While I'm having my shower this morning I hear a horrendous crash--obviously the cat has knocked something over/down. So I call out, "Are you okay?"
Does this make me a "crazy cat lady"?
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
They like me! They really like me!
Today I was voted "Catch of the Week" by my fellow coworkers. Now I understand that most of you don't know what I'm talking about, but that is beside the point; the point is my peers recognized my contribution to the workplace today. On their own. With absolutely no suggestion or coercion from me whatsoever. Really.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Of course, those of you who know me are well aware that I'm a total sucker for this sort of thing--I was the kid who couldn't wait to get home to show mommy the gold star/happy face/A+ I got from teacher. You pat me on the head and tell me I'm doing a great job and I'm your best friend for life.
I'm not really sure why this is so important to me. My parents certainly encouraged and praised me as a child (and as an adult for that matter), and I had some wonderful teachers and other mentors who did the same, so I doubt it comes from a lack of recognition at any point in my formative years. And I'm not a butt-kisser or a suckup--I don't ingratiate myself with people to curry favour or anything like that. I don't expect a constant stream of compliments and flattery from an entourage of "yes men". I'm just really motivated by positive feedback and recognition for a job well done. Some people are motivated by money, some people are motivated by fear. I'm motivated by praise.
We all want to be liked, valued and appreciated; today I know I am all three.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Of course, those of you who know me are well aware that I'm a total sucker for this sort of thing--I was the kid who couldn't wait to get home to show mommy the gold star/happy face/A+ I got from teacher. You pat me on the head and tell me I'm doing a great job and I'm your best friend for life.
I'm not really sure why this is so important to me. My parents certainly encouraged and praised me as a child (and as an adult for that matter), and I had some wonderful teachers and other mentors who did the same, so I doubt it comes from a lack of recognition at any point in my formative years. And I'm not a butt-kisser or a suckup--I don't ingratiate myself with people to curry favour or anything like that. I don't expect a constant stream of compliments and flattery from an entourage of "yes men". I'm just really motivated by positive feedback and recognition for a job well done. Some people are motivated by money, some people are motivated by fear. I'm motivated by praise.
We all want to be liked, valued and appreciated; today I know I am all three.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
When did I get so old?
I remember with fondness the nights I could dance the whole night away until that unpleasant and awkward time when the lights came back up and everyone looked so much less attractive than they did a second ago. Ah, those were good times...good times.
Last night I crapped out at 1:15am. I made it longer than last time and I think I have the after-dinner coffee to thank for that. But that's not even to last call! Part of the problem was being the DD. Sobriety means having an accurate assessment of the passing of time--not as drinks consumed but as actual minutes and hours. Blessed are the intoxicated for they shall remain oblivious.
To be honest, the level of intoxication for most of my companions wasn't all that high. Well, with the exception of Kiki of course (poor Randy--he wasn't getting any action last night). To be fair to them, it's not the alcohol consumption that divides us on stamina--it's age. I'm old, they're not. It's that simple. Part of the problem is I have to stop hanging out with 20-somethings, but even my 30-something friends are physically younger than I. I have an old woman's body and an old woman's need to be in a warm, comfortable bed before the new day officially arrives. Sad but true, folks. You heard it here first.
So what are we doing next weekend?
Last night I crapped out at 1:15am. I made it longer than last time and I think I have the after-dinner coffee to thank for that. But that's not even to last call! Part of the problem was being the DD. Sobriety means having an accurate assessment of the passing of time--not as drinks consumed but as actual minutes and hours. Blessed are the intoxicated for they shall remain oblivious.
To be honest, the level of intoxication for most of my companions wasn't all that high. Well, with the exception of Kiki of course (poor Randy--he wasn't getting any action last night). To be fair to them, it's not the alcohol consumption that divides us on stamina--it's age. I'm old, they're not. It's that simple. Part of the problem is I have to stop hanging out with 20-somethings, but even my 30-something friends are physically younger than I. I have an old woman's body and an old woman's need to be in a warm, comfortable bed before the new day officially arrives. Sad but true, folks. You heard it here first.
So what are we doing next weekend?
Saturday, January 26, 2008
What was I thinking!?
So, it's one thing to think about starting your own blog, it's quite another to make it a reality. Who am I to think I have anything meaningful or noteworthy to add to the massive quantity of flotsam and jetsam already floating around on the Interweb? I guess for me it's a matter of documenting with some degree of permanence my experience of being me, filtered through my lens; not so much for the consumption of others but rather for my own gratification and benefit. If by some unlikely chance it serves as an inspiration (or, alternatively, cautionary tale) for some anonymous soul so be it.
Blogging by definition is self-indulgent---only an egoist (or egotist) would dare to put such intimate thoughts and details "out there" for all the world to see. Doing it for some external source of gratification is risky---what if no likes it? Or worse yet, what if no one *reads* it? I only hope I'm doing it for the right reasons without really consciously knowing what those reasons are. Maybe I'm kidding myself when I say this is just for me and who cares if anyone else likes it/reads it/knows it even exists. We lie to ourselves all the time. To not acknowledge that is the biggest lie of all.
Blogging by definition is self-indulgent---only an egoist (or egotist) would dare to put such intimate thoughts and details "out there" for all the world to see. Doing it for some external source of gratification is risky---what if no likes it? Or worse yet, what if no one *reads* it? I only hope I'm doing it for the right reasons without really consciously knowing what those reasons are. Maybe I'm kidding myself when I say this is just for me and who cares if anyone else likes it/reads it/knows it even exists. We lie to ourselves all the time. To not acknowledge that is the biggest lie of all.
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