Until I get married. Well...Yesterday. Today it's just 99 days.
It's really shocking when you find someone who sees you with all your baggage and all the drama that is going on in your life and they never seem to wither away from you.
Whether we have the right napkins or not, I'm ready to get married now...
Friday, December 21, 2007
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
That's great, it starts with an earthquake...
At the holiday party last Thursday, a lawyer who I hadn't really talked to sat next to me. This was after dinner (at the Shanghai Terrace - very nice!) and drinks which it was clear he had partaken in. He wasn't handsy or anything, but he slurred a couple words and was overly apologetic in a way that someone who is a little too tipsy for their own comfort can be.
We were just talking and he asked where I was from, where I went to school, and what I wanted to do. I told him I went to Grinnell College, and he seemed impressed (it's a very good school and I didn't break any records for academic achievement, but I did pretty well). Then he asked why I was working as a file clerk. I told him I was hoping to get my "creative writing career" going and this was just paying the bills.
I specifically mentioned I wanted to write comics. he asked if I had noticed if our firm represented any comic book publishers. I had and we do. It's not either of the big two, but it's got a good reputation and puts out good books (kissing up? You betcha.)
He said he'd try to help me finagle a way to get my stuff in front of people, "because you need to start planning for your time after" the firm.
Wow. I was shocked and happy. Getting a break like this would be perfect. Exactly what I wanted/needed.
All I had to do was try to find out the attorney who handled the publisher and be ready to accept that he or she might not want to bother their client.
Fair enough.
. . .
Two work days later. Monday at about 3.20, I report to the conference room to talk to my boss and the uber-boss on speaker phone.
Apparently my job has been outsourced. That's the bad news.
The good news, is that they're working with an outsourcing company that may want to hire me and put me right where I am now.
I was floored. I'd just gotten my review a week before and I'd done well. Very well. I mean, it was apparent my boss had put little time or thought into it, but I got a good bonus and I was supposed to get a good raise, so everything was good, right?
I guess yes and no.
During the talk I got from my boss as well as the three people from the outsourcing agency (which seems really good, despite the first picture that outsourcing brings up) kept bringing up that this was a "business decision".
It's cliché of me to deride that what's a "business decision" for them is in fact very personal to me, but it is. Though, that doesn't change anything.
What really strikes me about this (aside from doing it a week before Christmas, which is bad form--business decision or not) is how much I'm not panicking. I'm worried. Definitely concerned. But I'm not yanking out my hair.
Maybe part of the lack of panic comes from still being part of their plans, though part of me does want to tell them to shove it.
But I think I just don't really feel that attached to this job. I like it okay, most the time. I do it well most days. But, I can do better. I should do better.
Another, probably more major part of it, is I'm really starting to see how fragile everything is. And not in that scary, it's gonna break if I fuck it up sort of way, but more, it can break if I don't build it up, sort of way.
I remember a conversation with my father after I was out of college, living in a shit-box apartment, getting over a terrible break-up (a good deal of the terribleness being my fault and causing no little amount of self-doubt and self-loathing). During the conversation, I told my father, "I just feel like I'm floating. Directionless." I don't remember what my father said exactly, but it was sort of a message of don't worry, you'll figure it out. It's okay to float for a while. Okay advice, but I never became fully un-floating. Facets of my life have taken direction, and I've pointed my way on a certain number of them. My career hasn't been one of them.
So, I'll probably end up right where I am now (barring anything unforeseen), getting around the same salary. Doing mostly the same work. Getting better benefits (which I found odd, but sure). This might be better in the short-term and possibly long-term if my writing isn't what I think it is. So, that's good.
But, hopefully I won't be as comfortable. Hopefully the cocoon is broken.
I don't know the lawyer's offer will get me anywhere, but it's a chance. And if I hustle I can get more chances. And that's what I need.
We were just talking and he asked where I was from, where I went to school, and what I wanted to do. I told him I went to Grinnell College, and he seemed impressed (it's a very good school and I didn't break any records for academic achievement, but I did pretty well). Then he asked why I was working as a file clerk. I told him I was hoping to get my "creative writing career" going and this was just paying the bills.
I specifically mentioned I wanted to write comics. he asked if I had noticed if our firm represented any comic book publishers. I had and we do. It's not either of the big two, but it's got a good reputation and puts out good books (kissing up? You betcha.)
He said he'd try to help me finagle a way to get my stuff in front of people, "because you need to start planning for your time after" the firm.
Wow. I was shocked and happy. Getting a break like this would be perfect. Exactly what I wanted/needed.
All I had to do was try to find out the attorney who handled the publisher and be ready to accept that he or she might not want to bother their client.
Fair enough.
. . .
Two work days later. Monday at about 3.20, I report to the conference room to talk to my boss and the uber-boss on speaker phone.
Apparently my job has been outsourced. That's the bad news.
The good news, is that they're working with an outsourcing company that may want to hire me and put me right where I am now.
I was floored. I'd just gotten my review a week before and I'd done well. Very well. I mean, it was apparent my boss had put little time or thought into it, but I got a good bonus and I was supposed to get a good raise, so everything was good, right?
I guess yes and no.
During the talk I got from my boss as well as the three people from the outsourcing agency (which seems really good, despite the first picture that outsourcing brings up) kept bringing up that this was a "business decision".
It's cliché of me to deride that what's a "business decision" for them is in fact very personal to me, but it is. Though, that doesn't change anything.
What really strikes me about this (aside from doing it a week before Christmas, which is bad form--business decision or not) is how much I'm not panicking. I'm worried. Definitely concerned. But I'm not yanking out my hair.
Maybe part of the lack of panic comes from still being part of their plans, though part of me does want to tell them to shove it.
But I think I just don't really feel that attached to this job. I like it okay, most the time. I do it well most days. But, I can do better. I should do better.
Another, probably more major part of it, is I'm really starting to see how fragile everything is. And not in that scary, it's gonna break if I fuck it up sort of way, but more, it can break if I don't build it up, sort of way.
I remember a conversation with my father after I was out of college, living in a shit-box apartment, getting over a terrible break-up (a good deal of the terribleness being my fault and causing no little amount of self-doubt and self-loathing). During the conversation, I told my father, "I just feel like I'm floating. Directionless." I don't remember what my father said exactly, but it was sort of a message of don't worry, you'll figure it out. It's okay to float for a while. Okay advice, but I never became fully un-floating. Facets of my life have taken direction, and I've pointed my way on a certain number of them. My career hasn't been one of them.
So, I'll probably end up right where I am now (barring anything unforeseen), getting around the same salary. Doing mostly the same work. Getting better benefits (which I found odd, but sure). This might be better in the short-term and possibly long-term if my writing isn't what I think it is. So, that's good.
But, hopefully I won't be as comfortable. Hopefully the cocoon is broken.
I don't know the lawyer's offer will get me anywhere, but it's a chance. And if I hustle I can get more chances. And that's what I need.
UPDATE: The office admin just sent around a memo that doesn't mention me, or the other employees effected by name. Just says, "our present employees". Shouldn't bother me. Does.
...Save yourself, serve yourself. World serves its own needs, listen to your heart bleed dummy with the rapture and the revered and the right, right.
...Save yourself, serve yourself. World serves its own needs, listen to your heart bleed dummy with the rapture and the revered and the right, right.
Friday, December 7, 2007
Wedding Music...
Putting together the music for the dancing/partying part of the reception has been a lot more difficult than I originally thought it would be. Going into it, I just thought, well, I'll just put together 3 - 4 hours of music I like and that'll work. And it would've, except that we invited other people, and they don't all want to hear Poison and Morris Day and the Time. I know I have to have a first dance with my lady, but otherwise, I don't want to be one of only two people up there. So, I had to sit down and try to organize a playlist that will get other people dancing and will still be fun for me.
I don't want the music to be generic wedding music; I want something that'll reflect our tastes. The problem with that is most people agree that my taste in music is....well, horrible. So, I had to ask myself some questions, as well as answer questions from other concerned people. These are those questions with some answers:
1. Can I play any song by Boston? Sadly, No. Not even Amanda.
2. Is there a way to include 3 Backstreet Boys songs? Probably not. 2 though.
3. What's a good 1st dance song?/What will your 1st dance be? There are plenty of options, but really, I want to have something that's not been done before. I went to a wedding where Summer of 69 was the 1st dance. It was their "song". We dont' really have a "song". And, as much as I like that song, it's out of the running just because someone else used it, right? Now, I'm pretty sure we're set on a 1st dance. It's different, sweet without being sacharine and it's the most closely guarded secret I have other than where I buried my Ken Griffey Jr. rookie cards in 5th grade. (seriously, it was what a pirate would've done.)
4. How can I keep it interesting for everyone? Seriously, not as hard as I thought. I think the playlist will be a little front-loaded with more familiar songs, so that the older croud will be more interested. And I'm sort of banking on the fact that they'll either a) leave earlier, b) get tired of dancing, or c) not be able to hold their liquor as well as the younger crowd. But still, the more familiar songs are still pretty good. We've got some Jackson 5 in there, some B-52's, a little Jackie Wilson; there's good stuff up front.
5. So, it won't be just songs you listened to with your friends in college? No. But some of the old favorites have to be there. I mean, we're holding it at our college.
6. Will there by any hokey-pokey? Sadly, no. Dinah was injured in a hokey pokey accident when she was younger, so it would be too much to ask her to dance that cursed jig. (That might not be true.)
7. Seriously, no hokey-pokey? Then what about Chicken Dance? The rumor around the campfire is that a soon to be in-law of mine will be leading this with my future wife. And, yes, that's the gene pool my children will wade out of.
8. Have you found a place to put some Springsteen in? This is the most glaring ommision so far. Bruce is a favorite of mine and he's written so many good songs, but we (really I) can't find one that's dancey enough to work. (I can't do Dancing in the Dark, because I'm still so jealous of Courtney Cox.) UPDATE: I may have found a slow dance Springsteen that I can work in. So just know, New Jersey, order has been restored.
9. You lead us to believe there may be no Morris Day and the Time. And Poison. That can't be right. Listen, whatever party I go to/throw has room for Morris Day and the Time. That's a given. I won't even consider a wedding without Jungle Love. Poison, though. That's a tough call. I know my mom will be upset if I don't play Unskinny Bop. But, I think it might not make the cut. So far it isn't there.
10. Wow. So. No Boston. No Poison. What are you playing? Well. I want some surprises, but there's a lot of good stuff. Some Chubby Checker, Fleetwood Mac, a surprising amount of Michael Jackson, David Allan Coe (natch), Kenny Loggins, Wilson Picket, Talking Heads, The Coasters, They Might Be Giants. Good stuff.
11. Will there be anything for the hipsters? Um. Elvis Costello? He wears those cool glasses. That's hip right?
12. That's it Elvis Costello? Um. Next question.
13. So. Is everyone required to dance? Yes. I think in the invitations will be schedule of which dances everyone is supposed to dance and where. Dinah and I have put a lot of thought into what couples should dance next to each other, based on height, personality, wingspan, whether their suits/dresses might clash, OBP, and our own whimsy and capricious nature.
Anyway, I hope that clears things up and gets everyone (anyone) ready to have a good time.
I don't want the music to be generic wedding music; I want something that'll reflect our tastes. The problem with that is most people agree that my taste in music is....well, horrible. So, I had to ask myself some questions, as well as answer questions from other concerned people. These are those questions with some answers:
1. Can I play any song by Boston? Sadly, No. Not even Amanda.
2. Is there a way to include 3 Backstreet Boys songs? Probably not. 2 though.
3. What's a good 1st dance song?/What will your 1st dance be? There are plenty of options, but really, I want to have something that's not been done before. I went to a wedding where Summer of 69 was the 1st dance. It was their "song". We dont' really have a "song". And, as much as I like that song, it's out of the running just because someone else used it, right? Now, I'm pretty sure we're set on a 1st dance. It's different, sweet without being sacharine and it's the most closely guarded secret I have other than where I buried my Ken Griffey Jr. rookie cards in 5th grade. (seriously, it was what a pirate would've done.)
4. How can I keep it interesting for everyone? Seriously, not as hard as I thought. I think the playlist will be a little front-loaded with more familiar songs, so that the older croud will be more interested. And I'm sort of banking on the fact that they'll either a) leave earlier, b) get tired of dancing, or c) not be able to hold their liquor as well as the younger crowd. But still, the more familiar songs are still pretty good. We've got some Jackson 5 in there, some B-52's, a little Jackie Wilson; there's good stuff up front.
5. So, it won't be just songs you listened to with your friends in college? No. But some of the old favorites have to be there. I mean, we're holding it at our college.
6. Will there by any hokey-pokey? Sadly, no. Dinah was injured in a hokey pokey accident when she was younger, so it would be too much to ask her to dance that cursed jig. (That might not be true.)
7. Seriously, no hokey-pokey? Then what about Chicken Dance? The rumor around the campfire is that a soon to be in-law of mine will be leading this with my future wife. And, yes, that's the gene pool my children will wade out of.
8. Have you found a place to put some Springsteen in? This is the most glaring ommision so far. Bruce is a favorite of mine and he's written so many good songs, but we (really I) can't find one that's dancey enough to work. (I can't do Dancing in the Dark, because I'm still so jealous of Courtney Cox.) UPDATE: I may have found a slow dance Springsteen that I can work in. So just know, New Jersey, order has been restored.
9. You lead us to believe there may be no Morris Day and the Time. And Poison. That can't be right. Listen, whatever party I go to/throw has room for Morris Day and the Time. That's a given. I won't even consider a wedding without Jungle Love. Poison, though. That's a tough call. I know my mom will be upset if I don't play Unskinny Bop. But, I think it might not make the cut. So far it isn't there.
10. Wow. So. No Boston. No Poison. What are you playing? Well. I want some surprises, but there's a lot of good stuff. Some Chubby Checker, Fleetwood Mac, a surprising amount of Michael Jackson, David Allan Coe (natch), Kenny Loggins, Wilson Picket, Talking Heads, The Coasters, They Might Be Giants. Good stuff.
11. Will there be anything for the hipsters? Um. Elvis Costello? He wears those cool glasses. That's hip right?
12. That's it Elvis Costello? Um. Next question.
13. So. Is everyone required to dance? Yes. I think in the invitations will be schedule of which dances everyone is supposed to dance and where. Dinah and I have put a lot of thought into what couples should dance next to each other, based on height, personality, wingspan, whether their suits/dresses might clash, OBP, and our own whimsy and capricious nature.
Anyway, I hope that clears things up and gets everyone (anyone) ready to have a good time.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
A point.
My father was a great father. He really was. I have fond memories of my dad telling me he was proud of me when I'd get a hit in little league or when I'd bring home good grades in school. I remember playing cribbage with him, joking with him, just enjoying being around him.
My father was a great father. He was the kind of man I wanted to grow up to be. He had a fine job. He had a happy marriage. A nice house. Good kids. He had a good life. He was happy.
That's what I always thought about him until he came home one day and told my mother that he'd filed for a divorce.
It was a shock to me. And in the ensuing months, when my father suddenly had a new live-in girlfriend, who moved from Florida after having talked to him online for 5 or 6 years, and alienating all 3 of his children (to varying degrees), as well as displaying some irradic behavior, I remember thinking he was going through some sort of life-crisis. I even asked him if he was. To which he said, "Somethings just got to a point, where I needed a change." Regardless of people's feelings and expectations, apparently, but I digress.
I bring this up not to lament about my daddy-issues or to pillary the man (though clearly I have some and he probably deserves it). I bring this up because I can see where my father was coming from. Sort of.
I don't know when he started feeling whatever it is that led him to feel he had to act out so manicly, but it must have been building for a while for him to feel justified in his actions. I sometimes wonder what it was that set him off finally. And I wonder what it was that was building in him, unnurtured and angry, all that time. I wonder if he had dreams he couldn't pursue after he came back from Vietnam and got married and started having kids. And really I just feel bad for him. Angry, though I am, I just pity him for forcing himself to go through the motions for however long and pretending to still be the same proud father and happy husband.
It's a weird feeling when someone you love becomes a cautionary tale. Despite their actions, you want things to work out for them, because you love them, even if you can't talk to them. And I guess things could work out for him. But I feel guilty knowing that my life is going to be better because I've seen his mistakes I know that I can work to avoid them.
My father was a great father. He was the kind of man I wanted to grow up to be. He had a fine job. He had a happy marriage. A nice house. Good kids. He had a good life. He was happy.
That's what I always thought about him until he came home one day and told my mother that he'd filed for a divorce.
It was a shock to me. And in the ensuing months, when my father suddenly had a new live-in girlfriend, who moved from Florida after having talked to him online for 5 or 6 years, and alienating all 3 of his children (to varying degrees), as well as displaying some irradic behavior, I remember thinking he was going through some sort of life-crisis. I even asked him if he was. To which he said, "Somethings just got to a point, where I needed a change." Regardless of people's feelings and expectations, apparently, but I digress.
I bring this up not to lament about my daddy-issues or to pillary the man (though clearly I have some and he probably deserves it). I bring this up because I can see where my father was coming from. Sort of.
I don't know when he started feeling whatever it is that led him to feel he had to act out so manicly, but it must have been building for a while for him to feel justified in his actions. I sometimes wonder what it was that set him off finally. And I wonder what it was that was building in him, unnurtured and angry, all that time. I wonder if he had dreams he couldn't pursue after he came back from Vietnam and got married and started having kids. And really I just feel bad for him. Angry, though I am, I just pity him for forcing himself to go through the motions for however long and pretending to still be the same proud father and happy husband.
It's a weird feeling when someone you love becomes a cautionary tale. Despite their actions, you want things to work out for them, because you love them, even if you can't talk to them. And I guess things could work out for him. But I feel guilty knowing that my life is going to be better because I've seen his mistakes I know that I can work to avoid them.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
30 from 30...
30 days from turning 30.
30 years old.
It doesn't freak me out that much. It's just interesting to think about in terms of how things have changed for me in the last year and how things are going to change for me soon.
The biggest change is getting married. Which really isn't that much of a change, because we've been together for 4 + years, so. I get some new jewelry and a tax break, very nice.
I guess part of the reason I've started to really reflect on what I'm doing with my life and where I'm going and such. So, to celebrate, I'm gonna ramble for a bit about expectations and my life and such.
In church when I was a kid, I remember people would always ask me what I wanted to be when I got older. For a while I think I said I wanted to be a teacher (before I realized how completely under seige from parents and administrators those poor bastards are). And I remember one woman at church (who we'll call Peggy--because that was her name), seemed to always be dissappointed by that answer.
"Now Joe, don't you think you could be a doctor? Or a lawyer? Or maybe you could even be President." It was a constant message from everyone, set your goals high. Or rather, we have set your goals high. And I've always been so frightened of dissappointing poeple. Not a good combination.
Fast forward two decades plus. I remember when my Dad left my Mom, I went on a spree of writing. It was great (not the Dad leaving Mom thing, that was actually rather hard, despite me being 27ish at the time, but that's another thing). I just suddenly let myself have the freedom to write down the ideas I had. I'm not sure what the connection between the two are, but I think it has something to do with starting to acept that my expectations for my parents (that they'd live together until one or both of them died) weren't realistic. And maybe I started questioning others expectations for me.
What hasn't helped me is the guilt I feel for being relatively healthy and for getting breaks I've gotten. My father and mother both have genetic flaws (for lack of a better word), that have been passed on to my brother and sister (in varying combinations), and not to me (at least thus far). For most my childhood part of going to the doctor for a checkup was going to a heart doctor and having special tests (I can't remember what test it was, thus it's a "special test") to see if we had the same condition as my mother. And I always felt guilty when mine came back clear. And I was always tracked higher in school than my brother and sister. And I remember being told that being tracked higher and taking AP classes didn't make me smarter than my sister, it was just that she was missed. And I understand why my parents said this, but, it wasn't so great for me to not have my talents embraced because they might make others feel bad. (Just two examples. My childhood was mostly happy, I swear).
I don't know. What I do know is that it's time for me to outline my own expectations are and stop worrying as much about others expectations and all of their baggage.
Anyhoo. It seems like 30 is probably a good time to finally figure that seemingly basic idea out and start putting it into practice.
30 years old.
It doesn't freak me out that much. It's just interesting to think about in terms of how things have changed for me in the last year and how things are going to change for me soon.
The biggest change is getting married. Which really isn't that much of a change, because we've been together for 4 + years, so. I get some new jewelry and a tax break, very nice.
I guess part of the reason I've started to really reflect on what I'm doing with my life and where I'm going and such. So, to celebrate, I'm gonna ramble for a bit about expectations and my life and such.
In church when I was a kid, I remember people would always ask me what I wanted to be when I got older. For a while I think I said I wanted to be a teacher (before I realized how completely under seige from parents and administrators those poor bastards are). And I remember one woman at church (who we'll call Peggy--because that was her name), seemed to always be dissappointed by that answer.
"Now Joe, don't you think you could be a doctor? Or a lawyer? Or maybe you could even be President." It was a constant message from everyone, set your goals high. Or rather, we have set your goals high. And I've always been so frightened of dissappointing poeple. Not a good combination.
Fast forward two decades plus. I remember when my Dad left my Mom, I went on a spree of writing. It was great (not the Dad leaving Mom thing, that was actually rather hard, despite me being 27ish at the time, but that's another thing). I just suddenly let myself have the freedom to write down the ideas I had. I'm not sure what the connection between the two are, but I think it has something to do with starting to acept that my expectations for my parents (that they'd live together until one or both of them died) weren't realistic. And maybe I started questioning others expectations for me.
What hasn't helped me is the guilt I feel for being relatively healthy and for getting breaks I've gotten. My father and mother both have genetic flaws (for lack of a better word), that have been passed on to my brother and sister (in varying combinations), and not to me (at least thus far). For most my childhood part of going to the doctor for a checkup was going to a heart doctor and having special tests (I can't remember what test it was, thus it's a "special test") to see if we had the same condition as my mother. And I always felt guilty when mine came back clear. And I was always tracked higher in school than my brother and sister. And I remember being told that being tracked higher and taking AP classes didn't make me smarter than my sister, it was just that she was missed. And I understand why my parents said this, but, it wasn't so great for me to not have my talents embraced because they might make others feel bad. (Just two examples. My childhood was mostly happy, I swear).
I don't know. What I do know is that it's time for me to outline my own expectations are and stop worrying as much about others expectations and all of their baggage.
Anyhoo. It seems like 30 is probably a good time to finally figure that seemingly basic idea out and start putting it into practice.
Monday, November 5, 2007
Office Survival (No. 1)
I started my current job about 10 months ago. One of the most important things about starting a new job is being nice to everyone for a while, so you can figure out who are going to be your work-friends (if any) and who it is you need to avoid. This is an undertaking for me, because I'm a shy person, who speaks quietly when I'm uncomfortable or don't know people.
So, the first time I said hello to one attorney I work with, and she didn't say anything back, I thought it was because I'd spoken too quietly and she hadn't heard me. This meant I'd have to do better next time. I'd have to smile and look at her more directly and I would have to speak with a little more confidence.
She's a busy person who does a lot of traveling, so my next opportunity to say 'howdy' came a couple weeks later. I saw her coming around the corner, I inhaled, smiled and unleashed a "Hi" that was chipper without being saccharine. You see, I've worked in offices for over 7 years now, and if there's one skill that should be valued over all else, it's the morning, "hi". It's crucial. You have to say it with some vigor, but without overselling it, so that whoever you're unleashing it on doesn't think it's cool to come to your cube and talk to you about how their personal life is. You have to be friendly without being available. The perfect office greeting says I acknowledge your existence, even if I want very little to do with it. And I don't want to toot my own horn, but what I had just performed was the perfect office "hi."
Her reaction? She looked at the ground and walked by me without a hi, a wave or anything. What happened was more of a shudder. It was like I was trying to talk to a high school cheerleader and she couldn't bear the social consequences of being seen near me. I figured she was having a bad day. Attorneys are always expressing their bad days in socially awkward or rude ways. It's part of the excitement of working around them so much.
Well, the next time I showed off my perfect command of office etiquette, her reaction was worse. She forcibly rolled her eyes, though at no time during the rotation did they come close to acknowledging me. And the look of anger she made. I think she would've stabbed me if she could think of doing it in a way that didn't acknowledge I was alive.
At first I was pretty pissed that she should think she's just too good to talk to the lowly File Clerk (or whatever my title really is...but that's a whole different thing). But. It's pretty amusing that anytime I say hi to her, she's going to play high school on me.
Imagine, having to cope with the office environment like that. I almost pity her and want to teach her how to survive. But as it is, she can just expect plenty of "hi"s coming her way.
So, the first time I said hello to one attorney I work with, and she didn't say anything back, I thought it was because I'd spoken too quietly and she hadn't heard me. This meant I'd have to do better next time. I'd have to smile and look at her more directly and I would have to speak with a little more confidence.
She's a busy person who does a lot of traveling, so my next opportunity to say 'howdy' came a couple weeks later. I saw her coming around the corner, I inhaled, smiled and unleashed a "Hi" that was chipper without being saccharine. You see, I've worked in offices for over 7 years now, and if there's one skill that should be valued over all else, it's the morning, "hi". It's crucial. You have to say it with some vigor, but without overselling it, so that whoever you're unleashing it on doesn't think it's cool to come to your cube and talk to you about how their personal life is. You have to be friendly without being available. The perfect office greeting says I acknowledge your existence, even if I want very little to do with it. And I don't want to toot my own horn, but what I had just performed was the perfect office "hi."
Her reaction? She looked at the ground and walked by me without a hi, a wave or anything. What happened was more of a shudder. It was like I was trying to talk to a high school cheerleader and she couldn't bear the social consequences of being seen near me. I figured she was having a bad day. Attorneys are always expressing their bad days in socially awkward or rude ways. It's part of the excitement of working around them so much.
Well, the next time I showed off my perfect command of office etiquette, her reaction was worse. She forcibly rolled her eyes, though at no time during the rotation did they come close to acknowledging me. And the look of anger she made. I think she would've stabbed me if she could think of doing it in a way that didn't acknowledge I was alive.
At first I was pretty pissed that she should think she's just too good to talk to the lowly File Clerk (or whatever my title really is...but that's a whole different thing). But. It's pretty amusing that anytime I say hi to her, she's going to play high school on me.
Imagine, having to cope with the office environment like that. I almost pity her and want to teach her how to survive. But as it is, she can just expect plenty of "hi"s coming her way.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Halloween Potluck!
It sounded innocuous enough, but when I saw the notice come across my work email address, I dreaded it. Forced social interaction with attorneys and secretaries and all of the personalities of the people I work with. Now, they're all nice people. Some are very funny and very nice.
But.
There's something weird about it for me. I (with so much help from Dinah) spent time Tuesday night making up pumpkin bread to bring as my contribution. The whole time I'm mixing it up, I'm thinking about what I'm going to say. Wondering whether I could be funny or if I should just try to get through it quietly. I was seriously anxious about it.
I used to be so confident. I think. (I could be misremembering it, trying to think there's this ideal me out there that I lost track of.) But, I don't think so. I think I used to really have a lot of confidence in the feeling of who I am. I was never a social butterfly (and I probably never will be), but I didn't get anxious about having to talk with people.
So. Where did I lose that confidence? And how do I get it back?
For the first question, I don't know, really. I have my ideas, but it probably wouldn't help to go into it now. As for getting it back, well. I guess I just gotta jump in and start doing some of these things that I am not sure I can. And not be too hard on myself when I fail.
God, that's one thing I've got to change. Because after the Potluck yesterday, I thought about the couple comments I made. How I could've timed them better. How I could've said something more here or there. Gauging the laughs and whether they were big, or whether they were just polite. And yeah, it's a potluck with co-workers whose opinion of me matters only a little bit. This level of scrutiny is not healthy for me. I gotta give myself room to fuck up.
On this and on the bigger things that I'm procrastinating on. (Like my writing).
But.
There's something weird about it for me. I (with so much help from Dinah) spent time Tuesday night making up pumpkin bread to bring as my contribution. The whole time I'm mixing it up, I'm thinking about what I'm going to say. Wondering whether I could be funny or if I should just try to get through it quietly. I was seriously anxious about it.
I used to be so confident. I think. (I could be misremembering it, trying to think there's this ideal me out there that I lost track of.) But, I don't think so. I think I used to really have a lot of confidence in the feeling of who I am. I was never a social butterfly (and I probably never will be), but I didn't get anxious about having to talk with people.
So. Where did I lose that confidence? And how do I get it back?
For the first question, I don't know, really. I have my ideas, but it probably wouldn't help to go into it now. As for getting it back, well. I guess I just gotta jump in and start doing some of these things that I am not sure I can. And not be too hard on myself when I fail.
God, that's one thing I've got to change. Because after the Potluck yesterday, I thought about the couple comments I made. How I could've timed them better. How I could've said something more here or there. Gauging the laughs and whether they were big, or whether they were just polite. And yeah, it's a potluck with co-workers whose opinion of me matters only a little bit. This level of scrutiny is not healthy for me. I gotta give myself room to fuck up.
On this and on the bigger things that I'm procrastinating on. (Like my writing).
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Choices...
Everyday I navigate through my day mostly trying to avoid any hassles or snags that might make me feel bad. I get of the El (in Chicago) and I try to walk at the right speed to catch all of the traffic lights so I don't have time to stop and think about why it is I am headed to work. Wearing and iPod helps distract me if there is a momentary delay in my getting to work, setting my bag down, sticking my lunch in the fridge getting a bowl for my granola and filling up my water glass, before I sit at my desk and start my day.
Then I start the routine of pushing myself through the moments trying to balance the momentary of my work with my need to be seen as good at what I do--even if I don't respect what I do.
And when that's through, I try to sail through the lights, back the way I came and try to manage to get a seat on the train (or at least a spot to stand where no one is jostling me with their bags or hips). I listen to some Springsteen and mostly try to think about what I need to do to be a writer or lose weight or improve myself in one form or another.
That is the bulk of my day. And I can't say that I really like it. So, I'll spend whatever time I have left trying to make myself happy, which sometimes works. Don't get me wrong, there are great bright spots in my life. My fiancée (Dinah), my friends, what have you. But for so long, I've felt sort of like a spectator--waiting for the right moment to come along and seize me in a moment and change everything for me, while all the while I've made the same choices in a redundant cycle of self-flagellation (to state it dramatically).
I'm not sure if I didn't see the other choices or if I see them now, even. But. That's what this blog will be about. Finding the other choices and trying to make myself happier, day-to-day.
In short--it's gonna be incredibly narcissistic.
Then I start the routine of pushing myself through the moments trying to balance the momentary of my work with my need to be seen as good at what I do--even if I don't respect what I do.
And when that's through, I try to sail through the lights, back the way I came and try to manage to get a seat on the train (or at least a spot to stand where no one is jostling me with their bags or hips). I listen to some Springsteen and mostly try to think about what I need to do to be a writer or lose weight or improve myself in one form or another.
That is the bulk of my day. And I can't say that I really like it. So, I'll spend whatever time I have left trying to make myself happy, which sometimes works. Don't get me wrong, there are great bright spots in my life. My fiancée (Dinah), my friends, what have you. But for so long, I've felt sort of like a spectator--waiting for the right moment to come along and seize me in a moment and change everything for me, while all the while I've made the same choices in a redundant cycle of self-flagellation (to state it dramatically).
I'm not sure if I didn't see the other choices or if I see them now, even. But. That's what this blog will be about. Finding the other choices and trying to make myself happier, day-to-day.
In short--it's gonna be incredibly narcissistic.
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