Hello...this is Company

dear misery,
you my dear are not doing something you ever wanted to do, don't find personally challenging, you aren't currently aspiring to any new goals that I know of, and wonder whether that is making you unhappy...I feel as though I am talking to myself. Of course being unfulfilled in something you spend more than 80% of your time doing must decrease your self-respect, self-interest, and self-motivation. Your self-respect is something that is constantly going to be reassessing itself, and because your growth is in large part nothing more than what you do, to the extent you aren't achieving anything that you are proud of, very unlikely to be rolling in the self respect. Similarly, self-interest...you have decided to take the monumental task of paying off your student loans...because you aren't developing any additional thinking abilities, or other such skill in which you could be more introspective about, you simply rehash the same question...does this job suck? Yes, but I'm still in it, so maybe the suckiness is really me...all of which is simply ridiculous, but understandable. Finally self-motivation, you are so mired in the shittiness which is your day to day job, (I feel I can say that as I have had the same job), that there is probably only enough energy there to wake up and continue. Without starting new things, or having larger sources of energy, I think it is obvious that self-motivation at this point will be hard come by which leads again to a loss of self respect. So yes...I think it is your job that sucks, but unfortunately, it has the negative counter effect of reflecting such suckiness in the draining out of your life energies.

Did I mention my brother today asked me how you were, and said at the wedding, he thought you seemed really sad and tired and energy-less? We need to fix this little trtl...I can't have you being a sad energy less trtl, you need something. Go see a doctor and tell them to fix you....

Blind Misery Better?

As you know, Fure-Kitten recently pointed out that I only talk about work in order to amp myself up for something I hate. This was sadly (at least partly) true. My therapist has pointed out before that the reason I'm not well-focused at work may be because my job sucks and not anything mysterious about me. (Can't she allow me some mystery, really?) I'm always thinking, "My job doesn't suck. I suck." But more and more I'm thinking my job sucks. (Don't get me wrong. I still suck on many fronts. My job is apparently just sucking back.)

Whether this is a good or bad turn of events, in my mind, is a matter of how it helps me -- can I slog through better if I admit I'm miserable or better if I pretend I'm not? It seems like the obvious answer is to pretend I'm not, but then I'm left wondering all the time, "Why can't I pull myself away from celebrity gossip and work? What's wrong with me?" With my new-found hate, I'd be like, "Because this job is ass. Now get back to work." Or I'd work the same amount and be extra-miserable. Not sure which.

I will admit misery and see how that goes... will report on improvements or disprovements...

Acetaminophen? You'll see the medicine!

I was definitely never told I could be anything I wanted. My dad, believing there was no way I'd graduate high school, told me at about 10 years old that he'd buy me any car I wanted when I graduated. I reminded him at about 17. He denied the conversation ever happened. I was bitter, and became an astronaut-ballerina-medieval-warrior to show him I could achieve anything. Turns out I don't like space, dancing, or sword-fighting, so who showed who after all? (Currently coding documents related to space, dancing, and sword-fighting. Unhappy with life. Dad was right; should have become plumber.)

Other people's parenting is atrocious. And I'm pretty sure we're always right when we realize that. The only bad parenting we'll be blind to is our own. But we'll be right that the neighbors spoil, beat, neglect, and overall doom their children. So what I mean is, it's fair to judge because they actually DO suck. As for your own kids, well, that's a lost hope really.

I ate Chinese food for lunch with Chris. It tasted delicious, and I only ate like 4/5 of it, which is pretty amazing for me/Piggy-Tertl. I had a scrambled-egg-and-cheese on muffin for breakfast, and I ate it all, and it was pretty awesome. I had Wheat Chubs and cheese cubes for snack; they would have been delicious, but I wasn't really hungry. For snack later I will have apple. Its deliciousness remains to be seen.

I am going to begin a Kabbalah class tomorrow. It goes for six weeks. Look at me, becoming more ascetic. Acidic. Astringent. Strident. Stridex. Zanax. Zephir. More fear. Torpor.

Parenting-Shmarenting I want to be a rock star

It seems to me that everytime I see a parent parenting,...I always thinks...hmmm...I would do X or Y differently. I wonder if they think the same thing or if I am simply overly judgmental??? I wonder if when I have kids, Trtl will think...oh man that Sqrl should invest in some kind of procreation-stoppers, b/c her parenting is just rotten!

Ugh......my computer is full of cosmo girl and Hannah Montana pop-ups. SqrlLvr is doing a paper on the tween market, and it is really interesting. The idea is that back in the day of the Spice Girls, strong girls was the media message--i.e. girl power--if you work hard you can achieve your dreams. Now though, its not just strong girls, it's famous girls...e.g. girls who are powerful are those that become so through fame, like being an actress or a singer. So now the marketing suggests...you too could become a famous american idol. he of course says it much better, but it is really interesting to me. Dreams are now being based on reaching a goal where talent or "who you know" becomes the line of demarcation and not hardwork.
My nieces can obviously become whatever they want, in the realm of doctor lawyer, teacher, mechanic (which would be nice), but are parents now telling their kids that they can be rock stars, or famous actresses, b/c if that is the case, it seems to me that there is much less likelihood of that, and what does that do to a child's dreams, when she realizes that her dreams aren't really reasonable. This seems different than the astronaut career of my childhood which while unlikely was possible provided genetic mutations in my eyes didn't occur, I mean monkeys had gone to space, and if I was willing to put in lots of time, I could be the first Sqrl there. I of course was not willing to put in the time, and thus ended that dream. An actress or rockstar, or basketball player on the other hand, seems much less in reach and much much more likely to escape the grasp of even the hardest working person if they lack the talent--AND I DO DAMN THEM!!

Planes Trains and Video Games

Dear ML--I agree with the hidden feelings TRTL elsewhere expresses about those chain letters, why does someone who allegedly thought of you as a friend think it is appropriate to bury you under the obligation of forwarding a chain letter so you aren't cursed with some awful malady such as bad luck which is essentially square one before you got the damn thing in the first place. I certainly don't believe in it, nevertheless, I looked again at my answers and thought about sending them on...I just don't want to encourage that behavior. After SqrlLvr left this morning, I went to the cabinet to get some cereal. We have three bowl type options, and I pulled my favorite down from the shelf -- inside that bowl was a note that said, "I love you cereal - head", now this certainly spells out my predictability, but nevertheless, I plucked out the post-it note, and then decided to eat SqrlLvr's favorite cereal rather than mine. :) Also in the spirit of being not quite so predictable I quickly snacked on a chocolate chip cookie remaining from my weekend travel. I love gift giving -- trying to think of something that someone wants and plucking it up from the grasps of another e-bayer--but only when I am choosing to do so. I.e. only when it isn't forced upon me by Hallmark. B/c really things like assistant-day are not enjoyable holidays.

Ok, well this word was bugging me all weekend, but now I know what it means....I'm off to do some yoga and become more ascetic.

as·cet·ic /əˈsɛtɪk/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[uh-set-ik] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation –noun

1.	a person who dedicates his or her life to a pursuit of contemplative ideals and practices extreme self-denial or self-mortification for religious reasons.

2.	a person who leads an austerely simple life, esp. one who abstains from the normal pleasures of life or denies himself or herself material satisfaction.

3.	(in the early Christian church) a monk; hermit.

–adjective Also, as·cet·i·cal.

4.	pertaining to asceticism.

5.	rigorously abstinent; austere: an ascetic existence.

6.	exceedingly strict or severe in religious exercises or self-mortification.

Rub the Genie Lamp

So I took this chain email "personality test." You know, like, describe the following animals and colors, and then it turns out that's how you feel about yourself and premarital sex. So of course the results are ridiculous, but I start to believe them. Well... maybe my life is "salty," and maybe my "twin soul" is... me. That's pretty deep, y'know? And then I'm stuck passing it along to 26 people so that I don't lose the wish I made at the beginning. (I'm pretty savvy. I wished for something lame, knowing that to get my wish I'd have to extend the email chain. Wishes never come free. You gotta rub the genie lamp.) Why do we tend to believe shit like that? If someone just up and told me, "You're life is rather salty, and I believe you are your twin soul," I'd be like, "You're a nice homeless man. Here's a dollar." So why do I believe it because it came in the form of a ridiculous Q-and-A session supposedly endorsed by the Dalai Lama?

Dear God, Please Abolish Gift-Giving Holidays, Kay Thanks.

I ate my Billy-approved breakfast of layers of yogurt, fiber-rich cereal, banana, and berries. It sounded good, but only tasted OK.

Now I'm off to get my secretary a gift certificate to the movies, in honor of "Staff Appreciation Week." Sweet Lord, I'm the worst gift-giver. Not only is it a gift-certificate, which is humiliating enough, but it's not even, like, for a store I know she adores. I just figure everyone likes movies and doesn't like to waste money on them. To top off all this lameness, I didn't even think of it! I stole the idea from another associate! Pathetic, truly. Oh well, it's the thought that counts... unfortunately, I didn't think.

As to gift-giving, I forgot my niece's birthday... after just last December forgetting my other niece's birthday. My nephew's birthday is only days away. I'm thinking I will buy back love with a joint Nintendo Wii gift to them. A game-lovin' office neighbor informs me that Wii is all about games where you use your own body in motion to play the game. That will be great for my nephew, who spends all day indoors with a TV. At least he'll have to swing his own fist at his virtual-enemy. The violence will that bit more real. Good thinking on the part of the responsible aunt. Oh man, I hate gifts.

I wish there were no gift-giving holidays. We could all just give surprise gifts when we felt like it, and we'd all be happier, because surprise gifts are, y'know, surprises, instead of disappointments because you were hoping for something better. I always stress that I failed expectations.

And I got up early...damn

Today my challenge is to get to the airport in one piece with luggage and identification....as I am running late my blogging will have to remain for Monday.

Tomorrow Is the First Day of the Rest of Your Etc. Etc.

Dear Squrl,

Tomorrow we begin upon our very important trek. We will surely conquer and become as Nietzsche's ubermensch. I will begin by following all of "Billy's" directions. (I am loathe to admit which Billy this is in case anyone ever stumbles upon this blog, but I will give a clue: I think he shaves his armpits.)

What will YOU do?


Challange! (said "chal-on-j"!)

Are Placebos Out of Style?

I'm with you. My mom believes she has every side effect of every medication. If she's fat, it's a medication's fault. If she's dizzy, ditto. If she's panicky, same. If she's got a backache, headache, gas, a general feeling of malaise, or the flowers in the front yard are wilting, same. She love, love, loves to read those package inserts that come with your meds. The woman has glaucoma, she's legally blind, and she can't read a single magazine article without falling asleep, but when that 20-page package insert with the tiny print comes into her hot little hands she starts scanning the lines like a kid watching a ping-pong match. And then she has all the symptoms, except death, which is surely around the corner.

All this makes me wonder why the doctor doesn't give her a placebo stating that the side effects are joy for life, energy, thicker hair, more youthful skin, and a flatter tummy. But can you do that anymore? Do disclosure laws allow that? Or would the doctor have to list the ingredients (sugar) and warn, "This pill will do absolutely nothing for you, but may be used as a beverage sweetener."

As to this idea that life passes you by when you sleep, I'm thinking, Wow, I think that's right. That's why I like it so damn much. While the world is swirling in a super-fast blue-and-green frenzy, I'm snug in my beddy, safe and happy. You know when I told you today that nothing makes me happy consistently? I knew I was lying. Sleep is always wonderful.

The Purple Pill

So one must ask the question...particularly when one works with product liability...whether symptoms are accurately diagnosed, or simply overly diagnosed due to the widespread dissemination of symptoms which could in fact be anything or nothing. Case in point...today I settled down for a cat nap around 4:00, (despite waking up at 9:30, yes) but I couldn't sleep...why you may ask? Because I wondered whether I needed to sleep because I was depressed, or whether I was just tired. When I was a kid I would not like taking naps and growing up, this never changed. I didn't like taking naps, b/c I was afraid the world was going to revolve without me, and I never wanted such a thing as that to happen, so in the event tiredness would overcome me, at the first opportunity, my eyes would fly open and there I would be with a slightly sickened-panicky feel wondering if life had passed me by and whether or not I could get it back. Fast forward to now...I still get the panicky feeling that life might pass me by, but unfortunately due to TV, which I have been forced to watch or listen to, now I think an afternoon catnap is a sign of depression. What's more, this thought makes me depressed...not knowing whether I am depressed or not. Which means that my nap is a complete waste of time, and alas....in fact probably counter-productive as it leads me to worrying.

Kids Just Like Ugly

I've read articles claiming that studies reveal that even little, wee, tiny, teeny, smally baby infants understand who's attractive and who's not, and it doesn't matter what culture you take the kid from or what culture's people you show him/her. Infants consistently stare longer at pictures of attractive people. Therefore, children must realize that Barney and Dora are ugly, and just think that's funny. The beginning of cruelty?

Well, on the other hand, those articles said that the main determinant of beauty is symmetry, i.e. that you don't have one eye dopier than the other or one ear lower than the other. Meaning you could fold the face in half lengthwise and get a great matchup. So... considering Barney and Dora are created through very careful costume design and drawing, I bet they have great symmetry. When Dora grows up, even if she is still sorta chubby and giganto-headed, her boobies will match. No way will when one point up and one down or one give in to gravity before the other. And isn't that what beauty is all about?

Teenage Mutant Ninja

How is it that children are so attracted to really ugly cartoons--the TMNT and Barney -- really really ugly, yet children of all ages like them. What is it that makes kids get their idea of aesthetics when they are young yet which change so much in early teenage years. Most cartoon characters are freakish in fact, yet kids love them. It's surprising that new actresses don't look like Dora the Explorer. Instead of having overly-skinny models, we would have encephalitic models. There would have to be head size regulations.