Thursday, July 30, 2015



"So the girl who cashed me out at the grocery store says to me, 'Hey did you go to Noble High School?' And when I said yes she said 'I thought so. I think you graduated a couple of years before me.... I'm thirty-eight.' But she was wearing a name tag that said Victoria so I was pretty sure that she didn't mean she was, like, a Borg."


"She's angry. Like, um ... something that is super angry."

"Like a badger?"

"Do badgers want to eat people's faces? Because I think she wants to eat my face."

"They sure do. It's like that old expression: angry as a face eating badger."


"I'm going to stop on the way home. And buy a bottle of wine that doesn't have a screw top."

"... you're an animal."


"It sucks that I have to be awake during the parts of my life that I don't enjoy and asleep when I'm where I most want to be."

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Wait. What?

"What do you want to be doing? I'd like to help you figure it out."

"Oh. Huh. You know ... I don't know."

It's true. I have a leaning and an inkling as to what I want to do. An ish, if you will. I have things I'm interested-ish in. But when people ask me what my passion is?

Um. I like to blog. That makes me happy. Creating small pieces. I keep trying to write a novel but I honestly don't know if I have one in me. I have little snippety bits in me and not, like, character development.

I like to give advice, but it might be shitty advice. I think it's good, but of course I would -- the ideas I'm dispensing are my ideas.

I like to clean things up and organize them. But people don't necessarily love it when you reorganize their stuff. Mostly I like to clean my stuff, anyway; this is likely because none of my stuff is ever that dirty.

Please note that none of the above could be described as career paths. They're just a conglomeration of things. It's like the world's most random list.

This should probably make me sad, but it kind of doesn't -- not having a set path means that the world is fully of possibility, and that I can take the time to carefully consider all of my options.

I realized today that one of the worst things I could do right now is make a hasty, ship-jumping decision. Not loving where you are in life is hardly the most harmful, dreadful thing that ever happened to a person.

It's like this: I know how to do what I'm doing. There's value in that. I am also learning some things about myself, obviously -- how I want to be treated. How to treat other people. How to let things roll off of me instead of exploding into a giant green stress monster. (Okay. I'm still working on that last bit.)

Zooming right from this thing that doesn't make me super happy into something else that isn't the right fit would be a mistake, because it would mean that I didn't take the time to really consider what I want. I just made the leap into the next thing. I've done this before, and it's not worked out so well (after all, there's a reason I ended up here, hello); this time? If I'm going to make a change I want it to be thoughtful.

I'd like to be more thoughtful, period.

So. I will wait.

I will ask myself what: what do you want? What would make you happy? What do you need?

I think the answers will come.

Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Respectfully Yours

If you've been following along lately (and if you have, Bless You! I know that I'm a bit dreary of late), you know that I am experiencing some ... shall we say ... strife.

After a lot of obsessing reflection, I have uncovered the real root of the issue, which is this: someone didn't respect me enough to be honest with me.

This troubles me, as you can probably imagine.

As a result, I've made one of my local objectives (you know, the little changes) to be straight with people. I will try to be kind (I am a little too blunt sometimes; I'm working on that), but it's important to me to be open and truthful with people so that they know I think enough of them to be straight and candid with them.

This can cause situations, though. Like today, when someone told me that he understands how something I've been immersed in works and I had to tell him -- respectfully -- that I don't think he does, and then tell him the pieces that I needed him to understand.  I'm pretty sure that he didn't want to have that conversation --in fact, I know that he didn't -- but I'm also certain that is was vital that he see all of the pieces and why it wasn't enough to say that he understood.

He really needed to understand it, just like he really needed me to hear and understand him. I needed to respect him -- and be respected enough in turn -- to have that conversation.

It's not enough otherwise. I've had to learn that the hard way, but I get it now.

Monday, July 27, 2015

Global vs Local

I have spent every day for the last week in a constant state of anxiety. It feels like there's an elephant standing on my chest for at least eight hours of every day. If you've ever had the "help! there is an elephant standing on me!" sensation, then you know that it's one of the more unpleasant ways to pass the time.

And yet there I am.

I get yelled at a lot in the course of my day, and told I'm stupid. And a moron. And incompetent. Oh, and there's my favorite, which was "maybe if you'd gone to college you wouldn't be stuck in this job" by an angry person who apparently thinks it's okay to make judgement calls about people he can't see and knows nothing about while he's quite literally screaming at ...well, me ... for something that is literally both unavoidable and not my fault (but due to my university education I was able to think of several fancy adjectives to apply to his behavior, so that's something. Maybe).

I know that I have said recently that I need to evaluate where I'm living my life and finding my joy. That remains true. Unfortunately, what is also true is that while I'm perfectly happy finding my joy elsewhere and defining myself through other aspects of who I am?

I'm not okay with abject misery and abuse for the other hours of my day.

The reality of the situation, however, is that this is not something I can change right this minute, or tomorrow, or in the very near future. It's not possible to make wholesale change at this moment.

It's important, though, to realize that wholesale change might not be possible but small scale changes are ALWAYS possible. It's the life version of thinking globally but acting locally; if it's unrealistic to change everything -- and sometimes it is -- then why can't you just change a something? Even a very small something can have a large impact on an otherwise overwhelming situation.

I can't change what I want to right this moment. But I can start the process of change. I can begin to evolve and adapt. For right now, that means: research classes and online opportunities. It does NOT mean dropping everything and going back to school. That's global. Looking up online classes and programs? That's local. Thinking about a timeline for classes? Also local. Local = possibility and potential. Local = doable.

Local = not having to beat yourself up for failing as we so often do when we try to go global without really being prepared -- and let's face it, you have to make the local changes for the global ones to really work. Local = single steps. Global = the whole journey.

By giving myself the permission to make smaller, local changes, I know I am on the way to incredibly necessary global change.

And that makes the elephant step off my chest, if only for a few moments.

Sunday, July 26, 2015


I find that my journey has brought me to a fork in the road. I can continue on my current career path, or I can decide to make a change.

Getting here was difficult and painful -- but then, change frequently is. The tricky bit is remembering while you're yet hurting that a seed doesn't become a flower without strain and effort; your struggles through something are struggles TO something else. While you're in the sweaty, stabby thick of it, though, recalling that you are in the process of becoming who and what you are meant to be is a challenge.

It's also a choice.

I stand here, at this fork, and have decisions to make. There is nothing wrong with staying the course. There's certainly no shame in it. It would be (mostly) stable, and after the last several years, there's something to be said for stability. Choosing to alter my path? Not as secure. Not as stable.

But. Stability does not equal happiness, as we all know.

The question I need to ask myself -- and the question I think we all need to ask when we find ourselves at a crossroads in our path -- is this: how much do I value my happiness? Do I value it enough to take a chance? Do I value myself enough to make a change that, though scary (and we shouldn't discount fear as a motivator or as an impediment), could ultimately make my life better?

I don't know for sure which path I will take, but I'm leaning hard towards the less certain one. I know what is on the path I'm on. It doesn't fill me with joy. I know that for sure, as I know that life is too short for your daily tasks and environment to be ones that don't make you happy.

I will keep you posted.

In the meantime -- just for giggles -- consider your path, and where you are. If you're at a crossroads, which road will you choose? I'm curious!

Thursday, July 23, 2015



"I don't know what to do when you cry. It's freaking me out. So. Um. You gotta stop."

"Sniffle whimper snork okay, I'm sorry."

"Oh Lord, and now you're apologizing for it. You're killing me here!"


"So there was the prosecutor for the county, in a suit..."


"And next to him was a guy in a straw cowboy hat and a shirt that said, 'Sorry, ladies, I'm just here to drink.'"

"So an eclectic crowd, is what you're saying."


"You know what might be the stupidest thing ever? Movie trailers on the radio."

"I know, they're like television commercials for perfume."

"Right? Oh hey, that looks like something I'd want to smell like!"


" Why are you making that face?"

"Which one?"

"The one that says you either want to stab yourself or someone else. Also, if it's the stab someone else face, please say it now so I can move out of range."


"Honestly. I feel like I'm standing on a beach, rubbing two branches together? And there are a bunch of people just offshore, flicking their lighters and saying things like, wow, that looks hard and awww, you'll have fire eventually and we're all in this together and no one will just throw me an effing Bic."

"At least you're at the beach?"

"You're making the stabby face again, but now I know it's directed at me. Gotta go!"

Tuesday, July 21, 2015


A friend of mine, someone I have loved since childhood, is critically injured and in the hospital fighting for his life. Because of that, the frustrations I experienced today seem so petty and stupid.

Hug the people you love. Tell them you love them.

And if you have the chance or inclination, say a prayer for my friend Josh. Say a prayer, and hold on to hope.

That's all I've got right now.

Monday, July 20, 2015

I'm Melting

It's hot right now.

I knew it was going to be hot this morning when I walked out to my car and it was a lot like being smacked in the face with a warm, wet towel. I remember thinking, "Well. This sucks."

Since I refuse to use the AC in my car in the morning (it's a long story) I had the windows open. My hair blew around like mad and kept sticking to my face. It was still hot, and I got out of the car at work grumpy, with stupid hair.

The office was an OVEN. I don't know if they turn the air conditioning off when there's no one there on Sunday or what, but it was so hot that I made a cup of coffee, looked at it, and poured it down the sink because it was 7 AM and I felt sick due to the sweaty sauna-ness of the place.

Have I mentioned that it's hot?

This is how hot it is: as I type, my cat is -- for reasons that I can't even begin to fathom -- attacking the stripes on my skirt. Apparently they offend her.

And I'm just watching her do it because it's too hot to get upset about it. Whatever. Go get 'em Lizzie. Make those stripes PAY.

Maybe tomorrow will be cooler?

I hope.

Friday, July 17, 2015



"I have... A huge crush... On Rachel Maddow."

"Who doesn't?"


"Starting my new job on Monday the 13th."

"That's ... Auspicious."

"If by 'suspicious' you mean 'fucked up' then, yeaaah. Auspicious."


(Dancing around the house with Lizzie, singing along to the radio)

"Well I walk these streets! A tiny tabby on my back! And she plays for keeps! Because I might not give her snacks! We've been everywhere! And she's freaking small! I've seen a million faces! And I've scritched them all!"

"She is concerned about this song you're singing."

"You should probably be as well... Sorry I'm not more normal."


"Looking at someone you once knew well and feeling like they are a stranger is one of the most painful things I can imagine."

"So stop doing it."

"That is strangely good advice."


"Whoa, that whole situation is fucked up."

"I know, but it's a familiar kind of fucked up."

"Are you saying you're okay with it?"

"No, but I am saying that we've hung out before and I get how it works. Things could be worse. It's like, we're not dating? But we've had dinner."

"Your analogies are so weird."

Thursday, July 16, 2015

Twinsies! (or, Not)

I had a sudden epiphany yesterday. While I realize that for me, “sudden epiphany” frequently equals “was slapped in the face with the most blatantly obvious facts that I had been ignoring,” it was powerful nonetheless, and it was simply this:

The person who was causing me so much grief and drama and ugly snorking crying last week? Has been doing it because we’re exactly alike.

Well, that might not be precisely true. For example, I wouldn’t punish someone for acting like me. I wouldn’t model one kind of behavior and expect an entirely different one from other people. I don’t think that I would make someone feel badly and as though they’ve failed for doing exactly the same things I do myself and then CONTINUE TO DO THOSE THINGS until the person I called out began to question her own sanity.

I wouldn’t do that. So maybe we’re not exactly alike.

But we’re alike in a lot of ways. We usually get along incredibly well, so this last – whatever it is – was doubly surprising and hurtful, especially when I realized that we do the same things with the same results, except of course for the part where I am being held out as an example and he continues on his merry way.

I’m thinking that this has been/ is/ will be an opportunity to learn something. But right now, all I keep thinking is: it’s not entirely me. It’s ALSO you. And until you realize that or care about it? None of this will matter. None.

Except as a lesson to me as to how not to behave.

I think I’ve got that one down.

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

The Rules According To Lizzie

1.       The Humans will utilize their thumbs in the procurement of food whenever I request it of them, whether those requests are polite or obnoxious, for I kindly allow them to live here.

2.       I will not use the pokey things at the ends of my paws on their faces … UNLESS they are slow to respond to my needs, in which case – the pokey things will be applied.

3.       All spaces in the house are suitable for napping. Especially the closet.

4.       The closet doors shall not be barred.

5.       If the closet doors are barred, I will have to take drastic measures. UNBAR THE DOORS.

6.       Successful use of the litter box requires an epic and zoom-tastic victory dance. Things may get knocked over.

7.       The Humans should stop putting things where they will get knocked over.

8.       The pigeons outside are our mortal enemies. Windows must be opened so I can keep an eye on them.

9.       The only thing INSIDE the house that is my enemy is my tail. I must stalk it at all times, and in all manner of spaces. Things may get knocked over. Please see rule #7.

10.   Anything brought into the house is for me.

11.   Anything taken out of the house WAS mine and I will look at the Humans with great betrayal when something is removed.

12.   Making the bed is an act of aggression that necessitates the following: stalk the bedding. Jump on the bedding. Bite the bedding.

13.   Books are for sits. Especially if one is open and The Humans are trying to read it, but also when they are on a shelf or neatly stacked.

14.   Everything is for sits.

15.   Cuddling is mandatory until it isn’t. I determine when that changes. You do not. You NEVER will. BWAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH.

16.   Rescue cats are the best. Don’t forget.

Monday, July 13, 2015


When I have the kind of bout of epic bleeecccch that I experienced last week, I try to remember to count my blessings. Counting your blessings is one of those activities that is easy when things are going well and, ahem, difficult when you feel like you're barely treading water in a pool full of sewage.

But as I've begun to climb out of said pool, it occurs to me that I have many blessings to count, and I thought I should take the time to do it and to document it so that when I get pushed back into the muck (and it will happen, it happens to all of us) I can be reminded of all of the good things that walk hand in hand with the bad ones.

  • I have the best Fella, who watched me snork and weep and handed me tissues and gave me hugs and who never, ever made me feel like my problems were not that important. He checked on me, supported me, listened to me, and let me know that I can be alone if I want to be but that I never have to be. Y'all. He's the best.
  • I have family who is super quick to come to my defense and declare that anyone who hurts my feelings is a big stupid jerk and deserving of the nonviolent but irritating curses that are being heaped upon his or her person. 
  • I have the best, kindest friends. THE BEST ONES. I know you probably think your friends are the best but until you get an email where someone actually says, "I'm going to need you to give me X's phone number so I can set her straight about how wrong she is" -- AND MEANS IT? I'm sorry. Mine are the awesomest. 
  • My coworkers are the sweetest and most supportive crew of whack-a-doos ever to fill up a bunch of cubicles. I love them. They make swimming in the poop worth it. 
  • I have a cat who is the funniest, fluffiest little bundle of weird and happy. 
  • I have a roof over my head and food to eat and a bed to sleep in.
In short? My life and heart are full. 

Sometimes I forget. I try not to, but it happens.

However, today? I am counting, and sending out little prayers and thanks for everything I have, and for all of the love that I see and feel every day. It's amazing, you guys. 

Thank you.

Sunday, July 12, 2015



"I have... A huge crush... On Rachel Maddow."

"Who doesn't?"


"Starting my new job on Monday the 13th."

"That's ... Auspicious."

"If by 'suspicious' you mean 'fucked up' then, yeaaah. Auspicious."


(Dancing around the house with Lizzie, singing along to the radio)

"Well I walk these streets! A tiny tabby on my back! And she plays for keeps! Because I might not give her snacks! We've been everywhere! And she's freaking small! I've seen a million faces! And I've scritched them all!"

"She is concerned about this song you're singing."

"You should probably be as well... Sorry I'm not more normal."


"Looking at someone you once knew well and feeling like they are a stranger is one of the most painful things I can imagine."

"So stop doing it."

"That is strangely good advice."


"Whoa, that whole situation is fucked up."

"I know, but it's a familiar kind of fucked up."

"Are you saying you're okay with it?"

"No, but I am saying that we've hung out before and I get how it works. Things could be worse. It's like, we're not dating? But we've had dinner."

"Your analogies are so weird."

Friday, July 10, 2015

Where Do You Live?

Recently, something happened at work that left me both shaken and grief-stricken to the point that I was not able to function effectively. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't let it go, I couldn't get past it. It made me question what I believe about myself and what I believe about other people. It made me question my ability to trust people and the choices I make.

I'm still questioning the trust part a little.

But when I found myself waking up at three AM, sobbing, I realized that I had to do something. Actually, two somethings.

One: I had to address the situation that was causing this. 

Two: I needed to reassess where I am living. I don't mean where the Fella and I physically live -- as I've mentioned, I love our tiny little hobbit hole. No, I need to reassess where I place my life's value. Should a problem at work cause this level of incapacitating depression? Should I literally wake up sobbing because I am frustrated at work?

I don't think so.  I don't think that work should be where I am living my life, or where I find my personal worth.

It's hard for me to separate the two; I have the kind of personality that can only be described as driven to succeed. Succeeding at things, and being the best at them, is what I'm preprogrammed to do. If I'm not actively competing, then I must be asleep, and since I don't really play sports? Work is where I do that.

(In addition, I worked from home for all of that time so work and life became inextricably linked. They were the same. It's not the healthiest situation, as anyone who works from home on a daily basis would probably tell you.)

It's exhausting, though. It's always been exhausting, because you can never really relax or breathe, and the minute something goes wrong, you lose your sense of who you are.

Hence the heartbreak.

I am working very, very hard to let go. Not of wanting to do well -- I will always be a person who wants to do well -- but of placing all of the value of my life in the basket of success; I have so many other places to put that value. I can put it here. I can put it in my life with The Fella and the Wee One. I can put it in my relationship with my family and my friends.

And I should. That's where the value in life belongs. That's where I should live. That's where the value in life really is: in the bonds we forge with each other.

I'm working on it. I'll keep working on it. As for work, well, I'll keep working on that too -- but it's not my life's work, if that makes sense.

I think it does.

Thursday, July 9, 2015

Mooooving Along

I have been told that a cow wandering through a grassy field will stop short if it reaches a fence and just stand there. Even if the fence is only four feet wide and could easily be walked around. The cow, it is said, doesn’t have the depth of reasoning to consider that it could back up and proceed its wanderings on the either side of the fence. It doesn’t perceive the possibilities; it only sees the obstacle.

I don’t know if this is actually true, by the way.

I do know that this is true: I have been seeing obstacles and have been standing in front of them. Sometimes I kick them. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I just stare. Cow-like, I have been stuck in one spot, my forward motion halted.

It occurred to me today that, unlike a cow, I have other options to consider.

I can back up.

I can go around.

Hell, I might even be able to jump over.

Or – and this is also a possibility – I can stand with this obstacle for a while and simply rest. An obstacle can be nice to sit on. There’s nothing wrong with taking some time out from your travels to regroup and nap.


Thanks for putting up with me while I try to figure this one out. I’ll keep you posted as to how it goes.  

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

The Problem With Depression

When I was first diagnosed, I was in bad shape. My doctor wasn't quite sure which way to go with me. "I don't know if you're anxious because you're depressed or if you're depressed because you're anxious," she said, "but we need to try to alleviate both of those for you."

It turned out to be a chicken-or-egg argument. I can't remember a time when I felt like I belonged anywhere, ever. I have spent my entire life feeling like an imposter, waiting to be called out as a fake, everywhere I've gone -- which includes family holiday gatherings and elementary school field trips and college and jobs and everywhere. As a result, I mostly fake it until I make it, but doing so is exhausting and contributes to my anxiety.

For the record, I also don't remember a time in my life when I haven't had anxiety attacks; for years, though, I didn't know what they were. I thought they were low-grade asthma attacks that my inhaler wouldn't touch -- a situation which made me more anxious because why wasn't my medicine working, agh, help, what is going on?

It's not comfortable to live in my head, is what I'm trying to say. It never has been. 

As a result, I second-guess my reactions to things. I wonder if I'm reacting like a normal person or if I'm filtering through the skewed, lying filter of depression and anxiety and making things worse than they are.  That's the worst thing about my flawed brain chemistry, you see: I can't always trust that how I feel about something is valid. When your brain tells you on the regular that your family doesn't love you, that you're stupid, that you're ugly, that you're dumb and worthless, that you're a joke ... Even when you know it's not true, it feels true. And when all of that feels true, how can you separate what is true from what is misfiring synapses?

It's hard.

I hate talking about this. I hate it. But I'm talking about it now because mostly we don't talk about it. I'm talking about it because I'm having a hard time this week and I want anyone else who feels this way, anyone else who feels unloved and alone and afraid because of faulty chemical reactions to know that you are not the only one. None of us are. And also? You are not ugly, or stupid, or worthless, or a joke, or unloved.  

I am learning, slowly, to acknowledge how I feel, to name it, and then to do what I need to in order to release it so that I am not stuck in that endless loop of fear -- sorrow -- fight -- flight-- exhaustion -- fear-- sorrow, until I am unable to function.

There are a lot of avenues to breaking that loop. I am finding the ones that work for me. If you get stuck there, you'll find yours. Ask for help. Let people help you. 

And remember at depression will lie. Don't forget. You are more than brain chemistry. You are beauty and vivaciousness and intelligence and you have so much worth.

So much.

Monday, July 6, 2015

Dealing With It

There are things that are not going spectacularly well at the moment.

Part of me thinks that's okay. This is the more enlightened part of my brain, the part that really and truly believes in the lesson and the journey and is saying encouraging things like, this is teaching you how to be a better human being and you are really discovering where you live... Where you do your real living... Right now. Right in this moment! and this is such an opportunity for you to grow as a person!

Thise are all true and accurate things.

Another part of me thinks the previously mentioned part is an unrealistic asshole and that I should clearly eat a pint of Ben and Jerry's so as to distract myself from feeling things and then take about one hundred and seven naps.

Things are okay. They will be okay. There is just a thing that is going backwards when I want it to go forwards and I'm frustrated and depressed and anxious and I'm letting it eat up my waking hours and devour my sleeping ones. I'm being hard to live with because I have this giant bag of unhappy, don't know what to do that I am lugging around with me.

I guess I have to be patient and open and willing to talk and willing to listen. I need to let The Fella help me. I need to accept hugs and open ears and open my own heart a little more.

It's just hard.

Sunday, July 5, 2015


There are friendships that happen all of a sudden. One moment you're driving along alone, singing with the radio all by yourself, and the next you have a partner in crime riding shotgun. It's not planned. You didn't intend to pick up a buddy. It just happens.

Sometimes, just as rapidly, your co-conspirator finds that this ride, in this car, doesn't work anymore. The periods between songs are filled with tense silence.

You try. You try to fill the uncomfortable quiet with stories and "remember that time" and "what if we" but the truth is that while you're talking, your friend is looking at a phone or a map and thinking of the places that might be more enjoyable; she's telling you that you're going the wrong way, reminding you that you're a terrible driver and need to make different, better, friend approved choices. Like the ones she would make if only control of the wheel belonged to her.

That's when you realize that you do have a choice, but it's not the one that your friend means. Your choice is to keep talking and trying and hoping that something will change and things will go back to being the way they were, or you can stop at a convenience store and fill a bag with things you think she's going to need and then let her go with some grace.

Because the truth is that she's not always right and you're not always wrong. The truth is that it's not that either of you didn't try as hard as you knew how, you were just trying in different directions. She stopped understanding why you always drive exactly five miles over the speed limit and you stopped being okay with the way that she fussed with the radio.

The truth is that letting someone go doesn't negate the good times you had. It doesn't take away from what your friendship was. Letting someone go -- with grace, with kindness -- preserves those times and keeps harshness and bitterness from destroying everything.

So you pull over.

Your friend reaches for the door.

And you let her go.

Friday, July 3, 2015


"He said I'm like Joy in that new animated movie."

"...he thinks you're happy!"

"No. He thinks I'm manic. And sarcastic."

"Which sometimes masquerades as happy!"


"I don't think we're friends anymore.,She got tired of the fact that I never did what she said."


"And? I got tired of being told what to do."

"No one puts Yellie in a corner!"



"Wizzerbizzer... If she were a superhero she'd be The Wizzer."


"It would confuse people. Like, 'Did you just say you're The Wizard?'"

Together, slowly: "Um, noooooo."


"Really the secret to a successful relationship is just to find someone who's weird lines up with yours. After that it's all good."


"That's a different can of worms."

"Okay. Um, why are we putting worms in cans again?"

"Because. Duh."



"They're so sweet they make my teeth hurt. That's why I can't eat them. Like, um, oh! Cadbury Creme Eggs!"

"Blearrgh no! Gak! I hate those!"

"Seriously, you have no idea how much I love you just for that."


"He keeps saying I remind him of the blue haired fairy in the Sparkle commercials."

"Let's think about this: slightly manic? Unusual hair shade? Obsession with cleaning?"


"Yes, the comparison mystifies me as well. Doofus."


"And that's when I realized that maybe he was being a dick because, well, he is a dick."

"So the dickery wasn't aimed at you, specifically."

"Right! He just suffers from general and pervasive assholery!"


"I need to return this product."

"And the reason would be?"

"It makes me sad."

"Excuse me?"

"Looking at it makes me sad."

"So there's nothing ... Um ... Wrong with it?"


"Ooooookkkkaaaaayyyyy... I ... Um. Feeling sad upon observation of item isn't a reason I can accept a return. But, uh, I hope you feel better soon?"

"Ooooooh! Pretty dress is pretty!"

"It's purple."

"So pretty!"

"You only wear black, white, and grey, unless we're talking Chucks."

"Pre-- oh. Yeah, that's true. I would never ever wear that."

"You could try it if you wanted. You clearly like it."

"Maybe I could just get some purple socks and see how that goes."

"Baby steps."

"Purple ones."

Thursday, July 2, 2015

Fight, Part Two

So here’s what happened.

1.       I managed to keep my cool. (translation: though emotional, I did not cry. VICTORY)

2.       I stated my case well.

3.       I was able to get the person with whom I was speaking to understand my point of view.

What will the outcome be? I don’t know, exactly. It’s too soon to tell.

Here’s what I do know:

It’s easier for me to advocate for and stick up for others than it is for me to do it for myself. I will be FIERCE on behalf of other people and silent on my own behalf.

That needs to stop. I mean, I guess it did stop, sorta, but it needs to continue to stay stopped.  You can’t count on other people to recognize what’s important to you if you don’t talk about it. You can’t expect anyone to swoop in and save your day if you’re not at least making an effort to save it yourself.

I don’t know if I saved the day, but I know I didn’t NOT save it.

That’s something.

Wednesday, July 1, 2015


I have to have an unpleasant conversation today. I was up all night thinking about what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it, and convincing myself of how important it was that this happen.

As I drove into work I could feel my resolve slipping away.

I don’t know why it’s so difficult for me to advocate for myself. You can’t expect someone else to announce your awesomeness to the room as you enter it, like some kind of herald. (Although that would be the coolest: “And now entering: Her Yellieness, the Magnificent!”)

The first person who stands up for you needs to be you.

It’s just so stupidly hard.