Sunday, February 15, 2015

OMG, Welcome, Romania!

I've been gone for what feels like forever, and yet, there you are, a "new to me" country, checking me out, seeing if I've got anything worthwhile to say!

I'm so sorry I didn't necessarily have anything worthwhile to say, but at this point, THANK YOU for joining me here, and WELCOME! Please come back... for some reason, I think I may join you in the near future.
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In other news, I think I may be revisiting my own blog at least weekly. It may not happen daily, as it was in my "heyday", but weekly's better than NOTHING, right?
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Lately, Stephen's been feeling "guilty" that he took me out of the entertainment industry, and/or that I'm not as happy as I have been "fronting" that I am with my current job as an admin at the dance studio.

So I'd like to address those two issues.

1. Guilt. Bullshit - guilt is given to us from the Devil, not from God, so we have no business carrying it. Remorse is one thing; if I've done some heinous thing to hurt another human being, then I better damn well feel remorse. And ask forgiveness. And whether it is offered by that other human being, I need to accept God's forgiveness, and forgive myself, and get on with my life. But GUILT? No way, José. That ain't from God, so I don't need to carry it.

(as a side note, I just recently re-befriended my best friend from kindergarten on Facebook. We both forgave the other our lifelong remorse, and I look forward to a new, more mature, remote friendship. I know this will please the heck outta InnerHippie.)

2. Sometimes I really love my job. Sometimes it's just an admin position. Sometimes I get the distinct feeling that there is nothing I can do to live up to the personality of the girl I replaced, and even though I don't really care, per se, it does bug me a bit when the other folks talk about missing her in my presence. That's just rude, girls. I don't care how you slice it. Have that convo out of my earshot.

  • Today was a theme party day, it being Valentine's Day. The theme was "red". I don't own ANY stop-sign or candy-apple or Valentine "red" so I wore the closest thing I had. It was a cocktail dress with which it is impossible to wear a bra, so I also wore a pashmina over my shoulders and "the girls" all day. I knew that I looked good in my attire (and received several compliments) at the same time as I was uncomfortable in my skin - ALL DAY - since I was not "professionally" dressed. Something's gotta give there.
  • I was given a task or two that took longer to explain than it would have taken for the explainer to seek out the answers for herself. Why?
  • There are a few redundancies that exist "in the system", that no matter how I try to expedite them, will likely always exist. They are a waste of my time as well as a waste of ink and paper.  But what can I do?
  • I get to dance during my lunch break on Saturdays. What job, in any industry, can top that?

So. I had an okay day. I wasn't expecting "Valentine" stuff, and Stephen checked in with me pretty early in the day to make sure that I wouldn't be disappointed:
"I can get you chocolate, if you want" - "that's okay, I don't need any more chocolate than we keep on hand"
"I can get you some rice pudding, if you want" - "no, I can get my own rice pudding"
"I can get you flowers, if you want" - "no, get me flowers WHENEVER you feel like you wanna get me flowers. I'm not averse to cut flowers in the house. I don't like the obligation attached to February 14th."
So we're good. He was still up when I got home; he heard me say that I needed to re-home today's dress, and he suggested that we replace it, eventually. We had wine and chocolate, and caught up on the recent episode of Grimm, which we are happy to say, has yet to disappoint (yes, it was hard to like Nick at first, but they eventually allowed him to grow into his character). He's now gone to bed, and I'm going to do a little bit of Facebook lurking, and then I'll go to bed.

I'm sorry I've been gone so long. I do need to catch up on my blog-reading, but maybe having posted tonight will be an impetus for that. Maybe you'll hear from me, at least weekly! Won't that be a hoot?

2 comments:

  1. 1. Yes. Weekly is fine.
    2. Quite, quite pleased. As soon as I saw on Facebook that you two had finally reconnected, I wondered. Very, very happy that issues are being cleared up. Yay.
    3. Do the folks at your job know that it bothers you? Have you told them and they still do it, or are you just assuming everyone has the same sense of politeness and civility? At your age, if you don't speak up, others will not be able to read your mind. This is a painful truth that cost me my first marriage, but has strengthened my second one. 'Nuff said.
    4. A simple scarf or piece of costume jewelry from the thrift store may have sufficed for your "red wearing". Too late now, but something to keep in mind going forward. It's far better to be comfortable than not.
    5. We never celebrated Valentine's all day. We said the words to each other, but it's never really been an important holiday to either of us, so it's all good. We spend hours each night reveling in bad television from the 70's (Logan's Run tv series - what a hoot!) or watching one of our episodic shows we both enjoy (Hot in Cleveland or Gunsmoke anyone?) so, really, Valentine's Day can be celebrated at any time without the associated consumer-driven costs.

    Enough remarking. Now, on to the celebrations. Yay! I'm so glad you're back. I love you, baby sister. I look forward to the next installment. :-)

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    Replies
    1. #3 - it just happened yesterday, and I think they weren't being intentionally rude - they were being "positive" about the other girl but didn't realize that I could hear them and/or might be affected negatively.
      #4 - I don't really want to BUY even a small item just to fit a theme, when I honestly own NOTHING in that shade. I know how much you love shopping - I love it almost as much as YOU do. ;) And I love the dress that I wore - I was only uncomfortable in its appropriateness for work.

      Now, I really gotta catch up on my reading.

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