Writing the letter

I wrote it. To me it’s over 2 weeks over due, but to everyone else it’s probably too soon. Or to him, far too soon. If I were to fall off the face of the earth, he’d probably be a happy man. Except, apparently he doesn’t know me well. We only lived together and dated and stuff… I said I wasn’t going to avoid things. It might be best to lay low for a while and not cause any more scenes, I’ll admit that.

Wednesday could have gone better. Drunk Pam was having a good time. Drunk Pam missed him and Drunk Pam has absolutely no impulse control. This has been evidenced on my occasions, i.e. every time I get drunk. If hugging everyone, the attempted groping, and attempted making out while previously drunk is any indication, I’ll probably still feel the same way.

Drunk Pam decided that hugging friends wasn’t enough. Drunk Pam went for the hug. She was forcefully denied. Sober Pam doesn’t take this well, let alone Drunk Pam. If anyone ever had doubts of my feelings, they shouldn’t anymore. Most girls I’ve met don’t crumple to the sidewalk, refuse to get up, not that I could have moved on my own accord, and get helped out by the bartender.

Not embarrassing for either one of us or any of our friends. Drunk Pam is on a break, with an exception on Tuesday, for a previously arranged karaoke night.

I tend to be the type of person who takes charge and fixes everything. I mediate and solve things. I don’t always have tact, but rarely am I afraid of expressing my opinion. I’ve worked in so many groups and with hundreds of people by this time. I know why certain people and I work well together. So this not speaking, solving or doing anything is killing me. It’s been killing me for about the week before the official break up. I talk things out.

Allen is not this type of person. He’s mellow and apparently doesn’t share his opinions and gripes. He gives up after one big fight instead of working with me. He pushes me away and pretends I don’t exist. Which just makes me want to be an attention whore, but I’ve never done well being ignored.

He and I need to find a way to be civil and exist in social situations. We have too many mutual friends to not have that. And he really needs to know that Drunk Pam is really friendly.


May you live in interesting times

These times are defining. It almost seems like a cliché for me at this rate. It’s these times, though that define the type of person you are, or want to be.

To say that the past 2 years have been challenging would be an understatement. Challenging doesn’t even begin to cover. As it turns out, living with an abusive guy, leaving said guy, moving in with my mom and her abusive alcoholic husband, getting kicked out by the alcoholic, crashing at a guy I had just met’s apartment after staying in my car, dating this guy, having this guy shatter my heart takes it out of you. Add to the fact the longest I’ve held a job at this rate is 5 months, my life is anything but stable. In two years, I’ve lived at 6 different places. I had the delightful time learning that even while not packed or ready in any sense, I can move in about an hour, even at midnight. And between a Focus and a Prius, my all my things fit, except my dresser. I still feel like I should toss things, but I think that’s my pessimist side.

This whole breakup debacle is showing me who my friends are, more than anything. I may have lost the guy, but I have friends to help me up. Well, I didn’t really lose him. I’m not sure what is with me and suddenly crazy men. I really don’t understand that one. Not one, but two. Two guys have acted this way to me. The first had warning signs I ignored. Really should have seen that one coming. The  second time took me by surprise. There was a distinct lack of red flags.

The person I owe the absolute most to is the girl who refused to let me be homeless, has put up with all my shit and whining, and keeps telling me the things I need to hear, not what I want to hear. There are honorable mentions to the friend who took me back to her apartment to sober me up after I was bawling on the sidewalk and refusing to get up. (I couldn’t have walked it, nor could she have supported a 5’8″ drunk girl.) And finally, Michelle the bartender, who helped me walk to my car (other friend drove, I bawled in the passenger seat, all curled up).

“I have come to the frightening conclusion that I am the decisive
element. It is my personal approach that creates the climate. It is my
daily mood that makes the weather. I possess tremendous power to make
life miserable or joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument
of inspiration; I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal. In all
situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis is
escalated or de-escalated, and a person humanized or de-humanized. If
we treat people as they are, we make them worse. If we treat people as
they ought to be, we help them become what they are capable of

~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749 – 1832)


Yesterday, I told the world I was accepted into school.

Today, I found out that my boyfriend is truly happy for me. He really thinks I can succeed, which means so much. He’s been there, done it and has the degree to prove it. It also sounds like he’s told a bunch of people.

I also told my manager, who was over the top enthusiastic. He insists I need to do it. Which also means quite a bit because I won’t be the most available employee.

Provided I can secure enough funding, I’m not seeing any reason why not. Getting in was the easy part. Funding, not so much. I need some awesome, rich, sympathetic people to give me scholarships. So, if you know any, let them know about me. I’ll be glad to return some favor. Maybe some coffee…


On somewhat of a whim, I applied to go back to school. And I’m in.

Yes, it’s exciting. However, I’m nervous and not sure I can hack it. I can’t even afford it. It’s a tiny, private school which tends to churn out excellent grads in fields which don’t have a great number of students. I’d be a student with little prior knowledge, but I know if I do chose to attend, I will have to work my ass off. And not just at school, which is regarded as extremely challenging and damn near impossible to alos work a part time job. I’ll still have to work. At least I have a pretty good job for that. I’m a barista at one of the corporations, which allows me flexible hours and free coffee, both of which I’d require.

Currently, I’m unsure. I’m going to have to take a good hard look at my options. I’m going to have to have a number of conversations with the people I trust and know what the curriculum entails. One of the biggest challenges will actually to tell my mother, who absolutely won’t support me. I know this from previous conversations about going to school. I went once and that should have been enough.

The odds aren’t in my favor. I already hold a BA, and it’s a small school no one has ever heard of outside of the industry. I almost never see my boyfriend now and we share a room. I’d really never see him. I really have no idea what to do at this point. I was actually kind of hoping to be rejected. It makes the decision that much easier. It’s not like I told anyone to begin with. It would be a secret of my own.

I don’t remember it sucking this much the first time. Granted it was “this school or that one?” It came down to in state tuition. It was the only major difference. This time, though, it’s picking a life and career path. I guess it’s not forever, but just until my loans are paid off. I do have to consider who else this effects, which is namely my boyfriend. He does get a say in the matter, not the final word, but a definite say. Something tells me he’s going to be excited. Then again it’s his alma mater and he didn’t get in the first time. However, I do have the female thing working for me, especially in the programming track.


Breaking the Cardinal Rules

I’m ready to break the cardinal rules in blogging and actually writing something decent. Frankly, right now I’m pissed off and all I reallly want is a stiff drink. I don’t really care it’s early afternoon.

My mother drives me to drink. Having a conversation with her makes me drink. I need one.

I wish I could get along great with my mother and we actually had some semblance of a relationship. I admit, I do have a hand in this but a good portion of the issues are things she needs to deal with. I know how that sounds; I sound like a whiny teenager. However, it’s not just me. My friends, boyfriend and most of all, my therapist agree. In reality, my worse actions in this relationship are growing up and expanding my horizons. I figure if that’s the worst I can give her, she needs to deal with it.

Eventually the kids need to leave and go out on their own. They can’t just chill at home forever. I know I haven’t always made the most mature decisions, but I’m 23; I’m still learning.

I’m aware that I shouldn’t go off for a weekend and not tell anyone. I knew before I went, but I was curious if they would even noticed or care. At the same time, all children will push their limits and inconsistent or lack of enforcement will cause acting out. It doesn’t matter if the kid is 3 or 23. Without some sort of reinforcement, children will become brats. The key part of this is that the kid doesn’t get away with it the first time. That’s the time to be the most strict because if they do it again, they know what’s coming. We employed the same principle in facilitation and working on a ropes course. At the beginning of the day or program, we were super strict, but at the end of the day, we may let things slide. You just can’t give an inch in the beginning and not expect them to take a mile.

Hi, I’m a Humanist

Religion has been quite the topic for my group of friends lately. One of my friends is strongly an atheist, which can be interesting in debates since he’s also very rational. He and I both grew up in churchgoing households and have since wondered what the hell our parents are thinking.

I remember being a kid and getting ready for church and dressed in what I wanted to wear. According to my mother, my outfit choice was sub-standard. I believe jeans were a part of my ensemble. I was told to change; I didn’t take that well. My mother informed me that I needed to dress better for church. I wanted to know who cared. Apparently, everyone cares. I was curious when church became a fashion event on par with the Oscars. Since I was a kid, I complied and we went on our way. This event still sticks out to me. I’m still confused as to why anyone would give a care how I was dressed. As far as I can tell, the Bible has no dress code and why am I trying to impress anyone with my fashion? I wasn’t going to impress anyone, just worship, give praise to God and all that. I’m pretty sure the Bible cares more about being a good person than my clothes. This was the first time I ever questioned religion and all that jazz. I didn’t want to just go along with it because it was the path of least resistance.

Now that I’m writing this I’m realizing that I rarely go the path of least resistance. Or it could just be called the easiest path. Come to think of it, I was the kid who didn’t care what the other kids were up to in middle and high school. If I liked you, cool. If I didn’t, I never gave a crap if you liked me or even what you thought of me- I don’t like you. Lots of people have a hard time with this. There’s only a few people I’ve ever worked to get their affection, but even that hasn’t panned out well for me. These days, I mostly care if I like me.

For me, I want to be a good person. I like doing the right thing, because it’s the right thing. Sometimes it isn’t the best. There have been times where I question what is for the best. I don’t know what to do. Do I take the direct, be perceived as a huge evil bitch approach which is what they need to hear, or I do let them enjoy the delusion of happiness, even fleeting? I’m still weighing those options, but I’m going to act with the best of intentions and with using a rational approach.

I’ll write more about my current issues coming up. And the two main situations I’m mentally wrestling with. And I think more on religion, how I got to where I am now.

And we’re back

And by we, I really mean just me. Possibly some imaginary freinds too.

I’m really hungry and I ate all the food. I’d go get something, but I”m down to about $4. I wouldn’t be in such dire straights if I would have gotten paid like I should have. Damn snow.

It got me stuck in parking lots and helped burn out my clutch, I”m sure. Granted, that’s had some help by someone else. It was a good cause and I’m a sucker for a good cause. I taught a friend to drive stick shift. He had the basics down, i.e. driving laws, put clutch into change gears, don’t kill anyone. It’s about the third time I’ve ever let anyone drive my vehicle, ever. I’m a little anal-retentive. Somehow, I just went with it. There were even moments my anal-retentive self should have freaked out. Like when he, squealed the tires, albeit by accident. Granted, everything he had done, I did too and in that car. Even then, he didn’t do any worse than either my boyfriend, and fellow stick driver, or I had done. It was a pretty enjoyable afternoon. I also found it a bit funny because last weekend, my boyfriend and my friend’d girlfriend were at the same event. It was weekend switch. Except there was a lack of swinging, I promise. I’m quite certain I would know if the swinging was going on. Long story with girl talk. Details aren’t important.

Not Particularly Fun Things

I wish I could be elaborate and eloquent, but at this moment, I just want to be direct. You know what’s really fun to find out? That your position is going away. I still have a job, but I have to change my availability and what I’m doing. I was planning to transfer anyways. But it’s that our little awesome team is breaking up. It’s why I haven’t transferred yet.

But even more fun that learning that this week? Finding out that the equivalent thing happened to your boyfriend, with whom you live and sadly depend on.

I know that I will still have a job and none of my team is being fired. The BF on the other hand? We’ll see. He has almost a year with his company and lots of job experience to talk about. To me it’s just scary. The crap has been scared out of me. More than ever, I see the importance of having a job which supports yourself. However, I’m stuck. I have years of experience on a ropes course and in fast food. Fast food doesn’t want to hire me because I have a college degree, but places that want a degree, also want experience and more shit than I can muster. Or they’re in things like sales, which is cool for some people, who aren’t me. Me? I’m introverted and have morals which tend to get in the way of being a successful sales person. I don’t want to ever sell you something you don’t need or force you into it. I can’t be pushy. I got in trouble at McDonald’s for not upselling. I didn’t think anyone needed the large meal. I don’t know how this happened as I’m the daughter of two salespeople, essentially. My real dad is supported by his wife and my mom’s a banker, but she’s really a salesperson. I lack the specific and/or technical degree. So really, I’m just in a fabulous life position right now.

My Philosophy

philosophy:  the most basic beliefs, concepts, and attitudes of an individual or group


Everyone has a philosophy. Whether or not they know it is another question. I like to think I have a pretty good handle on mine. I’ve had to think about what kind of person I am and want to be. I have also had the opportunity to demonstrate these qualities. In addition, I’ve had my beliefs and attitudes questioned and put to the test.

You really get to know who you are when you’re in a difficult situation. Well, you might figure it out afterwards. But that’s when it’s put to question and you make the choice on who you want to be. Just because you put whatever situation or belief to question doesn’t mean anybody is watching what you do.

I was a Facilitator who worked with groups to help them work better together. I’ve had activities where the focus is getting to know one another, communication or working together in different roles in a cohesive manner. The one that sticks with me though, is the focus on accountability.

I like to use the electric fence or spider’s web for this. Basically, there are some thin ropes, strings, or elastics stretched across a frame. Teams must get every person from one side to the other. I like to break out some story telling when I lead this. Partially to mislead my group. (Facilitators are kind of sadistic, get over it.) I said if they touch any part of the element, that everyone had to start over, or just the people who touched, depending on how I felt that day. If the group caught the touch themselves, I let it pass and didn’t count that one. However, we’re not that honest. A group could have very few or 20+ touches.

When it came time to debrief the activity, there was always a somber moment where the group realized that you don’t always get away with everything. Once they were aware of the consequences, I challenged them to keep themselves accountable in all areas of their life. Who do you want to be? What will you do when it’s harder to do the right thing than the wrong thing?

As it turned out, I wasn’t just speaking to my group, but to myself as well. I said, to myself,  that I wouldn’t stand for cheaters in my classes. I also refused to stay with anyone abusive in my life. I’ve now added “selling my soul.”

While my absolutes have been challenged, I have done my very best to hold them up, even through a hell of a lot of adversity. In one of my classes shortly after facilitating that accountability activity, one of the people in front of me was cheating. A first offense will have you kicked out of class, and a second out of the university. He received an automatic F by cheating on a 20 point quiz. There was like 600 or 800 points total in that class. I feel bad, but cheating cheapens my grade and what I earned. I’m damn proud of my grade in that class.

About a year ago, the person I was living with crossed the line. My parents, not understanding the gravity of the situation, wanted me to stay. Then again, they don’t have a right to be the authority on the situation, since my mom has stayed year after year and will never leave. I suppose it’s easier to not fight back and just take what comes. But to answer the question in the Foo Fighter’s “Best of You” I was born to resist.

And when I got the job that would put me in to what was essentially isolation, I didn’t do it. Yeah, I’m lame and quit. Sure, I gave up, but I knew all the consequences, whereas, no one else does.

I can’t psychologically handle isolation, actual or perceived. I spent two months alone, with nothing but the internet and fear of everything around me. I’m still not over it, but it’s not easy to just adjust to normal social interaction, even after almost a year. I’m far better than I used to be. I know if put into the situation how it will end. I’m surprised it didn’t before, but I believed once I was out, life would be better. It wasn’t. I have absolutely no doubt that I would kill myself. It sounds dramatic now, but I can’t live in isolation again. And I can’t live in fear.

While it all really sucked, succinct, I know, I have fought back. I fought myself right into homelessness. I haven’t completely gotten myself out of that. I only have a roof over my head, a mattress, and a daily shower because someone has taken pity upon me. Of that, I am not proud, but merely grateful. It doesn’t seem like enough. It probably never will.

It’s damn fun living with my boyfriend. And so not traditional to start dating and live together from the start. It wouldn’t be my choice, but I don’t have a ton of options. There is no one else I’d rather live with. Frankly, I generally want to kill anyone I’ve spent 4 or more days with.

I absolutely love my mother

In a sarcastic sort of way. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother, but she drives me insane. Literally. I’ve had  a lot of counseling.

Why, oh why has my mother driven me to counseling? I can’t even begin to tell you all these ways. But, stubborn as I am, I’m going to give it a shot.

First off, if you ask her, she has never done a thing wrong in her life. Ever. I’m not kidding. According to her, she is the model of perfection. However, if you ask my brother or me, there’s quite a bit she could learn about life.

My mother has this habit of asking questions and then walking away. It’s not some of the time, but all of the time. Every time she wants to know something, you must follow her, and if you do not, you are in trouble. And no, you may not yell the answer either. Follow, you must.

She also has this thing about only calling people when she’s driving. And usually only when going through a place with mediocre to bad reception. Or right before driving past a place she “always loses it there.” Thanks, Mom.

I’m not completely enthusiastic to meet the new baby! Frankly, babies eat, shit, and sleep, which doesn’t get me all excited. Nor does my only plan in life involve being a mother. There might be something seriously wrong with me according to some, but the mere possession of a uterus does not a mother make.

Seriously, look at mine. There could be vast improvements there. Thankfully, I have found someone who feels the same about kids. They aren’t necessary, use preventative measures, and we don’t want to be our parents. Our dads left us to be raised by our stepdads. My dad balked on being there and financially providing. His dad at least paid the child support and stayed completely away. Our mothers were both young. We don’t want to be our parents. We’re already off to a better start in all reality. We’re older than they are and both hold Bachelor’s degrees. Alas, I digress.

My mom let this bomb through the last time we talked. There is talk of not doing Thanksgiving. My very large, abnormally close family to not do Thanksgiving?! That’s a shocker. We gather all the time. It’s weird, but everyone likes everyone and honestly, I’m the black sheep. (I think for myself, and am not religious, but not openly.) I’m irrational to be upset about this, but has she not forgotten last year? I didn’t get Thanksgiving last year. I didn’t have Christmas either. The Christmas decorations are actually welcomed this year, even if they’ve been displayed for a month already. I might even enjoy Christmas music this year. So I’m all irrational about insisting on Thanksgiving. My mom did say that we could do our own dinner, where I will cook the whole thing except the turkey. Because like all my birthdays, I can do it best, so I’ll be putting in the work. However, just because I can do it best, doesn’t mean on my special day I should. Sometimes it tastes better when it was made special for me. If we do have Thanksgiving at my mom’s, it’ll feel like a massive pity party for me. Someone better be blowing up some pity balloons.