confession #294

I miss you.

... Never Done...

I never finish anything I start or put my mind to. I have a closet full of half-finished projects, a list of projects to start probably never, and a notebook full of plans and ideas for a novel or poems that I'll never actually develop.

Promises I make to myself last a short time if at all. I'm passionate, but only for a little while. It always peters out. Always.

I'm a jack of all trades, but an expert at nothing, unless you count abandoning and giving up.

[Write more about why you feel this way here.] 

Day 290: Stop. Focus. Click... On Life's Little Pleasures

One word: Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh. (Yes, those are rose petals! Never tried that before, but my skin came out soft and nice-smelling!)

Day 288: If I Ruled Lichtenstein... It Would Be 5 O'Clock Everywhere

"No, mom, you can call me then because it'll only be 10 o'clock here... Yes, I know you always forget..."

I hate daylight savings time almost as much as I hate different time zones. Sure, now that we've set the clocks ahead, we're not going to work in the dark and coming home after it gets dark again, but it never fails that just when my internal clock gets used to getting up at 6:50 a.m. every morning, the time changes so it's like I'm forcing my body to get up at 5:50 a.m. because of course I can't fall asleep earlier than my usual bedtime.

But the central time zone brings with it many more headaches, mostly because everyone I talk to over the phone is in a different time zone. All my friends and family not to mention everyone I deal with at my second job are in the eastern time zone, and I work at a company that has international customers, so I'm constantly having to calculate out the different time zones so I can figure out when to call people based on when to best get ahold of them. 

In Lichtenstein, the country is small enough that everyone would be in the same time zone. And as of right now, I'd move the clocks back a half an hour and leave it there for good. When it's 5 o'clock in Lichtenstein, it's 5 o'clock everywhere. See you for happy hour food specials.

Day 283: Stop. Focus. Click... On Ridiculousness, Part III

It's time for a third season of "Ridiculous," which is my place to vent about the ridiculousness of this world. (Read about the first Ridiculous and the second Ridiculous.)

This "bike" - one without a seat, tires, chain, or handlebars - was chained to a fence with a bike chain. Normally, a bike chain is used to secure a bike so it's not stolen. My question is, "Who would want to go through the trouble of stealing this?"

There are limited seats on the train going from downtown Chicago to the suburbs, and nothing infuriates me more than these horribly rude people who take up two seats so they can sleep more comfortably. While I have no issues asking them to move if it's the only seat available, and I want to sit down for the 45-minute ride, I see others stand so as not to disturb them.

One of my biggest pet peeves is people taking up more room than is needed, and just being an ass about it. Yes, I'm talking about you, Porsche owner who takes up the two spots nearest the store so no one parks too close to you. The same thing goes for you, red truck owner. You own a truck, and it's a large vehicle. But it's not so large as to take up FOUR (yes, four) parking spaces. Or even two.

Day 281: If I Ruled Lichtenstein... Eat When You're Hungry and Sleep When You're Tired

When I was in collage, I had a friend who said he wished he could do just three things whenever he wanted: "eat, sleep, and screw."

While they are all arguably basic needs - without reproduction, the human race would die out - I have to say that if I had to pick two I would go with the two that have to do with the very basic human needs: eat and sleep.


I am most grumpy when I'm tired, and fairly unpleasant to be around when I'm hungry. It's because I'm uncomfortable when I'm either.


Therefore, if I ruled Lichtenstein, I would ensure these two needs are satisfied as best as I can. If workers need a siesta in the middle of the day, they'd be allowed to sleep if they wanted to make up the hours later in the day. If they were hungry, they could help themselves to the healthy snacks that employers would be required to provide their employees at all times. And meetings during the lunch hour will strictly be banned, with the exception being only a meeting where the employer agrees to buy lunch.


Productivity would be up, and workers would be happier. And all it would take is allowing them to get enough shut-eye along with snacks.

Day 279: Never Have I Ever... Learned The Proper Technique To Break Someone's Arm Two Different Ways

"Is it weird that I've had the song 'Kung Fu Fighting' in my head all day?" I asked my colleague when we were on our way to Song's Kung Fu Academy so I could try out martial arts for the first time.

"No, that's the ringtone I have set for the people in class," my friend laughed.

Even though I felt like I had the basics regarding what to expect -- bow after I walk in the front door, immediately take off my shoes, stand in the back by the door, call everyone wearing a black belt, 'sir' -- nothing my friend could have told me would have prepared me for the 90-minutes of floundering I did in that class.

My friend did tell me that he wasn't able to let me know ahead of time what to expect because every day in this class is different. What he failed to tell me was that this is an advanced martial arts class. Half of the class, including my friend, were wearing black belts.

This explains why we were taking turns doing roundhouse kicks - you know, where you do a 360 spin in the air and kick at a target at the end - within the first five minutes.

You're kidding me, I thought, as I was watching the rest of the class dive over a pole into a somersault on a mat, including my friend, who amazed me throughout the class with his martial arts skills.

"Yeah I'm just going to crawl underneath it," I said to the instructor, who stopped me the next time it was my turn and told me to do the exercise correctly, but slow by just doing a kind of standing somersault.

After the crazy cardio exercises, we lined up in two lines, one in front of the other. The front line, which consisted of the most advanced students, then faced the back line so we could practice some moves and tweak our technique.

The guy in front of me who I just noticed at this point then became my partner. He was so nice and patient in teaching me the difficult techniques that it was hard not to immediately like the kid. And it wasn't until he kept reminding me to look at his face when I was throwing punches that I realized just how attractive he was.

"But I don't want to punch you in the face," I told him, as I was directing my punches just to the right of his head. I am not going to be the one to mess up that gorgeous face. Those dimples are really adorable, I thought.

And it just got worse from there, as I felt more and more distracted by this guy's charm, even though the moves we were doing were complicated, and we were practicing them up to the point where one of us had to tap the other to signal that it hurt too much.

"No, don't do that. You don't want me behind you," he said when I tried twisting out of a move with my back to him.

Oh I don't know about that, I thought. Ack, get your head out of the gutter. But the thoughts only got worse from there.

"Try this. Take my arm and pull it into your chest," he said, trying to teach me one of the two ways we learned to break someone's arm.

Babe you don't have to tell me twice... Ugh! Erika! Concentrate... No, not on those dimples! On the technique. "OK, like this?" I asked him, trying my hardest to pull his arm toward me while figuring out how to wrap my other arm around it and, after placing three fingers reminiscent of a mantis on his forearm, simulate bending it unnaturally so it'd break.

"There you go! Let's do it again," he replied.

And even though I felt like I barely treaded water and my thighs were screaming at me from sweeps (where you drop to the floor and sweep your leg out in front of you with the goal to knock your opponent to the ground), the sifu teaching the class told me "good job for keeping up," at the end of the class.

"So are you going to sign up for a class?" my friend asked as I was inhaling Mediterranean food from the restaurant across from the school. 

"Uh," I said, thinking about how uncomfortable I felt trying to keep up with those who are masters of this art. "I think maybe I'll try a beginner's class next time."

Day 276: Stop. Focus. Click... On First Friday

After a long stressful week, it's great to unwind with fantastic art at First Fridays at the Museum of Contemporary Art, appetizers prepared by Wolfgang Puck, and the girls mustache-ing while decked out in our crimped hair and ballerina tutu's for '80s night.

Day 275: Remember the Time... 'Erika' Sounded So Pretty

"Mommy, how do you say my name?" I remember asking my mom when I was a kid. "Is it 'AIR-KAH' or 'AIR-IH-KAH'?"

"It's however you want people to say it," I remember her saying.

I want only people with heavy accents to say my name.

When I was in the Dominican Republic, people who could speak very little English usually at least had the ability to ask, "What is your name?"

And after I'd tell them, "My name is 'AIR-IH-KAH'," they'd always reply, "EH-REE-KAH'" with the tongue roll. I know hearing your own name is music to a person's ears in general, but I just loved hearing their accent come out when they said my name.

Would it be weird to adopt an accent just when I tell a person my name?

Day 274: If I Ruled Lichtenstein... Customer Service Would Be At Your Service

I'm already not pleased when I have to call apartment building managers, the doctor's office, or virtually any customer service known to man. So why do they always make it so much tougher for me to keep my sanity on hold by forcing me to listen to horrible, repetitive, tinny music?

This was all too reinforced when I had to call the IRS the other day - yes, I had to call the IRS in March - and was on hold for 38 minutes. THIRTY-EIGHT MINUTES of grinding, looping, horrific "hold" music before I got a very cheery woman with a southern accent asking me how "I can help y'all out."


In Lichtenstein, every customer service center will always be overstaffed. That way holds, and, naturally hold music, will be eliminated. I can't even in good conscious want to improve hold music because all I'd be doing is making a bad problem just a little bit better. I'm here to solve problems.

Of course there will be downtime, but that downtime will be well spent on solving the problems that cause people to call customer service in the first place, whether that is making language a bit clearer or figuring out how to make less inferior products so they don't break, causing people to call customer service.

Day 273: What Did Batman Say To Robin... About Brainwaves

Holy going against the grain Batman!

What’s something you know you do differently than most people?

This one's easy. Think. I think differently than most people. Or at least this is something I have to believe.

For starters, I have a line from a song playing in my head at all hours of the day. It could be the song from a commercial (damn you catchy mattress and cat food jingles) a song I hear on the radio, or one I recognize that someone is humming near me (right now I have "Thriller" by Michael Jackson playing on a continuous loop). 

Second, I am not always in control of my brain. It runs away from me and sometimes leads me to dark places without my consent. You'd think that your brain is in your head, so you should be able to control it, right? Not always for me.

And third I feel like I bounce from idea to idea and thought to thought and emotion to emotion faster and more forcefully than most people. This is a strength in brainstorming situations, for example, but a hindrance when I have to focus on a single task or need to remember just one thing (which I can easily forget because my mind will wander elsewhere).

So my mind works differently than most people's.But it's me. And that's OK.

Day 271: Shakespeare's High School Poetry... On The Big Screen

Naani means an expression of one and all. The poem type consists of 4 lines of 20 to 25 syllables, but is not bound to a particular subject. Generally it depends upon human relations and current statements.

Films

Living vicariously

Through on-screen characters

Takes the monotony

Away from my life.

Day 270: A Picture is Worth 1,000 Words... On Unpleasant Surprises

Bet he didn't expect opening this from a friend who he thought had wanted to bury the hatchet.

Last week's cliche: He bought it hook, line, and sinker

Day 269: Stop. Focus. Click... On Please Play With Your Food

Carved fruit always gave our buffet meals an extra festive touch in the Dominican Republic.

 

Day 268: Remember the Time... Encyclopedias Were Sold Door To Door

I love talking to people. It's one of the reasons I was a good journalist. I had no problems going up to anyone, anywhere, even if it was a man wearing filthy overalls at a gas station because I was interested in why he had so much scrap metal in his truck bed for a story I was working on.

On my recent business trip, I had an opportunity to talk to two members of our sales force - one of whom had been with my company since 1974. That's right - for eight years before I was even born.

The stories these two women told were fascinating. They had, after all, been with the company since the sales force were charged with selling encyclopedia sets at county fairs and door to door. They took me back to a time when my company was "a book company" with just five products that would never have CDs.

One of the sales reps couldn't afford a set, but was told that if she sold three sets to three other people, she could give up her commission and instead receive a set of encyclopedias. She thought that would be easy, and for her at that time it was. She stuck with the company after those initial sales.

 

I learned that the dreaded response was from stay-at-home moms saying, "I'll have to talk to my husband," and that before e-mail, the stack of faxes the reps would receive would sometimes topple over because they were so high.

When the Internet exploded, these ladies said they were terrified as to what it would do to the business. They had be cracking up when the told the story that it took four ladies several hours in a hotel room to figure out how to connect to the Internet, even though one of the women had brought her phone from home. And the reason they weren't successful was that they had forgotten to plug in the Internet cable.

In some ways it sounded like a much simpler time and in others it seemed more difficult. Either way, it was fascinating.

Day 267: If I Ruled Lichtenstein... Screwing Over A Friend Means Jail Time

My neighboring cubemate at work is a crazed Chicago Blackhawks fan, as evidenced by her Blackhawks screensaver, calendar, and headband she keeps in her cube at work.

So when I heard that my hockey team - the Detroit Redwings - was coming to Chicago to battle the Hawks, I suggested we get tickets. A few other colleagues wanted to come along, so I (stupidly) decided to put the cost of all the tickets on my credit card and have everyone pay me for them individually

This was not an issue for one of my colleagues, who paid me right away. It became a bit of an issue when one of my friends had to back out a few days before the game, but thankfully we were able to find another colleague who wanted to come along.

But it really became an issue when, while I was en route back to Chicago from my business trip, that my cubemate texted me to tell me that one of our colleagues couldn't go to the game. And he told her of this fact hours before the game (even though we had asked him several times to make sure he still wanted to go). Without paying me for his ticket. Leaving me having to scramble for someone who was not only free for the night, but who also wanted to trek downtown and pay $87 for a hockey game.

Luckily my cubemate was able to put a sense of urgency in the matter and find someone free for what turned out to be a hilarious and fun evening - starting with a limo ride to a pizza parlor, Eduardo's, where my very drunk colleague waltzed in the door with an open beer demanding to be served by Eduardo himself - and ending with me literally babysitting said colleague and putting him on his train only to see him wandering off from my train's window. In between was a close hockey game that saw my Wings lose by just one goal.

However, in Lichtenstein, it is going to be against the law to screw over a friend like that. The law would see to it that that friend paid for his ticket and then was out that ticket or that money if he couldn't find a replacement because he was at fault for not being able to make the game.

This kind of thing should be simple courtesy, but when that fails, in LIchtenstein the law takes over.

Day 266: What Did Batman Say To Robin... About Morphing Into A Car To Help A Brother Out

Holy uncomfortable situation Batman!

In this old cartoon, Turbo Teen, a teenager had the ability to literally transform into a sports car. If you were a car and agreed to have you friend use you as a car on his date, what would your next move be when your friend and his date got hot and heavy and started having sex on you?

This question obviously depends on how hot the chick is. If she's one of those barely legal chicks with a too-good-to-be-true bangin' body, then I say I'd remain as a car and enjoy the show. Sure, it might be uncomfortable to essentially be the bed in this threesome, but there would be plenty of  opportunities to innocuously cop a feel.

But if it were some chick my buddy just picked up because he was looking to get some, I'd probably stop the sesh before it gets started by morphing back into a person and start yelling about what a perv my friend is. It'd be a total cock block move, but better than having some hot, sweaty ugly chick rubbing up all on me.

Day 263: A Picture is Worth 1,000 Words... On Flipping Some Cash

Flipper's come out to do some damage.

 
Last week's cliche: It's a small, small world

Day 262: Stop. Focus. Click... On Doing Nothing

As I'm nearing the end of my Dominican Republic vacation, I'm realizing that there's just so much "nothing" I can do before I go stir crazy. I have determined that five days is enough, but seven is too many. It's still beautiful here, though.

 

Day 260: If I Ruled Lichtenstein... First-Come, First Serve Basis Would Rule

We woke up relatively early this morning, considering we were on vacation, and were looking forward to laying by the pool all morning and afternoon.

So we headed out to the long pool that winds its way along the length of the resort. We passed dozens and dozens of lawn chairs - some of which had a hat or a book on them. The rest of them had the ubiquitous white towels from the resort on them to "reserve" them.

So there I was standing in the middle of a sea of empty blue lawn chairs - each with a white towel on them, and several with one towel draped across several chairs - feeling frustrated that no one was occupying the chairs, yet I felt like I couldn't take over any of them because they were "reserved."

What was more frustrating was that once I scrounged up two together by dragging one from the pool and another that was not reserved because it was slightly broken, I sat there for hours near "reserved" chairs that no one came to claim while people who were ready to sit out by the pool circled like vultures waiting for people to leave.

I have come to realize that I cannot tolerate what I consider unfairness. It was unfair of people to reserve chairs for hours while they lallygagged around in bed while others wanted to use them, but didn't want to be rude.

In Lichtenstein, everything is on a first-come, first-serve basis. The first people to the pool are the ones who get the lawn chairs. The first people to the concert get the front row, etc. If you truly cared about something, you'd be one of the first to get there and would stay there.