Since I have recently given this link to a fairly large number of people in the past few hours or so (well, okay, I put it in a slightly more accessible place, but it's highly unlikely that those people will actually check out this particular page) I figured I'd get the depressing stuff off the front page.
I've been listening to The Vespers for the past hour and a half or so. They've got this incredible, haunting sound and their songs just hit home with me. I'd go on about how I'd love to have a band and be a singer, but let's face it, I just don't have the voice for it. You know, whatever.
The only way I'm able to listen to music non-stop these days is to draw or write while I listen (unless I'm driving). And I've had the worst writer's block, so up until I started writing this, I was drawing. I'm trying this abstract thing. It works out okay, but I find myself a little limited by the fact that I don't have the color spectrum I'd like to use in the mediums I'd prefer to use. But that's my own fault, so maybe the next time I'm at Wal*Mart I'll get some.
I'd actually written a post a few nights ago, and for some reason I was unable to post it or save it on here, and since it's not exactly completely relevant now, you might never get to see it (at least until the next time I open up my chat on Facebook and feel the same lack of courage).
I'm finding myself having to become very independent very quickly. And yes, I do write that as a necessity. I'd love to be codependent again, but alas, there is no one there for me to be codependent on, so I must stand on my own two feet through all my ups and downs. It's not exactly easy. Honestly, most days I feel like collapsing. But I'm managing. And I suppose that's the first step.
And I've been praying a lot recently, too. It mostly looks like I'm talking out loud to myself, but that's because it is QUIET when you don't have anyone else to talk to but God. So I've just started a running commentary to God. I figure at the very least, it's gotta be somewhat amusing for Him. He probably has a lot of sad prayers a lot, so if I'm giving something slightly ridiculous or redundant or obvious, He can at least chuckle a little and pat my spirit's head and say "oh you're so funny, keep going, I'm going to deal with this issue in Darfur or somewhere else very important in a lot of trouble, but I'm still listening." It's thinking like that that keeps me going, sometimes. At least someone is, right? Even when I'm all by myself, God's right there, listening to my little commentary about the world around me, no matter what it is. And it's easier like that.
But it's helped me sleep better and helped me process my thoughts better, and I've come to several realizations recently about issues that previously didn't make any sense to me at all. So it must be paying off, right?
I also quit smoking a few weeks ago. It wasn't terribly difficult for me, but then again, I hadn't been smoking that long. And I'll tell you what, I've noticed a 180° difference. So if you can stick it out, do it. It won't be easy, I'm not saying that, but you'll notice you feel better, and you can see the world in a whole new light. (I'll only briefly touch on the fact that I even smoked is probably a revelation in and of itself to many of you, because I kept it quiet because it wasn't something I was proud of. Which is a whole other reason to quit; if you aren't proud of it, and you deliberately hide it because you're ashamed, don't do it.)
As some of you might know already, my air conditioning in my car hasn't worked for the entire summer. Which, admittedly wasn't always fun, but since most of the time I prefer to drive with my window down, having the A/C on is a little redundant in the first place, so it actually took a really long time to notice (and my Dad, and my best friend and anyone else who rode in my car, which isn't many which is why it took so long, to point it out). So I managed, but I'm getting it fixed tonight. Hopefully that's the only thing left to do on the Aluminum Falcon, other than the 3000 mile checkups that need to happen regardless, so that'll be nice.
What else? there's gotta be other stuff that's happened since my last post that you all need to hear about...
Oh well, if there is anything, I guess I'll just put up another post. I expect you can expect several of these throughout the semester, since this is one of my favorite things to do while waiting for class to start. Of course, that might have to wait until the 10th, since my first class was cancelled and is now an online class, and my second class' professor will be out of town the rest of this week, then next week we have labor day and he'll be out of town that Wednesday too... So we'll see.
Until Next Time, Dear Readers,
Me
Monday, August 27, 2012
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Ending the Dry Spell
with more sad teenage rambling from a young woman old enough to know better...Sorry about your luck. I'll try and keep it sarcastic enough for you, but I'm making no promises.
I've learned that no one actually listens to me. Oh, they say they do, and they certainly hear some of the things I say, but no one is listening. If I'm not being spoken over, I'm getting no feedback whatsoever. And I'm tired of it, frankly.
I know I don't always speak my mind, and I know I have a round-about way of talking about things. Writing is a lot easier for me because I get more time to think through what I want to say and how to phrase it so people will understand me. And verbal communication in person has always been difficult for me, mostly because what I want to say, I'm not allowed to because of social reasons. I'm also less likely to mispronounce something if I'm typing it rather than if I'm saying it. That being said, you'd think I'd post on here more, but the truth is, because I've never been listened to, I find it hard to believe anyone would read what I write.
It might be why I haven't started on that book series in earnest yet. Or it could be that I'm lazy, whatever.
It's why I don't tend to open up to people. I can know someone for years and they'll not know a thing about me, because I don't say what I want to because I don't think they'd care enough to listen. It'd be harder for me to believe if every time I tried to say something that I honestly believed in or thought, people wouldn't just ignore me, talk over me, or just not pay attention, then later say the exact same thing I just did, and not give me the credit for it. Which hurts. A lot.
I'd like to think the girl I've called my best friend for the past two years (almost three now) listens to me. But sometimes I think she gets an idea in her head, and is too stubborn to actually listen to what I really mean. Now, there's nothing wrong with that, since as I've mentioned SEVERAL times in these few paragraphs, I'm used to it, lots of people do it, nothing to be ashamed of. But it still hurts. And it's even worse because no one will ever let me explain what I really mean. It takes me so long to sort through my thoughts and emotions that I can't actually hold a conversation with people, unless it's via text (either email, or texting) and no one will wait for me. I feel like I'm being left behind in the conversation, in my life, in my relationships.
I'm losing hope on ever finding anyone who will listen to what I have to say and actually give me real feedback on what I'm telling them, as opposed to just responding to what they think I've said. No one asks me questions, they just assume they know what I'm thinking. I'm not that easy to read. and no one really knows me.
It's hard, but I'm coming to terms with it. I mean, I've lived with it for 20 years. Might as well get used to it now, right?
And no one thinks I'm smart enough to have my own thoughts and opinions. I'm not always well educated on the subject at hand, and that very often comes across, but people assume that because I don't know one subject, I don't know anything and they try and tell me how to live my life based on what they would do, because they don't think I can manage myself.
Which is dumb, because as far as I can tell, I'm probably the most put together person I know. So my room's a disaster and I rarely remember to (or care about) feed(ing) myself. I pay my bills on time, I do okay in school and I'm always at work when I need to be there, unless I'm not feeling well. And even at that point, I still try and do my job until I realize I just can't handle it when I'm ill. I don't reach out to people because I'm worried they won't be reaching back.
And isn't that a key to my locked mind. I've holed myself behind my walls because no one ever did reach out to me. Any time anyone reaches out to me, I reach back to them. And they're always grateful. But when I reach, no one ever even looks. No one cares. And it sucks. The only friendship in my life that I thought was worth something, she reached out to me first.
I don't lead a bad life. I have a great life. I love my job, and I love the people I work with, my family is wonderful and supportive, I have a friend, I have several friends...but no one knows me. No one even bothers to try and learn.
I can't talk to anyone because I just end up making them feel bad too. And that guilts me into feeling worse, so I don't tell anyone what's on my mind in fear that they'll be brought down, too. Most of the time, I can be quite happy and cheerful. I've learned to ignore that people don't care, simply because I do. I care a lot. And that will most of the time over power this feeling of no one caring back. And for the most part, people seem to like that about me. But they don't care.
And that's really really painful, when I let it get to me. Like I am now.
Don't worry, I'll probably be fine by tomorrow. We'll blame my menstrual cycle. It's always a good excuse when I'm being sensitive to this. Because I do have it under control. I just feel lonely sometimes. And it makes me sad, but I've gotten so used to it. I've been alone for ever. Even when I thought I wasn't, I still was. And maybe one day, God will send the right person who will listen and care into my life, but that's still a long way off, I feel. And that's fine. I'm a patient person for the most part. I've waited this long. What's another 20 years?
Until Next Time, Dear Readers,
Me.
I've learned that no one actually listens to me. Oh, they say they do, and they certainly hear some of the things I say, but no one is listening. If I'm not being spoken over, I'm getting no feedback whatsoever. And I'm tired of it, frankly.
I know I don't always speak my mind, and I know I have a round-about way of talking about things. Writing is a lot easier for me because I get more time to think through what I want to say and how to phrase it so people will understand me. And verbal communication in person has always been difficult for me, mostly because what I want to say, I'm not allowed to because of social reasons. I'm also less likely to mispronounce something if I'm typing it rather than if I'm saying it. That being said, you'd think I'd post on here more, but the truth is, because I've never been listened to, I find it hard to believe anyone would read what I write.
It might be why I haven't started on that book series in earnest yet. Or it could be that I'm lazy, whatever.
It's why I don't tend to open up to people. I can know someone for years and they'll not know a thing about me, because I don't say what I want to because I don't think they'd care enough to listen. It'd be harder for me to believe if every time I tried to say something that I honestly believed in or thought, people wouldn't just ignore me, talk over me, or just not pay attention, then later say the exact same thing I just did, and not give me the credit for it. Which hurts. A lot.
I'd like to think the girl I've called my best friend for the past two years (almost three now) listens to me. But sometimes I think she gets an idea in her head, and is too stubborn to actually listen to what I really mean. Now, there's nothing wrong with that, since as I've mentioned SEVERAL times in these few paragraphs, I'm used to it, lots of people do it, nothing to be ashamed of. But it still hurts. And it's even worse because no one will ever let me explain what I really mean. It takes me so long to sort through my thoughts and emotions that I can't actually hold a conversation with people, unless it's via text (either email, or texting) and no one will wait for me. I feel like I'm being left behind in the conversation, in my life, in my relationships.
I'm losing hope on ever finding anyone who will listen to what I have to say and actually give me real feedback on what I'm telling them, as opposed to just responding to what they think I've said. No one asks me questions, they just assume they know what I'm thinking. I'm not that easy to read. and no one really knows me.
It's hard, but I'm coming to terms with it. I mean, I've lived with it for 20 years. Might as well get used to it now, right?
And no one thinks I'm smart enough to have my own thoughts and opinions. I'm not always well educated on the subject at hand, and that very often comes across, but people assume that because I don't know one subject, I don't know anything and they try and tell me how to live my life based on what they would do, because they don't think I can manage myself.
Which is dumb, because as far as I can tell, I'm probably the most put together person I know. So my room's a disaster and I rarely remember to (or care about) feed(ing) myself. I pay my bills on time, I do okay in school and I'm always at work when I need to be there, unless I'm not feeling well. And even at that point, I still try and do my job until I realize I just can't handle it when I'm ill. I don't reach out to people because I'm worried they won't be reaching back.
And isn't that a key to my locked mind. I've holed myself behind my walls because no one ever did reach out to me. Any time anyone reaches out to me, I reach back to them. And they're always grateful. But when I reach, no one ever even looks. No one cares. And it sucks. The only friendship in my life that I thought was worth something, she reached out to me first.
I don't lead a bad life. I have a great life. I love my job, and I love the people I work with, my family is wonderful and supportive, I have a friend, I have several friends...but no one knows me. No one even bothers to try and learn.
I can't talk to anyone because I just end up making them feel bad too. And that guilts me into feeling worse, so I don't tell anyone what's on my mind in fear that they'll be brought down, too. Most of the time, I can be quite happy and cheerful. I've learned to ignore that people don't care, simply because I do. I care a lot. And that will most of the time over power this feeling of no one caring back. And for the most part, people seem to like that about me. But they don't care.
And that's really really painful, when I let it get to me. Like I am now.
Don't worry, I'll probably be fine by tomorrow. We'll blame my menstrual cycle. It's always a good excuse when I'm being sensitive to this. Because I do have it under control. I just feel lonely sometimes. And it makes me sad, but I've gotten so used to it. I've been alone for ever. Even when I thought I wasn't, I still was. And maybe one day, God will send the right person who will listen and care into my life, but that's still a long way off, I feel. And that's fine. I'm a patient person for the most part. I've waited this long. What's another 20 years?
Until Next Time, Dear Readers,
Me.
Friday, May 4, 2012
It Took Me 45 Minutes to Recover This Morning
If you need to know one thing about me, it's that I have ridiculously crazy dreams on a regular basis. I've HAD crazy dreams since before I can remember. Let me put it to you this way, that strange, blacked-out drunk/totally high all night dream you had last night that was way in-depth with multiple plotlines you couldn't remember and was horribly horribly graphic with some adult rated content in it? Yeah that's my "regular". If I get to remember my dreams.
So I had one my regular dreams last night. Admittedly it was decidedly slightly more involved and intense than usual. When I woke up from it, my heart was racing and my adrenaline was pumping. It took me 45 minutes of just laying in my bed to settle down enough to turn on the light, turn down the ac, get some food, and watch an episode of My Little Pony. I'm still not completely settled down yet, which is why I'm writing this now.
I'm not going to tell you about my dream. I've tried a hundred different ways to explain the strangeness of them away. I'm settling on I'm legitimately complete crazy and I've either got everyone else completely fooled or I'm locked away and don't realize it yet. One way or the other, I'm just nuts and I'm going to have to get over this fact.
Man, if this doesn't scare away the potential suitors (or, conversely, bring about the ones I don't particularly care to have again) I don't know what will...
But yeah. I've had crazy dreams since I can remember my dreams. Some of them can be related to things I'll have done the day or in the days before. Sometimes it's quite obviously a dream I've had before. Sometimes it's a memory of a place. Sometimes it's something I've never seen before, with pain or sensations I've never had before. Sometimes they're graphic. By which I mean people with swords through their pelvises or a native american attacks with tomahawks.
(The tomahawk thing was last night actually. Right after the ride on the ridiculously small and quickly filling up with water colonial boat. They were attacking each other and not anyone else. Warring tribes, you know? And something about an angler fish. But really when a tomahawk goes through a child's skull [or something the size of a child, I'm not entirely sure] and there's a lot of blood coming out of the wound? Yeah...that's more graphic than usual, I'll admit)
So yeah...that's pretty much what I've been doing this morning. Trying to recover. There are many parts about the dream you haven't gotten. Trust me. This is only a sampling of LAST NIGHT.
We'll see if this continues. Any time it takes me what I feel is too long to recover, I'll probably write about it. But yeah, legitimately crazy over here. Don't worry too much about it.
So I had one my regular dreams last night. Admittedly it was decidedly slightly more involved and intense than usual. When I woke up from it, my heart was racing and my adrenaline was pumping. It took me 45 minutes of just laying in my bed to settle down enough to turn on the light, turn down the ac, get some food, and watch an episode of My Little Pony. I'm still not completely settled down yet, which is why I'm writing this now.
I'm not going to tell you about my dream. I've tried a hundred different ways to explain the strangeness of them away. I'm settling on I'm legitimately complete crazy and I've either got everyone else completely fooled or I'm locked away and don't realize it yet. One way or the other, I'm just nuts and I'm going to have to get over this fact.
Man, if this doesn't scare away the potential suitors (or, conversely, bring about the ones I don't particularly care to have again) I don't know what will...
But yeah. I've had crazy dreams since I can remember my dreams. Some of them can be related to things I'll have done the day or in the days before. Sometimes it's quite obviously a dream I've had before. Sometimes it's a memory of a place. Sometimes it's something I've never seen before, with pain or sensations I've never had before. Sometimes they're graphic. By which I mean people with swords through their pelvises or a native american attacks with tomahawks.
(The tomahawk thing was last night actually. Right after the ride on the ridiculously small and quickly filling up with water colonial boat. They were attacking each other and not anyone else. Warring tribes, you know? And something about an angler fish. But really when a tomahawk goes through a child's skull [or something the size of a child, I'm not entirely sure] and there's a lot of blood coming out of the wound? Yeah...that's more graphic than usual, I'll admit)
So yeah...that's pretty much what I've been doing this morning. Trying to recover. There are many parts about the dream you haven't gotten. Trust me. This is only a sampling of LAST NIGHT.
We'll see if this continues. Any time it takes me what I feel is too long to recover, I'll probably write about it. But yeah, legitimately crazy over here. Don't worry too much about it.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Do you remember...
...The post And Now for Something Completely Different), wherein I mentioned that I was secretly attractive and it was only a matter of time before the fellas at church noticed how secretly attractive I was by my revealing a minor dorky tidbit about myself? And how they'd then fall about me like flies?
Muwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
I have become the evil secret genius of secret attractiveness.
No, no no!! I have to be good, I have to use my powers for good, not evil! Think Spiderman! Think Spiderman! "With great power comes great responsibility." Come on, you can do this Michelle...
Okay, I think I've got the evil scientist holed up in her laboratory for now.
But the statement still stands that I have finally come out as not-so-secretly-attractive-anymore to the churchy boys. And oh how the mighty have fallen, she says with an evil smirk.
Damn it, why the hell won't she stay put away?! Go work on your egg!!
Oh but that's no fun. Wouldn't you rather plot and scheme to get lovely boys from church things interested in you? You already look cute for the college group thing tonight...You could make an effort...You could try and get Biology Guy to go out with you...
MMm...yeahhhh...that would be kind of ni---ARGH! No! Good, not evil. I must wait until the opportune moment, you know there are plans in the works, you will not mess with them!!
Fine, have it your way. I'll just go slink off, sexily, into my lab and brood, sexily, over the lost chances with boys, because Miss Prissy Michelle is going to go all awkward old lady and chicken out, again.
I won't. I won't chicken out. I have a plan, and it will be executed!
Anyway, disregard the argument with my sexy evil genius side.
So yes, I let on to the lovely fellas at church that I want to become a bartender. And instantly, I was attractive and popular. The most attractive of them (it's only in my head, and none of them will ever know I've rated them in attractiveness levels ever) were all about it, and then one of the most attractive ones asked about me the next week.
A slow, calculating, smoldering look appeared on her face, as she thought about the implications of having a boy asking about her.
Shoo! Shoooooooooo!!!!!
Damn italicized font-voice.
Anyway, it's taken me a week to get around to this post, mostly because I didn't want to double post on you guys, and also because I've been busy and forgot about it. Thus, my sexy evil genius has had time to brood on the matter in my subconscious. She's being really obnoxious about it, too, since she knows my penchant for daydreaming, and uses it to her advantage.
I'm refusing to daydream about actual boys until something concrete happens. Mostly because I have this fear that if I want something too much, it won't happen.
But I'm working on that.
Until Next Time, Dear Readers
Me
Muwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
I have become the evil secret genius of secret attractiveness.
No, no no!! I have to be good, I have to use my powers for good, not evil! Think Spiderman! Think Spiderman! "With great power comes great responsibility." Come on, you can do this Michelle...
Okay, I think I've got the evil scientist holed up in her laboratory for now.
But the statement still stands that I have finally come out as not-so-secretly-attractive-anymore to the churchy boys. And oh how the mighty have fallen, she says with an evil smirk.
Damn it, why the hell won't she stay put away?! Go work on your egg!!
Oh but that's no fun. Wouldn't you rather plot and scheme to get lovely boys from church things interested in you? You already look cute for the college group thing tonight...You could make an effort...You could try and get Biology Guy to go out with you...
MMm...yeahhhh...that would be kind of ni---ARGH! No! Good, not evil. I must wait until the opportune moment, you know there are plans in the works, you will not mess with them!!
Fine, have it your way. I'll just go slink off, sexily, into my lab and brood, sexily, over the lost chances with boys, because Miss Prissy Michelle is going to go all awkward old lady and chicken out, again.
I won't. I won't chicken out. I have a plan, and it will be executed!
Anyway, disregard the argument with my sexy evil genius side.
So yes, I let on to the lovely fellas at church that I want to become a bartender. And instantly, I was attractive and popular. The most attractive of them (it's only in my head, and none of them will ever know I've rated them in attractiveness levels ever) were all about it, and then one of the most attractive ones asked about me the next week.
A slow, calculating, smoldering look appeared on her face, as she thought about the implications of having a boy asking about her.
Shoo! Shoooooooooo!!!!!
Damn italicized font-voice.
Anyway, it's taken me a week to get around to this post, mostly because I didn't want to double post on you guys, and also because I've been busy and forgot about it. Thus, my sexy evil genius has had time to brood on the matter in my subconscious. She's being really obnoxious about it, too, since she knows my penchant for daydreaming, and uses it to her advantage.
I'm refusing to daydream about actual boys until something concrete happens. Mostly because I have this fear that if I want something too much, it won't happen.
But I'm working on that.
Until Next Time, Dear Readers
Me
Monday, February 20, 2012
Four Hours Well Spent
So, you wanna know what I spent the last four hours doing?
Sorting out my bookmarks bar. Even then, I only got through one and a half of my folders, and I still need to weed out lots of old links but at least I've got my Web Comics folder narrowed down to what I like the most, and I've sorted my Fanfic folder so that everything's in the proper category so I can find the ones I like quicker.
I still have four folders to go through, as well as that bad-link finding I have to do...But I deserve a break at this point, so I'm going to cook lunch, watch some youtube until I'm bored, then I will utilize my new system in my fanfic folder and read some of those. Probably I'll get on World of Warcraft at some point, then I'll procrastinate on writing chapter 10 of my fanfiction some more and do anything but that, then probably a shower, and maybe by then I'll know if my boss still wants me to come in to work tomorrow, or if he thinks I should have a snow day.
You know, keep it simple and stuff.
Just wanted something to post that wasn't quite so dull and dreary for once, and since it's been a while since I actually posted anything I wrote, here you go.
Until Next Time, Dear Readers
Me
Sorting out my bookmarks bar. Even then, I only got through one and a half of my folders, and I still need to weed out lots of old links but at least I've got my Web Comics folder narrowed down to what I like the most, and I've sorted my Fanfic folder so that everything's in the proper category so I can find the ones I like quicker.
I still have four folders to go through, as well as that bad-link finding I have to do...But I deserve a break at this point, so I'm going to cook lunch, watch some youtube until I'm bored, then I will utilize my new system in my fanfic folder and read some of those. Probably I'll get on World of Warcraft at some point, then I'll procrastinate on writing chapter 10 of my fanfiction some more and do anything but that, then probably a shower, and maybe by then I'll know if my boss still wants me to come in to work tomorrow, or if he thinks I should have a snow day.
You know, keep it simple and stuff.
Just wanted something to post that wasn't quite so dull and dreary for once, and since it's been a while since I actually posted anything I wrote, here you go.
Until Next Time, Dear Readers
Me
Monday, January 23, 2012
Feelings of Inadequacy...
Okay, okay, I know what you're thinking "oh no, she's going into another woebegone sob story about how she doesn't feel like she matters". You're only half right.
I start with my feelings of inadequacy. I've always felt like I was fairly easily forgettable. I didn't feel like I made much of an impact in anyone's day. Hell, I didn't think I'd made much of an impact in anyone's life. Certainly not the way most people made an impact on me. Sure I had fantasies of grandeur and of people remembering who I was years and years and years after we'd all lost touch, but they were simply fantasies that had no basis in reality, I thought.
You know that plotline from "It's a Wonderful Life" where the main character feels as though everything would have been better if they'd never been born? Then they're proven wrong, and shown how everything would actually be worse if they'd never been around, blah blah blah. I always wondered what the world would have been like without me, and you know what, I can't see it being overly affected. Hell, it might even be better for some people. I dunno.
This isn't to say I'm going to try something stupid, since I've been around of course people care about me and wouldn't want anything to happen, but if they'd never known me...what would that have been like?
Augh, point. I had a point, this isn't just me rambling, I swear. (okay, it's me rambling, but I am trying to get somewhere).
But anyway, I've been learning recently that I am actually remembered by people who knew me way back when, &c, &c, &c. They don't know it, but saying "oh we miss having you around" or "I'm so glad you're here" makes a world of difference in my day. It's nice not to be overlooked sometimes. I know it happens a lot. (I'm not exactly noticeable, visually or intellectually. I don't really make much of an impression, if I make one at all. I'm not outgoing or vivacious or anything exciting. I don't do much with my time, I'm working on a BUSINESS Degree for Christ's sake. That's one of the more boring degrees, right next to Accounting and Finance. I don't go out, I don't party, I don't know lots of people with lots of connections, I don't really hang out with many people outside of a close circle that consists of mostly my family and a couple others. I'm an introvert with shy tendencies. I connect more to inanimate objects than I do to people. I know I'm not exactly the most interesting person on the planet.)
But every now and again, it's nice to hear that you've been remembered. (I suppose Inadequacy wasn't quite the right word, but it rolls so nicely off the tongue/brain, that I can't really bring myself to change it.)
I hope that's plenty of parenthetical notes for you guys. I swear, The Princess Bride is going to rub off on my writing style, and I'm not sure if it's going to be a good thing or a bad thing...
I think that's where I'll leave it, with me saying that, despite my boring-ness, I still sometimes get noticed, and that makes me feel good.
Until Next Time, Dear Readers,
Me
I start with my feelings of inadequacy. I've always felt like I was fairly easily forgettable. I didn't feel like I made much of an impact in anyone's day. Hell, I didn't think I'd made much of an impact in anyone's life. Certainly not the way most people made an impact on me. Sure I had fantasies of grandeur and of people remembering who I was years and years and years after we'd all lost touch, but they were simply fantasies that had no basis in reality, I thought.
You know that plotline from "It's a Wonderful Life" where the main character feels as though everything would have been better if they'd never been born? Then they're proven wrong, and shown how everything would actually be worse if they'd never been around, blah blah blah. I always wondered what the world would have been like without me, and you know what, I can't see it being overly affected. Hell, it might even be better for some people. I dunno.
This isn't to say I'm going to try something stupid, since I've been around of course people care about me and wouldn't want anything to happen, but if they'd never known me...what would that have been like?
Augh, point. I had a point, this isn't just me rambling, I swear. (okay, it's me rambling, but I am trying to get somewhere).
But anyway, I've been learning recently that I am actually remembered by people who knew me way back when, &c, &c, &c. They don't know it, but saying "oh we miss having you around" or "I'm so glad you're here" makes a world of difference in my day. It's nice not to be overlooked sometimes. I know it happens a lot. (I'm not exactly noticeable, visually or intellectually. I don't really make much of an impression, if I make one at all. I'm not outgoing or vivacious or anything exciting. I don't do much with my time, I'm working on a BUSINESS Degree for Christ's sake. That's one of the more boring degrees, right next to Accounting and Finance. I don't go out, I don't party, I don't know lots of people with lots of connections, I don't really hang out with many people outside of a close circle that consists of mostly my family and a couple others. I'm an introvert with shy tendencies. I connect more to inanimate objects than I do to people. I know I'm not exactly the most interesting person on the planet.)
But every now and again, it's nice to hear that you've been remembered. (I suppose Inadequacy wasn't quite the right word, but it rolls so nicely off the tongue/brain, that I can't really bring myself to change it.)
I hope that's plenty of parenthetical notes for you guys. I swear, The Princess Bride is going to rub off on my writing style, and I'm not sure if it's going to be a good thing or a bad thing...
I think that's where I'll leave it, with me saying that, despite my boring-ness, I still sometimes get noticed, and that makes me feel good.
Until Next Time, Dear Readers,
Me
Thursday, January 5, 2012
There are very few times
Where I would choose to be proven wrong. They come few and far between. I'll admit it, I like being right. It rarely happens, and usually it happens on one of the few occasions where I'd prefer to have been proven wrong.
I don't handle disappointment very well.
I just hate having been a poor judge of character. All along, I thought, for some strange reason, that all my fears would be for naught and that everything would be okay. That people would end up proving themselves to me.
I might be getting used to disappointment, despite it all.
My Mawmaw's funeral is on Saturday. I've managed to get off work, and I'll be heading that way with my family tomorrow morning.
I really wish I'd been wrong. I wish...I wish for a lot of things, but as wise men might tell you, wish in one hand and shit in the other and see which gets filled first.
I'll give you a hint, it's not the wish hand.
Which, actually is a nice segue into a related thought. I find myself getting shat on more and more often as of late. Which, quite frankly, sucks. There's a shit stick, one end is clean and for holding and the other end is covered in shit. I'm stuck between layers of shit on the shitty end of that stick, and it's getting beat into more shit.
Do you see where I might be going with this? I'm starting to.
And the biggest problem is I'll never confront anyone about my getting shat on by them because by the time I think up a relevant, cutting remark to make them see what they're doing to me, the situation is long past, and my point is moot.
And here I thought I was making progress...HA! I crack myself up.
Until Next Time, dear readers
Me...
I don't handle disappointment very well.
I just hate having been a poor judge of character. All along, I thought, for some strange reason, that all my fears would be for naught and that everything would be okay. That people would end up proving themselves to me.
I might be getting used to disappointment, despite it all.
My Mawmaw's funeral is on Saturday. I've managed to get off work, and I'll be heading that way with my family tomorrow morning.
I really wish I'd been wrong. I wish...I wish for a lot of things, but as wise men might tell you, wish in one hand and shit in the other and see which gets filled first.
I'll give you a hint, it's not the wish hand.
Which, actually is a nice segue into a related thought. I find myself getting shat on more and more often as of late. Which, quite frankly, sucks. There's a shit stick, one end is clean and for holding and the other end is covered in shit. I'm stuck between layers of shit on the shitty end of that stick, and it's getting beat into more shit.
Do you see where I might be going with this? I'm starting to.
And the biggest problem is I'll never confront anyone about my getting shat on by them because by the time I think up a relevant, cutting remark to make them see what they're doing to me, the situation is long past, and my point is moot.
And here I thought I was making progress...HA! I crack myself up.
Until Next Time, dear readers
Me...
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