i've been having a visitor from austria stay with me. it's amazing how within one day that girl could absorb the very few house rules my boyfriend couldn't get into his head over the course of 4 years. this brings me to the conclusion that he simply doesn't care.
having a fellow austrian around me also makes me realize the characteristics i have lost over the years. primarily the "being too nice" trait. i can't count how many times i have heard my ex-husband or some of my friends tell me that i am being too friendly to people.
i feel like i have lost that. i am at a point at which i want to tell everyone whose life choices i disagree with exactly what i think. ;)
Friday, July 1, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
good things and bad things
bad happenstances this week:
- hitting traffic jam at 1:30 in the morning when already at absolute limit of strength to keep eyes open
- cell-phone touch screen shattering on the asphalt floor thanks to clumsy butter-finger gene (now slightly cutting fingers everytime i text).
- realizing best friend of 10 years has back-stabbing tendencies and has smeared my reputation at work
- noticing that my money tree is dying (fingers crossed that this doesn't really stand in any relation to my already shabby financial situation).
- new kittens vandalizing entire home. it's official: every single piece of furniture is now slightly torn up ... and this is only the beginning of their terrible reign in my house. :(
- ok...lemme think..............
- uhm...as i am complaining to J about the traffic jam, i notice the passenger in the car next to me is cracking a cigar, which - if you are familiar with the street - means they're about to roll up some smoke. As I look at the two young guys in the front seats, the driver blows me a kiss. I shake my head. They're a good 15 years younger than I (and I'm being stingy with the years). "Alright, hand it over", I joke and their expressions change from attempted seduction to surprise to joy. A minute later they roll up next to me again (it's all stop-and-go) and one of the youngsters stretches over to me to hand me a little bag of weed! I couldn't believe it....all these years I would have loved for someone to hand me a free bag of smoke and then -- when I have decided to let it go to help J stay clean -- there it comes...delivered by a complete stranger in the middle of the highway. ... Tsk, tsk, tsk. ...
so, this was supposed to be a positive thing that happened...which it totally would have been, would I still be smoking. ;) ....but I'm counting it anyway...just because I feel like I should think more positively. I am feeling mighty bitter these days. Disillusioned and hopeless about the state of humanity. I used to be an optimist, now I would say, I'm a realist, but J just calls me a pessimist. I don't know....I refuse to believe that I it has come to that...
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
morning coffee
arrive at dunkin donuts drive-through. get cursed out by guy because i signal to turn when he would prefer everybody goes straight so he can get to his destination as fast as possible. get welcomed by automatic greeting. as every day, i am upset by this impersonal reflection of the shop's lazyness. what? you can't tell me 'hello' yourself? really? is it that more annoying to say hi to everyone who comes through than it is to take the same order 500 times a day?
i order latte. conversation goes something like this:
me: small iced latte with 3 sugars and milk.
DD: medium or large?
me: SMALL iced latte. 3 sugars. milk.
DD: small hot latte, caramel, with cream.
me: (thinking: seriously?!) -- NO, SMALL ICED latte. NO FLAVORS. Just 3 sugars and milk.
realize there is no sugar in my drink once i take my first sip on the highway.
try to find old sugar packets in glove compartment. almost crash.
decide it's the perfect time to learn how to drink coffee without sugar.
since i'm cutting down on sugar, i decide, it's ok to skip my trip to the gym.
liking the new (sendentary) health plan.
i order latte. conversation goes something like this:
me: small iced latte with 3 sugars and milk.
DD: medium or large?
me: SMALL iced latte. 3 sugars. milk.
DD: small hot latte, caramel, with cream.
me: (thinking: seriously?!) -- NO, SMALL ICED latte. NO FLAVORS. Just 3 sugars and milk.
realize there is no sugar in my drink once i take my first sip on the highway.
try to find old sugar packets in glove compartment. almost crash.
decide it's the perfect time to learn how to drink coffee without sugar.
since i'm cutting down on sugar, i decide, it's ok to skip my trip to the gym.
liking the new (sendentary) health plan.
Friday, May 20, 2011
hatching strategies for future love life
not sure if you can "hatch" a strategy but i don't have time to look this up right now. i have 10 minutes before i leave work. so, here my strategies to avoid my former mistakes in choosing men.
Strategy 1:
I will tell everyone I am not into guys anymore, therefore, nipping in the bud any and all come-on attempts (and potential failures of mine to remain selective). This may even bring me a bunch of new friends, for it will remove the rejection effect.
Strategy 2:
I will present suitors with a request that will most likely deter them anyway (thus weeding out the ones not worth my time). The only problem with the request is that it sounds so snobbish I am not sure if I can pull it off. So here it is: If a guy wants to go out with me I will ask him to undergo an interview process of a sort. I need to know where he works, how long he has been working there, what his relationship is to his parents. I would like to speak to his friends and preferably to his ex-girlfriend/wife.
This request wouldn't sound so nuts if the man would know what he'll get in exchange. Of course, the problem is, he doesn't - so...it appears I'll never be in any romantic liaison again. ;)
It's just that I am soo tired of wasting my time with men that take advantage of my kindness, tolerance, patience, and generosity. I'm not all peach and chocolate, of course, but, I think, as a whole package it's hard to find a mate as freaggin' committed and tolerant as I am. Or maybe, women are just like that in general... And men just usually think of themselves (in a relationship). Built-in mechanisms?
Of course, this is angry stereotyping and I should probably spend a bit more time than 10 minutes on writing an entry that contains such a heavy statement. Some of my male friends would not be happy if they read this entry...so I'll shut up and revisit the topic later.
For now: time to focus on work. My own stuff.
Strategy 1:
I will tell everyone I am not into guys anymore, therefore, nipping in the bud any and all come-on attempts (and potential failures of mine to remain selective). This may even bring me a bunch of new friends, for it will remove the rejection effect.
Strategy 2:
I will present suitors with a request that will most likely deter them anyway (thus weeding out the ones not worth my time). The only problem with the request is that it sounds so snobbish I am not sure if I can pull it off. So here it is: If a guy wants to go out with me I will ask him to undergo an interview process of a sort. I need to know where he works, how long he has been working there, what his relationship is to his parents. I would like to speak to his friends and preferably to his ex-girlfriend/wife.
This request wouldn't sound so nuts if the man would know what he'll get in exchange. Of course, the problem is, he doesn't - so...it appears I'll never be in any romantic liaison again. ;)
It's just that I am soo tired of wasting my time with men that take advantage of my kindness, tolerance, patience, and generosity. I'm not all peach and chocolate, of course, but, I think, as a whole package it's hard to find a mate as freaggin' committed and tolerant as I am. Or maybe, women are just like that in general... And men just usually think of themselves (in a relationship). Built-in mechanisms?
Of course, this is angry stereotyping and I should probably spend a bit more time than 10 minutes on writing an entry that contains such a heavy statement. Some of my male friends would not be happy if they read this entry...so I'll shut up and revisit the topic later.
For now: time to focus on work. My own stuff.
Not sure if i like my new blog title
Dammit, all the pretty blog names i've wanted to use were taken -- so, i went with "Over-analyzing Queen", which wouldn't be all that bad if it hadn't the word "ANAL" in it. :p
Somehow that bugs me.
Anyway, here the names I've wanted to use but which are probably taken by someone who _isn't even blogging_ or whose blog's content doesn't match the title at all. Like I am guilty of with my last blog, although, when you go check it out you won't see evidence of this misuse of a title/url anymore, for I have fittingly renamed it from "Sapient Musings" to "Addicted to An Addict". There just wasn't all that much sapient activity. As much as I tried to lighten it up with posts I copied over from my older blogs ("Bitchin' Mama Part#1" & "Bitchin' Mama Part#2"), my new entries were all a bit tragic and should have brought before an Al-Anon meeting instead of the silenced blogosphere I've put my stories into.
Ehm... I think I was going to list the names I was going to choose for this blog before I got stuck with "Overanalyzing Queen" but now I can't remember. My short-term memory is useless.
I blame it on the children and my endless days of work. ;)
I am happy to report that I have introduced a gym hour into my day, though. Was about time. I've been storing my gym clothes in the office for about 2 years now. Turns out, gym time isn't as much torture as I remember it to be. The key is to only do exercises you like and without pushing yourself (as the fitness buffs try to tell you). This way you don't develop an aversion to going to the gym and should look forward to this time away from everything. Just listening to music...moving your body as you please. I guess, you could also have sex instead...or go dancing. But sex requires a partner, and a partner comes with requirements and potential drama variables further into the routine. And dancing, well...it would just be awkward to start dancing around for an hour in the middle of the day. It's just not as socially acceptable as walking on the treadmill. [That's right. I _walk_ on the treadmill. I hate running. But, I walk fast, ok! So, stop judging me.]
Somehow that bugs me.
Anyway, here the names I've wanted to use but which are probably taken by someone who _isn't even blogging_ or whose blog's content doesn't match the title at all. Like I am guilty of with my last blog, although, when you go check it out you won't see evidence of this misuse of a title/url anymore, for I have fittingly renamed it from "Sapient Musings" to "Addicted to An Addict". There just wasn't all that much sapient activity. As much as I tried to lighten it up with posts I copied over from my older blogs ("Bitchin' Mama Part#1" & "Bitchin' Mama Part#2"), my new entries were all a bit tragic and should have brought before an Al-Anon meeting instead of the silenced blogosphere I've put my stories into.
Ehm... I think I was going to list the names I was going to choose for this blog before I got stuck with "Overanalyzing Queen" but now I can't remember. My short-term memory is useless.
I blame it on the children and my endless days of work. ;)
I am happy to report that I have introduced a gym hour into my day, though. Was about time. I've been storing my gym clothes in the office for about 2 years now. Turns out, gym time isn't as much torture as I remember it to be. The key is to only do exercises you like and without pushing yourself (as the fitness buffs try to tell you). This way you don't develop an aversion to going to the gym and should look forward to this time away from everything. Just listening to music...moving your body as you please. I guess, you could also have sex instead...or go dancing. But sex requires a partner, and a partner comes with requirements and potential drama variables further into the routine. And dancing, well...it would just be awkward to start dancing around for an hour in the middle of the day. It's just not as socially acceptable as walking on the treadmill. [That's right. I _walk_ on the treadmill. I hate running. But, I walk fast, ok! So, stop judging me.]
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