I like the new blogger buttons. they're sleek and sexy.
I also like the new blogger banner type template thing. It looks like an electrified "B" and there's engineering type graph paper designed in blue?
I don't like not having any cash. I want 2 dollar cause I've been craving a snapple for weeks.
More lists to come later.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Small Town Girl
In a day, at the office, I'd say we get far more non-calls than actual calls. A non-call is when there's no one on the line.
In a day, at the office, I can watch more youtube videos, read more tabloid blogs, read more magazines and movie/music reviews, and update my blog more often than I can do work.
I still feel productive.
Have you ever felt like you were in a slump in life? cause you worked at a dead end job filled with dead end people doing dead end tasks? That were high high stress level, barely livable wage, and imprisoning you with guilt? And on top of all of that, you lived and fought constantly with your parents (like you're in high school again), did nothing worth living for in the evenings (like high school again), and complained about your life every second (like high school again)? Have you ever hated your life and your job every day for a month and made a list of all the things you want to buy to console yourself? Only not to be paid, again, and put your bank account even further into the negative?
I really don't feel productive.
I feel like I'm getting old. Like time is flying by and I'm not keeping up. Where do the days go?
Every day I've woken up thinking it was a different day that it's been. Monday, I thought should be sunday. Tuesday I thought it was wednesday, wednesday I thought it was thursday. And this morning (and still right now, actually) I feel like it really truly is friday.
What am I doing today? What am I doing tomorrow? I'm so sick of coming to work here. I'm so sick of bringing family life to work life and work life to family life. I'm so sick of being guilted to work every day and not paid.
I feel like a townie. The one thing I didn't want to be my whole life.
In a day, at the office, I can watch more youtube videos, read more tabloid blogs, read more magazines and movie/music reviews, and update my blog more often than I can do work.
I still feel productive.
Have you ever felt like you were in a slump in life? cause you worked at a dead end job filled with dead end people doing dead end tasks? That were high high stress level, barely livable wage, and imprisoning you with guilt? And on top of all of that, you lived and fought constantly with your parents (like you're in high school again), did nothing worth living for in the evenings (like high school again), and complained about your life every second (like high school again)? Have you ever hated your life and your job every day for a month and made a list of all the things you want to buy to console yourself? Only not to be paid, again, and put your bank account even further into the negative?
I really don't feel productive.
I feel like I'm getting old. Like time is flying by and I'm not keeping up. Where do the days go?
Every day I've woken up thinking it was a different day that it's been. Monday, I thought should be sunday. Tuesday I thought it was wednesday, wednesday I thought it was thursday. And this morning (and still right now, actually) I feel like it really truly is friday.
What am I doing today? What am I doing tomorrow? I'm so sick of coming to work here. I'm so sick of bringing family life to work life and work life to family life. I'm so sick of being guilted to work every day and not paid.
I feel like a townie. The one thing I didn't want to be my whole life.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
The Unbearable Existance
Am I blogging too much lately? I think it's my normal summer hobby.
My favorite thing about classical music are the quiet, softly played moments. It sounds like the most graceful of wings beating in blinding sunlight. It makes me feel as if my very heart and soul is pressing against the walls of my body to be freed and closer to infinite abyss of monumental silence. It leaves me breathless, makes me feel alive.
As the music heightened and climaxed I read
The Unbearable Lightness of Being.
which questions, why is somethign considered negative? And its opposite positive?
Is there true badness in being bad?
What is betrayal and fidelity? What is it to be a woman? To respect? And what does it mean to see?
I've always wondered, How much do I really hide from myself? What do I see that truly exists? What do we hide behind our closed eyes?
What music have we refused to hear?
My favorite thing about classical music are the quiet, softly played moments. It sounds like the most graceful of wings beating in blinding sunlight. It makes me feel as if my very heart and soul is pressing against the walls of my body to be freed and closer to infinite abyss of monumental silence. It leaves me breathless, makes me feel alive.
As the music heightened and climaxed I read
The Unbearable Lightness of Being.
which questions, why is somethign considered negative? And its opposite positive?
Is there true badness in being bad?
What is betrayal and fidelity? What is it to be a woman? To respect? And what does it mean to see?
I've always wondered, How much do I really hide from myself? What do I see that truly exists? What do we hide behind our closed eyes?
What music have we refused to hear?
Monday, July 7, 2008
We only get one...
I don't know if everyone knows this but... I work in a relatively ghetto kind of place. I mean, we're no tenderloin or east palo alto or anything... But there's a fair share of skeeves out in this part of Daly City.
In my mind Daly City is made up of asian FOBs, wannabe thug kids, crack heads who smoke right outside our door, and Teen moms that make their poor little kids pee on walls in public. This may be an unfair assumption for ALL of daly city but the neighborhood our office is in? It's all too true.
And I consider myself a relatively conservative dresser, especially for work. I admit, sometimes my shirts are lower than they need to be but I would never consider myself showy or slutty or provocative. My skirts are all knee length or lower, after all.
And honestly, while I have the vanity and confidence to know that I'm not drop dead ugly and, depending on the observer could easily be considered attractive (rather than unattractive).
All of this together means that I somehow get constantly checked out at work. And NOT in the way thats complimentary. In the grossest way possible. Just thinking about it my face cringes with disgust. Old men that go to the liquor store next door at 9 in the morning will do a full 360 to watch me walk by. Crackheads whistle as I leave my car. Stock boys from teh grocery store next door make beckoning lip snaps at me.
Once this relatively young guy, maybe like 15 - 17, walked by the office door, saw me, and literally seriously walked in. How awkward and strange is that? He opens the office door into our reception area, looks around confusedly like he's entered some sort of twilight universe where everyone is dressed in slacks and button up shirts, and goes, "uhmm... .. .. . . . hey...." To which I give my best disdainful eyebrow cocked and ask "Yes? May I help you?" And he proceeds to ask if I have a boyfriend. bleeecccchhhhh.
Gross fest.
And you may be wondering, what prompts this blog here and now? We've got a lot of construction guys that work for us to fix homes, renovate, install various marbles, carpets, plumbing, and electric. All of these guys used to be close family friends that would never dare to look at me like that.
But since they've gone we have an ever changing line up of guys coming in to get paid, look for supplies, or plug various drills in... And this sign guy just came in. With a name like Wesley.
And he DEVOURED me with his eyes. I did my best to ignore it but I just got so flustered. And then he asks how old I am. He's actually not that bad looking and not horribly gross and old, so if anything this is the biggest complimentary check out i've gotten, but still, disarming nonetheless. I don't know how old I am! Uhm... 21?
"Wow, you're 21? that old, huh?"
(awkward laugh from me.)
(obvious check out and like, jaw/lip/tounge movement) "How many boyfriends you got?" (complete with head tilt like 'sup' and bared animal teeth)
And me, the idiot that I am, turn red (it happens to brown people too), look around nervously, slam my brain for the appropriate answer and say "Not enough." The MOST inapproproate answer, in fact.
Panic sets in, "no, well, I mean, enough. I have more than enough."
doh.
He finishes his business in regards to electrical cords and hours and signs, and leaves, with a departing look of beastliness.
The real point of all of this, is, is it so bad to expect that all sexual personalities be checked at the work door? Am I naive to hope that once in the office place, with my work face on, that no one will make skeevy faces and innuendo and off hand looks? That no one will ask how many boyfriends I have so I can get SO caught off gaurd and flustered as to give the completely wrong answer.
I have one, by the way. One and only one.
Is that really so much to ask?
In my mind Daly City is made up of asian FOBs, wannabe thug kids, crack heads who smoke right outside our door, and Teen moms that make their poor little kids pee on walls in public. This may be an unfair assumption for ALL of daly city but the neighborhood our office is in? It's all too true.
And I consider myself a relatively conservative dresser, especially for work. I admit, sometimes my shirts are lower than they need to be but I would never consider myself showy or slutty or provocative. My skirts are all knee length or lower, after all.
And honestly, while I have the vanity and confidence to know that I'm not drop dead ugly and, depending on the observer could easily be considered attractive (rather than unattractive).
All of this together means that I somehow get constantly checked out at work. And NOT in the way thats complimentary. In the grossest way possible. Just thinking about it my face cringes with disgust. Old men that go to the liquor store next door at 9 in the morning will do a full 360 to watch me walk by. Crackheads whistle as I leave my car. Stock boys from teh grocery store next door make beckoning lip snaps at me.
Once this relatively young guy, maybe like 15 - 17, walked by the office door, saw me, and literally seriously walked in. How awkward and strange is that? He opens the office door into our reception area, looks around confusedly like he's entered some sort of twilight universe where everyone is dressed in slacks and button up shirts, and goes, "uhmm... .. .. . . . hey...." To which I give my best disdainful eyebrow cocked and ask "Yes? May I help you?" And he proceeds to ask if I have a boyfriend. bleeecccchhhhh.
Gross fest.
And you may be wondering, what prompts this blog here and now? We've got a lot of construction guys that work for us to fix homes, renovate, install various marbles, carpets, plumbing, and electric. All of these guys used to be close family friends that would never dare to look at me like that.
But since they've gone we have an ever changing line up of guys coming in to get paid, look for supplies, or plug various drills in... And this sign guy just came in. With a name like Wesley.
And he DEVOURED me with his eyes. I did my best to ignore it but I just got so flustered. And then he asks how old I am. He's actually not that bad looking and not horribly gross and old, so if anything this is the biggest complimentary check out i've gotten, but still, disarming nonetheless. I don't know how old I am! Uhm... 21?
"Wow, you're 21? that old, huh?"
(awkward laugh from me.)
(obvious check out and like, jaw/lip/tounge movement) "How many boyfriends you got?" (complete with head tilt like 'sup' and bared animal teeth)
And me, the idiot that I am, turn red (it happens to brown people too), look around nervously, slam my brain for the appropriate answer and say "Not enough." The MOST inapproproate answer, in fact.
Panic sets in, "no, well, I mean, enough. I have more than enough."
doh.
He finishes his business in regards to electrical cords and hours and signs, and leaves, with a departing look of beastliness.
The real point of all of this, is, is it so bad to expect that all sexual personalities be checked at the work door? Am I naive to hope that once in the office place, with my work face on, that no one will make skeevy faces and innuendo and off hand looks? That no one will ask how many boyfriends I have so I can get SO caught off gaurd and flustered as to give the completely wrong answer.
I have one, by the way. One and only one.
Is that really so much to ask?
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Keeping it in the family...
Reasons I hate working in a family business:
- There's no reason to be polite, like a normal office. All bets are off, everyone is their normal selves and horribly bitchy.
- I live with my family, I thought that was hard enough. It's like 24 hours of my parents. Can you imagine being with your parents for 24 hours, 5 days a week?
- Whenever anyone is in a bad mood, slightly irritable, or PMSing, its taken out on ME. Why? Because I bother them at home and I bother them at work.
- You'd think you'd be allowed more leisure or luxury while working with family, while in fact, because there's no restrictions with family, I'm worked 10 times worse with even HIGHER standards. (something along the lines of, well, I raised you and taught you to be the best, therefore be the best 24 hours a day in my realm of domination).
- I get paid shit money. I mean... Shit money. For what I do? It's barely a living wage.
- I get paid shit money AND they don't pay me on time. They pay the unrelateds on time. But daughters? they can wait.
- Have you ever been nagged in the workplace? Or at home by your parents? Multiply that by like 9 trillion. I'm taking a nap in my room and someone's screaching about some file or other that I know I did but THEY lost. Or being at work, peacefully filing or typing and getting a super bitch 'Did you clean your room yet?!" YEA MOM. YEA I DID CLEAN MY ROOM NOW LEAVE ME THE F ALONE!
- And probably worst of all (other than being undependably paid nickels and dimes) is that I can't deal with the stress of knowing everyones business. I wouldn't care about how someone handles the finances of their own business or their own life... but these are my PARENTS. this is my family. I'm not allowed the comfort of distance from the troubles that are flooding the market. The stress... It's to here. It's unbearable.
Thank god it's a 3 day weekend.
I need a new fucking job.
Crazies
When I'm really depressed and making myself crazy.
I have to remind myself to just wait it out, cause usually, in two to three days time it lets up. Today I think I'm having a good day, no matter what.
On other hands... Hives are funny things. So is not havnig health insurance. The constant weighing of, "Well, I know my health is bad but... Is it worth it? Should I somehow stock pile illnesses, go to the doctor all at once, and save money? Do I need to go now? Will this kill me? Can I wait? How long can I wait? Will they be useful for once (the doctors)?"
And, to completely change the subject...
Have you ever... put someone in "The Friend Zone" because it was just so far off your mind to consider them in "that" way that you never did? and then like 4 years later everyone who knew (cause apparently everyone but you knew) filled you in that a so-and-so was probably infatuated if not in totally loke with you? I hesitate to say love because I'm a firm believer that you can't LOVE someone without knowing them completely. So maybe it was loke, that inbetween of like and love. Something I've been referring to since I was 13, on the phone at 4 am with a boy chubbier than I was skinny as hell. Loke. Well, I guess you could be absolutely in love with a friend and never let on. Is that love? is it infautation? Is it real? Is it loke? Is it like that sort of silly, sleeplessness induced, childish flirtation kind of feeling?
Well, either way, like 4 years later you're filled in on a something-something that a someone-someone had for you. And its not like I would have acted on it if I had known... But maybe I could have been more sensitive to the subject? Not that I like, used and abused... him... I was his friend. He was my friend. I treated him like a friend. How was I supposed to know it went beyond that? And as I got deeper in my relationship and the friendship itself greatly waned, how was I supposed to know to connect the two? These 4 years later I've tried to remember each an every one of our interactions, were there clues that I didn't pick up on? I don't remember any. He used to give me piggy back rides? Was that a sign? Why didn't he ever say? Was he afraid? Was I intimidating?
And the one time that something very clearly more than friends happened... Was that the moment? Like in a movie the moment when the love finally clicks into place, and they have that blissful, perfect love scene... Was that our moment? When there was a moment of tender quietness, monumental silence, if you will. Maybe not the act itself, was it the act itself? But the small things that happened after? Was that supposed to tip me off? I think it did in some small way. But it was so... mixed. And then I progressed the story (rather than it stopping there for a happily ever after) by turning away?
But then I have to re-evaluate, was I really the one that turned away? Didn't he not call me for like two weeks after? Isn't that a very clear and obvious global sign of "I don't want to be with you and as friends we crossed a line we shouldn't have and now I'm staying clear?" Cause that's what I took it as a sign of. And then I concreted a line to create a wall with a certain message saying something like "that was nothing, right? we're still cool, right? I don't have to worry, right? ... You won't tell anyone, right?" And he sent one back with an, "Of course everything is alright. Sydney, you can trust me. I wouldn't do that to you.'' Was that reassurance the sign? No, he didn't call. He didn't make any move. Yes, maybe I was blind, but can you blame me when there was nothing obvious to see?
Someone told me that maybe that 2 week silence was there because he was scared. Because he was so in love, and I was the next big thing of his life and he was scared. hell, that's not my fault.
He had 2 years to make some sort of notice that I was a "different" friend but we had a normal friend relationship. And then that "thing" "happened." He had two weeks to react. And even then he could have said something other than "whatever you say, whatever makes you happy."
Because after that moment I didn't think of him with any conflict or controversy for two years.
And then someone wants to see someone at a party and say my name and react with sadness and everyone say no one talks about sydney because she broke his heart and then someone tells me that. WHY WOULD YOU TELL ME THAT?! How was I supposed to know? How?
Maybe that's what all of this is... I cared about him, in a very sincere way. He was my friend. And he was right, I could trust him and maybe I made the mistake of putting him in the friend zone. And then maybe when I was told that I broke his heart, somewhere deep inside of me I knew it could be a very valid truth. And I wish it weren't. I wish I had known at the time. I didn't want to hurt him. I didn't want to be that one girl that got away.
But I really feel as if there's no way I could have known. I didn't suspect. Hell, I think I even thought he was so far out of my league that he wouldn't consider ME. But maybe there's a chance I had that wrong.
I wish, even now, these 4 years later, he could tell me. He could tell me so I could tell him how sorry I really am. I'm sorry I hurt him. I'm sorry.
I have to remind myself to just wait it out, cause usually, in two to three days time it lets up. Today I think I'm having a good day, no matter what.
On other hands... Hives are funny things. So is not havnig health insurance. The constant weighing of, "Well, I know my health is bad but... Is it worth it? Should I somehow stock pile illnesses, go to the doctor all at once, and save money? Do I need to go now? Will this kill me? Can I wait? How long can I wait? Will they be useful for once (the doctors)?"
And, to completely change the subject...
Have you ever... put someone in "The Friend Zone" because it was just so far off your mind to consider them in "that" way that you never did? and then like 4 years later everyone who knew (cause apparently everyone but you knew) filled you in that a so-and-so was probably infatuated if not in totally loke with you? I hesitate to say love because I'm a firm believer that you can't LOVE someone without knowing them completely. So maybe it was loke, that inbetween of like and love. Something I've been referring to since I was 13, on the phone at 4 am with a boy chubbier than I was skinny as hell. Loke. Well, I guess you could be absolutely in love with a friend and never let on. Is that love? is it infautation? Is it real? Is it loke? Is it like that sort of silly, sleeplessness induced, childish flirtation kind of feeling?
Well, either way, like 4 years later you're filled in on a something-something that a someone-someone had for you. And its not like I would have acted on it if I had known... But maybe I could have been more sensitive to the subject? Not that I like, used and abused... him... I was his friend. He was my friend. I treated him like a friend. How was I supposed to know it went beyond that? And as I got deeper in my relationship and the friendship itself greatly waned, how was I supposed to know to connect the two? These 4 years later I've tried to remember each an every one of our interactions, were there clues that I didn't pick up on? I don't remember any. He used to give me piggy back rides? Was that a sign? Why didn't he ever say? Was he afraid? Was I intimidating?
And the one time that something very clearly more than friends happened... Was that the moment? Like in a movie the moment when the love finally clicks into place, and they have that blissful, perfect love scene... Was that our moment? When there was a moment of tender quietness, monumental silence, if you will. Maybe not the act itself, was it the act itself? But the small things that happened after? Was that supposed to tip me off? I think it did in some small way. But it was so... mixed. And then I progressed the story (rather than it stopping there for a happily ever after) by turning away?
But then I have to re-evaluate, was I really the one that turned away? Didn't he not call me for like two weeks after? Isn't that a very clear and obvious global sign of "I don't want to be with you and as friends we crossed a line we shouldn't have and now I'm staying clear?" Cause that's what I took it as a sign of. And then I concreted a line to create a wall with a certain message saying something like "that was nothing, right? we're still cool, right? I don't have to worry, right? ... You won't tell anyone, right?" And he sent one back with an, "Of course everything is alright. Sydney, you can trust me. I wouldn't do that to you.'' Was that reassurance the sign? No, he didn't call. He didn't make any move. Yes, maybe I was blind, but can you blame me when there was nothing obvious to see?
Someone told me that maybe that 2 week silence was there because he was scared. Because he was so in love, and I was the next big thing of his life and he was scared. hell, that's not my fault.
He had 2 years to make some sort of notice that I was a "different" friend but we had a normal friend relationship. And then that "thing" "happened." He had two weeks to react. And even then he could have said something other than "whatever you say, whatever makes you happy."
Because after that moment I didn't think of him with any conflict or controversy for two years.
And then someone wants to see someone at a party and say my name and react with sadness and everyone say no one talks about sydney because she broke his heart and then someone tells me that. WHY WOULD YOU TELL ME THAT?! How was I supposed to know? How?
Maybe that's what all of this is... I cared about him, in a very sincere way. He was my friend. And he was right, I could trust him and maybe I made the mistake of putting him in the friend zone. And then maybe when I was told that I broke his heart, somewhere deep inside of me I knew it could be a very valid truth. And I wish it weren't. I wish I had known at the time. I didn't want to hurt him. I didn't want to be that one girl that got away.
But I really feel as if there's no way I could have known. I didn't suspect. Hell, I think I even thought he was so far out of my league that he wouldn't consider ME. But maybe there's a chance I had that wrong.
I wish, even now, these 4 years later, he could tell me. He could tell me so I could tell him how sorry I really am. I'm sorry I hurt him. I'm sorry.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Maybe Madrid? Perhaps Paris? I'd settle for Santiago...
I need a chance of scenery.
In a major sort of way.
In a major sort of way.
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