Ramblings – Day Eight

Tech Community

Generally I am a deep thinker.  This is a bad thing in today’s culture.  If you are able to think on a deep level – nobody really wants to hear.  That is, until they hit a really rough patch in their life – then, when they are not able to think of anybody who they can talk to, really talk to – they think of the deep thinkers.  And that is when we get called.

Ponder this for a moment – if some severe calamity comes across your path and you feel shook to the core, who do you call? First thought would be family – mom, dad, sister, or brother.  Mainly because they know you well enough to be able to talk to you and you would know that they had your best interest in heart.  Second thought would be pastor, cop, lawyer, counselor, or that deep thinker, those folk who deal with the real stuff of life day in and day out.

Yes it is true.  What is sad is that our community is now technology driven.  Do we even ‘talk’ anymore? Not really.  We text, email, twitter, facebook, pinterest, whatever involves typing letters into some device which creates pixels on a screen which the other person reasons and types back.  Pixels.  That is what our tech community is – pixels.

We wonder why there is so much anxiety, depression, suicide, alcoholism, rage, abuse and on and on and on … one reason, a reason that has my vote – pixels of the tech community.  Generally for work, I believe that most of us sit at a desk, typing into a keyboard, to create pixels.  For recreation, mostly watch pixels on a larger screen.  It would be interesting, the day in which pixels are no longer.

Pixels … a minute area of illumination on a display screen, one of many from which an image and/or text is composed.

Pixels, the heart of the tech community.






Ramblings – Day Seven


When I began this blog a few weeks ago – it was mainly a place for me to come anonymously and vent, rant, rage, and talk it out with a world unseen.  Initially I was flattered by the likes and the comments until I learned a bit more about how this all works.  I’m not flattered anymore.  Flattery is over-rated anyhow.

The odd thing is – once I began getting liked and commented and emails and whatever, I began to think differently about what I was doing here.  I actually gave more thought about what I wanted to ramble about and that messed me up.  This was for me and not anybody else.  When I realized people were reading – uh oh – not only me anymore.

Venting – oh my how we need it now a days.  Just to talk to somebody to verbally vomit all over them and they get it, they just get it.  They don’t take your venting and change it to some political arena in which they can express their views.  Or take offense – heaven forbid I said something in a venting spew that offended you.  Seriously? When I vent – its my venting, not your commenting.  Follow that?

And .. the pressure to be correct, calm, funny, nice, kind, aggressive, pleasing, pushy…the pressure to be whatever we think we need to be projected by those who need us to be the way they needs us to be in order to feel okay, right, and good about themselves. Ugh! Yuck.

Everybody does this pressure projection. I do it – every day.  I want certain people to be a certain way so I can have a calm, productive, relaxing day. Yet, I get ticked when I’m myself (venting or not) and somebody else can’t handle it on that particular day.  We are all hypocrites aren’t we? Along with being hypercritical and hypersensitive and easily offended.  We want one thing, get it, want something else.

Hey – I’m just venting for me. Next time…

Ramblings – Day Six


Touchy subject for most.  Avoidable subject for others. My subject for today.

Personally, I think the people with depression have it right and everybody else is mixed up.  Have you taken a look at the world around you? Really looked?  It isn’t a good place to be, live, raise our children, and experience life.  Europe. America. India. China. Africa. Whichever world you live in – it isn’t a nice, safe, warm-fuzzy, loving place.

Life is hard. If you think otherwise you are either drugged into a state of delusional happiness, blind, have extremely low life standards, or have accepted the facts.  Why would anybody want to live in this world? Especially if there is a heaven and I believe their is a heaven.

If you had two choices in front of you – live here, on this planet. Or live in heaven, utopia. Which would you pick? Oh…you could take your loved ones along, by the way.

In my experience those who die, and we all will, the loved ones are the only tangible things effected and affected by the death. Whatever job that person had – filled.  Whatever money that person had – given to somebody else. The ‘stuff’ of this world, either taken or given to somebody else. The only thing that cannot be replaced or filled is that individual.

Maybe it is that the ones who are depressed are more in tune with how great life really could be and are simply distraught that it is not while feeling powerless of having any impact.

Ramblings – Day Four


Today’s rambling is about people who irk us.  Isn’t that a great sounding word? Irk.  Generally, it means in my terms – to grate our nerves and generally make us angry for no apparent reason.  Irk is very similar to annoy, which means to irritate by troublesome, often repeated acts. Also, Irk is similar to irritate, which means to make someone impatient, angry, or annoyed.  It’s not a specific conflict, it’s just that they irk us.  How I see it, there are two types of irking.

Irking can be done deliberately or not.  Deliberate irking is the worst kind in my opinion as you want to keep your cool, to let them know that what they are doing is not working and you’re staying calm but … deep down you want to take an iron skillet and smash it into their face.  This form of irking is childish and most often happens with children to anger their parents or siblings, whilst they giggle making one more angry. It can also occur with adults in which they enjoy the power they have to arouse anger in another.  This is comical, as long as I’m not the one in who the irking is directed.  Grown men, mostly men as I have rarely if ever seen women display this behavior, do deliberate irking in sports, work, or in social dating settings.  Be it children or adults, the purpose of irking another is to “Get Their Goat”*.

Non-deliberate irking is when people are simply being themselves on a day that you are not able to deal with them being them.  This is my area of issue and the area of my rambling today.  People, and only certain people, have the innate ability to piss me off just by being them … and I’m sure they don’t mean to, I’m positive it is not deliberate irking.  Have you had this experience? It’s a good person in the core, meaning no harm, but when they talk – oh my gosh – fingernails on a chalkboard.  Or when they laugh – skin cringes.  Or when they clear their throat for the fiftieth time in a meeting – you want to scream? Yep, that’s me.

  • Work Irk Guy – he has to be the one talking and he has to talk long.  I want to interrupt and say, “Really? Shut it! Yes or no will suffice”, but I sit calmly expressionless ready to pounce for his eyeballs.  You know, the guy who likes hearing his voice and he likes sounding like he has something important to say but…no … not so much.
  • Drama Irk Girl – she always has a problem that is greater than any problem on the earth at the moment.  She’s distraught because it rained on lawn day and oh my goodness, she will have a breakdown of mass proportions.  She will talk and talk and talk about it to anybody who will listen – ugh.  Irking.
  • Irk Brown Noser – the boss asks you a question, and brown noser answers the question.  Brown noser has to sit by the big boss, do whatever he/she needs right then, have all the answers, fawning over the boss, following them around… “Just stop it, please, take a look at yourself.” or “Hey, found your lips – stuck to your boss’s arse.”.
  • Needy Irk –  this is the worst one for me.  Needy Irk.  I feel bad that they irk me but they so do. Have to be attended to, attention on them, part of the conversation, see me! see me! type of irker. I get that this is rooted in insecurity and I’m an insecure person, we all are but stop it. You are not going to die. Stop it.

After some thought, I really think that the basic level of irking is differences in personality such as an extravert vs introvert or thinker vs a feeler, you know that Meyers Briggs thing we did in college – that.  I’m a thinker and yes, a feeler who is overly feely – just leave, get away, please.  What were the other ones … intuitive vs sensing and judging vs perceiving.

Projection as well, psychological projection is a basic level of the issue.  I’m not a psychologist by any means but in an attempt to figure this out … in my terms. Projection related to irking is when there is something inside of me that I detest or overvalue, then I see it in somebody else and I am irked.  For example, I overvalue my independence and have a difficult time relying on others.  The Needy Irk is the projection of that value.  Another, I detest that I am addicted to nicotine and believe I need it to stay civil in life. Therefore, when I see somebody having to have a drink – that reminds me that I have to have a cigarette and therefore, they irk me.

I could carry this one step further and I will … how to stop being irked. If you know the irker in your life and you can distance, distance. Do it. If it is a surprise irker, tolerate knowing that you will never have to deal with them again. Now, if the irker is a spouse or loved one or boss or co-worker…hmmm… that’s a bit tougher.  Work related irkers, I think not taking it personally is a good start.  Watch how other people handle them, if it works – emulate.  The best method which I try personally to do at work, is to ignore them.  Detach.  Loved ones/spouses – ugh, really no clue. Maybe make a joke of it? If they bite their nails offer them your nails to bite. If you can’t joke it off, have a chat.  Good luck with that.  

 * “Get their Goat” – The best origin of this that I could find was that goats were kept with other animals to keep the animals calm. I guess goats have a calming effect on other animals.  Instead of letting somebody get your goat, you go and get a goat.


Ramblings – Day Three


” Mawwiage. Mawwiage is what bwings us togethew today. Mawwiage, that bwessed awwangement, that dweam within a dweam. And wove, twue wove, wiww fowwow you fowevah and evah… So tweasuwe youw wove…” ~Princess Bride Movie, Wedding Scene

Books composed on this topic, articles written, studies taken, research conducted, seminars presented, advice given, blah blah blah. Marriage sucks.  I don’t like it.  Being single sucks.  I didn’t like that either.  Now that I’m married, I like being single more than being married.  I know if I were single again, I would like being married more than being single.  Typical female, right?

People go from marriage to marriage, person to person, affair – divorce – remarriage.   Marriage – affair – stay married – keep the affair.  Marriage – affair – divorce – living together.  I have an uncle who has been married seven times – seven! Why in the world would you do that seven times?! I’ve done it once and know better.  I have cousins that I don’t even know about.  That one is beyond my understanding – seven times?!

Hey, if I’m starting to tick you off – I’m not judging.  This is what I see and now I can understand the why of it all, to a degree.

My personal beef with marriage is that I did it, without really wanting to, without really being anywhere close to the Wesley and Buttercup love level, without taking a breath and really considering it all.  Now that it is done, it is done. I’m done.  I miss being me, independent me, do whatever whenever with whomever I wanted without having to consider the thoughts of another.

I feel gypped, duped, tricked and it’s my fault because I allowed it. I wanted the romantic butterflies and rainbows relationship at first.  One in which everything is just perfect – you know the drug induced state of hormones in which both people feel perfectly wonderful about, towards, and for each other.  You know… like in the movies.

What I got was reality and it sucked. Reality sucks. I got the fighting, arguing, questioning… the bats and downpours relationship at first. One in which you question, second guess, and doubt every move and every word. The fear induced state of being human in which both people know they are far from perfect and will be found out while trying to come to terms with accepting that somebody else actually wants to be with them forever for no reason…especially when they treat each other like crap.  That is what I got.

Now…fast forward down the road a few years. We worked out some of the crap, fight less, argue maturely, question respectfully.  No butterflies and the bats have downsized to moths.  No rainbows but the downpour has calmed to a grey mist.  I am coming to terms with the fact that I am a wife and my life is not at all what I had envisioned (dang reality). Life is now a boring predictable routine,  one in which it takes power beyond my ability to muster up in an attempt to break the monotony.  I’m working to accept predictability, monotony and to see it as a good thing.

Buttercup: “You mock my pain!”
Man in Black: “Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something.”





Ramblings – Day Two

Monday morning blues.

If you happen to love your job, can’t wait to get up and go there…I hate you. If you are like me and dread the monotony of the work force, heh pal! Nice to meet ya!

I read somewhere that the majority of suicides and hear attacks occur Sunday night. I know, don’t believe everything you read and I don’t. However, that tidbit made perfect sense to me – why? You may ask … the dread and stress of Monday morning. I’m not going to off myself, well not today at least and I’m not feeling any chest pains…but I’m not thrilled about my Monday morning work day.

I try to make it fun at work – joke around, laugh, etc. But lately … it requires too much effort to do that. Now, I just walk in and say my good mornings unenthusiastically, find my office, do the routine of setting up desk space, boot up the computer (I’d prefer to boot it out the window), go get a cup of coffee, small talk in the kitchen area, back to my desk, and begin the game of trying to get it all done and answer all emails. Blah blah blah. 

Oh and the political correctness … jeez! I’m losing all respect for mankind! Everything offends everybody. You need to “play the game” depending on the players of the week. Remember and act accordingly that “perceptions are everything”.  Oh, shoot me please! The job where I go to everyday has become a high school arena in which people are bucking to be included in with the popular group. How sad is that? Thirty somethings and forty somethings being ‘seen’ with the ‘right people’ at the ‘right times’. Ugh! I had to do some contemplation to recall that in high school, I wasn’t with the ‘in’ or the ‘out’ crowd and I certainly wasn’t Miss Popular but now, for some reason I bugs me. It really grates my nerves.  I think it really has to do with losing respect for mankind.

Well, I’m off to try and get a few more zzzz’s before the Monday morning monotony begins.

Ramblings – Day One


I’m a church goer, on occasion. I like the idea of going to church – wholesome, traditional, Little House on the Prairie feel to it “Going to Church”.  I’ve visited a church twice – almost three times but on the first visit I was obviously under-dressed. This was the church I found myself in this morning.  I grew up, kinda, going to church – Southern Baptist. I swore I’d never attend another Southern Baptist Church and this morning … quite to my own shock, there I was in a Southern Baptist Church.  Men in their vested suits, even the little boys trolling around with their ties, vests, coats. Women in their modest dresses and skirts, looking every so lovely and being every so kind. Surreal almost. I felt as if I had stepped back in time.

The preacher’s sermon was needed – how Jesus has my back, for me to take heart, remain cheerful.  It took about four hymns, five prayers, a roll call of the upcoming events, tithe, and a social greet and meet before he got to that point. Please! Just give me the point! Get to the point. I woke up, showered, coffee’d up, put on a skirt for crying out loud to sit through forty five minutes of singing, handshaking, small talk to get to the point of “Jesus has my back” (my version, not the preacher’s words). 

Don’t get me wrong, I needed to know and hear that Jesus has my back. I’m sure He does but it just doesn’t feel like it most days. Mr. Preacher man made a point of that as well – life is hard, it sucks, it downright stinks (my words again) but take heart, Jesus is with us.  I agree, I know but I don’t like it – I really don’t like it.  

Life does suck and it doesn’t always feel heavenly – mainly because of the hum drum of life … Jesus has my back as I do the laundry I detest because my forty something husband is fine with me doing it and wearing dirty clothes. Yep, Jesus has my back. My thoughts did trail off to my Monday morning, corporate america job that I thoroughly enjoy just to have the reward of money magically appearing in my bank account on Friday to pay bills for stuff I could care less about. 

Corporate job … does Jesus have my back there? I hope so, I definitely need it then more than laundry day. I need Jesus to have more than my back on Monday morning – He needs to have my mouth, my attitude, my eyeballs, all of me because if He doesn’t have my mouth – oh, how I’d love to go off on Mr. Moody Director who loves to show his attitude depending upon the audience.  If Jesus doesn’t have my attitude – oh, I’d go black crazy in the middle of the meeting telling everybody their place while jerking my neck and throwing things.  My eyeballs? Jesus needs to have those so I don’t roll them every time somebody says something and my inner me is screaming ‘seriously!?’.  Yep, Jesus needs to have more than my back.

Church vs the local bar.

I understand why some people use their local bar as their church.  I’m in with that crowd (not really, I don’t go to the local bar but now that I think about it…), only if it included God’s wisdom otherwise known as the bible. You are not judged in a bar – you are on the same field as everybody else. Everybody there knows you are hurting, life is hard, and they just are happy sitting sharing a drink with you while you vent, cry on their shoulder, or laugh about the simple madness of it all.  Oh, you will get hit on, you will get lied to, you will get the bill sometimes – but you know it, you expect it.  In church – you get hit on in a different way, you get lied to as well, and you get the bill subtly.

I wonder what Jesus thinks of our church? Would he come to the Southern Baptist Church I went to this morning? All dressed up? Vested suit? Shoes all spiffed and shined up? Or would He go to the local bar.

I think we both know the answer to that one.