playing favorites

I was checking out SuperJitan/Alan's newest video (he is the brother of Paperlilies) and he was video responding to mememolly who asked, "are you anyone's favourite person?"

Here's his video:



Here's mememolly's link.

I hope I'm somebody's favorite person. For a very long time I was absolutely certain I was nobody's favorite person. Not one person on the planet even thought of me in a given day, I was 100% certain of that. And then I started blogging. And now I can think of a person or two who might consider me their favorite. Even in saying that I say it with caution, because being someone's favorite in the universe is a very difficult task to pull off.

Do you believe you are anyone's favorite person? If so, blog about it. Don't have to say who, just talk about that person.

I know I'm not actually answering my own question. What can I say? Even if people were to tell me to my face or in my comments that I am their favorite person I'd have this sliver of doubt, say to them "surely [insert person in their life] is your favorite, not me."

I'm agreeing with Alan, this is kinda depressing. I can think of someone who is *my* favorite, but trying to answer if I am someone else's favorite is an impossible question. Doesn't only that person know for sure?

long ago

I smell you and your room in my
Université de Paris sweatshirt and am
overwhelmed by a battery of thoughts,
chasing each other by and through a thin film
of association. Some paths, painful, send me
reeling back, searching for a clearer way. As I
continue searching, it doesn't matter so much,
as long as I continue. I don't want to put the
sweatshirt in the laundry, not yet anyway.
You remain here, a certain possible distance
from me.

This is a glimpse.

My first love wrote this for me. It's funny, my perception of our time together is that I was always chasing after him and he was always running away. I don't even really remember what this means anymore. If it were dated I could at least obtain a frame of reference, but it just sits on a piece of paper, staring up at me, trying to tell me something, and I don't know what exactly.

I do remember wearing his sweatshirts. I enjoyed doing that. I enjoyed smelling his scent. I guess he enjoyed mine as well.

I also just found a series of journal entries I wrote about our last days together before he left to study abroad. My deep poem to him that he doesn't know exists:

Never again will he smile just for me.
Never again will he kiss my lips.
Never again will he caress my body.
Never again will he hold me and tell me everything will be alright.
Never again will he love me with all of his heart.

I sit and hope for never to come.
Waiting...
                        forever.

I wrote that the very day he left, right after he got on the plane. Gosh, I was intense back then. :)

crossroads

This morning in my work mailbox I found an invitation to be included in one of those scammy who's who directories, which I checked out later and learned I want no part in it, but before checking it out my introspection began.

I have always been resistant to being a "computer person". I never wanted this to be my career. I just did it because I was good at it. I did it because, despite my dislike for all things service, it's what my personality type tells me I should be doing.

And then something happened. I'm not sure what. Something changed in me that made me love what I do. Perhaps it's because my employer became more supportive of my professional development and I was able to actually learn more and practice the security side of computing. This is truly my passion. I love all things to do with security. I could wax poetically for hours on the subject. I could eat up every certification there is to do with this field, read every trade material there is on the subject, handle incidents with no objection indefinitely. I would love to become someone's CSO, CISO, security consultant, or similar. I would love to be in charge of security infrastructure, planning, implementation, response, resolution... all of it.

But, what if? I have a fear of responsibility, a fear of committing to the big things. I have a fear of saying yes to something and then disappointing everyone involved. I fear that I don't know enough to do the job well. I fear that everyone will realize I'm a fake. Underneath this confident exterior I'm just winging it like the rest of the world. And somehow that's okay for everyone else to do, but not for me.

I am very strong willed, know what I want, and go full force toward it, but underneath there is a constant dialog of, "[my nickname here], are you really sure you know what you're doing?" No, voice, I don't. But I'm doing it anyway.

The one day several months back when my boss told me, "you know, you could be the CSO" scared the absolute shit out of me. But, is there really anything wrong with being scared?

I am annoyed with myself today. Ever have those days?

Hi!

So, I'm in better spirits today. There won't be more explanation on the blog about that last post, sorry to "disappoint" anyone.

Yesterday I went to a company picnic during a tornado warning and had fantastic steak on the grill! Also got the biggest hug ever, unprompted, by Break Boy's son. I love his kids so much. They are so sweet and mischievous at the very same time. And his daughter looked sooooo adorable in her pigtails while she fell over backwards and giggled and babbled to me.

After picnic I came home to a power outage, a forced break from the eWorld. I appreciated the break, watched a movie on my laptop and took a little quiet time to just sit on my bed and think in the dark. I love the dark now that it doesn't scare me. I was afraid of it until January. Isn't that weird? No longer scared of it, now love it.

Used the generator for a bit of time to microwave some dinner and watch the finale of SYTYCD. Congrats to Sabra! Apparently I know how to call 'em. Was glad to see everyone back who could be back, but the sparkle was gone from many of the other performers' eyes (most noticeably Pasha's and Sara's). Danny's original partner (whose name I can't remember) was the best of the non-final 4. She is a true entertainer.

After this the power came back on but I was tired so went to the bedroom to do some more reflecting. I enjoy the silence, Depeche Mode-inspired or not. ;) Listened to some Justin Timberlake on repeat and enjoyed life.

The only thing missing: Kitties. They were all busy elsewhere, no time for Mama. S'okay, they're always in my heart.

I'm just sayin'

I could use a real, actual hug right now without motivation beyond "I'm here for you". Anyone on their way to France anytime soon who's willing to give such a hug?

In return I give you a really great hug back. And maybe a wet shoulder. :}



(See, this is why I generally post fluffy things. I'm actually very introspective at heart and few people can handle me that way. ;)

I might be getting punked.

I am back on hiatus, but I'm putting the blog up because it's flipping everyone out to have it be blank. I'll be in touch. Things are tarded at the moment and I am just not going to further that behavior by posting anything here.

My shiny ball below explains how I feel right now. A lot of you know why, and you want me to talk about it, but it's very private and will remain that way here.

I'm off like a dirty shirt. :P

(I am still funny even in the face of total shitocracy.)

Hugs and kisses to you all,
~P

at a loss

I have a lot to say, but it's trapped inside of me.

I'm not dead, but I'm still on hiatus(s).

That's all I'll say for now. :) Thanks to everyone who has been checking up on me. Sorry I'm not being very "verbal" about what's going on with me. It's private.

(Poppy has something she won't reveal on the blog?! ZOMG! ;)

spection

Quand je parle en français le monde ne semble plus mauvais. Mais, si je parle en français seulement deux personnes peuvent me comprendre.

C'est la vie. C'est la guerre. C'est la underwear.

intro

Do you go into things assuming you're going to win, going to be the best, going to accomplish the goal? Or, the exact opposite?

I'm realizing I'm super fucking cocky which confuses the hell out of me because I'm also an introvert and somehow I have it in my head that introversion and cockiness can't co-exist. Maybe cocky isn't the right word. Maybe I'm confident.

Reality virtual

This post is probably quite clearly the result of me pouring through all the blog posts and comments about Dawg and Puppy Monster.

Why is it so much more accepted as valid to have been in someone's physical presence and formed a friendship versus having met online, shared each other's deepest hopes and dreams, and realized you want to be each other's friend?

I'm doing a count in my head and telling you that every single one of the friends I am close with except two are people I knew from the internet first. They became my friends there first. I didn't have to meet them to know how incredibly amazing they were.

And for anyone who argues that meeting someone in person gives us a better sense that the person is genuine: Is that really true? We all get tricked by people in our physical lives as well, from time to time. We all think we know people and then realize we don't know them as well as we thought. That's life.

I think Amy, creator of the graphics for the Puppy Monster memorial, says it best:

"Can you believe this? I've never been so proud to belong to a community before in my life. It's one thing to say you have friends, but it's another thing when the chips are down to see who really stands by you - no matter how far away, how well they know you, or if you've ever met face to face."

I can believe it, I'm so happy that there are truly good people in the world, and that I get to be a part of a truly selfless act for an incredible person. I'm also really happy that, much to his chagrin, Avi's reputation as a total asshole has been completely and utterly and irrevocably decimated. Sorry, sweetie, your teddy bear heart is shining through. And so are those of all the people who are showing Dawg support monetarily and through kind words. (But, Avi, scooch a little closer for a sec: If you make that kitten killing video you [I HOPE] joked about in order to get your reputation "back on track" I am not kidding about turning you in, so DON'T. DO. IT.)


To Helen and B and any of my other readers who may have quietly purchased graphics, thank you so very, very much.

"Forgive me, Big Daddy, for I have sinned" : A Confessioner's Tale

Yah, yah, so I'm confessing something. I don't feel guilty about it, I just wanna tell you something quirky about me and I have to confess in order to do so.

Today I've eaten leftover tofu teriyaki, deep fried steak fries, and leftover mashed potatoes with beef gravy. Problem is, it's only 5:40pm and there's that meal called dinner left to have but I don't want to go nuts and eat a big meal so instead I'm having one of those Starbucks mocha frappuccinos to which I added an entire coffee scoop of fresh Verona coffee grounds because eating coffee curbs my appetite. What also helps is plenty of ice water to fill my tummy, so a gigantic glass of ice water is sitting next to the coffee, 3/4 consumed.

I worked from home today because I woke up feeling ass-like so rather than take the day off I decided to plant myself on the couch and tell people what to do remotely. :) The problem with working from home and not having Hay around is that I always do at least one "yay, my parents aren't home!" activity. I won't go into all the ways I choose to act out but let me just say that it's silly because Hay could really give a care about pretty much any of these activities in which I choose to indulge. And yet I do them anyway. :) The thrill of the naughtiness, I think. I do so enjoy my secrets...

Surprise! (but not in the good way)

I've been keeping quiet about this because I wasn't sure how it would turn out, but it seems like resolve is occurring.

In the middle of last week Hay's paternal grandmother woke up from her slumber to find that both her legs, which had been working just fine the day before, were no longer working. (Surprise!) She couldn't walk, couldn't move them, couldn't anything with them. Details of what happened between then and now are not going to be discussed here, but luckily she has regained her ability to get around a bit.

When Hay told me about his grandmother my mind kept on spinning, wondering what it would be like to fall asleep with perfect use of your legs and then wake up to the (well, initial shock and horror) of possibly never walking again. Obviously I'd adjust mentally and modify my life to compensate for this new addition to the complications of life, but I doubt I'd be too happy about it. I'm glad for Hay's grandmother's sake that the situation isn't permanent but I can't even imagine how unsettling that must have been for her.

And I have no ending to my post. Just quiet contemplation.

"Is it because I'm not Catholic?"

I've learned lately that many people who read my blog are Catholic, although perhaps not practicing. Have I ever mentioned? (yes I have.) that I am not Catholic?

I was born a Methodist and it never quite took. The only good thing that came out of my association with the Methodist church is that I got to crush on the same boy for 7 years of my younger life and that I continue to be invited to a barbecue and auction every July 4th at which most of my maternal family gathers. ... Yup, that's about it.

I'm not willing to admit my full philosophy about spirituality. I am willing to reiterate what I've mentioned before which is that I think Buddhism is the closest organized religion that matches my belief system. I won't be enlightened in this life, but I'm confident I'll come back a few steps closer in my next life.

Hay is Catholic and has all that Catholic guilt associated with it, which to me is such a foreign concept I can't relate at all. Sure, I've had guilt in my life, but I seem to have lost it along the path of my life. It's really just not anywhere to be found anymore, and I prefer my life this way. I'm not interesting in having my life ruled by fear, guilt, regret, Other People's Rules. I do still follow basic societal rules, but I enjoy bending them a bit.

I'm really asking this more to myself, because it's been bugging me a lot lately, but I am wondering: Will I ever be fully accepted by a Catholic if I myself never ever intend to be Catholic myself? If I live my life in a way that is so far from the life that a good Catholic is supposed to live? If I have such a different belief system that I quietly agree to disagree with your own? I definitely feel like an outsider on this one, and it bothers me that two people can be so incompatible but just because they have religion in common they are somehow more bonded than I can ever be just because of this one little matter of spiritual beliefs. And it bothers me that two people can be so compatible but religion will always divide them at a core level. Irritates the piss out of me, in fact.

Deep, I know. Happy Monday. :)

Observations

Cryptic: Sometimes even I don't catch on to the obvious. Although, to be fair, it wasn't obvious to anyone else either. Nice job, clever beetle. :)

Confused: I received 432 hits to my site on Friday. I cannot for the life of me figure out why. I poured through my keywords, through the 7 pages of visitor activity, and I just don't see a common theme. How is it that I only received about 10 comments yesterday if 432 people visited my site? STOP LURKING, EVERYONE! I LIKE YOU. :)

Calls: New Jersey, Idaho, and Georgia call us a lot. Oddly, we know no one in those states. Stop calling? Or leave a message. Seems simple...

Cacophony: It is easier for me to do my work if I am listening to or watching things. Today I have listened to the morning purchase of Don't You Fake It by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, watched two episodes of Veronica Mars season 2 (OMFG, WTF IS GOING ON?!??! SO RAWKS! MY EYES BUGGED OUTTA MY HEAD FOR THE BUS SCENE AMONG OTHER THINGS), and I stupidly watched two videos (whose content I shall never. speak. of. because it's waaaaaaay too disturbing) which are posted on a blog I reference way too much (Mel and Molly, have you watched the videos? gak.) In the process of watching and listening I have managed to edit all the articles for the newsletter I am to publish, although I have yet to write the final article I have charged myself with writing. And it's the one that should be the easiest but it's the one that's giving me the most grief. Perhaps I should pull out one of my favorite movies from the movie cabinet and try that for noise?

Convenience: Where a sandwich shop used to be inside our local gas station is now under construction but soon to become walk-in cooler space. Hay wondered aloud what would go there. I bet him it would be a liquor store because there was only one door so far and it looked like an actual door to walk through. When I bought breakfast drinks I asked the clerk if the area under construction was going to be a liquor store over in the corner and she said yes. But then she realized she didn't mean yes, she meant no, it will be for beer. Just beer. Funny thing is that there is already an entire wall of coolers dedicated to beer. Soooo, now there will be a walk-in cooler of beer plus an entire wall of beer? That's a lot of beer for a town that is in the middle of vitalization but isn't there yet. If they want to sell my favorite Belgian beers I will gladly shop there for more than just Dunkin' Donuts and Starbucks mocha frappuccino drinks.

Cats: When I sit in my office Georgie sits underneath my chair, Ripley sits on my papers, and Allie sits on the couch behind me. When I sit downstairs they all pretty much completely ignore me. I should be in my office more often.

Honestly?

I was visiting Molly and she posed a question she found at Snay's site:

"So here’s my question to you: if you had to rate yourself, how closely does your personality which appears through your blog reflect on you?"

My rating: 5.5 out of 10. I'm going to need to admit that all facets of my personality are not represented here. The only person who knows the complete and real me is me. Some of you know me quite well, for the sides of my personality I choose to display to you. I've become more blog chatty about my real life this year and revealing with a few blog-found friends, thanks to encouragement from some of you who seem interested in getting to know me better. Still, I'm pretty compartmentally reserved. (I understand that it's really hard for you all to believe that I am more reserved than what I am choosing to say here lately. Trust me, it's true.) Without naming names (because they/you know who they/you are), there are probably 5 people who know me best, but in different portions of my personality. If you all compared notes you'd have a composite of the real me. Almost. :) That isn't to say that if I were asked direct questions I wouldn't tell the truth. You'd just need to know what questions to ask.

How about you?


Oh, and to answer Molly's question, I have only kicked my brother in the groin (I was 10, he was 15.75). But next Monday I will be kicking a cop in the groin! Don't worry, I won't shouldn't be arrested for it. :)

conceited?

Sometimes I really enjoy reading my own blog archives because it reminds me of the person I am. Sometimes I forget. At first I thought it was because I'm narcissistic, but I think it's because I'm senile.

handwriting

Depending on what I'm doing my handwriting changes drastically. Following are examples of different styles of writing I have. Click on any image to enlarge. The only doctored one is the grocery list, from which I removed Hay's real name. The rest are not identifying in any way, but you're welcome to read every single line of every single page image and see for yourself. :)

Live meeting notes (from a live webcast I “attended” yesterday; the inspiration for this post):





Study notes (from a C++ class I took back in 2002):





Homework notes (same C++ class):





Grocery list (from a few years ago -- no more kitten chow for the girls):





Take-out order for me and Hay:





Brainstorming (with myself) notes:





Live presentation (from a conference at MIT in 2003):



(Please note that LDAP + Kerberos + OS X has come a long way in 4+ years so none of that information is particularly relevant anymore. Like you care.)


In case it's not obvious, I keep all my notes. :) I'm guessing if my handwriting were to be analyzed it would say: crazy, sociopath, psycho, schizophrenic, and a host of other buzz words to do with general unfitfulness. Take-out order is my favorite.


The more thoughtful I am about the subject the better my penmanship becomes. Hay makes me do all the holiday cards because he thinks my handwriting is pretty. I'm flattered and ungrateful at the very same time! ;)

I have found my doppelganger.

If you were curious what Poppy is like in real life, Holly Hunter's character in The Big White is based on yours truly:



...They just forgot to ask my permission to chronicle my life.

Warning: Lots of swearing is involved in that clip, and it will make you laugh so hard you pee yourself.