Offense, like Beauty, is in the Eye of the Beholder
Ok, so upset today.
Human nature has confounded me yet again. Having developed a rhino-hide for a skin I'm relatively impervious to other people's opinions, so it always shocks me when someone will go to drastic measures to make sure other people know they were offended. Seriously, if you take offense to something it's because you choose to. Certainly there are things that cross a moral line, but when something is said in jest you can't take it seriously. It takes too much energy to be angry about something that someone said. Energy that can be directed elsewhere.
Sure it hurts when people sling insults, but it really means nothing to me, since they're not important people in my life. They're just people I can dismiss as a waste of my time and move on. If a concern about something I've said comes from someone whose opinion does matter, I'd like to think they had enough "balls" to face me about it.
But there are still those who simply cannot take this stance, who are deeply hurt by things anyway - and it makes me angry when I feel I don't have the power to do anything to help them feel better. (That's twice this week too!) Rrr!!
Today was "password day" at work. >_< The less said about that pile of horse dung, the better. *rolls eyes*. It seems that it will continue tomorrow though, and I've finished all my worksheets, so I will be forced to mindlessly click my way through online training lessons. At least I will have my coworkers' stories to entertain me.
Don't know how the suggestion came about, but my coworker 'A' and I went hunting for freezies after work. They seem to be a hot commodity on a hot July day, as the two places we went failed to provide. The first place had un-frozen ones and the second had a single purple one left. So we ate lifesaver popsicles instead. It was such a good idea - much like ice cream on our "potty-breaks" in Greece. They'd give us twenty minutes or so and mom and I would try new ice cream things and wander about looking at scenery. Just what summer should be about.
J's better today. He decided something in the last couple of days which has made him generally happier. (Right ON) I would never have pegged him as "moody" when I first met him, but he is certainly exhibiting "moody" behaviour these days. When he's bent with 'B', nothing goes right. (Not that I don't understand the correlation, being prone to similar mood swings, but his can take up whole weeks these days.) Anyway, I hope things stay cool, since I have no idea what to suggest in regards to Doofus anymore.
I discovered that my page doesn't do what it's supposed to in Firefox, so to those of you who use Firefox or Mozilla and wonder what I was thinking when I wrote it - it shouldn't really look like that. My apologies. When I have a long enough fuse to actually tackle the issue I will fix it so it looks better. Promise! Just too freaking fiddly right now!
I need a new notebook. I'm on the last THREE pages of my notebook and I don't think I have a spare one kicking around. Seriously, there is something wrong with me!
* That someone has managed to remove the entire locking mechanism for the front door of your building three times now. * That someone else managed to remove the buzzer faceplate and "hotwire" his way inside. * That some dipshit with a rock has broken the glass out of the same door, at least once * That the landlady has been forced to place orange lights outside in the stairwells so that the local addicts can't use them to shoot up in * That there was a police take-down in front of your building * That there was a fatal shooting across the street * That the landlady evicted the dealer that was living upstairs, but can't seem to catch the pimp actually 'pimping' so she can evict him too * That your other half sleeps with a whittled 2 by 4 he called his 'beat-stick' under his side of the bed
On my winamp: Stress Assassin - Martial Meditation
First off, yesterday evening there was a police take-down outside the building. The two of us were sitting here at our respective computers, doing our respective things, as usual (J playing WoW, me playing with html and random scenes of one story or another) when there was a bunch of shouting outside and the screech of tires. Then I heard "get down on the ground!" a la many a police drama I've soaked up from the idiot box. Of course, I heard it before J did and I was out on the balcony to see what on earth it was that was happening. (I shouldn't really be surprised, I mean we've had many kinds of drama unfold in front of this innocuous grey box we live in in the past year.) There was a total of three police cars, one "ghost" SUV and two in police colours. They had a partially -clothed bearded guy (who, from his appearance may well have been homeless) face-down on the pavement. One cop had his gun trained on him while another checked him thoroughly, riffling through his clothes. Then he cuffed him. Two of them hefted him off the sidewalk and stuffed him into the black SUV. I have no idea what the whole thing was about, but J seems to think the guy may have tried to rob the store on the corner. I don't think it was that store though, since the cops response time was so quick (the store's not even a block away from us).
The landlady even came out of the building in her robe to see what was going on. J. subsequently pissed her off by complaining about the rent-hike. The man is so not himself lately.
Today I got up at 9, which might kill me tomorrow, but for some reason I didn't want to wake up. I think it was in part the fact that I had had some rum in my drink last night. Just tastes so YUMMY. I made myself something to eat and watched an episode of Alias before I hoofed it downtown.
I wasn't going to walk, because I have a perfectly good bus pass and I was taking my books back to the library, but when I got to the stop I remembered it was Sunday and there was no point in waiting. So I walked. It was a nice toasty day today and as a result I got pretty hot, but I didn't notice that until later. It was while I was walking that I noticed that I was talking to myself. Now, this isn't a terrible thing when you're at home by yourself, but when you're walking down a public street and you're having a conversation with yourself, you tend to get some funny looks. I had to keep reminding myself to do it in my head, since I was running scenes through my head for my story. Stories. Whatever. The bottom line is that I was talking to myself. In public.
I am officially insane.
Anyway, I dropped my books off and snuck into the bookstore that's nearby to drool for a half-hour. (yes, only half an hour!) Then I hoofed it back home and sat out on my deck in the sun with one of my bookshelf books. I spent a few minutes tryng to filter nature sounds from the roar of humanity outside my apartment and failed. Friday, when J and I were at the park I tried to coax a squirrel over to me, and he came very close. He probably would have come closer if the seagull that was there hadn't decided that I was interesting as well. I would have liked to have spent more time there. Perhaps I will go after work tomorrow. I realise that I miss home every now and then, if only for the closeness to the kind of quiet that's broken only by strutting deer and kingfisher laughter.
I came inside to escape the scorching I felt was imminent on my shoulders and fixed up my home page. (if you find your face on there and don't like it- I can remove it, or use another image. Whatever you like.) Of course, I didn't get much else done, because that would have been productive. I figured I'd save it for while J was home so that if I had to think about a story today I could do so without fear of interruption. (Which, these days entails endless bitching about B and his drunk-ass and idiotic behaviour.) It is, after all, my day off and I want to make the most of it. J must think this too, because even though he had three (THREE?!) days off he never did the dishes. In fact I don't even think he moved from his computer (specifically, from playing WoW) except to grab a beer, have a smoke or take a crap. *shakes head* At least he cleaned the litter box.
I am going to attempt to cook now, but first I must go and select a tomato from the corner store. (No one can say I've done NOTHING today. I did, after all, clean the bathtub and the toilet.)
I uploaded a few of my Greece pictures at flickr, to see how I liked the setup. So far so good. This is a a beehive tomb, built to house the bodies of a family. These things are ginormous, as you can tell by the size of the teeny weeny people in this picture. So the Mycenaeans built these massive cones by putting one row of stones mere millimeters towards the center until there was space only for one great stone on the top called a keystone. Then they'd bury the whole thing in the dirt until someone else died then they'd clear away the dirt and open the door, shove everyone else to the side, put grandpa in the middle and block it all up again. Apparently these are all over Greece, it's just that this one in particular is in very good shape. Apparently they'd get robbed by a thief who would take off the keystone and climb down a rope. One of these was found with the sprawled corpse of said thief where he fell on the main corpse. This one had been used by shepherds to keep warm during the winter, and the inside is all blackened from soot. The lintel in this one is a single piece of stone and our guide estimated that it was about 100 tonnes. I would not be surprised.
on my winamp: Mikael Fyrek - Fly Away From This Place
I've been playing with my pictures from Greece, since all of mine are still on CD rather than having been printed. Mom's are all in a shoebox near my desk - I think she took three times as many as I did. I was afraid that mine wouldn't turn out because I was using a camera I had never used, but I needn't have worried. Most of them turned out fabulous. This is my desktop now. That's the view from the hotel we had while we were in Mykonos - from the pool, to be more precise, since it was one of those amazing horizon pools. The water was pumped from the bay, into the pool, and then it poured off the edge and into a drain that emptied into the sea again. We had a late night swim with the mood-lights from the balcony above us and it was too terribly romantic. Mom went back up before I did. This is one place I think I have to go back to. (P.S. I wanted to see how this looked here too)
on my winamp: Marco Torrence (feat. Arcana Moon) - Real Love
As J and I walk down towards the bus I hear the scream of an eagle, and it only takes me a second to remember that it isn't a real eagle I'm hearing, but a recording that the local radio station plays to keep birds from perching on the tower. I don't think I've seen a real eagle since I saw one trying to pick off the baby herons in the park last year, and even then it was just the shape of the wing and the screeching of the parent birds that told me what it was.
Then we ride the bus to Elk lake where all the beach-bum beauties are out traipsing around in their bikinis trying to get a tan and the attention of the cute boys. This is when I realise that I'm now in possession of the dreaded cottage cheese thigh and quickly decide to submerge myself into the slightly boggy lake water in order to avoid impersonating a beached whale. I am forced to step around the strange length of white wire mesh fencing that the city has put up to stop the canada geese from shitting on the beach. Nothing more offensive to the over-groomed than getting bird-shit between thier toes. There are some sickly yellow-green fish darting around the mucky bottom that ignore me placidly as I step past them. There is an oily film on the surface of the water, left from sunscreen and other skin products of the barely-covered masses. I swim out as far as I can go without getting run over by amateur windsurfers to get away from the byproducts of my fellow swimmers. It's while I'm out there, in the cooler, emptier part of the lake, watching the ripples from the breeze skitter around me, that it hits me: The strangeness of it all. The paddle boats and pseudo-kayaks and oversize inflatable water-toys with people clinging to them like leaches. And I want to know, who are these other people, and where did they come from? They all have lives, thoughts, dreams, fears, that I know nothing about. Did I dream them up from somewhere and if I did, why did I?
Someone off to my left screams about something brushing against her leg. I ignore the freshwater weeds and swam out further, where the water is colder and fresher. I know it's an illusion. Lake water doesn't go anywhere. I turn around and see J sitting on his towel watching the people go by and the first think I think is; this is why I like rivers and oceans better. First off, the water is colder, so there are less people in it to begin with. Second, there's a current, so whatever film is washed off the other bodies doesn't linger like it does in this oversize bathtub. Even in a pool there's more water turnover than here.
J never does get in the water.
I watch him squint out the window as we head home, the breeze from all the open windows cooling his sunburned skin and I wonder, not for the first time, what he's really thinking and how I will never ever really know for sure.
We're probably going to this tonight. I've wanted to go since I first saw the sign up downtown two years ago and this year in April when there was a sign put up at an old building just down the way where people were making lanterns for it. Don't know why I didn't go last time. Probably because *someone* didn't want to come with me. Going tonight though.
I want to swim. Too much for today though I think what with hoofing it downtown and back to deposit my cheque - don't want to hoof to the lake then hoof to the park in two hours. No point. Tomorrow. Lake or perhaps even tubing down the Cow. if we can scrounge up some tubes. At some point this weekend I have to go to the library too. I have to take my books back.
I look at the title of this post with more than a little amusement. Seriously, how are we, as a species, going to conquer the unkown realms of the universe when we can't even understand members of the opposite sex? These are members of our own species for cripes sakes! Ambitious little monkeys, aren't we?
Now I'm no expert, but I've been doing my fair share of struggling with this problem. I was having a conversation the other day about how what one desires in the opposite sex, is something unattainable and/or unrealistic. I'm not just talking physically here, either. I mean we're all aware that very few of us look like supermodels or movie stars. I'm talking about the "bad boy/naughty girl" thing. This is exciting, no?
So, going with this theory, a woman wants this "bad boy" because he's daring, a misfit, exciting - nevermind what's between his ears, and she overlooks the nice guy. Everyone knows what I mean when I refer to the 'nice' guy. He's the one who's there to help pick up the pieces when the shit hits the fan with Mr. Dashing, but he never gets a piece of the pie, as it were. Logically then, a woman wants a little bit of both. And the men? well, like someone else I know said at one point, quite colourfully: "I want a lady on the street and a whore between the sheets". (Seems he's not immune to this dichotomy either.)
So, this particular nice guy's theory was that in order to get a girl to like you, you have to be mean to her. Sadly I see some truth in this, over and over and over again (*ahem*)- but then what is the relationship going to be based on? Especially if the guy is pretending to be an asshole. False expectations. In a perfect world this kind of reverse psychology would work and our Mr Nice Guy would meet Ms Right and they'd live happily ever after. (If one believes in Happily Ever After in this jaded time, of course.) Personally, I don't really see this happening, because any girl who is attracted to someone who isn't nice to her isn't going to be happy if/when that behaviour changes and the guy won't be happy because he'll get sick of keeping up the pretence. (Personally, I think I'd take the nice guy these days - it's not like he wouldn't be exciting where it counted - and you'd never know unless you actually dated him!)
Why go through all this crap? I discovered that if you just stop buying into all the crap and just act like yourself, someone will come along who will just take you as you are. Maybe that's just my eternal optimism speaking, but it does make some kind of sense, doesn't it?
I had a fairly nice weekend - I spent most of it writing bits, watching Alias and yesterday, looking at all of my pics from Greece. Yes, I got them back! I've been trying to figure out how I want to post some of them, because there are heaps of them. I think I'll try and pick out a few favourites and go from there - but that's the hard part right there. Each one brings back something from the trip that I want to share. It will be a challenge, to say the least. However, said weekend was TOO SHORT. For some reason Saturday went so fast and Sunday was filled with comings and goings of random people and loads of laundry that I don't feel like I got anything accomplished. At least not in terms of relaxing or unwinding.
I have once again hit a wall with HIWTHI (not the least of which is the freapin' title) because of a stray scene and my inability to nail down dialogue this weekend. Why? Why does this happen? I was all good with the flow and I came across another scene that I want in the story. it's a good scene, it helps explain quite a bit. I just have to figure out a way to weasel it in there without screwing up the nice flow I already had happening. I also have to iron out the character inconsistency with Eila, since she's got a role to play yet that hasn't changed (at least so far... lol). OF course this has made me hate the story today, which is horrible.
Today at "work" was interesting. Everyone was suffering from post-weekend and looking a little bleary-eyed. Had a few giggles - mostly because we were all so off-kilter that stupid things struck us funny. At least it did me. I mean come on, "back end trouble shooting" is kind of funny first thing in the morning. I also discovered that my ride is also a Red Dwarf fan. The world is ordered correctly, LOL.
(J's "business partner" decided to abscond with the truck sometime last night, which has caused J no end of grief, which is exactly what he doesn't need these days, what with the medical issues he's recently been dealing with. Sometimes I just want B's head to explode.)
Am trying to get myself used to the idea of being over here, rather than over there, so I might be doing this a couple of times before I can do so... (What can I say, typical bull, not quick to change)
Sore now and I don't know why. I suppose it might have something to do with the fact that I have been sitting in a chair all day for the past couple of weeks. Training is going all right, I mean the systems seem fairly easy, but my memory is proving to be less than reliable for where to find things. You'd think that they'd make a more user-friendly information environment for their customer service reps so that they could improve the way things ran. I don't know - I mean the systems I'm learning are far easier and user-friendly than the systems J learned but there are waay too many things to remember. I hope I can get it all in my head soon.
We did call scenarios today and I had an attack of nerves. I hate talking in front of people. I hate it. I'll do it if I have to, but I hate it. (One advantage to being a Taurus: I'll do what I have to when necessary. I can do what I have to when necessary, but I don't have to like it.) Apparently we're ahead of schedule, which is a good thing. I'm liking most of my classmates so far. There are two who I think regard me as something that dropped out of the Sphynx's nose, but that may just be my imagination. (Points if you can tell me where I stole that line from.)
I've beem getting rides with a co-worker in these past couple of days, which has been nice - means I don't have to get up at 430am, which has been a relief. I'm still not sure about the guy though, I mean he seems nice, just a little standoffish or something, like he can't exactly peg me either. Odd.
Got J to go to the doctor today, which in itself is either a major accomplishment or a cause for major concern. He has an intense dislike for doctors, having been used as a guinea pig too often, I'm sure I can understand where he's coming from, but he's missed so many days of work that it was time. The doctor prescribed some interesting peach-coloured pills that sound like they also have nasty side effects that I hope do the trick. Personally though: I don't think he was thorough enough in his questioning J. We were there for a total of 15 minutes. WFT? Do doctors get paid by the patient or something? I mean seriously, what has happened to our health system? Does no one really give two shits about anyone anymore? When did the system start to fail like this? I had to actually prod the doctor to ask questions about what J's been up against lately - but then J's not that willing to discuss what his body's doing with some stranger either, so that left them both at a kind of impasse. One plus to the man J saw today was that he wasn't prescription-happy. One could almost say he was reluctant to even write the thing.
I could seriously rant about this, because I'm unhappy with the MD I've got here at the moment too. Every time I go in I walk out with three or four perscriptions that have nothing to do with what I went in for in the first place. She even suggested that I go on antidepressants. Why? Because I was having mood swings. She didn't even ask me if I was on birth control or not. I still have the prescription. I bet I could walk in there and ask for anything and she'd just write out the paper. I mean, that's one step away from medicating myself, isnt' it? If that's the case now, what on earth do we need doctors for then? They're supposed to be the professionals, the ones who have the answers to your questions about something that's happening with your body that you don't understand, or that you know isn't right and help you fix them. If all she's going to do is give me drugs to make the symptoms go away I'd rather not go at all and let my body sort itself out. Cripes!
