Step 1: Wake up.
Step 2: Go to work.
Step 3: Get into multiple arguments at work due to a total lack of communication (re: I'm the last one to know about anything).
Step 4: Stay at work late every night because of last minute projects and to correct mistakes due to lack of communication.
Step 5: On Wednesday, while attempting to pay for lunch, discover you're a victim of credit fraud. Again.
Step 6: Spend fifteen minutes in line at bank because the person at the head of the line needs a translator.
Step 7: Get back to the office where everyone is ready to pounce, wondering where the hell you've been, there are multiple emergencies.
Step 8: Stay three hours later than scheduled due to lack of planning & indecision of the higher-ups.
How to recover from a shitty week.
Step one: Spend five minutes at the bank to resolve the credit issue.
Step two: Enjoy and savor the lunch you jumped through hoops to get.
Step three: Spend Thanksgiving & Black Friday with friends.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Sunday, November 23, 2008
30
Thanks for coming, everyone. You have no idea how much it means to me.(Sorry for the poor quality. I forgot to change the settings.)
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Particle board
Who the fuck ever heard of a particle board toilet seat?
Go ahead and laugh. It's okay.
Go ahead and laugh. It's okay.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Bittersweet (links abound)
One step forward.
President Barack Hussein Obama
Four steps back:
Arkansas
California
Florida
Arizona
To all of our LGBT friends, brothers, and sisters out there, I'm sorry.
To the rest of you, go here:
Human Rights Campaign
President Barack Hussein Obama
Four steps back:
Arkansas
California
Florida
Arizona
To all of our LGBT friends, brothers, and sisters out there, I'm sorry.
To the rest of you, go here:
Human Rights Campaign
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Ow ow ow ow.
The last wisdom tooth is making its presence known. I can't sleep. Calls will be made once places open up. The sooner this is dealt with, the better.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
Sinking ship
Can't sleep...
There are quite a few things that are my fault; hence the self-hatred. I figured that part out a long time ago, and talked about it here.
There are things that are not my fault; hence the hatred of everyone that caused them.
These are no-brainers.
In a recent (and deleted) post, my anger issues came to light. A day was spent dwelling on it all, thoughts of "maybe he's right, maybe everything is my fault. There's only one way to take care of that..."
Recognizing that jumping in front of a train was not the way to think, I called up the therapist.
The offending post and all of the comments were shown and analyzed. "We've got our work cut out for us!"
I laughed.
"That's a good sign."
It's safer to be anxious than angry, because being angry is like being my dad. I'm terrified at the idea of becoming anything like him. It's why I don't drink - that's one more way to lose control. We got A LOT of material out of that post, but anger is going to be the primary focus for now.
There's also a whole bunch of "mind-reading", assuming what others are thinking of me in a given situation, most of it leaning towards negative. Being mindful of mind-reading will help change all that.
Meanwhile, I took last week off - a much needed vacation. There's really nothing like a bad cold to throw off all your plans. Museum trips will have to wait for another time. Time was spent reformatting my computer or sleeping. One of the hard drives has been fried to the point where no computer recognizes it. All of my artwork, photos, reference, ebooks, and the last few episodes of Doctor Who are pretty much gone. I'm now saving money to have it all recovered. This could take a while...
The previous weekend was spent in Teaneck, helping Morts move stuff around in his new house. They've got a shrub of mint growing in the back yard, which I find much more interesting than the pear tree.
I got a big gut-laugh when the gal that dumped me last year (pool-playing veggie) showed up in the queue of "people you'll like" on a personals site. Er, no. We met through a different site, and had a few good times, but...no.
Regarding the title of this post, things at work are getting more surreal. The art director is leaving for a job in Minnesota on Wednesday. I'm trying to stay positive, but every fiber is screaming "ABANDON SHIP!" If we lose any more people in the creative department, we won't be able to function.
There are quite a few things that are my fault; hence the self-hatred. I figured that part out a long time ago, and talked about it here.
There are things that are not my fault; hence the hatred of everyone that caused them.
These are no-brainers.
In a recent (and deleted) post, my anger issues came to light. A day was spent dwelling on it all, thoughts of "maybe he's right, maybe everything is my fault. There's only one way to take care of that..."
Recognizing that jumping in front of a train was not the way to think, I called up the therapist.
The offending post and all of the comments were shown and analyzed. "We've got our work cut out for us!"
I laughed.
"That's a good sign."
It's safer to be anxious than angry, because being angry is like being my dad. I'm terrified at the idea of becoming anything like him. It's why I don't drink - that's one more way to lose control. We got A LOT of material out of that post, but anger is going to be the primary focus for now.
There's also a whole bunch of "mind-reading", assuming what others are thinking of me in a given situation, most of it leaning towards negative. Being mindful of mind-reading will help change all that.
Meanwhile, I took last week off - a much needed vacation. There's really nothing like a bad cold to throw off all your plans. Museum trips will have to wait for another time. Time was spent reformatting my computer or sleeping. One of the hard drives has been fried to the point where no computer recognizes it. All of my artwork, photos, reference, ebooks, and the last few episodes of Doctor Who are pretty much gone. I'm now saving money to have it all recovered. This could take a while...
The previous weekend was spent in Teaneck, helping Morts move stuff around in his new house. They've got a shrub of mint growing in the back yard, which I find much more interesting than the pear tree.
I got a big gut-laugh when the gal that dumped me last year (pool-playing veggie) showed up in the queue of "people you'll like" on a personals site. Er, no. We met through a different site, and had a few good times, but...no.
Regarding the title of this post, things at work are getting more surreal. The art director is leaving for a job in Minnesota on Wednesday. I'm trying to stay positive, but every fiber is screaming "ABANDON SHIP!" If we lose any more people in the creative department, we won't be able to function.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Friday, September 05, 2008
Balance, Isolation, and Separation from the Self
I had one hell of a therapy session this week, wherein the therapist so completely outlined the problems that I nearly cried.
"I don't fit in anywhere." - Bill Hicks.
As far back as I can remember, I've always felt like an outsider looking in and wondering why. The consequences of attempting to be "in" only reinforced the original notion. Opening up to others often resulted in judgment, ridicule, and embarrassment. There was nowhere that I felt safe. Not even with family.
I haven't exactly hidden Dad's alcoholic, violent past, but it's not something I voluntarily talk about. When asked why I didn't tell anyone about it, at the time, I assumed it was a normal thing. I had nothing to compare my experiences to. Early on, it was understood that almost everything on television was fantasy. He never left a mark, so even if I did tell anyone, there would be no evidence. I also never made the connection between alcohol and violence until much later.
Not having an explanation of why it was happening, I rationalized that I must have done something very bad, that I must be a horrible person, not worthy of happiness, love, or life.
It never occurred to me that Mom would try (or should have tried) to protect me. I assumed that she felt the same way, but she never acted like it. Somehow I could tell that she was afraid, too.
So I lived with the fear of getting throttled at home and at school.
In school, the contradictory responses of classmates was too confusing. The weird, slow kid who just wants to be left alone got picked on just for that. When he opens up and tries to play in their reindeer games, he gets picked on.
I decided it would be easier getting picked on for the former instead of the latter. What they don't know won't hurt me. Either way, my peers confirmed what Dad had taught me to suspect about myself, that I wasn't good enough*.
* - "I'm not good enough", a core belief revealed two sessions ago.
What exacerbated things was being a half-generation older or younger than most family members. There's one cousin who's my age, but she lives half a continent away, and we're so dissimilar, you'd never believe we're related. I spent most family gatherings in a separate room, escaping from life in comics; reading, writing or drawing them. At the time, the political discussions among the adults bored me, as did the Barbie-playing crew of kids.
My sister didn't help things, either.
When she was a toddler, she annoyed the hell out of me. She'd jump up & down in her crib, keeping me awake at night. I'd be miserable at school the next day.
How could you tell the difference?
Yeah, yeah. Funny.
Then we moved and got separate rooms, and I became more protective of her, as big brothers are wont to do. And as the baby of the family, she was spared most of the punishments, despite being the troublemaker. But as she got older, she became shallow and self-centered. She began to resent my existence. Erin went as far as to say that she was embarrassed by me. I gave up on being a brother to her.
---
"Why haven't you told your family about being in therapy?"
Because they have so much, too much to worry about as it is.
"Did you hear the words you just said? You've written yourself out of your own family. You believe you're not worth the trouble of your own parents' love."
---
"Do your friends know about what your father did?"
Some do.
"What does it feel like to tell them."
It's strange. I have to separate myself from it so I don't re-live it as I tell them.
"You become an outsider in your own life so you don't feel anything. And I don't think you do it in just that kind of situation. Over the past few weeks, I've noticed that you censor yourself to a degree. You're trying to balance how much of the inner and outer You to reveal, because that fear of judgment and rejection is overwhelming. You've been doing this your whole life; it must be exhausting! I can see your body is reacting to telling me all this -- "
(At this point in the session, I'm seated in a quasi-fetal position. Still upright, but very tense and somewhat curled up.)
" -- and I want to know what you're feeling now."
Fear, anger, remorse, lonely, tired, sad.
"I don't fit in anywhere." - Bill Hicks.
As far back as I can remember, I've always felt like an outsider looking in and wondering why. The consequences of attempting to be "in" only reinforced the original notion. Opening up to others often resulted in judgment, ridicule, and embarrassment. There was nowhere that I felt safe. Not even with family.
I haven't exactly hidden Dad's alcoholic, violent past, but it's not something I voluntarily talk about. When asked why I didn't tell anyone about it, at the time, I assumed it was a normal thing. I had nothing to compare my experiences to. Early on, it was understood that almost everything on television was fantasy. He never left a mark, so even if I did tell anyone, there would be no evidence. I also never made the connection between alcohol and violence until much later.
Not having an explanation of why it was happening, I rationalized that I must have done something very bad, that I must be a horrible person, not worthy of happiness, love, or life.
It never occurred to me that Mom would try (or should have tried) to protect me. I assumed that she felt the same way, but she never acted like it. Somehow I could tell that she was afraid, too.
So I lived with the fear of getting throttled at home and at school.
In school, the contradictory responses of classmates was too confusing. The weird, slow kid who just wants to be left alone got picked on just for that. When he opens up and tries to play in their reindeer games, he gets picked on.
I decided it would be easier getting picked on for the former instead of the latter. What they don't know won't hurt me. Either way, my peers confirmed what Dad had taught me to suspect about myself, that I wasn't good enough*.
* - "I'm not good enough", a core belief revealed two sessions ago.
What exacerbated things was being a half-generation older or younger than most family members. There's one cousin who's my age, but she lives half a continent away, and we're so dissimilar, you'd never believe we're related. I spent most family gatherings in a separate room, escaping from life in comics; reading, writing or drawing them. At the time, the political discussions among the adults bored me, as did the Barbie-playing crew of kids.
My sister didn't help things, either.
When she was a toddler, she annoyed the hell out of me. She'd jump up & down in her crib, keeping me awake at night. I'd be miserable at school the next day.
How could you tell the difference?
Yeah, yeah. Funny.
Then we moved and got separate rooms, and I became more protective of her, as big brothers are wont to do. And as the baby of the family, she was spared most of the punishments, despite being the troublemaker. But as she got older, she became shallow and self-centered. She began to resent my existence. Erin went as far as to say that she was embarrassed by me. I gave up on being a brother to her.
---
"Why haven't you told your family about being in therapy?"
Because they have so much, too much to worry about as it is.
"Did you hear the words you just said? You've written yourself out of your own family. You believe you're not worth the trouble of your own parents' love."
---
"Do your friends know about what your father did?"
Some do.
"What does it feel like to tell them."
It's strange. I have to separate myself from it so I don't re-live it as I tell them.
"You become an outsider in your own life so you don't feel anything. And I don't think you do it in just that kind of situation. Over the past few weeks, I've noticed that you censor yourself to a degree. You're trying to balance how much of the inner and outer You to reveal, because that fear of judgment and rejection is overwhelming. You've been doing this your whole life; it must be exhausting! I can see your body is reacting to telling me all this -- "
(At this point in the session, I'm seated in a quasi-fetal position. Still upright, but very tense and somewhat curled up.)
" -- and I want to know what you're feeling now."
Fear, anger, remorse, lonely, tired, sad.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Magnificent
My clearly insane twin sister Jerry Sizzler (three sequential links, click each of them!) - er, my friend Francis has a few blomics to share. Naturally, I love the Darwinism one the best.
http://swingshiftstudios.blogspot.com/
http://100bad.blogspot.com/
http://darwinismonline.blogspot.com/
http://mysupalife.blogspot.com/
http://swingshiftstudios.blogspot.com/
http://100bad.blogspot.com/
http://darwinismonline.blogspot.com/
http://mysupalife.blogspot.com/
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