I went to Sephora the other day for some retail therapy, since I don’t like shopping for clothes since I’ve eaten myself into a two ton Tessie. Anyway, I got some nice new stuff that I really liked.
I tend to quit wearing make up when I don’t feel so good about myself. So I’m trying to care what I look like etc, so the new colors that are out for spring were very enticing and I found great satisfaction in selecting new colors, powders and gloss and picked up some staple products as well, (Mascara, foundation etc). I felt like a new me when I put the new product on in the morning.
So, my husband (who is a total sweetie and this is totally out of character for him) picks me up after work yesterday. I say, hey, do you like the new make up that I picked out? He’s like, yeah, you look ok. I’m like, oh, just what every girl wants to hear, you look ok!!! I was laughing, and his reply… What do you want me to do, lie and say you look great? Whaaa Whaaaa. He wasn’t joking, it was not malicious and he wasn’t agitated, it was one of those moments of unbridled honesty that usually come from small children, and occasionally adults when they let their guard down. He of course then tried to back peddle and say nice things and dug himself further and further into a hole.
I guess the moral of the story was, the old me would have been crushed by this, but now it didn’t even really bother me. I guess that is the trade off, when I was at my youngest, prettiest and thinnest, I was two insecure to appreciate what I had. Now that I have lost all of that stuff, I have the confidence to not care.
I am working on the fitness aspect of my appearance, I am working on eating heathier. So far it has been working. It's not an easy thing but it's obviously necessary.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Here goes nothin'
Well, okay, so I started this blog with the best of intentions of keeping it up, and yes, as you can see from the posting dates, I have not. Here's my excuse...
My office went through some major downsizing, my beloved insane boss decided to go march to the beat of his own drum, and I have been left here to do the work that had previously been done by four and a half people. I was shocked that I was not "reduced" as a part of the "redundancies" that lead into the formation of our new company, which is just a division of a large conglomerate, where people are reduced to six digit numbers. Pretty much all of the interesting work that I had has been taken away and I process reports, answer phones and try to leave before 7pm each night.
Anyway, here are some insights that I found during the process of almost being laid off:
I feel that I should state that although I am very sad to no longer be working with my beloved Jefe supremo, I find the social dance that happens after such life events to be an interesting study in human behavior. I fancy myself an armchair psychoanalyst, and thought that I would try to capture the events of the day. It is my sincere hope that others can benefit from my experience and have an easier transition into being bossless in a corporation that is downsizing.
The best reaction:
The people that know you well enough to know that you actually liked your boss look at you with a bit of sincere pity and a reassuring smile. Your friends say, how ya’ doin’ Bon, everything alright? These friends will also call to check up on you, and offer to take you to lunch to reassure that even if you don’t have a job, you sure got a friend. What more can you ask for?
Info hounds:
These are the people that normally do not even say hello to me in the elevator suddenly express a vested interest in my wellbeing. After a quick and surprising, “How are you doing” They quickly launch into lots of personal questions, like, “when did you find out”, “what are you going to do” and expect me to divulge information about my and my boss’s future plans and all the terms surrounding his departure. Obviously I don’t know anything so there is nothing to share, but I am perpetually amused that apparently they think that I am stupid enough to fall for their feigned interest in me personally. Such departures include confidential agreements to which I would not be privy. However, because you would be amazed at what rumors can be extrapolated from the simplest of sentences, I play completely dumb. I could win the world series of playing dumb, and have hit a couple of home runs at the game today, (yes I view it as a sport) so any information that I do have, is perfectly safe with me. Since they already think I’m dumb enough to answer their questions in the first place, I don’t have to try that hard… I actually sometimes like to pretend that I know everything and am just not telling them because this angers them and then they leave me alone, at least until the next time that they want something from me.
Casual nodders:
Next you have your casual acquaintances. These are the people that you run into making coffee each morning and after exchanging some pleasantries, you both head on to tackle your day. Some of these folks don’t really know what to say to you outside of the realm of weather and the taste of the day’s brew, so they smile nervously, sometimes nodding at you, and look away to preserve your privacy, or at least to avoid what they feel could develop into an uncomfortable conversation. When in doubt, they mind their own business, and I have found that those are words to live by.
Creepy nodders:
These ones approach you with a painted on smile in expectation that you will tell them the details of what has happened. These tend to nod as well, as if to say, go ahead, tell me what you are thinking… I won’t tell anyone (until you walk away)! They differ from the Info Hounds because since they cannot dream up an interesting segue into a conversation, they just smile creepily and nod, sometimes with a tilt of the head. These people confirm themselves as idiots and their names and likenesses should be recorded in the back of the mind to avoid ever wasting precious breath on a conversation with them.
Bug Faces:
Some have a weird look, kind of like they are staring at a bug that is accelerating toward a windshield toward it’s imminent doom. There are two subsets to this reaction. Some carry the expression of horror, waiting to view your imminent demise. Although they are socially awkward, you cannot hold it against them, they just don’t know how to react.
Cold calculators:
These react with a weird fascination as if they can’t wait to see you, the proverbial bug, explode against the windshield of unemployment during a bad economy. The look could also be described as a strange satisfaction to see that you are in a compromised position. Their eyes are slightly squinted and they wear a smirk that shows, without words, their distain for you. Perhaps it could be the expression of someone doing a statistical analysis surmising that if you are being displaced, it increases their chances of retaining employment. The cold calculators are my least favorite people. Especially since I bought one of them lunch a couple of times to discuss issues that she was having. I guess that’s what I get for taking an interest in a bug face…
Sometimes these ones had some previous knowledge about the situation and are relieved that the information is now public. They also like to tell everyone that they knew about it, but couldn’t say anything… This is where it gets tricky, because you would think that you would want to avoid them like a creepy nodder, but you don’t. You see, you need to keep them close to you because they cannot be trusted. Keep your friends close, your enemies closer, but the cold calculators… you have to keep them close enough to see the whites of their squinted eyes.
My office went through some major downsizing, my beloved insane boss decided to go march to the beat of his own drum, and I have been left here to do the work that had previously been done by four and a half people. I was shocked that I was not "reduced" as a part of the "redundancies" that lead into the formation of our new company, which is just a division of a large conglomerate, where people are reduced to six digit numbers. Pretty much all of the interesting work that I had has been taken away and I process reports, answer phones and try to leave before 7pm each night.
Anyway, here are some insights that I found during the process of almost being laid off:
I feel that I should state that although I am very sad to no longer be working with my beloved Jefe supremo, I find the social dance that happens after such life events to be an interesting study in human behavior. I fancy myself an armchair psychoanalyst, and thought that I would try to capture the events of the day. It is my sincere hope that others can benefit from my experience and have an easier transition into being bossless in a corporation that is downsizing.
The best reaction:
The people that know you well enough to know that you actually liked your boss look at you with a bit of sincere pity and a reassuring smile. Your friends say, how ya’ doin’ Bon, everything alright? These friends will also call to check up on you, and offer to take you to lunch to reassure that even if you don’t have a job, you sure got a friend. What more can you ask for?
Info hounds:
These are the people that normally do not even say hello to me in the elevator suddenly express a vested interest in my wellbeing. After a quick and surprising, “How are you doing” They quickly launch into lots of personal questions, like, “when did you find out”, “what are you going to do” and expect me to divulge information about my and my boss’s future plans and all the terms surrounding his departure. Obviously I don’t know anything so there is nothing to share, but I am perpetually amused that apparently they think that I am stupid enough to fall for their feigned interest in me personally. Such departures include confidential agreements to which I would not be privy. However, because you would be amazed at what rumors can be extrapolated from the simplest of sentences, I play completely dumb. I could win the world series of playing dumb, and have hit a couple of home runs at the game today, (yes I view it as a sport) so any information that I do have, is perfectly safe with me. Since they already think I’m dumb enough to answer their questions in the first place, I don’t have to try that hard… I actually sometimes like to pretend that I know everything and am just not telling them because this angers them and then they leave me alone, at least until the next time that they want something from me.
Casual nodders:
Next you have your casual acquaintances. These are the people that you run into making coffee each morning and after exchanging some pleasantries, you both head on to tackle your day. Some of these folks don’t really know what to say to you outside of the realm of weather and the taste of the day’s brew, so they smile nervously, sometimes nodding at you, and look away to preserve your privacy, or at least to avoid what they feel could develop into an uncomfortable conversation. When in doubt, they mind their own business, and I have found that those are words to live by.
Creepy nodders:
These ones approach you with a painted on smile in expectation that you will tell them the details of what has happened. These tend to nod as well, as if to say, go ahead, tell me what you are thinking… I won’t tell anyone (until you walk away)! They differ from the Info Hounds because since they cannot dream up an interesting segue into a conversation, they just smile creepily and nod, sometimes with a tilt of the head. These people confirm themselves as idiots and their names and likenesses should be recorded in the back of the mind to avoid ever wasting precious breath on a conversation with them.
Bug Faces:
Some have a weird look, kind of like they are staring at a bug that is accelerating toward a windshield toward it’s imminent doom. There are two subsets to this reaction. Some carry the expression of horror, waiting to view your imminent demise. Although they are socially awkward, you cannot hold it against them, they just don’t know how to react.
Cold calculators:
These react with a weird fascination as if they can’t wait to see you, the proverbial bug, explode against the windshield of unemployment during a bad economy. The look could also be described as a strange satisfaction to see that you are in a compromised position. Their eyes are slightly squinted and they wear a smirk that shows, without words, their distain for you. Perhaps it could be the expression of someone doing a statistical analysis surmising that if you are being displaced, it increases their chances of retaining employment. The cold calculators are my least favorite people. Especially since I bought one of them lunch a couple of times to discuss issues that she was having. I guess that’s what I get for taking an interest in a bug face…
Sometimes these ones had some previous knowledge about the situation and are relieved that the information is now public. They also like to tell everyone that they knew about it, but couldn’t say anything… This is where it gets tricky, because you would think that you would want to avoid them like a creepy nodder, but you don’t. You see, you need to keep them close to you because they cannot be trusted. Keep your friends close, your enemies closer, but the cold calculators… you have to keep them close enough to see the whites of their squinted eyes.
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