Tag Archives: dad

Where my mind came from

Where my mind came from

I got my mind from my dad’s side of the family.  I know this because the only relatives who completely (and I mean without a doubt) understand me at my wildest edges of the English language are from that side of the family, specifically my paternal grandmother’s side, they also completely understand my contempt for 95% of people I meet (yes, most of you are socially annoying and you cover it up by getting even more in people’s private business, the thought that no one needs you is terrifying, the thought that no one needs us is liberating… we are a different breed and we love ourselves for it).  That’s not to say that I didn’t get any aspects from the other three pieces.  I definitely gain extraordinary abilities from he other sides. My magnetism for reading and overly advance practicality came from my maternal grandmother’s side.  My hardworking ethic and royal blood (over sense of self worth once reduced to peasant status) from my maternal grandfather’s side.  I just realized that I have never met a sole from my paternal grandfather’s side of the family (aside from my grandfather himself, who passed when I was 2)… I asked my dad and apparently they were all a happy family until he moved to California with his parents from Charleston, West Virginia to California in 1957.  So I really am not sure what traits my mind has gathered from that side of the family.  But judging from stories… my wandering eye definitely originated there…. but thanks to my maternal grandmother though, I’ve never felt the urge to cheat.

On Internal Dialogue

On Internal Dialogue

I spent all day working on my tile project in my dad’s bathroom. It looks great! I am so please with how well the flaws I found while working on it are disguised or barely noticeable. Now I am at a loss for what to do with myself. I might try reading again… something short though. I think my recent issue with reading is that I get tired of reading through so much stuff just to get to one small interesting bit of information (Can you relate right now? :). I need a way to pass time joyfully.

I was listening to my internal dialogue while I was putting in some tile and I realized that I’m not as nice to myself as I think I should be. I’ve always been pushy with myself to get stuff done like studying or whatever else I need to do to accomplish something I set out to accomplish, which is healthy in itself, but my method of ridiculing myself in the process needs to be changed to a positive-reinforcement method. I learned from my mom that if there is something about myself that I do not like or just aren’t happy with, then change it. So I found ways to change habits over time, one of those is bitching at myself. While doing a project, my old habits resonate in my mind. A very simple example is that it crossed my mind that I may not vacuum up the excess mess I made before I finish up for the day. I used to never finish projects though I have managed to finish my projects now, clean up is something that I have always gotten lazy about. I don’t always think the benefit of having a clean space is necessary, though often when I have cleaned up I find small problems that could have created a bigger problem if I had left it for later. Regardless it seems ridiculous for such an issue to be a problem to me.

The big issue is not my laziness, it is really that I can manage that aspect of myself in a healthier way. All I have to do to avoid mistakes from starring me in the face in the future…is to fix the problem in the present, which can be done through more self assuring methods. Now that leads me into mistakes, or at least those things I perceive to be mistakes because I am sure there are more but I don’t mind those mistakes because they were either minimal or inconsequential.

So in changing my habits, I bitch at myself to avoid mistakes. This coping mechanism has in the past worked (looking back: for a long time), but I can tell that it is causing me more distress than it is worth because I have suddenly been made aware of it. A key aspect of it is that once I make myself feel like shit, no one else can really tell me otherwise unless I am certain that their standards are higher or at least on par with my own. I respond well to criticism since it is an obvious tool to get myself to change my mind or actions so I don’t really resent internal criticism, I just deal with it because I believe I need it (keyword: believe). Seeing as I constantly criticize myself, it is no wonder that I can often be overly sensitive and not be able to handle even the slightest notion of external criticism. With all this effort I put into myself, external criticism pisses me off unless I can see how it is constructively legitimate, which it often is not, or at least, not worth telling me about.

Anyways, it is going to take a few tries but I need to be nicer to myself and I think everyone else will benefit.

The Routine Life

The Routine Life

Are you ready to be bored? And skip a few lines? Or even think to yourself as you close this note, “Why is she writing this?”

I wake up every day between 6:30 and 7:00am depending on if the sun covered by fog or not and especially if the blinds are turned up or down. It is easier to wake up to the sun than to my new ambient cell phone ring tone, but I still need another alarm clock that I stole off my dad’s night stand (he doesn’t need it and hasn’t come looking for it since I took it two months ago).

I get ready with the same enthusiasm everyday but depending on whether or not I apply a darker shade of eye shadow and if I took a shower the night before or that morning, I might look like a drowned rat or a pampered princess. So these little subtleties are mere variations in my routine that have a rather large impact upon how my personality is perceived through out the day.

The fact that I do not rise joyfully to meet my day also plays a part because my tiredness and longing to relax as I lazily sleep in causes me to sacrifice vital time that I might otherwise use to dry my hair straighter. On those mornings where the sun pulls me out of sleep gently as it rises I tend to have much more energy to tend to things that a dark room encourages me to shun.

My days are constricted by my job and despite the lack of circulation, this desk job allows me ample time to indulge in a hobby of drinking tea.

Leading the Way

Leading the Way

I have been told many times that I think too much but sometimes it actually pays off…. I had an Epiphany at about 7:30 this morning, it really has turned what I thought was a big issue that has cost me too many sleepless nights into a the funniest thing I’ve realized in years.

Where to start… Well… bear with me here…..how about with my train of thought as best it went…

So, in thinking about my grad school application and how later today I’m going to an information session for some extra guidance on how to polish off a few things, I realized it is nice to have a leader, someone to trust who I can willingly (not blindly) follow and help navigate. That definitely gives life an extra reason to wake me up in the morning. So then I thought about past leaders, mainly male in this thought stream because the main female leader roles in my life (The G-ma, Mum, Big Sis, best friends, etc) are pretty fulfilled and unwavering. My dad’s role will always be filled but boyfriends, bosses, and co-workers have a high chance of fluctuating. I thought of a time in Sydney when I realized my boss wasn’t so high up in the food chain as I originally thought, because once the big kahuna from Hong Kong was in town, Mr. Boss Man was running around like a chicken with his head cut off. I thought it was the funniest thing in the world. Here he was strutting his manager status one minute then loosing feathers the next.

I’m not accustomed to the men in my life being regulated by a real respect-demanding authority figure. My dad, for example, lost his dad when I was two and my ex when he was 16… so their way was the highest way for them and thus you must imagine my sudden surprise to see how men act when a surrogate ‘daddy’ comes to town. Guys think women act funny when their mothers show up, but boys, you do it to and uh, the change in behavior can have much more detrimental effects especially when a lady like myself looks to you as a sort of leader in her life (do not insert feminism here, I’m not in the mood for guys to use it as a excuse to be lazy).

Guys can strut their stuff, and talk their talk, but no matter what, if you can’t walk your walk in front of Daddy, don’t show it off to me because it really just means you’re not strong in yourself, and you can’t hide that. The stance and opinions once expressed were nothing more than mere words that I have heard, thought about, and chosen to agree to…then… What happened to the plan? Only way later do I realize I’ve been taken for a fool because the words only existed in that moment for the purpose of holding up a façade… but I’m laughing at myself for how silly it is not to realize this sooner. Oh god, so so funny…deep belly laugh while multiple memories flash before my eyes as my brain transfers them to a different emotional folder. It is good to know how to laugh at the yourself, it is a very liberating feeling.

Don’t worry, it is all a learning experience, trial and error, practice makes perfect, yadda, yadda, yadda….life goes on.