So I watched The One with Two Parties and half of another episode of friends and feel much better. Course the real friends who came ever helped too.
Gotta go. Supposed to get up in four hours. I am SOOOOOOOOO taking a nap when we're done at the soup kitchen tomorrow!!
S
Friday, May 18, 2007
Borderline Personality or Just a Bad Attitude
I'm still cranky and unhappy.
I called my best friend last night because she can usually cheer me through a bad mood and out onto the other side to humor just laced with pure bitterness. She was busy (though in fairness she called me an hour and a half later to check on me even though she was the only one working on her floor so that was sweet and earned her serious bonus points in the people I am willing to talk to arena).
I called home assuming my father would answer the phone and would jolly me along with tales of the ridiculous (you know like moose catching buses and the tried and true joke of the post office). He didn't answer. My mother did. I love my mother, but she and I have a tense relationship at best. Oddly enough, my mother was kind of down last night too. Even more oddly, she and I managed to carry on a conversation for over 30 minutes without pushing either person's buttons.
I made it home and finally found my computer (which probably wouldn't have been so hard to find on a good day but was made even more maddening on an already rotten day) and promptly took a test to determine whether I have borderline personality. It was all very scientific. Sadly, I can't blame my poor attitude on a disease (at least not the disease of borderline personality).
Perhaps I'll have to go back to the family favorite and just take depression. When I was talking to my mom last night I said that I was really cranky, but I was also fairly sad. She said she was depressed. I said maybe I am too. She said, "you could be, you come from a long line of depressives, it's like you've been bred for it like a Kentucky derby favorite." I like that. I like imagining breeding for depression. Lets take these Polish Jews and mix them with some German Farmers (you know so you get the stubbornness that refuses as much help as possible) and see how that turns out. Turns out you get a strong willed person who is sad when people don't offer to help her and gets cranky at the least provocation. . . .
Here's hoping my mood improves tonight. I am trying to self-medicate, good friends, guacamole and gin (the latter being an old family remedy -- if the gin doesn't work maybe I'll try tab and rum).
I called my best friend last night because she can usually cheer me through a bad mood and out onto the other side to humor just laced with pure bitterness. She was busy (though in fairness she called me an hour and a half later to check on me even though she was the only one working on her floor so that was sweet and earned her serious bonus points in the people I am willing to talk to arena).
I called home assuming my father would answer the phone and would jolly me along with tales of the ridiculous (you know like moose catching buses and the tried and true joke of the post office). He didn't answer. My mother did. I love my mother, but she and I have a tense relationship at best. Oddly enough, my mother was kind of down last night too. Even more oddly, she and I managed to carry on a conversation for over 30 minutes without pushing either person's buttons.
I made it home and finally found my computer (which probably wouldn't have been so hard to find on a good day but was made even more maddening on an already rotten day) and promptly took a test to determine whether I have borderline personality. It was all very scientific. Sadly, I can't blame my poor attitude on a disease (at least not the disease of borderline personality).
Perhaps I'll have to go back to the family favorite and just take depression. When I was talking to my mom last night I said that I was really cranky, but I was also fairly sad. She said she was depressed. I said maybe I am too. She said, "you could be, you come from a long line of depressives, it's like you've been bred for it like a Kentucky derby favorite." I like that. I like imagining breeding for depression. Lets take these Polish Jews and mix them with some German Farmers (you know so you get the stubbornness that refuses as much help as possible) and see how that turns out. Turns out you get a strong willed person who is sad when people don't offer to help her and gets cranky at the least provocation. . . .
Here's hoping my mood improves tonight. I am trying to self-medicate, good friends, guacamole and gin (the latter being an old family remedy -- if the gin doesn't work maybe I'll try tab and rum).
Thursday, May 17, 2007
I Am Cranky! --and this isn't funny or interesting
I am cranky. It's just me. Okay some things were said to me that ruffled my feathers and the weather is grey and the big zipcar birthday party I went to at lunch was lame (though I did win a day with a bmw) and I am annoyed I can't remember what terribly exciting things I did on April 13th-16th (except that I know that I went to a great Greek Easter party) because my memory used to be good and now it sucks and I am only 3/4 of the way through my first diet coke of the day and I have a canker (or cold) sore. . . But really, that shouldn't be enough to make me as cranky as I am. I mean I feel like the girl that I saw in a cartoon a long time ago who had some fire superpower. I don't remember who she was or what the cartoon was about I just remember that she was playing dolls with the other girls and then her doll melted (because they'd given her one made of ice) and the other girls laughed and she shot fire out and all their dolls were caught in a blaze. Or maybe I've made that all up. regardless, all that to say right this moment I think I could swallow people in a blaze of fire if someone had been stupid enough to actually give me a superpower -- just ask the adt employee who just had to call and re-schedule an appt. she'd tell you I am not my usual work-fake-nice-self.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Easter Sunday
So quickly, because I am tired of being so far behind, my boy and I had a lovely Easter.
We went to church at my childhood friend's church and then we went to her house for an incredible brunch. She and her husband are both incredible cooks. Their friends added to the bounty (bringing such delicacies as monkey bread a deviled eggs -- I LOVE deviled eggs).
The table where I was seated was incredibly fun. there was a professional go cart racer (I think --it could have been another recreational vehicle), a graphic novel aficionado (who also worked destroying a library once -- it was being torn down/packed up, downsized and moved) who worked in Long Island, and encouraging/fun people filling out the rest of the table.
After a lovely and filling brunch we went back to my boy's brother's house picked up our stuff and said our goodbyes. We got on the highway and started listening to Alan Alda's book Never Have Your Dog Stuffed and Other Things I've Learned. While I found the book quite enjoyable, I can honestly say the ride home was THE WORST in recent memory. A van almost hit us (and not in the I am overly dramatic and I always think everyone is trying to hit us when I am in a car it really did almost hit us). From that moment on, I was a nervous wreck. Shouting at my boy when people two up were breaking and the person in front of us was still rushing toward them, shouting when a car would come up beside us, flinching and jumping and really, generally being the worst passenger you can possibly be short of grabbing the wheel or anything. My boy, to his credit was calm through it all. He didn't yell at me, he didn't demand that I calm down and he never once said I was overreacting (though I am sure he was thinking it). He calmly drove as competently as he could and got us home safely.
We picked up my roommate and returned the car to the rental place. Then we proceeded to walk in the freezing cold to the South Street Diner (one of the few 24 hour restaurants in Boston). It turns out that they serve mimosas so after the harrowing drive home I treated the table (mind you my boy doesn't drink) to a pitcher of cranberry mimosas. They called it cranberry, but really they only used the cranberry to color the champagne so that it was more of a pink champagne -- I am not complaining. It was exactly what I needed at that point.
So yes, the day ended well -- even if I wasn't so great at trusting the God who had come and died on a cross for me to also keep me in his perfect plan on the way home. . . . .
We went to church at my childhood friend's church and then we went to her house for an incredible brunch. She and her husband are both incredible cooks. Their friends added to the bounty (bringing such delicacies as monkey bread a deviled eggs -- I LOVE deviled eggs).
The table where I was seated was incredibly fun. there was a professional go cart racer (I think --it could have been another recreational vehicle), a graphic novel aficionado (who also worked destroying a library once -- it was being torn down/packed up, downsized and moved) who worked in Long Island, and encouraging/fun people filling out the rest of the table.
After a lovely and filling brunch we went back to my boy's brother's house picked up our stuff and said our goodbyes. We got on the highway and started listening to Alan Alda's book Never Have Your Dog Stuffed and Other Things I've Learned. While I found the book quite enjoyable, I can honestly say the ride home was THE WORST in recent memory. A van almost hit us (and not in the I am overly dramatic and I always think everyone is trying to hit us when I am in a car it really did almost hit us). From that moment on, I was a nervous wreck. Shouting at my boy when people two up were breaking and the person in front of us was still rushing toward them, shouting when a car would come up beside us, flinching and jumping and really, generally being the worst passenger you can possibly be short of grabbing the wheel or anything. My boy, to his credit was calm through it all. He didn't yell at me, he didn't demand that I calm down and he never once said I was overreacting (though I am sure he was thinking it). He calmly drove as competently as he could and got us home safely.
We picked up my roommate and returned the car to the rental place. Then we proceeded to walk in the freezing cold to the South Street Diner (one of the few 24 hour restaurants in Boston). It turns out that they serve mimosas so after the harrowing drive home I treated the table (mind you my boy doesn't drink) to a pitcher of cranberry mimosas. They called it cranberry, but really they only used the cranberry to color the champagne so that it was more of a pink champagne -- I am not complaining. It was exactly what I needed at that point.
So yes, the day ended well -- even if I wasn't so great at trusting the God who had come and died on a cross for me to also keep me in his perfect plan on the way home. . . . .
Holy Saturday
On Saturday (the 8th of April -- so I am slowly catching up) my boy and I went to visit his brother and my childhood friend (she claims I am her oldest friend since my mother was her mother's nurse when she was pregnant with my friend).
He and I woke up fairly early (for me) and got on the train with all our stuff (we were spending the night and having Easter there too). We didn't pause for cash on the way because it was just too much to do with all our luggage etc. We made it out to the airport where we rented a car from enterprise (they were really great, the guy was at the gate right when we got off the airport shuttle so we got right on to go to the rental place and we were met by a friendly woman who gave us each a bottle of water and asked us if we needed her to mapquest anything). We were on the road shortly afterward and I realized we only had $7 After the first tunnel we were down to $3.o0 and fairly quickly we were down to $2.00 (counting all the change we had) so I suggested (screamed, suggested really who's paying attention?) that we get off at the very next exit. It was sort of self serving since the next exit had the whole foods with my absolute favorite wine. . . . After stocking up on some wine and some chocolate rabbits etc. we were back on the road better prepared to honor our hosts and with enough money to make it off the highway without any promissory notes.
He and I woke up fairly early (for me) and got on the train with all our stuff (we were spending the night and having Easter there too). We didn't pause for cash on the way because it was just too much to do with all our luggage etc. We made it out to the airport where we rented a car from enterprise (they were really great, the guy was at the gate right when we got off the airport shuttle so we got right on to go to the rental place and we were met by a friendly woman who gave us each a bottle of water and asked us if we needed her to mapquest anything). We were on the road shortly afterward and I realized we only had $7 After the first tunnel we were down to $3.o0 and fairly quickly we were down to $2.00 (counting all the change we had) so I suggested (screamed, suggested really who's paying attention?) that we get off at the very next exit. It was sort of self serving since the next exit had the whole foods with my absolute favorite wine. . . . After stocking up on some wine and some chocolate rabbits etc. we were back on the road better prepared to honor our hosts and with enough money to make it off the highway without any promissory notes.
We sped toward New Haven (I had no idea how quickly until we got there and my boy's brother calculated how fast -- that did not make me happy!!!!). Anyway, we pulled up to my boy's brother's house and he came out and helped us with our luggage (have I mentioned that I am a terrible packer? I don't know why/how, but I am).
In the bustle I was never actually introduced to my boy's brother. Then my boy went to the bathroom leaving me alone with his brother who said, "so I am Adam, your boy didn't really introduce us" and I said, "srh, and yeah, I know, he's done that before to me." Adam said, "yeah, we're kind of a socially awkward family. . . ." it was cute.
I had worked hard not to have big expectations for the weekend. I tend to over plan, having itineraries that are practically laminated with timing and side notes but for this trip I had decided to be "breezy" The only thing I wanted to do was go to ikea (and we didn't actually do that). Adam asked what we wanted to do and the only thing my boy could come up with was a fountain that he wanted to see. We made our way down to the Yale campus and wandered around and around until we realized that the fountain was probably in the construction zone we had circled twice. I was starving by this point. His brother asked once more what we would like to do and I finally let some of my bossy nature show when I said I would really like some food!
We tried for a famous burger shack but it was closed for the day so we ended up at some hole in the wall diner with a Greek flare. It was pretty quiet, my boy's brother being only slightly more vocal than my boy. I would grasp any possible question or comment to talk as much as I could. At one point in the diner Adam asked my boy if he was going to the family reunion and my boy said he didn't know and I asked what the family reunion was like (it might have been more like: What's a family reunion like? I have a small family so we've never really had a family reunion, well my mom has a big family, but we've never been to a reunion, the closest was one time when we went to a family luncheon and my sister and I were completely snubbed except for one time when someone asked who we were and someone else answered with a sigh "second cousins I suppose" um, yeah, so what's it like?) and Adam said it's pretty much like this, a bunch of us sitting around not really saying anything. . . . and then one saying suddenly I am going to go for a walk (just so they can get out of there) and everyone deciding they want to go for a walk too. -- We really need to bring horse shoes or something this year so we can at least do something! (I suggested board games too, just in case it rained, but perhaps they get out of the reunion if it rains -- I am getting out of the reunion, I have a wedding that weekend).
After lunch we wandered around a little more ending up at the museum of natural history (which apparently has a triceratops out front with an incredibly detailed butthole -- so I hear). It was an interesting little museum and it definitely took the pressure off everyone trying to talk/accept silence :). On the way home we stopped at both East Rock and West Rock -- where I refused to get out and hike because my feet hurt from all our wanderings.
We got home and collapsed, my boy went to the bathroom and his brother said "you know I have to report back to the family about you right? Your boy hasn't told anyone about you and my mother called me and asked me what I knew about SRH and I said all I know is he said they were coming to visit me, he didn't tell me anything more. . . ." I said, well am I going to get a good report? He said yeah, I think so and I said is there anything I can do to earn bonus points? and he just laughed.
We realized that it had been five hours since the diner, so we decided to go to texas roadhouse. Yes, I would like to get on my high horse about chain restaurants. Yes, I would like to say I don't like it, that I hate the kitschy atmosphere and the unimaginative food but gosh darn it, I LOVE the cinnamon butter and the rolls and honestly, the meat is really tender. So yes, not terribly brilliant cooking, but good.
I called to invite my childhood friend and she gracefully bowed out (except for the point where she said TEXAS ROADHOUSE?! SERIOUSLY? THIS IS NOT A JOKE?! -- oh, wait please don't tell them that). We waited for quite some time (the beer cart in the lobby closed before we made it to our table but then we stocked up on the cinnamon butter baby!!! Adam had a blue moon with an orange. I said I'd never heard of that and he said it was the way it was supposed to be. I have always had it with a lemon (in fact tonight I tried it with an orange and I can tell you I like it better with a lemon, it's a stronger flavor).
Anyway, dinner was good and then my boy and I went over to my childhood friend's apt. It was so gorgeous (she mentioned that really I should have a wedding just for the cool presents!). She and her husband have done incredible things with the space and found items they have. They have a pantry to be jealous of (it's California closet-esque). I swear they should publish and interior design book.
The difference between me and my friend and my boy and his brother was striking. Where the two of them had long pauses the two of us had no spaces. I swear that her husband and my boy simply sat there the whole time while the two of us went back and forth. I had such a good time with her reminiscing and chatting about important ministries/recent events in our life. It was late in the night and finally her husband mentioned bed and my boy looked grateful :).
We went back to my boy's brother's house and I set out Easter presents for the both of them. . .
In the bustle I was never actually introduced to my boy's brother. Then my boy went to the bathroom leaving me alone with his brother who said, "so I am Adam, your boy didn't really introduce us" and I said, "srh, and yeah, I know, he's done that before to me." Adam said, "yeah, we're kind of a socially awkward family. . . ." it was cute.
I had worked hard not to have big expectations for the weekend. I tend to over plan, having itineraries that are practically laminated with timing and side notes but for this trip I had decided to be "breezy" The only thing I wanted to do was go to ikea (and we didn't actually do that). Adam asked what we wanted to do and the only thing my boy could come up with was a fountain that he wanted to see. We made our way down to the Yale campus and wandered around and around until we realized that the fountain was probably in the construction zone we had circled twice. I was starving by this point. His brother asked once more what we would like to do and I finally let some of my bossy nature show when I said I would really like some food!
We tried for a famous burger shack but it was closed for the day so we ended up at some hole in the wall diner with a Greek flare. It was pretty quiet, my boy's brother being only slightly more vocal than my boy. I would grasp any possible question or comment to talk as much as I could. At one point in the diner Adam asked my boy if he was going to the family reunion and my boy said he didn't know and I asked what the family reunion was like (it might have been more like: What's a family reunion like? I have a small family so we've never really had a family reunion, well my mom has a big family, but we've never been to a reunion, the closest was one time when we went to a family luncheon and my sister and I were completely snubbed except for one time when someone asked who we were and someone else answered with a sigh "second cousins I suppose" um, yeah, so what's it like?) and Adam said it's pretty much like this, a bunch of us sitting around not really saying anything. . . . and then one saying suddenly I am going to go for a walk (just so they can get out of there) and everyone deciding they want to go for a walk too. -- We really need to bring horse shoes or something this year so we can at least do something! (I suggested board games too, just in case it rained, but perhaps they get out of the reunion if it rains -- I am getting out of the reunion, I have a wedding that weekend).
After lunch we wandered around a little more ending up at the museum of natural history (which apparently has a triceratops out front with an incredibly detailed butthole -- so I hear). It was an interesting little museum and it definitely took the pressure off everyone trying to talk/accept silence :). On the way home we stopped at both East Rock and West Rock -- where I refused to get out and hike because my feet hurt from all our wanderings.
We got home and collapsed, my boy went to the bathroom and his brother said "you know I have to report back to the family about you right? Your boy hasn't told anyone about you and my mother called me and asked me what I knew about SRH and I said all I know is he said they were coming to visit me, he didn't tell me anything more. . . ." I said, well am I going to get a good report? He said yeah, I think so and I said is there anything I can do to earn bonus points? and he just laughed.
We realized that it had been five hours since the diner, so we decided to go to texas roadhouse. Yes, I would like to get on my high horse about chain restaurants. Yes, I would like to say I don't like it, that I hate the kitschy atmosphere and the unimaginative food but gosh darn it, I LOVE the cinnamon butter and the rolls and honestly, the meat is really tender. So yes, not terribly brilliant cooking, but good.
I called to invite my childhood friend and she gracefully bowed out (except for the point where she said TEXAS ROADHOUSE?! SERIOUSLY? THIS IS NOT A JOKE?! -- oh, wait please don't tell them that). We waited for quite some time (the beer cart in the lobby closed before we made it to our table but then we stocked up on the cinnamon butter baby!!! Adam had a blue moon with an orange. I said I'd never heard of that and he said it was the way it was supposed to be. I have always had it with a lemon (in fact tonight I tried it with an orange and I can tell you I like it better with a lemon, it's a stronger flavor).
Anyway, dinner was good and then my boy and I went over to my childhood friend's apt. It was so gorgeous (she mentioned that really I should have a wedding just for the cool presents!). She and her husband have done incredible things with the space and found items they have. They have a pantry to be jealous of (it's California closet-esque). I swear they should publish and interior design book.
The difference between me and my friend and my boy and his brother was striking. Where the two of them had long pauses the two of us had no spaces. I swear that her husband and my boy simply sat there the whole time while the two of us went back and forth. I had such a good time with her reminiscing and chatting about important ministries/recent events in our life. It was late in the night and finally her husband mentioned bed and my boy looked grateful :).
We went back to my boy's brother's house and I set out Easter presents for the both of them. . .
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
Begging Take 2
So I know this isn't fascinating since I still haven't even managed to post about Easter weekend and now it was a month ago and the last two (now three) posts have been about begging, but it's what's on my mind now.
I went to a meeting last night where they were giving us a script (and again I felt like phoebe) to call people and remind them to give to our church's capital campaign (it's a good cause, we haven't changed the roof since the civil war). We are the tail end. People have been calling for the last three months. We get to badger the people who still haven't responded. Of course we aren't telling them that, we're just calling with a friendly reminder. I really do believe that this is a good cause and I believe that it's okay as fellow church goers to nudge people to give. It's just interesting to me right now since I have been thinking about the begging for my walk so much.
It also made me think even harder about whether I should send out the reminder emails to the people that haven't responded to my request for donations for the walk. My boy says he only sends the emails out once and whatever happens happens. He doesn't want to appear to be begging. Project Bread, every time I check my progress, urges me to email the people who haven't responded and ask them to send again. . . . .
I met my first and second goals already, but I am only $80 away from my final goal and there are 40 people who haven't responded yet. I kind of want to send them an email saying for less than the price of a cup of Starbucks if you band together you can help me make the $500 goal! Then I think of how it's begging and I chicken out. Anyway, last night's meeting made me think about it even more.
I have decided to tackle my church calls tonight. We'll see how I feel about sending a reminder email out after that :).
Ooh, and in related news, my roomie and I were at the bar near my office for a beer before our meeting and a guy at the bar started talking to us -- he offered us shots, but we declined telling him we were on our wary to church. He asked us more about our church/meeting etc. and we explained and he gave us $10 to put towards our capital campaign. I like the idea of just going to bars and getting the equivalent of two shots worth of money to put towards the capital campaign -- maybe I should have asked HIM to support the walk for hunger :).
http://www.projectbread.org/goto/get_bitter
I went to a meeting last night where they were giving us a script (and again I felt like phoebe) to call people and remind them to give to our church's capital campaign (it's a good cause, we haven't changed the roof since the civil war). We are the tail end. People have been calling for the last three months. We get to badger the people who still haven't responded. Of course we aren't telling them that, we're just calling with a friendly reminder. I really do believe that this is a good cause and I believe that it's okay as fellow church goers to nudge people to give. It's just interesting to me right now since I have been thinking about the begging for my walk so much.
It also made me think even harder about whether I should send out the reminder emails to the people that haven't responded to my request for donations for the walk. My boy says he only sends the emails out once and whatever happens happens. He doesn't want to appear to be begging. Project Bread, every time I check my progress, urges me to email the people who haven't responded and ask them to send again. . . . .
I met my first and second goals already, but I am only $80 away from my final goal and there are 40 people who haven't responded yet. I kind of want to send them an email saying for less than the price of a cup of Starbucks if you band together you can help me make the $500 goal! Then I think of how it's begging and I chicken out. Anyway, last night's meeting made me think about it even more.
I have decided to tackle my church calls tonight. We'll see how I feel about sending a reminder email out after that :).
Ooh, and in related news, my roomie and I were at the bar near my office for a beer before our meeting and a guy at the bar started talking to us -- he offered us shots, but we declined telling him we were on our wary to church. He asked us more about our church/meeting etc. and we explained and he gave us $10 to put towards our capital campaign. I like the idea of just going to bars and getting the equivalent of two shots worth of money to put towards the capital campaign -- maybe I should have asked HIM to support the walk for hunger :).
http://www.projectbread.org/goto/get_bitter
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