Sunday, March 23, 2014

Happiness is in the Eye of the Editor

How do you write about happiness without coming across as an overly idealistic, optimistic, sap?
It just seems that to write about happiness, you need to remove all tone and expression from it
to be taken seriously. Or not even to be taken seriously, but to not instantly be written off without
any second thought to content.

I started to write about appreciating the little things the other morning, and after letting my words sit for a
few hours, I re-read it and gagged on my dripping sappy words. At the time it was so real, so articulate,
so--right that to edit or dissect it seemed a crime against love. Against truth. Against life!

And then the power of self-editing sinks in.

You become the father in Moulin Rouge exclaiming that his son will waste his life away and never amount
to anything.

How do you refrain from self-editing? Is there worth in over-editing? Should I just give fewer f***s?

Dance in Your.....Whatever Kind of Morning

Dance! Dance every morning. I never understand it when people say they can't dance. Can they not dance, or do they just not want to be seen and ridiculoud? That fear never quite permeats me. Especially, if you've seen me dance, it's something between a dorky Charlie Brown and a 5-year old girl laughing.

Here's somethings to get you up and moving!
Tightrope - Janelle Monae

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Missed You

I missed writing. I really did. In the past two and  a half years, I've realized there is some functional relationship between writing and my overall well-being.

Not only does it allow me to be intraspective, but it soothes me. I've been in a lovely, long distance relationship for almost three years. I don't have many regrets, but one of them is that I abandoned writing. Many a fight would have been avoided if I simply went to a corner and scribbled my thoughts down.

Hopefully, my words--and relationship--can continue.

Friday, May 11, 2012

My Head is Made of Syrofoam

Those of you who know me well, or at least around enough to hear me bitch, probably know this phrase by now:

"My head is made of syrofoam"

To date, I've had four five concussions. Two were soccer related, one from rough-housing, and the most recent one from water polo. Oddly enough, I've never gotten a concussion from drunk antics, overall clumsiness or skiing.

UPDATE: Turns out I've now had five concussions.

This new concussion seems to be my most "legitimate" head injury. I was rear-ended yesterday on my way to work in a 45 mph zone. I do not know how fast the car behind me was going, but it was not a fun ride. After he hit me, my head hit the steering wheel, then hit the headrest, then said "WTF?!?!?!" Apparently the power from this impact was enough to put me into shock so I didn't notice the pain. I was preoccupied with being pissed that my baby's bumper/back panel is cracked (for reference my car is my baby; Ruby's a pretty girl).

My newly acquired medical history addition begs the question: "Why is my head so goddamn fragile?"

I took my vitamins when I was younger, and even now I still occasionally swallow a multivitamin. I drank milk and yogurt growing up, so we can not blame a lack of bone density. Perhaps all that bone density went elsewhere? The only bone I've ever broken was my toe due to a stupid decision. While not risk averse in life, I don't make completely stupid decisions all the time.

What is there left for me to do to protect my head? Should I invest in a bedazzled "life helmet"? I definitely choose a helmet over living in a bubble.

Should I try to be more careful? Should I embed a steel plate in my head? Why does Google's spell check not recognize "styrofoam" as a word? Ah the questions of life.


Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Organized Complaining

Related to my last post, I have been traveling a fair deal. I've also been using an annoying amount of passive voice (literally a little gremlin starts poking at my brain with a sharp fingernail—excessive passive voice is aggravating), but that’s beside the point.

This morning, after reflecting on the aggravation of dealing with customer service, I have some guidelines. Don’t mistake me for being a hardass or hypocrite here. I’ve traveled more than most people ever will, and I do have patience, however, I operate on a two strike policy. I expect employees in customer service to do their job to the best of their capabilities, politely and pleasantly. Those are some of the caveats of service; you need to be polite and pleasant.

1) Never fly with or deal with Delta airlines if you can help it.
     a. I have a special vein that pops reserved for Delta operations, customer service, and employees.
      b. I’m glad you found a job where you can be an incompetent idiot, but I’d rather you be hoarding my tax dollars in welfare than messing with my travel.
    c. If your airline causes delays, possible missed flights, and inconsideration then it is your job to compensate me and find the best possible solution as soon as possible. I should not have to tell you what to do or how to do your job.
2) When dealing with financial organizations, or long phone chains, when in doubt press “0”. In most cases it takes you directly to an operator.
3) Phone trees are the plague. Have your organization limit the number of branches they use. a. Talking to that “dummy” operator makes everyone seem silly. Either improve your voice recognition software or go with the technique of pressing buttons.
4) Be polite to your passengers as a flight attendant. Your job is to secure safety, bring drinks and be pleasant. Barking, sass, snark and unpleasant sarcasm are unwelcome. If you are having a bad day, be human and explain that to your passengers. They will be a lot more understanding than just watching you pick away at another passenger.
5) When traveling, pick a layover wisely.
      a. Too little time and you’ll become a hot mess running through terminals. No one wants to be that person bashing others with their baggage.
      b. Too much time and you will be bored out of your mind. Depending on the airport, there is only so much area to wander. I’ve done a few laps around Newark before.
      c. Pick a time that allows you to get where you want to be without excess perspiration.
           i. Preferably you will be able to read a little bit, be prepared, and have a well-deserved drink.
6) Travel with a loved one. Nothing makes stress more manageable than smooches. Apart from booze that is.    a. The magical combination is to be lightly buzzed with your significant other.
7) If “Economy Plus” is only $9 more, it’s worth it. Trust me. I’m not even that tall either.

 I don’t doubt that more pet peeves will surface eventually, but for now, bullet points and numbering remind me too much of work. Peace out homeslices.

I apologize for the odd formatting. My brain was stuck between "regular" typing and HTML. 

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Airport Eating

In my work, I have been traveling a lot more in the past two to three months. Due to the increased frequency of travel (air travel here, we're not talking measly drives to Chicago, but plane rides to the East Coast, West Coast and Caribbean) I started to notice some of my odd behaviors more.

Whenever I am flying through O'Hare, if I am tired or stressed at all I have a default comfort order. Not nutritious, apparently delicious, give me a small order of fries and a M&M McFlurry, and I'm good to go. I don't fully know how this craving came about. My main hypothesis is a childhood craving for junk food, since we weren't allowed it regularly. I suppose it's comparable to a frostie and fries, although let's be serious, McDonald's fries are clearly superior. Didn't you know they put crack in the fryer?

The oddest thing is that it happens only in O'Hare. I guess it's because I hate that airport?

That's a separate rant entirely.

A recent development in commuter consumption is the booze. While I was still flying across country for college, and some flights were post 21, I never felt the urge to drink while traveling until I started working. Perhaps it was college frugality? Then again, I had a $40 bottle of Chambourd above my fridge Senior year. Maybe I truly wasn't as stressed? I really think that while professional travel brings stress, it also allows you to be reimbursed for checked bags. Who wants to worry about the aftermaths of your whiskey sours combining with the motor skills to navigate a large roller-board?

This girl sure doesn't.

In completely unrelated news, this song has been in my head all day. I'm sure I've annoyed in someone in the office by now thanks to my officemate's speakers.

Just You, Me and the Interwebs

Hello again everyone.