Often the number 13 evokes a sense of intense fear and danger by those who come across it in their everyday lives. The number brings forth images of black cats, women pinned to stakes, ladders, breaking mirrors and just a general feel of ominous doom. Whether you come across it in calculating finances, planning a party, or choosing a house or car, if something is suggestive towards this lowly-regarded number being the sum of whatever it is you're doing, chances are that at first sight of it you'll be running for the hills, far far away, along with the rest of herd.
I, usually, am part of this herd.
If we're looking at houses, I won't want one that has 13 in the address. With cars, I add up the numbers on the reg: if the total comes to 13, again, I consider it a bad sign. (Don't get me started on cars with three of the same number, the number that comes after 5 but before 7 - shudder).
I don't know why I tend to diverge from this number. I think over time I've just gone along with the flow and joined in with the rest of the hype about the number: I've actually heard that Italians consider it a lucky number. Growing up, Red had a bit of a fear about it, and she kept seeing signs of it everywhere: dates, the time, even the number of letters in her first and last name added up to 13. (Teenage girls have a lot of time on their hands).
Another friend I grew up with, got her first period on Friday the 13th. Faaaarrrrrrr. She was secretly rapt, I know, being a bit of a late bloomer and all, but I was just like "What? Friday the 13th? Of all days?!"
I've ended up having my birthday on the 13th a couple of times, just the way the dates worked out that year, and I can't say anything really horrible happened. But if given the option, I would always go for the other option, rather than outright choose something with 13 associated with it.
(I think the stories of my parents upbringing got me really superstitious and stuff too.)
However, I'm starting to see things differently. Today is a 13 number for me, and a great number at that.
Including today, I only have 13 more working days until I go on leave next month.
:-D! :-D! :-D!
YIPPEE for me! I am so excited. When I start preparing my to-do list of holiday stuff, I think I might spontaneously explode with the amount of items I will be potentially ticking off.
And because Hubbie isn't able to take holidays with me, as he has only recently started a new job, I will be on my own, getting lots of little bullshit jobs done. I'll be organising photos, cleaning windows, sorting through recipes and indexing them, throwing out old bills, EVERYTHING!
You think I'm crazy now don't you? You think I'm going to devote my time off to just cleaning the house? No siree!
I'm gonna be catching up with my parents, my sister, my cousins, my extended family, my friends, the works! On Hubbie's days off, we're going to go out and not come home until it's dark! I'm going to be watching my fave tv shows and movies 'til REALLY late at night, because I won't have work the next day! I'll be shopping, trying on dresses with Red for her wedding, going to parks, to the beach, eating out and most important drinking coffee and eating cake and ice cream!
!!!!!
I am going to do it all, whenever, however and wherever I like! :-D
Oh, and I almost forget. I'll be finishing off my book then too, you know that story I keep mentioning. Yeah......
:-D
Which brings me to another 13. I finished chapter 12 last night.
:-D :-D :-D
Monday, January 23, 2012
Friday, January 20, 2012
WOW.
So yesterday I was all pathetic and shit, but today I've turned over a new leaf. It does not fail my notice that although I try to live my life in the highest regard and in line with the law of attraction, that I still have monumental DOWN days. I think the fact that I do try so hard to better my life, that it indeed causes these seriously depressing moments. When I'm high, I'm flying, and when I'm down, well.... I won't finish that.
Also, the fact that I get up so early during the week, leaves me feeling drained: even though I feel it physically, the emotinal side takes it toll. Does it ever. By the end of the week I can be crabby, over-sensitive, and finding fault in the smallest of things. Like the last couple of days.
When a few things don't go to plan, or when a few things get to me, they combine into a rolling ball of moss, accelerating down the steep hill of my brain, until finally, when it hits the bottom with a large bang, I end up broken. Completely broken, shattered, and in a deep ditch of dirt.
But, aided today by my true and trusted friend 'proper coffee' I am definitely looking up.
:)
Just send Hubbie this message: "Hi, I'm Miss S (group says 'Hi Miss S') and I have a coffee addiction."
I'm a bit whacked out today, being a Friday and all. As you can probably tell.
So I'm here to talk positive, and to put a bit of perspective on something I mentioned yesterday.
So yes. I didn't ask for a pay rise. I didn't prepare myself, the night before it I had other heavy things on my mind, and it led to me feeling completely unprepared for the work review I had. I'm not usually like that, I'm super-organised, and like Hubbie coached to me last night, I have to learn from the experience.
Yes I will learn. I guess it's just hard because I'm not even sure what was the right thing to do: to ask or not to ask? That IS the question. However I have to believe that I did the right thing, and if not, that I will get another opportunity at monetary rewards, if not through this work, then through another (hint, hint, clears throat loudly 'ahem, book *cough* my story *cough*).
:)
And one more thing. What I was supposed to talk about yesterday.
I get cranky at times, when I notice people staring at me. It just really annoys me. Sure, look, glance around. But don't continue to ogle me, or to totally stare me down into a hole as I walk on by. I don't care what the reasons are, I find it rude and slightly intimidating to know someone is totally giving me the once over.
Though a couple of mornings ago, walking to work 6:30 in the morning, I saw two tradies approaching me from the other side. I knew how I was dressed, and knew that it may get some notice. I wasn't dressed inappropriately or anything, but you know when the clothes you wear portray a certain look? Anyway, I kepy my eyes straight ahead as I walked on by, being careful not to make any eye contact, because hey, you can't encourage them in anyway. Who knows what might happen then.
Even though my eyes were forward, I could see them looking at me as they walked past. And I heard from one of them, lowly, "Wow."
Wow. I thought about it some more as I kept walking, wondering whether I was upset at being ogled at again. But you know what? I took it for what it was, as a freaking damn fantastic compliment. WOW. I think that's one of the best compliments ever. One word, so simple. Wow.
As I said to Hubbie, when I'm pregnant one day, I'm sure I won't have guys whistling, tooting their car horns or making remarks about me when I walk by, so I'll take all the Wow's I can right now.
I'm going to take it in, and appreciate it as much as possible.
What a wonderful, brilliant, spectacular, mood-lifting, heart-warming post to get me into the weekend :-D
WOW!
Also, the fact that I get up so early during the week, leaves me feeling drained: even though I feel it physically, the emotinal side takes it toll. Does it ever. By the end of the week I can be crabby, over-sensitive, and finding fault in the smallest of things. Like the last couple of days.
When a few things don't go to plan, or when a few things get to me, they combine into a rolling ball of moss, accelerating down the steep hill of my brain, until finally, when it hits the bottom with a large bang, I end up broken. Completely broken, shattered, and in a deep ditch of dirt.
But, aided today by my true and trusted friend 'proper coffee' I am definitely looking up.
:)
Just send Hubbie this message: "Hi, I'm Miss S (group says 'Hi Miss S') and I have a coffee addiction."
I'm a bit whacked out today, being a Friday and all. As you can probably tell.
So I'm here to talk positive, and to put a bit of perspective on something I mentioned yesterday.
So yes. I didn't ask for a pay rise. I didn't prepare myself, the night before it I had other heavy things on my mind, and it led to me feeling completely unprepared for the work review I had. I'm not usually like that, I'm super-organised, and like Hubbie coached to me last night, I have to learn from the experience.
Yes I will learn. I guess it's just hard because I'm not even sure what was the right thing to do: to ask or not to ask? That IS the question. However I have to believe that I did the right thing, and if not, that I will get another opportunity at monetary rewards, if not through this work, then through another (hint, hint, clears throat loudly 'ahem, book *cough* my story *cough*).
:)
And one more thing. What I was supposed to talk about yesterday.
I get cranky at times, when I notice people staring at me. It just really annoys me. Sure, look, glance around. But don't continue to ogle me, or to totally stare me down into a hole as I walk on by. I don't care what the reasons are, I find it rude and slightly intimidating to know someone is totally giving me the once over.
Though a couple of mornings ago, walking to work 6:30 in the morning, I saw two tradies approaching me from the other side. I knew how I was dressed, and knew that it may get some notice. I wasn't dressed inappropriately or anything, but you know when the clothes you wear portray a certain look? Anyway, I kepy my eyes straight ahead as I walked on by, being careful not to make any eye contact, because hey, you can't encourage them in anyway. Who knows what might happen then.
Even though my eyes were forward, I could see them looking at me as they walked past. And I heard from one of them, lowly, "Wow."
Wow. I thought about it some more as I kept walking, wondering whether I was upset at being ogled at again. But you know what? I took it for what it was, as a freaking damn fantastic compliment. WOW. I think that's one of the best compliments ever. One word, so simple. Wow.
As I said to Hubbie, when I'm pregnant one day, I'm sure I won't have guys whistling, tooting their car horns or making remarks about me when I walk by, so I'll take all the Wow's I can right now.
I'm going to take it in, and appreciate it as much as possible.
What a wonderful, brilliant, spectacular, mood-lifting, heart-warming post to get me into the weekend :-D
WOW!
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Feeling Shitty Now....
Ok, so my plan was to write about something that lifted my mood the other day, instead, I'm still feeling shitty, so I can't fake it and go "Oooh! look at me! la di da I'm so happy!"
:):):):)
No, I can't do that. Have you ever not wanted to do something because the thought of doing it made you feel so uncomfortable and awkward, so you didn't do it, but then after the fact, you wished you had done it, because it would have been a learning experience, a challenge, an opportunity at greater things?
Yeah well I feel like a freaking coward right now. I had an opportunity to ask for a pay rise, and I chickened out.
(Hides head between legs and shuffles away....)
I feel like crying.
:(
:):):):)
No, I can't do that. Have you ever not wanted to do something because the thought of doing it made you feel so uncomfortable and awkward, so you didn't do it, but then after the fact, you wished you had done it, because it would have been a learning experience, a challenge, an opportunity at greater things?
Yeah well I feel like a freaking coward right now. I had an opportunity to ask for a pay rise, and I chickened out.
(Hides head between legs and shuffles away....)
I feel like crying.
:(
Writing Realisations
I've come across a couple of insights into the way Miss S operates and what drives her (yes I am fully aware of having just switched from 1st person P.O.V to a third person P.O.V).
I was feeling a bit sad and sorry for myself on Sunday afternoon, once again thinking of how quickly the weekend had passed, and how I had to get myself ready for work the next day: lunches, bags, crap and stuff.
A glimmer of happiness went through me when I thought of the early time Hubbie would be going to bed; because when he goes to bed early, me and my laptop join him.
I spend most of my writing time typing furiously on my laptop as Hubbie sleeps beside me. I don't like to write when he is awake and we can talk about something or do something. Even when we're just sitting on the couch, I have to sit on the couch with him, instead of do anything else. Aww. Also, I think I wouldn't be able to concentrate either, even if I tried. I'm much better thinking and planning in quiet and peace, with no distractions. That thought worries me, as I know the day will come where I have distractions abound.
Also, in complete contradiction to what I just said, when I look at my computer screen, and start reading the last few pages I wrote, I completely switch off and just tune into another world. That's what I noticed last night in bed, having started the writing process in complete sadness and frustration. I knew I had to write, I have a deadline I'm trying to stick to so I don't slack off, and I said to myself "right, there are times that you're going to write happy, some sad. You gotta write through it all."
And amazingly I did. It was only after I finished for the night that I realised how deep in my other world I had been. I don't know if that's what happens to all writers as they're creating their own unique worlds, or if it's a sign of something else (like my story is good, fingers crossed!)
So that I liked:)
AND, I find myself really looking forward to and enjoying writing of late. It may be a combination of things: being towards the end of the book; seeing the light at the end of the tunnel for the book's completion; writing about things that I've been leading up to for a year! I feel good about it, and not that I don't usually like to write, but a lot of the past year I've felt confused about the characters, storyline and my ability to write well. I'm feeling better, for everything, and I like it.
So I'm liking a lot, but my heart is still heavy. Maybe I need one more post to lift my spirits....
I was feeling a bit sad and sorry for myself on Sunday afternoon, once again thinking of how quickly the weekend had passed, and how I had to get myself ready for work the next day: lunches, bags, crap and stuff.
A glimmer of happiness went through me when I thought of the early time Hubbie would be going to bed; because when he goes to bed early, me and my laptop join him.
I spend most of my writing time typing furiously on my laptop as Hubbie sleeps beside me. I don't like to write when he is awake and we can talk about something or do something. Even when we're just sitting on the couch, I have to sit on the couch with him, instead of do anything else. Aww. Also, I think I wouldn't be able to concentrate either, even if I tried. I'm much better thinking and planning in quiet and peace, with no distractions. That thought worries me, as I know the day will come where I have distractions abound.
Also, in complete contradiction to what I just said, when I look at my computer screen, and start reading the last few pages I wrote, I completely switch off and just tune into another world. That's what I noticed last night in bed, having started the writing process in complete sadness and frustration. I knew I had to write, I have a deadline I'm trying to stick to so I don't slack off, and I said to myself "right, there are times that you're going to write happy, some sad. You gotta write through it all."
And amazingly I did. It was only after I finished for the night that I realised how deep in my other world I had been. I don't know if that's what happens to all writers as they're creating their own unique worlds, or if it's a sign of something else (like my story is good, fingers crossed!)
So that I liked:)
AND, I find myself really looking forward to and enjoying writing of late. It may be a combination of things: being towards the end of the book; seeing the light at the end of the tunnel for the book's completion; writing about things that I've been leading up to for a year! I feel good about it, and not that I don't usually like to write, but a lot of the past year I've felt confused about the characters, storyline and my ability to write well. I'm feeling better, for everything, and I like it.
So I'm liking a lot, but my heart is still heavy. Maybe I need one more post to lift my spirits....
Dancing with your Parents as a Child
I couldn't think of any other way to sum up the above sentiment, without getting into metaphors and wishy-washy statements.
Do you remember that time? You were about 7 years old, and at some kind of function with your parents, be it a wedding, birthday, or quite simply Christmas in the backyard with your family and friends.
Everyone would be dancing, having a great time. And when a slow song came on, linking all the partners together, the dancefloor turning into a sea of slow-moving duos, the kids would come to a stop, just standing and smiling up at everyone.
Your parents would invite you in. You would join their exclusive little circle, and you would dance in amongst them, with Mum and Dad's hands on your shoulders, as you, shy yet happy, looked up to them and tried to sway in tune, as they beamed radiance.
Don't you remember that feeling? The feeling of total security, happiness, comfort. Knowing that you were with the people that loved you most in this world. Everything was right, everything was as it should be, and all was perfectly right with the world. You somehoe mellowed in that short time, got a little less crazy, a little less erratic, and put your loony child behaviours on hold while you danced the most special dance of your life with the two people who would give the world to you.
Sometimes, when I get sad, when I feel lonely..... I think of that time..... and I wish I was 7 again.
Do you remember that time? You were about 7 years old, and at some kind of function with your parents, be it a wedding, birthday, or quite simply Christmas in the backyard with your family and friends.
Everyone would be dancing, having a great time. And when a slow song came on, linking all the partners together, the dancefloor turning into a sea of slow-moving duos, the kids would come to a stop, just standing and smiling up at everyone.
Your parents would invite you in. You would join their exclusive little circle, and you would dance in amongst them, with Mum and Dad's hands on your shoulders, as you, shy yet happy, looked up to them and tried to sway in tune, as they beamed radiance.
Don't you remember that feeling? The feeling of total security, happiness, comfort. Knowing that you were with the people that loved you most in this world. Everything was right, everything was as it should be, and all was perfectly right with the world. You somehoe mellowed in that short time, got a little less crazy, a little less erratic, and put your loony child behaviours on hold while you danced the most special dance of your life with the two people who would give the world to you.
Sometimes, when I get sad, when I feel lonely..... I think of that time..... and I wish I was 7 again.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Happiness Is.... #9
Happiness Is....
(Like I promised....)
Having a sister like mine. If everyone had a sister like mine, there would be no war in this world. Because she would talk them out of it. Because that's what mine did with me yesterday. She is truly the brightest star there is. :)
And she's MY sister :):):)
(Like I promised....)
Having a sister like mine. If everyone had a sister like mine, there would be no war in this world. Because she would talk them out of it. Because that's what mine did with me yesterday. She is truly the brightest star there is. :)
And she's MY sister :):):)
Imitation is the sincerest form of Insult
I need to get this out so that I can try to move on. In true OCD form I've been completely obsessing over it, and I can't take it anymore.
Let's play the hypothetical game again, with not so hypothetical people, and a not at all hypothetical situation.
Let's say, I have some really nice kitchen items. To make this game easier, I'll say I have a beautiful fruit bowl, with matching salt and pepper shakers that sit beside it. It took me ages to find something this beautiful, unique and original in the modern style Hubbie and I were going for in the kitchen (remember, hypothetical!) So when we got it and put it in there a couple of months ago, we were like "Ahhhh." Looks good.
Now, about a month ago we had Mouth over with another couple. During the course of the visit, after she had been to my kitchen, she commented to me "oh, I like your fruit bowl, and the salt and pepper shakers. Really nice. Where did you get it?"
I was probably slightly thrown by the fact that she never really notices anything or anyone but herself, and it seemed she was giving me a genuine compliment for my kitchen things. I said quite casually "oh, from blah and blah."
I didn't think much of it. I later heard from Hubbie that the other couple who were over, well the woman expressed how much she really liked my kitchen things, and added "they're from blah and blah, yeah?"
When Hubbie told me this I was like "no! She can't get the same things as us!" But the knowledge that the shopping centre we got it from wasn't exactly local, kept me secure in the fact that she wouldn't go there by herself and get them. She could just safely admire them from a dsitance whenever she was at our house.
So I forgot about it.
Just recently, we found ourselves at this woman's house. Mouth was there also, and some other people. A couple of hours into it, Hubbie whispers to me "have you been to the kitchen?"
He has a weird look on his face. "What?" I ask, confused.
"She bought the things." He's smiling but I can see his expression is really wary, judging me and how I'm going to react. My mouth drops open as I realise what he's talking about. I'm gaping.
"Don't overreact. Don't make a scene."
I get up immediately and march to the kitchen. My heart drops when I get there, when I see MY fruit browl and matching salt and pepper shakers.
I am in absolute shock. She bloody went there. She went to the shopping centre, to the exact same shop and bought the same bloody things as me. And now her kitchen looks like mine.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
I am completely deflated. Dismayed, upset, devastated, shocked. Hubbie reads my face as I come and sit back down. "Don't jump, you don't know the full story. Don't be upset, ok?" I'm wondering at his words, wondering what the hell extra there is to know that would make this situation better for me, but I try to push it out of my mind, not wanting to appear obvious.
Not too long after that, I'm talking to Mouth. And somehow, in conversation, she says "so last weekend I went to blah shopping centre with woman, to get those things at blah shop, you know your kitchen things?"
All the pieces are falling into place. But it's actually getting worse for me.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, we went and bought them."
The word we I'm having an especially hard time with. It's sticking out like a sore thumb in a sentence of fingers.
"You went and bought the exact same things?" My tone is dead, expressionless. I'm numb with shock.
"Yeah." Her response is almost questioning. As if she's trying to work out what my take is on all of it.
She goes on and on as my heart sinks deeper.
"They have good priced forks there, you know," she waffles on. (hypothetical forks!)
"Yeah," I say flatly. "That's why I like it there. I like to get good, different things that arent the same as everyone else."
There's a distinct pause. I can hear her thinking. Then, because she's a fucking tool, she continues unaffected.
Phew. I need to calm down.
Perhaps I need to give you a little back story, so you can understand my strong aversion to copying.
Growing up, I had a friend, let's simply call her copy-cat. Enough said, right? In primary school she would read off my work, and when I'd catch her I'd yell out "stop copying!" She would say back angrily "I'm not copying!" And yet she would still do it, peering over my arm which I tried to protectively cover my work with.
All my friends knew. When she was near them she would try to copy their work too. But because my regular seat was next to her, I got the brunt of it.
Copy-cat and I went to the same high school. Here, I didn't have as many classes with her, but the rest of my friends there soon found out how she was, and again she was accused of copying. The annyoing thing with her was that she would copy you, and then make her work better. That was the aggravating thing. That and obviously denying that she was even plagiarising our work.
It was easier for me in high school, knowing my friends there could see what I could see. But then as I thought I lost her annoying habit, I gained the same habit in someone else. My cousins Legs and Hair.
Now I absolutely love them to pieces, I really do. But there was a time when I was growing up, and them being younger than me and looking up to me of course, that they would imitate me. They liked the things I liked. They dressed like me. And on and on. At one stage one of them confided to me that their own grandmother said to them "You should be more like Miss S." Although I was only 14 at the time, I lost it when I heard this. "Screw her! Don't be like me, or anybody else, be your own person!"
And they did, and I'm so proud of my adopted sisters for what they have grown into.
But what I'm trying to show here is that I had a lot of copying of me over the years, copying that scarred me, and that has made me want to be completely original, different and unlike anybody else. The more people copied me, the more I shied away and tried to be even more original and unique.
So that, on top of the fact that I have to mentally imagine kicking Mouth like a football far off into the distance just to get her annoyingness out of my head, has got me so unbelievably pissed off that you can't imagine.
I can't believe, that she went and bought the exact same things as me. She not only went into the same shop (which is fine) but she bought the exact same things! Has she no shame? Is she not embarrassed, does she not feel pathetic? I would be completely ashamed of buying the exact same thing as someone else, and then have them come into my house and see that I've copied them. How shameful! Shame, shame, shame.
The reason I'm not having a go at the other woman - though I am still upset! - is because Hubbie said to me not to be. She's older, and she looks at other people for home ideas. She doesn't know. I exhaled loudly when I heard this. I'm still exhaling. I wanna do it for him, but it's not easy. I would do anything for him though.
But Mouth. Mouth is younger than the woman. She's older than us. (Another shameful thing, copying people younger than you) She should know better. When the woman called Mouth and said "I want to get the same things as Miss S," Mouth should have said "No, that's embarrassing, we'll go and get something different."
Mouth, the same Mouth who would have a go at someone for copying her. The same mouth who only ever praises or talks about herself. The same mouth who never gives anyone recognition. Do you think when guests comment on her kitchen things that she's going to be honest and say "I copied Miss S' style"? No! No she won't because she is a narcissist!
Argh! I'm so furious. I can't take it. The saying about imitation being flattery, is a load of bullshit. It's not flattery for someone whose suffered the effects of people trying to steal her style for only HER ENTIRE LIFE.
It absolutely boils me to my core. Do not copy me! Especially you, Mouth! I can't stand it, I'm absolutely fuming with anger.
Hubbie and I don't have the biggest house. But with what we have, we try to make the best of it, and put really fine touches to our house to make it unique. We buy quality items, interesting pieces, and all the furnishings show attention to detail and careful planning. Both Mouth and woman have big, new houses. Do they have to take the one thing I have, my style? Do they want that too? What else do they want from me, my life?
Leave me with the one thing I have, please. Leave me that. But no, they had to take it. SHE had to take it.
These obsessive fiery thoughts would not stop going around and around in my head yesterday. I had to talk to Sis. She is awesome, she is so awesome that my next post will be about her, to counteract the angst that is Mouth and everything about her that I despise.
Sis helped me. She tried to get me to see it in a different light. She suggested the conclusions that Hubbie and I had already come to: that we don't tell them where we buy our things in the future - we be vague if ever asked; and that this whole situation was a lesson learnt for the future. She didn't see it in the way I did, because she says she's had a friend copy her thing, and she's even copied another friend for something. But see, it's the way you go about it. My sister is very honest, and would admit to the person how much she loved it and that she was intending to buy one for herself. Mouth however is sneaky. She gives me praise - just enough - but not so much that I thought she really liked it. Then she organised a shopping day with woman, they went off and bought it without a mention of it to Hubbie and I. When it was too late, it was all bought and done.
Hubbie agrees. He's not so hung up on it as I am, but when I asked him, he admitted "I'm spewing." He didn't have to have someone copy him his whole life to make him want to be original and have different things. It's so annoying.
You know what else? We have this other 'kitchen item' a 'coffee machine' (not really, still hypothetical!) that she's asked us about, and I've said that we've bought it in a far-off region. She also knows that some of our other home furnishings are from that 'far-off region.' Guess where Mouth and her family went a couple of weeks ago? To the far-off region! What, you need another coffee machine? Get your own fucking style you leeches!
Geez, do they want to copy our whole house? The thing that peeves me off, is as I said in reference to my Sis, they're not honest. Admit you like it. Say it out loud and MEAN IT. Unlike them, who often snub their noses at things we've seen, things we've bought, and things we've done (like going to the far-off region) and then they explode with fireworks and expect you to shower them with attention when THEY GO!
I know, I know. Narcissists, in every sense of the word.
We're actually going to find a whole new, different, unique and original fruit bowl with matching salt and pepper shakers. In a couple of months we're going to a similar far-off region, and I'm going to go into as many shops there as I can, and find something bigger and better. (See how we have to buy something different because of other, annoying people?)
And THEN when they say "oh, you have different ones?!"
I'M going to say "yes, I like to have truly original pieces unlike anything anyone else has."
And I hope that that boils her and makes her feel PATHETIC. Copy cat.
What I hope for most? That after this realisation I make her come to (and I will) that she will always see my face in her fruit bowl and salt and pepper shakers. Forever.
And I hope she can live with herself for that. Because denial doesn't ever change the fact.
Let's play the hypothetical game again, with not so hypothetical people, and a not at all hypothetical situation.
Let's say, I have some really nice kitchen items. To make this game easier, I'll say I have a beautiful fruit bowl, with matching salt and pepper shakers that sit beside it. It took me ages to find something this beautiful, unique and original in the modern style Hubbie and I were going for in the kitchen (remember, hypothetical!) So when we got it and put it in there a couple of months ago, we were like "Ahhhh." Looks good.
Now, about a month ago we had Mouth over with another couple. During the course of the visit, after she had been to my kitchen, she commented to me "oh, I like your fruit bowl, and the salt and pepper shakers. Really nice. Where did you get it?"
I was probably slightly thrown by the fact that she never really notices anything or anyone but herself, and it seemed she was giving me a genuine compliment for my kitchen things. I said quite casually "oh, from blah and blah."
I didn't think much of it. I later heard from Hubbie that the other couple who were over, well the woman expressed how much she really liked my kitchen things, and added "they're from blah and blah, yeah?"
When Hubbie told me this I was like "no! She can't get the same things as us!" But the knowledge that the shopping centre we got it from wasn't exactly local, kept me secure in the fact that she wouldn't go there by herself and get them. She could just safely admire them from a dsitance whenever she was at our house.
So I forgot about it.
Just recently, we found ourselves at this woman's house. Mouth was there also, and some other people. A couple of hours into it, Hubbie whispers to me "have you been to the kitchen?"
He has a weird look on his face. "What?" I ask, confused.
"She bought the things." He's smiling but I can see his expression is really wary, judging me and how I'm going to react. My mouth drops open as I realise what he's talking about. I'm gaping.
"Don't overreact. Don't make a scene."
I get up immediately and march to the kitchen. My heart drops when I get there, when I see MY fruit browl and matching salt and pepper shakers.
I am in absolute shock. She bloody went there. She went to the shopping centre, to the exact same shop and bought the same bloody things as me. And now her kitchen looks like mine.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
I am completely deflated. Dismayed, upset, devastated, shocked. Hubbie reads my face as I come and sit back down. "Don't jump, you don't know the full story. Don't be upset, ok?" I'm wondering at his words, wondering what the hell extra there is to know that would make this situation better for me, but I try to push it out of my mind, not wanting to appear obvious.
Not too long after that, I'm talking to Mouth. And somehow, in conversation, she says "so last weekend I went to blah shopping centre with woman, to get those things at blah shop, you know your kitchen things?"
All the pieces are falling into place. But it's actually getting worse for me.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, we went and bought them."
The word we I'm having an especially hard time with. It's sticking out like a sore thumb in a sentence of fingers.
"You went and bought the exact same things?" My tone is dead, expressionless. I'm numb with shock.
"Yeah." Her response is almost questioning. As if she's trying to work out what my take is on all of it.
She goes on and on as my heart sinks deeper.
"They have good priced forks there, you know," she waffles on. (hypothetical forks!)
"Yeah," I say flatly. "That's why I like it there. I like to get good, different things that arent the same as everyone else."
There's a distinct pause. I can hear her thinking. Then, because she's a fucking tool, she continues unaffected.
Phew. I need to calm down.
Perhaps I need to give you a little back story, so you can understand my strong aversion to copying.
Growing up, I had a friend, let's simply call her copy-cat. Enough said, right? In primary school she would read off my work, and when I'd catch her I'd yell out "stop copying!" She would say back angrily "I'm not copying!" And yet she would still do it, peering over my arm which I tried to protectively cover my work with.
All my friends knew. When she was near them she would try to copy their work too. But because my regular seat was next to her, I got the brunt of it.
Copy-cat and I went to the same high school. Here, I didn't have as many classes with her, but the rest of my friends there soon found out how she was, and again she was accused of copying. The annyoing thing with her was that she would copy you, and then make her work better. That was the aggravating thing. That and obviously denying that she was even plagiarising our work.
It was easier for me in high school, knowing my friends there could see what I could see. But then as I thought I lost her annoying habit, I gained the same habit in someone else. My cousins Legs and Hair.
Now I absolutely love them to pieces, I really do. But there was a time when I was growing up, and them being younger than me and looking up to me of course, that they would imitate me. They liked the things I liked. They dressed like me. And on and on. At one stage one of them confided to me that their own grandmother said to them "You should be more like Miss S." Although I was only 14 at the time, I lost it when I heard this. "Screw her! Don't be like me, or anybody else, be your own person!"
And they did, and I'm so proud of my adopted sisters for what they have grown into.
But what I'm trying to show here is that I had a lot of copying of me over the years, copying that scarred me, and that has made me want to be completely original, different and unlike anybody else. The more people copied me, the more I shied away and tried to be even more original and unique.
So that, on top of the fact that I have to mentally imagine kicking Mouth like a football far off into the distance just to get her annoyingness out of my head, has got me so unbelievably pissed off that you can't imagine.
I can't believe, that she went and bought the exact same things as me. She not only went into the same shop (which is fine) but she bought the exact same things! Has she no shame? Is she not embarrassed, does she not feel pathetic? I would be completely ashamed of buying the exact same thing as someone else, and then have them come into my house and see that I've copied them. How shameful! Shame, shame, shame.
The reason I'm not having a go at the other woman - though I am still upset! - is because Hubbie said to me not to be. She's older, and she looks at other people for home ideas. She doesn't know. I exhaled loudly when I heard this. I'm still exhaling. I wanna do it for him, but it's not easy. I would do anything for him though.
But Mouth. Mouth is younger than the woman. She's older than us. (Another shameful thing, copying people younger than you) She should know better. When the woman called Mouth and said "I want to get the same things as Miss S," Mouth should have said "No, that's embarrassing, we'll go and get something different."
Mouth, the same Mouth who would have a go at someone for copying her. The same mouth who only ever praises or talks about herself. The same mouth who never gives anyone recognition. Do you think when guests comment on her kitchen things that she's going to be honest and say "I copied Miss S' style"? No! No she won't because she is a narcissist!
Argh! I'm so furious. I can't take it. The saying about imitation being flattery, is a load of bullshit. It's not flattery for someone whose suffered the effects of people trying to steal her style for only HER ENTIRE LIFE.
It absolutely boils me to my core. Do not copy me! Especially you, Mouth! I can't stand it, I'm absolutely fuming with anger.
Hubbie and I don't have the biggest house. But with what we have, we try to make the best of it, and put really fine touches to our house to make it unique. We buy quality items, interesting pieces, and all the furnishings show attention to detail and careful planning. Both Mouth and woman have big, new houses. Do they have to take the one thing I have, my style? Do they want that too? What else do they want from me, my life?
Leave me with the one thing I have, please. Leave me that. But no, they had to take it. SHE had to take it.
These obsessive fiery thoughts would not stop going around and around in my head yesterday. I had to talk to Sis. She is awesome, she is so awesome that my next post will be about her, to counteract the angst that is Mouth and everything about her that I despise.
Sis helped me. She tried to get me to see it in a different light. She suggested the conclusions that Hubbie and I had already come to: that we don't tell them where we buy our things in the future - we be vague if ever asked; and that this whole situation was a lesson learnt for the future. She didn't see it in the way I did, because she says she's had a friend copy her thing, and she's even copied another friend for something. But see, it's the way you go about it. My sister is very honest, and would admit to the person how much she loved it and that she was intending to buy one for herself. Mouth however is sneaky. She gives me praise - just enough - but not so much that I thought she really liked it. Then she organised a shopping day with woman, they went off and bought it without a mention of it to Hubbie and I. When it was too late, it was all bought and done.
Hubbie agrees. He's not so hung up on it as I am, but when I asked him, he admitted "I'm spewing." He didn't have to have someone copy him his whole life to make him want to be original and have different things. It's so annoying.
You know what else? We have this other 'kitchen item' a 'coffee machine' (not really, still hypothetical!) that she's asked us about, and I've said that we've bought it in a far-off region. She also knows that some of our other home furnishings are from that 'far-off region.' Guess where Mouth and her family went a couple of weeks ago? To the far-off region! What, you need another coffee machine? Get your own fucking style you leeches!
Geez, do they want to copy our whole house? The thing that peeves me off, is as I said in reference to my Sis, they're not honest. Admit you like it. Say it out loud and MEAN IT. Unlike them, who often snub their noses at things we've seen, things we've bought, and things we've done (like going to the far-off region) and then they explode with fireworks and expect you to shower them with attention when THEY GO!
I know, I know. Narcissists, in every sense of the word.
We're actually going to find a whole new, different, unique and original fruit bowl with matching salt and pepper shakers. In a couple of months we're going to a similar far-off region, and I'm going to go into as many shops there as I can, and find something bigger and better. (See how we have to buy something different because of other, annoying people?)
And THEN when they say "oh, you have different ones?!"
I'M going to say "yes, I like to have truly original pieces unlike anything anyone else has."
And I hope that that boils her and makes her feel PATHETIC. Copy cat.
What I hope for most? That after this realisation I make her come to (and I will) that she will always see my face in her fruit bowl and salt and pepper shakers. Forever.
And I hope she can live with herself for that. Because denial doesn't ever change the fact.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
The 4 rules of train etiquette
1. Ensure that you are clean and fresh before embarking on your journey. Do not expect to be welcomed, smiled at or have any kind of civility directed towards you if you have the strong stench of B.O enveloping and following you wherever you go. That is just not cool man. Have a shower for freak's sake.
2. Do not talk loudly on the train, either to your pretend fun friend on the phone, or to the rest of your posse friends who you think actually like you, but are actually, just, tolerating you. You annoy the people listening to their ipods, as the shrill volume of your voice actually breaks all headphone barriers, (yes it does, you hyena) and for the others trying to read or sleep, well you bug the hell out of them. We don't want to know about how you can't eat salt and vinegar chips (really, I don't care whether they make your eyes water or not; they taste good, you soft, poor excuse for a being!) We want to other read about Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy in peace, or escape to our fantasy world's and go to the far-away land of slumber, where snacks aren't the be-all and end-all of our existence. Shhh.
3. Do not invade the personal space of others. Do not brush up against them. Do not breathe down their neck as you try to read the book they have open before them. Don't spread out all your crap so that others have to do long jumps to get out of the train. If you don't know the other passengers, don't act like you share the same bed with them, otherwise you will be assumed a stalker, you creepy weirdo.
4. Do not stare. Didn't your mother teach you that? Oh sorry, I forgot you've never seen a women with boobs before. You come from another universe where only men and their penises exist.
And for the women, do not look up and down. Do you not have my bits?
Any starers can be expecting a slap, or a greasy at the least. Really.
By adhering to these rules you will be ensured a safe, happy and comfortable trip to your destination. Thank you for your time passengers. We look forward to you travelling with us next time (except for the dirty, loud, creepy oglers....)
2. Do not talk loudly on the train, either to your pretend fun friend on the phone, or to the rest of your posse friends who you think actually like you, but are actually, just, tolerating you. You annoy the people listening to their ipods, as the shrill volume of your voice actually breaks all headphone barriers, (yes it does, you hyena) and for the others trying to read or sleep, well you bug the hell out of them. We don't want to know about how you can't eat salt and vinegar chips (really, I don't care whether they make your eyes water or not; they taste good, you soft, poor excuse for a being!) We want to other read about Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy in peace, or escape to our fantasy world's and go to the far-away land of slumber, where snacks aren't the be-all and end-all of our existence. Shhh.
3. Do not invade the personal space of others. Do not brush up against them. Do not breathe down their neck as you try to read the book they have open before them. Don't spread out all your crap so that others have to do long jumps to get out of the train. If you don't know the other passengers, don't act like you share the same bed with them, otherwise you will be assumed a stalker, you creepy weirdo.
4. Do not stare. Didn't your mother teach you that? Oh sorry, I forgot you've never seen a women with boobs before. You come from another universe where only men and their penises exist.
And for the women, do not look up and down. Do you not have my bits?
Any starers can be expecting a slap, or a greasy at the least. Really.
By adhering to these rules you will be ensured a safe, happy and comfortable trip to your destination. Thank you for your time passengers. We look forward to you travelling with us next time (except for the dirty, loud, creepy oglers....)
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