Kindness

Twice now I've seen the same girl leave the teen room of the library crying uncontrollably, in the same week. A librarian goes in and talks to the kids still in there, then one or two might be asked to leave, but that's the most action I've seen taken. The girl is almost impossible to understand, but basically she's being verbally bullied in that room but it seems like nothing is really being done about it. Sometimes she dresses provocatively, high heels, fitted clothes, yesterday it was a low cut top. She dresses the way young girls think boys like because boys respond to older women who dress like that. But they just make fun of the girls who do it. And she keeps coming back, that's the awful part. It's like she's hoping a different set of heels or a tighter article of clothing will make these boys like her. It's worrying. I watched a librarian speak to the boys, the walls are glass so I can see the conversation but I can't hear it, and one of the boys actually stopped another from speaking and stood in front of him, like he was protecting him. From what? Being told it's never acceptable to bully someone? Because it isn't and you can't hide from that reality. After everything cooled down I took a moment to reflect and it actually made me feel physically ill.

Why do young women hate their bodies so much? What other reason would we have for putting so much of ourselves on display, even when we're mocked and ridiculed for it, if not because we don't like ourselves and we need validation? If not to have someone notice us, even if it's negatively. At twenty-five, with a husband and best friend who loves me, with friends and family who love me, literally exactly the way I am, why do I still hate my body so much? What does it say about us as a society that an intelligent, funny, fairly well-balanced, caring individual still thinks she's not exceptional because her dress size has two numbers in it?

Some honesty (what else?): Sometimes I like hanging out with my heavier friends cause they make me feel thinner. Sometimes I don't like hanging out with my thin friends cause they make me feel huge. (Like, behemoth huge.) That's sick, I know. It's also totally true. My friends are great, I should want to hang out with them based on that. Not based on if they make me look better, or worse, by comparison. Another example of 'I'm a terrible person.'

Back to the important part: be kind to others and be kind to yourself. The really important part though, in my self-centered opinion, is be kind to yourself. Even when others aren't kind to you. Everything else will stem from there, at least that's what I find. When I'm nice to myself, I'm more inclined to be nice to others.

More Musings

We celebrated my birthday early this month and mom posted some pictures of the festivities on Facebook and people wished me a happy birthday. Except it wasn't on my actual birthday. So now people think my birthday is March 2nd. It's not. I don't have my birthday on Facebook cause I don't like insincere birthday wishes. If you remembered on your own and it's like, two days later, that's cool. But if you only remembered because Facebook told you, and not because you scheduled a reminder or something, and you felt it was necessary to say something, I would rather you didn't. It makes me think you want people to think you're thoughtful and kind when really it was just bold text on your page that caught your eye.

Except my sister's mom. She can wish me a happy birthday in July if she wants to and I'd be pleased as punch about it cause she's one of most earnest people I know. Her well-wishings just make me think... she wishes me well. For Christmas one year, she got me a coat and scarf. It was a great coat too, which I still have even though it no longer fits cause I got chubby. (And fabulous!)

My mom made me a cake. It was, and still is, delicious. The other half of it is in my fridge and keep refraining from eating the entire thing. It's a struggle. She also hosted a taco night for me and I got to see friends who I rarely ever see. It was pretty exciting times guys.

I'm focusing on my birthday cause it's in a few days (obviously) and when I thought about it a few months ago it really brought me down. I was in that state of mind where it felt like everyone I knew was doing these great things, and reaching the goals you're supposed to reach when you become an adult. Not immediately when you become an adult, but at least before you're thirty because the stigma seems to be that after thirty if you haven't accomplished certain things than you're a loser or you lack motivation and drive, you have no ambition, blah blah blah.

At 8:37 Thursday morning I will officially turn a quarter of a century old.

I'm incredibly excited about it. I have no idea what's been happening lately with me mentally but this is the same event that made me devastated about the state of my life when I thought about it not even six months ago. Yet somehow, when I've considered it more recently, I am genuinely happy about it.

I thought by now I would have a better car, a better home (maybe be on the way to owning that home), be pregnant (if I didn't already have at least one tiny baby), have money saved so that when I had to take maternity leave we wouldn't be in the shit house, have a matching set of pots and pans (still a thing I hope to have one day... :le sigh:), have finally received an acceptance letter from an agent/editor/publishing house... I thought I would have done more by now.

Of the things that I have accomplished, which is absolutely not any of the above, I manage to look at my life and think how great it is. I know that where I am now isn't where I'll be in five years, or even next year. Twenty-five is exciting instead of terrifying because I say it is.

I have an amazing best friend, an amazing dog, a shabby apartment that people always seem to think is 'cute', I have a pretty great job (even though the people are disgusting), I write as often I can, I read as often as I can, every once in awhile I get in touch with people I haven't spoken to or seen in a long time and it doesn't seem like it's been that long, my family is insane but I guess I love them anyway, my Jeep is a piece of crap but Jeremy and I make jokes about it and it's not so bad afterward- what I'm driving at here is that there isn't an obvious amount of terrific going on in my life. And the operative word is 'obvious.' (Because it seems pretty terrific to me right now.)

Unrelated (Related) Things

I was talking to mom today about my new daily affirmations, and it occurred to me that I didn't remember if I talked about them with you yet. Everyday something happens to affirm that I am correct in hating everyone. That's basically it. At least once I day, instead of getting angry that people make me angry, I say to myself 'there's the reason I hate everyone' and I feel a little less angry. Yesterdays affirmation, for example, happened when I was turning left onto a road with a business entrance about 20-some feet from the corner and some idiot decided he could swing on in there in front of me. I ended up having to slam on my brakes and swerve into the lane next to me, where fortunately there was no other car, to avoid hitting him. In situations like that, I'm not sure why I never lay on the horn, but I don't. I slam my hand against the wheel in rage while I yell incoherent curses at the individual in question, but I just never hit the horn. Afterward, I always feel like I would've felt better if I had, but I never remember to. Ever. I started the affirmations as a joke, in my rage, but I honestly do feel better when they occur. If the human race is good at one thing, it's proving time and time again that we're all a bunch of assholes with no consideration for anyone else.

I wanted to share a picture with you. It's of my keychain. I felt it was important that you see it.

So, what you're looking at is a mess of items. A Walgreens discount thingy, a fob for the door at work, some keys, there's a Power Up card for Gamestop which I've never used because I buy games for Jeremy online, but what I want you to pay attention to are three items in particular. The silver shiny item splayed out to the right there, the red pendant with a weird feathery looking creature, and a superhero in need of a serious paint job. These are the items that will best define me and yes, they are seriously hanging out on my keychain. I keep them there because it feels like the place they'll be closest to me, and not because if anything happens to me and the authorities find only my keys (for some reason) they'll be able to discern my character from them and then determine what happened to me from there and how I would've responded in whatever situation I managed to find myself in. (Kidding, that's totally what they're there for. So, pay attention in case I go missing but leave my keys.)

The shiny silver item is a multi-tool. It opens up to a tiny set of pliers, a flat tip screwdriver, and a cross tip screwdriver. The superhero is Batman, and he very much needs painted, but then he's been around since the early 00's. The red pendant is a phoenix.

I believe in a lot of things, but there are four things in particular that I believe in above most others.

• Love ('above all else, I believe in love')
• Always being prepared
• Ordinary people being heroes
• Living forever

I am an idealist, a romantic, a cynic, a realist, and many other things that seem to contradict one another. They do not. They are just parts of my character. The whole of which, is me. Super awesome and terrible at the same time.

I'm telling you this because I don't want you to think that I sincerely believe the human race is only good at proving that it's selfish and uncaring. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don't. And sometimes, when people are driving like idiots and being reckless with their own lives and the lives of others around them just because they can, I sincerely hope they get in an accident and break both of their legs. (That's the rage talking.)

Work-Related Musings

The days when I'm trying to find ways to fill time are the worst. I'm not accustomed to down time at work. My previous experience has been that of 'if you have time to lean, you have to clean.' (Thanks, McDonald's) All this trying to look busy nonsense is driving me nuts. I keep stressing out. My conditioning and work ethic are not inclined to this atmosphere.

Tasks I found myself doing yesterday and today to fill time:

• wiped down my area of the countertop (twice)
• emptied out the pencil sharpener
• sharpened pencils (in that order)
• organized the little desk caddy next to the computer (with pens and paperclips and an obscene amount of rubber bands), then I found more rubber bands in the bottom of the pen holder portion that were black with ink (which was gross and neat)
• walked to the interior bookdrop upwards of 20 times to see if any books had come in since I last checked
• made a rubber band ball

Pretty sure when the clerks are on desk and there aren't any patrons, they're either compulsively checking their emails or they're looking up records. Like, of books. That's what it always looks like they're doing. Refreshing their email or looking at records. Personally, to look busy, sometimes I'm just looking at my own record. 'Oh yes, I do still have the same items checked out as when I looked five minutes ago.' I do it cause I forgot my email password. I'd ask someone what it's supposed to be but I don't want to look stupid. So I just check it home, where my browser kindly asked if I wanted the password saved. I should not have said yes. Apparently we're changing servers so I may have to address the issue soon.

Found a rusted and horrific looking X-acto  knife mixed in with the pens where the money is counted. I guess it gets rough in that area of the 'behind the front desk.'

A boy scout troop had a meeting the other night. They played a DVD. There was applause. I wonder what the merit badge for 'watched a DVD in a group setting' looks like.

Apparently, after six, it's totally cool to just straight up read a book while on desk. I can't tell if this place is amazing or just gives no fucks.

The Time is Now 10:59 am

During my 4-hour shift yesterday, I discovered all the things I hate about the job. Fortunately, it all boils down to two things: the patrons, for obvious reasons, and the employees. God in heaven, I hate my fellow employees. Not all of them, obviously, I'm not that hateful (I probably am) but a very large majority of them. I thought maybe there were tasks I didn't like (inaccurate, I love all the tasks), but it turns out I don't like being told to do them as if I weren't intelligent enough to figure them out on my own. 

I can see that items need checked in. I will check in the items. I do not need to be told to check in the items.

I'm searching for a patron. I've been here five weeks. I'm fairly certain that in that time, I've searched for a patron at least one goddamn time (I've searched for patrons countless times in fact. Literally, I've lost track of how often I have had to search for any patron.). I know the command for it. So when I bring up to my supervisor that the record is blah blah blah, I do not need to be reminded how to properly search. What I need is to be told why the record is blah blah blah. But thank you for assuming that in five weeks, I haven't managed to glean the simplest of tasks.

I ask if there is a specific location for new items when taking them off the truck, before they are moved out to the front desk. As in, 'should these items have their own cart before I take them out to the front desk, or can I just stack them with these items?' The answer, for some reason, is an incredibly drawn out and completely unnecessary diatribe on how the person I asked clears off the truck, which includes a lot of laughing at, what I guess are, her own jokes, and has countless 'does that make sense's thrown in. No. It does not make sense. What would make sense is answering my question. My question, to be clear, was not 'could you please explain to me your method of moving items from one location to the next as though I am an absolute idiot?' 

(I still don't know if the new items are supposed to be on a separate cart before they go out, so I just do it my way and ignore the consult of whomever happens to remark on it.)

I am corrected by multiple people, multiple times, when I do a task incorrectly. (I think that's the meaning of life though. To be corrected numerous times for the same error even though you've only done it once and you've already learned from, and/or corrected, the mistake.)

There are other people with odd names. Those people do not get stupid as hell jokes made about their name. Which I cannot fathom. One woman is named Rain, you guys. How does Storm merit jokes, but Rain does not? I have never considered going by a different name more than I have in the last two years. (But I'm stubborn, and my name is badass.)

Basically what it comes down with the employees is that everyone assumes I'm an idiot. That alone would be aggravating enough but considering how intelligent I am, (I'm super smart, guys, but you already know that) it makes me hate them. It makes me hate them in ways that blind me with rage. It makes me conscious of everything they do, and how they're doing it incorrectly, and how long it takes them to comprehend they're inaccuracies. It makes me vigilant. I see their mistakes and I think to myself, 'Storm, you could help. You could make them better.' And then I squash that thought because why would I want to help my enemies? I mean, really. It's not like I'll ever move up the ladder before they do, because that isn't how unions work. Instead, I see their mistakes and I think to myself, 'oh god really? Who let's you out in the world?' and it makes me happy.

I'm a bad person.

I Was On the News (Briefly)

A week or two ago at work a local news crew was in filming for some local highlights kind of thing, various action shots with commentary, a little talking to patrons and some employees, that sort of thing. Anyway, I'm in it, checking out DVD's to a patron. It actually aired, which I wasn't aware of, but it was emailed to everyone and while at work a few of the ladies saw it and started making movie star jokes and I had no idea what was going on. Then they explained it, and now I'm concerned that that joke isn't going to go away. Here's a link for the clip. I'm somewhere around 3:25, it's really short but I wanted everyone to see it, cause my hair looks cute.

Also happening at work, a new tech advance that a whole bunch of people are against cause they fear change. I'm excited about it, which makes those people hate me, which is an awesome impression to make. The other day I saw my friends mom at work. It was awkward, but then it always is when I interact with other humans.

Nothing new is happening in my life. And I just thought you'd like to know that. Although I did find the battery charger for the digital camera, so... that's kinda cool.

Honesty You Never Asked For

I once sent a guy an indecent grainy cell phone picture of my rear end. So, that's out there somewhere.

I Facebooked stalked this one dude for like, a year and a half. When I saw that he had broken up with his girlfriend, I sent him a message saying I was sorry to hear about it, or some stupid shit like that. This same guy I once included in a group message about a weird-ass dream I had. The dream part was true, he had been in it, as well as a bunch of other people who were also included in the message.There was no earthly reason that he needed to know that. I did it because I knew someone else would reply to it, and that it would keep popping up in his inbox, so he would be reminded of me. Like a psychopath.

A few weeks ago Jeremy had a couple friends over for drinks. They ended up crashing and in the morning when I was shuffling about in the kitchen and they were getting ready to leave, we exchanged goodbyes. I never offered them coffee or anything and I still feel shitty about it. I should have been more hospitable. I spent a good deal of time afterward wondering if they thought I was an asshole.

For some reason, in a conversation once about swearing I told someone I didn't swear. I was joking, they took it seriously, and I never corrected them. I have no idea why. How hard would it have been to be like, 'oh that was a just a bad joke, I swear all the time.' Which is true, I do swear a lot. It's not even a funny joke. Who jokes about not swearing to be funny? Apparently, me. I also may have said that it was against my religion, but I honestly don't remember. It seems like something I would say.

I once printed out a fanfic about NSYNC that some girl posted on an angelfire webpage, the entire fucking thing, and crossed out every instance of this one characters name and wrote mine in over it because the character got together with JC. The entire, fucking, thing I did this to. There were over twenty chapters. Thirteen year old me was apparently effin' wacky.

Also when I was thirteen (and fourteen, it continued through) I thought it would be super cool to be in a girl group. So I started writing some really dreadful songs, just lyrics of course because I have no idea how to write music. Then I showed some of them to my best friend at the time and I was like, 'we should be in a girl group' to which she replied 'yeah sure.' Then we added two other friends for whatever reason and we would hang out at each other's houses and sing along to songs and decide who would sing what parts and all that crap. We got hooked on the Moulin Rouge theme song and each took a vocalists part, and I decided that I was good enough to sing Christina's part, and to my friends everlasting credit, they never corrected me. The next summer we kicked out one of the members but still wanted to hang out with her, so we wrote her a letter explaining everything. Apparently she took it hard cause her mom actually yelled at me for it.

All through my teen years, and yes sometimes now, one of the greatest joys in my life was turning my music up really loud, turning off the lights, and dancing like a weirdo in the dark of my bedroom. Sometimes in the summer I would get pissed off because it was daylight so long and I just wanted to effin' dance but I was scared that if the lights were on that somehow everyone would see and they would judge me. I tried closing the curtains but it would still be too bright and I would have to wait. I'd stay up at all hours of the night playing my crappy music, pretending I looked cool. I know now like I knew then that I looked like a damn fool.

I wished I still danced like a weirdo. I mean I do, obviously, still dance like a weirdo, but I wish I did it more. Or at all really.

Sometimes I use words incorrectly but the person I'm speaking to doesn't know it, so I'll make up a definition to suit my purposes and just hope that they never interact with someone else who uses that word properly. Other times I will use a word improperly and someone will call me out on it, and I'll make up some utter lie about having heard someone else use it in that context so that the imaginary person seems like the idiot. I'll even say things like, 'see that's what I thought it meant, but I heard Sheila at work use in this context so I thought I had been using it wrong.' There is no Sheila at work, she did not use the word in any context, there was no context, I am just a goddamn idiot and I really do not want you to know that.

I was sick on my wedding day, no idea with what, but I had been coughing like crazy all day before and a little in the morning. At dinner I bit into a pepper and it agitated the hell out of my throat apparently because I immediately started coughing so hard that I actually threw up a little into my napkin. At the table. Everyone kept asking if I needed to leave but I kept shaking my head and coughing into my napkin. Then I vomited a little and finally decided that I should excuse myself. I'm not sure how many people know about that, but I know my one brother does. A few seats away, just after it happened, I heard him say, 'yeah that's vomit.' That fucking napkin stayed on the table until we left, balled up all disgusting and shameful. (Side note, while writing that I made myself laugh so hard. So I hope you also found it amusing.)

Alright, that's all I've got for now. There is plenty more though, I'm a disastrous human being.