people o.d.

It's been established that I love people. The only thing is I need to add a clause to that. The clause being that I love people as long as I haven't o.d.'d (have no idea how you spell that out; overdosed for those who can't follow) on them. Which periodically I do. This being one of those times or I probably wouldn't have broached this subject.

I work with people in my profession. A lot of people. And for the most part that's what I really enjoy about my job. But there are times each year when I spend 10-12 hours a day solving hundreds of people's problems. And when I get home I have no energy to even figure out if I have any in my own life. Let alone take care of them or prevent them from even occurring. Laundry, cleaning, bills, car maintenance, health maintenance, it all goes to the wayside. Until the next thing you know every time someone I have to help asks a "dumb" question (and contrary to popular belief there is a such thing as a dumb question) I want to ask them to help with my laundry, cleaning, bills, car maintenance, and health maintenance. It's only fair.

At that point by the time I leave work each day the last thing I want to do is see people. There are a few exceptions but for the most part I'm tempted to make my standard phone greeting, "Go to hell!" Or throw it in the ocean. However, since I doubt that'd go over real well with my homies and I'd like to keep them around for when I get back to my true self I've managed to refrain from that.

This is quite challenging, though, because I have A LOT of friends. Bordering too many. I've contemplated making cuts but I really like all of them so I wouldn't even know where to start. I have a potentially bad habit of collecting friends. Anyone I think is primarily interesting and good looking I'll give my phone number to. I've not only picked men up in bars but also a good number of women (all entirely platonic much to the disappointment of men's imaginations everywhere). I'm even still friends with a fairly high percentage of them.

I have cut friends before. When they've become toxic. The ending of a friendship isn't typically as dramatic as the ending of a relationship. Usually it slowly ends until you don't even realize it was over until it's long been over. These are the ones I like because typically it hasn't been for any horrible reason. It's usually due to location, schedule, just not having that much in common, them being highly boring. But in the past year or so I've actually had to end a couple close friendships out of the recognition that they weren't good for me. And that was certainly more difficult. It was akin to breaking up with a boyfriend. I think. I've never actually broken up with a boyfriend. I've definitely ended more than my fair share of relationships before they even got to the second, third, fourth dates but I don't think that necessarily qualifies as dumping. I'm supposing it's similar. Although, while it's more difficult than just naturally letting the friendship die, I must say it's much easier to be on the dumping end than the dumpee end. There's a lot to be said for seeing it coming and already knowing it's the best thing for you.

But as I already said before I digressed into what should probably be an entirely different post, I don't have any that I currently want to cut. And so this week alone I've had/have three different birthday celebrations lined up while all I want to do is disappear beneath my covers with some popcorn, Harry Potter (even though I've already read all the books) and perhaps a cute boy (if he doesn't talk all the better).



Perfect illustration of how I feel

sports at the grocery store

I was at the grocery store Saturday morning getting some things for work that day. Despite having to work on Saturday (not that I still necessarily agreed with it)I was in a pretty good mood, which motivated the man (I wouldn't necessarily say he was homeless but he was certainly a little out there) behind me to start telling me about how our respective cashier loved the Clippers but the one next to him loved the Lakers and how they'd go back and forth. He asked me if I was a basketball fan. I was tempted to answer, am I a basketball fan?! But he didn't know that so instead I told him that I was. He asked whether I supported the Clippers or the Lakers. I said, "Neither. I'm a Pistons fan!" He looked surprised but unantagonistic, which is not what I typically expect from LA fans, and asked how long I've lived here. I said, "Almost five years." He said, "And you haven't converted?" I said, "Never! I've been a fan since birth." He nodded his head as though it made sense. He then began to give our cashier a little bit of lip regarding the Clippers performance the night before. Next thing you knew all of the middle aged men in line (I was the only person who didn't fit that category) were chatting sports with me and very excited about this. As I paid for my groceries they all said good-bye to me and told me to stay a sports fan. I assured them I would and walked out of the grocery store with enough street cred to last me at least through the year.

curling

Since the Olympics began I've seen different polls and lists debating who the hottest 2010 Winter Olympians are. Based on the options they gave me I only agreed with the Bode Miller nomination. Then, my roommate and I discovered the sport of curling. Well, we'd known about it previously but had only witnessed the women's competitions, which has me convinced I could become a world class curler by 2014. By the time we figured out there was a men's competition too it was nearing its completion. Such a bummer because it contained the hottest guys outside of World Cup soccer! My roommate and I were on our way out to get breakfast, happened to catch a glimpse, and contemplated not eating until the competition was complete (even if it took the rest of the Olympics). Who knew there was this hidden gem of eye candy? Here are some sights to enjoy:

a minus

I'm an overachiever. Or at least I used to be. And I'm not stating that in an effort to brag or say I'm super fantastic or anything like that. Personally I think anyone can be an overachiever should they choose that route. It simply requires tuning out anyone in the near (or far) vicinity who could possibly rain on your parade. I definitely grew up with some odds to overcome but incapable was never a word I heard out of my parents' mouths. And so I made it well into junior high believing all 5'2" of me would some day dunk a basketball in the NBA.

Something happened toward the end of high school/beginning of college to change that. I couldn't pinpoint a single moment or even moments. Perhaps it came with the difficulty of getting a college to look at me for soccer despite some pretty outstanding stats. Perhaps small town syndrome had finally caught me. Perhaps the accumulation of the naysayers' words had finally registered. Or maybe I simply tired of the high energy it took to overachieve and said eff it when I entered college.

I spent the first semester of college setting the record for least classes attended without flunking out and achieved the grades to reflect it. Not that they were particularly bad grades by most standards but for me they were the lowest I'd ever seen in my life. I suppose it was a sort of rebellion I'd never had before. 'Course the only person impacted by my rebellion was myself. Not that the grades were what hurt me. I still finished college with a high enough GPA that it would benefit me in whatever I wanted to do. But something changed with that and I became more sensitive to others' criticism, believing them to the point that I didn't go for things I wanted that I wouldn't have thought twice about going for when I was younger. And sadly that's followed me to this day... or at least it has partially.

I've gone on and attained a Masters degree with flying colors but as far as acutal career accomplishments I feel as though I haven't achieved anything. And I know achievement isn't measured on awards or accolades or anything that can be statistically analyzed. A lot of people look at me and say things like, "Wow! You're really doing something to help the world. You must really love it!" or "How fulfilling!" or "Wow, you're really doing good for others." Howevever, when I know I'm involved in something not entirely fulfilling to my soul it doesn't feel that way to me. I know what I've done in the past and am doing currently is helping others but I have a lot of mixed feelings with that. One being that I feel it's kind of arrogant to assume people need me (or anyone) to help unless they ask for it. And it seems to me that while the goal of non-profits is to uplift people the words and techniques utilized to do so more often patronize. I could get into a whole long spiel regarding this but this is a side topic to the point of this post so I'll save that for later.

I suppose I feel sort of that I got into social services in part because I lost sight of my dreams (professional athlete, best selling author, creative inventor, etc.) and maybe I wanted to ensure that other children never let that happen to themselves. However, if you aren't entirely what you want to be then you can't be a complete role model to others and now I'm realizing that. If I'm able to follow my authentic dreams then I'll naturally help others to do the same.

There's a feeling of helplessness that accompanies this realization. A feeling of begin stuck on a hamster wheel. Difficulty breathing. And it's quite reflective in my current position. I'm a firm believer in life reflecting to you what you need to learn in order to grow and develop and it's never been so obvious. I've been in my current job position for just over two years now and have felt stuck there for almost that entire time. I knew going in I was overqualified for the position but it was the time when the economy started taking the blame for everything. And I needed a full time job at that point to make the bills. I figured I'd work there until I could find something else. But something else never came along and I justified it because I was finishing my Masters and then I was too tired after working and going to school full time to look for another job and then I was applying to PhD programs. Now that I'm done with all of that it's readily apparent what a horrible position I've put myself in. I work for an organization that takes advantage of the kindness of others, doesn't encourage and develop their employees' skills and abilities, and in fact, takes it a step further and attempts to bring them down a notch. And I take full responsibility for being in this position. I'm the only one who can give away my power.

So I've spent the last couple months figuring out how I can get out of this position and so much is pointing toward just up and quitting. I know simply being here is holding me back because I question myself and what I'm capable of on a daily basis. So much so that even though I know this is something I need to do for my welfare I'm unable to do it because I've become paralyzed with the fear of not having a paycheck. It's amazing how much something like that can be used to control a person (or an entire population). And that's not someone I want to be.

This was completely thrown in my face this past Fri. when my co-worker and I were training some college students for the program we run and our executive director (who's a case study in and of himself) attended it. This was the first time in his two and a half year tenure with this organization that he'd been to one of the trainings we conduct (despite it being an extremely important part of what we do). Half way through there was a bit of a break and he went off on what a great job we were doing. He then continued to go off even further on how amazing my co-worker was and what a natural she is at it, and she's definitely an A+. Then, he casually turned to me and said, "And you're like an A-" He didn't have any idea that what he'd said was completely inappropriate despite the looks of shock on both myself and my co-worker's faces. I wanted to say, "Well, if that's how you feel then see how you do the rest of the year without me," and walk out. But I wasn't about to do that in front of the future volunteers we were training.

But really I was a big, fat wuss. If I'd had a few more balls I would have walked out. Because this isn't the first time he's done things like this, particularly to me. He's constantly commenting on how wonderful my co-worker's writing ability is but that he's here to help me develop mine. It's absurd because I feel like writing, teaching, and public speaking are actually three of my biggest strengths (I could be the delusional one, though ) and he's one of the only people ever in my life to think I suck in these areas. I don't know why he feels the need to put me down but I've had all I can take. Everyone says to talk to him; however, I've already done that, as well as addressed it to others and obviously nothing's changed despite my high hopes that things were different. I like to believe in the best in everyone but I know he isn't a good person for me to be around if I want to achieve all I dream of. While I know an A- isn't bad I don't want to be an A- in my life, I want to be the A+. And somehow that's what I'm going to be!

backing that arse up

I love to dance. Anywhere. Anytime. With anyone. Well, okay, almost anyone. I'm pretty adverse to dancing with those boys who think it's appropriate to approach a girl at a club by humping her butt. I like to be twirled, dipped, and don't even mind some dirty dancing once I'm comfortable with my dance partner (which comes after the face to face twirling and dipping); however, there's something entirely too primative about the butt approach for me. I'm really not into alpha males who are still in the beginning stages of human evolution. Particularlythose who love to advertise that at dance clubs.

That being said I still love to go out dancing. In fact, that's the only reason I enjoy clubs at all. Otherwise I'd be okay without ever experiencing that meat market. Other drinking establishments are different. Sure people go there to hook up but just as many go simply because they have a friend in town, it's someone's birthday or they've tired of drinking in their own home. It seems to me that the only reason to go to a club is to dance or hook up. Sometimes both happens. And that's fine. I'm not against people getting their groove on with random strangers. I am against the approach most men use to get this groove on (and really women too but that's not for this post). I've actually dated a guy I met at a club dancing... for a solid three months (long term relationship in my book).

And even with that experience I would still never expect to meet a man I could potentially have a relationship with at a club. A regular bar (or maybe a Snoop Dogg concert) for sure but not a club. This was never more obvious to me than this past Saturday when I went with a group of friends to a local club. I suppose I should keep in mind that this was a club notorious for a much younger, slightly less sophisticated crowd and it was the night before the big Vday so the vast majority of the people there were probably single, lonely, and looking to score. Or maybe those were just the ones I interacted with...

At any rate I was approached from behind by no less than two dozen males (and I know they were males even without turning around), asked for my phone number by at least half of them and some who had the balls to approach from in front, as well as invited home that night by two of them. The quickness in their approach to conquer was admirable. I'd never seen anything quite like it because although I was highly intoxicated I'm certain I wasn't giving off the have your way with me signals. Although I suppose high intoxication alone might give off these same signals. These men had no qualms about approaching those wearing a ring on the fourth finger of their left hand, those standing next to their large male significant other or those who use the word NO without mumbling (although slurring might sound like mumbling to some) over and over.

Now lest you think I'm getting a big ego about all of these men wanting to be with me I know it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that it was me. It was solely because I have boobs and an arse... and other body parts. And the next day was the big Vday and they were lonely and horny. I know this because soon as I said the word no enough times for them to realize I wasn't actually saying yes they moved right on to the next gal with absolutely no shame in their game. And these gals were literally standing right next to me. Some of them being my friends. Needless to say I had to fight the extreme temptation to hand them my digits.



Sometimes you have to get onstage to escape the butt humpers

old(er) men

I'm fascinated by the sheer amount of older men who'll chase after younger women. Well, maybe fascinated isn't the best verbage, grossed out, repulsed, disgusted might be more appropriate. And by older men and younger women I don't mean 5-10 years, I'm talking more 20-30+.

It isn't even the age difference that grosses me out. I understand that love manifests in not entirely socially acceptable ways and that it's fantastic when two people can overlook our societal constraints and live happily ever after. I completely understand that sometimes you're working, volunteering, collaborating with someone not even remotely near your age group and feelings develop based upon shared interests, values, and just plain sexual attraction. What bothers me is when these men only seek out women significantly younger than them, like it'll keep them in Neverland or something. At that point the courtship feels almost predatory and dirty.

The inspiration for this post comes from a male senior citizen (I am not kidding, at least 65) that approached me on this recent past big Vday as I walked back to my car from surfing. He initially inquired about my surfing experience, which was fine. I typically have conversations with older men about surfing since they're about the only surfers I ever come into contact with (that and teenage boys; still can't figure out where all the guys my age that say they surf paddle out) and they're usually really fun and informative to chat with. Then, the senior citizen turned predatory and told me there was this band playing at a bar down the street that night and would I like to be his Valentine's date? Now, there's a difference between someone who's just teasing about such a thing and someone who's dead serious. I didn't sense any inkling of jokes in this man's voice or expression. My look of shock must have given away the fact that I wasn't entirely (or at all) interested because he followed up with, "Oh, do you have a man waiting for you at home?" The look of shock certainly didn't disappear as I wanted to reply, "Yeah, this look of shock has absolutely nothing to do with the obvious 30-40 year age gap here," but instead I just told him I had a handsome, much younger stud waiting for me at home, probably butt naked in my bed (Okay, I didn't quite say all that either.).

This isn't the first time this has happened to me. And I've seen it happen over and over to other young ladies. And some of them eat it up. Perhaps because they have low self-esteem. Perhaps they think he has money. Perhaps they know he has money. Perhaps they think it's funny. Perhaps he's Hugh Hefner (most disgusting person in the world aside from serial killers) and she wants to be a playmate. I don't really understand it because I get the "I want to puke in my mouth" feeling when approached. I can feel the desperation and it isn't attractive. At the same time I can understand it. They've probably been playboys their entire life and women their own age certainly aren't going to put up with that. At a certain point it becomes difficult to teach most old dogs new tricks. However, it still isn't attractive behavior. And so as not to sound sexist this goes for older women and younger men too. True love (regardless of age) equals cute while preying on those who aren't entirely emotionally capable of making sound romantic decisions equals not so cute.

overheard randomness part tres

Young woman on the train chats on her cell phone to who knows who. She's larger than average (to be nice) with her butt crack hanging out of pants that are certainly three sizes too small and a shirt that shows more of her stomach than even Giselle should. Her hair looks like it hasn't been brushed (perhaps even washed) in the new year and I'm pretty sure her breath smells (not being nice). Her conversation goes something like this, "First Tyrone came over last Sunday. Then, as soon as he left Jason called me. But I told him he couldn't come over. I mean, it's Sunday. I can't have two guys over on a Sunday. It's the lord's day. So he came over on Tuesday cuz he had to work Monday... No, no one came over on Monday. But Wednesday night I went out with Jill and met this guy. I don't remember his name but he came home with us... No, nothing happened... I'm not doing that on the first night we met! Plus Tyrone was coming over the next morning for breakfast. I had to get new dude out fast. And Jason wanted to get together that night. I don't know how this happens!"

Two seemingly normal guys stare, their mouths agape. I'm guessing they agree with her last statement.