A little bit of an introvert

I have these moments, when I really really can use some company. It’s few and far between. I used to believe that there was something terribly wrong with me because I didn’t want to leave my house. There’s a part of me that is truly strange and obsessive. I can watch the same TV show over and over again (see Doctor Who and Torchwood). I can listen to the same album over and over again. I can also do the same things over and over again. It’s a vicious cycle.

When I was younger, living in Los Angeles, I found it so much easier to fill my life with all of these random outings. I planned events and invited people. I made day trips and weekend trips. I flew up north and drove to Mexico on a whim. I went to strip clubs and dive bars on the weekends. I went to Reggae dance clubs on Thursday nights and hung out on rooftops on the weekends. It is only because of these experiences that I have so many stories to tell. I have so many experiences that seem out of this world, and I would never trade a single moment of it for anything.

During this period of my life I found myself up in arms with drama. It never left me. I felt great anxiety and tension. I started smoking at 22 because of the stresses of my life. It never once occurred to me that I might be programmed differently, that maybe my social calendar was to blame. At least, not until fairly recently. I was reading Laurie’s blog on Valentine’s day, and her entry really touched home with me in many ways.

I don’t venture out for long stretches at a time. I don’t socialize in the same ways that I used to. Even as recently as a year ago I was found outside of my home more than I was home. Something changed though. School truly became one of the most important things for me. I set a goal. I wanted all A’s. The only way to achieve this goal was to make sacrifices and dedicate the time and energy needed to get this. I didn’t get all A+’s, but I did get all A’s. This feat is one that I have not been able to cherish in a very long time (3rd grade).

When I cut out cable, I also found that I had a lot more time available to get my homework done, preemptively get my reading done before the quiz/exam/final/paper was due. And now that I’m no longer in school, having recently graduated, I have all of this free time to do as I please.

The choices I made growing up has given me the perfect, and often selfish, opportunity to do whatever I want with my time. I can spend 6 hours playing Bioshock if I so desire. I can go to the gym. I can knit. I can play WoW. I find that as long as I’m willing to give myself the chance to do the things I like (and trust me, I have a billion and one hobbies to divide my time with) and love, and not feel guilty.

I still go out, occasionally. I still find time to socialize and be a part of the rest of the world (outside of the work environment). My tendency now is to limit this to a small number of people rather than large gatherings. I’d much rather have a good 1 on 1, instead of yelling over bar noise. This doesn’t mean that the bar is a bad place to hang out, it just means it’s not my place to hang out.

And so, I quote Laurie, because really, I couldn’t have said it any better myself. It truly is exactly how I feel.

“Listen: I’m thrilled for those who meet someone that sets their heart on fire and makes their life colorful and full. And I’m relieved to see not everyone has to follow my path to be happy. There are so many roads to personal fulfillment, even ones I never expected. I’m happy for all of us, those who fit the bill and those of us who wandered a bit. We create a new happy each day, each in our own way. The woman who chooses to be a single parent. The woman who chooses to divorce and live with her partner without a contract. The woman who marries another woman. The man who proposes to his boyfriend. The woman who falls in love at 63 and meets THE ONE and he’s only 57. Or the woman in Los Angeles who has three cats and a room of yarn and is astonished to discover she is happy all alone, for once in her life she has the say on everything and it makes her heart sing. She feels generous because she now has just enough.”

Putting Life Back Together

Now that the big decision of “to move or not to move” had been dealt with I’m faced with the reality that I’ve let a fair bit of life slip by the last couple of months. At times I think it’s because I wanted someone else to fix it for me. That going away was going to magically make it all better. Really, it wasn’t. It was a night thought though.

Up until a few days ago life was stuck in limbo. I wasn’t sure what was going on, or where I was going to be. I was wondering daily whether I had made the right decision, or contemplating the severity of… well… all of it. Once the final decision was made (and it wasn’t mine to make, mind you) it felt as though this huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I didn’t have to wonder anymore. I didn’t have to weight the pros and cons. It just was.

Over the course of the last few weeks I’ve been slowly reading through all of Laurie’s blog entries. There’s a funny connection that you can make to a total stranger when they put their entire life on the internet for you to read. It’s so very personal and real. I feel like I know her and that we’ve been friends forever. I’m not delusional, but it just feels like that.

Over many of the months in 2008, and even in 2007, she had yard sales. She decluttered and got rid of things. She stopped buying excessively. She put an end to all things clutter in the home. I know this feeling. This desire to have some semblance of control over the mass quantities of things is one I’ve felt for a long time.

Part of coming to the realization that you may move to the other side of the planet is the idea that you will not have to pack all of your belongings and decide if it stays or goes. And of those belongings, what is worth keeping and what is worth giving away, throwing away or selling in a yard sale. This is completely overwhelming. Completely. The first time I thought about it, I nearly cried. I think I did at some point, but not the first time. The first time made me gasp.

Since I’m not going anywhere and I’m staying right where I am in my tiny little apartment I’m going to have to seriously reconsider the quantity of stuff I have. I tend to keep things because there’s a memory attached to it. I want to remember who gave it to me, the moment in which I received it and all that nonsense. Except, when I really think about it, do I need to keep holding onto stuff that I never use? Stuff that I only occasionally look at and think, “Ahhh, I remember that day” until it goes back into yet another box and is forgotten for another year?

I don’t think so.

I made some progress last night. I went grocery shopping. Not just for tons of food (which I bought) but for stuff that I will actually eat. Another great thing I picked up from Laurie is the “No Dieting” concept. I’m not going to diet, per se, but I’m going to keep as much junk food out of my home as possible (so as not to be tempted) and I’m going to keep stuff I like and is healthy. Even if I eat mostly the same thing every day. So I bought a lot of frozen stuff that’s not filled with mass quantities of sodium and fats. I bought stuff that’s slightly better for me and will keep in the freezer for awhile. These ready-made meals are not for taking to work. They’re for those days when I’m holed up in my apartment and instead of ordering pizza, I’ll grab one of those. I mean, I really need to cut back on the pizza ordering. I actually got irritated that the online ordering system wasn’t working and I had to *gasp* call them!

And so I start the process of reorganizing, and removing a lot of the stuff I’ve been carrying around with me for years. I don’t need most of it. I don’t need much of it at all. It’s time to say good-bye to all those boxes and label the boxes I do have so that I can read them and find what I’m looking for more easily. I want to rearrange my apartment and find a much happier medium between computer, television, yarn and cat.

It’ll be a long process (since I just read that for Laurie it took many months and even years), but it’s going to happen.

And all of this while trying to knit Xmas gifts and write a NaNoWriMo novel. November is proving to be very interesting already.

Harbor of Learning

Working here at the Small Town Hospital, like many other hospitals, the staff have to take these little quizzes to make sure we remember and know about things like airborne or bloodborne icky goo stuff, how to handle fires (electrical and chemical), and a handful of other things. Since I am not part of the licensed/Doctorly/patient-take-carey staff, my quizzes consist of only a handful.

It’s lucrative business. I’m not sure how the whole thing works, or even how well it actually gauges knowledge of anything, but it’s really rather silly. Each employee has to take them yearly.

I can honestly say that I don’t even think they change any of the questions. You have to pass each quiz (which is anywhere between 5 and 8 questions) with an 80% or higher to move onto the next one. At the end of each quiz it tells you which answers you got correct and which you got incorrect. Jot these down, cause you’ll use them later. Now comes the tricky part. Take the quiz again and change the wrong answers (usually they’re True/False questions) and resubmit.

Again I say, I don’t know how accurate it is at actually gauging anyone’s knowledge or understanding of the material. I personally don’t even believe that the questions change over the years.

There is one question, though, that I get wrong every time. Not because I’m an idiot, but because it is genuinely wrong. Taking into consideration that the quizzes and the questions were created many many years ago. And the questions have been slightly modified to reflect the current standards of the healthcare world, some need to be updated.

The question is a True/False. It simply says: The customer is always right. I answer false. False. False. False. Every time. False. The answer to get 100% on the quiz is True. But alas, that is not, realistically, the correct answer.

Working in retail and food service, I remember this mantra being pounded into my head from long ago. As time passed and lawsuits increased, this mentality has changed. The customer is NOT always right. A lot of times they’re not even close to being right. They’re in the “wrong” ballpark and they’re batting a 1000.

All of my schooling has taught me a lot because the field of Psychology is ever changing. It’s so hard to point your finger and say “yes” and be absolutely positive that that is the answer. There’s this grey area. Especially because the majority of Psychology involves the ever-flawed human. Things change within a person and their thought processes daily, hourly, etc. Let alone attempting to take into consideration the vast differences between each of us. We can find like-minded people to befriend, but there is no other person who thinks and feels exactly the same as I do. Or you.

So the “customer is always right” is inherently flawed in it’s very nature.

Consider each person’s level of knowledge. We can all have gone to the same schools, got the same grades and been taught all of the same information, but each of us will remember and retain different bits and parts. Nothing wrong with that. Until it comes down to who is “right” and who is “wrong”. Especially if those are the ONLY two choices. When you put something as black and white as right and wrong into the mix, you throw the proverbial monkey wrench into the mix.

Customer is complaining that they were treated unfairly by staff. Okay. That is their perception. If looking at exactly what Staff Person did, and how they talked and treated the Customer nothing on paper is wrong, does that mean that Customer was truly wronged? Yes, but only in that it is their perception and who are we to judge and decide how a person thinks and feels outside of ourselves. If, however, Customer said, “Staff Person called me an asshole” is Customer then right? If legitimately Staff Person did not call Customer an asshole, this mantra and belief that ‘the customer is always right’ puts Staff Person at fault 100% of the time. Without question. Without investigation. Without fail.

Let’s say for arguments sake that Staff Person did call Customer an asshole. Does it immediately put Staff Person at fault and should then be punished? No. There is always a story. There are also always 2 sides to a story such as this one. What if Customer called Staff Person’s mom a whore? What if Customer threw something at Staff Person’s head while they were trying to walk away from the otherwise heated situation? What if Staff Person had just had enough with Customer’s bad attitude and it was just bad timing? What if Staff Person has now worked two doubles (being on the floor doing patient care for a total of 24-hours) and snapped at a normally regular situation? Staff Person is still human, after all.

As human’s we’re expected to act professional at all times, especially in a service industry such as medical care. The problem is, the customer is not always right. Over the years I have had to curb and tone down my initial instinct to fly off the handle, declare unfailing stupidity, and scream my fool head off. I still have little to no patience for stupidity, but I also have to keep myself in check with regard to these declarations.

And when I am the customer wanting my wrong to be righted, I will gladly accept that I am not entirely right and often working on limited knowledge of what I’m wanting fixed. This does not make me infallible. Nor does it make any of you.

Reservations and life

For months I’ve been fighting an internal battle with myself, life choices, and opportunity. Finishing school places a seal upon life and forced me to face an undeniable truth… I have to go out and make that degree pay for itself. Getting my degree when I did means that I’m avoiding a sinking ship of rising tuition costs and less money available to help pay for everything. I’m also stuck with the realization that the economy is a tight environment for jobs and the competition will be fierce. Over saturated with too many people, and jobs that exist not being available until the state passes a budget. It’s a never ending, and terrifying, reality.

Then life seems to be taking it’s toll on me as well. Failed relationship after failed relationship, all with the hope that things will be good this time. This will be one to keep. For months I’ve been reeling with emotions that seem to be beyond my scope of understanding. All that education, all that psychological learning, and I can’t make sense of myself.

Am I walking down a familiar path for that exact reason, it’s familiar? Will there always be lingering doubt? Will I continue to question myself and others out of jaded fear and resentment for all of my life’s failures? For every step forward in the right direction will I find myself looking over my shoulder wondering today if things could have been better if I had chosen a different path back yesterday.

Questions with no answers. Certainly no one I know can do the answering. The hardest thing for me is grasping and understanding which emotions are the real ones. There’s a fear inside that makes me question myself, my motivations, and invariably my choices.

No one is perfect, and I am definitely not exempt from this rule. Would making a choice that I’ve made before (only to see it destroy me and try to take me down) again be the right one? Am I foolish for hoping for something better this time? Or am I setting myself up for a landmine of destruction. Familiar destruction. I’ve been here before. I’ve been strong all this time and adamant about my choices, and for the first time I’m admiting, aloud, that I’m faltering. I just don’t know how to cross that line. It’s like being in an alternate reality where just enough is familiar to not send you screaming, but it’s different enough to be awkward.

The Pondering of a lost mind

I’ve recently upgraded to the newest WordPress. I was a little scared given the disaster from the last time I upgraded… but thus far everything is working smoothly. This new dashboard will take some getting used to, no doubt. I suppose as wtih everything, it will only be a matter of time.

I am currently procrastinating and refusing to work on a paper that I know I definitely need to do. Distraction and procrastination are very easy. The actual writing… not so much. I suppose it wouldn’t be nearly as bad if it weren’t something so obscenely personal.

I keep hoping that I’m going to write more often, but I have this feeling that it’s not likely. I lost my “writer” domain. Not sure how that happened, but the registrar wants a ridiculous amount of money for me (the owner) to get it back, beyond just the domain fee. I’ll try to see if I can’t snag it once it’s available, but if I lose it, then, well, it’s lost. I suppose I could just find another… something that speaks to me in a similar way. I’m not sure though. I had the two domains because this one was my “online persona” for so long. And the new one was me now. I’m saddened, but I’m trying not to let it affect me to the point of tears. It’s an intangible thing, y’know, when all is said and done. It’s just a silly little webplace. Nothing super important. Maybe before working on this paper, I can look for a new one… maybe.

And now that at least an hour has passed and I’ve accomplished all of nothing for this paper, I think it’s time to close all windows and get to it. *sigh* I had such high hopes for this blog entry too. Ah well. Off tow ork I go!

Perceptual changes

My first semester of University was an interesting one. That strange feeling in the pit of my stomach as I ventured onto an unknown campus. No, I didn’t tour the campus before deciding on a school. It was literally the flip of a coin. I had two choices and only enough funds to apply for one. I picked one, got in, and the rest is history. That first semester I made two friends. Steve and Cindi. We met in our History of Rock class. I had the handful of people I spoke to, but mostly I stuck to myself. None of the friendships from that first semester became anything. Except with Mike (who obviously became my boyfriend after the second semester).

There’s a certain perception of people when you’re in class. I know that I have put myself into significant amounts of debt in order to be in school. Not everyone is in my boat. This is just part of the course of life. I had to struggle to get there. I had to deal with many ups, but mostly downs. I’ve had help from strangers, and help from friends. My father has helped me in more ways than I could ever count. So when I’m sitting in class, I’m there for a purpose… to learn. I’m not there to listen to the two stupid blonde girls chattering away as though they were at a baseball game (the one’s I’ve often shushed). I’m not there to listen to people whisper loudly in the middle of something a professor has just announced will be on a test/exam.I’m there to listen, and learn. Most… however… don’t understand this.

This semester has broken many molds. There are those who I wrote off as retarded, insignificant, annoying and any other negative term I could possibly imagine. And I’ve become friends with many of them. This Psychology 101 class has brought a group of people together that would not otherwise have been friends. I know this for a fact. We vary so much in age. We vary in background, previous education that led us to being in this class… but mostly, the proximity of our lab has yielded me some of the best friends I’m likely to make while in college.

The big plan next thursday after class… we’re all getting drinks. Together. As a whole unit. Because we endured. We made it through, by the skin of our teeth, but we made it through. All the tears, the sweat, the frustration and the annoyances will bring us to the same place. People I would never have sat with in a bar, I will sit with. We will all toast to the end and the finality of the semester. The hell we’ve all endured will be over. We became a family, that small group of us. We had a common bond, but it was more than that. It was the intimacy. The humor. The laughter we shared.

There is no better feeling in the world, than to find friends in people who previously annoyed the living shit out of you. I am one who LOVES and relishes in the fact that I can be wrong. And I was.

I will miss all of these people greatly… but come Thursday… we’re getting drunk!

An Amazing Birthday

So the boy bought me this wonderful stash of candy goodness… avoiding chocolate (and while I love chocolate like the next guy, he knows I’m much more a sugar person having a strange affinity for gummy candies especially). He also bought me this insane stash of book. Not just any books. But books he’s seen me wander around the bookstore with, desperately wanting to buy, but always putting it back because it’s just out of my price range for the minute.

He also got me this framed watercolor painting that his roommate did. He remembered the first time I saw all of Garnier’s paintings, how much I said I loved this one in particular. So he bought it for me. It’s being hung immediately when I get home. That to me, beyond the books and candy, means a whole lot. A whole lot.

I’ve quite thoroughly enjoyed having internet and being able to use my blazing fast computer again. How much I’ve missed having internet at home. That will definitely be one of the FIRST things I reestablish the second I get some money. The first.

There are some new pictures on Flickr. If I weren’t in a hurry, I’d add them to the post. Maybe later.

Soul… persons

Amongst my closest friends, there are aspects of my life (mainly my online life) that they know nothing about. There is a reason for this, and the reason is meaningless for anyone but me. There is a certain amount of insight into me as a person here though, that I’m almost sad that these friends will never get to see. I bitch to these friends when the boy makes me angry. I laugh loudly with these friends at Starbucks when someone farts and the smell chases all of us around the corner. These same friends are crude, tattooed, pierced, weird, different… but we all fit somehow. But they do not know about this place… and it’s highly unlikely they ever will. Except for one, but I’ll get to him shortly.

It’s been a long time, and the last person I can really remember having any sort of actual connection with is the boy… but every now and again, you venture across a person that you just… *click* with.

Lemme backtrack a little bit though. When it comes to friendships and relationships… basically all human interaction… I have always believe that there are those people who are meant to come into our lives and somehow change it. Even the tiniest bit. There are also those people with whom we’re meant to come in contact with, essentially.

I’ve also always been a firm believer that not all soul mates are meant to be literal mates. That sometimes the friendships we make can be more fulfilling than the intimate/sexual relationships we may or may not be having.

That being said, last night I had the most amazing conversation with someone who was more an aquaintance than a friend up until last night. It was the kind of conversation where everything just clicked. We think similarly. We have similar types of plans for life. We have similar places we want to see in the world. Two totally different people… and both struggling with the same issues. It was definitely a soul mate moment.

At one point for a split second, I wondered why I couldn’t have met him at a different time in life under different circumstances. Suddenly all I could think of was the boy, and how much I loved him. As I drove home, I wanted nothing more than to know that the boy was there… knowing he wouldn’t be. Because it was that kind of night. The kind of conversation where you begin to appreciate those good things you do have in life. The good friends. The good family. The good memories and good times. And I wanted the boy there to tell him how much I loved and appreciated him.

Just like I’ll always love and appreciate the new friend.

Turn of events

Over the years, I know that I have become bitter and cynical. I don’t care so much about the plight of man, because all I can seem to focus on is the fact that 95% of the people I encounter are blatently stupid, or otherwise ignorant to their stupidity (only making it worse) making me want to gouge my own eyes out and shove sharp objects in my ears to relieve myself of the hassle of listening to seeing these stupid people in action. The other 5% is spread out amongst those I actually give a shit about (~1%) and those who make me want to go postal on the world (the remaining 4%). I am generally tired, and pissed off all the time. Or at least bitching about those things that piss me off, almost all of the time.

I’m not always a very fun or happy person to be around. Which means I’m not always a fun or happy person to be in a relationship with either. The failure of my past relationships have not always been the fault of the guy… sometimes (and I mean rarely) it was my own fault (kidding about the rarely part).

I remember my early relationships, and I remember being so very carefree and light-hearted. I remember feeling as though the world were at my fingertips, at my disposal, and that there was nothing I couldn’t accomplish. I also remember the devastation that the end of those early relationships caused, and somehow realizing that the world didn’t end when the relationship ended… and my life didn’t end now that some boy was out of it.

As the years went, and relationships came and went, I started to become less enthusiastic… and less devastated. Some relationships were a chore. Others were merely adventures. There were those rare ones that I hoped would turn into the eventual “white fence with 2.5 kids” situation. None of them ever did. One thing was consistent… they never lasted.

The longest relationship I had ever had was the one prior to the boy, or… the ex. It was an off-and-on thing, sure, but even if you put all of the “on” parts together, it was still the longest I had ever been with someone. The desire to have something work, especially when regarding a relationship, seems to get stronger as you get older. At least it has been that way for me. I don’t want to mess around with little boys who just want to get laid. I had my fair share of fun at one point or another, and I’m done. I’m not going to waste my life with that sort of thing.

I also realized a few things over the course of the last few years. You can’t make a person change, even if it’s for the betterment of them, and everyone else. You can’t forcibly bottle everything inside and think the explosion after the fact is okay. I want to have kids, and being with someone who doesn’t want more can very much be a waste of time and effort, as you will never see eye to eye on the topic. Wanting to get married is also something similar… I’m not going to waste my time or life with someone who doesn’t want to get married to me… ever. I also have learned, that I am a jaded and bitter old woman. While I’m attracted to the cute boy, I don’t want to keep the cute boy (who’s too stupid to create a full sentence without some coaxing) around for long… if ever, for that matter.

Despite the way things have been for me in the relationship department, I’ve been… happy with this one. The distance has probably helped to ensure that we’ll make it to the next weekend. We’re definitely given the opportunity to miss the other for the majority of the week. Absense can make the heart grow fonder, but in the case of me and the boy, the extreme absense also make us cranky, pissy, and slightly paranoid. He sometimes imagines that I’m in a “bad mood” even when I’m not. I sometimes imagine that he’s found other more important things, when that’s not necessarily the case.

Through all of it we seem to have a good thing going. He can be very patient with me, and just pointing out that I’m being slightly irrational can quickly bring me back down to earth and out of my “I hate the world and I want everyone to die” moods.

I didn’t think I could ever miss someone so completely that I feel empty when he’s not around. The sadness of having to sleep alone is almost unbearable. Whenever I get home, I hope that he’ll be there, so we can go find some other small adventure, motorcycle ride, drive anywhere… it doesn’t matter. I didn’t think I’d ever miss someone the way I miss him when he has to leave and go home… but I feel like I’m in high school, all over again.

Reactions

When someone is feeling down, or even depressed, I’m never entirely sure how to react. Sometimes what they want is just someone to listen to them bitch. Other times (and these seem to crop up equally as often as the bitch-fest sessions) they want advice as though I’m a therapist.

I also don’t often get to see the boy for more than a day and a half at a time. It just so happens that the distance, gas prices and the ever poorness of a student keeps us from being able to go through the “spend every waking minute together” phase. Most of the time this is okay, but sometimes… sometimes this is very trying. So when the boy offered to drive up to come see me after I had spend the previous day with him, I was very excited. That’s nearly 2 days together (with a work “break” in between)! This was truly a momentous event!

But when he arrived, he was irritated. Angry even. Roommate issues that have been perpetuating over time, and only now does he realize that a lot of those irritations that he’s let slide, are really NOT okay… in anyone’s book. With the introduction of a 3rd person into the household, he’s suddenly starting to realize that roommate #1 takes an awful lot of liberties with other people’s things. Mainly, the boy had his expensive motorcycle riding glasses taken. This did not set the tone for the rest of the night.

I was excited to have him over, but once he had his opportunity to vent, he started getting restless. He wanted to go out. He wanted to go DO something. I was a willing participant, but in this hellhole, there’s not a whole lot available to do in the middle of the week. Instead he got up, made himself some dinner, while I fiddle around with correcting the Elton John songs I downloaded that were mislabeled.

He didn’t sleep well, so when I left this morning for work, I left him there to try to rest some more.

I wish I knew what to do. Or what to say, in situations like that. I guess the only thing I can do is not get upset by the fact that he wasn’t the doting boyfriend he can be, and know that there will often be days just like this. If he can forgive me for my moods (which are often angry ones), I should be able to forget his (which are more depressed).