Clear As Mud

You know when you say/do something wrong, and immediately feel bad about it? Wish you could take it back? Feel like God is shaking his head and tsk-tsking right along with your grandma and Emily Post?

So you beat yourself up about it for a while (or years, as I tend to) and hope no one finds out, especially the person(s) you wronged. Please don't let them find out! And in some cases you just hope that if they do find out, they don't know where you live or what car you drive.

Then, you start thinking of who you can tell, because like the selfish person you are, you want to share your guilt, take some of the weight off your mind and gain a sense of sympathetic understanding. No, you're not a bad person! We all do things we regret from time to time. You didn't hurt anyone. It was impulse, that's all.

Of course you end up blurting it out to the first available person, and of course it's the one person you know will judge you almost as harshly as you judge yourself. And you think, well hell, why did I do that?

So you go on the defensive, back-peddling - to no avail of course.

I know, I know, I suck. I'm a horrible person. The devil made me do it. I should raise myself above such pettiness. I had a moment of weakness; excuse me for being human!

Then you sit in your bedroom, facing the wall, thinking about what you did as if you were a first grader on time out. And for the next week or so you will be Super Citizen, opening doors, helping old ladies cross the street, telling people they dropped a dollar when really you just pulled one out of your own pocket.

Oh yeah, you feel real bad. And you should, too.

Clearing The Mental Post Its

To anyone who has emailed me in the past few weeks, my apologies. I love email, I'm just forgetful. Gmail should be my primary address.
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The first round of spring reviews is coming to an end on Monday, and since I was proclaimed the Queen of Procrastination this year, I've got about 36 hours to get them done. Oh the pressure that comes with the crown.
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By now you've probably heard the news. Hell has frozen over. It's my fault, and I should apologize. (Or not? Maybe I'm some kind of Goddess down there now.)

I joined a gym. No, really, I did. I swore I never would, so of course, I did. I should be proud, but all I can think is I don't have time for this right now, and the addition of yet another bill to the monthly list. (I'm cranky because my shoulders are sore. I like the chest press machine, but the shoulder press and the lateral raise machines are just cruel.)
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Just throwing this out there:
Does anyone remember an 80's show called "Double Trouble"? Twin girls, 17 or 18 years old, live with their dad, have a guy friend who wears socks with sandals. (I remember this from an episode where one of the twins breaks into the science lab and the guy does some sort of headstand through the window and she talks about his socks and sandals.) I guess the real question is, why do I remember that much detail? There was also an episode where the two girls were competing for some dance thing, and the one twin stands on a bunch of chairs and phone books trying to peek in the window at her sisters routine and falls and sprains her ankle.

Maybe if I type all this out I can forget about it and make room for something more useful. I was about 5 at the time it aired, so I really hope I'm remembering episodes I saw in repeats a few years later. Aren't they related to Katey Sagal?
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Yeah yeah, go do my paperwork. I'm going, geesh.

Define Normal

It seems every family member over the age of 35 has a series of anecdotes to share. It's their way of imparting wisdom. My Aunt is very fond of teaching the lessons of 'be happy with who you are' and 'be careful what you wish for'.

"When I was younger, we visited with our Grandma a lot. I thought she was the greatest lady. She would tell stories, and play games with us, and was not afraid to say what was on her mind. I wished I could be just like her. I even prayed to God to let me grow up to be just like her."

Then she would point to her chest and say "And he did. 44DDDs. How she ever fit these things in those old-fashioned girdles is beyond me. When they say be careful what you wish for, they aren't joking."

Floridian pearls of wisdom. I think Aesop is safe.

When I was younger, through high school even, I wished to be normal. That's all I wanted, to be completely average. My family was so crazy, such a tv movie-of-the-week waiting to happen, I could think of no higher compliment than to be average. I often threatened my family with plans of turning their sordid lives into a bestseller, until I realized Jackie Collins, Sidney Sheldon and VC Andrews already had.

Of course, as with every wish, there are loopholes. You gotta be real specific. After all, what is normal?

I guess my lesson learned was simple.
And so easily transferred to a t-shirt.

Thanks Lindsay Lohan!

According to Entertainment Weekly's Shaw Report:

Freckles are IN
Scars are 5-MINUTES AGO
Beauty Marks are OUT

Finally! I am part of the "IN" crowd. And for something I always wished I could change about myself!

Irony, second only to Sarcasm.

Tick Tick Boom

The voices in my head (some writers call them characters) have gone radio-silent, so now I'm focusing on the beeping. This beeping should not be confused with the buzzing, which I've decided is my brain's homebrewed white noise.

I thought it was contagious. Even my coworkers can hear it, but they say it doesn't bother them, that they only hear it at work, usually near my desk. Or wherever else I'm standing.

Everybody got a raise this year, so I ruled out bomb. Plus it's an ongoing intrusion, not a one-time-only deal. Low-battery warning? What happens if I forget to replace them?

And then tonight I was reading Dooce. Leta's Monthly Newsletter. The lightbulb went on. That beeping noise? It's the alarm on my biological clock going off. Way more annoying than ticking, the beeping is loud, demanding, impatient.

I slapped the snooze button. I always set my alarm early; I love the illusion of extra time.

How Depressing

Western Union stopped sending telegrams, and I never got one. Although I often associate the word telegram with bad news, even the singing ones. I blame Clue for that of course. Still, it would have been fun to get one.

Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow. Since I live in Southern California that doesn't really concern me so much. That and the fact it's a groundhog predicting the weather, and personally he doesn't look too happy about it. I was somewhat surprised at the use of the yearly event as a publicity playground, for everything from the PA Lottery to the Super Bowl to the American Physiological Society. Any time there's a camera....

Columbian drug traffickers used puppies to smuggle heroin. There's nothing to say about that really, other than the punishment should fit the crime.

Time to watch House. At least that provides cynicism in a charismatic package.

Ooh - Pretty New Pattern

I've developed a new ritual. I must listen to a certain song in my car before going in to work. My subconscious has gotten wussy on me; work is not that bad....

Pink Martini
Hang on Little Tomato

The sun has left and forgotten me
It’s dark, I cannot see
Why does this rain pour down
I’m gonna drown
In a sea
Of deep confusion

Somebody told me, I don’t know who
Whenever you are sad and blue
And you’re feelin’ all alone and left behind
Just take a look inside and you will find

You gotta hold on, hold on through the night
Hang on, things will be all right
Even when it’s dark
And not a bit of sparkling
Sing-song sunshine from above
Spreading rays of sunny love

Just hang on, hang on to the vine
Stay on, soon you’ll be divine
If you start to cry, look up to the sky
Something’s coming up ahead
To turn your tears to dew instead

And so I hold on to this advice
When change is hard and not so nice
You listen to your heart the whole night through
Your sunny someday will come one day soon to you
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Pink Martini is a fun band. I especially enjoy Let's Never Stop Falling in Love , Lilly , and Anna (El Negro Zumbon) , as well as Hang on Little Tomato .