Well I just wrote this super-sappy blog about how grateful I am for all the people in my life and all that. And then I deleted it because it sounded like a really really long greeting card. And I'm not int he business of greeting cards. Although perhaps lately I sort of have been - I do sort of feel like this blog has become my place to write about how thankful I am - like my own personal digital Thanksgiving all year long. I could probably make a lot of money for Hallmark.
But after I deleted the post, I still felt like I wanted to make a point. And so here it is. The other day I had this revelation that the word friend should really be more of a verb than a noun. Like, Facebook sort of has it right. People really do friend people. Especially the good people.
Now, I am tempted to go on this very long dialogue about all the awesome people I know who have friended me and my husband over the past few years. But I won't do that, because I have had two glasses of wine. Just remember to friend your friends. That's about it.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
A Message to the Younger Generation
This is a message that I wish I could write now and send back to myself circa 2000 - a year that was both wonderful and horrible for me, a year about which I feel both regretful and reminiscient.
Occasionally something happens that makes me close my eyes and sigh with the deep appreciation for my life as it is at this very moment in time. Today I had one of those moments, which happen more and more often lately. And today when it happened I realized that I feel remorseful about the way I treated myself in my early 20s and how unhappy I really was. I blame myself. And I don't necessarily think that hindsight would make a difference, because when you're 20 your decision-making abilities are severely compromised by all sorts of factors, not the least of which is probably the copious amount of alcohol you are most likely consuming. But if I could send myself a letter (actually I would probably send a letter once a year until approximately 2007 - so, more to come...) - this is the first one I would send.
**
A few months ago my aunt contacted me to suggest she come visit and of course I said yes. And then I mentioned it to my husband who actually was excited and is looking forward to it. Which is no surprise to me, of course, since she's awesome. This is simply a preface to a story in which I reflect on what complete douchebags I used to spend time with.
This very same Aunt one time took me and several other family members out to dinner at a restaurant at which my boyfriend at the time waited tables. She chose the restaurant on purpose and requested a table in his section on purpose. I can't recall exactly but I imagine it was because I couldn't get him to come to any family related events so we figured we'd take the family to him. And while we were at it we'd give him some business. So anyway we went and had this elaborate dinner at his restaurant, and she paid the bill. And I would never ever question her generosity when it came to the tip, not that I would ever have considered it my business or even thought about it. Until, later that night when I got a phone call from what I can only define as my parody of a boyfriend basically yelling at me about how he had expected more of a tip based on our personal relationship.
I really needn't go any further. Any self-respecting girl would have hung up and went on about her life with complete certainty that she was better off without such a total jerk. For reasons completely outside my realm of understanding, I continued to date this guy. I was mad, dont' get me wrong. I never apologized for the situation because I knew he was being a complete psycho. And yet, even knowing that 100% complete truth, I continued to date him for quite some time afterwards. And I paid for my stupidity 800 times over. Obviously a guy with enough gall to punish his girlfriend for not getting a big enough tip from her family will cheat on her without giving it a second thought. And then actually try to convince her after the fact that he wouldn't have done it if she wouldn't have graduated college a year before him and moved away. And then suggest that the situation could ultimately bring them closer together. Oh yeah.
Oh and by the way, did I mention that in college I once helped write an entire paper for this lunatic, on a subject about which I had zero knowledge, and when he didn't get an A he was mad at me! Yeah! I dated this guy! For a really long time!
So anyway, the moral of this story is that I made some seriously bad choices. And I made myself miserable for many years, during a time of life that was supposed to be fun and free. I suppose that my reward for all that sadness, anger, and frustration is that I was finally able to find clarity and focus, and then meet a nice guy with the true capacity to love and be loved. And for his presence in my life, and for the life we have together, I am eternally grateful.
A lot of people, when recalling their past decisions, say they wouldn't change a thing because their actions made them who they are today. But I have a cousin who is right now in college, the same age I was when I was in the throes of this toxic relationship. And if I were to tell her the details of my early 20s and she were to ask me what I would do if I could go back, I would tell her that I WOULD change some things. I would focus more on my friends and my classes. I would spend more time doing things I wanted to do for myself and less on trying to do things that I thought some guy wanted me to do. I would party just as much, but not with a boyfriend in mind. I would NOT have started smoking. I would appreciate every second of how beautiful and young and carefree I was and stop worrying about whether or not I was going to make anyone jealous by being confident and happy. I didn't enjoy my early 20s the way I should have, because I was too insecure and that stopped me from doing what I really wanted to do. And, looking back - I had nothing to be insecure about!
And that is my message to my dear cousin - not that she needs it, not that she asked for it - and to the rest of the late teens and 20-something women out there, and to myself back then, and to my friends back then ... YOU HAVE NOTHING TO BE INSECURE ABOUT. And if anyone makes you feel like you do, get rid of them. As the saying goes - "Be Yourself and Say What You Think, because the People who Mind Don't Matter and the People who Matter Won't Mind." One day you will wake up, you will be 32 years old. You will look a little older and a little softer than you did in your early 20s. You may have a job or a child or a husband; you will definitely have responsibilities and a path that has taken on a life of its own. Gone will be the days where backpacking across the world is a viable option; perhaps even the days where you feel comfortable wearing a bikini in public will be gone. And you will wonder to yourself if you appreciated your early adulthood and all the sheer possibilities that came with it as much as possible; you will wonder if you treated your body and soul the way it deserved to be treated. And I sincerely hope that your answer to yourself will be that YES, you did.
Occasionally something happens that makes me close my eyes and sigh with the deep appreciation for my life as it is at this very moment in time. Today I had one of those moments, which happen more and more often lately. And today when it happened I realized that I feel remorseful about the way I treated myself in my early 20s and how unhappy I really was. I blame myself. And I don't necessarily think that hindsight would make a difference, because when you're 20 your decision-making abilities are severely compromised by all sorts of factors, not the least of which is probably the copious amount of alcohol you are most likely consuming. But if I could send myself a letter (actually I would probably send a letter once a year until approximately 2007 - so, more to come...) - this is the first one I would send.
**
A few months ago my aunt contacted me to suggest she come visit and of course I said yes. And then I mentioned it to my husband who actually was excited and is looking forward to it. Which is no surprise to me, of course, since she's awesome. This is simply a preface to a story in which I reflect on what complete douchebags I used to spend time with.
This very same Aunt one time took me and several other family members out to dinner at a restaurant at which my boyfriend at the time waited tables. She chose the restaurant on purpose and requested a table in his section on purpose. I can't recall exactly but I imagine it was because I couldn't get him to come to any family related events so we figured we'd take the family to him. And while we were at it we'd give him some business. So anyway we went and had this elaborate dinner at his restaurant, and she paid the bill. And I would never ever question her generosity when it came to the tip, not that I would ever have considered it my business or even thought about it. Until, later that night when I got a phone call from what I can only define as my parody of a boyfriend basically yelling at me about how he had expected more of a tip based on our personal relationship.
I really needn't go any further. Any self-respecting girl would have hung up and went on about her life with complete certainty that she was better off without such a total jerk. For reasons completely outside my realm of understanding, I continued to date this guy. I was mad, dont' get me wrong. I never apologized for the situation because I knew he was being a complete psycho. And yet, even knowing that 100% complete truth, I continued to date him for quite some time afterwards. And I paid for my stupidity 800 times over. Obviously a guy with enough gall to punish his girlfriend for not getting a big enough tip from her family will cheat on her without giving it a second thought. And then actually try to convince her after the fact that he wouldn't have done it if she wouldn't have graduated college a year before him and moved away. And then suggest that the situation could ultimately bring them closer together. Oh yeah.
Oh and by the way, did I mention that in college I once helped write an entire paper for this lunatic, on a subject about which I had zero knowledge, and when he didn't get an A he was mad at me! Yeah! I dated this guy! For a really long time!
So anyway, the moral of this story is that I made some seriously bad choices. And I made myself miserable for many years, during a time of life that was supposed to be fun and free. I suppose that my reward for all that sadness, anger, and frustration is that I was finally able to find clarity and focus, and then meet a nice guy with the true capacity to love and be loved. And for his presence in my life, and for the life we have together, I am eternally grateful.
A lot of people, when recalling their past decisions, say they wouldn't change a thing because their actions made them who they are today. But I have a cousin who is right now in college, the same age I was when I was in the throes of this toxic relationship. And if I were to tell her the details of my early 20s and she were to ask me what I would do if I could go back, I would tell her that I WOULD change some things. I would focus more on my friends and my classes. I would spend more time doing things I wanted to do for myself and less on trying to do things that I thought some guy wanted me to do. I would party just as much, but not with a boyfriend in mind. I would NOT have started smoking. I would appreciate every second of how beautiful and young and carefree I was and stop worrying about whether or not I was going to make anyone jealous by being confident and happy. I didn't enjoy my early 20s the way I should have, because I was too insecure and that stopped me from doing what I really wanted to do. And, looking back - I had nothing to be insecure about!
And that is my message to my dear cousin - not that she needs it, not that she asked for it - and to the rest of the late teens and 20-something women out there, and to myself back then, and to my friends back then ... YOU HAVE NOTHING TO BE INSECURE ABOUT. And if anyone makes you feel like you do, get rid of them. As the saying goes - "Be Yourself and Say What You Think, because the People who Mind Don't Matter and the People who Matter Won't Mind." One day you will wake up, you will be 32 years old. You will look a little older and a little softer than you did in your early 20s. You may have a job or a child or a husband; you will definitely have responsibilities and a path that has taken on a life of its own. Gone will be the days where backpacking across the world is a viable option; perhaps even the days where you feel comfortable wearing a bikini in public will be gone. And you will wonder to yourself if you appreciated your early adulthood and all the sheer possibilities that came with it as much as possible; you will wonder if you treated your body and soul the way it deserved to be treated. And I sincerely hope that your answer to yourself will be that YES, you did.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
The Latest in a Long Line of People Being Assholes.
So I am at the end of my rope, and Adam is close. Why can't people, normal people who have jobs and homes and raise families and do grocery shopping, just learn to live amongst OTHER PEOPLE WITHOUT BEING TOTAL EFFING ASSHOLES?
Earlier this week a co-worker was verbally attacked at a meeting and almost no one even raised an eyebrow. It was all I could do not to jump across the table, sliding vaseline across my lips and pulling my hair into a ponytail on the way there (a la Jess Savidge outside of The Rat one night in college). (Not really!)
More shocking, to me, than the fact that said attacker couldn't just keep their big yapper shut and NOT insult someone was the fact that it appeared to be completely acceptable to the 15 other people in the room. This is not to say that person didn't get a talking to later on, but I seriously doubt it. This was followed by several bouts of "interrupt-itis" as I like to call it, where one person tries to get a point across and is quickly cut off and talked over by someone else in the room. The original talker practically has to beg to be allowed to complete her sentence. It happens all the time and, as I said at the beginning of this post, I am coming to the end of my rope. MAYBE I work in the rudest workplace ever, but I don't think so. I think this is just status quo, and that makes me sad.
So Adam and I manage to get through the week without having our spirits totally crushed; then we come home for the weekend and believe that we are safe in our haven of polite behavior and happiness. Anyone who knows me and Adam knows we live a peaceful and quiet existence. We get along with people. We go out of our way to help our elderly neighbor. Early today I chaesd down her nasty little dog who had gotten out of her yard, almost got bit like three times, and still managed to get that mutt back home in one piece without kicking it. We are nice people. We believe that being nice to other people will result in the sort of reciprocative behavior that we would like, in other words we expect that those around us will be nice to us as well.
Earlier this year Adam and a few other guys in the neighborhood spent a solid 48 hours on a weekend replacing a water line in our neighborhood. The line goes through our yard and crosses the street. There are two valve boxes, one in the middle of our yard and one by the street. The one in the middle of the yard goes to our house. The one by the street goes to everyone else's house. People drive dangerously close to that one. We sent a letter explaining the problem. That didn't help. So for awhile we had a PVC pipe marking it. "Someone" stole it. So we put a paint bucket by it. Today I was planting tomato plants (different story) and our neighbor drove up, stopped by the bucket, sat there a minute, then drove up and stopped by the drive way and got out of her car to approach me. She demanded if we were going to move the valve. I said I didn't know. She said the "buckets and pipes" are a nuisance. I sent her to Adam. She proceeded to yell at Adam about where our property boundary ends. She insisted the actual road goes through our yard. Fine, he said. Have the county come out and re-do the road. She didn't like that option, almost certainly because it would require some sort of effort on her part, without any bit of instant gratification. Anyway, the point of this post is that she came up in MY YARD and tried to bully us into God knows what - I'm not sure what she thought she was going to accomplish. It's not like we were going to say okay, great, just drive through our yard wherever you believe the actual road is supposed to be. Like any normal person, we're perfectly willing to have a conversation. But this is the first time anyone has even approached us about how we have our yard laid out, yet apparently it was cause for combativeness. I just don't understand it.
I have to admit that I am so GOSH DARN tired of people thinking they can just come around and bitch and yell and just in general be jerks. This is not normal behavior! And it makes me mad because Adam tries so hard to be a nice guy. Later today, I told him to move that damn bucket. People can drive over the valve all day long and when the water line breaks no one else in the neighborhood will have water. They were warned to drive carefully. I know, because we sent a letter. Well he couldn't do it. Because he was worried about everyone not having water. Because he is a NICE PERSON, not an ASSHOLE.
When do nice people become crotchety old people? At what age does the crushing reality of the world finally sink into the hearts of the good people and blacken their souls? Each and every day I feel less like being a nice person and more like being a bitch. With each trip to the grocery store, to Home Depot, to the mall - I feel a deeper urge to let a door close in another person's face or to bypass a tipped over potted plant without righting it. I am about one person cutting me off on the highway away from never using my blinker ever again.
The moral of this story: Almost everyone has a neighbor. If you are reading this, try to think of your neighbors as your partners in property ownership. They can help you! You just have to be a nice person!!
Earlier this week a co-worker was verbally attacked at a meeting and almost no one even raised an eyebrow. It was all I could do not to jump across the table, sliding vaseline across my lips and pulling my hair into a ponytail on the way there (a la Jess Savidge outside of The Rat one night in college). (Not really!)
More shocking, to me, than the fact that said attacker couldn't just keep their big yapper shut and NOT insult someone was the fact that it appeared to be completely acceptable to the 15 other people in the room. This is not to say that person didn't get a talking to later on, but I seriously doubt it. This was followed by several bouts of "interrupt-itis" as I like to call it, where one person tries to get a point across and is quickly cut off and talked over by someone else in the room. The original talker practically has to beg to be allowed to complete her sentence. It happens all the time and, as I said at the beginning of this post, I am coming to the end of my rope. MAYBE I work in the rudest workplace ever, but I don't think so. I think this is just status quo, and that makes me sad.
So Adam and I manage to get through the week without having our spirits totally crushed; then we come home for the weekend and believe that we are safe in our haven of polite behavior and happiness. Anyone who knows me and Adam knows we live a peaceful and quiet existence. We get along with people. We go out of our way to help our elderly neighbor. Early today I chaesd down her nasty little dog who had gotten out of her yard, almost got bit like three times, and still managed to get that mutt back home in one piece without kicking it. We are nice people. We believe that being nice to other people will result in the sort of reciprocative behavior that we would like, in other words we expect that those around us will be nice to us as well.
Earlier this year Adam and a few other guys in the neighborhood spent a solid 48 hours on a weekend replacing a water line in our neighborhood. The line goes through our yard and crosses the street. There are two valve boxes, one in the middle of our yard and one by the street. The one in the middle of the yard goes to our house. The one by the street goes to everyone else's house. People drive dangerously close to that one. We sent a letter explaining the problem. That didn't help. So for awhile we had a PVC pipe marking it. "Someone" stole it. So we put a paint bucket by it. Today I was planting tomato plants (different story) and our neighbor drove up, stopped by the bucket, sat there a minute, then drove up and stopped by the drive way and got out of her car to approach me. She demanded if we were going to move the valve. I said I didn't know. She said the "buckets and pipes" are a nuisance. I sent her to Adam. She proceeded to yell at Adam about where our property boundary ends. She insisted the actual road goes through our yard. Fine, he said. Have the county come out and re-do the road. She didn't like that option, almost certainly because it would require some sort of effort on her part, without any bit of instant gratification. Anyway, the point of this post is that she came up in MY YARD and tried to bully us into God knows what - I'm not sure what she thought she was going to accomplish. It's not like we were going to say okay, great, just drive through our yard wherever you believe the actual road is supposed to be. Like any normal person, we're perfectly willing to have a conversation. But this is the first time anyone has even approached us about how we have our yard laid out, yet apparently it was cause for combativeness. I just don't understand it.
I have to admit that I am so GOSH DARN tired of people thinking they can just come around and bitch and yell and just in general be jerks. This is not normal behavior! And it makes me mad because Adam tries so hard to be a nice guy. Later today, I told him to move that damn bucket. People can drive over the valve all day long and when the water line breaks no one else in the neighborhood will have water. They were warned to drive carefully. I know, because we sent a letter. Well he couldn't do it. Because he was worried about everyone not having water. Because he is a NICE PERSON, not an ASSHOLE.
When do nice people become crotchety old people? At what age does the crushing reality of the world finally sink into the hearts of the good people and blacken their souls? Each and every day I feel less like being a nice person and more like being a bitch. With each trip to the grocery store, to Home Depot, to the mall - I feel a deeper urge to let a door close in another person's face or to bypass a tipped over potted plant without righting it. I am about one person cutting me off on the highway away from never using my blinker ever again.
The moral of this story: Almost everyone has a neighbor. If you are reading this, try to think of your neighbors as your partners in property ownership. They can help you! You just have to be a nice person!!
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Buying America: Hair Fail
On Sunday I went to HEB and browsed through the hair product aisle and, without even thinking, picked up a hair curler and put it in my basket. Then I went about the rest of my shopping being very diligent about choosing only American-made items. I put nail polish back because it wasn't made in America (really, we can't make our own NAIL POLISH?). I picked out the horrifically ugly air freshener instead of the pretty ones because the ugly one was the only one made in America... of course.
I chose American strawberries, and so on and so forth. You all already know the deal with the food.
It was not until I got home and unpacked that I realized I had bought a Chinese-made hair curler.
Part of the problem was I was moving really slowly on Sunday because my friends made me go to this rock concert and do Irish Car Bombs on Saturday night, even though I really insisted on not being a part of their bad decision-making.
However, I suspect there is more to it. You see, I have wanted to try that hair curler for quite some time. It's the one that has three barrels and is supposed to wave your hair instead of curl it. Probably I subconsciously chose to avoid checking to see if it was made in America, which any of us would have not even needed to do really. Obviously anything with a cord is made in China.
The worst part is that it is a horrible instrument! I tried it out (probably should have returned it?) - and I looked like a bad 80s movie! It didn't curl my hair, it crimped it! So that is what I get I guess.
Also if anyone wants a Chinese-made hair-waver/crimper/torture instrument, I have one available for free. If not, I plan to use it once a year on Halloween.
Philosophical Question - if I buy an Irish Car Bomb at a bar in America - does it count as buying American-made or not?
I chose American strawberries, and so on and so forth. You all already know the deal with the food.
It was not until I got home and unpacked that I realized I had bought a Chinese-made hair curler.
Part of the problem was I was moving really slowly on Sunday because my friends made me go to this rock concert and do Irish Car Bombs on Saturday night, even though I really insisted on not being a part of their bad decision-making.
However, I suspect there is more to it. You see, I have wanted to try that hair curler for quite some time. It's the one that has three barrels and is supposed to wave your hair instead of curl it. Probably I subconsciously chose to avoid checking to see if it was made in America, which any of us would have not even needed to do really. Obviously anything with a cord is made in China.
The worst part is that it is a horrible instrument! I tried it out (probably should have returned it?) - and I looked like a bad 80s movie! It didn't curl my hair, it crimped it! So that is what I get I guess.
Also if anyone wants a Chinese-made hair-waver/crimper/torture instrument, I have one available for free. If not, I plan to use it once a year on Halloween.
Philosophical Question - if I buy an Irish Car Bomb at a bar in America - does it count as buying American-made or not?
Monday, February 27, 2012
I'm Going Back To College and I'm Taking My Friends with Me
Yes folks, this Saturday I am going to be in college again. I am going to put strangely colored streaks in my hair, wear inappropriately tight and short clothing, and drink my face off while listening to music too loud and dancing too late into the night.
I might wear fishnet stockings and basement boots (those boots that you cared just little enough about that you didn't mind wearing them in 2 inches worth of spilled beer and grime).
I'll probably scream in my friends' ears and sing off-key; I'll definitely eat unhealthy food and fall victim to a very *un*healthy dose of secondhand smoke.
With any luck, my husband and friends will be just as depraved as I plan on being. I'm pretty sure they'll play along.
The best part is, come Sunday we won't need to do any homework because we are going to wake up adults, wash the fake dye out of our hair (hopefully), and drive home from Houston - probably hungover - after seeing Flogging Molly at the House of Blues Saturday night.
I'm not sure I'll get anyone else to do the green streaks in the hair, seeing as they all have much more important and serious jobs than I do, but I'm pretty sure I won't be alone in the rest of it.
Here is how I know I've grown up and passed the point of no return - I just spent a few hours searching the internet for two things:
1.) A restaurant to have dinner beforehand
2.) A museum we might want to visit while we are there because the King Tut exhibit is in town
The restaurant part isn't so bad - I mean we all need to eat and we want to find a good deal for pre-gaming. This is no real departure from the good old days of slamming a bunch of beers at home before hitting the bar so that we could spend less on overpriced bartended booze.
The museum I'm not ashamed of - there's no harm in looking for some culture when you go to a big city like Houston. It's just proof that the party isn't the sole purpose of the weekend anymore - and it's always a little alarming when you get slapped in the face with that realization out of nowhere, when you genuinely thought you were planning a weekend centered around nothing more than fitting in with a bunch of Irish punk rockers.
I might wear fishnet stockings and basement boots (those boots that you cared just little enough about that you didn't mind wearing them in 2 inches worth of spilled beer and grime).
I'll probably scream in my friends' ears and sing off-key; I'll definitely eat unhealthy food and fall victim to a very *un*healthy dose of secondhand smoke.
With any luck, my husband and friends will be just as depraved as I plan on being. I'm pretty sure they'll play along.
The best part is, come Sunday we won't need to do any homework because we are going to wake up adults, wash the fake dye out of our hair (hopefully), and drive home from Houston - probably hungover - after seeing Flogging Molly at the House of Blues Saturday night.
I'm not sure I'll get anyone else to do the green streaks in the hair, seeing as they all have much more important and serious jobs than I do, but I'm pretty sure I won't be alone in the rest of it.
Here is how I know I've grown up and passed the point of no return - I just spent a few hours searching the internet for two things:
1.) A restaurant to have dinner beforehand
2.) A museum we might want to visit while we are there because the King Tut exhibit is in town
The restaurant part isn't so bad - I mean we all need to eat and we want to find a good deal for pre-gaming. This is no real departure from the good old days of slamming a bunch of beers at home before hitting the bar so that we could spend less on overpriced bartended booze.
The museum I'm not ashamed of - there's no harm in looking for some culture when you go to a big city like Houston. It's just proof that the party isn't the sole purpose of the weekend anymore - and it's always a little alarming when you get slapped in the face with that realization out of nowhere, when you genuinely thought you were planning a weekend centered around nothing more than fitting in with a bunch of Irish punk rockers.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Old Eggs
Yes, it is about what you think..
Speaking of inappropriate behavior at work -
The most inappropriate thing anyone has ever said to me at work has got to be this:
I was having a conversation with a colleague who regularly peppered me with questions about why I didn't pursue law school after majoring in English "because that's what English majors do". And I regularly explained that I wasn't interested in law school and that there are lots of other things for English majors to do - like work. Clearly I was able to wrangle myself a job, so it's not like law school is the only option. And I actually got the impression he would have felt more comfortable with me if I was in school instead of in a career, perhaps because I am a woman but more likely because I have only an English degree and therefore must need more education.
Surprisngly, that was just a lead-in and not the actual story.
What was inappopriate was when my colleague informed me that I was getting old and, therefore, so were my eggs and if I was planning on having kids I better do it soon.
I almost don't even need to say anything more, right?
Speaking of inappropriate behavior at work -
The most inappropriate thing anyone has ever said to me at work has got to be this:
I was having a conversation with a colleague who regularly peppered me with questions about why I didn't pursue law school after majoring in English "because that's what English majors do". And I regularly explained that I wasn't interested in law school and that there are lots of other things for English majors to do - like work. Clearly I was able to wrangle myself a job, so it's not like law school is the only option. And I actually got the impression he would have felt more comfortable with me if I was in school instead of in a career, perhaps because I am a woman but more likely because I have only an English degree and therefore must need more education.
Surprisngly, that was just a lead-in and not the actual story.
What was inappopriate was when my colleague informed me that I was getting old and, therefore, so were my eggs and if I was planning on having kids I better do it soon.
I almost don't even need to say anything more, right?
Leggo My Ego
I've been lucky so far in life, in that I haven't had a whole lot of exposure to the sort of grimy and inapproriate sleazebags that are the bane of so many working women's existences. (And men's too, perhaps.)
A conversation I had today reminded me of this and I got to thinking about what sort of inappropriate behavior I have endured, and just how bad it was compared to the sort of unbelievable scumbaggery that apparently actually happens out there. To real people.
I haven't experienced anything in the way of sexual harrassment. Nor have I been exposed to anger or hostility in the workplace, or a feeling of discomfort that I would feel strongly enough to report. I guess I've been pretty lucky.
What I have experienced is a general sort of inappropriateness that I am not even sure how to categorize. For example, about a year ago, I announced that I was taking a new job within my organization and would be vacating my current position. When asked, by a certain colleague, why I had made that choice, I explained that I wanted to do more for the organization and thought I would be better positioned to accomplish that via the new role. The response I got? "Wow, what an ego on you!" I was sort of taken-aback. The sort of taken-aback that is not sure how to respond and so, in the absence of the biting comeback you wish for, you stand mute trying to figure out what is the best way to handle the situation. I think I stammered something about not having an ego and that wanting to do more for your organization doesn't count as having an oversized ego, but I'm sure it came out more like this: "Um, well, uh, I don't really think... uh" So it's kind of like I didn't say anything at all.
So here is the real issue. Is it a bad thing to have a big ego? If ego means the opinion you have of yourself and your self-importance, is it wrong to have a big one?
The most assholey people I know are the ones who have low self-esteem, because they feel like they have to compensate for their shortcomings by being "toppers" and throwing everyone else under the bus all the time to make themselves look better. The self-confident ones are the ones who don't mind giving other people the credit and pursuing the greater good rather than self-gain. If that is the side effect of having a big ego - than I say serve me up another platter of self-importance. What is so wrong with wanting to find a place for yourself where you feel like you're doing some good rather than just sitting around waiting for someone to give you work? So I felt under utilized... I could have either sat around for the next 30 years being under utilized and taking full advantage of it, or I could admit that I can do more and actively seek out a place for myself where more would be asked of me. In what fucked up universe is the former the preferable option just because having a "big ego" might get me a place at the unpopular table?
A conversation I had today reminded me of this and I got to thinking about what sort of inappropriate behavior I have endured, and just how bad it was compared to the sort of unbelievable scumbaggery that apparently actually happens out there. To real people.
I haven't experienced anything in the way of sexual harrassment. Nor have I been exposed to anger or hostility in the workplace, or a feeling of discomfort that I would feel strongly enough to report. I guess I've been pretty lucky.
What I have experienced is a general sort of inappropriateness that I am not even sure how to categorize. For example, about a year ago, I announced that I was taking a new job within my organization and would be vacating my current position. When asked, by a certain colleague, why I had made that choice, I explained that I wanted to do more for the organization and thought I would be better positioned to accomplish that via the new role. The response I got? "Wow, what an ego on you!" I was sort of taken-aback. The sort of taken-aback that is not sure how to respond and so, in the absence of the biting comeback you wish for, you stand mute trying to figure out what is the best way to handle the situation. I think I stammered something about not having an ego and that wanting to do more for your organization doesn't count as having an oversized ego, but I'm sure it came out more like this: "Um, well, uh, I don't really think... uh" So it's kind of like I didn't say anything at all.
So here is the real issue. Is it a bad thing to have a big ego? If ego means the opinion you have of yourself and your self-importance, is it wrong to have a big one?
The most assholey people I know are the ones who have low self-esteem, because they feel like they have to compensate for their shortcomings by being "toppers" and throwing everyone else under the bus all the time to make themselves look better. The self-confident ones are the ones who don't mind giving other people the credit and pursuing the greater good rather than self-gain. If that is the side effect of having a big ego - than I say serve me up another platter of self-importance. What is so wrong with wanting to find a place for yourself where you feel like you're doing some good rather than just sitting around waiting for someone to give you work? So I felt under utilized... I could have either sat around for the next 30 years being under utilized and taking full advantage of it, or I could admit that I can do more and actively seek out a place for myself where more would be asked of me. In what fucked up universe is the former the preferable option just because having a "big ego" might get me a place at the unpopular table?
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