...I told y'all I wasn't going to blog every day!!
The other day while wasting WAY too much of my work day perusing Pinterest, I came across the following quote:
"Sometime we expect more from others because we would be willing to do that much for them."
It hit me. It hit me like a ton of bricks. It has manifested itself in so many aspects of my life lately. I've been trying to devote more of my time to introspection and I find myself reciting this quote in my head over and over.
I think a lot of character traits are dual-hatted -- that is, both a blessing and a curse. One of my most prominent traits is that I am emotion-driven. I feel things to the core. I also have very high expectations for myself in my personal and professional life. Unfortunately, because I set the bar so high for myself I'm often setting it high for everyone around me as well. I expect things of them that I expect from myself. How often am I exceeding my own expectations? Very rarely. And, the same is true for others. The result is disappointment all around me and for someone who so often succumbs to her own emotions I get stuck in the disappointment. I think one of my major goals in the new year is to set realistic expectations based on history and personal behavior for myself and others.
I know that for me it will mean adjusting my expectations of coworkers in the workplace and compartmentalizing a number of relationships in my personal life. I know I'm not going to wake up one day and be able to think more clearly and "run" my life based more on logic and thought than on emotions. And, I don't want to change that about myself because it's not worth giving up the feelings of the high highs to avoid the low lows. I accept that I'll continue the ride on my emotional roller coaster of a life, but, as best I can I plan to lay the tracks in the direction of positive thoughts and feelings. It surely won't be easy but I'm looking forward to a more positive outlook...to celebrating and appreciating successes and victories instead of narrowing in on things that just don't measure up.
How about all of you? Do you struggle with aspects of your personality? Any "new year, new you" resolutions?
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Two posts in one day? This is unheard of. No really. It won't happen again.
Every so often I come up with new ideas. They might be apps for the iPhone, ideas about starting a new company, or product ideas. This specific idea popped into my head 10 minutes ago after leaving the gym. I haven't spent much time thinking up names but for now I have the La-Z-Boy Spin Bike.
Let's be honest, there is NO need for the spin bikes at the gym to be SO freaking uncomfortable. We don't need the 6"x3" piece of hard plastic between our legs for aerodynamics. WE AREN'T ACTUALLY FREAKING MOVING. I am not Lance Armstrong. Neither are you. This is not the Tour de France. It's a dark sweat-filled room with bikes that figuratively attack your baby maker as your muscles burn to Katy Perry's "Last Friday Night". This is beginning to sound way too similar to the upstairs of most frat houses...sans bikes.
On to comfort. Why can't they make the bikes with larger cushioned seats? I might be able to cycle for 90 minutes if that were the case. Please don't get started on the "...but they have those gel cushions that go over the seats" or "real cyclists have padded cycle shorts". Real cyclists have bikes. I have a $40/month membership to Gold's and after a tough workout I'd rather not be thinking about how I can't decide whether I'd rather have a nasty case of syphilis or the ever-worsening burning of my hot pocket every single step I take. If I can't sit down to pee tomorrow I'm quitting my job and filing a patent. CAN I GET AN AMEN?!
Online dating is awkward. First dates are uncomfortable. 2 hour first dates that start at 5:30 p.m. where 75% of the duration of the date is spent trying to figure out what cartoon character your date sounds like are excruciating. Let me back up...
I decided that since no man was appearing in my cubicle at work or at my front door when I'm sitting pantsless on the couch drinking red wine and eating half a block of cheese I should make an attempt to "get out there and date". The bar scene is tough because I already think I'm hard of hearing and trying to talk over loud music and 397 other conversations going on at the bar is near impossible for me. Not to mention, I act like I'm 47 and bars aren't exactly packed with guys my age at 8:30 p.m. I figured I'd give internet dating a try. I was on and off of match for a couple years. Maybe I'll delve into that later. Since I was getting older I figured I'd lower my standards and try a free site...OKCupid. My fear with free sites always stemmed from the fact that any unemployed SOB could set up a profile. If it was a pay site he had to have a job or at least be good at conning people or panhandling for money. I set up my profile...and I was honest. I'm not a girly girl. I like sports. I'm smart. You should be too.
Enter Bill. Bill and I email over the span of a week and he's totally normal. In fact, he's better than normal. He has a job. He goes to church. As a dog owner he has the ability to keep another living thing alive. Aside from his average looks, Bill is Mr. Perfect to someone with low-average standards. He asks to take me out and I'm quick to say yes. Free booze? I'm in. He could send the dog as his proxy and if it came with a credit card and free booze I'd date the dog.
His plan quickly morphed from drinks to dinner. Ladies, DO NOT GO TO DINNER ON A BLIND DATE. It's a long period of time in which you have to make conversation, leave at least some semblance of food on your plate, not talk with your mouth full, and try to appear more interested in the conversation than your mouth-watering, delicious, holy-shit-this-rigatoni-dish-is-more-of-a-turn-on-than-seeing-Alexander-Skarsgard-as-Vampire-Eric-Northman-in-True-Blood-naked-in-front-of-me dinner. The date went as follows:
5:30 - Cursing drivers in Clarendon for being douchetards and taking up 2 parking spots with their stupid sports car.
5:35 - Arrive in front of Faccia Luna to see Bill holding 8 red roses with baby's breath for me. Bill makes eye contact for the first time.
5:35:30 - Vomit in my mouth.
5:35-5:45 - Awkward conversations with the hostess and waitress about my flowers that are now squished into the booth next to me trying to remain out of sight.
5:45 - Begin the hour of listening to Bill talk about software coding (in WAAAAAAAY too much detail), how he used to be the stock boy at Target, how a truck driver was killed on I-66, and dirty hippies (the only part of the conversation I was interested in).
6:00 - I catch Bill talking to my tits.
6:15 - I stab myself with a fork to make sure I haven't slipped into a coma.
6:30 - Rigatoni-induced orgasm.
6:45 - Bill pays for dinner, our plates are cleared, and I'm out of wine.
6:50 - Bill goes to the restroom.
6:52 - Bill returns from the restroom and makes eye contact for the second time.
6:55 - I exclaim that the restaurant is getting noisier and busier and I don't want to hold up a table. Bill looks to the front and tells me there is no line. Attempt to leave #1 thwarted.
7:00 - I bring up his dog, Bacon, and how he should probably head home to feed him and take him out to pee, assuming after 12 hours of being left alone Bacon hasn't already emptied the pantry and relieved himself over every square foot of the condo.
7:01 - Bill responds to the comment. I, with a lack of animal knowledge and a medium amount of autism knowledge from watching NBC's "Parenthood", decide he's on the low end of the animal abuser and autism spectra. Attempt to leave #2 failed.
7:10 - Having shown minimal interest in Bacon, Bill obviously asks the question: "So I take it you like dogs and hate terrorists?"
7:10:15 - My first thought: "...................................................................................."
7:10:30 - My second thought: "I also like vampires and hate gynecologists". Seriously??? One of these things is NOT like the other.
7:10:45 - My response: "I guessss you could say that"
7:11 - Bill tells me a graphic and detailed story about a group of dog hating terrorists that his twin brother watched blow up via a drone strike. In this story I learned about the rulings that came out of the Geneva Convention regarding missiles and that the dog that the terrorists hated lived...and was left to roam among terrorist body parts.
7:25 - I loved that rigatoni so much I almost "enjoyed" it a second time.
7:26 - I slide out of the booth mentioning that I don't want our waitress to lose out on tips and begin to walk to the door.
7:30 - We walk outside. Picture it... it's 7:30 pre-daylight savings time. It's twilight and we are standing in Clarendon, an area where the average adult probably makes $115,000/year. Rent controlled housing has never been nor will it ever be in their vocabulary.
I'm thinking I can make a clean break. He took the metro, which is 2 blocks south. I'm parked 2 blocks north. I'm free!! ...until he makes eye contact for the third time and says "It's kind of dark and creepy out. Can a creepy guy like me walk you to your car?"
Are we effing serious? First of all I'm the girl whose Mercury Mariner is parked in front of stores I can't even afford. If someone is getting robbed, it's not me! Not to mention, I have 8 thorny roses with which I can beat anyone who suspiciously approaches me.
7:35 - We arrive at my car and I quickly throw the flowers into the car because so help me God if any of my friends/coworkers were to see this I would never live it down.
7:36 - One hug and I'm out.
I spent the next week receiving two missed calls and voicemails asking how I was doing and if I wanted to get together again. I finally broke the news, via email, that I was "just not that into him".
My 2 takeaways from the date: 1. If I can survive that I can survive ANY first date. 2. He's the narwhal.
I've finally decided to create a blog. Namely it's a place for me to share, vent, wallow in, and celebrate being a 27 (almost 28...*vomit*) year old independent, single female. Let's get to the basics:
#1 - I will never INTEND to offend anyone...although I'm sure it will happen. My opinions and perspective on life are my own and should not be taken as me saying my life is any better, worse, harder, or easier than yours.
#2 - I won't blog every day. I know this. I don't even wash my hair every day.
#3 - This is going to get really boring if it's just me spouting off all the time. Stop being a creepy, silent internet stalker and comment. Give me something to write about.
#4 - If you are my friend I'll probably talk about you on here. Stop being interesting and you won't get talked about. It's really that simple.
That's it for now. Perhaps this thing will actually become interesting by the next post! :)
