I have many pages of bullet point topic ideas. I can feel the engine starting to engage. This is what I am doing. I am doing it right now as I type. I have to forgive myself in advance because I will never be able to make it perfect. It will be what it is. And what anybody else feels about it will not be in my control. There's that word. (Why does that word control my life?)
Inspired by my Friday podcasts, and with the habit of bringing my iPad with me to work apparently working, I got a few more cobwebs out of my head.
Did'ja ever take a "class" on how to use one of those binder/planner things back in the '90s? Before iPads and iPods and keeping track of everything with it's own handy app, some of us tried to organize ourselves with those things. I remember in the class I took, the one thing I took away from the whole thing, that I still find rings true, is if you need to remember something, write it down. The act of writing it down will allow your brain to stop worrying about it.
I think that's really all I'm trying to do.
Friday, May 10, 2013
Thursday, May 09, 2013
Potty Eureka
I am too much in my own head, and I need to figure out how to express my thoughts and feelings successfully to others.
Wednesday, May 01, 2013
Mr. B and the Punch in the Nose
I have issues with confrontation. I will stand up for myself, or I will try, but if it turns confrontational, I don't know what to do.
Perfect example of this, a job I had a while back, a coworker's radio was too loud for me to concentrate and help people on the phone-which was my job, so I asked her to turn it down and she flat out refused. The first time this happened I was flabbergasted. I thought she was a little standoffish toward me, but I just thought it was because I was new. Not trying to make a deal of it or anything, because I didt know it was gonna become a deal, I just asked her nicely if she could turn it down, and she just said NO. I was incredulous and didn't know what to do. I think I tried it once or twice more, giving the benefit of the doubt, and maybe giving her a chance to rethink. But when it was clear that this was going to be a deal, and even a big deal, I just backed off.
I guess it wasn't worth a fight?
(I figured out later that there must have been some bad feelings in her part before I was ever hired, hindsight isn't actually 20/20, it just makes it easier to see the connections.)
The first time I remember standing up for myself, and it didn't go well, either.
I must have already been in school, because I knew one character in this story from school. Mrs. B was a teacher or librarian or school nurse, someone from school, and I knew her as a safe adult. She was fair with students, kind, fairly quiet, that quiet authority type. The antagonist in this story was her husband, a loud strange adult to my tiny child brain.
How this story goes, Mr. and Mrs. B went to the same church as my family did, and we'd offen see them and sometimes chat with them after service. My folks both worked in the school system so they knew Mrs. B outside of church, too.
When my folks would be occasionally chatting with Mrs. B, this strange adult that I really didn't know would sometimes attempt to chat with me, or I should say joke around with me, because all I remember was him teasing me that he was going to kiss me.
As I said, I really didn't know him, and he wasn't like any other adult men I had met before. I didn't really have teasy uncles even, all the adult men in my life were more the quiet authority type.
I. Was. Terrified.
I probably didn't understand that he was just teasing, only little brothers and neighborhood bullies teased, not adults. I don't remember planning ahead, but one Sunday morning, Li'l Shelly had had enough, and I told him in no uncertain terms that if he tried to kiss me I was gonna punch him in the nose. I think I even remember shaking my tiny fist at him. I was standing up for myself. I thought.
My parents were shocked that I would talk to an adult like that, of course I wasn't going to punch him, I was probably prompted to apologize. I remember serious scolding in the car after embarrassed scolding in public.
I realize they didn't know I was afraid if him kissing me, Li'l Shelly had never told them. So they just saw a child speaking rudely to an adult. But I didn't realize that at the time.
Did I somehow internalize that standing up for myself was wrong?
Perfect example of this, a job I had a while back, a coworker's radio was too loud for me to concentrate and help people on the phone-which was my job, so I asked her to turn it down and she flat out refused. The first time this happened I was flabbergasted. I thought she was a little standoffish toward me, but I just thought it was because I was new. Not trying to make a deal of it or anything, because I didt know it was gonna become a deal, I just asked her nicely if she could turn it down, and she just said NO. I was incredulous and didn't know what to do. I think I tried it once or twice more, giving the benefit of the doubt, and maybe giving her a chance to rethink. But when it was clear that this was going to be a deal, and even a big deal, I just backed off.
I guess it wasn't worth a fight?
(I figured out later that there must have been some bad feelings in her part before I was ever hired, hindsight isn't actually 20/20, it just makes it easier to see the connections.)
The first time I remember standing up for myself, and it didn't go well, either.
I must have already been in school, because I knew one character in this story from school. Mrs. B was a teacher or librarian or school nurse, someone from school, and I knew her as a safe adult. She was fair with students, kind, fairly quiet, that quiet authority type. The antagonist in this story was her husband, a loud strange adult to my tiny child brain.
How this story goes, Mr. and Mrs. B went to the same church as my family did, and we'd offen see them and sometimes chat with them after service. My folks both worked in the school system so they knew Mrs. B outside of church, too.
When my folks would be occasionally chatting with Mrs. B, this strange adult that I really didn't know would sometimes attempt to chat with me, or I should say joke around with me, because all I remember was him teasing me that he was going to kiss me.
As I said, I really didn't know him, and he wasn't like any other adult men I had met before. I didn't really have teasy uncles even, all the adult men in my life were more the quiet authority type.
I. Was. Terrified.
I probably didn't understand that he was just teasing, only little brothers and neighborhood bullies teased, not adults. I don't remember planning ahead, but one Sunday morning, Li'l Shelly had had enough, and I told him in no uncertain terms that if he tried to kiss me I was gonna punch him in the nose. I think I even remember shaking my tiny fist at him. I was standing up for myself. I thought.
My parents were shocked that I would talk to an adult like that, of course I wasn't going to punch him, I was probably prompted to apologize. I remember serious scolding in the car after embarrassed scolding in public.
I realize they didn't know I was afraid if him kissing me, Li'l Shelly had never told them. So they just saw a child speaking rudely to an adult. But I didn't realize that at the time.
Did I somehow internalize that standing up for myself was wrong?
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Oh Lord, Please Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood
Looking back on my life, now in probably my second half, I see many many miscommunications and missed communications I have been a part of. Some of my earliest memories involve how I felt when I wasn't able to communicate, or being misunderstood.
This post maybe works as my disclaimer. I need to work through things in my head. I am choosing to work through some things here on this semi-public form of communication. (So far, still a hidden gem even to the one who is working on his own things just the next seat over.) I'm not trying to hide, but I'm also not planning on doing any push posting or tweeting of this stuff.
If I tell a story of Li'l Shelly, it's not to point fingers, I'm only telling the parts I remember, and I realize there are many other perspectives than my own. I'm not sure how much to even trust some of the memories, they are very old.
Sometime after I turned 40, I realized that my 'normal' face, that is, my face when I am not specifically trying to smile or talk or anything, my 'normal' face is a little frowny. The corners naturally turn down somewhat. Our faces get older, things start sagging on our faces just like other places. So my kinda frowny face can look like I'm angry or sad when I'm not. I decided I didn't want to put that frowny face out to the world, if it doesn't represent the me on the inside. And I started making a conscious effort to smile more.
That might be a really stupid analogy, but I'm trying to say that I'm not too old to make things better around me and in me. And I'm not afraid to seek out those places that need upgrading.
And examining some of the stories in my head, some of the memories, some of the old feelings, I think will help me find the frowny places that I want to change. And I will report back on the changes.
This post maybe works as my disclaimer. I need to work through things in my head. I am choosing to work through some things here on this semi-public form of communication. (So far, still a hidden gem even to the one who is working on his own things just the next seat over.) I'm not trying to hide, but I'm also not planning on doing any push posting or tweeting of this stuff.
If I tell a story of Li'l Shelly, it's not to point fingers, I'm only telling the parts I remember, and I realize there are many other perspectives than my own. I'm not sure how much to even trust some of the memories, they are very old.
Sometime after I turned 40, I realized that my 'normal' face, that is, my face when I am not specifically trying to smile or talk or anything, my 'normal' face is a little frowny. The corners naturally turn down somewhat. Our faces get older, things start sagging on our faces just like other places. So my kinda frowny face can look like I'm angry or sad when I'm not. I decided I didn't want to put that frowny face out to the world, if it doesn't represent the me on the inside. And I started making a conscious effort to smile more.
That might be a really stupid analogy, but I'm trying to say that I'm not too old to make things better around me and in me. And I'm not afraid to seek out those places that need upgrading.
And examining some of the stories in my head, some of the memories, some of the old feelings, I think will help me find the frowny places that I want to change. And I will report back on the changes.
Friday, April 19, 2013
Trying to like myself...one section at a time
I just took a glamour shot of my feet and posted it on the facing book. OMG could I be any lamer? I have been told twice in the last two weeks that I have cute feet. And neither time was it flattery from the person giving me my first ever mani pedi yesterday. I do have cute feet. And if I'm going to be nicer to myself, I guess I need to appreciate the little things about me that I do like.
Monday, April 15, 2013
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