the past few days have been a bit of a whirlwind. albeit not by choice, i wound up taking a 3 day hiatus from chicago to travel across the country for a brief business trip to seattle for a little chummy time with our west coast office folk. it's had its ups (fresh fish & coffee) and downs (miss my 3's company like fam back in the basement), but one thing's for sure and that's that i'm tuckered out. (who knew? jet lag can really catch up with you when you're working all day and night).
i get to know these people i work with on a more person to person basis, and as i learn more about them, i uncover these secret normal people tendencies that i would never expect to find out. but then i pause and think, well my dear, what did you expect? not everyone you don't know is a robot. take myself, for example. i get engaged 2 months ago and then i fall off the blogging planet. i don't write music reviews anymore. i don't write rambles anymore. i don't go out boozin' it up like the social butterfly (deranged, wings torn and ready to crawl back into her cocoon) i was. i don't make unwise decisions (for the most part). and i have this stinking suspicion that i'm growing up. oh, shit.
it makes me yearn for my old individuality. not in the sense of independence or anything. but i want those old traits that always made me stand apart and cause people to raise their brows in confusion. a glimmer of that cascaded after a business dinner this evening. after sitting all day in a pristine office on the 42nd floor of the seattle columbia tower (bestfuckingviewever,btw) following a day of sitting for a 5 hour flight followed by 6 hours sitting in another pristine, (but mere 18 floor) office building - my ass was goddang restless. i mean, literally. having to shove it in tight, black legging tights and parade around in a business suit and skirt didn't help the cause, either. sitting in the midst of an overpriced french cuisine dinner (i literally had no idea what i even ordered, it was some sort of sausage but resembled a $25 morning microwavable sausage link one-two atop some shitty ass garbanzo beans - eventually traded in for another doctor's salmon dish after he peaced out early, thankyouverymuch), i realized i could not stop twitching. like, literally. my legs and ass were asleep and itchy. sweat stuckto my thighs and it was the most uncomfortable dry dance ive never requested. concerned some doc may catch a peek at my cat skull and cross bones foot tattoo, i tried to wait out the twitch routine, but eventually gave in to the nerves and excused myself to the restroom.
fast forward 3 hours and several physician medical jargony conversations later, i was long relieved those tights were crumpled in my fake leather thrifstore maroon sorry excuse of a purse. i was free! no itchy ass cheeks or chaffing thighs! on my way out, one doctor wrinkled her nose - 'are those reaaaal tattoos? wait, what is that - i can see a moon and stars, but on your other foot?' as she peered down at my grotesque feet, i stuttered and tried to convince her they were temporary tattoos. when that tactic failed, i rambled that i had an image to portray and that tattoos weren't perceived as professional or 'clean and polished'. this just confused her more. 'clean and polished?' yes. clean and polished. just like me and the stanky ass tights crumpled in my purse.
this makes me kinda sad that my only alter ego superhero personality or double secret life lies within my tattoos. especially days after i made the decision to remove my nosering indefinitely. you know, to like, be a grown up and stuff. so what is my alter ego? where is my channel of unique identity? sure, i've got the radio thing - which is awesome and i love it and blah blah blah, but that's a hobby. what about me? where do i differentiate between the norms and my peers? why is it that everyone has this preconceived notion that they must be special and stand apart - this entitled feeling of invincibility. or whathaveyou.
really, i just want to be appreciated. or loved. or something. by my family. sure, my friends too. but really, i just want my mom and older brother, sister and their children, to look at me as a role model. or a positive influence. an example that you can pave your own way. and still not be a complete geekazoid.
it's scary, really. to know that i'm typing this longwinded ramble (that's going nowhere, btw) on a work issued laptop. nursing a bellyache from a work induced food coma. wishing i was home in bed with my non work partners in crime. cuddling. feeling warm and not worrying for once.
you guys, i'm actually getting married. and i'm actually doing ok at my job. and my friends honestly don't seem to hate me for being too busy to knock back brews with them anymore. is this luck? is this fate? is this just the turn of the tides? i don't know. i do know, however, that the last secret identity, superhero, alias, whatever you wanna call it, would be that of a semi-successful married business woman. i mean, for real?
i guess so. with that, i reckon i will call it a night and turn in.
hope to see you all a week from this coming saturday. it may be one of the last occassions you see me as an unwedded single woman in a large group setting. . . .
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