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friday, september 5, 2003
I like this answer...
5 sep 03 @ 4:51 pm
Self-conscious I am...
I
never stated that I had the best body image, but that comes with years of choosing to let myself be conditioned. I am working on my self-esteem so please no letters, articles or anything else needs to be sent to me about
my worth and all that other jazz. While in the process of working on my self-esteem
I have tried to venture out at the gym. No longer do I change for and after my
shower in the shower itself…but this WILL change.
I
have always felt uncomfortable to be in the presence of others while they are changing and this didn’t change with my four
years at a woman’s college. I always feel if I see a group of naked women walking/strutting
around I should be passing out dollars and asking for lap dances (excuse the male part of my thinking). But today's experience has sent me back to changing for and after my shower in the shower itself. Today must have been a prep day for every military branches Physical Training Exam. There were hordes of women in uniform at the gym today. Which made the changing areas crowded…there were five women in my changing area so you know I was mentally
sweating bullets while I was getting re-dress from my well-deserved shower. Here
we are six women some more naked then others trying to get ready to go back to work.
Here I am not talking to anyone of them and loving that. Here goes one
woman “Wow, this is the first time since you have been coming here that you have actually not changed in the shower!” – I
ignored her because she wasn’t at all talking to me…I don’t know her and she doesn’t know me.
I was wrong she was talking to me. And I wished she would’ve kept her
mouth shut, because as she continued to make more comments, no let me re-phrase that her monologue about my appearance her
associates chimed in…All I can say is having one woman tell another woman that they don’t know, that she has a great rack
without the offer of dinner and movie is uncalled for. I am going back to changing
for and after my shower in the shower itself.
It is a sign...
I think the Heavens
are trying to tell me that it is time for me to cash in my grad school savings and sell my current car and go and buy the
Harley Davidson F-150 truck. I have seen three of the same type this past week – The Heavens have spoken
and it is time for me to go and dropped the change for the truck. I don’t need
no stinking J.D. and M.B.A. I can advance within the defense industry without those things.
All I need is the truck!!!
thursday, september 4, 2003
Note to self...
When having
a slight mental breakdown and consoling oneself with Dickey's Chocolate Frozen Yogurt...Please be reminded that your new office
window a.k.a. glass door is still outside the men's restroom and a girl gorging on food can be seen and commented by all.
Do not be embarrassed that you can eat, just remember you are currently living in a fish bowl and licking the frozen yogurt
bowl isn't consider lady-like in mixed company. They don't know you so they don't know you ain't no lady!!!
My name…
My whole life I have gone
through the hassle of explaining to folks how my name is spelt even though I truly dislike my given name. By the time college came around I figured forget my given name and let’s just go with T.J. – All of my friends, co-workers, my brother, step-father, a few cousins and mother call me T.J. (the rest
of the folks call me by my given name or the nick name from my given name) – However, for legal reasons I must always state
my full name when doing vital written correspondence (regardless if the correspondence is personal or work related). To combat folks calling me by my given name I usually sign all of my correspondence
as such “T.J.” Ms. Te……
But, I
just noticed that 2 out of 5 folks when replying to my letters still continue to spell my name wrong even though I typed the
name out for them. How is that possible???
My name is Te…… not Ta……!!! Or if you were really smart just reply to
T.J. or Ms. B……
wednesday, september 3, 2003
New Digs...
I will
admit my new office digs are nicer and I do have more room, but I don't have any storage since my old storage went to my new
Legal Library. I opted to have my legal information on bookcases versus my files because my office can be slightly messy
until my storage options come. Unfortunately, my new office digs do make me look like the receptionist of this department.
I don't mind that because I am not into titles, but I do mind folks trying to open my locked window a.k.a. glass door like
they are walking into an office lobby. Any semi-idiot could tell this is not an office lobby or receptionist area by
the way the office is set-up, but once the blinds come to cover the glass door that will all cease. And as I mentioned
in a previous post my new office digs is right outside of the men's bathroom. The slamming of the door on an average
of every 3 minutes is quite annoying (the buildings management company is promising to fix that soon). But, if the door
is slamming every 3 minutes that means there are a lot of men on this floor...which has me sorta looking to see who is
coming and going. Which makes me admit that 2 of 6 men are quite pleasing to the eye...the fact that the blind isn't
here yet, might not be so bad.
tuesday, september 2, 2003
Moving Day…
Today is the day that I jump from the confines of the 15th floor where the glorious snack machine, soda
machine and celestial views of the D.C. Metro area are held to the drab of the 11th floor. I could take moving to the 11th floor if my new bigger, nicer, more open office wasn’t located
in front of the 11th floor men’s bathroom. The only thing separating
my space between the men’s bathroom is two heavy glass doors. My company is going
to place blinds on my glass doors so I don’t have to have eye contact with each and every man who has to go and umm relieve
himself, but I will still hear the slamming of the door every 5 minutes. I am not happy, I am not happy at all about this. I know this move is only for 8 months and I should be grateful for the larger space,
but I was happy on the 15th floor in my beige cage. I was so every
happy!!! If I go postal in 3 months, you can all rest assure it is because of
my new local.
monday, september 1, 2003
Gangsta ponderings...
I am a total loser…I am actually working on Labor Day!!!
But, I was prepared to console myself by rocking to whatever music I want without the fear of a higher up coming around
the corner, passing my office and hearing the words that shall not be utter by a good young lady. But, today I cannot rock they way I usually rock when folks aren’t here, because there is another office
mate in as well today, so I am forced to listen to the radio. And who is on the
radio but the one and only J. HO – I mean J. Lo. And the lovely Jennifer had
the nerve to say that she loved reggae music and “let’s take it back to the ole school and get real gangsta
wit it” – Bob Marley’s “Jammin’” -- Someone please help her. I
don’t understand this new and hopefully quickly becoming semi-old fascination with the word “gangsta” --If you like something
it is “gangsta” – If it’s new it’s “gangsta” – Come on folks everything isn’t gangsta unless it is GANGSTA!!! Ya know guns, racketeering, drug trafficking, and things that are CRIME related!!!
sunday, august 31, 2003
Amelie similarities…
I decided to watch one of my favorite movies “Amelie” with my parental unit this weekend. During most of the movie I was impressed
that she didn’t ask me a thousand and two questions. And as we approached my
favorite scene (Amelie receiving Mr. Dufayel message via VHS) she blurts out…”You remind me of Amelie or maybe Amelie reminds
me of you.” I was going to give her my smart-ass response of “How do I remind
you of a French, imaginative, skinny white woman? Or, is it the product of dysfunctional
that is the connection of us?” – But instead I was interested so I just listened to her without a response. I will try to relay what was said -- “You both live in a world that does not truly exist. You live in the imagination. You and her both would rather
be alone doing what have you, versus living in this world. You both think of
things that have no real bearing on the world at hand. However, Amelie finds
something that takes her outside the world that exists inside her mind. You should
find something like this as well.” Still I gave no response or actual emotion
that I was even listening (which mind you is rare since I am good, no great, no EXCELLENT at a face wrinkle of abhorrence!!!)
I watched the movie to completion and left without word unsaid. And later, I
thought heavily upon what my parental unit spoke and tried to resolve how I could come to stop having those fantastic imaginative
thoughts. And figured that I wouldn’t, it would be best to continue to make myself
laugh, ponder and/or whimper without outside prompting for as long as I could. Those
ponderings keep my mind on point, my tongue sharp and my wit keen. But, I did realize that I don’t yet know how to skip stones. So that is something I would like to learn how to do.
Are there any teachers amidst those who read my crap??? Please do inform!!!
Golf anyone???
Today Jim and I practiced the fine art of the golf swing. I am slower
than most folks when it comes to lining up my target, getting into my stance (grip, feet and head), preparing mentally and
physically for the swing and then finally swinging through the ball to hopefully see it go airborne. And my slowness may help me in the long run. At this stage
in the game I should be hitting at least 1 good ball with every 10 swings. I
am hitting 3-4 good balls with every 10 swings. These occurrences are making
golf lessons a lot more fun than I thought they would be. And I didn’t even complain
once, even though it was hot as Hades out on the course...I was so happy to be sweating it up and learning something new. Golf could be my game if I can successfully make it through “The Tao of Jim.” I will also admit that I even had a blast when I was hitting nothing but air,
when trying to swing through the ball. And
in three short weeks I will be able to hit some balls at the driving range.
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