I crack myself up re-reading this post, so I had to bring it over here:
My former employer- who many of you know - seems to be obsessed with me. Part of her obsession manifests itself in her assuming that I am obsessed with her and her stupid company.
Now, some of you might stop me here and say, "But Kelli, you're taking the time to write a blog about her. That could be construed as at least being unable to let the past go, don't you think?" And you may be right, gentle reader. However, I defend myself by saying that... SHE STARTED IT!
I will not name her - since I fully believe her pact with Satan involves her being able to sense the use of her odios moniker - but most of you know her or have heard me speak of her. I'm sure you also know about her melting candle wax face and her wide, expressionless psycho baby doll eyes. And for these things I pity her. All her piles of money can't keep her from having to sleep hanging upside-down from the ceiling each night or stop her cheekbones from sliding into her clavicle.
I can picture her now - eating at MCL in a ballgown or buying her way into another organization - and, I will admit, my mind fills with cold hate. BUT... there's another picture of her that floats through my head: her, shoring up her melting face by gathering folds of skin and stapling them behind her ears, sitting in her white marble office with her princess phone and her fake quill pen from 1985 (the last year she was relevant). She is alone. Utterly alone. THIS picture makes me laugh and laugh.
In the end, how could I (or anyone else) be obsessed with someone so tragic?
Thursday, July 8, 2010
I think we all know the answer to this one.
And another post from myspace...
Can people change? Can they really, really change?
If I say 'no,' then that means I can't change either... means I can't evolve, mature, or essentially alter my character in any way. And that's just depressing. Who doesn't believe that they will someday overcome those bad habits, destructive tendencies, idiotic psychoses? That - deep inside - there germinates the seed of a beautiful new tree of life? That maybe they are just sleeping inside a chrysalis of their own making, which will one day crack open and reveal a totally different person?
If, on the other hand, I say 'yes'... I am ignoring years of hard evidence to the contrary. It is foolish to think you can change a person and many times even more foolish to believe someone who says that he/she will change. If you let yourself walk blindly down this road, then I have no advice for you, only the pity of one who's been there and found no end to it. (As someone once said, "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice and clearly you've found the right person to fool.")
I think the crux of the matter is this: people can change... but only if they truly want to change. No one can fix your problems for you, just as no one can identify them. I believe that if a person recognizes and understands his/her issues, and wants to do something about it/them, then they can change. The important thing for us, the bystanders with hope beating away in our chests, to recognize is the difference between a person who wants to change and a person who says they want to change.
And while you're trying to decide if someone really wants to change or is just telling you what you want to hear, remember this: people don't always need to change just because we think they should. The world is not our dollhouse; we should never attempt to rearrange lives on a whim. Love is accepting someone for who they are. If you want someone to overlook your faults, be prepared to overlook theirs.
Can people change? Can they really, really change?
If I say 'no,' then that means I can't change either... means I can't evolve, mature, or essentially alter my character in any way. And that's just depressing. Who doesn't believe that they will someday overcome those bad habits, destructive tendencies, idiotic psychoses? That - deep inside - there germinates the seed of a beautiful new tree of life? That maybe they are just sleeping inside a chrysalis of their own making, which will one day crack open and reveal a totally different person?
If, on the other hand, I say 'yes'... I am ignoring years of hard evidence to the contrary. It is foolish to think you can change a person and many times even more foolish to believe someone who says that he/she will change. If you let yourself walk blindly down this road, then I have no advice for you, only the pity of one who's been there and found no end to it. (As someone once said, "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice and clearly you've found the right person to fool.")
I think the crux of the matter is this: people can change... but only if they truly want to change. No one can fix your problems for you, just as no one can identify them. I believe that if a person recognizes and understands his/her issues, and wants to do something about it/them, then they can change. The important thing for us, the bystanders with hope beating away in our chests, to recognize is the difference between a person who wants to change and a person who says they want to change.
And while you're trying to decide if someone really wants to change or is just telling you what you want to hear, remember this: people don't always need to change just because we think they should. The world is not our dollhouse; we should never attempt to rearrange lives on a whim. Love is accepting someone for who they are. If you want someone to overlook your faults, be prepared to overlook theirs.
Waxing Poetic
Another blog post from myspace. Really just an excuse to type out my favorite poem.
"Each and All" by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Little thinks, in the field, yon red-cloaked clown
Of thee from the hill-top looking down;
The heifer that lows in the upland farm,
Far-heard, lows not thine ear to charm;
The sexton, tolling his bell at noon,
Deems not that great Napoleon
Stops his horse, and lists with delight,
Whilst his files sweep round yon Alpine height;
Nor knowest thou what argument
Thy life to thy neighbor's creed has lent.
All are needed by each one;
Nothing is fair or good alone.
I thought the sparrow's note from heaven,
Singing at dawn on the alder bough;
I brought him home, in his nest, at even;
He sings the song, but it cheers not now,
For I did not bring home the river and sky;
He sang to my ear,—they sang to my eye.
The delicate shells lay on the shore;
The bubbles of the latest wave
Fresh pearls to their enamel gave,
And the bellowing of the savage sea
Greeted their safe escape to me.
I wiped away the weeds and foam,
I fetched my sea-born treasures home;
But the poor, unsightly, noisome things
Had left their beauty on the shore
With the sun and the sand and the wild uproar.
The lover watched his graceful maid,
As mid the virgin train she strayed,
Nor knew her beauty's best attire
Was woven still by the snow-white choir.
At last she came to his hermitage,
Like the bird from the woodlands to the cage;
The gay enchantment was undone,
A gentle wife, but fairy none.
Then I said, "I covet truth;
Beauty is unripe childhood's cheat;
I leave it behind with the games of youth:"
As I spoke, beneath my feet
The ground-pine curled its pretty wreath,
Running over the club-moss burrs;
I inhaled the violet 's breath;
Around me stood the oaks and firs;
Pine-cones and acorns lay on the ground;
Over me soared the eternal sky,
Full of light and of deity;
Again I saw, again I heard,
The rolling river, the morning bird;
Beauty through my senses stole;
I yielded myself to the perfect whole.
For centuries, Man has come up with a variety of answers to the questions, "Who are we?" and "Why are we here?" Generally, these answers develop and define our relationship to ourselves, the universe, and our deity/supernatural force of choice. We explain things and derive comfort from it. It is said that realizing how insignificant and infinitesimal you are in relation to the cosmos will drive you mad.
I, on the other hand, find comfort in the fact that I am nothing on my own. That I am but a small drop in a vast ocean of beings and forces. Because, as the poem suggests, 'small' does not have to mean 'unnecessary.'
And the bellowing of the savage sea
Greeted their safe escape to me.
I wiped away the weeds and foam,
I fetched my sea-born treasures home;
But the poor, unsightly, noisome things
Had left their beauty on the shore
With the sun and the sand and the wild uproar.
The lover watched his graceful maid,
As mid the virgin train she strayed,
Nor knew her beauty's best attire
Was woven still by the snow-white choir.
At last she came to his hermitage,
Like the bird from the woodlands to the cage;
The gay enchantment was undone,
A gentle wife, but fairy none.
Then I said, "I covet truth;
Beauty is unripe childhood's cheat;
I leave it behind with the games of youth:"
As I spoke, beneath my feet
The ground-pine curled its pretty wreath,
Running over the club-moss burrs;
I inhaled the violet 's breath;
Around me stood the oaks and firs;
Pine-cones and acorns lay on the ground;
Over me soared the eternal sky,
Full of light and of deity;
Again I saw, again I heard,
The rolling river, the morning bird;
Beauty through my senses stole;
I yielded myself to the perfect whole.
For centuries, Man has come up with a variety of answers to the questions, "Who are we?" and "Why are we here?" Generally, these answers develop and define our relationship to ourselves, the universe, and our deity/supernatural force of choice. We explain things and derive comfort from it. It is said that realizing how insignificant and infinitesimal you are in relation to the cosmos will drive you mad.
I, on the other hand, find comfort in the fact that I am nothing on my own. That I am but a small drop in a vast ocean of beings and forces. Because, as the poem suggests, 'small' does not have to mean 'unnecessary.'
I'm still here!
I've decided to actually try to maintain this thing once again. I don't know what it is about this blog that makes me neglect writing; I was pretty prolific over at myspace... Anyway, in an effort to become motivated again (and as a way to cheat - hee hee), I'm transferring as many posts as I can from my myspace blog. Here's the first one:
So, last night I watched a special on PBS (Yes, I watch PBS. Buzz off, nimrod.) about the science of attraction...
A group of scientists gathered 20 men and 20 women and put them through a series of tests with the goal of matching each one with at least one other member of the group. They used facial similarity mapping, compatibility tests, body-morphing software, and, finally, actual one-on-one encounters to compile data on each individual.
Facial similarity: this takes your face, maps it, and then compares it to faces of members of the opposite sex. The theory is that people are attracted to other people with similar facial features. Ever seen those couples who they look like they could be sister and brother? This is why.
Compatibility tests: theirs was the "CQ" test and consisted of over 100 questions covering every topic conceivable.
Body-morphing software: they asked the men and women to "create" their ideal body type for the opposite sex. They then put all the different selections together to create an average desired shape for both sexes.
One-on-ones: participants had two types of speed dates. The first was simply for gauging first impressions. A woman would sit down in front of a man, then they would both adjust dials hidden on their respective sides of the table to indicate how attracted they were to that person - no talking allowed - and then move on to the next person. The dials ranged from 1 to 100; 100 being the person to whom you were most attracted. The second date was three minutes long and was the participants' chance to ask questions of each other. The dials were reset to the levels chosen after the first dates, and the men and women could lower or raise them based on how they now felt about the person after the second date.
Well, good effort all the way around, guys. Bravo for trying. What they found is that there were too many variables to accurately predict to whom someone would be attracted. (Maybe they heard me yelling at the television screen.) The people with similar facial features were creeped out by each other. The compatibility tests were not foolproof. And the body-morphing only revealed this chestnut: men are attracted to women with good waist-to-hip ratios. Preferences for other areas were varied, but this quality came up consistently across the board.
The thing I found amusing about the one-on-one encounters was that the women participants were in almost all cases giving the men higher ratings on the attraction dials after the second date, suggesting that they were interested in more than physical appearances. The men's dial ratings, on the other hand, changed very little from the first to the second date. (To be fair, the women could certainly have upped the attraction level on the second date after hearing, "I'm a rich doctor" or something similarly superficial.) Along the same lines, was the fact that the women's body-morphing choices (which averaged out to something like a muscle-bound guy who hadn't gone to the gym in a bit) went right out the window when it came to the actual dates. They did however rate for attraction based on height. Soooo... skip the gym, guys, and just... be tall.
Sadly, ladies, it seems you do need to put your fullblown face and knock-em-dead heels on when going to the grocery store (if you're on the prowl, that is). If his first impression is bad, you probably won't get a chance to make another one...
So, last night I watched a special on PBS (Yes, I watch PBS. Buzz off, nimrod.) about the science of attraction...
A group of scientists gathered 20 men and 20 women and put them through a series of tests with the goal of matching each one with at least one other member of the group. They used facial similarity mapping, compatibility tests, body-morphing software, and, finally, actual one-on-one encounters to compile data on each individual.
Facial similarity: this takes your face, maps it, and then compares it to faces of members of the opposite sex. The theory is that people are attracted to other people with similar facial features. Ever seen those couples who they look like they could be sister and brother? This is why.
Compatibility tests: theirs was the "CQ" test and consisted of over 100 questions covering every topic conceivable.
Body-morphing software: they asked the men and women to "create" their ideal body type for the opposite sex. They then put all the different selections together to create an average desired shape for both sexes.
One-on-ones: participants had two types of speed dates. The first was simply for gauging first impressions. A woman would sit down in front of a man, then they would both adjust dials hidden on their respective sides of the table to indicate how attracted they were to that person - no talking allowed - and then move on to the next person. The dials ranged from 1 to 100; 100 being the person to whom you were most attracted. The second date was three minutes long and was the participants' chance to ask questions of each other. The dials were reset to the levels chosen after the first dates, and the men and women could lower or raise them based on how they now felt about the person after the second date.
Well, good effort all the way around, guys. Bravo for trying. What they found is that there were too many variables to accurately predict to whom someone would be attracted. (Maybe they heard me yelling at the television screen.) The people with similar facial features were creeped out by each other. The compatibility tests were not foolproof. And the body-morphing only revealed this chestnut: men are attracted to women with good waist-to-hip ratios. Preferences for other areas were varied, but this quality came up consistently across the board.
The thing I found amusing about the one-on-one encounters was that the women participants were in almost all cases giving the men higher ratings on the attraction dials after the second date, suggesting that they were interested in more than physical appearances. The men's dial ratings, on the other hand, changed very little from the first to the second date. (To be fair, the women could certainly have upped the attraction level on the second date after hearing, "I'm a rich doctor" or something similarly superficial.) Along the same lines, was the fact that the women's body-morphing choices (which averaged out to something like a muscle-bound guy who hadn't gone to the gym in a bit) went right out the window when it came to the actual dates. They did however rate for attraction based on height. Soooo... skip the gym, guys, and just... be tall.
Sadly, ladies, it seems you do need to put your fullblown face and knock-em-dead heels on when going to the grocery store (if you're on the prowl, that is). If his first impression is bad, you probably won't get a chance to make another one...
Sunday, December 13, 2009
C'mon, Wheel - squeak!
I'm not big on needing people.
Self-sufficient, independent, aloof - call it whatever you like - that's me. I know that I can always count on myself. And sometimes I can count on others, but mostly it's me who gets the job done. Throw me into a work-related scenario and the words "self-starter" and "anticipatory" get added to the abovementioned list. Basically, I need very little coaching or hand-holding; I know what needs to be done and I do it.
Now let's talk about that good ol' Squeaky Wheel - the whiner, complainer, and all around assistance-sucking vacuum that exists in every work arena. This person (or, if you're hideously lucky, there may be more than one) is like that bad kid in your elementary school class; he/she takes up most of the teacher's time with his/her antics and deprives the other children of attention. (Who has time to congratulate the spelling bee winner when Snotface McGee has set fire to the blackboard erasers again?) The workplace Squeaky Wheel rolls around and makes a lot of noise - complaints about his pay or his latest assignment - until someone greases him down... and makes you exceedingly jealous in the process because you may feel like complaining too, but you're keeping your mouth shut and "doing your job."
As you might have guessed, I'm not a Squeaky Wheel. I, in fact, am a Painfully Silent Wheel. Some might even call me Martyr Wheel - give me the biggest, heaviest cart and I'll carry it forever. I don't ask for help and I generally don't need it. But what I do need - like everyone else - is to be appreciated. And while that Squeaky Wheel is squeaking away, it seems as though there's hardly a glance given to the rest of the wheels on the cart. Eventually, even the strongest wheels wear down if you don't check them over from time to time.
So, the moral, I guess, is to squeak once in awhile - even if you feel silly doing it. Me, I'm off to set fire to some blackboard erasers!
Self-sufficient, independent, aloof - call it whatever you like - that's me. I know that I can always count on myself. And sometimes I can count on others, but mostly it's me who gets the job done. Throw me into a work-related scenario and the words "self-starter" and "anticipatory" get added to the abovementioned list. Basically, I need very little coaching or hand-holding; I know what needs to be done and I do it.
Now let's talk about that good ol' Squeaky Wheel - the whiner, complainer, and all around assistance-sucking vacuum that exists in every work arena. This person (or, if you're hideously lucky, there may be more than one) is like that bad kid in your elementary school class; he/she takes up most of the teacher's time with his/her antics and deprives the other children of attention. (Who has time to congratulate the spelling bee winner when Snotface McGee has set fire to the blackboard erasers again?) The workplace Squeaky Wheel rolls around and makes a lot of noise - complaints about his pay or his latest assignment - until someone greases him down... and makes you exceedingly jealous in the process because you may feel like complaining too, but you're keeping your mouth shut and "doing your job."
As you might have guessed, I'm not a Squeaky Wheel. I, in fact, am a Painfully Silent Wheel. Some might even call me Martyr Wheel - give me the biggest, heaviest cart and I'll carry it forever. I don't ask for help and I generally don't need it. But what I do need - like everyone else - is to be appreciated. And while that Squeaky Wheel is squeaking away, it seems as though there's hardly a glance given to the rest of the wheels on the cart. Eventually, even the strongest wheels wear down if you don't check them over from time to time.
So, the moral, I guess, is to squeak once in awhile - even if you feel silly doing it. Me, I'm off to set fire to some blackboard erasers!
Monday, August 31, 2009
Mea Culpa? Yeah, right.
Whatever happened to, "My fault - sorry" ? Somthing so simple, but yet - in absentia - so meaningful.
Nothing is ever anyone's fault anymore. I see this every day in my personal and professional life. Quick to defend, quick to spin, quick to deflect - never quick to apologize. There's a lot of, "I only did that because I was given bad info," or, "Yes, I forgot, but it's because I'm really busy, " or even, "My mistake is really a positive thing in the end because of blah blah blah." Or, my personal favorite, the Passive-Agressive Pass-off: "I did that because you didn't tell me to do otherwise and I assumed you'd tell if you wanted it done differently." What's the big deal? Why won't people just admit their mistakes and move on?
I understand - no one wants to be wrong/at fault. No one wants to fail at anything. It makes you feel stupid. But who among us is perfect? (This is where someone should shout, "Kelli Kern!" :) )
And if you're never wrong or never make a mistake, then you're probably some psycho robot from the future sent to annihilate the human race. And I can't have that.
Nothing is ever anyone's fault anymore. I see this every day in my personal and professional life. Quick to defend, quick to spin, quick to deflect - never quick to apologize. There's a lot of, "I only did that because I was given bad info," or, "Yes, I forgot, but it's because I'm really busy, " or even, "My mistake is really a positive thing in the end because of blah blah blah." Or, my personal favorite, the Passive-Agressive Pass-off: "I did that because you didn't tell me to do otherwise and I assumed you'd tell if you wanted it done differently." What's the big deal? Why won't people just admit their mistakes and move on?
I understand - no one wants to be wrong/at fault. No one wants to fail at anything. It makes you feel stupid. But who among us is perfect? (This is where someone should shout, "Kelli Kern!" :) )
And if you're never wrong or never make a mistake, then you're probably some psycho robot from the future sent to annihilate the human race. And I can't have that.
Friday, June 12, 2009
If Wishes Were Fishes...
Sometimes the cards just all fall into place. Once again, life has brought me the motivation I need (and just in the nick of time!) to begin the next chapter of my story. I'm glad it finally arrived; I was beginning to become seriously anxious. But, now that it's here, I have to wonder if I had to get to this point - on the brink of the brink - in order to truly appreciate this gift.
Or maybe 'gift' isn't the right word. 'Chance' is probably more appropos. Any way you look at it, I wanted it and I needed it, so I'm ecstatic that it's finally here!
It won't be all smooth sailing from here on out, but the view is certainly more pleasant (and my frame of mind more positive) than it was before. And I think that's what counts.
Or maybe 'gift' isn't the right word. 'Chance' is probably more appropos. Any way you look at it, I wanted it and I needed it, so I'm ecstatic that it's finally here!
It won't be all smooth sailing from here on out, but the view is certainly more pleasant (and my frame of mind more positive) than it was before. And I think that's what counts.
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