Gum in My Hair

An embarrassingly honest blog

Perception vs. Reality November 9, 2011

Filed under: Blush Face — dulcedementia @ 4:28 pm
Tags: , ,

Lately, there seems to be this rumor going around that I’m always busy, busy, busy. Well, yes, in the evenings I do have a lot of activities that I enjoy and that tends to be what people hear about, but I just wanted to let you in on this little lesson I learned back a few jobs ago about perception versus reality.

I was working for a startup and we hadn’t set core hours yet, so I would come in at around 9:30 or 10 most days, but I would stay until around 9 pm, working well over 9 hours most days. The problem was, no one else was stating that late, so everyone thought I was slacking off and some people were complaining that I wasn’t working as hard as everyone else simply based on the fact that the saw me saunter in at 10 am most days.

So, my boss and I had a heart to heart (it was touching, really) and he told me all about success and perception versus reality. I took the lesson to heart and started making sure that I was there about 10 minutes before most people in the mornings and that I stayed about 10 minutes later than most people. Guess what? Suddenly, everyone was impressed with how hard I was working! When, in fact, I was doing no more work than they were, I was just a criminal mastermind.

So, without further ado, the perception of my life to just about everyone I know casually (and also proof of why I am a copywriter and not a fucking art director or pretty much anything that requires any perception of depth or photo editing skills):


Christ. This is just shameful, lazy photo editing.



And the reality of about the 12 of the 17 hours I am awake most days (including the weekends):


Thanks to ragemaker.net for making me look like I know how to make a cartoon.



You don’t have to feel sorry for me. Just know that, since I work from home and have to obey little to no social mores, I probably drool a lot more than the average employee.

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My Biggest Fear March 28, 2011

Filed under: Blush Face,Shut Your Mouth! — dulcedementia @ 10:02 am
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Yeah, yeah, yeah. Most of you know I’m pretty bad about heights (do not EVER touch me if I’m more than 3 feet off the ground; I will freak the fuck out on you) and a lot of you are amused by my irrational fear of moths and butterflies (erratic flight patterns!), but what I really want to write about today are my true fears. The fears that paralyze me and the fears that drive me. I’m feeling particularly vulnerable today, so what the hell, instead of shutting down, I’m going to open up and let myself be even more vulnerable.


There are a couple facets to one big, overarching fear that I have. This fear has permeated my life since I was a junior in high school when one parent described me to her friend’s daughter as “pretty plain looking.” These weren’t words said in malice. I heard them from a third party and I’m sure that a parent wouldn’t talk shit about an 11th grader to actually do damage. That one phrase was the seed for my biggest fear in the world: that I am utterly forgettable.

Butterflies: A study in terror.



When I left high school, I made a very conscious decision that I would NOT be that shy little girl in the corner anymore. I would be outgoing, I would be loud and I would be fun. And I went to college in Southern Indiana and I did those things. I REALLY did those things. I made sure no one would forget me, and in the process, I developed a pretty shitty GPA. That problem was rectified later on when I graduated from the School of Journalism at CU with a 3.9 (Damn you, dad, for being right when you said, “But if you would just apply yourself, Kelly…”).


As I grew up I made tons of amazing new friends and I’ve loved them all, and I would do just about anything for anyone of my friends. But still, in the back of my mind, I worry that I’m just that plain girl that’s utterly forgettable and that the people I hang around simply tolerate me because they would feel guilty telling me they’d rather be hanging out with someone a little more interesting. You know, less plain.


It permeates my relationships. When I start dating someone, I become super girlfriend. I take on all my SO’s activities. Their problems become my problems. Their loves become my loves. I ensure my place as an unforgettable girlfriend by getting the perfect birthday gifts, treating my dude to surprises all the time and, well, I dynamite in the sack, so… there’s that too. But still, there are days when I am overwhelmed with the idea that I’ll never be good enough. That, soon enough, they’ll tire of me and they’ll move on to someone else more memorable and forget about me completely (which, of course, becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy).


OK, so these are the negatives of my fear. This is the side of my fear that grips me with a stranglehold when I’m alone in bed at night. There is another side of this fear that’s good though. It’s part that I kick in the nuts each week and tell, “Fuck you! I’m gonna go out into the world and I’m going to meet tons of new people and have fun new adventures each week! You aren’t going to make me lay around in bed and wallow in my own self-pity! Here, have another nut jab!”


That part of my fear drives me. It is the reason I love my life so much today. It’s the reason I go out and take risks and put myself out there for everyone to see. And I really, really love my life right now. It’s everything I wanted, but never would have dreamed I could have.


Now, if only I could just reign in that whole negative part, I would be totally set.

 

I Need A Back Rub November 29, 2010

Filed under: Blush Face — dulcedementia @ 2:04 pm
Tags: , ,

Seriously. It hurts a lot. It’s not to chiropractor levels, but it hurts. This image about sums up the sensation I have going on between my shoulder blades.




Yeah. So my upper back is filled with searing white hot pain and my lower back is like a constant throbbing baseline of aches. And I’m sitting int he office chair trying to pretend that it’s not affecting my day, when really it is.


So, really. I need a fucking back rub. I don’t want a sen-sue-all massage. I want someone to rub my back, get all of these stupid knots out and in return, maybe I’ll make you pancakes.


All I know is I can’t afford a massage therapist right now, but I need someone to just kneed my back for a good 30 minutes.


So, what do you say? I’ll trade you for, I dunno… what do I do well… I could write something for you. Or I could buy you a beer. I’m good at those things.


Also, if we agree to this deal, you have to promise not to tell anyone about the way I moan when I get a back rub, ok?

 

With Apologies to the Bride October 27, 2010

Filed under: Blush Face — dulcedementia @ 1:07 pm
Tags: , ,

I am only 4 days into this vacation and it’s apparent why I am best suited for a life of cubicles and rolling chairs. This is because, as I have discovered, it is absolutely impossible for me to avoid bruising or cutting myself while moving around all day.


So far, on this trip, I have managed to slice my quad on the blade of a boat propeller, bruise the other quad in the same location (also either running into the blade, or something else the same height and the same night while I was drunk), bruised my right bicep and elbow, and the middle of my back after I fell off the bed while jumping on it.


I guess some of this is par for the course with how clumsy I am, and this wouldn’t really bother me that much, but I am not down in the Bahamas for no reason. I’m here to be one of several lucky bridesmaids in my friend Tiffany’s wedding. This fact makes me feel a little guilty about the way I’ve treated my body with reckless abandon. Excluding the sheer amount of alcohol I have imbibed (and will continue to drink) over the last couple days, I have made a train wreck of my body.


So, my lovely and wonderful friend has to endure my black and blue legs, arms and back coloring up all of her wedding photos, the processional and the beautiful beach wedding in general. Yeah, I said beach wedding. There’s no covering these suckers up with a long dress or nylons. They will be shining away, in all their swollen, mottled glory.


Luckily, one of my fellow bridesmaids is just as accident-prone as I am, and has managed to garner several amazingly large bruises as well, so I will not be alone walking down the aisle bruised and battered.


Also, Tiffany is just about the most awesome bride ever and our instructions are as follows: Don’t get sunburned.


I’m adding an addendum to that request and saying another rule is this: Don’t get a black eye.


Given the rate I’m going, it may be the most difficult rule I’ve ever had to follow in my life.


Post Wedding Update: I did not get a black eye, but I did get sunburned. Shit.

 

Learning to Ask for Help September 27, 2010

Filed under: Blush Face,No Common Sense — dulcedementia @ 1:54 pm
Tags:

I had a conversation with some of my lady friends over the weekend about how we can never seem to ask for help when we need it, then this post over at Talk Thirty to Me popped up in Facebook this morning and I think they sort of coincide nicely with each other.
I am an independent woman. I am strong, loud, outgoing and like the fact that I don’t need to rely on anyone in order to live my life. I’ve been living this way for a while, despite having been in several relationships.
Both in these relationships and out of them, one of THE hardest things for me to do in my personal life has been to feel comfortable asking for help. Whether it is emotional, physical or financial, I feel like an utter failure when I have to look to someone other than myself for help.
Currently, I’m kind of in one of those pickles, but I cannot bring myself to “burden” anyone with the stress of my life. It seem like asking someone to share my stress or pain would be far too much for me to ask of any of my friends or family. Besides, I’m a strong woman, shouldn’t I be able to handle this myself?
For me admitting I need help means admitting I am weak. And I can’t be weak.
Can I?

 

The Crate September 8, 2010

Filed under: Blush Face — dulcedementia @ 12:00 pm
Tags: , ,

I have this crate. It’s sitting by the door of my apartment. Sometimes it’s in the closet, but I thought it would be leaving this weekend, so I took it out.


In this crate are the remnants of a year and a half. Sadly, it’s not much. There are a few shirts, some deodorant, a toothbrush and a couple decorative Coors trays. And the crate sits there by the door. Staring at me. Reminding me.


I just want the crate to be gone. Not because I’m angry. Not for spite. Not to have someone out of my life for good.


That crate is a daily reminder that sometimes, love is not enough. The crate is a reminder that it takes two people to work at a relationship. No matter how strong the love is, if other key factors like trust, compromise and a certain level of vulnerability don’t exist, there’s no hope for anything solid. No matter how hard you fight to have something stable.


But since it looks like the crate is going to be here for a while, waiting for its owner to come pick it up, I think I need to make this crate represent some better things.


This crate needs to represent the time when I finally stood up for myself. When I finally said, you know, I’ve been there for you, but you’ve never been there for me. It represents me finally saying I deserve to be trusted. I deserve to be loved unconditionally. I deserve stability.


The crate should represent the first time in my life when I finally said, no. When I finally decided to choose myself over others. When I got tired of being the martyr for a cause.


At some point the crate will be gone. How I’ll feel about that, I don’t know. But what I do hope is that I don’t need the crate to remind me that I deserve good things. And the first good thing I deserve is respite. A little peace and time to rekindle old friendships and let new ones flourish.


Because I deserve to be happy just being alone for a while.

 

Today’s Perfect Song August 31, 2010

Filed under: Blush Face,No Common Sense — dulcedementia @ 3:08 pm
Tags: , ,

Oh holy fucking hell. This song just popped up in Pandora and it pretty much describes the way I feel today. To a ridiculously perfect degree.

 

 
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