Upon reflection...

I just wrote a post saying I was hoping for better things this year. And I am. But I've had a rather jolting epiphany in that not only will I have to actively pursue some of these things, rather than let stuff play out, but I may have to do it somewhere else. Or somehow else. Or somewhat differently. Something like that.

I said 2011 was pretty ok. It was. But tonight I realized it's because it was slightly better than 2010, and then nothing changed. Nothing too bad happened. But nothing too good happened either. It was a flatline year, and usually, a flatline means you're dead.

Obviously, I'm not speaking literally here. But really... What more do I have to show for myself after 2011? Nothing. I love a number of things about where I am now, but where it counts, I'm no further ahead than I was a year ago. The evening candle-light version is that last year was smooth, living was always tolerable, making it day-to-day was no biggie, and this year will be even better. The harsh noonday sun version is that I am too old and too tired of being this endlessly broke, this hopelessly alone (and often lonely), this knowingly expendable, and this socially inconsequential.

I feel like I'm slowly breaking down, like a car that gets no love from its owner. Simply put, I'm tired. I spend all day at a workplace I love, full of people I love; the best people I know, really, and in an industry in which I truly take an interest and want to learn more and think is the tits... but where I'm not all that integral. Anyone could take my place and there would be hardly a hiccup in the day-to-day. Most of my tasks are time-consuming, but fairly mindless and minimally creative, and require only a basic education... I know that's often the starting point when entering an industry without prior training, but I sometimes feel that this is as far as I'll go. And sometimes I wonder whether I actually have anything else to offer. If I don't, I have a problem, as my position isn't worth much, and I can't live much longer with just getting by. I'm only barely above water; even that's a struggle, and the shallow end of the pool is nowhere in sight.

This is about more than the job though. That's the easy metaphor. In the long run, I don't make a squat of difference there or anywhere else. I'm not doing anything there, or here, or anywhere, where I'm using any skill that isn't a skill everyone around me possesses, or that makes me needed or necessary or unique. I don't impact the life of any one person. I haven't made any sort of lasting impression on this town I've been in for 12 years. I'm here, I'm there, I'm everywhere. But you probably didn't notice. I hardly noticed myself.

So, then, decisions. Pros and cons. Can I ever be a whole person here, doing what I'm doing? Will I find fulfillment in more than one aspect of life? Can I climb to a stable, comfortable, secure, and relatively happy existance? Or is complacency and sticking with the place I know slowly and silently killing me?

It's the new year. Where do I go from here?

So this is the New Year, I don't feel any different.

I like that somehow there has been a universal, yet unspoken, agreement that this year we all change the format we use to say the year out loud. It was always "Nineteen-ninety whatever", and then Y2K happened. And people would say that. "Hey, it's Why Two Kay!", but that made sense since it was all hyped up and the world was supposed to end since All The Computers were gonna freak out and cause planes to drop from the sky and the nukes to be launched and Wall St. to collapse, and all the other stuff that happens in futuristic science fiction written in 1953. But nothing happened, and it was right back to saying "Two-thousand blah" for the last ten years. side note: and 'blah' they were. Ugh. My twenties. So full of ups and downs, probably more downs really, and what-the-hell-is-going-on's and what-am-I-doing-with-my-life's... Overall they were blah. And here it turns 2012, and everyone's all like, "Twenty-twelve". No memo, no presidential decree, no professional athlete endorsement, just BAM. "Twenty-twelve". New, clean, minus a syllable, sleek and modern. side note: Perhaps this is an indication of people everywhere hoping for a fresh start? A desire to live cleaner, simpler, more positively... The "two-thousand"s didn't kill us, but sometimes sure seemed they were trying to. Things can only go up in the "twenty"s, right? A modest change to promote a new outlook. Maybe people believe, subconsciously, that this is the year that "a change is gonna come"...

I guess I can say I'm one of those people. I am not one to make resolutions because, well, I know myself and in the end I'm lazy and a procrastinator and a general non-go-getter, and all of those things plus resolutions equal massive failure. That's no good for the old ego, you know? But, 2011 was pretty ok. So I would like bigger things from 2012. I feel like karma has sort of jerked me around for a while and that it should be out of reasons to screw with me since I think I'm an alright gal and not a bitch most of the time. The question is how to go about getting the things I want out of this year. Some of them require money, which sucks because I don't have any. For those I suppose I'll have to work more in planning mode, which also sucks because traditionally me and plans don't generally agree. Honestly, if I can get through most of the year without any unexpected and/or expensive items of bullshit (see UGA Vet Hospital crapola for Joe, 2011), I'll be mostly happy.

The other stuff, well I guess I just have to wait for something to happen there. The smitten is clearly a no-go. There was a false start involved, not the best way to do things but it happened and we're all adults, followed promptly by a mention of acting irresponsibly and him not being himself, and then I felt bad since this amounted to being informed I was both a bad influence and a big oopsie. Le sigh. So I sent an email (dumb, dumb, dumb) basically coming clean with the smitten while still trying to be funny and cool about it all and to say I wasn't judging or anything. No response. Not that I expected one, and even said one wasn't necessary since I already felt like a bad person and though I was trying to say something nice knew it was unsolicited and most likely not wanted information and didn't want to obligate anyone to anything... anyway. Way to go, Erin. Screwing things up since 1980.

I went to Cincinnati for Christmas. It was overall a good trip. There was the usual arguing over political differences and my father making not-funny stereotypical "jokes" and then calling me "too sensitive" when I told him he was being rude. Other than that, it was fine. I rented a car and drove up. Dad bought me a vacuum cleaner for Christmas, which is awesome. He also loaded me down with a bunch of other stuff. I went up with a suitcase, a pillow, and three cases of beer. I came back with a suitcase, a pillow, one case of beer, a vacuum, some throw rugs, a coffee maker, a George Foreman grill thing, a guitar amp, a guitar stand, a bass amp, a bass, a box of old photographs, some pots, random kitchen accessories, and 40 or so albums he's had since the 70's and 80's. The rental still averaged 38-40 mpg on the way back.

As I'm still without internet at home, I did this post on my phone. One lesson: save frequently!!

"I don't wanna sound like a queer or nothin', but I think Depeche Mode's a sweet band!"

Holy hell. Writing these out on a smartphone is a monstrous pain in the ass. Not only is it way too time-consuming, but the predictive-text/auto correct/whatever on an Android phone obviously does not 'learn' what words you type frequently. I know this because it keeps changing 'yeah' to 'Utah'. I have never been to Utah, nor do I ever have occasion to write about it as 3.2 beer and temple-approved undergarments aren't interests of mine. But you know what is? Cursing. And this phone makes that hard, too. I think it's trying to ben-hur me... Uh... That should say censor. And I honest-to-god did not do that on purpose, but had to leave it rather than edit it because that's exactly what I'm talking about. Seriously? Ben-hur? When have I ever typed that? So duck this piece of shirt phone.

I made some plans over the last couple weeks that fell through today. Not really a big deal, but something I was kinda excited about since it seemed I'd done good. Oh well. It'll work out, just won't be quite as neat.

Know what's lame? This. And me. And... What kinda cruel joke is the head/FSM playing when you find yourself absolutely, retardedly, and embarrassingly smitten with someone who seemingly has zero interest in you? And when you don't even know why they're so great in your mind in the first place? Total bunk, I say. What's the point of the whole 'chemistry' thing if it's nothing but a boy-who-cried-wolf for one person and a source of entertainment for the other? Really. Here's this thing that suddenly makes you forget your words and say dumb shit, if anything at all because by god, you can find something witty to say EVERY OTHER FREAKING TIME but not when they show up, and makes you feel like a bumbling idiot when you try to be cool and maybe show just enough interest to not be weird or over-do it but to try to get to know them better, but yeah, that backfires and all they see is the bumbling idiot. And just coming clean is most likely a bad idea anyway, for the obvious reason in that I don't see a mutual interest, but also because I can't exactly avoid them should it end up being a painfully awkward exchange and I don't like spending a portion of each day wishing I could dig a hole and hide out for a while. It's just dumb. That's all. Also, I'm not one to often come down with cases of the smittens. I just don't. Since it does happen so infrequently, I would prefer they happen when there's a chance. I don't wanna be wasting my limited supply of smittens on folks who don't want any. They're like Thin Mints. Yeah, you know they come out once a year, and you can even stock up. But you never get enough. So when you happen on that random box at the back of the cabinet, it's like gold. You keep most to yourself, but if any do leave your hands, you're damn sure to give them to people who appreciate it. And who will return the favor with their box of Tag-a-longs.

My cat Joe has developed an insatiable taste for potato chips. If he hears anything remotely similar to a chip bag, he materializes from wherever he was sleeping and will not get out of my face until I let him see what it is. He used to be this way about ice cream and chocolate milk, too, which is a little strange since cats can't taste sweet.

I missed the Christmas parade again this year. Oh well. I have no need to see it ever again, really, because nothing, nowhere, nohow, could ever top the Rotisserie Jesus float from a few years back. Nothing. Except perhaps a live depiction of the birth of Jesus, placenta and all.

Can You Spot The Scary?

Oops. I forgot to do a birthday post this year. No biggie. Well, less like I forgot (I know I'm getting older, but I got quite a while before the senility sets in. You shuddup.) but more that I don't have internet at home, and typing this crap out on a cell phone, smart or not, is a pain the ass. Regardless, nothing's changed, except now I'm 31 so I have even less of an excuse for just about everything I do. I have a feeling that someday I'll be hitting 40, all the while stomping my foot and refusing to eat my vegetables or fold my laundry or remember to pay my bills on time or any of those other things that adults are supposed to do and like it.

I'm only posting this now, at work, yes I know, don't fire me, it's almost 5pm, because Facebook has done it (well, did it the other day but I forgot about it) again with the sponsored ads. Here you go. One of these things is not (quite as fitting) as the others... ok, scratch that. It doesn't fit the ad on first glance, but then again, on another level it TOTALLY fits.

   

Can you spot the Scary? 

Alright. They're all scary. But one in particular is the thing of nightmares. Ugh. *shudder* 

Is it a kid? A doll? WTF? Be a social worker! Remove dolls from the possession of full-grown men (multiple sanitizing sessions needed)! Or remove kids who get dressed up as dolls from the possession of overweight middle-aged women who are using their children to vicariously live out their own Pretty Pretty Princess fantasies (multiple therapy sessions needed)! 

Same diff, yo.

Still:

Here. Working. Hanging out with cool people. Hanging out by myself. Don't have internet at home. Getting by. Carless. Alive. Thinking about having a birthday party or not. Have this stupid crush. Haven't done anything about it. Don't see a reason to. Think I'd rather avoid disappointment and rejection. Have three cats. Hate folding laundry. Don't like mushrooms. Wonder where the time went. Could eat french fries every day. A goofball. A dork. An individual. Not cool. In a band. Loving everyone in my life. Watching movies on VHS. Drinking beer. Drinking bourbon. Drinking chocolate milk. Listening to shitty vinyl bought at thrift stores. Almost a midget. Missing some things. Hanging on. Hoping. Dreaming.

A List Of Things, Part 2

Things I Don't Have Enough Of:


1. Dollars
Everyone says this. Everyone wants nice things; some people just want nicer/more expensive things than others. I'm not one of them. I don't need any fancy electronics or new cars. I just want to pay off my loans, be able to get new shoes when I need them, and have a working car so that I can go do things like buy groceries. I would like to not live paycheck-to-paycheck any longer. I would like to have some savings again. I would like to maybe take a small trip somewhere. Nothing lavish. Sometimes I feel like I did everything right, but all for naught.

2. Days/Hours
I need at least two more days per week, and at least 6 more hours per day. Can you get on that, please? There has got to be a way to slow the rotation and orbit of the earth to do this. Then I could find time for all the things I want to do. Or for a second job.

3. Cats
Haha! Just kidding... but, seriously...

While I recognize that I do in fact have the Crazy Cat Lady gene, I am all topped off on cats. Got enough. Thanks.

4. Pants, etc.
I have way too many tee shirts, but not enough other clothing. I need to do a swap or something. I can always find a tee shirt to wear, but sometimes I can't find pants. No one wants to see me not wearing pants. Mostly because I also don't own any cute undies. I could find some way to make all those extra tee shirts into pants, maybe. Or skirts. Skirts would probably be easier.

5. Liver Cells
Because I'm burning through those bitches like there's no tomorrow. Hell, it won't be long before the survivors figure out my master plan and flee in droves. They can only regenerate if there are some left, right?

6. Courage
They gave it all to that damn lion. Didn't save me any. I mean, I'm not a total pansy. I don't wet myself when something is scary. I don't pass out at the sight of blood. I guess what I mean is that I'm one of those shy people. I'm a lot (A LOT) better than I used to be, but sometimes I wish I was one of those extroverts who can just come out and say what they think, ask for what they want, and all that good stuff. This would make things like the stupid crush I mentioned in the last post easier. I could just say, "Hey, I think you're neat. Wanna hang?" and get on with it if the answer is no. Or get it on if the answer is yes.

7. Social Grace
Jeebus, I'm socially awkward (see above). I'm pretty good at embarrassing myself. All because if I'm not making a joke, then I don't have much to say. Or rather, I'm no good at saying it. Now, if it's an F-bomb-laden rant or a guffaw-inducing double entendre, I'm golden. A wink-nudge play on words? Yup. I'm punny! But hell, stick me in a room with people I don't know or in front of a crowd, or make me talk to a boy I like or have a serious discussion, and my brain stops communicating with my mouth. I'm lucky to remember my own name and chances are slim that I'll remember anyone else's. I might drool. And I'll totally accidentally drop another F-bomb.

8. Motivation
I know this is a shock to some of you, but I'm not the go-getter type. This is the perfect example: I should be finishing the furniture rearrange I started this past Saturday night. But instead I'm sitting here tossing word turds at the internet. I wish I was the domestic goddess other girls my age (aka women and/or real adults) are, but I hate doing dishes. I am not a real adult. I am easily distracted. I have no desire to fold my laundry when I can sit and read my book instead. And all those unfinished projects I mentioned in Part 1? Yup. I just can't get going on them. I suppose you could call me lazy, but I prefer to think of it as a difference in priority. Those dishes aren't going anywhere (hell, I don't have food to put on them anyway!), but my VHS player might stop working tomorrow and I still have six tapes of old The X-Files episodes to watch!!

9. Photos Of My Food On Facebook
This is the thing to do now, apparently. Every day, I see what a good sized chunk of my friends eat. It's like they're trying to prove something. What it is, I don't know... who eats the most? Who eats the weirdest stuff? Who isn't anorexic? Who cooks vs. who goes out? Either way, I better get in on it or I won't be in the Cool Club anymore. Maybe I'll do extreme close-ups and have people guess what it is. Maybe I'll only post photos of the most mundane of foodstuffs like cheese and crackers or cereal. Maybe I'll post photos of my cats' meals. Maybe I'll post photos of what my meal looks like 8 hours later... you just never know.

9.5. Backrubs
I always want a backrub. Always.

10. Manfriends
Well, I just want one. Not friends who are boys. I got lots of those. And why I'd want just one of them around a lot is sort of mind-boggling because they drive me nuts. But still. It'd be cool to have a special buddy around again. It's been a hot minute, I've had my fun, and wouldn't mind taking another shot at finding something more meaningful. Problem is I can't find someone I'm that interested in (with one exception. See #10 of Part 1). I know some cute guys, and some nice guys, but there either really isn't any real chemistry or they're taken or gay or not into me or or or ad infinitum. I also tend to see only the same group of people over and over again. I know some friends who have had luck with the internet thing, but that's not my style. Whatever. I'm no spinster yet. But I'm no spring chicken, either. I'd kinda like to get on with this whole "life" thing and have someone to share it with. There's gotta be at least one dapper young gentleman out there I can trick into thinking I'm the bees knees, right?

A List Of Things, Part 1

Things I Have Too Many Of:

1. Tee Shirts
Yes. I own more tee shirts than any one person should. Especially since I'm a 30-year-old woman (?). Note: The question mark is not to reflect my questioning of whether or not I am female. I am for sure one of those. It's the "30-year-old" part that boggles me. Where did the years go? How do I qualify as 'functional adult'? What the hell is going on?? And that's my point. Look in my closet. You'll find zero power suits. Only a couple fancy dresses. No nightclub duds. And a stupid amount of tee shirts. Really. Is that the wardrobe of an adult? How did I sneak into that club?

2. Molars
I still got those pesky wisdom teeth. "Wisdom Teeth". What a load of crock. They make their presence known to me pretty much every day at this point. And they do not make me wiser. They make me cranky. Recently I had a dream that I went to have them taken out, and they decided they were going to take out my front teeth, too. Then they gave me braces and moved the outer incisors to the center, which made me look even funnier than I do now.

3. Pint Glasses
It must really look like I have a drinking problem. Open my cabinet and before you are somewhere between 35 and 45 pint glasses. On the one hand, this comes in handy when I go anti-domestic and let the dishes pile up. Or when I get a little beverage-happy and change the type of bevvie I'm sipping on 6 times in 3 hours. On the other, it's a lot of glasses. Hey! Maybe I have them for all those parties I have! Oh, that's right. I can't remember the last time there were more than 5 people here at one time. More than that and I'd probably freak out.

4. Stupid Crap
You know this stuff. The things that just materialize. Knick-knacks and tchotchkes that get set somewhere, then somewhere else, then put in a box, and then just seem to multiply on their own. One day you look around and BAM! you have stickers and buttons and keychains and branded luggage tags and a rubber Hot Wheels watch (that still works) on the bottom shelf of your coffee table. Time to go.

5. Books I Want To Read
This isn't really a bad thing. But is but one counterpoint to an item that will follow on another list.

6. Cats
Haha! Just kidding.... But, seriously...

7. Bills
Who doesn't? Fuck The Man, I say. Of course, I only say it because I do enjoy things like shelter and food. I could stick to just that, but then my prissy ass also enjoys such luxuries as indoor plumbing (including hot water!), garbage pickup, and mobile connectivity. Living large has its cost.

8. Unstarted Projects/Unrealized Ideas
So many things I planned to do, so many (like, all of them) undone. The flip side are the ideas I have where I can't get the details worked out. I want to arrange my furniture in an aesthetic manner, but have not the eye for such tasks. Same with decorating. I can't match my clothing. You think I can pony up some tasteful decor??

9. Activities I Want To Do
I like bowling. I also like trivia. But they happen on the same night! I like roller coasters, but can't make it to Atlanta for a simple fix, let alone to the Trifecta Of Fun in Ohio. Speaking of Ohio, I want to eat some Skyline really should visit my family in Cincinnati. I would like to go to the beach. Or to another country. I would like to, for the first time in my entire life, take an honest-to-FSM for-real vacation. I want to play with the Athens Symphony, and rejoin the Northwinds Symphonic Band. I want to take some sort of artistic movement class (but I don't want you to watch because you will laugh). All of these are also a counterpoint to more than one thing that will be on a subsequent list...

10. Crushes
First off, what a funny word! Second, by saying this, it would seem that I have a crush on anything that is at the very least not fully decomposed, but this is not the case. I am not one of those girls who 'crush' on every cute guy they see. I actually pretty much never have them. And that's ok. Because I think they're a pain in the ass. Up until recently the only crush I could claim to have had for a long while could be classified as the "Thirteen Year Old Schoolgirl" variety, wherein I admire from afar but have no actual desire to pursue it further. I'd rather just giggle and gawk and move on with my night. So that one doesn't count because it doesn't pop up in my head any other time. No, now I'm speaking of an actual crush. It's only one. And that's too many. I will elaborate on this soon (I need to write more anyway), but long story short, I don't have time for this stupidity. All it does is invade my brain when I don't need the distraction, render me unable to say anything interesting or clever when the opportunity for interaction arises, and make me obsess on what is wrong with me since it doesn't appear to be mutual. Which is frustrating as all hell. Boys are stupid, and crushes are stupid, and I'm too old for this crap.