ammogirl

***Oh my GOD you guys, do you know what sucks worse than anything?  When you have written a post but instead of hitting "save" you somehow hit "new post" and everything you have written…poof.  So, because I don’t feel like typing anymore, for your pleasure, here is the mysterious post I published and then took down before anyone saw it.  It’s crap, really, it’s silly when I try to be introspective, and the little inspirational bit at the end…gah!  In my defense, it’s a valid point I’m trying to make, meaning, my heart is in the right place, it’s just buried in a load of muck, and it’s up to you to wade through and find it.***   

People can be divided up into three groups: those who try on silly hats and sunglasses in a store, those who laugh with those people, and those who think you’re just dumb for doing stuff like that.  That’s my opinion, anyway. 

I don’t understand those people in the third group.  I don’t understand why people WANT to be serious.  Being serious is not mutually exclusive to being successful, or smart.  It doesn’t endow you with more common sense.  It doesn’t make you better in bed, it doesn’t give you a better house, it doesn’t make you richer, or more environmentally friendly, or more mature.  Being serious will not guarantee ANY of those things.  However, it WILL guarantee that people will find you boring.  I’m sorry, but that’s the truth.

I know, instinctively, when I have encountered someone who will think I’m flighty, silly, shallow, immature, incapable, irresponsible - any or all of those words that reflect so poorly and so incorrectly on my true self.  They smother me with puzzled looks and disapproving glances, and I find myself in dire straits: anxious, nervous, short-tempered.  I am realizing that I am a million synonyms for the word fragile.  I don’t want to be this way, so easily bent, but I am.  It hurts me to think someone would condemn or ridicule me for seeing all the sunshine in my life. 

You would think I would learn my lesson, and try to reign myself in.  That I would try to act differently.  But I can’t.  I see things differently than those people.  I hear things differently.  My world is bright, and I want them to see that, to understand, to laugh.  So I pick myself up, and I try again.  Sometimes it’s like throwing myself against a wall of glass, one that they’ve strengthened with their disdain and righteousness. 

If you died today, would you rather have people laugh with your memory, or talk about how serious you were?  "That <x>, he was so…well…okay so…there was that time when…crap.  He was serious.  That’s about it."  Now, not that I plan on dying anytime soon, but when I do…I doubt anyone will be discussing my serious side.

So.  You guys.  If you can’t find any brightness in your life, look somewhere else.  Looking forward is good, but sometimes you gotta look cross-eyed, too.  And if it gets too bright, go to Target, and put on the most ridiculous pair of sunglasses you can find…it will make you feel better.

Auf Wiedersehen!!!

Greg from Flattire asked for a picture of my fabulouso countdown calendar in my comments the other day, because I must have made it sound as if I had the mad creative skilz or something. 

Well, I don’t:

You guys, that’s it.  Now, there is different sayings on each page, and I cut the red pieces out as wacky as I could, (except for this one, which is a rectangle.  Not wacky.) but pretty much, it’s a first grade art project.

The happy face, on the other hand, is genius.  There are four: happy, frowny, indifferent-y, and cranky.  They all have magnets on them, and I post them on the front of my desk, so when people come to bug me, they know what they are getting themselves into.  I used to have full size handmade ones in pink and green highlighter,  but when Matt left for Guam, I stole these from him.  (He totally copied me, by the way, it was MY IDEA FIRST, MATT)  Anyway, these ones are just so much more…professional.  I like to put the happy out, and then when people come back to ask me something, I just look at them silently and steadily and with one hand reach over my desk and replace the happy with the cranky.  It’s really a lot of fun.  And, you know, like I said, professional.

Today, though, was definitely a full-on cranky face day.  Three weeks out and my nerves are starting to kick in, making me totally anxious about the move.  I think of a hundred things to do, right when I’m trying to sleep.  Seriously.  I go through the day barely keeping my eyes open, but the minute I lay down in bed, my heart starts pounding like I just ran a damn race, and there’s like 3762 thoughts going on in my head.  Do you know how bad it sucks to hear and feel your heart pounding in not only your chest but your ears and stomach as well?  And to worry about things like CAT LITTER?  And I try to lay still and quiet but I am TENSE and FULL OF ENERGY and WIDE AWAKE even though I’m not, and finally I have to say to my thoughts, STOP.  STOP NOW until it actually works.  Of course, while I’m waiting for it to work, I start worrying about how LONG it’s taking to work.  Eventually I do fall asleep, but did I mention I’ve been dreaming of kittens lately?  Yes. And do you know what kittens need?  Cat litter.  Lots of it.  Cat litter is invading my mind.  Cat litter is the harbinger of doom.  I will die an untimely death, and that death will be caused by cat litter.  I will lose my mind soon, and when they put me in the asylum, I will draw picture after picture of cat litter, and at random intervals, will just point at one of those pictures and start shrieking until they sedate me and place me in the straitjacket.  It’s true.  Just wait and see.

Anyway, all this not sleeping has made me cranky.  And…weird. 

So.

Auf Wiedersehen!!!!

Do you think it odd that this morning the guy in front of me ordered an omelet with tomatoes, jalapenos, onions, ham and cheese, but when I ordered scrambled eggs with tomatoes, jalapenos and green peppers, he turned to me and said "Wow, you like your eggs hot, huh?  I just couldn’t do it.  Too spicy for me."?  Do you think you would’ve found yourself looking directly and pointedly at his omelet (which was slightly different than my scrambled eggs, yes, but most definitely included jalapenos, WHICH HE ASKED FOR, using that particular word: jalapeno) and thinking, "Hmmm."?  If you are anything like me, that’s what you would have done.  Or thought.  Anyway, I wanted to point out the obvious to him, that his omelet was going to be spicy whether he could ‘do it’ or not, because HELLO, jalapenos, but instead sort of nodded and looked the other way.  As one does, when confronted with odd situations. 

However, when I sat down at work to eat my spicy eggs, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.  Do you think he thought the GREEN peppers were the spicy ingredient?  Was it the word pepper?  Has he spent his life reading "jalapeno" in the silly way people say it some times - ja-LAP-en-oh - and that when he said "hal-la-PAIN-nyohs" it meant he was asking for the "bell" type of pepper?  I mean, I hope not, because that would be really…ohhhhhh…dumb.  But my eggs! Were! No! Spicier! Than! His!  You guys, I just don’t know.  Life’s mysteries, I guess. 

Unfortunately, I didn’t get much time to either ponder this mystery OR enjoy the ultra-fiery, super-inferno-ey, devastatingly spicy eggs that initiated it because…ughhh.  See, when you are used to working with men, but find yourself suddenly in charge of a whole bunch of women?  The DRAMA.  Oh lord…the drama.  And I am just NOT used to dealing with it.  Until I got here, I’ve always worked with only one, maybe two other women at a time.  Not here at Kunsan, though.  To illustrate: right now our flight has approximately 175 people.  Eight of us are women.  Three of them work for me, in my shop of only seven people.  You guys, I am not good at The Maths, but I’m pretty sure that equals 50% of the flight’s women in one shop.  You know what else that equals?  A lot of drama.  I had not one but TWO closed door meetings, one with random person, the other with my BOSS, concerning one of these females that works for me.  Unfortunately, by the end of the day, it also included the OTHER girls that work for me too, and while I am generally quite fond of the people that work for me, I find myself feeling…much older than them sometimes.   

I made a cute little countdown calendar for the front of my desk today, in between closed door meetings.  It’s amazing what you can do with red construction paper, white printer paper, a black sharpie, a glue stick and motivation.  Some of the guys I am leaving here with made fun of me but I know they were just secretly jealous.  This countdown calendar is just for duty days, but if it included regular days too, it would read: 25.

Kari - good luck today, friend.  I’ll be thinking of you.

Auf Wiedersehen!!!