You Can't Turn Down An Invitation You Don't Receive

At the end of a 13 hour day, I'm slumped on my bed, laptop on chest, waiting for the lullabies of Jimi Hendrix lull me to sleep. Since I'm only 97% asleep, here's what's occupying the 3% of my brain that's keeping me awake.

A certain he-who-must-not be named (not Voldemort, but close) finally decided to visit California after...forever (there's a post about the day he left, waaaay back in the blog). I was not notified of this visit. I only knew about it because my sister saw that he'd posted a Facebook status about it, and tagged the people he wanted to see (mature). Though I don't have much to say to him (well, I do, but none of it's nice), and I didn't really want to see him face to face, I wanted him to ask to see me so I could turn him down.

Is that awful of me? Eh. I think he did his fair share of awful things back in the day, and frankly, it's a moot point, because you can't turn down an invitation you don't receive. I guess he wins this round.

And now that I've (oh-so-vaguely) vented, hopefully I'll be able to sleep.

Goodbye My Lover

(10 points if you immediately associated this post's title with the overly-dramatic James Blunt song)

I've had a persistently upset stomach for longer than I can remember.  My reaction to most medical(ish) issues is to ignore them and hope that they go away, but this stomachache isn't going anywhere.  Last night, I came across an article about the existence of a correlation between carbonated drinks and stomach issues. *Lightbulb moment!*  I drink ridiculous amounts of soda on a regular basis, and yet somehow I never considered the fact that consuming unhealthy amounts of air, bubbles, chemicals and sugar could be the cause of my problem. I've occasionally pushed around the idea of cutting out soda in the past, but I've never had a compelling enough reason to actually go through with it until now.  I'm hoping that the lack of carbonation (and fake sugar, in the case of Coke Zero) will make me feel better, which is totally worth cutting ties with one of my all-time greatest loves in life. Goodbye my lover, goodbye my friend.

Whatever Doesn't Work

Sometimes, when I'm angry or upset about something trivial (ie. doesn't concern imminent death or homelessness), I'll try to put things in perspective by thinking about the fact that there are people in truly awful situations. However, this usually just adds a layer of guilt on top of whatever it is that I am angry or upset about. In order to prevent karma from wreaking further havoc upon my life, here's a 3/4-assed apology letter:

Dear people of the world in truly awful situations: 

I'm very sorry about whatever is happening in your life, and I hope it gets better soon.  Nothing is terribly wrong with my life, yet I am sitting in my room moping about the fact that my skin looks like crap and my perpetual stomachache is preventing me from leaving the house to run errands. Take solace in the fact that one day, when awful things are actually happening in my life, I'll look back on my younger self and realize what a shallow idiot I was.

Sincerely,

The Above Mentioned Shallow Idiot

Excuses

Sorry for not posting anymore. Here are my excuses.

35%: my life is boring
65%: nobody actually reads this

Fantasy

...Real Life...
Partner/Senior Manager/Anyone Above Me: Dana, I have this really important fill-in-the-blank  that needs to get done right away. Do you have time to squeeze it in?

Me: Sure, I'll stop what I'm working on and start it right now.

...My Fantasy...

Partner/Senior Manager/Anyone Above Me: Dana, I have this really important fill-in-the-blank  that needs to get done right away. Do you have time to squeeze it in?

Me: Nope. Do it yourself.

The Know-Nothing Party

Warning: I'm about to attempt to recall information from my high school AP U.S. History Class. I took this class seven years ago....

During the civil war (or maybe a different war...I don't remember), there was a political party called the Know-Nothing Party. Basically, whenever a member of this party was questioned by officials about their knowledge of any war-related information, they would claim that they didn't know anything about it (the kicker: they did!)

Turns out, the Know-Nothing party still exists at work, though not intentionally. It also turns out that I am the only member of this party.

I am writing this post while taking a break from power cleaning my room. Why? Because my mom is coming into town to be my +1 for a Norah Jones concert (the tickets were free from work) and spending the night. Coincidentally, the Norah Jones tickets are what clued me in to the fact that I know nothing.

Confused? You should be. Anyway, like I said, the concert tickets are free because a bunch of people form my office are going together. Back in May, when we were asked how many tickets we wanted, my teammate reserved two: one for him and one for his wife. This past week, when we got the email to go pick up our tickets, that teammate said he didn't think he was going to go to the concert after all. "Oh, come on!" I said excitedly, "Let's go get our tickets! You can't tell me that Sarah [his wife] doesn't want to go."

Awkward snickers.

Later, while we were driving to the Sony lot for fieldwork, my teammate casually mentioned that he and his wife (Sarah) has separated a few months ago, and the snickers were because nobody realized that I didn't know about it until I put my over-enthusiastic foot in my mouth. Oops.

The next day, I found out that my other teammate's wife is having a baby next month when another teammate suggested a Vegas trip the weekend of her due date and dad-to-be jokingly said "Let's Go!" I didn't realize he was joking, because I knew nothing about said baby. Everyone else had known for months.

So, either I have an invisible sign on my forehead that says "Don't Tell Me Anything!" or I am leaving the modern revival of the Know-Nothing Party.

Triple Stuff

I have three thoughts today! Okay, so I've actually had about ten billion thoughts today, but I have three things to share.

1) This is the unfortunate state of my back bumper. Here's what happened: I came home from work, ate dinner, went out for a walk, and about 30 minutes later got a call from my roommate that started off "Don't be mad, but--" Apparently she and a friend were switching our cars and her friend did not mind the cement beam next to our spot. I'm not sure when I'll have time to get it fixed, but I should probably do it sooner than later. Sorry Jud (Jud = name of my poor injured car)

2) Okay, so item 1 was more of a story, but one is a revelation I had earlier in the week: the relationship between age and maturity is not the same for all people. I tend to expect that anyone older than I am will be more mature, though this theory has proven to be untrue multiple times.  I was expressing my thoughts on the matter to a friend on Monday, and mid-rant, she stopped me to pose the question: "Why would you assume that everyone starts off at the same level of maturity and matures at the same rate over time? Some people are always mature, and others never mature." Hmm. Very true. I wish I'd thought about that sooner, because I've wasted too much time worrying about my own future based on older people I know whose lives aren't together. Now that I think about it, every one of these people that cause me to worry are less mature than I am now (and hopefully I'll be more mature than I am now by the time I'm their age). So, even though nothing has changed, I feel better.

3) As of yesterday at 4pm, I'm headed back to Sony next week, probably for the entire week. Hmm...