I sometimes wonder why it is people say the things they say. I have a habit of being obnoxiously truthful though I like to think in the last 10 years I've gotten a tad better with tact. It's not that much shocks me. Even if it does, I'm almost pleasantly suprised that someone else is as forthright as myself.
No, it's more about how people use words to manipulate situations. That is drastically different from being a tad too honest. Truly honest people, even the obnoxious ones, aren't really out to manipulate - that requires too much thought. The Wedding Nazi has this down to a science. I know bits and pieces about my shower. Really, I didn't want to know anything, but whatever. That's another story. What I learned today is that the party is going to be catered and that it's costing a fortune. Wedding Nazi didn't go into major detail, but the tone of her voice and hearing all about the cost was enough to make me uncomfortable. Why? Why do that? It's supposed to be a happy time for me. Now I'll go into it fully aware of how much money it cost to host this party (as if I couldn't have figured it out) and basically how that's horribly inconvenient and Wedding Nazi would rather not do it all (trust me, Wedding Nazi is not really an entertainer and only does so on occasion because she has to or won't let someone else do it).
Then there was the discussion of the receiving line. Wedding Nazi could have been on Law & Order with the dramatic performance she was giving. I really don't like receiving lines - they take too damn long, half the time you don't know the people, and having stood in them way too often, I sympathize with others' discomfort and wishful thoughts to speed the procedure along. Perhaps I'd consider the line if it's just me and Vince shaking hands. NOT the entire party and parents. It's stupid. Well the Wedding Nazi proceded to lecture me about how my grandmothers really just want to wish me congratulations and why can't I just let them and the other guests wish me congratulations? That's all they want to do...and even at the reception with us going around to tables, well, there won't be enough time and the receiving line allows everyone to say something nice and obviously I'm so selfish that I want to rush things along and don't care about what my guests think or want to share even though it's purely unselfish on their parts to wish me congratulations.
Oh Christ. I mean, is this for real? Even Second In Command was like, What the F? I'm sure hoping Second In Command asserts some leadership in the coming weeks...maybe overthrowing Wedding Nazi.
Words manipulating situations to suite the Wedding Nazi and the Axis of Evil.
Monday, February 27, 2006
Monday, February 06, 2006
On Your Own
A Verve song, though appropriate for my Philosopher King musings this evening. You come in on your own and you leave on your own, forget the lovers you loved and the friends you have known.
So why then does it matter? Why make it matter? Everyday I experience something that validates that statement. A trust is broken, a friend leaves, I move, whatever. I'm left where I started - by myself, on my own. Maybe not entirely. Physically, yes, but emotionally and mentally, didn't that person influence me? Maybe I let them, maybe I didn't even know the profound impact of that encounter. But it happened. And I'm left mulling it over in solitude, perhaps in a blog like this.
Maybe Shakespeare's words from As You Like It are accurate - All the world's a stage and the men and woman merely players. They have their exits and their entrances and one man in his lifetime plays many parts. I wonder why a situation played out the way it did...it seemes unfavorable to walk out, leave, lose a trust and connection. But I suppose to move forward, to potentially resurface and come back, to play another part, something had to break.
I stoood on the edge once and wondered how I'd move on without a friend, someone who provided comic relief as well as a vast knowledge of arts. It's so easy to always look to that one outlet. But in knowing this friend, didn't I take the positive elements of the relationship and apply them to myself? I just had to find them. Suddenly I was more than I thought I could be. Thanks dude.
I move on. I can marry the need for connections with the need to trust their positive effects on me. Those connections will come from far and wide in the forms of many players, many may be repeats. But they will come and go. I need to be OK with the comings and goings. With finding that great whatever for that moment, relishing it, and knowing in a NY minute it could be over. But for that minute, I was inspired and wrapped up in a good thing. Carry that good onward. It isn't an end really...
So why then does it matter? Why make it matter? Everyday I experience something that validates that statement. A trust is broken, a friend leaves, I move, whatever. I'm left where I started - by myself, on my own. Maybe not entirely. Physically, yes, but emotionally and mentally, didn't that person influence me? Maybe I let them, maybe I didn't even know the profound impact of that encounter. But it happened. And I'm left mulling it over in solitude, perhaps in a blog like this.
Maybe Shakespeare's words from As You Like It are accurate - All the world's a stage and the men and woman merely players. They have their exits and their entrances and one man in his lifetime plays many parts. I wonder why a situation played out the way it did...it seemes unfavorable to walk out, leave, lose a trust and connection. But I suppose to move forward, to potentially resurface and come back, to play another part, something had to break.
I stoood on the edge once and wondered how I'd move on without a friend, someone who provided comic relief as well as a vast knowledge of arts. It's so easy to always look to that one outlet. But in knowing this friend, didn't I take the positive elements of the relationship and apply them to myself? I just had to find them. Suddenly I was more than I thought I could be. Thanks dude.
I move on. I can marry the need for connections with the need to trust their positive effects on me. Those connections will come from far and wide in the forms of many players, many may be repeats. But they will come and go. I need to be OK with the comings and goings. With finding that great whatever for that moment, relishing it, and knowing in a NY minute it could be over. But for that minute, I was inspired and wrapped up in a good thing. Carry that good onward. It isn't an end really...
Friday, February 03, 2006
History Repeats
There must be a recurring theme this week: Personal History. Becca wrote about it in her blog and I've been feeling it and experiencing it on many levels this entire week. From songs that are a trip down memory lane to big ol' signs in my face - I'm remembering quite a bit about my past.
Over the last few days, I've been treated to some great celtic and jazz music on the radio reminding me of all the performances I was so lucky to hear and see while working at Baylin. It fanned the flame of missing that job.
I also heard The Verve's On Your Own yesterday (What ever happened to Rob's tape??), New Order's Temptation (Trainspotting anyone?), Oasis' Wonderwall (really, is this 1995 all over again?) and just now Pete Yorn's Strange Condition. It's amazing how songs become this soundtrack to one's life.
When I parked my car this morning I parallel parked behind this Volvo whose plates screamed Smithtown NY. My old hometown.
No matter where I go, how far I go, even how much I try to forget a person, place or thing, history is a boomerang, coming back, reminding me not just of these moments, but of myself. Who was I then? How have I changed? How have I stayed the same? And besides those things I truly have forgotten or buried, I also hear and see what I want to - looking for resolutions where I may not have had them previously.
Sometimes I wonder if history rears its head to force me to move forward, to forgive, forget the BS. To look inside myself for that trust I so desperately need. I wonder though - Am I enough for myself?
Over the last few days, I've been treated to some great celtic and jazz music on the radio reminding me of all the performances I was so lucky to hear and see while working at Baylin. It fanned the flame of missing that job.
I also heard The Verve's On Your Own yesterday (What ever happened to Rob's tape??), New Order's Temptation (Trainspotting anyone?), Oasis' Wonderwall (really, is this 1995 all over again?) and just now Pete Yorn's Strange Condition. It's amazing how songs become this soundtrack to one's life.
When I parked my car this morning I parallel parked behind this Volvo whose plates screamed Smithtown NY. My old hometown.
No matter where I go, how far I go, even how much I try to forget a person, place or thing, history is a boomerang, coming back, reminding me not just of these moments, but of myself. Who was I then? How have I changed? How have I stayed the same? And besides those things I truly have forgotten or buried, I also hear and see what I want to - looking for resolutions where I may not have had them previously.
Sometimes I wonder if history rears its head to force me to move forward, to forgive, forget the BS. To look inside myself for that trust I so desperately need. I wonder though - Am I enough for myself?
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Where is Home?
It's not like me to write more than once in a 24 hour period. It's usually days, weeks, before I get around to posting something new. But this whole concept of going home has been nagging at me. To the point where I recalled my friend's wedding this past summer - Melissa and Joe's song was "Feels Like Home To Me" from How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. Cheesy romantic comedy, but cute tune and perfect for them. I'd been tossing things around in my head but decided I needed to download the song.
You'd think I have no roots or something...it's quite the opposite. Yes, we moved twice when I was younger, but this southeastern part of PA has been home for 20 years now. I have a big family that's local, emotional support. I lived at school for a year but then commuted because of costs. I can visit my high school or college anytime and I do. I have a sense of personal history and of being able to go home to wherever I want to call home that day.
I toyed with the idea of busting out a few years after college, escaping to NYC or someplace, but then I realized I really was having a small breakdown of sorts and anywhere was better than here and that's not a solid enough reason to just pack my bags and find some other job and move to some other state. As if everything would be OK somewhere else. The demons wouldn't find me.
Those feelings did creep in on the heels of a second layoff, right around when I was 24 and trying to redefine myself as a working professional. When the world fell flat at my feet several times and I was struggling to find my new niche, demons manifest from hidden places and made me serious doubt myself. But I didn't do anything too crazy. I stayed somewhat grounded, knew this too would pass...if the feelings lingered for very long, I would revisit them. And they did pass, having been symptoms of something else. Physically, I stayed put. Emotionally, perhaps, the last several years have me roaming, searching, wondering.
I used to daydream of days of Deck the Walls gone by...missing the craziness of working with my then friend Rob, of being respected, being an equal. And yet, I knew why I left - I needed to grow and experience new things at 22. But when the world fell flat, I did miss that home, those connections.
When I started at Skylight, I didn't trust anyone. Everyone was a corporate traitor. Gradually I trusted some co-workers. Trust. It's a bad bad thing. It slowly sucks me in and the next thing I know, I'm completely wrapped up in a person, place or thing. Attached. So when I was laid off there, I missed it, wanted to go back to where I'd finally started to feel safe and connected.
It would be a good year and some time later before I felt safe at a place again. This time it would be at Baylin. As you can read from my last entry, it started the day I interviewed - Doylestown gave me that feeling. As you can also read, it went awry. It wasn't like that in the beginning...or even the middle. It was the bitter end. The last 4-6 months.
In all of these "places" there was a moment when I knew it was over, when it no longer felt like home, when I either chose to look for another job or had to. But going back to my earlier point of emotions...the gut wrenching cries aren't ever tied to the physical places...they are tied to the people, the connections, the symbolism of a place. To the trust I had in someone that broke.
The broken trust busts up the home and the lack of resolution always leaves me searching.
You'd think I have no roots or something...it's quite the opposite. Yes, we moved twice when I was younger, but this southeastern part of PA has been home for 20 years now. I have a big family that's local, emotional support. I lived at school for a year but then commuted because of costs. I can visit my high school or college anytime and I do. I have a sense of personal history and of being able to go home to wherever I want to call home that day.
I toyed with the idea of busting out a few years after college, escaping to NYC or someplace, but then I realized I really was having a small breakdown of sorts and anywhere was better than here and that's not a solid enough reason to just pack my bags and find some other job and move to some other state. As if everything would be OK somewhere else. The demons wouldn't find me.
Those feelings did creep in on the heels of a second layoff, right around when I was 24 and trying to redefine myself as a working professional. When the world fell flat at my feet several times and I was struggling to find my new niche, demons manifest from hidden places and made me serious doubt myself. But I didn't do anything too crazy. I stayed somewhat grounded, knew this too would pass...if the feelings lingered for very long, I would revisit them. And they did pass, having been symptoms of something else. Physically, I stayed put. Emotionally, perhaps, the last several years have me roaming, searching, wondering.
I used to daydream of days of Deck the Walls gone by...missing the craziness of working with my then friend Rob, of being respected, being an equal. And yet, I knew why I left - I needed to grow and experience new things at 22. But when the world fell flat, I did miss that home, those connections.
When I started at Skylight, I didn't trust anyone. Everyone was a corporate traitor. Gradually I trusted some co-workers. Trust. It's a bad bad thing. It slowly sucks me in and the next thing I know, I'm completely wrapped up in a person, place or thing. Attached. So when I was laid off there, I missed it, wanted to go back to where I'd finally started to feel safe and connected.
It would be a good year and some time later before I felt safe at a place again. This time it would be at Baylin. As you can read from my last entry, it started the day I interviewed - Doylestown gave me that feeling. As you can also read, it went awry. It wasn't like that in the beginning...or even the middle. It was the bitter end. The last 4-6 months.
In all of these "places" there was a moment when I knew it was over, when it no longer felt like home, when I either chose to look for another job or had to. But going back to my earlier point of emotions...the gut wrenching cries aren't ever tied to the physical places...they are tied to the people, the connections, the symbolism of a place. To the trust I had in someone that broke.
The broken trust busts up the home and the lack of resolution always leaves me searching.
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