Tag: Asheville

I Woke Up Needing Validation

I woke up very unlike myself.  I woke up needing praise, needing validation, needing an atta girl and there was none to be found.  I woke up needing to be told I’m the awesomest person in the world.  And at 5:30 AM, there was no one around to do that.

Sigh.

So I got on the treadmill and climbed hills for a few minutes, thinking a little accomplishment early in the day would be a great beginning.  I climbed til my ass hurt, but it didn’t do much for me.  I even soaked in a hot bubble bath post-treadmill, and a bubble bath usually fixes everything, but…no.

On the surface, all is well.  Underneath it all, I am unsettled.  Too many things are up in the air and I prefer to be in control, so I think maybe that’s where the nervousness and neediness come into play this morning.  As I sip my requisite Diet Coke, I’m trying to make a mental list of what I am in control of and what I know I’m doing well to see if I can bring myself back to more comfortable footing…

Graduation

My mom got her first college credential last night, crossing the stage in her cap and gown at the Thomas Wolfe Auditorium.  While my mom and I don’t always see things eye to eye in the daily matters of life, I have nothing but pride for her accomplishment.  It’s really cool that she wanted to go to college and see it through at this point in her life as a mother and a grandmother, as a working woman and a wife.  She graduated with honors of course; that’s probably where I get my “is there something higher than an A+ that I could work toward?” ethic in school.  Good job, Mom, bravo!

My mind wandered all over the place during the ceremony.  When my brother wasn’t trying to get me to punch him (I had to scoot over a seat so he’d stop poking me with his elbow on purpose), I was thinking about crossing that same stage a couple times myself.  My high school graduation was in that auditorium.  I remember they made me wear white dress shoes with our pastel graduation gown: ack, white shoes AND a pastel gown, offend the girl in black in every way possible!!!  The shoes were slick on the bottom since they were new; I was worried I was going to bust my clumsy ass (being clumsy and lacking grace has been a lifelong trait, nothing new) in front of everyone, but I made it across the stage and back to my seat safely.  At the end of the ceremony, we all tossed our caps high.  I left mine in the auditorium, no interest in trying to figure out which was mine in the mayhem when I just wanted out of there.  The next afternoon, I went to work at my job in the music and video department of PharMor, and my manager handed me my cap–it had a big note on it from the class clown, such a smartass even to this day: “Hey, found this in my bed this morning…”  What a weasel.  I thought it was funny as hell until I realized my manager thought my classmate really did find it in his bed.

I crossed the same stage again when I got my first college degree in my twenties.  It had been a long, challenging road to get that degree.  I was divorced.  I worked full time, went to school full time and took care of my baby girl in the hours that remained of the day.  I slept very little, more than likely fostering the beginnings of the sleep problems I still have today.  Couldn’t tell you how many times I studied for a test with a baby on my shoulder, usually a sick wailing baby since Minime had about 300 million ear infections when she was tiny…by the time I finished school, she was a sweet little toddler who shouted out “That’s my mommy!” when I stepped up on the stage.  The happy voice of a proud little girl made every part of that hard educational journey worthwhile. 

I know that everyone who crossed the stage last night had challenges and hardships and probably times where they wanted to throw in the towel, drop out of college and forget about it.  It’s above and beyond awesome that they stuck with it, Mom included.  May you all reach every goal you set out to achieve!

this afternoon…

…was one of those kickass afternoons where you get so much done you wonder why you even bothered to show up the rest of the week if all you really needed was today.

It was like I was all jacked up on Red Bull and iced coffee, but without the Red Bull and iced coffee.  I got things scheduled, got issues resolved and actually (gasp!) used the telephone! 

For those that know my work style, I never use the phone if I can help it–my office desk phone ends up in “out” mode for days because I forget to turn it back on, and I like the out mode: straight to voicemail, no ringydingy.  I’m an email or in-person kinda chick for work things.  I either want it in writing, or I want to see you face to face.  I hate playing phone tag! But today, in my hard-working good cheer, I used the phone, and I used it more than once: shocking!

I crossed items off to do lists.  I worked off the tasks on the post-it notes all over my desk.  I made new lists.  I smiled at people.  I visited a few folks and bounced around finishing things.  It was like the tidal wave of energy to finish projects you get right before you go on vacation…only I’m not going on vacation.  Maybe tomorrow at work will be just like a vacation since I was a whirlwind this afternoon… (a girl can dream!)

My birthday!

Sure, my birthday’s not until September 5, but let’s get a plan in place!

Saturday Sept 6, let’s go play paintball that morning.  And that night, let’s go eat copious amounts of food and rock out some serious karaoke—sake, anyone?!  Ooooo and there better be chocolate cake. 

What do I want for my birthday?? Hmmm.  I think I already have what I want most, but it’s in that rent-to-own stage that I blogged about recently– a little confirmation that things are on the right track would be good in time for my birthday, that everyone’s on the same page, that’s always good for the soul.  As for what your hard earned dollars can buy me because I know so many of you are so uncertain, well, bubble bath is an every day must, truffles dusted with cayenne pepper from the Chocolate Fetish and a bottle of something red: a shiraz, syrah or merlot—you can’t go wrong with those things, and using that list as guidance, well, I’m not as hard to please as people imagine.

Let’s start celebrating me now so we don’t pull a party muscle!

Cake hogging weasels

No one shared birthday cake with me!  You’re all a bunch of cake hogging weasels.  WEASELS!

But now that all these birthdays have finally passed, we can start planning MY birthday, oh yes we can!  Cake! Karaoke! Paintball! (Don’t shoot my cake!)  September 5 is the official date, but please be advised that I will start accepting cake, presents and general adoration from this point forward and that it is completely acceptable to celebrate me every single day.

no, you’re wrong!

someone this evening told me that i don’t get along with the former mr. kat 2.0 because he’s my ex-husband and that no one gets along with their ex’s and yaddayadda.

you’re wrongwrongwrong on that count.  first, i can say that the former mr. kat 1.0 and i NEVER EVER fought like i disagree with 2.0, ever.  we never grated on each other’s nerves that way and we still don’t.   2.0 and i are like rival countries or hatfields & mccoys or a pack of dingos at a parakeet farm…and 1.0, while he certainly irked me enough that i divorced him for reasons i shan’t go into at this moment, never waged these battles with me, was not a freakin’ bully, did not find glee in upsetting me.

and furthermore! i am friends (or at least peaceable!) with most of my ex-boyfriends over the years, really.  i can remember why i was into them and put that in front of whatever disaster befell our relationship and just be friends, easy enough.  so it’s not that 2.0 is an ex and thus he’s unworthy of respect or whatever, noooooooo, because that’s not how i roll.  2.0 just knows how to irritate the snot out of me and considers it to be a recreational sport of some kind!  he wants a trophy in pissing me off.  he wants to medal in making me yell.

but! on the bright side, we don’t interact that much any more.  today was more interaction than we’ve had in a while and is a prime example of why i prefer email to in-person discussions with him.  it’s healthier if we just don’t talk right now…kinder, gentler, better that way.

I’m Mad! ARG!

So for those of you who just joined me in the Kat Box, let me bring you up to speed on my relationship with the former Mr. Kat 2.0… He and I do not get along.  We can not engage in the most basic of conversations without it escalating into an argument.  I recognized this gasoline-lit match sort of thing ages ago, and thus I try to keep our interactions brief.  I am generally not rude, I’m just to the point: no details on my personal life, just straight to the facts which are usually revolving around the once or twice a month he wants to hang out with Minime.

I’m glad he wants to do things with Minime every now and then, as that was the only father figure she had in her life for years and years.  Her biological dad, the former Mr. Kat 1.0, has recently pulled himself together and spends time with Minime now, but for years, it was just the now former Mr. Kat 2.0…so I’m cool with them spending time together; it’s a good thing.

But Mr. 2.0 is always trying to be up in my business.  On a recent evening, he called 3 times in 3 minutes, and I missed those calls; he didn’t leave a voicemail message.  He called the next day and asked why I didn’t answer the phone the night before.  I said I didn’t know, that maybe I was in the shower or outside with the dogs or on the treadmill or any number of options where I wouldn’t have my phone in hand, but when I noticed the missed calls, I then saw he didn’t leave a message so I wasn’t too worried about it.  He then asked again if I was in the shower or what.  I said I really didn’t know but felt I’d covered that there are times when I don’t have my phone; he should leave a message if he needs a call back.  That apparently still wasn’t sufficient information because he then wanted to know what I was “really” doing when he called.  Folks, I hope you understand why I lost my temper at that point…I can’t stand to be badgered over something stupid.

Anyway, that sort of round and round and round dialogue is one of the 70 million reasons we don’t get along very well, and it’s why I try to keep our exchanges brief.  I try not to react when I can see him angling for a fight, and somehow, my lack of reaction tends to upset him even more, so he pushes even harder to get me angry.  As is my way, I tend to completely retreat to avoid a conflict, and if he comes after me with still more badgering at that point, yeah, then I s-n-a-p and get pretty scary.  I don’t like it: I don’t like being that angry, and I don’t like being lured into it, tricked into it.

This afternoon, though, I fell right into it; I feel like such a sucker for being baited into an argument…but he started in on his usual prying, and I, as is the norm, stayed guarded…and of course, by not revealing all details of my life to him (this all started over me wearing a certain tshirt), that just encouraged him to keep going, keep nagging, keep prying, keep pushing, until I freakin’ snapped and started yelling at him (Minime, by the way, was in the house and didn’t hear this exchange, thank goodness) in the driveway in front of my neighbors.  As always, he then had to act like I’m mentally defective somehow because I’m suddenly angry, “why are you so angry all the time?”  BECAUSE YOU DELIBERATELY PUSH MY BUTTONS TO GET A REACTION AND WHEN I DON’T GIVE ONE, YOU PUSH AND PUSH UNTIL I FLIP OUT! DON’T BE SURPRISED WHEN I FLIP THE HELL OUT ON YOU BECAUSE IT’S WHAT YOU WANT ME TO DO! I KNOW THIS GAME!!!!!!!! ARG!!!

I ended up leaving the area for a few minutes to collect myself while he kept trying to call my cell phone over and over in that childish way.  I just wanted to regain my cool and move on, but with him, there’s no moving on until he’s done. He wasn’t done, and in fact, he probably still isn’t done, but I’ve turned off the ringer on my phone at this point.   I can’t live that way, I can’t live in anger and stress and strife and grudge-holding and gameplaying every day, so we are divorced.

Egads, I’m just as mad at myself for falling into it as I am at him for being a pain in the ass.  I’m not perfect, I recognize my fault in all that has transpired today.  I know better than to get sucked into that kind of fight and I shouldn’t have let it happen. 

a real thing that happened today

I had some wild children to amuse today but had mucho studying to do…so we ventured out into the world and went to a place that will only be described as incredibly loud yet fun.  Plenty for the wild ones to do while I hit the books.

I took a table and spread out my necessities as the children scampered away: notebook, pen, highlighter, textbooks, ginormous diet Coke.  I focused and was well into a chapter when I felt the table shift as someone sat down opposite me.  Assuming it was one of the wild children (and not hearing any wailing or other disturbances that required my immediate attention), I didn’t look up.  But then, my guest cleared his throat.

I looked up and there was a random dad sitting across from me, a random dad who no doubt was letting his kid(s) be entertained in the same venue.

Random Dad: Hey, whatcha studying?

Unfriendly Me: Errrr. Reviewing cascading style sheets right now.

Random Dad: Oh, really? (Makes face as if he knows what I’m talking about and tries to touch my textbook, which I slide away from his touchyosity) I’ve thought about going back to school.

Unfriendly Me: That’s always a good thing, no matter who you are. (I go back to looking at my book)

Random Dad: It sure is! Man, I loved college! blahblahblahblahblahblahblah (ok, he said actual words here, but I was not listening really and was looking at my book still)  blahblahblahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh yaddayaddayadda yadda blahblahsomethingaboutwherehewenttocollegebackintheday yadda yadda

Unfriendly Me: Yeah, mmmhmmm. (clicking my pen now in frustration)

Random Dad: It’s totally crazy in here!

Unfriendly Me: (silent)

Random Dad: Yeah, so, wow! Yeah, it’s noisy in here! Kids are having fun, but I don’t know how you concentrate in here!

Unfriendly Me: It’s a lot easier to concentrate when no one’s talking to me. (I have now looked up and beamed a steady gaze of evil on my prey)

To say Random Dad scurried away is an understatement.  But thank goodness.   So. 

Dear Random Dad,

when your would-be woo-receiver is clicking her pen so fast it makes sparks, run away please. Run away.  Next time I’ll stick said pen in your hand for trying to touch my textbook.  Oh, and good luck with your woo-pitching; there are some nice, friendly mommies out there–I’m just not one of them by any stretch of the imagination. 

Sincerely, Unfriendly Me

what’s with all the b’days this week…

…somebody better be sharing cake with me, dammit.

Happy Birthday to Spider John, glad surgery went ok & get back to work already!

Happy Bday to Sinderella who hopefully will not lose her glass slipper after the ball.

Happy Bday to Jason, Hairstylist Extraordinaire—I’m pretty sure it’s tradition to give ME a free haircut for your birthday.

Happy Birthday to the Scootster—you get better with age.

and

Happy Birthday to my little brother, not so little anymore, but you’ll always be my baby bro.  You know I’ll make cake for you!

A Fabulous Farewell for The Bean

One of my favorite coworkers is moving away; The Bean has been offered a job that she couldn’t pass up, and so she’s outta here!  Can’t blame her, but I hate it.  It’s such a treat to have coworkers you actually like to see, office buddies that make the whole thing a little more tolerable.  The Bean has an optimistic outlook and good sense of humor, and our office could use heaps of that–we’ll all miss her so much!

Friday night we had a little farewell gathering for The Bean over karaoke.  As many songs as we sang alone or as “The Wild Girls,” as we were dubbed by the DJ, it might as well have been our own private party.  Our posse paid tribute to Billy Idol, Pat Benatar, Wham!, Frank Sinatra, The Clash and everyone in between as we raised our glasses and raised hell.

I have my own repertoire of songs I will sing in public, drunk or completely sober–liquid courage is not required for me to do karaoke, as I’m ready to make an ass of myself 24/7.  I have my karaoke standards that are easy and fun, like “Love Shack” and “Tainted Love.”  Since it was a special evening, I decided to broaden the horizons and select something I would normally never sing outside my car.  I opted for the Violent Femmes’ “Add It Up,” the little ditty that asks “Why can’t I get just one kiss…” and ponders “Why can’t I get just one screw?” and goes on to explore “Why can’t I get just one fuck?”  It was a true crowd pleaser, but whether I’d do it again depends entirely on the crowd, really–I wouldn’t want to roll that one out at an office social or anything (though I have writhed on the floor singing “Like A Virgin” for an office event!).

I hope The Bean enjoyed her shindig.  I know I did, and her beau was a freakin’ hoot and a half!  The Bean’s got some packing to do and some loose ends to wrap up, but before you know it, she’ll have left Western NC for a bigger city and new adventures.  I’ll miss The Bean and her silliness, as well as the wisdom she’s shared with me along the way.  She is one cool chickie, and I wish her a blessing for every time she laughs in a day.  I’ll miss you—-good luck, good things, keep smiling and sharing your spirit everywhere you go, girl!