(no subject)
Nov. 21st, 2014 06:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vicarzI'm happy right now, feeling like the world is full of possibilities even though okcupid is clearly explaining I'm not attractive, and the only things that are dragging me down are my very sad friends. I have some very sad, very close, friends, and I can't make any of them happy. I guess knowing this I'm only so sad.
I'm not sure how rational my contentment is or how long it will last. But fuckyeah this core of stability, of happy but not so much exuberance to fear it being temporary. I mean sure, it's happier than I'll probably stay, but it's a slow curve of happy.
Here's a lament: I hate commercials. I hate that they have created an artificial world that the US has accepted. It's like an entire advertising culture has taken off into lalaland and the world sort of doesn't notice they're bizarre. "Two cunts in a kitchen," cars being fun and garnering respect, the joy of cleaning a house, jewelry creating love, children loving their parents because of the shape of a hotel room, white people with perfect english and smiles serve suit-wearers fast food...I'd like to go back in time to the periods where an ad described the product, how it would improve your life, and why it's better than the alternatives...and I'll be honest, I wish big government would regulate truth in advertising. See I'm sort of stretching to be annoyed by things (this is always how I think fwiw).
Work is busy, made me show up in person all week to my dismay, but I'm appreciated and what I'm doing is going well and manageable. I have one curious thing developing - there are 2 new attorneys, both female, one black with a flower name, one white with a dog name (her description, I disagree).
Flower woman I like and feel like I have good rapport with. She worked for a reputable if despised firm, is very knowledgeable and seems to have hit the ground running. She talks about her personal life freely and is very down to earth. I feel comfortable talking to her, and have to remind myself I don't know her well before I overshare and act too much like myself - even for me. I suspect "well be good."
Dog woman may be competent but her self-described work experience isn't as clearly helpful, though in conversation she is showing good case knowledge. She talks about her personal life, and I've found we might have some common roots - she used to fucking go to tracks! Tracks! She's very talky, but this is where I sort of fade from her...she's awkward like a cat lady to me. She interrupts a lot, and talks too long about side topics? For instance, I was trying to explain our Union history on a family of cases quickly because we didn't have much time (and I freely admit I wander conversationally) and she interrupted to go into a long story about a bad former boss, and while the story did sound objectively wrong, she actually spent quite a while explaining her argument at a conference held years ago...it's a common socially awkward mistake, but it kind of had the ring of caring too much about something not important too long ago. You could explain the situation without rehashing the argument. There is something just not clicking, though I hope it's nothing that matters.
I'm just thrilled that my racism is rearing it's ugly head again. I like the black woman, white woman creeps me out man.
My new chair makes me way to happy; it's like a toilet. Uh oh.
Edit: I can't believe my typos. Really, waht is going on? I'm not fixing that one either. I'm clearly dying.
Maybe my friends can only be happy when I'm not. I should return to wallowing and feeling unattractive so the rest of the world can rise out of its torment...to be cursed with that level of importance...
I have things I have to keep secret again. At least I know, it's not ambiguous. I yelled at my dear friend I am addicted to her; I miss having subjects for my confidant. Other people's secrets. On the other hand, I'm also less addicted overall to needing to share, to not feeling like it's real until I've told a close friend. Or eljay.
For once I wish I could push my feelings on the people I love. I would share my coffee, fill them with warmth, drag them in front of mirrors and show the person I love as if the reflection could show that, fill their veins with energy and understanding...and make them poo out the bad. My love will make you feel good and poo like coffee. I...I think I better stop writing now.
I'm not sure how rational my contentment is or how long it will last. But fuckyeah this core of stability, of happy but not so much exuberance to fear it being temporary. I mean sure, it's happier than I'll probably stay, but it's a slow curve of happy.
Here's a lament: I hate commercials. I hate that they have created an artificial world that the US has accepted. It's like an entire advertising culture has taken off into lalaland and the world sort of doesn't notice they're bizarre. "Two cunts in a kitchen," cars being fun and garnering respect, the joy of cleaning a house, jewelry creating love, children loving their parents because of the shape of a hotel room, white people with perfect english and smiles serve suit-wearers fast food...I'd like to go back in time to the periods where an ad described the product, how it would improve your life, and why it's better than the alternatives...and I'll be honest, I wish big government would regulate truth in advertising. See I'm sort of stretching to be annoyed by things (this is always how I think fwiw).
Work is busy, made me show up in person all week to my dismay, but I'm appreciated and what I'm doing is going well and manageable. I have one curious thing developing - there are 2 new attorneys, both female, one black with a flower name, one white with a dog name (her description, I disagree).
Flower woman I like and feel like I have good rapport with. She worked for a reputable if despised firm, is very knowledgeable and seems to have hit the ground running. She talks about her personal life freely and is very down to earth. I feel comfortable talking to her, and have to remind myself I don't know her well before I overshare and act too much like myself - even for me. I suspect "well be good."
Dog woman may be competent but her self-described work experience isn't as clearly helpful, though in conversation she is showing good case knowledge. She talks about her personal life, and I've found we might have some common roots - she used to fucking go to tracks! Tracks! She's very talky, but this is where I sort of fade from her...she's awkward like a cat lady to me. She interrupts a lot, and talks too long about side topics? For instance, I was trying to explain our Union history on a family of cases quickly because we didn't have much time (and I freely admit I wander conversationally) and she interrupted to go into a long story about a bad former boss, and while the story did sound objectively wrong, she actually spent quite a while explaining her argument at a conference held years ago...it's a common socially awkward mistake, but it kind of had the ring of caring too much about something not important too long ago. You could explain the situation without rehashing the argument. There is something just not clicking, though I hope it's nothing that matters.
I'm just thrilled that my racism is rearing it's ugly head again. I like the black woman, white woman creeps me out man.
My new chair makes me way to happy; it's like a toilet. Uh oh.
Edit: I can't believe my typos. Really, waht is going on? I'm not fixing that one either. I'm clearly dying.
Maybe my friends can only be happy when I'm not. I should return to wallowing and feeling unattractive so the rest of the world can rise out of its torment...to be cursed with that level of importance...
I have things I have to keep secret again. At least I know, it's not ambiguous. I yelled at my dear friend I am addicted to her; I miss having subjects for my confidant. Other people's secrets. On the other hand, I'm also less addicted overall to needing to share, to not feeling like it's real until I've told a close friend. Or eljay.
For once I wish I could push my feelings on the people I love. I would share my coffee, fill them with warmth, drag them in front of mirrors and show the person I love as if the reflection could show that, fill their veins with energy and understanding...and make them poo out the bad. My love will make you feel good and poo like coffee. I...I think I better stop writing now.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2014-11-22 06:50 am (UTC)Commercials: is why the MUTE button exists. I usually go wander off and do something else like cook or read.
no subject
Date: 2014-11-22 11:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-11-24 07:54 pm (UTC)Now THAT'S a product I could get behind!
no subject
Date: 2014-11-24 08:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-11-24 08:12 pm (UTC)