This is a long one...
(that's what she said)
On the heels of my last post, I thought I'd write about something regarding a good friendship, strong people and the healing art of forgiveness. It will also be about a particularly difficult time in my life and how it changed me. This will be a two part post.
I have an extremely good friend that I love very much. She and I met three years ago at work (a job we both left due to it being extremely retarded).
When I first met her, I was sitting in our boss's office getting the spiel on my new job. She walked in and looked me up and down and said, "Oh. Hi." And then mentally dismissed me.
And that was it. I was scared of her. And this is the part where she will get ticked when she reads it. My friend is short; in stature, not in personality. But sweet mercy I was scared of her.
As the days and weeks passed by and she trained me, we found out how much we had in common. We laughed non-stop and actually got in trouble many times for being too loud (neither of us can control the volume of our voice).
A few weeks later I finally worked up the courage to ask her about something that I'd been wondering about. She walked with a limp and always wore tennis shoes. I knew something had happened but I wasn't sure how to broach the topic. It wasn't just curiosity to know what was going on physically. It was a curiosity to know where she drew her strength from. She was and is without a doubt the person in my life with the fastest temper, quickest laugh and strongest opinions. Her tenacity is unmatched.
We got to talking and she explained to me that she had been diagnosed with an extremely rare form of cancer in previous years and had battled it, and won. The story is much longer than that, but the cancer isn't the point of this post. It's what she did with her life after.
She was left to face significant challenges. Significant.
I would have crawled into a bathtub and drowned in a sea of spahetti o's.
But her?
She went back to work. She worked out. She re-doubled her efforts at being a good friend and family member. She got angry. She laughed. She re-learned how to drive and walk. She learned to adjust to having specific handicaps. She was open and honest about what happened to her. In short, she made freakin' lemonade from lemons.
Damnit.
There go all of my excuses to hold onto the past and bitch about the things that have gone wrong in my life.
She thinks she hasn't let go of it. I think she never will. How can she? Why should she? The best thing I can say to you, my lovely friend is this:
Hold on to the survival. You made it. You are beautiful. You are strong. You inspire people more than you even realize. You are smarter, more determined and funnier than the majority of the general population. And you kicked cancer's ass. I'm proud of you every day.
I'm writing about this today for a couple of reasons:
1. In response to my friend's blog
2. Thinking about the past a lot lately (the beginning of May tends to make me reflect)
3. Thinking about the future
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Friendship...
How do I say this... politely.........
some people suck at being friends.
Was that polite?
Oh who cares. Lately, a certain situation has come up, and without saying too much, I'll say this:
Watch who is around you. Think about who you are listening to. Since you've known them, have they changed you or your life significantly for the worse? You already know the answer to this.
It frustrates me that miscommunication and bad judgement come between good friends. Life is just too short to waste it.
Be a good person. Be kind. Always think about how you and your actions affect others. And forgive. Just forgive. Nobody is perfect.
**steps off soapbox**
some people suck at being friends.
Was that polite?
Oh who cares. Lately, a certain situation has come up, and without saying too much, I'll say this:
Watch who is around you. Think about who you are listening to. Since you've known them, have they changed you or your life significantly for the worse? You already know the answer to this.
It frustrates me that miscommunication and bad judgement come between good friends. Life is just too short to waste it.
Be a good person. Be kind. Always think about how you and your actions affect others. And forgive. Just forgive. Nobody is perfect.
**steps off soapbox**
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
From the mouths of babes
I hired my little brother and his adorable friend to do yard work for me yesterday:
Me: "How much are you charging?"
J: "We're not sure. You want the leaves raked, the bushes trimmed and the grass cut. That's a lot of work."
K: "BUT WE CAN HANDLE IT!"
Me: "Ok, well you guys get started and let me know when you decide."
**They work their little tails off for 3 hours and I hear a knock on my door. They are covered in mud, grass, and leaves and the yard looks great**
Me: "Wow, you guys did such a good job! How much do I owe you?"
J: "Not sure. We need to have a conference."
K: " Yeah, we don't want to say to high."
J: "But we also don't want to say too low!!"
*whispering*
J: "I'm going to say $20"
K: "Yeah!"
Me: "Ok, that sounds fair. Plus I have some more work for you to do this weekend"
*I hand them each their $10*
J:" You know, this was really fun. I'd probably do it for free!"
Me: "Then give me the money back!"
They run away, money clutched in their little fists, laughing like maniacs.
Me: "How much are you charging?"
J: "We're not sure. You want the leaves raked, the bushes trimmed and the grass cut. That's a lot of work."
K: "BUT WE CAN HANDLE IT!"
Me: "Ok, well you guys get started and let me know when you decide."
**They work their little tails off for 3 hours and I hear a knock on my door. They are covered in mud, grass, and leaves and the yard looks great**
Me: "Wow, you guys did such a good job! How much do I owe you?"
J: "Not sure. We need to have a conference."
K: " Yeah, we don't want to say to high."
J: "But we also don't want to say too low!!"
*whispering*
J: "I'm going to say $20"
K: "Yeah!"
Me: "Ok, that sounds fair. Plus I have some more work for you to do this weekend"
*I hand them each their $10*
J:" You know, this was really fun. I'd probably do it for free!"
Me: "Then give me the money back!"
They run away, money clutched in their little fists, laughing like maniacs.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
C-A-P-S LET'S GO CAPS!
We went to the game last night. And it was freaking awesome.
Standing there with my guy, and two of our good friends surrounded by a sea of screaming fans, it was so easy to forget the stress that brought us there.
We got a late start due to a rather inconvenient event that I will discuss later. So there we were at 6:15 driving into the city for a 7:00 game. On 7th street our friend dropped us off so we could get the tickets from the broker and they could park.
Our seats were club level and gave us the perfect view of the ice. It was a well played game on both sides. Caps scored first and the Flyers were close behind. It was 1-1, and then 2-2.
Suddenly the Flyers pulled ahead 4-2. We thought it was over. But in the 3rd period, the Russian (Alex Ovechkin) scored an amazing last minute goal to put the Caps ahead 5-4.
As we stood there, counting down the last 10 seconds of the game I looked at the joy on the faces of everyone around me. Rally towels were waving in the air making the arena seem like a living creature. The sound was deafening.The floor shook with the weight of stomping feet and everyone held their collective breath as the Flyers broke away with the puck. But it wasn't meant to be. The final horn sounded and the arena erupted. Beers were spilled, hot dogs forgotten, and strangers high-fived and hugged each other.
Everything swirled around me, and in that moment I realized it's not the money we spend that matters. It's the experiences in life, the memories we make, the people we're with, and that feeling... you know the one... where everything is perfect and you want to capture it in a bottle and save it forever....
Standing there with my guy, and two of our good friends surrounded by a sea of screaming fans, it was so easy to forget the stress that brought us there.
We got a late start due to a rather inconvenient event that I will discuss later. So there we were at 6:15 driving into the city for a 7:00 game. On 7th street our friend dropped us off so we could get the tickets from the broker and they could park.
Our seats were club level and gave us the perfect view of the ice. It was a well played game on both sides. Caps scored first and the Flyers were close behind. It was 1-1, and then 2-2.
Suddenly the Flyers pulled ahead 4-2. We thought it was over. But in the 3rd period, the Russian (Alex Ovechkin) scored an amazing last minute goal to put the Caps ahead 5-4.
As we stood there, counting down the last 10 seconds of the game I looked at the joy on the faces of everyone around me. Rally towels were waving in the air making the arena seem like a living creature. The sound was deafening.The floor shook with the weight of stomping feet and everyone held their collective breath as the Flyers broke away with the puck. But it wasn't meant to be. The final horn sounded and the arena erupted. Beers were spilled, hot dogs forgotten, and strangers high-fived and hugged each other.
Everything swirled around me, and in that moment I realized it's not the money we spend that matters. It's the experiences in life, the memories we make, the people we're with, and that feeling... you know the one... where everything is perfect and you want to capture it in a bottle and save it forever....
Friday, April 11, 2008
My $1,100 mistake
Yesterday while perusing tickets on StubHub.com, the unthinkable happened.
I was checking to see where the seats I was interested in were located and looking at processing, last minute and other fees when the screen flickered and suddenly....
ORDER PROCESSED. THANK YOU!
Pardon? I'm sorry. Did you say you processed my order? But I didn't enter my credit card information. How is this possible? Oh you just sent me a confirmation email. Oh and the total that you just deducted from my bank account is $1,108.00. Thats over a thousand dollars, right? Hmm... HOLY A** SH** F**K.
Oh, it must be a misunderstanding. I'll just call your customer service department and explain how your website malfunctioned and accidentally charged me for tickets I didn't want.
Two hours later.
After exhausting every employee and supervisor I hung up the phone, defeated. All sales are final.
I sat on the curb outside of my office. It was such a nice day, almost hot out. I picked a four leaf clover and watched people go by.
And then, I just let it go.
We posted the tickets on Ebay and Craigslist. Here's to hoping they sell. And if not, I'll just take my friends advice:
Get all dressed up and act like the VIP's we'll be portraying. Life goes on.
I was checking to see where the seats I was interested in were located and looking at processing, last minute and other fees when the screen flickered and suddenly....
ORDER PROCESSED. THANK YOU!
Pardon? I'm sorry. Did you say you processed my order? But I didn't enter my credit card information. How is this possible? Oh you just sent me a confirmation email. Oh and the total that you just deducted from my bank account is $1,108.00. Thats over a thousand dollars, right? Hmm... HOLY A** SH** F**K.
Oh, it must be a misunderstanding. I'll just call your customer service department and explain how your website malfunctioned and accidentally charged me for tickets I didn't want.
Two hours later.
After exhausting every employee and supervisor I hung up the phone, defeated. All sales are final.
I sat on the curb outside of my office. It was such a nice day, almost hot out. I picked a four leaf clover and watched people go by.
And then, I just let it go.
We posted the tickets on Ebay and Craigslist. Here's to hoping they sell. And if not, I'll just take my friends advice:
Get all dressed up and act like the VIP's we'll be portraying. Life goes on.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
A Comedy of Errors
My alarm was set to go off at 5:20am.
For the first time in probably 5 years, I hit snooze.
I woke up at 6:42am. The time I usually leave my house.
I showered and got shampoo in my eyes.
I dropped the conditioner bottle on my foot.
I got the zipper on my pants stuck so I couldn't zip them up OR take them off.
I had to kill a bug.
I forgot to make coffee.
I got stuck behind two school buses and one old guy in a Volvo.
Traffic was a snarled mess on the beltway.
I got to work fifteen minutes late.
I slipped on the tile in our bathroom and when trying to catch myself, I cut my hand on the wall (remember...they're STILL REMODELING)
And it's only 9:30.
For the first time in probably 5 years, I hit snooze.
I woke up at 6:42am. The time I usually leave my house.
I showered and got shampoo in my eyes.
I dropped the conditioner bottle on my foot.
I got the zipper on my pants stuck so I couldn't zip them up OR take them off.
I had to kill a bug.
I forgot to make coffee.
I got stuck behind two school buses and one old guy in a Volvo.
Traffic was a snarled mess on the beltway.
I got to work fifteen minutes late.
I slipped on the tile in our bathroom and when trying to catch myself, I cut my hand on the wall (remember...they're STILL REMODELING)
And it's only 9:30.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Tent Village
I may have touched on this before, I don't really remember, but:
I work in the ghetto.
I know, it sounds awful and I'm probably not authorized to use that word in my extremely caucasian writing. But it's true.
Behind our lot, there is what the police and locals refer to as a "Tent Village". Those of you familiar with DC have probably seen them along the roads leading into and out of the District.
They are tents, grouped together where the homeless live.
At the one behind my office, they walk out from the woods, head up the hill by my office, and make a bee line to the liquor store (which by the way, only sells wine in a box, 40's, and black and mild's).
So today, my co-worker is outside and up comes one of the fancier homeless fellas. All I can see through the window is my co-worker pointing at the guy and then the guy coming towards our office door. He's dressed in a navy blue polo with white stripes, khaki cargo pants, a hat and uses a cane. Overall, he looks well put together and I have a hard time believeing he is homeless.
Until he walks in:
Him: "Hello young ladies" (there are three women and three men in my office during this time)
Me: "Hi Sir. How can we help you?"
Him: "I'm a businessman, I know computers and shit"
Me: "Oook....."
Him: "I wanna buy a van for my Step daddy"
Me: "Ok, well I'm not a salesperson, please talk to--------" (I am a salesperson, but today I decided to pass this particular nut on to someone else"
He then proceeds to pull up his sleeve and show us a tattoo of what looks like a dishwasher. We never got a clear answer about what it was or why he was showing us.
Him: "I used to sell lease cars for Chevy Honda Buick back in 1973, 1984."
(I didn't even have to make that up. That was the exact sentence he uttered)
Me: "Great. I have to take this call now."
At this point he was much too close to me and his smell was similar to that of rotting cabbage in a dung heap. The phone didn't ring, but I picked it up anyway and pretended. He's crazy. He didn't know better.
Co-Worker: "Listen dude. We can't have you here. You're not right. You're f**king with my money dude"
Him: "Alright sir. Well don't go getting your pistol or nothing. By the way...there's tar on that car out there. Hot tar."
Co-Worker: "It's probably from our tar pits out back. Don't fall in"
I work in the ghetto.
I know, it sounds awful and I'm probably not authorized to use that word in my extremely caucasian writing. But it's true.
Behind our lot, there is what the police and locals refer to as a "Tent Village". Those of you familiar with DC have probably seen them along the roads leading into and out of the District.
They are tents, grouped together where the homeless live.
At the one behind my office, they walk out from the woods, head up the hill by my office, and make a bee line to the liquor store (which by the way, only sells wine in a box, 40's, and black and mild's).
So today, my co-worker is outside and up comes one of the fancier homeless fellas. All I can see through the window is my co-worker pointing at the guy and then the guy coming towards our office door. He's dressed in a navy blue polo with white stripes, khaki cargo pants, a hat and uses a cane. Overall, he looks well put together and I have a hard time believeing he is homeless.
Until he walks in:
Him: "Hello young ladies" (there are three women and three men in my office during this time)
Me: "Hi Sir. How can we help you?"
Him: "I'm a businessman, I know computers and shit"
Me: "Oook....."
Him: "I wanna buy a van for my Step daddy"
Me: "Ok, well I'm not a salesperson, please talk to--------" (I am a salesperson, but today I decided to pass this particular nut on to someone else"
He then proceeds to pull up his sleeve and show us a tattoo of what looks like a dishwasher. We never got a clear answer about what it was or why he was showing us.
Him: "I used to sell lease cars for Chevy Honda Buick back in 1973, 1984."
(I didn't even have to make that up. That was the exact sentence he uttered)
Me: "Great. I have to take this call now."
At this point he was much too close to me and his smell was similar to that of rotting cabbage in a dung heap. The phone didn't ring, but I picked it up anyway and pretended. He's crazy. He didn't know better.
Co-Worker: "Listen dude. We can't have you here. You're not right. You're f**king with my money dude"
Him: "Alright sir. Well don't go getting your pistol or nothing. By the way...there's tar on that car out there. Hot tar."
Co-Worker: "It's probably from our tar pits out back. Don't fall in"
Monday, April 7, 2008
New Favorites
Favorite new workout: Brenda DyGraf's AirClimber (that I bought from HSN because evidently one of my personalities is a 63 year old woman in a MuMu with curlers in my hair. I hope those adorable little cat statues are next!)
Favorite new CD: Sarah Bareilles "Little Voice". She was discovered on YouTube and her first single "Love Song" has shot to the top of the charts. Her CD has been in my cd player non-stop for five days. I love EVERY song on the album and haven't been able to say that about a CD in a very long time.
Favorite new food: Safeway Organic 7- Grain Honey Flake Cereal. I've really gotten into Organic eating in the past year or so. Most of the things I buy now are certified organic (or to the best of my knowledge aren't enhanced with chemicals and etc) Don't get me wrong, I'm no vegan and I'm still eating some processed crap. But I've been trying to be much more aware of what I'm putting into my body and I have really noticed a difference in my energy level and the regulation of my moods. Crazy, but true.
Favorite new show: Real Housewives of NYC & Samantha Who. The first one is just pure indulgence. One of the "Housewives" threw an absolute hissy fit when she sat in the 2nd row at Fashion week. Seriously? And the second one is so funny. I watched it one night by accident and when I found myself chuckling (yes, I chuckle) I was surprised! Christina Applegate is adorable and I highly recommend it!
Favorite new book: "Eat, Pray, Love." by Elizabeth Gilbert. It's the true story of her search for herself in the wake of a difficult divorce. She traveled across the world and tells her story in such a funny, real and powerful way that I read and re-read the book time and again. Go pick it up!
Favorite new word: Mercy! (can be used in many different situations and sounds so much nicer than F**K!)
Favorite new CD: Sarah Bareilles "Little Voice". She was discovered on YouTube and her first single "Love Song" has shot to the top of the charts. Her CD has been in my cd player non-stop for five days. I love EVERY song on the album and haven't been able to say that about a CD in a very long time.
Favorite new food: Safeway Organic 7- Grain Honey Flake Cereal. I've really gotten into Organic eating in the past year or so. Most of the things I buy now are certified organic (or to the best of my knowledge aren't enhanced with chemicals and etc) Don't get me wrong, I'm no vegan and I'm still eating some processed crap. But I've been trying to be much more aware of what I'm putting into my body and I have really noticed a difference in my energy level and the regulation of my moods. Crazy, but true.
Favorite new show: Real Housewives of NYC & Samantha Who. The first one is just pure indulgence. One of the "Housewives" threw an absolute hissy fit when she sat in the 2nd row at Fashion week. Seriously? And the second one is so funny. I watched it one night by accident and when I found myself chuckling (yes, I chuckle) I was surprised! Christina Applegate is adorable and I highly recommend it!
Favorite new book: "Eat, Pray, Love." by Elizabeth Gilbert. It's the true story of her search for herself in the wake of a difficult divorce. She traveled across the world and tells her story in such a funny, real and powerful way that I read and re-read the book time and again. Go pick it up!
Favorite new word: Mercy! (can be used in many different situations and sounds so much nicer than F**K!)
Friday, April 4, 2008
I get to work around 8am most mornings, it's quiet then and I can get things organized so I'm ready for the busy day ahead.
A few weeks ago I arrived at work around 7:45am. As I was turning on my computer and making the first pot of coffee, the construction workers began to stream in to start the remodeling on our office.
I sat down at my desk and was opening an e-mail when I heard someone coming down the stairs from our upstairs branch. I looked up.
The man had long, dirty hair and wild eyes. He was swerving, winding from left to right- wall to wall. I watched him approach me and the workers came to a halt. You could have heard a pin drop.
The man came right up to my desk, never making eye contact and asked me where one of my co-workers was.
"Where's -------?"
"He's not in yet. We don't open until 9. Can I help you with something?"
"I need to trade in my Lincoln and buy a new car." (he said, dipping slightly to the right, now looking at the far wall and muttering to himself)
"Well, if you come back at 9am ------- will be here and he can help you with that."
"So you're kicking me out now? I guess you a racist. I just need a car and ------- said he would get me one. I'm just going to sit here and wait. It's a free country."
He sits down at the desk next to mine and fixes his eyes on me for the first time. I see the largest of the construction workers start towards him. The drug man tilts his head and says
"You know, I think you'd look better with more makeup on."
I stare dumbly at him as he bats imaginary bugs in the air. He continues to ramble on, making no sense most of the time but occasionally putting words together, such as:
"It's funny how glass is shiny but you can still see yourself in it"
and
"They told me not to do that"
and finally
"Do you want me to put on some Marvin Gaye or maybe a white girl don't know nothin' about that!?"
At this point he stands up and comes toward me quickly. The large (handsome) construction worker intercedes and I tell the drug man he has to leave. He curses at me calling me something along the lines of a Fu**ing B***h S**t A**.
The construction workers remove him from the building and lock the door behind him. He stands outside the window by my desk and screams obsecenities at me until they go out and tell him in no uncertain terms that he must leave the premises.
A few days later I was getting ready for work and found myself really staring at myself in the mirror. I applied extra eye liner, mascara and then stopped...
Was I actually taking makeup advice from a crack head????
A few weeks ago I arrived at work around 7:45am. As I was turning on my computer and making the first pot of coffee, the construction workers began to stream in to start the remodeling on our office.
I sat down at my desk and was opening an e-mail when I heard someone coming down the stairs from our upstairs branch. I looked up.
The man had long, dirty hair and wild eyes. He was swerving, winding from left to right- wall to wall. I watched him approach me and the workers came to a halt. You could have heard a pin drop.
The man came right up to my desk, never making eye contact and asked me where one of my co-workers was.
"Where's -------?"
"He's not in yet. We don't open until 9. Can I help you with something?"
"I need to trade in my Lincoln and buy a new car." (he said, dipping slightly to the right, now looking at the far wall and muttering to himself)
"Well, if you come back at 9am ------- will be here and he can help you with that."
"So you're kicking me out now? I guess you a racist. I just need a car and ------- said he would get me one. I'm just going to sit here and wait. It's a free country."
He sits down at the desk next to mine and fixes his eyes on me for the first time. I see the largest of the construction workers start towards him. The drug man tilts his head and says
"You know, I think you'd look better with more makeup on."
I stare dumbly at him as he bats imaginary bugs in the air. He continues to ramble on, making no sense most of the time but occasionally putting words together, such as:
"It's funny how glass is shiny but you can still see yourself in it"
and
"They told me not to do that"
and finally
"Do you want me to put on some Marvin Gaye or maybe a white girl don't know nothin' about that!?"
At this point he stands up and comes toward me quickly. The large (handsome) construction worker intercedes and I tell the drug man he has to leave. He curses at me calling me something along the lines of a Fu**ing B***h S**t A**.
The construction workers remove him from the building and lock the door behind him. He stands outside the window by my desk and screams obsecenities at me until they go out and tell him in no uncertain terms that he must leave the premises.
A few days later I was getting ready for work and found myself really staring at myself in the mirror. I applied extra eye liner, mascara and then stopped...
Was I actually taking makeup advice from a crack head????
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