Interview with J…

Today we’re gonna do a little interview with me. So let’s get it crackin’.

Q: J, what is your favorite movie genre?
A: Romantic Comedy

Q: J, what is your favorite book genre?
A: Romance novels

Q: J, what is your favorite type of song?
A: Love songs

Ok wait a minute! We’re gonna stop this right here. I’m sensing a pattern here! There seems to be a preoccupation of sorts with love. I admit it. I am in love with the thought of love. I’m convinced though, that I will never experience pure love in the romantic sense. Y’see there have been times that I thought that I was in love, but was just a bad case of heartburn, heh! Well one time in particular, I now realize that it was a strong case of lust that I equated with love.

I think my problem is not being able to distinguish between having love for someone and being in love with someone. I get to the point where I love a guy in a friendly type of way and I automatically assume (since he’s an unrelated male) that I’m in love with him. This whole love thing is a bear to figure out. Too much to think about and qualify that it makes it not really worth the hassle, hah! Yeah right. I can’t wait to find my true wuv and live happily ever after ‘n stuff.

Anyways, so the other day my coworkers and I were talking about marriage. They laughed at me when I told them that I just want the wedding. As wrong as that sounds, I totally mean it. I mean, ok, yeah I do want to be in love with whomever I get married to, but I really want the wedding.

I want the damned white dress. I want the bridesmaids, groomsmen, and my bebe as my flower girl. I want my daddy to walk me down the aisle, as we have a conversation about something silly he remembers about me from my childhood or how geeked I am to be getting married or something completely out of the ordinary that will make me laugh uncontrollably. I want the champagne…in copious amounts. I want the planning stressing without the Bridezilla assuming.

The problem is, you can’t get married without a groom. You can’t get a groom without dating. You can’t date if you don’t put yourself out there. Aaaaaand, I don’t typically put myself out there. I haven’t really been in the mood to date for the last couple of years. Yes, you read that right. There have been guys that I’ve been attracted to and all, but not nearly any that have motivated me to want to actively pursue them.

I need to fix that, so I can have my wedding, damnit!

On Imagination and Creativity…

I wrote this years ago for an assignment in undergrad. Thought I’d share it with you all. Also, yes I do realize it’s sort of cheating, but I’m tryna get back on the blog bandwagon…

By nature, I’m a writer. It’s been in my blood since I was a wee babe, ha! Over the years I have been consistently writing, be it for school or pleasure. I mainly enjoy writing for pleasure, as it has no bounds. I’m able to create what I want to write about and take it any direction that I please.

In that respect, I’d say imagination plays a huge role in assisting the completion of my goals. I tend to structure my life around the ability to use my imagination. When faced with tough decisions, it is a means of escapism. Not saying that I merely ignore these decisions and float off on a cloud to some sort of Happyland, but I use my imagination to help come to a solution for the problems. I usually picture myself choosing different paths and think about the possible outcomes of each. I also use imagnation when I am helping others sort things out in their lives. I am famous for telling my friends to “allow my mind to take [them] on a trip”, so that they can see things from a different point of view.

I also tend to use imagination when I’m working with my kids. Well, not my kids biologically, as I have none, but my younger cousins. Kids are very intrigued with playing pretend games. It helps them grasp things a little bit easier. There have been countless times that I’ve gotten them to do thing that they didn’t want to do by coming up with some sort of game that allowed them to pretend to be a character, animal, or something of that nature. Imagination is a strong tool in focusing the energy of the mind in my opinion.

Creativity, like imagination, is also a major factor in assisting me to get things done. As I said in an earlier paragraph, I consider myself a writer. It’s a hobby that I picked up when I was younger and just haven’t let go. Something about being able to, in a sense, define the destiny of another person is magnetic for me. I tend to write short stories with characters based on people I know in real life. With my characters though, I tend to play up some quality that I see in the person I know that’s otherwise hidden and not explored. I try to draw on that quality and mold my character around that one quirk. It’s helpful whn I’m writing about someone and they read it because I can say to that person that they were an inspiration, but the character isn’t really him/her.

Also when I’m able to be creative, my work flows freely. Quite a bit of the time when I have to write papers for school, I dread it. It’s usualy because my creativity has been stifled. Most teachers have a strict set of guidelines that you must follow and it’s their way or the highway. That is one of the most damaging things that a teacher could do to their students, in my opinion. I do believe, of course, that there should be some sort of structure, but I also belive that it shouldn’t be so structred that the student becomes more focused on trying to emulate the teacher’s model instead of worrying about the subject matter of the paper.

Without creativity and imagination helping us along, I think that life would be rather dull. No one would be unique. We’d all be the same blase people who simply are walking through life without living it.

The Story of K part V

Parts I, II, III, & IV here, here, here & here.

C and I sat in that confined space for a good 4-5 hours talking about everything. She could not see what I was doing with K. I, of course, tried to list his good qualities. For every one I named, she threw my earlier words back at me. She pointed out everything that I was too blind to see. I insisted that we were just going through a rough patch and we’d get over it.

I decided not to go to the party with my roommate (who gave me mucho shit about that for weeks after) and went home to be with K. I thought he’d be happy to see me and get to spend some time since he complained that I never came home. NOPE. We ended up getting into the biggest argument about nothing and he broke up with me. I was devastated. Went back to school and moved through the days like a zombie.

He had been such an integral part of my life for so long that I thought I was going to die without him. I became hella withdrawn and damn near flunked out of school. I wound up leaving university after that semester and moving back home. I’d see him very often and he’d look right though me as if I didn’t exist. I later found out that he’d be cheating on me for the majority of our relationship.

The whole “I like you so much” act that he played in the beginning? A front. He later told a mutual friend that he played that friend card to his advantage. He could see the insecurities and use them to manipulate me into doing whatever he wanted. My god was I gutted once I heard about that (years after the fact, natch). After him though, I was basically unable to trust any dude. I consistently questioned motives, which lead to some interesting dating experiences. It also lead to me thinking that I found my soul mate on the internet…but that’s another story for another day. 😉

The Story of K part IV

Parts I, II, & III here, here, & here.

Every now and again though, he’d make off color comments that rubbed me the wrong way. I chalked them up to immaturity (he was a year younger) most of the time and brushed them off. A few times though, he said things that were really hurtful and cut me to the core. He knew my weaknesses and began to prey upon them mercilessly. Soon, I began feeding into some of the nonsense. Looking back, I can see that his comments were untrue, but back then? Whooooooa boy!

Tell a girl whose esteem is already in the pot that she’s fat and why can’t she be thin like her BFF to control her. Tell a girl who is trying to be a “good Christian” that she’ll never get anyone else because she isn’t putting out and she’ll believe you. Tell a girl she’s clearly lucky to have you because she obvious can’t get anyone else judging from her track record and she’ll be yours forever. There were more hurtful and personal things that he did and said, but I don’t wish to recount them right now. I don’t want to get too emotional and travel back there.

Because I thought I was in love with him (and he loved me), I endured the incessant mental/verbal abuse. Toward the end, we argued nearly daily. Most often about sex or the lack thereof. His favorite argument was how I claimed to love him, but wouldn’t show him. Things got worse when I went off to college. I was only 45 minutes away from him, but I rarely went home. When we talked, he always needed to know who was in the room. Nevermind the fact that a) I lived on an all female floor and 2) I was so into his stupid ass that I didn’t give anyone else a second look. It. Was. A. Mess!

It all came to a head when one day, my new friend C saw me in the pencil sharpening nook bawling my eyes out. I’d just gotten off the phone with K and he went on this stupid tirade because I told him I was going to a frat party with my roommate. I used to complain to him about my roommate (she was a bit of a party girl). That night he compared me to her, saying that I was probably giving it up to dudes and holding out on him. A combination of the stuff with him, school and struggles in the spirituality department overwhelmed me and I broke.

The Story of K part III

Parts I and II here and here.

“Oh so now you ain’t got nothing to say?”

“I–um–well, I don’t really know…”

“Nevermind. Forget about it.” and he starts getting out of the car.

I grab his arm and say “Negative, partner. Explain yourself.”

So he goes into this whole spiel about how he’s been into me since we first met, but he never said anything because I used to always be talking about N. (Guilty. That boy has me completely GONE!) So he tried to suppress the feelings since I put him in the friend zone. According to him, I was too self-centered to see the signs and he felt foolish as time wore on. A finally told him that he needed to stop being such a punk and say something.

He still wouldn’t let me saying anything. He hopped out of the car and told me to think about it and let him know later. I immediately paged my BFF L and told her to call my cell so we could figure this out. I love that it had to be a collaborative decision in my mind. She called and told me that she wasn’t going to say anything either way. This needed to be my decision alone. Of course she was right, but I didn’t wanna hear that.

I went to bed with the issue weighing on my mind. In the morning, I made the decision to just go for it. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? Besides, the added bonus of not so platonic activities sounded like a good idea to me. So we started dating and it was fun in the beginning. Face time at school/work, random make outs before dance practice (mine, not his), & spending every free moment outside of school/work together…y’know the typical teenage love affair (no AKeys).

The Story of K Part II

Part I here

I honestly have no idea what she’s talking about. I didn’t really look at K in that way and was under the assumption that vice versa applied. Before we leave work that night, K apologizes for the Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde act and we’re good (in my eyes at least). A few days later, I’m chilling with A (who is so damn messy!) at work and he’s like “you know you’re bogus, right?” He goes into this whole thing about how I’m playing K when everyone can see that he likes me. Telling me I shouldn’t flirt with him because it’s hurting K and all this jazz.

A) I never took the flirting with A thing seriously because yeah…no. 2) K is not even showing me any rhythm that makes me believe this to be true. After hearing it from two different people on two separate occasions though, I begin to wonder if it’s true. So being my usual charming self, I tell A “Well, tell your boy to stop being a pussy and say something to me instead of making you run interference…”

Truth is, when K first started I thought he was really attractive (I had a thing for tall, light skinned boys then), but when we became good friends I brushed those initial feelings aside. I’d messed up enough friendships w/ boys by then to know better than to mix the two. I didn’t want things to go the way of my school crush N sans requite and whatnot. Nevertheless, I digress…

When we’re closing up for the night, K asks for a ride home. I’m still smarting with irritation from the A episode earlier, so I try brushing him off. He keeps insisting that we need to have a serious talk. Finally, I relent and give him the ride. He lived about 5 minutes from our job and it’s dead silent on the whole ride there. We pull up to his house and he just sits there.

Being my usual smart assed self, I say “Aight then. Bye. Nice talk we had there.”
“See, that’s your fucking problem, Joe! You can’t ever be serious.”
“Come again? Serious about? You insisted on riding home with me so we could talk. Then proceeded to sit here like a fucking baby and brood the entire time. What am I supposed to be serious about?”
“Serious about me.”

Well shut my mouth wide open.

The Story of K, part I

I have alluded to this story several times in the past and it is now time for me to share it. You see, I’d been reluctant to even begin to tell it because after all this time, it still makes me feel some kinda way about everything and how it went down. I have to break this up into parts because it’s a freaking TOME. This is the story of K, the first guy I ever called myself loving. This is the relationship that pretty much defined every relationship since. It shaped how I deal with guys as well as how I let them deal with me. At any rate, here is part one…

It all started back in 1999. I was in my junior year of high school, mooning over this dude that I was friends with, N. Story of my life. At any rate, I had resigned myself to the fact that we’d never be more, but that didn’t stop my imagination from going on trips every now and then. K began working at my after school gig around the time I was going through all of this and we became really cool. I’d talk to him about N and he’d call himself giving me advice. I humored him and was his sounding board as well. He rarely spoke freely about chicks he was digging, but when he did I’d offer my $.02.

Soon after K started at the gig, another guy named A started. Well, K&A became really tight because they were usually the only two younger guys working at our store. I thought A was the cutest thing since puppies the first time I saw him. In typical teen girl fashion, I shifted my crush from my school friend N to A. I used to find the stupidest reasons to walk around the store, so I could go see him. Flirting mercilessly, I got the feeling that A was kinda feeling me as well.

One day out of the blue, he asked me about K. He saw us together a lot and wondered what was going on. I went into the “he’s just my boy” song and dance. A finds it funny because according to him, “That [ninja] STAY talkin bout you. I coulda swore you were his.” Perplexed, I went to K and jokingly said, “So I’m on your mind a lot, huh? I just got an ear full about us from A.” He got so upset and wouldn’t talk to me. This went on for a few full days until one day he randomly asked me to take lunch with him.

So we go to lunch and I’m ribbing him about the silent treatment. He gets angry (again) and goes off on this whole spiel about how I need to talk about what I know and stop assuming. Of course, I’m irritated because here he goes again getting all pissy with seemingly no reason. So I get in a huff and leave him in the restaurant. I get back to work and I’m telling my best friend L about the drama with K. She’s like, “Are you blind? Everyone but you sees it…”

Textually speaking…

I have a love/hate relationship with text messaging. Sometimes I think that text messaging can be a wonderful tool for communication. For example, you really don’t want to talk on the phone with someone, but need a medium by which to communicate information. So long as the person doesn’t immediately call you back (pet peeve), your mission is accomplished.

My hatred for the wonderful world of texting begins with those who abuse it. There are some people who think that 160 characters is sufficient enough to be their only means of communication. These people suffer from a debilitating disease named Chronic Texting syndrome (CTS). A while back I met this guy. He seemed nice enough, was cute, and personable. We exchanged numbers with intentions to meet up again for dinner/drinks/something. A few days later I get a text from him and we chat a bit that way. A couple days later, I call and get voice mail. Anyone that knows me knows I HATE leaving messages, but I’m feeling dude so I leave one. A few hours later I get a text from him like, “Oh, I missed your call. :(” Dude, are you effing serious?! Why would you not call me back?! Especially since I’m sure the last line I said was like, “Talk to ya later” and NOT “Text me when you get this”. Needless to say, we didn’t quite make it past the texting stage. A combination of things lead us down that road, haha! The CTS was the icing on the cake.

The next textual offender is the chronic forwarder. Every joke, affirmation of friendship, declaration of love sort of message that these people get they feel the need to send onto you. WHY?! I will admit, I will send forwards. Most times only if they’ve genuinely made me have an IRL reaction. Otherwise I read ’em like, “Oh that’s nice. Moving on. . .” My lil cousin (love her to death) is a half a step from getting blessed out if I get another text from her that ends with an entreaty for me to not only send it back to her, but 397 of my closest friends as well. Good night nurse!

The last textual offender really burns my grits. Drunk texter, I am speaking to you. They say everyone is guilty of it, true. Unlike most people however, I compulsively reread all texts I send out to avoid the following. I received the following text on Sunday morning at 12:41 am: I wishvd i hrd somein clvr to say to end u n sx from last nite. First of all, I do not even know what that means. Second of all, I haven’t spoken to you in forever and you’re texting me? I did not think we were still friends! [No offense. None taken.] Finally, seriously what the fuck does that mean?

The moral of the story is this kids. Text messaging is an acceptable form of communication when used correctly. For those of you who abuse the privilege, don’t take offense when you notice the responses becoming fewer and even further inbetween.

When will it be my turn?

I feel as if this post and the last one is going to paint me as some unfulfilled emo kid who is seeking attention. Notsomuch. I just have these thoughts running through my head and I am done with trying to suppress them with drugs and booze. HA! Kidding. Everyone knows drugs are bad. 😉 At any rate, I’m trying to come to terms with some things and I work through stuff better when I write about it so here goes…

Last night, all of a sudden, I got really despondent. I was on Facebook (I’ve got to get a life & curb this addiction) flitting about when I came upon my cousin’s page. He is my age & has already been married twice. (That’s some dysfunctional shit, son!) The first one last a little bit over a year and his ex-wife was a heinous, golddigging, cheating slattern who didn’t deserve him. I don’t know much about this new wife (except she’s Finnish and he moved to Finland to be with her), but so far everything seems to be going well for them. So anyway, I’m looking through their pictures and they’ve sickeningly happy & all that jazz. *rolls eyes* Where’s the spoon so you can gag me with it? Yes, that last sentence you read was me throwing hella shade at them and their good good love. It’s only because seeing it is a constant reminder of my inability to find anything closely resembling what they have together.

I had to get off of Facebook and collect myself because I was on the verge of tears. (Much like I am while writing this if we’re being honest with each other.) At teh ripe old age of 27 (haha), I can count the number of signficant, non-dysfunctional relationships I’ve had on one hand. As a matter of fact, I won’t even need that hand because the number is zero. I’ve dated, had boyfriends, and even fancied myself in love a time or two. None of them had the staying power. Men flee from me like food products on a teflon surface. Well…actually, I shouldn’t say that.

In all honesty, most relationships that I’ve been in that’ve ended badly have been because of me. I don’t have the most extensive dating history, but I’ve been in my fair share of relationships (K, Stee, My “boyfriend”, That Dude, & reluctantly admitting this Buddy). Barring K(whose story I started writing a couple weeks ago w/ intentions on sharing here) and the crazy dude who TOLD me I was dating him, I’ve let some pretty good dudes go. There’s a pattern I follow damn near to the letter each time I get involved with someone. I meet a guy who fits my crazy criteria and we become friends. I let him get a little closer and that friendship blossoms into something more (not necessarily sexual). The closer he gets, I freak the hell out and push him away. Rinse & repeat.

I constantly say that I want companionship. I want to find that all encompassing “love of my life”. Yet, I can’t allow anyone to get close enough to be to become that one. *sigh* You would think that recognizance of destructive behavior would put one on alert to alter it, right? Meh, notsomuch. I’m still over here on my Christina Aguilera steez, hoping for someone to “Save Me From Myself” (amazing song, btw!).

Losing myself…

Alternately titled Why I Need a New Job…

Yesterday afternoon I had an interview. *starts ticker tape parade* I do not think that I was the person that they are looking for, but I am confident that I presented my best self. This was the first time I’ve left an interview and not felt weighed down. I will be excited for the opportunity if I am chosen, but I do not think I have it in the bag. I am okay with that though.

I learned of this interview early last week and put in time off accordingly. As of yesterday morning, my time off still had not been approved. My Team Lead “didn’t see” the request, but we got it taken care of and approved. Shortly before my departure, I told my senior that I was leaving early for the day. She badgered me with tons of questions asking where I was going and why. I politely told her that I didn’t have to answer those questions and I hoped she had a nice day. She has absolutely no authority, yet she questioned my right to use my time as I saw fit. All because it would have ended in her having to actually do a few more pieces of work (or so I thought. They didn’t do ANYTHING when I left yesterday).

For the past few months, I have been noticing some funny behavior from the superiors on my team. I am not sure whether it is a power trip or a complete disregard for the value of their employees, but either way I am not impressed. They constantly talk down to people and try to assert their authority in ways which are not productive or conducive to a satisfactory work environment. In the past few months I have been questioned about the usage of my PTO, told I was “too hard to please”, and basically told to look for other means of employment since I can’t be satisfied in my current position. I find all of the above a bit ridiculous. You would think someone asking for work to do would be given….oh I dunno…WORK TO DO…instead of smart/sarcastic remarks. I am not content with coming to work, doing 2 hours of real work, and spending the rest of the time on blogger/facebook/twitter. There is only so much internet surfing one can do before it becomes dangerous.

It seems like the only way to get ahead is to plant oneself in the crack of your superior’s posterior. MEH…NOTSOMUCH. I like to think that my work should speak for itself. In the time that I’ve been in my position (nearly 2 years), I have taken each task handed to me with gusto. I’ve helped create training implementation that lead to greater efficiency. I’ve not only learned, but I’ve been called to train people in every phase of our cross-training pilots…even in processes that I’ve only assumed within the last two months. I come in every day , on time, do my work, without complaint (even though I could). I have done countless “special projects” (including editing a course catalog for a new school under our corporation’s umbrella).

I feel like all of my work has been for naught. I feel trapped in my current position. I do not believe that I am going anywhere at [company name redacted]. Not because I don’t have faith in myself, but I am not one for butt kissing. So I am taking the advice of my manager (who blocked me from an internal position I wanted to pursue) and seeking alternative means of employment. I am hoping that yesterday’s interview was a step in the right direction. If not, then I hope others come along and soon. As it stand right now, I feel like I am in quicksand. Sinkly slowly, almost not noticably because I’ve grown content.

I don’t like what I am becoming as a result of this position. When I first started with the company, I had no complaints. I readily recommended people to apply for positions here because I was that HAPPY. Now? Notsomuch. I dread coming in here every morning. People who I might have liked under other circumstances have increasingly started to annoy me. I’m becoming withdrawn not only in my professional life, but in my personal life as well. I put on facades every day because I don’t want to be Maggie Misery. I don’t feel like I can be myself because I don’t know who I am anymore.

When something starts affecting you that deeply, in my opinion, it’s time to move on. So that’s what I’m trying to do. Now if only the employment world would agree with me…