YAY vacation!!!!! I don't have to go back to work until January 2nd. Tra la la........I'm so happeh.
I am not at all in a Christmas mood though. Christmas has taken a different shape for me. It all started last year. I was watching someone I love more than life suffer from a debilitating depression and suddenly the joy of Christmas seemed odd and it became just another day. As the season approached this year I was filled with memory and sadness. My heart was starting to break as it did a year ago. But you know what? The person that was suffering from the depression is now happy and alive with joy and laughter and undying love for me. So, why stay in that funk? Once I realized what was actually going on, I thought to myself, "I can make Christmas anything I want it to be."
It doesn't have to be about going in debt, people. What is THAT all about??? That's just craziness. It's really just another day. The only difference is that you don't have to go to your stupid job. Oh, and you get free shit. Here comes the corny part. Cover your eyes. So Christmas is now just a day. Nothing more. Nothing less. But I will make it a day that I look around me and I smile because I have so much. I have an honest loving wonderful partner, I have family and friends who love me unconditionally. I have a house and clothes. Really cute clothes. I have a great sense of humor and I am one healthy mother fucker. Inside and out.
But this is not just for December 25th. This is my life. Every day. And I couldn't be more grateful. Ok, you can open your eyes now. The eeeeemmmm is over.
Now go make your days special. Don't get all angry and freaky with people on the road or in stores or anywhere. Be kind and generous, fuckwads!!
Pedro: How old are you?
Me: I'm 38.
Pedro: What? You don't look 38. You look 19!
Me: Awwww! Will you marry me?
Pedro: NOOOOOO! (strange squeal, red face, etc.)
Pedro: One time a teacher asked me to marry her.
Ignacio: (10 year-old bro of Pedro) She was just kidding.
Pedro: No she wasn't, I could see it in her eyes.
I've been having super vivid dreams lately. The bad part is that I wake up often during the night. I'm not sure the two are related but I think perhaps they are. This is my professional opinion.
Anyway, I remember most of the dreams. I'll try to recall one that I was telling a friend yesterday on instant messenger. Can I just say first that I suck at instant messenger. I can't type fast enough. I have extreme spelling errors from trying to type faster. It's just down right annoying. But I try and most of my AIM pals are sweet to ignore my misspellings and they wait patiently for me to type my next thought. I appreciate that.
I was supposed to be telling you about one of my dreams, right? Ok. So I was hanging out with Ian and Shelley (a choreographer I used to dance for.) She was asking me to be one of the dancers for a commercial she was choreographing. I was touched by the offer and although it's been two years since I performed, I said yes. The next part of the dream was like a rehearsal montage. Straight out of Staying Alive. The preparation for the big event montage. Anyway, the next part of the dream, Ian and I were in a diner. We were watching TV and my commercial came on. I was like the star and shit. It was so freakn' weird. At one point my hair spun out of it's bun and it hung down past my knees just like Crystal Gayle.
The weird part is that I remember the choreography from the dream. It's not anything I ever did before. It was really good. A combination of gymnastics and modern dance. Kind of like ESPN College Cheerleading competitions. Only minus the manic dancing and the crazy smiles and the..........ok, so not at all like that. Use your imagination. Do I have to do everything?
Last night I dreamt that I was late finishing my final term paper. I was at home and there wasn't a computer anywhere. I had all the information in my head and I was going to get myself to school early and type it up before class. When I got to school, it was time for the class and the Professor was collecting the papers. I sat in my chair and wept.
So when my alarm went off this morning, I thought to myself, "I'm too tired to get up. Fuck it. I'm calling in sick. Oh shit! I can't. I have a paper to turn in." Then I snapped into reality. Reality is that I'm not even in school anymore. There is no paper. What the hell was my mind doing to me? How rude. I got up and went to Yoga and now I'm at work. No stress. No pressure. No god damned final term paper.
Wait! I just remembered another dream I had last night. There was this guy who it seems was my boss or some type of authoritarian figure and he kept trying to get me alone. It was super uncomfortable. Then suddenly we were in his house and he had his arms around me and I was struggling. Not the sexy hit hit kiss from old movies struggle. Really struggling to get away. That's all I remember. Strange.
I'm driving to work this morning in stop and go traffic. I often look around at my fellow commuters to see what they are doing with this idle time. Are they in a panic? Are they performing a Mariah Carey song for themselves to enjoy? Are they picking their nose?
Some people are just pissed off and they punch the gas and slam on their brakes. Like that helps. If anyone is in the car with that driver, they are most likely on the verge of puking or a nervous breakdown.
For me, being stuck in traffic on my way to work is a piece of cake. Who cares? I'm just going to a place I'd rather not go to anyway. It's being stuck in traffic while trying to get home. THAT makes me sad. I just want to be home already, ya know? Still I drive in a civil manner, unlike the ragers around me.
This morning I saw a first. I looked to my left and the woman in the car was applying mascara. Now, I've seen people putting on lipstick before. Mascara is a whole different concentration. You have to tightly close the eye that is not being coated with the mascara and stare into the mirror with the other eye while carefully brushing the eyelashes. Stop and go traffic mind you. One second of not looking ahead could mean a multiple car collision. How she did it? I don't know. I won't ever try this. I surely don't encourage it.
I know that wasn't very interesting. I don't really give a shit. I'm in a crappy mood anyway. Christmas is coming and I am in full Bah HUMBUG mode.
I'm dressed all nice today because I'm going to a Christmas party after work. A coworker, who says shit that she thinks is funny but it borders on mean said, "Are you going to a Halloween party?" I was just not in the mood and when I said that it wasn't funny, we got into a stupid discussion. It made it clear to me that she doesn't get it and it's not worth trying. Just make nice and ignore the stupid shit. Then be stuck in traffic for a half hour and go home. Ahhh, home........
So, I'm going for coffee with a work mate and it went a little something like this.
Me: So, how are you?
Work Mate: I feel like a clenched fist.
Me: Wow, sorry. (stifling back a giggle because i LOVED the image of the clenched fist and could totally relate.)
Work Mate: Yeah, I've been going through some new hormonal changes and it's freaking me out. But I talked to a friend who told me that this is just a thing that happens in your late 40's. She told me that when she started going through the same changes that she started taking Prozac. Now she doesn't give a fuck. Maybe that's what I should do. EVERYONE's on Prozac, though. It's the denial of the 2000's.
Me: hahahahahaha.
That's all. Funny shit, yo. However, the opinions expressed by my work mate are not necessarily the opinions of this blog writer.
I read Kris’s blog this AM and it reminded me of a story. Wrote a song about it. Like ta hear it. Here it go…………
Not really a song, but I’ll try to write a story about it.
I had an English Professor at UNO who was so OVER teaching the morons that took his class. He was surly and condescending and sometimes he was just flat out insulting. We were talking about an assignment one day when a girl from the back of the class raised her hand and asked a simple question, but she used a word that she was sure was right and my Professor proceeded to shame her.
Student: So, what pacific topic should we write about?
Professor: (almost wringing his hands with pouncing pleasure) What exactly do you mean? I don’t understand?
Student: (indignantly) The PACIFIC topic? (like……..duh?)
Professor: (enjoying himself too much) I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.
During this time, I’m wincing and shifting in my seat and apparently I must also have had a really pissed off look on my face because this is what happened next.
Professor: (looking at me) I’m sorry, but do you have a problem?
Me: Yes! You KNOW what she means! You KNOW what word she meant to say.
Professor: (with the most innocent and concerned sarcastic grin) NO, I don’t know. What word did she mean to use, Tracy?
Me: SPECIFIC!!!! She meant to say what specific topic should we write about!
Here’s where it gets weird. I’m sure the Professor was loving this part. So, I’m taking up for this girl and when I did she fucking turns on me.
Student: That’s what I said. I said specific.
Me: (aghast at the turn of events. I lashed out) NO YOU DIDN’T. You said PACIFIC!!!
Student: NO I didn’t.
Ashamed for her and her ignorance and ashamed for my rudeness and self-righteous indignation, I turned away and sighed.
I've been so busy at work lately. I've been working from the time I get to work till I leave. I imagine it will continue this way till the end of January. In my job there are busy times and not so busy times. When it's all laid back, I take advantage of that time and I forget or am in denial that it will get busy.
When it does get busy, I'm taken by surprise. I become disoriented and confused. Huh? Work? What the fuck is wrong with you people. I just come to work and write my blog and instant message with my friends all day. And you have the brass balls to march in here and ask me to do WORK? In my best Scarlet O'Hara swoon I shout, "What shall I do?" Totally pathetic!
I snap out of it when I remember that I have a sweet job with my own office. An office with a window that opens into a beautiful courtyard. An office with a door that I can close and be protected from the nosy glances of passers by. Sweet, right? Ahhhhhh, yes.
In the past I worked in cubicle farms where you had absolutely no privacy. That sucked piles of horse shit. I was always getting the life scared out of me when anyone would approach my cubicle. This doesn't happen in my office. I can see people coming. I like that.
So, I'll stop my bitching and work my ass off. I'll work till the work slows down and it gets laid back again. Then I'll forget that the "busy" is right around the corner. Oh sweet denial, come to mama.
Tuesday, December 24, 2002
