Why is it....
...that perfectly sane and confident women lose it when someone 'better' crosses their path?
*nods to W for the inspiration today*
*looks around at all the blank stares* 
Oh come on, don't play innocent with me. You all know what I'm talking about. You're self-assured and walking around minding your own business when someone prettier, or better dressed with nicer jewelry, crosses your path. They're thinner, or have better skin, or their hair is shinier. They could come off as smarter when you have a chance to hear them speak about something, or they have a smoother silky voice, or someone you like really admires them for the littlest thing.
Maybe it's your spouse or significant other who is the one that's doing the admiring and that's what sets it all off.
Women freak at this sort of thing. I can speak with experience on this one, as I'm a woman. A pretty darn self-assured one too. But every once in a while, you're happily walking along and encounter what can only be termed as an insignificant threat to your existence, and you find yourself using Sweet 'n' Low in your tea instead of the real sugar or honey you've used your entire lifetime, and standing up straighter so that your bust looks fuller. You start going through the closet to make sure that your belt, bag, and shoes all match. You go find a new organic shampoo so that your hair shines more than it ever did before.
Now, before I go on, I've never done that - at least not consciously. I'm pretty self-confident, as a co-worker once pointed out, and arrogant at that. But I've earned the arrogance because I'm the best at what I do. And I'm confident as a result of knowing that I'm good. But I digress.
What is it that prompts some women to crack when they're perfectly fine. Something to think about: perhaps that other person with the better whatever is unhappy or self-conscious about something themselves...
Real life example: I'm a pretty laid back individual. I wear jeans to work daily, with scuffed up worn cross-trainers. No makeup, hair is nicely brushed, and I don't have toothpaste crust on my mouth. My lips are a little chapped usually... thus the ever-present chapstick or blistex. I'm usually in a sweatshirt or a t-shirt worn under an unbuttoned long sleeve men's shirt. No, the shirts are mine - I've never stolen one from DH.
It's a really comfortable existence - the jeans are clean without holes (usually) at the knees, all the shirts are ironed. So, while it's very Geek comfy, it's also clean and presentable. I let my actions and experience speak for itself, not my wardrobe. It's part of the Silly-Con Valley/Apple culture of the late 80s - if the employees are comfortable, then they'll probably be more productive. Having lived for 2 1/2 career years in nylons and heels and suits, and then the last 8 in the wardrobe as described above, I can tell you that that is most definitely true.
There's someone at work in another department who is a fashion plate - she makes sure that her hair is perfect, the makeup is perfect, the clothes are just so - the anklet is perfectly adjusted, the tattoo just peeks out here or there... I had the opportunity to see her preen in the ladies' room when I was in there washing the heck out of my hands because I'd gotten some cleaner on them and didn't want that in my lunch. She sashays when she walks in her two or three inch spike heels. When she bends over, she does it so that her bottom (shaped by hours and hours at the gym) is rather noticeable... I hear she pulled the bend over routine after opening the hood of her car and the guys came running. My ex-boss did too, I also hear, but turned and walked back in saying he wanted no part of that. My respect for him increased a few notches back up after hearing about that.
I'm sure you get the idea - she's the kind of woman that would make someone else work harder on their image - the guys drool over her. Of course, she's also got a reputation for something else and that could be part of why the guys drool, but we won't go there.
Anyway, one day I hear that someone of the male persuasion complimented me on my style to someone else. If I recall correctly, I was wearing keds, no socks, jeans with holes in the knees, and a Chicago t-shirt (the band, not the city). The following week, guess who is dressed in an attempt to mimic me?
*nods*
She didn't quite pull it off
- it takes years of practice to get that easygoing, hands in jeans pockets, all female girl who is one of the guys confidence. In all actuality, it's not something you can really practice either - its just something that becomes part of you. The leaning in the doorway, with one hand in the pocket and a bright smile sort of thing.
I was very interested in the comments that some friends of mine passed my way that day - especially the ones that mentioned her frustration at getting no compliments on her outfit. She's not tried to do that again, as far as I know, but I'm waiting.
What was it, I wish to know, that shook her arrogance (oh yes, she's got an ego... as do I) to have this need to dress like someone else? To not be what she usually is, but to have to change herself? I can't help but think that in her case it's some strange need to have everyone like her, but you can't be all things to all people. And you have to be happy with yourself, otherwise, what's the point?
But still, I digress even further than the original point of this... is it jealousy that makes women start dressing better, or changing their hair when in contact with someone who they think has got a better outward image than they have? Is it a lack of confidence in their outward image? Is it the idea that if they look like this other perfect woman, then they'll have the seemingly perfect life too?
*shrug* I don't know, and I can't explain it. But it's just something I was wondering about...
*...sticks her hands in her jeans pockets and walks off with a little smile on her face*
Monday, January 19, 2004
Lots of little things today...
For all you Blogspeak users, you probably know by now that all the comments are being moved over to HaloScan. If you're already on Haloscan, then you can request for your comments to be moved over. Go read your email,
and read the message to BlogSpeak users on the HaloScan website. I'm going to be moving the comments over so that everything's in one place.
For all the television watchers (maybe some spoilers out here)...
CSI - so...is Grissom finally going to take a step towards Sara after that last case, or do you think that it's going to drive him further away from the hurt since the last victim looked like her? And Sara now knows Grissom's words for not going along for the ride since she was listening to the questioning of the suspect.
Oh, and for those really rabid CSI fans... there's a third one coming. CSI: New York... Manhattan to be exact.
ER - come on, come on... Weaver with a baby now? How the heck did she manage to convince Sandy to go through with it? Next question: who's the father - is anyone screaming Romano at the screen?
*nods* Yes, I thought you were. Next: Carter and Kem - who still think that the baby isn't Carter's? Yeah, I know you're out there.
Alias -
*laughs heartily* So, Mrs. Vaughn is evil. I saw that one coming from the very first introduction to Sydney - even before I knew the stuff that was coming down the line. And, by the way, If you think Lauren's bad *now*, you'd better hold on to your seat.
*snicker*
24 - all is not what it seems, from what I hear. And that's all I'm going to say about that because it may not come to pass.
Movie remakes - now, this is a tricky one. Normally I'm against them if it's a really good film, and violently against them if it's a bad film (because, honestly, remakes usually are worse than the original, and why make a bad film worse).
But I have revoke my opinion against remakes because I saw a really good one this weekend. One that really honored the original movie. TNT remade 'The Goodbye Girl'. Of course, during commercials they kept calling it an 'original movie', which had DH and I stunned at the same time because we both knew it was a remake.
DH had never sat through all of the original film, so much of it that he saw (while he was wandering in and out of the room) had him laughing. I, being a Neil Simon fan since I was little, have seen this movie several times, and it ranks as one of my all time favorites. So I was nervous upon hearing of a remake, which I only learned about during Christmas week. Three days before it aired I heard that Neil Simon had complete control over it and had updated the script himself, and so I had some faith. But the actors made me nervous - not so much about Patricia Heaton taking over Marsha Mason's role as Paula, but Jeff Daniels as Elliott Garfield? Could he possibly be as neurotic as Richard Dreyfuss was?
The answer to that is easy. Of course not.
NO ONE can be as neurotic as Dreyfuss was in that role. But Daniels did a most excellent job as Elliott, and I still was a little teary eyed at the end - or as much as I could be since 4 other guys had shown up to game with DH and I, and I was only half paying attention at the end (yes, I taped it). So I figure that if I gave the film my full attention, I'd be crying full out, and I'll have to find that out in a night or two when I put the tape in to watch it again.
In short, I highly recommend seeing this movie when it cycles back around on TNT, or if it comes out on DVD. And that's big coming from me because I look at 'The Goodbye Girl' as the gold standard for modern relationship movies.
What is it with little kids and socks? Either they never want to take them off, or they never want to put them on. Or is that just my kids?
*sigh*
Someone once said (and I don't recall who, because I tossed the scrap of paper) that if you mis-button the first button of your coat, it's inevitable that all the other buttons will be mis-buttoned too. Apply that to your life and assumptions that you make, and you'll be more careful in your thinking about things. Trust me. I am.
What is it about warm tea and rain outside? There's something that's so... comforting about it. It takes on a whole new dimension when it's storming outside, with heavy rains and high winds - that's when you start thinking about how fragile life can be. Especially when you're sitting by a floor to ceiling plate glass window. Thankfully, today I'm just feeling comforted. All I'd need is a blanket across my legs, and then I'd truly be happy.
Now, remember as you go about your day, to question everything. If you don't, then I'd hate to be you. Remember, questioning doesn't always mean that you don't believe in something in front of you...
... it can also be a sign of great curiosity in pursuit of further knowledge.
Friday, January 16, 2004
Beauty....
A couple of days ago, on the BB that I frequent most often, someone posted a topic about a billboard that's out there. The billboard states the following:
Ugliness demeans us all, invest in your face
I find that horribly offensive, as did the poster in question.
I think all about the years that I had people telling me my looks were "unique"... my mom and my paternal grandmother (neither of whom were anything much to look at themselves), a psycho ex-boyfriend, and others... Being told you're "unique" and leaving it at that sometimes doesn't help someone out who has low self-esteem or is down on their looks. Sometimes even the physically prettiest people don't think they're pretty at all.
And sometimes, they're dead right.
Beauty is from within. It's an intangible about a person, not the image that's on the outside for everyone else to see. After all, the most physically beautiful woman (or man) in the world could be horribly vain, self-centered, and mean. Is that really a beautiful person? *I* think not.
Society's view of what's beautiful changes over time too. Anyone remember who Botticelli was? Anyone else remember who most of his models were? Very 'fluffy' nudes. Even the slimmest of them would make me look like Kate Moss, and I'm no lightweight myself. They were considered gorgeous at the time, but we wouldn't give them a second glance in this society. Shame. They also had very pretty faces.
Society has placed way too much importance on the physical appearance of individuals as opposed to what makes the individual up as a person. Is this really the image that we want our sons and daughters to grow up with too? That our daughters need to be looking exactly like the models do, and that our sons should marry the prettiest girl he can? There are an awful lot of wonderful people who could suffer heartbreak as a result.
And such a shame too, because the biggest hearts can shatter the most irreparably.
That's another thing I hate.... "she's got such a pretty face if she just did something with..." Insert your favorite here: weight, hair, makeup, clothes... All of those things are superficial, including the pretty face! The true beauty of the person is inside... but it gets chipped away at every time someone says something like that to them, or where they can overhear it.
Should I invest in my face? Absolutely!. I'll invest it in every time I smile at my daughters. I'll invest every time I laugh with them and deepen those little lines around my mouth and eyes that I've had for a few years - oh yes, they're faint, but they're there. I'll invest every time I get a pimple and ignore it. I'll invest every time I get up in the morning, wash my face, and face the day without makeup - maybe a little chapstick to keep those lips from cracking, but that's it.
Yes, I'm "unique".... I don't care about the wrinkles I'll eventually get, the little lines I'll have to battle. I don't care about the clothing styles, or my weight (but I do want to be fit so that I can live to have those wrinkles and afford to sit and stitch for long periods of time). I don't care about my hair, other than running a brush through it so it's not a tangled rats nest when I go to work.
I have a bump on my nose that's a bone spur from having heavy glasses with glass lenses when I was ten. I could easily get that fixed with minor surgery. Why? So I could look like a raccoon for 3 weeks and have people whisper that I had my nose done? I'm not a model, so what would it gain me? Nothing. I've lived with it for 20 years so far, and it's not harming anything.
And why should I risk anything to surgery. In a most timely development, I found while taking a break from writing this that the author Olivia Goldsmith (author of "The First Wives Club") has passed away. How is that relevant you ask? Well, she was undergoing cosmetic (elective) surgery to remove the loose skin under her chin, fell into a coma and has just passed. People have reactions to anesthesia, a scalpel can slip from the steadiest hand, or other complications can arise. Why should I bother to do something that time and gravity are only going to ravage further?
I have way large brown eyes and long eyelashes. Thick ones. Sometimes they make me look the wide-eyed innocent in meetings when I'm trying to convey serious points about infrastructure changes. Oh yes, they can work to my detriment and help make me look younger than I actually am. There's almost nothing I can do about them... that's probably a good thing, since they can also work to my advantage when I need information from someone and approach them blinking those wide open eyes.
My teeth are crooked. 4 years of braces and retainers helped a bit, but they're not perfect. Big deal. I have a small mouth that opens into a very wide smile and my eyes squinch up when I do - nothing I can do about that either.
And who cares? Those who know me well know that I'm a caring person, a mischievous elf, a vivacious personality, a talented craftsperson, and an analytical thinker....
... and those who know me, love me for who I am. I could ask for nothing more.
Wednesday, January 14, 2004
Temporary Friends...
Apologies in advance to anyone who thinks that they're specifically mentioned in an unflattering light - the chances are 100% good that it's not you I'm talking about.
It happens to everyone eventually... and you know it almost immediately when it does. An acquaintance, a coffee buddy at work, a lunchtime friend, or someone you share some interesting discussions with online.
You come to count on them. You're always around, they're always around. Then one day you find they already went for some coffee, or they're disappeared at lunchtime, or they don't respond to your emails or instant messages anymore.
You worry about them. You worry about YOU. You wonder if you need better deodorant or if your fonts are too hard to read.
This has happened to me too many times to count. In elementary school, when I made friends with the new kid, but the new kid told me other schoolmates lies and they stayed away from me. In high school, when my best friend decided I wasn't "cool enough", or the guys wouldn't ask me out because "she's too smart for her own good". In college, when my roommate told my friends the unflattering things said when I was in my deepest realms of sleep and
none of them ever spoke to me again. Or when the first real love of my life told me that I needed to find somebody better... and so did he.
Of course, you rarely learn these things said behind your back directly from the source. And when you do finally learn what was said, it's usually too late to do anything about it.
Such is the latest situation of hurt and abandonment that I face. Yes, it has happened once again. Another individual to add to the ranks of temporary friend.
Someone I respected greatly, and considered a friend from the cyberspace atmosphere, all but vanished from the landscape a few months ago. She was being targeted by a couple of nasty individuals who followed her into a sane community and she became embroiled in some nasty debates. Granted, she started a couple of the debates, but they generally started out rather sane. She decided to leave. I even wrote her an email and IM'd her telling her not to leave as she would be missed. I can't say I blame her for leaving though - her opinions were being met mostly with derision. But then that was the case for almost anyone posting to those discussions. Everyone had opposing viewpoints.
Now, I come to find all these months later, after the fires have died down, on the heels of an issue with another individual we thought we knew, that she believes I am one of the people behind the nastiness. That I encouraged it, or choreographed it behind the scenes. As if I have a group of people who are willing to do my bidding.
To put it simply, that I was a member of the "topic police" and ensured she would be driven away.
I am in shock to say the least. Abandoned without explanation. Disappointed that she would have so little faith in me. Insulted at the implication that I would be associated with a certain pair of individuals I liken to trolls who only surface to try and work her over. Maybe I didn't know this person as well as I thought I did, or maybe she didn't give me enough credit. Either way, it's over.
I had no idea she hates me that much. Yes, hate. I gather this from another trusted mutual friend of ours.
I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, since life was going so darn well with stable friendships around me. Because I haven't had anything like this happen for so long.
Why do friendships end? And, to follow on that, what constitutes a friendship? There can be an awful lot of grey area in that sort of relationship because there is an implied commitment. It's not a black and white situation like an exclusive intimate relationship or a marriage. a friendship can dissolve without needing to contact a lawyer or appearing before a judge (in most cases, unless someone decides to sue someone else). But, like a marriage, it also ends with a measure of pain or sorrow at something being lost. To go back to my earlier question, maybe some friendships end to teach us how to deal with loss on a small scale. Maybe some end because it's their time to end - they've run their course, or because the dynamic of the lives involved have changed enough that a connection between the two people just can't be made anymore. Or maybe they end because one person is defective somehow.
This leads me to the other side of the questioning panel. To look at myself. Do I really have such poor judgment of people that I find these shallow ones easily who would leave me behind without an explanation or wanting to find out why? Based on some of the dear friends that I have, I would have to say that cannot be it (unless, perhaps, I just got a lucky cosmic roll of the friendship dice a few times). So then, if that's not it, then what's wrong with me, considering that I'm the common denominator here? What would be wrong with me to cause some people to disassociate themselves from me in quiet cold ways? I'd like to think that its not me, but that's probably my ego talking.
It makes me wonder if this individual, this situation, is why I don't hear from some other folks who I was once close with. Or, rather, thought I was close with. Oh, I know, lives get busy and situations change, but there's been enough distance to make me wonder...
... and sometimes, in a great rare while, WhizGidget doesn't want to wonder.
Tuesday, January 13, 2004
Comments are back temporarily...
... courtesy of Haloscan... only until BlogSpeak has a resolution regarding service... Feel free to comment, I'll manage to get them saved over to one spot or another...
Ah, the wonders of technolgy.
For the time being, BlogSpeak (who hosts my comments) is big-time
DOWN. The hosting service has suspended the owner's account. So, I don't know when comments will be back on BlogSpeak.
I would hate to lose any of the comments previously made on my blog, so once I have them, I may append them to each post, and find a new commenting service. Until then, I don't know what to do. I'd ask you, my readers, but you have no way of telling me unless you happen to know my email address, which I am most certainly not posting here for bots to pick up and spam even more than they already have.
*sigh* So, here I sit, commentless. And I'm sure folks have something to say about my last posting about A's birthday. Today was the assembly for A to get her Student of the Month award for December. I was sooooo proud. And I didn't cry - not a tear, even though my back is killing me.
For those who aren't in regular contact with me these days, yesterday morning I sat down in my office chair, and stretched out a little before starting the day. This is a normal routine. What's not so normal is that as soon as I put myself back into a rest position, I had a flash of very intense pain below the base of my neck and stretching into my shoulders. Based on the sore muscles I'm feeling now, and the random numb feeling coupled with flashes of pain, I'd say I have a pinched nerve just above my shoulder blades.
*This* does NOT make me happy at all, so I might be a little quiet for a while. Thanks in advance for any good wishes (which I'm sure you'd leave here if BlogSpeak wasn't down) that you send my way.
Monday, January 12, 2004
BlogSpeak fell down and go *boom*
... which means you can't submit comments... it was up a little earlier, but then went back down.
If you have a comment, please hold onto it until the comment function is back - it should automatically appear later this evening.
Yesterday...
I had so much on my mind and going on around me that I didn't get to post what I really should have posted, but then I really needed more time to think about it all, so it's just as well... and here it is.
To A, on her birthday.
Hello, little one who isn't so little anymore. 8 years ago you joined me and your father in the wee small hours of the morning. Those same wee small hours that I currently go to work in, and that you refuse to wake from as the start of another week of school sits in front of you.
Your journey to this day has been an adventurous one - from learning to crawl on cold tile with a big fuzzy Sasha-dog nosing at you, to learning to walk in a brand new house with carpets, to rolling down the stairs the first time you snuck out of your bed...
You've made me happy with exuberant hugs designed to make me fall over as you launch yourself at me when I pick you up from the school playground, or a sweet goofy smile when we're out grocery shopping after a long work day, or just sitting on the floor watching cartoons poking at each other until we end up having a massive tickle fight that eventually pulls in everyone else in the house.
You've worried me with colds, with cutting your finger on a serrated knife when you decided to cut yourself some sourdough bread for breakfast at the age of 3, and with being the most independent spirit that I've raised. Almost more so than myself. It's as if you don't fear trying anything new, my little roller coaster rider. Maybe someday I'll be brave enough to join you.
You've made me sad in telling me you don't love me when you don't get your way, or stomping off when I ask you to do something as simple as putting your shoes and jacket away for the 5th time. Or crying from hitting your head or scraping your knee or falling off your bike. When you cry, I want to take your pain away but all I can think of is trying to make you feel better and forget. And give you that Magical Mommy Kiss that makes the boo-boos feel better faster. Hopefully I can keep giving you those kisses as you get older, and that the Mommy Magic works just as well as it does now.
I've been proud as proud can be watching you master tying your shoes, making your first peanut butter sandwich, succeeding in getting Sasha to listen to your commands at feeding time, seeing you get a Student of the Month award at school last year, and receiving the letter in the mail that says you're going to be Student of the Month again in an assembly on Tuesday. But since you're not reading this, you don't know that you're The Student again for second grade... and you won't until they announce your name at assembly. Which Dad and I will be at, wearing our happiest smiles. I'm saving up as much of my smiling today as I can so that tomorrow's smile will be so bright that you don't notice the inevitable proud tear that will slide down my cheek.
You're a good kid, Dad says. He's partially right. You're a most excellent kid. A great start to a hopefully great person. Someday you'll probably read this and say, "Oh Mom, you're such the goof." And I'll smile a goofy smile and laugh a silly laugh, and hopefully earn a great big hug from it...
... one that will knock me over like the ones on the playground have.
Sunday, January 11, 2004
Reality and Fantasy...
Once upon a time, a long time ago back in 1993, there was Sierra. And Sierra decided to start an online community - a network. And since it was nationwide, and since it was online, and since there was a couple of good online RPG's (Role Playing Games, for the uninitiated), they decided to call it ImagiNation.
And it was good. There were the RPG games; there were simple competitions playing Hearts, or Poker; there were chat rooms.
I was a member of ImagiNation. I eventually became a pseudo sys-op, and a member of the HateKittens. I was a champion Hearts player. And all was good.
There was a local group of users who would meet occasionally at a restaurant, and with a few new users coming online, they decided to meet again. One was very insistent that I be there - I'd never let on to my real name (going under the online name of Kira most of the time) and would only give a general idea of my location (a very large city in the area).
I hemmed, I hawed, I said sure (with no intention of going there because I just wanted to get this one person off my back). Come to find, that more than one of the people there weren't exactly what they said they were, and the one who insisted I be there was rather angered by the fact that I wasn't.
Good thing too - I'm told that they weren't the kind of folks that I wanted to be within 10 feet of.
It was an early warning to me that anyone could be anything they wanted online.
Fast Forward 10 years. I never really forgot that lesson, but somewhere along the way, I think I misplaced it.
It recently came to my attention that two pieces of information that were passed my way were false. One I'm still trying to confirm. Another is still trying to convince me that she's telling the truth and I'm not buying any of it. Many people along with me believed this person, believed her troubles, believed the recent tragedy that supposedly happened to her, and to find that it's not true was even more shocking than the tragedy.
It's an timely reminder to me that you can be anything you want online. You could be married, engaged, or hopelessly single. You could have 10 kids, 5 kids, 2 kids, no kids, or can't have kids. You could decide to quit your job and sell everything in the hopes of owning a llama farm. Your massive bags of stitching in progress could have been destroyed by a bottle of Bailey's spilling all over it. Your significant other (that never existed in the first place) could have been killed in a horrible tragedy, or could have run away with your best friend.
You could create entire realms of a life that you wish existed, or your dream life and no one would ever know the difference. You could be 20 pounds lighter. You could be 15 years younger. Blond, brunette, redhead. Doctor, Lawyer, Architect or Engineer. Any religion you want, any political belief set - and change them all around when the situation suits you best.
You could create multiple people as well to join communities and interact with you and your friends as well. But it would serve you well to create those people with IP addresses that aren't identical to your current IP. And if you decide to have one die, make sure it's in a nice quiet way and not one that would be sure to hit the newspapers.
Basically, make it virtually untraceable.
You could be the most honest person ever in real life, and be the most dishonest liar online.
After all, couldn't I really be a 30 pound mutant feline with amazing intelligence typing this? Or that I could have made up the individuals that are mentioned as cast members in my right hand menu box?
For all you know, I could be a 45 year old, 300 pound single male trucker from Turlock, instead of the 32 year old, 138 pound married female business analyst that I say I am.
And some of you might think that that's true, except that a few of my readers have actually met me, and know who/what I really am...
Woof.
Friday, January 09, 2004
The ramblings for today....
... are varied and sundry.
Once again, I'm reminded that you shouldn't put anything out in a blog on the web that you wouldn't mind printing in a newspaper. I wish my former boss would keep that in mind when he posts online personal ads. Especially ones that state "Smokes Occasionally" when in reality, he's a human chimney.
Poor guy... It's great that he's trying to get out there, but when entire departments know about it from the 'net, it's not healthy.
Stay tuned to future blogs as I'll probably muse more about what goes out on the web coming back to haunt you in a couple of weeks or so...
For you ER watchers... raise your hand (or join the comment tree at the end of today's ramblings) if you think that Kem's kid is really Luka's. Or someone else's other than Carter's?
*raises hand up waaaaaaay high because a prickly feeling is telling her this is so*
For you CSI watchers... come on, I could have gotten rid of the evidence a little better than the sis did last night - you bash the head in with a rock, make sure the blood splatter is minimal, and then set the body on fire on wood raft on the river that you could keep in place using a chain or something until it's not necessary/all burnt up... not near a tree where the rings would pick up the toxic leftovers from the burnt gas.
I really need to finish those books I started writing years ago.
A scary thought from my planner: A typical American consumes nearly one ton of food and drink every year. Makes you think twice about your diet, doesn't it? Wouldn't you rather eat one ton of healthy foods, rather than one ton of burgers and fries?
*ponders this for a few* Well... if there weren't any health and weight repercussions on eating that ton of burgers and fries...
Why is it that some of the most kind-hearted people I know are the ones that are hurt the most? I know someone who is very frustrated about a couple of situations, and one of them involves her getting a group together to help someone else. Unfortunately, no one wants to help from what I hear.
I'm sure my friend thinks that it's because no one likes *her* which I'm sure isn't the case, but that they think the recipient of the kindness is odd - and that is something out of her control due to a medical condition.
A related thought - I think I hate the saying about the squeaky wheel getting the grease - sometimes those nice quiet wheels that you don't hear squeaking need some grease too. Everyone can always use a little kind maintenance whether they think they need it or not.
Another quote: If the first button of one's coat is wrongly buttoned, all the rest will be crooked. Think about that one and how it applies to one wrong assumption - the cornerstone on which many a comedy movie has been built on. Or how just one lesson learned badly in life could lead to many other things built badly upon it.
Does it mean anything when you wake up in the middle of the night and note the time, close your eyes, have a fully detailed long dream that shows a lifetime of experiences with an ex (or someone other than your current significant other), and a voice just behind your left shoulder says that he will never be happy because he ignored the true path of life with you, and you wake up to find only one minute has passed?
Sorry if I've been a downer today, but I can't seem to find my focus today for anything I've touched or done.
*sigh*
Thursday, January 08, 2004
...because nice matters....
I was thinking yesterday while I was writing the State of the Stitching Address, and went off into a tangent while I was writing about 'Because Nice Matters'. I edited it from the final copy and saved it for you for today.
Nice does indeed matter, don't you think? Everything comes around full circle eventually, and how nice you are to those around you and to yourself will matter. I'd hate to be the one who kicked puppies for fun as a kid and be facing someone who is a dog lover at your final judgment of your life. Y'know what I mean?
A very wise database engineer I worked with what feels like a lifetime ago sent me this back in 1998. The thing that stunned me was that he sent it on my wedding anniversary that year. I've always kept it pinned up in my offices at work as a reminder of the wisdom:
Watch your thoughts... they become words.
Watch your words... they become actions.
Watch your actions... they become habits.
Watch your habits... they become character.
Watch your character... it becomes your destiny.
I find that to be very true. If you start thinking obsessively bad thoughts about a situation, eventually you'll say something, and then do something, and then you're on a track that you might not break out of. Anger is a very powerful emotion and drives people to do destructive things.
On the flip side, Nice is a powerful emotion/state of being too - and it's one that can make you very tired, if you have to work at it. The sad thing is, no one should ever have to work at being nice. Nice should just exist as a regular state of being. Sadly, that's not always the case, for if it were, we'd probably have a lot less conflict in the world than we currently do.
I think I'd forgotten about being nice, and how to be nice, and how the simplest things could brighten someone's day immeasurably when I received the unexpected gift of the pattern and silks for Because Nice Matters. I was in a holding pattern where I was feeling like a doormat, and was sick of being stepped on (partly because I was nice, partly because I just didn't have the energy to defend myself). I was so blown away by an unknown someone's kindness that I just sat there for a few minutes without speaking. A & B thought it was pretty... DH thought that someone must appreciate me very much to have done something like that - and was pretty amazed that I was still stunned when I could speak a half hour later.
And he was even more surprised when I said I wasn't going to try and find out who it was who sent it, but instead take it as a wonderful anonymous present in the spirit of what it tries to convey - that it's something nice, for someone nice, because nice mattered. And I've tried to live up to that for the last year. I still smile when I look at the kit and the silks because someone cared enough to think of me and send it to me.
So remember that... nice does matter. To you and to the people that you're nice to...
...and it can touch those people in the most unexpected ways.
Wednesday, January 07, 2004
State of the stitching address...
*tips her hat to Governor Schwarzenegger* I guess I should update on what I've been doing in the cross stitching world since I initially started this blog to detail my daily adventures in stitching, but almost immediately changed my mind and made it a stream of my bizarre consciousness type of thing.
For those who know the super secret link, I finally finished something for friends of mine who got married in August. I've finally got new frames and mats ordered (for it and something else) and will have that up to them by the end of the month, hopefully.... at the very least, they'll have it in time for Valentine's Day - and won't that be appropriate!
I've decided, after spending the bulk of 2003 doing models and gifts, that 2004 will be my selfish year. I stitch only for me (with the exception of one model that I hope I get in the summer, depending on things that are out of my control). And I get to help a friend make sure she stays with her goals of completing a couple of things this year - likewise, she's going to keep me on the straight and narrow too.
Independent of her, I decided I'm also going to try and stitch an ornament a month (two, if I'm feeling particularly ambitious, or maybe I should start B's Christmas stocking instead) - so two nights a month will be spent working on ornies. The ones I have in mind shouldn't take much more than that - they're the beaded Mill Hill Charmers. I've spent 3 hours on one so far and all I have to do is the beading now.
In the meantime, Teresa Wentzler's
The Guardian is going down. I've had that as a WIP since May 2001 - almost 3 solid years. It's my oldest WIP, and while I still love it, I'm tired of hearing that dragon whine at me in the closet where I've put him while I work on other things. So this year, he's going to be completed and framed and hung in A & B's room.
I think the next oldest wip is either
Celestial Dragon or
Floral Bellpull. I'm actually working on CD at the moment, so no fear there, but after a dreadful frogging (where I had to rip out stitches
*rip-it, rip-it*) incident on Floral Bellpull I've not gone back to it. So, it's going to stay in its lovely baggie for a little while longer - they'll be dried flowers instead of fresh.... that's still nice, right?
One of the other "must finish in 2004" projects is
Above the Clouds, on some lovely cloud fabric - I can't remember if it's Silkweaver or old Blended Needle, but either way, I think it's going to turn out gorgeous. And it's small, so I should be able to get it out of the way during breaks from Guardian. No, I don't have a formal rotation but I don't think I want one at the moment... I think I need to pare down the WIP list a little more.
Desiderata and
The Fortunate Traveller will be worked on liberally during 2004 - Of course, I need to decide if Desiderata will stay on the 28 count bone lugana I'm working it on, or change the fabric out (and rip out my existing work) to a 28 count white Quaker. Decisions, decisions. For you non-stitchers reading this, trust me, this is a hard decision to make even though I've only finished the second band past the bottom of the G motif that starts the piece. Which, to look at the picture doesn't seem like much, but considering that the whole piece will end up being about 40 inches long, I really have completed quite a bit. Progress which no one can see, since I've not taken a picture of it yet.
I started Mirabilia's
Shimmering Mermaid before the end of 2003. It's on a most lovely fabric called Charizma from Silkweaver that's got the most beautiful purples and blues to it... Yes, I know, no new WIPs until I finish something, but that's the 2004 vow. New starts in 2003 were exempt. The stitching buddy who's going to keep me on track fully understands this - she's the one who inspired me by doing the same darn thing herself.
I reserve the right to not make a statement about
Noah's Ark and
Storyteller at the moment because I don't know what the year ahead will have in store for them. I guess I should work some on Noah since I do moderate that forum...
I have a very nice little piece called
Because Nice Matters. Someone sent it anonymously to me last year (I've never figured out who), and I've treasured it ever since. It was my work project, and it's almost done. I'm going to finish it up at home, and then frame it and figure out where to hang it. I thought about my office at work, but I think over my computer at home might be more appropriate so that I see it every morning regardless of workday or weekend (since I keep my car keys and briefcase and cell phone on my desk)....
...because yes, Nice does Matter. To paraphrase a friend: Nice things happen to nice people, because they deserve it.
...and we're back.
After some HTML and Java issues, and testing out many different skins for this blog, and running some queries past a bulletin board community and some against closer friends, we have the changes to this blog in place.
MayStar Designs is credited with the animated bubble gif at the top there... there's a link to her on the side bar. There was an entire skin called Soft Blue Bubbles, but I just didn't feel like taking the blog that far. There was another called "My Life in a Box" but black with sparkly stars java-ing out every time someone clicked on the page wasn't really conducive to a good reading atmosphere.
So I stuck with the well lighted place for stuff and just added a small flair. I liken the bubbles to thoughts popping out into the atmosphere. Corny, yes, I know. But that was my first thought after I successfully floating that gif right there.
DH (who forgot he had my blog bookmarked) and I tried to visit the site last night and he couldn't - something apparently had gone south with it. Don't know what, but it seems to be running just fine now. Anyway, I had asked DH what his opinions were on adding this little gif, and the answer was to make the title section into a table. Somehow that didn't seem right, so I grabbed one of two HTML books we have lying around these days and went to work searching. A few minutes later he came by with the other book and traded me.
He was right. The second book had much better full line code examples, better layout, more pics, *and* the answer I was looking for. For that, I publicly thank him. Intially he thought the align wouldn't work, but I explained it using the more common java term of 'floating an image'. But I doubt he's reading this. Eh, I'll show him when I get home that the float worked.
Anyway... onward to meet a new day. I'll appear with another blog entry later (perhaps) as the fog from my mind clears and the numbers seem a little more under control. As Jaime Lee Curtis' character in Freaky Friday said - "Greet the day!" and the less popular not-cool, "Make Good Choices!" So, folks, greet the day when it arrives (if it hasn't already - it's still dark here), and make good choices...
...especially the choices you make for lunch.
Monday, January 05, 2004
...going under mild construction again...
*sigh* Yes, I know. Make up my mind already... but I found an awesome template that I want to try, and if it works, then we'll have a new look shortly. And if it doesn't work, then we'll stay as we are....
Here we are again...
... I guess it must be fate...
*ducks at the rotten tomato being thrown at her because she lapsed into singing a bad Peter Cetera duet with Cher* Oh, yes, right... Here we are again... at the start of another year. But isn't that fate too?
*ducks another rotten tomato*
Ok Ok. Enough with the bad 80s music.
It's that wondrous time of year that reality slaps us in the face and most humans make silly resolutions in the middle of hangover recoveries that they probably won't remember in 6 weeks. Unless you're like an acquaintance of mine who puts hers into her calendar as weekly reminders. She's an interesting study - she'll keep half and feel guilty about the rest, but she never changes that calendar entry.
I'm not sure whether I envy that discipline or think that she's cracked. Maybe a little of both.
So, why is it that we are so focused on creating resolutions for ourselves that many never end up keeping - even after a week? The diets, the giving up drinking/smoking/bad foods, the exercise plans.... Is it just an illusion of reality? Something for us to grab onto in the hopes that we can be better than we are?
I'm not trying to debunk those who have goals (like myself) and are trying to execute them in a realistic manner (like my mandate that I'll make it to Curves 4x weekly, as I have been actually doing for the last three months), but what about those 40-something guys who have a beer belly bigger than my 6 year old who say they're going to be gym gods by the end of the year and then immediately pull open a beer and some pork rinds? Or the 300 pound woman who says she wants to exercise more and lose at least half her weight, and then orders a pizza with everything on it and then eats half of it within 15 minutes of it's arrival?
These aren't realistic goals that anyone can take seriously except the people who make the goals - and somehow, I think, *they* don't even take them seriously. They just make them either because they're goaded into it by family, or they're feeling guilty about the excesses in their lives.
Now, those two examples - I exaggerated them, of course, but used them to make my point. Why can't we be happy with the person that we are, without making unrealistic or unachievable goals? That's not to say that anyone reading this who may fit the above descriptions couldn't do it - I know of someone who has worked very VERY hard to trim her weight down considerably, and she has done an amazing job in a short amount of time. She has a long-term goal and fully intends to realize it. And I think she can.
Let's use me as an example: 5' 7"... 137 pounds... medium build. Now before any of you start throwing things at me again and telling me I don't need to lose weight, I'm not after losing weight... I'll cover my real goal further down the page. The problem is, I'm not FIT. And I don't get any exercise at work anymore, other than making sure I get up and walk around at least once an hour, so I don't spend the entire day on my rear end. I want to be FIT - have more energy, have my metabolism be sparked up a little.... and... well, we'll cover that at the end.
I've been floating between a size 8 and size 10 for a long time. I was floating between a size 6 and 8 all through high school, college and pre-kids. Personally, I would love to be a size 4. Realistically - it will never happen. I don't have the build for it and I'd probably waste away to nothing doing it. Now... a solid size 8 I can do, with a goal to float back down to a size 6. That, too, might be doable. When? I can't say. It all depends on how I do with another goal that precedes that - to go work out 4x weekly. Which I've been doing since mid-September.
But I couldn't have gotten there without making the goal of working out 3x weekly. I started down that path in August. And I couldn't have started down that path unless I made another goal - which was to join a gym. I did that in early August - but I made that goal/promise to myself way back in January, and it took me 8 months to actually do something about it.
8 months!
That's a long time to decide to go sign up at the nearest Curves - because you knew that that's the place that you wanted to go to. I started getting serious about signing up in May - that's still 3 months prior to me actually going ahead and signing up.
Since doing so and working out, I've lost 11 1/2 inches off various measurements. That's not too darn bad for 4 months worth of work (I'd say 5 months, but I don't get measured for December's progress until tomorrow). But I only achieved that through taking it one slow step at a time.
So here's to a few more small steps toward dropping 4 percentage points off my body fat percentage. That's right. I've given up caring about my weight in favor of caring about body density. I want to be more dense
....
....wait a second. That's not quite right
...
© WhizGidget/AMS
Other Bloggers
I probably could get a rope so that I could ride the horse, but I can't get a horse on Amazon. Well, not a real one.
I wonder if this is the year that they succeed in driving me away from that place. Oh ho ho, 
now don't you go and get any wild ideas from that about going and starting a flame war over there... it becomes a radically different landscape with a different moderator that you may know as a stitcher, but acts differently as a moderator. Just think about that.
