Boy, do I have some Tales to Tell...
There are things that even I cannot believe. Like when someone looks over a cooking school calendar and asks, "Are the classes free?" Especially when the price is boldly printed next to each class. Or when someone insists on having classes that appeal to a very narrow audience. "Why yes, I would like to offer some stewing and braising classes where we make goulash and stroganoff... most likely when the appropriate weather is upon us."
But what I still to this day cannot believe is how I can be great friends with someone and totally despise one of their great friends. How does this happen? And what does it say about me? And how the hell do I get roped into hanging out with this fool? Do I really like my great friend that much? Am I crazy?
My friend R. has been a great friend for a decade. We used to party like it was 1999. We even travelled together often to go to parties and had a great time. One of our trips was so legendary, we still talk about it. We have been close even to this day when we don't see as much of each other as we wish we could. When we do get together, it's always like old times. Even without the drugs.
R. has a friend Z. I have had my good times with Z. Mostly because I was so high I had no choice but to tune him out. He, in a nutshell, is a dickhead. You know that person who is just totally inappropriate always? The person who has no interest in anything but himself? The person who is obviously so insecure that he creates this transparent irritating persona with the hopes of making you ignore his very extensive number of shortcomings? That's Z.
Whenever I get R. to hang out, he brings Z. along. I hate to not hang out with R. because we do it very rarely. And with Z. there, it becomes a test of my patience. The one good thing is that R. loves to go dancing with me and in a club, I can tune Z. out. Until he throws some water or something at me. The last time he did that, I took him aside and told him that I would kick his face in the next time he did that. He laughed. I didn't. He hasn't done it in years. Although, once in a while, I see him do it to the person next to me. Which is normally R. So, it gets laughed off. By them.
I love R. I have a great time with R. I really have a great time when Z. isn't around. R. knows that I have my differences with Z. But he also knows that even with Z. around, I will still have fun with R. And I stay. Which is something that even I cannot believe. Later.
As far as I know, I have never ever mentioned the name of my place of employment on my blog. I do talk about it quite openly. So openly that I think most of you have figured out where I work. One of the reasons I don't talk about it is because I know that there are people in my regional offices that monitor blogs that refer to my company. And, yes, I am one of the blogs they monitor. I know for a fact that they do. Especially since I work there. I think it's funny that they do. And, frankly, I don't care that they do. Feel free to do so.
Yet, I don't mention their name because I think it is just fair. Whether I am talking about them favorably or not, I just would rather not name them. I have no reason to shine negative light upon them. Nor do I have reason to shine a positive one either. But this may all change.
We are about to open our newest store. As part of our commitment to supporting the community we do business in, we are throwing an Almost Open Party. The proceeds for this party benefits a local charity called Riverkeeper. Below is the link that will give you more information on the entire event. I'll leave it up to you readers to decide if you want to attend. But to sweeten the pot, know that I will be working that event. Most likely in a chef's coat. Serving food. And generally being congenial. I'm scared.
Here's the link: http://www.wholefoodsmarketboweryinvite.com/riverkeeper
Cut and paste as you need. Maybe I'll see you there. Maybe some of you anonymous people will stop by and say hey. Maybe. Later.
It's been a crazy two weeks at the new position. The person I report to is still a bit needy. BUT... I am learning to just deal with it. So, I go in, I work, I go to lunch, I work more, I leave after my eight hours of service. I've had the past two weekends off and this coming weekend will also be off for me. The two weeks following that will be hellish since it is opening week for our store. It'll be fine since it will only last for two weeks. Then, it's back to the regular grind.
One thing that I have to say is: how do most of you do it? How do you do this 9-to-5 grind that includes getting on crowded subways and fighting with crowd everywhere? In my second week, I came home grumpy everyday. Mike could barely do anything to comfort me. I don't know how people handle the madness of it all. I'll be glad when my off-hour shifts start again. I get to go to the gym when it isn't crowded. I get to actually not rush through my workout to get home so I can make dinner before 9:00pm hits. I can't wait.
It has been nice being able to spend evenings home with my husband. But next week, I return to my regularly offset retail hours. Thank goodness for retail hours. Later.
In a week and a half, I am going to see Christina Aguilera in concert. Oh, YEAH!!! My friend Janice, who always goes to concerts with me, got us tickets. We were excited about it. Then, I told her that the Pussycat Dolls were opening and we squeeled. We are so going early to make sure we don't miss a second of the candy-coated, sugar-dusted, syruppy-sweet confection. Should I not be this excited about this concert? Later.
Each morning, I look in the mirror and notice that my face is aging. My first reaction tends to be, "I need to moisturize more." But it really doesn't matter. The lines are beginning to form. I think about getting a higher-end moisturizer. But I have before and I still am beginning to look like my father. Some mornings, I open my eyes to my father staring back at me from the mirror. For a split second, I startle. Then, I realize it's just me. Older. The bags are more prominent under my eyes. I need more sleep. I shower. I moisturize. Nope. Still Merlin staring back.
I used to let my beard grow. Well, as much of a beard as a Filipino male can grow. I used to think it made me look more mature. I knew that when I shaved, people always thought I was much younger than I am. So, I held on to any growth. Somewhere, sometime, I started shaving to look younger. But my skin gives it away. It's not wrinkled but the signs are there. It's tired. It's shaved. It's moisturized. But it's tired. So, it gives away my age.
I'm getting older and it's beginning to show. My friend Lee said that age is just a number. It's just a number alright; a number of things that show more prominently on your face. Which you can't hide. No matter what moisturizer you use. I'm not exactly embracing it either. Why should I? I used to think I would be fine growing old. I am but I still have reservations about my face showing it. Moisturize. I'll give it another try. It probably won't matter. But what do I have to lose? Looking like my dad? Might not be so bad. Later.
I thought I was a pessimist but I think one of my new co-workers has taken their lion share of pessimism in this world. Angry, angry, angry. I actually had to say to her, "Just take what you have and make the most of it. They aren't going to give us more, so, work with it and let it be." As I said this, I realized that the issues she is having with work are so not about work. But then again, they never are. Boundaries, people, boundaries.
with my sister last night, we got to discussing how body image is tied to self-confidence which in turn affects how people work and live. And let me tell you, there are some major body image issues going on at my new job. She may not think so but I know so. Baby, I was a fat, heavy person a while back. I just did something about it and my entire outlook on life changed. So, Maria, my sister, mentioned that I need to be careful because I report to her. Yeah, as if I was ever scared of losing my job. There are more out there. Especially for people who like to work. Like me.
I will say that for the next three weeks, I get Saturday and Sunday off. I cannot even believe it. That is so bizarre to me. The only frustration is that my new work space is not fully constructed and we are supposed to be moving in soon. Plus, I don't have computer access always which is tough when a lot of my current work has to do with computer communication. Crazy but it's the nature of where I work. It's equally frustrating and irritating. But I make do.
I am exicted about it all. Until Negative Nelly walks in the room to bring everyone down. I just smile and move on. At least, the person who hired me (who NN reports to) is a friend and much more optimistic about life. Plus she has potty mouth which I love. Ok, I have to go get ready to leave for work. My commute is a bitch. Later.
I don't like to think of myself as being in the "dark ages" when it comes to technology but there are things that either take me a while to accept and things that I haven't really fully accepted. For example, for the longest time, I resisted having a cell phone. My reasoning was that they were still not perfect: calls dropped, fuzzy connections, poor service. I eventually got one but only because Mike put me on his family plan, so I only pay a small fee. And, I barely use my cell phone because, even with all the improvements in cell phone technology, there are still issues: calls dropped, fuzzy connections, poor service. Hmmmmm.
Recently, a friend of mine poked fun at me for a habit I refuse to give up: I write paper checks. I can't bring myself around to paying my bills online. I have been told that it's much more secure but I still have issues doing it all online. I do like that I can write a paper check and send it in the mail. Plus, when I last ordered checks, I ordered so many that I refuse to just throw them away. I refuse to create more paper waste than I already do.
My friend told me that the most difficult thing about online checking is the initial set up. She said that afterwards, it really is effortless. This, of course, sent my mind into overdrive:If I set up online checking, I will have to remember another set of login names and passwords. I would have to add a new set of login information to my currently immense collection of login information: work email, home email, junk email, dental benefits, medical benefits, online bank statements, 401k online, New York Times, blogging platform, and, of course, porn sites (Oh, hush. As if you didn't assume). As it is, I am already overwhelmed by the number of passwords I need to remember that I have to write them down. Which, of course, eliminates the whole security thing. My head is spinning.
In the end, I have decided not to sign up for online checking because, damn it, I refuse to memorize another set of login information. I'm just not that ready to move forward with that technology. It may well be that once I run out of paper checks, I will switch to online checking but that is in the distant future. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Later.