Unable to Steal Your Soul

Well, I think I have officially commenced my mid-life crisis. I went to Talk Me Down Tuesday this week and then on Wednesday, I went to get my hair done. It seems like a basic thing to get one's hair done, but that is for normal people, not me.  Every appointment is its own adventure.  I go in, I think I know what I want to do and then my stylist, Giraffe Stalker, says those innocent words, "So, what are we thinking?"  And I tell her, "Well, I don't know, I think I want to grow it out..." or "I can't take it anymore, I look like I have Minion Mom hair and I can't take it anymore, cut it off!"  And she will say, "I thought we were growing it out?"  And then I say, "I want to, but I look ridiculous.  I don't want to look ridiculous.  Do you think I should grow it out?  I mean, do you think I look better with long hair anyway?  I mean, what's the point?  You know what? I don't care, cut it off."  She reluctantly agrees knowing that the very next time I come in, we will repeat this conversation.  Now, it's time to talk about the color.  Giraffe Stalker says, "So, are we just going to brighten it up a bit with some blonde?"  Yes, let's keep it blonde and let's brighten it up.  The color is typically the easy part.

This appointment did not stray from the usual conversation.  I said, "Okay, I'm growing it out, this time I mean it, fer reals...unless you think I shouldn't.  I mean, I want to, but what is our exit strategy for this style?  I mean, it's so short now, can I do this and not lose my mind and look hideous?"  Giraffe Stalker assures me we can do this, we just need to grow this part out, keep that part short until the other part gets a little longer and it can be done.  Seems reasonable.  I said, "Well, what if we did something fun with the color so that I was distracted by the color and not by the fact that I look like a homeless person that just crawled out of a dumpster?"  We discussed adding low-lights, we discussed adding a little flair underneath and then somehow magazines came into play and we were looking at pictures to find just the right color for the underneath shade. 

And then it happened.  I didn't mean for it to happen, I don't know where the voice came from.  I don't know which pony voice was juicing up in my head, but I said, "See this color?  I've always wanted to try this color...all over.  Do you think I could pull that off?"  Giraffe Stalker said, "Yes, I think you could.  However, if you really want to do that, you can't just go back to blonde if you don't like it, because if we do, we will fry it...so, you would have to commit...for a while...do you think you can do that?"  I sat there, giddy inside.  The pony voices in my head formed a committee and then a sub-committee and then the one that was likely the ring leader of this whole thing pushed her way to the front and said, "Yes!..I mean, I'm scared, but should I dare? OMG, I want to....but what if I hate it...?" Giraffe Stalker waited patiently as I verbally and mentally processed the decision.  It was just another moment and all the committees finally reached a decision.  The verdict was read and my voice repeated, "Fuck it, let's do it! I've been blonde my entire life, I want to try it!"  I could hear the one scared pony voice in the back of my head.  She was in the back room shaking and weeping, "this is a mistake, you're a blonde, you're going to hate it, then what are we going to do???"  The other pony voices left her and went to celebrate with cake.

I sat there in the chair as my transformation took place.  It just so happened Giraffe Stalker had her lap top open next to her work station and we were streaming that giraffe named April back East that is supposed to have a baby any day now.  How ironic, as I waited for that giraffe to pop out a new life, here I was, going rogue.  Going against every rational thought.  Why was I doing this?  Why did I want to be a Ginger?  Why did I want to depart from who I am inside, which is a sunny, bright, blonde girl?  I mean, the sunny and bright part is an over-dramatization of my personality, but still, you see where I'm going with this.  Was I going to become dark and angry?  Wait...wasn't I already?  Oh yeah.  Okay, well then what in the hell am I worried about, it's just hair? Right?

And so, it happened.

Right after, as soon as I got home.

Two days later in different lighting, less freaked out

 As luck would have it, 99.9% of the friend and acquaintance audience has embraced the change and told me they think I was brave to do it and love it but wondered what prompted it.  Was I in the Fitness Protection Program?  Had I taken a second job as a stripper?  Was I trying to tie-dye all my white towels with pink and red coloring every time I wash and dry my hair? Was I wanting to become more sassy? That one makes me laugh, because, seriously, I've never needed red hair to be sassy. Was I trying to become a ginger and steal souls?  Which, come to find out, since I am not a natural ginger, I am unable to steal souls.  Very upset about this.  The .1% that didn't like it was an older bitter bald guy.  He looked at me, scrunched up his face and said, "I don't like it.  I like it blonde.  I'm sorry."  Funny, I hadn't asked for his opinion. I said, "Well, when I decide to change it back to blonde, I'll come straight over to your desk for your approval."  Whatever.  I didn't do this for approval, I did it for ME.

In the end, the real answer as to why I did it is quite simple.  I'm just a woman who is 45 years old realizing that the time to do random shit like this is now.  What am I waiting for?  Maybe this will be the first of many bold changes in my life.  Maybe taking the plunge into doing something as silly, yet bold, as changing my hair color so drastically is just the kick in the ass I need to take plunges in other places.  Now, don't look for plunging necklines or plunging butt cracks.  No one needs to see that, except Shark Bait and frankly there is no shocking him anymore.  But maybe I'll do something else shocking.  I don't know.  I'm still getting my bearings, it's only been two days.  However, I did send a very snippy instant message to Biker Barbie and she wrote back, "Look here, Missy, just because you have red hair now doesn't mean you get to get sassy with me!"  Well, apparently I have stepped up my sassy game without even realizing it.  Shit, the transformation is happening more quickly and intensely than I had anticipated.  Must be in the chemicals in the coloring...I can't be held responsible.

So, there it is, my little blog about my hair color.  Not epic, but my abbreviated version of how it all went down.  And also, kind of a warning to y'all, I'm feeling a bit bad ass and I think it's time to start acting it again. I've been feeling puny for a while now.  But just wait, I'm going to own every part of this damn hair. 

More to come...

xoxo

Vending Machine Emergency Preparedness

There has been a lot of stress in life lately.  It's been kind of hard to feel like writing or working through it in the blog as I often do.  I also have not really been able to vent about much of it either, which you know Angry Pony LOVES to do.  Angry Pony has actually been pretty  tame for a while now, which saddens me. Just so you know, that Angry Pony still exists, she is in there fighting the fight every day.  I let her out occasionally.  As a matter of fact, she came out to play just the other day...

It was last Friday, to be exact.  I had been given a project to update a spreadsheet that was all about being prepared for an emergency.  I already attend monthly meetings on safety for the building, plus assist with the departmental safety team for our floor.  We've got it covered., or so I thought.  Apparently, there is an emergency preparedness site that also needs all the I's dotted and the T's crossed to make sure we are REALLY ready if shit goes down. This site requires that we fill out this spreadsheet with what we are ready for, what we haven't covered yet and what we are currently working on getting updated.  I saw this spreadsheet and I am certain my eyes rolled back in my head.  I was instantly pissed.  I hate crap like this.  Alas, the boss asked me to do it, so I guess I'll dive in, bad attitude or not.  The emergency preparedness spreadsheet didn't care that I was on the verge of Shark Week.  The emergency preparedness spreadsheet didn't care that I didn't care about all these damn questions.  I threw an internal temper-tantrum, snipped at a few people and then resigned myself to the task at hand (also known as the Administrative Stages of Grief).

I start reading the questions and I am instantly annoyed.  The questions they are asking are redundant and ridiculous.  Look, I get it, being prepared for a major event or even a minor one is important.  I don't mean to take safety lightly.  Really, I don't.  We have actually had a couple of situations come up over the last couple years that have tested our level of preparedness, so know when I vent about the following, it's just venting.  I don't need a lecture on that one time you were stranded in Iceland with only a cigarette lighter and a light jacket, in the dead of winter on Christmas Eve and Santa couldn't see your rescue fire, okay?

Anyway, I'm checking the stupid boxes and having a full on pissed off conversation with myself at my desk when I get to some really stupid shit. 

• "Estimated time to make a decision?"  Is this a real fucking question?  I don't know?  Which people am I trapped with?  Like, someone with common sense or Betty White who is in need of a Snickers bar before she can decide whether to pick her nose or wipe it on her sleeve?  How can I possibly answer that question? Just the time it was taking me to answer the questions was a clear indicator of how screwed we are in the event of an actual emergency.

• "Do you have someone appointed to paying attention to communicating about the evacuation?"  Seriously?  It's bad enough trying to find someone that pays attention on the daily, now you have limited me to the people that just happen to be around at the time of an emergency that I don't know when it will be?  You don't normally plan emergencies, right?  I have to assign someone to pay attention?  We are as good a dead.

•  "How long will it take you to get everyone paper order forms?"  Wait, what kind of emergency are we talking about here?  I mean, it's an emergency, but my people are still taking calls?  What kind of an emergency is it?  Like, we are out of toilet paper in the bathroom?  The power is out and we are running on a generator? Or, was the city just destroyed by a massive Tsunami?  How long will it take me to make copies?  I don't know...am I having to hand write them with my bad hand because the good one was blown off in an explosion?  Did all the paper get blown up?  Am I re-assembling sheets of paper?  Are we taking orders via chisel and stone?  How can I truthfully answer that question?

• "How long will it take you to notify contacts that the lines are down?"  Stop.  If the lines are down, how in the hell are we going to tell anyone?  Smoke signal? Pony Express? By boat?  I'm so confused.

And then there was this question, the granddaddy of them all...which is what inspired me to get out of my chair, walk in my bosses office and ask her just what in the hell kind of bullshit am I filling out.  The question is, "Who is in charge of contacting the vending machine company?"  I looked at my boss and proceeded to go on a rant.  She just sat back and enjoyed the show because she knew what you all know...there was no stopping this train from derailing, so the best thing to do is let it go and look for survivors later. 

I assumed the stance, I got the angry, crazy eyes and warmed up my poking finger and I said something like, "Can you please tell me why in the hell I am filling out and emergency preparedness spreadsheet that is asking about who is going to call the vending machine guy?? Like, I need to assign someone to call the vending machine guy in the case of a catastrophic event?  Are you shitting me? If the BIG ONE hits us and the roads are demolished, do you think the vending machine company is going to beam Scotty down here to give us Sour Patch Kids and Cool Ranch Doritos???!!!"  My boss remained calm.  She said, "Now, this isn't necessarily for a catastrophic event.  Say, for example we have a sniper on the roof or across the street and no one can leave, having those vending machines full would be important.  And sleeping bags and water..." I cut her off and continued in angry disbelief, "SO YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT IF THERE IS A FREAKING SNIPER ON THE ROOF, JAMES BOND THE VENDING MACHINE GUY IS GOING TO COME IN HERE??!!! I DON'T THINK SO! What are they gonna do, put a Kevlar vest on him, some sort of helmet and a bullet proof box of Twix, say a little prayer, slap him on the ass and send his dumb ass over the skybridge?  Are you kidding me???!!!  Oh, sorry ma'am, your son died trying to get Twizzlers and M&M's to the hostages in the Glass Palace.  I don't think so.  NO ONE is coming for us, I don't care if Betty White is in here needing a Snickers, it ain't happening! I've seen the vending machine guy, he ain't that tough."  I stood there wild-eyed with an elevated heart rate totally fired up.  My boss just busted up laughing.  She said, "Okay, maybe that is a bad example, but there may be times when having that vending machine full is critical."  I said, "Well, what if no one can get to us?  You think Sodexho is going to helicopter something in?  I think the vending machine company is going to have bigger problems than our need for chocolate.  Besides, if the BIG ONE hits Seattle, we are good as dead.  This building is coming down on us and we are going to get squished and we are dying here, do you hear me? Dying here. Guts squished out everywhere."

I think my boss may have sensed she was not going to win this battle. She said, "Maybe we should work on this together on Monday when you've had some time out of the office."

Subsequently, Monday came and went.  I never saw the spreadsheet again.  I believe she filled it out on her own and sent it in.  I think it's safe to say that my name is likely listed as the person that is going to contact the vending machine guy if we do actually have a disaster.  I'm probably also the one that is assigned to paying attention.  I just have a feeling about it.

Anyway, I  hope all of you have considered these things at your respective places of employment.  What I would suggest is finding out who is in charge of the vending machine and befriending them, because that, my friends, is how you are going to survive a major event.  Just saying.

Be safe out there...and carry an extra Twix with you in your purse or backpack.

 

 

Thinking About Thoughts...

Anyone that knows me very well knows that I pretty much analyze everything.  I can't help it.  Part of it is because I'm a woman and I think most women are pretty introspective.  Shark Bait may say I'm not only introspective, but obsessive as well.  Look Pal, it's a skill and frankly, I think more people should tap into their analytical skills.  Like, hmmmm, Cassondra looks pissy today...I wonder if I should really bug her about what I just saw in the bathroom....  Anyone with common sense (which is another subject all on its own), would take a look at the situation, consider possible scenarios of how that could go and make an educated decision. That is the beauty of analyzing a situation when utilizing it for one's own safety. Sadly, I run into many people that do not take the time to truly consider the outcome.  Those people generally have to learn the hard way.  I'm all about education.

Anyway, there is a lot of stuff to think about, if you think about it, which you should.  I spent most of Talk Me Down Tuesday talking about my thoughts and what they really mean and how they impact my journey in life.  The Rug Doctor spends a lot of time trying to get me to engage is positive self talk.  It's cute that she has hope for me and thinks that I've made progress.  I like her spunk and positive, if not delusional outlook. She believes in me.  She wants me to believe in me.  Someday I might, but until then, I'm mostly going to think about it.

We talked about how if you start your day thinking, "this day is going to suck," that it likely will.  All your energy goes in to proving that statement to be true because we like to be right, we like to be validated in our feelings.  So, people that start their day like, "I'm going to make this a great day!" will focus on all the positives and focus their energy on the bright side.  Well, we all know where I stand on this positive, Polly Anna bullshit.  The Rug Doctor understands the force is strong in this one, so we previously negotiated that my mantra would be, "Today probably won't totally suck."  This is supposed to be my starting point.  And then at the end of the day, I'm supposed to think, "today was good enough."  So, start your day and end your day with positive-ish thoughts.  This is a problem for me.  Let's examine an average day:

Alarm clock goes off, I hit snooze. "Fucking alarm clock.  I don't want to get up, I've been up half the night, I'm tired and my hip hurts.  I wonder why my hip hurts. Stupid body...I'm probably dying, it's probably bone cancer...if I do get up, what am I going to wear today?"

Seven minutes later, alarm goes off again, I hit snooze button. "I can't get up, I wish I could call out today and just stay in bed all day. But would I really want to stay in bed?  I'd probably get tired of being in bed.  And then once I got up, what would I do? Would I clean house? Watch TV? Go see my pony? I would like to go shopping but I'm too poor.  I hate being poor.  What if I won the lottery?  I should buy a ticket.  If I won, I would totally buy a big piece of land.  But if I won the lottery, I'd have to win, like, a shit ton of money because I have things I want to do and people I want to help.  I'd have to go to the store to buy a lottery ticket. What numbers would I choose? That means I have to get out of bed, but if I am going to the store, I have to take a shower.  I can't just go like this.  And, I can't just take a shower, I have to do my hair.  I really hate my hair right now.  I look like a boy if I don't wear any make-up.  I wonder if I should grow my hair out?  I mean, it's really hard getting through that middle stage, but if I can do it, that would be good.  If I lost weight I wouldn't look so ridiculous.  I hate that I'm fat.  Why can't I do what I need to do to get skinny? What if I never get skinny?  Will I end up in one of those Hover Round wheel chairs? I probably won't live that long because I'm fat. What happened to my underwear?  Did I take them off before I went to bed?  Did we have sex last night?  I don't think we did...no, we didn't, I'd remember.  Will's still sleeping, why does he get to sleep? (let out big sign and tug on blankets) should we have sex now?  No, that's gross, who has sex in the morning with morning breath?  I mean, I guess you could just not kiss.  Have we ever had morning sex?  I think once.  We are night people...sometimes afternoon. Sigh....I need to get up. What am I going to wear today?"

Get up, get in shower. "I wonder how long this shower scrubby has been in here...it probably has dead skin on it.  Should I shave my legs today?  Who's gonna notice? No one. I hate my legs. How did I get to be this fat?  I need to eat better today.  I should go to the gym. I hate going to the gym.  I'll feel better.  I'm totally going to the gym today.  I mean, if Shark Bait isn't going to be too late.  If he is, I can't go to the gym because I have to go home to let the dogs out.  Who let the dogs out? woof woof.... stop screwing around. I wonder if anything is in my belly button, I hate putting my finger in there, it's weird. I wonder what would happen if I never cleaned in there.  Gross...I don't think I feel like going to the gym today. What am I going to wear today...?"

Okay, I'll spare you the entire day, it's a lot of thoughts.  What I'm really trying to get at is that I spend a lot of time thinking about everything.  I brought up to the Rug Doctor that I think I'm probably a bad person because of the things I think about.  And bad thoughts mean I probably deserve to be in this body.  She says, "No one can hear your thoughts." To which I said, "God can."  And in retrospect, probably Santa Claus can, too.  Anyway, she says that all people have thoughts that might be mean or negative and that doesn't mean we are bad people.  What makes a difference is what we do with those thoughts and that we use the filters to keep them inside.  If we keep them inside, they don't hurt anyone, unless we are talking about mean thoughts about ourselves.  That's harmful self-talk.  I said, "Just on the way here I was thinking that I should embrace my fat self, let my skirt ride up showing my fatty legs, wear a tu tu over that and a Mickey Mouse shirt and shave half my head and dye the other half purple like other people I see that seem perfectly happy with looking like a crazy fat person.  See, that's mean.  Who am I to say what beauty is and if that person feels good, good for them.  I'm a bad person for thinking that."  The Rug Doctor insisted that those thoughts are normal and don't define who I am.  What I do with them and how I treat people as a result define who I am.  I did bring up the fact that I usually don't hide my feelings, so therefore, many of my thoughts are not a mystery.  We are just going to call that a draw.

So, Rug Doctor doesn't think it's rational for me to feel like I deserve bad things because I have bad thoughts and my relationship with bad thoughts is a tough battle for me.  My depression and the bad thoughts are having a party that my body doesn't really want to go to, but feels obligated because there's going to be cake, ice cream, pony rides and a big screen showing of Magic Mike and who doesn't want to participate in all that? I need to focus on the positive.  I need to understand that progress is not always a straight line to the finish line, often times there are many little bunny trails we go on before we get back on track.  Whatever. Just because I understand it doesn't mean I have to like it. 

I guess I could try some positive thoughts.  It's not a new idea. I've been trying, honestly, I have.  I guess I have to try harder. Have you ever seen that video of the little girl giving herself positive affirmations in the morning?  Here, let me grab it off of You Tube...https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cgw8OFVHzd4.

Maybe I need to make something like this.  Let me give it a try...https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1l22RpWf7Hg&feature=share

There, I'm going to do this every morning.  Probably. And go to the gym.  Got my thoughts in order.