What a week. A shutter literally runs up my spine when I think about this week. In a word it has been crappy. But as I’m comparing my week to a few of my friends I’m thinking that everyone’s week was pretty crappy. So, when I sit down to reflect upon, I’m forced to wonder, “What makes for a good week? Do we tend to focus so much on the negative that we loose sight of the good stuff?” (more…)
A few years back, for reasons truly unbloggable, I stopped sending Christmas cards. Personal ones. Ones with the photo of the family and the horrible Christmas “Let’s all catch-up” letter that is the butt of many a comic’s jokes. I just stopped.
There were reasons to be sure, but frankly, it took me about 20 seconds flat to realize that if what you read in the horrid letter was what you knew about me, then it probably meant we weren’t all that close anyway. I’m completely aware of how cold this sounds, and I probably am that cold, heartless person, but I’m the person who like relationships. I like real live relationships with real live humans.
…including the clutter, the mess, the ick.
Ok, so while I’m the master of many, many things, I am not the Queen of Organization. However, I know people. (And as a good friend of mine says, “Life takes knowing a guy.”)
As you may remember, I used to work. Um, let me rephrase to something that will not give Prince a heart attack. I used to work for OTHER people. In fact I had quite a few jobs back in the day. You know, when I was young and not old and decrepit like I am now. In fact, some of those various jobs had REALLY bad vacation schedules and worse pocilies around time off.
Now, you have to know that I’m a FIRM believer in time off. Heck, I ran away from the real world to begin my own business all about helping people with their time off. I am a fan. I believe that Americans do not take enough time off for themselves in a given year; I think this leads to more stress; more therapy; and more over eating. I’ve even been known to have a metal health day or four in my life.
I’m going to assume that you are all tired of hearing about my new love affair with my robot. I’m seriously loving the clean floors, the automatic nature of setting him loose and coming back to a cat hair, dust bunny free world, except when he escapes and eats a sock. It is so different than anything I could imagine. But alas, I must be boring you with all of that nonsense.
So, I bring you, ‘Postal Revenge,’ a new low chapter in the book that is Frankenhouse and all that Frankenhouse has to offer.
My Dear Friends,
I sit before you this morning, exhusted and potentially at a new low in my own personal growth. While I could completely attribute this to my mere 2 hours of sleep and lack of shower and coffee thus far, you have come to know me well enough that I will not. Instead I will take this time to continue my efforts to make you feel better about yourselves in comparison.
UPDATED: Because I often think of the best things to say AFTER the fact.
My great-grandmother once said that “there are just some stinkers in this world.” And my whole family has quoted her my whole life. In fact, between that and the other most popular quote I heard growing up, “Let it roll off like water off a duck’s back.” I think most sane people would guess that I had issues with bullies. And really I did.
My basic problem is two-fold. One, I’m exceedingly trusting. I want to see the good in everyone I met and I have no hidden agenda. (Mama and Daddy, stop screaming at the computer — I freely admit, I have been manipulative to get what I want, but I don’t have hidden agendas about people.) What I mean is, I don’t look to find out dirt on someone else only to hurt them later with it. The problem here is, though I may be in my 30’s, I still don’t get that there are people out there that do this. I don’t understand how tearing another person down makes you feel better. I don’t get it. Thus, I trust people far too much. I overshare and I get hurt.
My second problem is that once I’ve been bitten, I can not seem to let it go. I hurt, I cry, I ache, I beat myself up. I’m worse on myself, I think, than the orginal offense. Hence the “water off a duck’s back” comment.
Come to find out, I’m perfect bully prey. In fact, I think my photo is up on their clubhouse wall as the exact type of “chump” that bullies should come after. It doesn’t help that my favorite types of humor are often self-effacing, which adds to some people getting the mis-conception that my skin is thicker than it is. (Note: these people aren’t the stinkers/bullies, these are normal, well meaning people who don’t mean to hurt, but do because I give off this thicker skin aura.)
So, for the record people, let’s pull back the curtain and announce. The Queen has feelings. When scratched, she will bleed. She doesn’t like mean people — and has never said, “if you have nothing nice to say, sit by me.” She does not believe the world revolves around her and dislikes anyone who thinks it revolves around them. She believes everyone is due their special days and deserves a hug when they are down. She does not think she is exempt from this. She EXPECTS common curtesy from anyone who expects her to speak to them again. And here is the shocker, she does not feel that anyone is exempt from this view, no matter how long she’s known them, how related to her they may be.
It is simple, if you wish to be a part of my life, you must be nice. Play in the sandbox well with those around you. How, truly hard is this? Seems to be harder than I ever expected.
I’m not going into details (mostly because it would be too kind of me to give this bully any more fodder), though I will continue to deny the IP of stinkers (and while I realize the internet is a public place — I know that some stinkers will never stop to try to harass others). But let’s leave it as, I have stinkers in my life. I’ve matured since I was in grade school, when I’d cry in my mother’s arms over the mean girls. One thing I finally learned is that I can not allow stinkers to be a part of my life and can not let them make me run away.
A year ago, I let one bully/stinker run me out of a group of my friends. I felt so violated; it is as close to robbed as I ever want to feel. I felt that I could not live a public life ever again — in a way I became an online recluse. I hid for nearly a year. I licked my wounds and tried to regroup, but I was shaken all the way to my core. Only recently did I realize how much I was letting this bully win by running away. This stinker seems to be on a yearly cycle and has resurfaced — probably more because as I have grown stronger, finding me on Google isn’t nearly as difficult — but still. I’ve been cyber stalked by this one and it seems the bully/stinker has no desire to make nice; only to continue to hurt and hate. In this we differ most. While I have no desire or will to have anything to do with them in my lifetime, I have not now, nor will I ever seek to actively attempt to hurt them — in the stalking, show up uninvited, being disruptive to another kind of way. I will, however, not run away this time. I may fight a little writer’s block (which I will get over and someday find my funny again), but this time — I am stronger. I may not be a duck yet with no water in my downy feathers. But I’m not afraid, in fact, I’m tired of hiding.
So, if you are my friends, if I think you are pretty, if I have licked you at a party, know that I hold you very dear. I am big on the value of friendship and will do all that is within my power to never hurt you; and forgive me if the last week has seemed like odd posts from me — I had to grow up a little more. If you are a stinker, even a stinker dressed as a “friend”, be put on notice, you will hurt me only once — and I hope I won’t be satisfing prey. I may still face bullies everyday, but I don’t have to run away. If you are the bully/stinker who knows I’m refering to them, realize that your 15 minutes are up. I frankly don’t care anymore and mostly just laugh at your current pathetic attempts to hurt or interude on us. If reading this gives you the joy you need, then know I think your life is horribly empty. However, I feel no pity for your current situation — enjoy the bed you made — this is ENTIRELY of your own doing.
(Now, why am I typing with my hand up in a fist singing, “We will overcome”?)
Thank you all, I feel better now.
This is quick, mostly because this completely interupts your normal snark from me today. Less than 30 minutes ago, I sat through the first earthquake I’ve ever felt. According to the USGS, it was a 4.4 that hit less than 14 miles away. The Queen and her family are all ok — freaked out a little but ok. Nothing came off the walls and there is no damage.
I’m, um, a wee bit freaked out. It is fine and I’ll be ok — but this whole earth hiccup thing is not all that fun.
Damage Report: Seems that the quake has seriously distrubed Duke’s Light-up Tennis Shoe. It has not stopped flashing since. I can’t wait until the battery goes dead.
Years ago, when I was far younger and dumber than I am now, I met a star. A real live Hollywood star. I didn’t just meet him (actually there were two) I partied with them. I got to chat with a beer in their hands and a coke in mine (I was underaged after all). And I made a complete ass out of myself. The stars were Tim Conway and Pat Harrington; the party was a Cast Party for The Odd Couple that they starred in and I worked on. I met stars and while I never expected them to remember me for life, I think they wish they hadn’t come to the party. I was a complete ass (trying to be cool, but was an ass).
At about 3am this morning, I woke up with a start. Was it Saturday? Did I miss the vet appointment on Friday? Did I have a doctor’s appointment I should have been at? Where has my head been for a few days? It was this overwhelming feeling that I had checked out on Wednesday and checked back in on Saturday morning. But it is only Thursday morning, right?
Don’t you hate that feeling? It feels truly horrid that you misses things you had promised to do and you never remember until it is about 3am and the only thing to be done at that point is fret. Now, once I came to my senses enough to realize that it was in fact Thursday morning, that I had the vet appointment on Friday morning, and I had no doctor’s appointments planned whatsoever, I took a deep breath. Then, at about 3:10am, I started to worry, “What was I missing that would have woken me up with such a start?” I have no idea. So, if I happened to mention something to you that I’m not supposed to forget, please let me know — cause I hit clueless.