see your readers. What makes being honest on this blog so easy is that I personally know very few of the readers. And it is for those few I do know that I worry, I fear, and I edit my truth.
In real life, it's not that I lie or pretend to be someone else. I do, however, keep myself guarded. Among women, I sometimes appear snobbish. And at least one man as told me I come across as a bitch. (I'm really very friendly, I promise!) I don't go out of my way to meet people. And when I am put in a situation with unfamiliar faces, I don't warm to them easily. I don't trust people quickly. I take my time getting to know someone before I let them know me. And this, I fear, is my problem. When I start feeling lonely, I remember that I don't try to meet anyone. And I'm quick to reject others before I can let them reject me. I don't take risks. I don't "put myself out there". For awhile, that was okay. But now I'm just starting to feel pathetic. I'd like to go on a date once in awhile (I won't tell you that last time that happened). I'd like to have someone, other than my friends, to talk to. It doesn't have to be serious, just something to distract me, to bring me out of my funk for a bit.
At least I'm being honest.
I've renamed today Singles Awareness Day. Actually, I think I stole this from the comment section in another blog, but it fits. I was sitting on the bus, coming home from class tonight and just couldn't help but notice all the couples. Now there probably weren't any more twosomes on the CTA today than yesterday, but today I was AWARE of them. I was watching them. Observing them. Actually, I was doing this all afternoon.
This year Valentine's Day snuck up on me. I kinda forgot about it for a few reasons. First, I have been so busy with work and school and other activities that I didn't really notice. Secondly, I had plans for the day which were not centered around the holiday. Third, I don't have a valentine. I felt fortunate to be out of the office today because, and this probably stems from adolescence, but I don't like being at work on this day. Why? Well, I start overhearing my coworkers' Valentine's plans. I see flowers delivered to their desk. I eat too much candy. And I generally feel pretty down on myself. I start remembering junior high (ewww) and high school. Those were some pathetic Valentine's Days. Students delivered roses or candy during class periods. I never got any unless a friend and I sent them to each other. Girls swooned at their lockers when they opened the present from their 16-year-old boyfriend. And as crappy as the gifts usually were, I still wanted one.
I don't think I ever liked this day. I can't remember a time when I was excited for Valentine's Day. Because I've NEVER had a boyfriend on Valentine's Day. I've never been dating anyone at this time of year. And so I've never had any expectations for February 14th (aside from the abnormally high proportion of individuals who will be wearing red clothing).
So tonight, on the crowded bus, I almost lost it. I felt the tears stuck in my eyes, just at the verge of slipping out and down my cheek. Perhaps it was The Thompson Twins on my iPod ("Hold Me Now" always gets me). Perhaps it's because I am in love with someone who doesn't reciprocate those feelings. But lately (not only today) I've realized that I'm not happy. Something's missing and I just feel alone.
I had grand plans to post something lengthy tonight.
Then I had to work until 10:30.
Fortunately, I have a random day off tomorrow (what perfect timing)! I'm going to be in the audience at a very famous talk show. And I get to sleep in until 8.
The only thing that would make tomorrow better is if I had a valentine....
I need a vacation.
I am exhausted. It has been one long week of working and social obligations. And it yet to end. I worked Monday through Friday. Today. Tomorrow.
To top it all off, I have had some obligation each night this week with the exception of Thursday. I'm worn out. Tired. And need to get away. I've spent little time at home this week, which is probably why I opted out of going to my friend's birthday party tonight. I can relax, go to bed early, and rest up for more fun at the office tomorrow afternoon. I feel horrible about missing the party - it's a friend of mine who ALWAYS comes to each and every event his friends host. Skipping out tonight makes me feel like a terrible friend. But I could barely keep my eyes open, let alone put mascara on my lashes. Besides, it's cold outside and I'd rather just go to bed.
For all of those Chicagoans who have been complaining about the lack of a "real winter" around here, rejoice. Smile. Make snow angels. Stick your tongue to a flagpole.
Because the forecast is COLD all week. There is snow on the ground. And I am not happy.
(Alanis Morissette, Fiona Apple, Amy Brenneman, Eva Mendes, Julie Dawn Cole, Carla Gugino, and Angelina Jolie)
Additionally, if I were a man, I'd look like this guy:
(Alex Rodriguez)
Go figure.
Becoming a solo moviegoer has ruined sharing movie experiences with others.
Because I'd rather be alone.
Since I first went to see a movie by myself in December, I've seen one other film alone and one with friends. During the latter, I was seated in between my friends, one of whom I've never sat next to in a movie before. After her second or third comment, to which I just nodded or smiled (if you didn't know, I HATE talking during movies - mine or anyone else's), she got the hint and stopped talking to me. But before that, before the movie even started, I was thinking about how much better the experience would be if I were on my own.
You see, I make it a point to get to the theater early. I hate walking in as the lights are dimming. I like to be comfortably seated for awhile before the trailers begin. And since I don't like talking during a film, I don't have to worry about that when I'm alone. I can think and enjoy and wrap myself in the story, rather than answer questions or fake a laugh at something my companion says.
Now I'm excited to go to the movies alone. I tend to have slightly different taste in films than many of my friends, and I've realized that going alone is the only way I'll catch a movie at the theater. I find myself looking forward to a weekend opportunity to see something without my friends, and I hate trying to explain to them that I saw a movie by myself. They don't seem to quite understand.
There are, of course, exceptions. Once in awhile I like a good, laugh out loud comedic romp like Wedding Crashers where I can just throw Cinema Etiquette to the side. And I also love being accompanied to a movie when my companion is just as into the story as I am. Where we can discuss the film afterwards and share what we did and didn't like. This is probably why I've seen most movies with my mom. She knows my rules and follows them (most of the time), and we always leave the theater in silence at first, before we fully digest what we've seen and talk about it in the car.
I'm thinking Capote for this weekend....
