Musings from the Monkey Book

That’s right folks, I’m looking for a co-star in this ridiculousness that is my little world.  I’ve had some nice guest stars, recurring and one time only, some remarkable cameos too. But, I feel it is time to work on a more permanent addition to my ensemble cast.

First off, I’m looking for a male. Although, I should mention that there are always parts for females, just not the co-star role.

Age range: 25-40 (quite a range, huh!  but I’m leaving myself open. The higher end of this range is uncharted territory for me.  I’ve been dating boys in their mid-twenties since I was 16, but I’m willing to see how the other side lives. )

Physical Traits: nothing too specific here.  Prefer dark hair, ideally quite short or shaved. Eye color is negotiable, although dark eyes and blue eyes melt my butter. Strong arms preferred. Must be taller then 5′8″—to avoid upsetting shoe choices for me.

Style: Jeans and t-shirts are best.  Camo cargo shorts and a white t-shirt is a lovely summer look to me. Must be willing to wear a jacket, suit, khakis, etc as the need arises (which would be minimal).

Accessories: baseball cap, cowboy hat, guitar(or other stringed instrument), tattoos…..all of those will be not only accepted but will definitely get bonus points.

Mandatory: passion for something (ideally me, but that can come later) Music would be good, NASCAR would be bad….I’m just saying.  Must love dogs, at least my dog. Must deal with cats, at least my cats.  Must be willing and able to talk and listen, as well as say nothing. Must be somewhat financially stable (poor and needy used to be cute, it no longer is).  Must understand that I have guy friends, who mean the world to me. Must also understand that I have girl friends, who I sometimes MUST spend time with.

So, that pretty much covers it. I mean, really I could go on forever. Things like “no necklaces” come to mind….but it’s not a deal breaker. “Adaptibility” also springs to mind, but if you have made it through life without being adaptable, well, godspeed with that. Plus, lacking the ability to adapt would probably take you out of the casting pool anyway.

Recommendations welcome. The pay scale isn’t high, monetarily, but I’ve got other things to give. Take that however….

…..and I’m not sure how I feel about it.

I do believe that I am growing up.

I know, I know, it’s sad.

I went to Cali for Christmas this year. Will probably be the last Christmas I spend there (but I promise not my last time to go there—PROMISE!) and I had intentions of doing all kinds of “LA” things while there. What did I end up doing? Not much, not much at all. Was it a good time? HELL YES! I got to spend lots of time with my girls and my mom and my dog. Ate good food. Watched Degrassi: the next generation. Played my new wii.Not big time crazy partying, but oh so much better!

For the record, Michelle and I DID go to Vegas for about 24 hours and it was amazing! We had a lot of fun, drank not a single cocktail (but lots of Starbucks!) and visited the busiest In-n-Out I have EVER witnessed.  But it wasn’t the Vegas of my past. Sleeping on slot machines because we didn’t want to “waste money” on a room….not so much.  Planning our play to maximize our free cocktails…nope.  But it was soooo fun!

It is this type of thing that makes me pretty sure I’m growing up. No longer is my life about doing as much as I can, it is now about doing things that I like to do with the people I love to spend time with. I had as much fun watching little Jamie play with Noodle as I ever had dancing the night away in a drunken stupor at a club in West Hollywood.

Growing up isn’t what I thought it would be. Really, few things in life have been what I thought they would be. However, growing up may be better. I don’t really care what people think about me spending most nights at home watching TLC. An afternoon at the dog park is one of my favorite activities (and no hangover!) I hang with the people I love and who love me and try to not waste my time with those who I have lukewarm feelings about.

It’s kinda cool…..I think.

For what it’s worth, I DID drink myself silly on NYE. I admit it, my grown up state isn’t completely permanent yet. But it was NYE, I was easily 10 years older then most of the people I was with. I had champagne with a bright pink label and ballet shoes on it. We were listening to NSYNC.  It had to be done.

Viva 2009. I think it’s going to be a good one

In the United States at the end of 2001, 10% of the population owned 71% of the wealth, and the top 1% controlled 38%. On the other hand, the bottom 40% owned less than 1% of the nation’s wealth.

I am not a socialist and do not think that wealth should be distributed equally…..but if 1% of the population controls over 1/3 of the nation’s wealth, you better be damned sure that they should pay more money…it’s simple math.

If I make $10,000 and pay 10% in taxes, I pay $1,000 in taxes.

If I make $1,000,000 and pay 10% in taxes, I pay $100,000 in taxes.

I am not more burdened by taxes if I make $100,000.

Oh—and the government isn’t going to steal your bike.  Taxes are a responsibility that goes along with the privilege of being an American.  If the Conservatives hate taxes so much—what is it they love to say, “Love it or leave it.”

(p.s.–I don’t believe that love it or leave it is in anyway a valid argument for anything, I just like to use people’s words against them. It’s how I roll.)

Confession time.

This could be a shock to some. But probably not to anyone who reads this.

I’m a …………..LIBERAL.

I would say Democrat, but I think the two party system is divisiveand antiquated. But Liberal I’m fine with. However, I keep this under wraps a lot of the time. If I don’t know someone’s opinions on things, I won’t bring up possibly controversial topics. It’s the Mid-westerner in me, don’t like to ruffle feathers. If I know we don’t share views on politics, I don’t feel the need to talk about it. Nothing either one of us is going to say is going to change the other person’s mind…not at this point.

Perhaps it’s just my perception, but I feel like Conservatives/Republicans are more free with sharing their opinions. But maybe it is simply another language phenomenon, such as when people speak in a foreign language, it sounds so much louder.

I love America, but like many of the things, people, etc…that I love, it’s got problems. Admitting those problems and wanting to fix them does not make me less patriotic. I think America is an amazing place to live, but I don’t think that others who don’t live here are less then as a result. I am proud and fortunate to have been born in America, but understand that most of the advantages to living here are a result of the hard work of those who weren’t born here. 

I believe in freedom, but I know it’s anything but free. That said, I would like to see the country be concerned about the freedom of OUR citizens, not those of other countries. I want our military home, and not just because I like to look at military boys, but because I hate the idea of people dying for something that no one really understands and is completely unjustified.

I believe in love. I believe that anyone who is fortunate enough to find love in their life with someone they want to spend the rest of their life with should be able to do so and reap the benefits that come with that, even if it’s just social acceptance and being able to be in a hospital room with your loved one.

I believe in choice and have an almost impossible time understanding how anyone can think that “choice” is a dirty word. Every person should have control of what they do with their body. I’m not talking about abortion exclusively, although safe and legal abortions are crucial, I’m talking about choice as to what I can do at any time to my body. I fear that if the government feels it can tell me that I can’t end a pregnancy, it will tell me that I can’t try a experimental drug or get birth control because I’m single and shouldn’t be having sex. It’s a slippery slope….and my balance isn’t good.

I believe in America. I believe that we are a country of dreamers. I believe that we are a country of folks who can get things done. But I mostly believe we are a country that can, and most importantly SHOULD, embrace change. Wouldn’t we all rather be the kid on the playground who is popular for being nice, not feared? I would…but then again, popularity is something I’ve always wanted. We Americans are like that.

…..this is my favorite Olympic commercial.

So, I’m obsessed with a girl. It’s weird. She looks so familiar, yet so foreign. I have questions for her. I want to be her. I think she seems like a cool person. She looks so confident and carefree and, dare I say, pretty.

Would you like to see her?  Well, here ya go:

Ok, so it’s me. But is it really? It’s a random self portrait taken while wearing little make-up, having a bad hair day and nursing a bit of a sunburn. But with some color correction and artful cropping, she’s this beautiful thing. Sure, it’s totally narcissistic to say that a photo of myself is beautiful, but in this case it’s ok. See, I feel completely removed from the person in this photo. I can’t make this girl correspond with the person in the mirror. If there were special glasses I could hand out that made it so people saw me like this girl, I’d go back into debt to buy them. I’d hand them out to all the boys who don’t see me as anything but a friend (when I would like it to be more). I’d give them to the girls who would never think of me as competition for the attention of men. I’d keep a pair for myself for those days, and there are many, where I think I am anything but attractive.

While waiting for such glasses to be produced, what can I do? How can I translate the confidence I see in this picture to my world? How to I get others to see me more like this picture and less like whatever it is they see me as. How do I survive in a world where color correction and artful cropping just aren’t always available?

Here’s some insight into the fairer sex.

WE TALK!!! A LOT. About other people. Not disparagingly, just and exchange of information. Gossip isn’t bad, it is merely a rumor or report of an intimate nature. It only has the power that is given to it by responding to it in a grand manner.

If you tell us something that you don’t want anyone else to know, make sure we understand that. In addition to talking a lot, we are good listeners and respect others greatly and are often times loyal to a fault. If we tease you about something you have told us, it’s just that.. TEASING! We do it out of love.

The less secrets that are out there, the better the world will be in general. And really, if you told one person, is it really a secret?

I have waxed poetic about the way the air smells in Tennessee. How when I cross the border I open my car windows and just take in deep breaths of that sweet nectar.

Recently I have figured out how Tennessee does it.  Somewhere the state takes a bath with this stuff .

I used it at my Dad’s house while watching the Laker’s lose the championship a few weeks ago and just sat there with my hands over my face. I looked like I was intesely watching the game, but in reality I was smelling my hands……

Since my Dad is out of town right now, I had to go water his plants yesterday. I did so on the way back from the dog park. There is something “not so fresh” about a visit to the dog park, so I decided to wash my hands. I was reminded of the glorious soap that awaited my handwashing. The devil on my shoulder made me take the bottle and slip it in my purse, swearing to replace it before my Dad gets home.  I rushed home and took a shower with it and DAYUM—I smelled so good.

Used it for my shower this morning and I STILL smell good.  I think I have to get the whole line of products with this scent and go to town.

Sure, I can get obsessed….but it’s soap! No one will get hurt by my obsession and with the heat of Tennessee summer bearing down on us, perhaps I will smell good enough to distract from some other person’s funk.

It could happen.

or “Why being a people pleaser is dumb!”

For the vast majority of my early life, I was “the loud one.” I had a voice that carried. I got in lots of trouble in school for talking too much and too loudly. I was always the one who got in trouble at slumber parties for talking after lights out. Ask my mom, she will confirm–but don’t tell her I have a blog please, she doesn’t understand them and will think it’s a disease or something.

As many things in my world tend to do, the pointing out of this “issue” made me super sensitive about it. I made a point to speak softly as much as possible.

Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit, apparently I am an overachiever in the “speak more softly” category of life.

I am constantly being told to speak up. It’s infuriating!  I will repeat things over and over until I realize that even I don’t care what I’m saying anymore.

I worry that I speak even softer due to the inevitable hearing damage I have as a result of liking to be right up front at shows. However, the majority of my blame will go to all those teachers and mothers who told me I talked too loud.

I’d go yell at them…..but they’d probably not be able to hear me.

OK, there’s no way in hell I can actually write any sort of guide for taking a compliment. It is something that I simply cannot do.

Prime example, this morning one of the account managers on a particularly pesky client came in and praised me for keeping so on top of things. I immediately go into some random rant about how it’s just my job and the client is insane and it’s no big deal, etc… Fuck that. I’ve worked my ass off for this client. Bending the rules of the time/space continuum to get things done, worked vendors to the point of breaking. Damn right I’ve been on top of things. I’ve been so on top of things that it’s sickening. If given the chance to respond to his praise again, I hope I would say “Thanks for noticing. It’s been a lot of hard work.”  But I probably wouldn’t.

If someone happens to compliment something I’m wearing,  I simply must point out something about that item that makes it “less then”; the price, where it came from, how it doesn’t really go with something else I have on, blah blah blah. Why must I do that.

My favorite thing I do when presented with a compliment is basically argue with the person. Let’s say someone says, “Hey, your hair looks good today!” I will proceed to tell them that it needs to be cut or colored or brushed or something. Essentially, I am telling this kind person that they are full of shit and need to get their eyes checked. Nice!

Do I do this because I’m female? Insecure? Because it’s not nice to think too highly of one’s self? Because humility is best?

I blame global warming……..