stream of conscious sunday: my birthday

My birthday is in seven days. It seems like it’s really speeding towards me this year, palm open and ready to slap me across the face. Last year I turned 26, and I wasn’t dreading it so much as I am this year.

It’s not the getting older thing that bothers me. It’s the odd number thing. 27 just doesn’t have a very nice sound to it. 

“Oh yeah, cool, I’m 27.”  Said no one ever.

Pffft.

I’ve never really been one for celebrating my birthday. It was usually just an occasion for someone to make me feel terrible, and sink me into a dark depression for at least a week.

As a kid, I used to hide under the table when everyone would try to sing Happy Birthday to me. Or worse, when everyone’s attention was drawn to me to unwrap all the gifts. What if I got a shitty gift? I’d have to hide the shattering of my little child heart and pretend like I was oh so happy to receive pink fuzzy socks. That hasn’t really changed in adulthood. I hate opening presents in front of people.

I don’t like being the center of attention, I’m more of an avid onlooker that sits back and takes it all in. Forming a good story or silently judging the idiots making fools of themselves.

 

The only time in my life I started to really enjoy my birthday was when I started dating Kh. I’ve had 2 birthdays with her, and each year she makes them pretty great. I get sucked into some kind of birthday obligation that involves hanging out with friends that make me feel miserable the day of my birthday, and Kh always plans a “make up birthday”, the day after. It usually just involves me doing whatever I want and her supporting me with my decision. If I wanted to lie in bed eating ice cream cake and watching Harry Potter all day, she’d be there to change DVDs for me.

True love, that shits for real.

I’m hoping this is the one birthday that afterwards I wake up and feel like an adult on. When I turned 20, I thought 21 would bring a newfound clarity on adulthood and life. When I turned 25, I thought it would be 26. And so on.

Well. Perhaps this is the birthday when others start thinking I’m an adult.

While I know it’s not your age that determines adulthood, I’m still waiting for that “a-ha!” moment. I mean, I’m ok with going on with life always feeling like I’m 21. I’d say 16 but I need to be able to legally drink in my own mind, right? And these lines on my face weren't there when I was 16. 

And my butt wasn't quite as wide as it is now. 

And my boobs weren't nearly this awesome.

 I'm sure I'll have more birthday posts this week. For now, shhh.. it's not this close..

xo

stream of conscious sundays : i'm self employed

 

For the past 6 months I have been working effortlessly to get to this point. I’ve put in a lot of long hours, and weeks without a day off. Overbooking myself, and very rarely ever-saying no to new work. Tomorrow marks the beginning of being 100% self-employed.

I haven’t thought much about it, but everyone I know has been pretty excited for me. I’m not accustomed to getting excited for myself. I knew a couple of things going into this.

One. There was no way in hell I’d ever be able to work for someone else again.

Two. I’ve really found something that makes me happy and I’m not dreading going to work each day.

I have strong opinions on all of that, but let me move in a different direction.

It finally clicked when my mom gave me probably the first advice she’s ever given me.

No one is going to go after what you want in life.

Done. Cicked. It’s a moto I’ve always lived by, but I needed to hear it come from someone else.

I had been struggling with the idea of going on my own for a while, and after a few irritations from the woman I was doing work for, I knew it was time. I sent her a very formal email last Sunday evening, and didn’t hear a single word from her all week. Professional, right? 

Thursday night I turn my phone on silent (I do this when I want everyone to just bugger off) and left it in the other room. When I look at it again I had a text from this woman, and 2 hours later I had 3 missed phone calls and a voicemail. It was over the most insignificant thing regarding a client I had seen that day. Mostly if I had written a note on a second visit or not. I ignore it, not really wanting to talk to the woman that’s been avoiding me all week.

About 10 minutes later I get a phone call from Kh. I’m surprised to hear from her so early (she was in California time working her butt off and I haven’t heard much from her). She informs me that she has just gotten a phone call from this woman that I hadn’t responded to. The woman said she was looking for me but I wasn’t responding to her messages. Are you motherlicking kidding me? At this point my blood absolutely boils over. You can’t reach me over the phone, for the most insignificant issue you can think of after you’ve been avoiding me and don’t even have the professional decency to respond to my email, but you’ll call my girl friend while she’s out of town to see where I am? Instead of emailing me? Rude and slightly crazy. 

I somehow managed to keep my cool and not completely rip her apart. I let her know it wasn’t necessary to call my girlfriend on such a small issue. That everything she needs from me will be sitting in my mailbox after 4pm tomorrow.

Then I immediately went over the million reasons why I’m so glad I won’t be involved in dealings with her any farther. If you missed it, she’s the insta-crazy I had to block on instagram.

Friday afternoon comes, and I get home around 3:15. I drive up to my house only to see her parked in front of it, just getting off my porch from looking for the keys. I take my time getting out of my car and she comes and stands right next to my door. I give her the keys and she proceeds to go over each and every key. She asks me where 2 keys are and I inform her the owners wanted me to keep the keys. This is where the fun begins.

She starts in by telling me it’s illegal, then quickly changes her tune to say unethical for me to stay with those clients. In most cases I try my hardest to stay professional and friendly, but something clicked in me and I stood my ground. I believe it’s within every pet owners right to choose who cares for their animals. I never signed a non-compete with her, and owe no allegiance to the woman that not once appreciated the work and clients I brought her way. 

She also couldn't comprehend why it was irrational and unnecessary for her to reach out to my girlfriend when not able to contact me for 2 hours on Thursday. She has a track record of not responding to my texts for a day or two, and even failing to respond to clients emails.

I had left notes at all the clients houses the day before letting them know Friday was my last day. She hadn't even informed any of them that I was leaving, so the couple that wanted to stay with me called me Friday morning absolutely insistent on not wanting to lose me. I never once solicited myself to them, nor did I seek them out to stay with me. I can't help it if I'm the cats meow (har har). 

In short, she was pissed off, and I was elated to finally be done with her. It was a long time coming, and I haven’t felt so de-stressed and carefree in a very long time. I quite literally feel like a weight has been lifted off me. It’s amaze-balls. 

This is the beginning of a new chapter in my life. I'm sad it had to end with so much drama on the part of her, but I'm not letting it keep me down. I'm always moving forward and growing. This is my next step forward. 

Hell yes. 

xo

stream of conscious sunday : a little alone time

On Friday I dropped Kh off at the subway station, and watched her disappear from my review mirror. She was on her way to a flight out West. To sunny California (at least it’s got to be sunnier than Massachusetts).

She’s going to be gone until next Friday. Her company is doing some work for TED, and she’s one of the lucky few that get to go. They went last year, and she got to tweet with Bill Nye. Neat, right?

I mean, Bill Nye tweeted her scribing, and then she retweeted his tweet of her scribing and they took a picture together.  Does that all make sense? Twitter confuses me!

When we first started dating, Kh was often traveling for work. Brussels, Germany, London, all over the US. But within the past year or so her promotion and role has changed considerably and she doesn’t travel nearly as much. We lived in different apartments then, and it was easy to get my alone time. Now I have to squeeze it in whenever I can.

The first afternoon without her coming home to dinner I’m all “le sigh”. Then the second day I’m all “ok, I can do this, lets get shit done!” But after that I slowly get lonely and miss the shit out of her. I've been making her facetime with me instead of talking on the phone, this way I have to pay attention and can't jut "uh huh" her to death. 

Ohhh do I love my alone time. 

My top 5 favorite things to do when I’ve got the apartment to myself. And try not to think of anything dirty here people. That’s usually a given.

1: I find any and every excuse to take a million naps on the couch.
2: I stay up until 1am drinking wine until I’m either too tired or to drunk to stay awake any longer.
3: I watch tv shows like The Vampire Diaries, because no ones here to yell at me and tell me it’s crap.
4: I go on a culinary tour of exotic places via my foodler account.
5: At the very last possible moment I rush around doing various chores to make it seem like I didn’t spend the entirety of my time alone doing all of the above. This is my least favorite, it means dishes.

I’m using this next week as a time to recharge myself. I’ve been running low on steam, and letting a lot of every day things slip by me.  I haven’t been in a positive, nor productive mindset in what seems like a very long while, and my mission this week is to kick my own ass back into gear. Whether it be finishing projects that have been sitting on the shelf, do some early Spring cleaning, or finally take that last step needed to be on my own business wise. I’m going to get it done. And I’m not going to be watching any paranormal movies while doing it. Serial killers? No problem. Psychotic disfigured beasts on a rampage? Ok, let’s do it. But ghosts? Scare the shit out of me when I’m alone. 

xo

stream of conscious sunday: insta-crazy

I’ve decided on Sundays I’m going to try and write about something going on in my personal life that’s making me feel guilty, or just something I need to get off my conscious. Or just random bull from my life in general.

Just recently I blocked my very first user on instagram. I’ve had instagram for a long ass time now, and for me to just now be blocking someone; you know it must be serious.

I do contracting work for a local-ish company. With this come a lot of consultations, meet and greets, schmoozing. This past Monday we had a client consult at my house for an overnight boarding request. This is the first time the owner of the company I contract for was at my house. It weirded me out a little, but a lot of things weird me out. Like peanut butter and jelly in the same container, or belly shirts.

What tipped the line of weird-stephanie out? The second she walked in the door she introduced herself to Kh and said she “practically knows her from all my posts on instagram.” Then she tripped up and even said that I was a “post-a-thon-er.”

Eh, what? Kh instantly turned red, and I played it off like “yeah sure, I’M the insta-crazy here.”

Over the next week I couldn’t stop thinking about how she pretty much said she stalked me on instagram. I don’t know her at all, and what I do know of her, I'm not overly fond of. So after getting over my guilt for not wanting her in my business, and getting the "it's ok" talk from my friends, I googled how to block someone on instagram.

I know it seems a little weird, since I have plenty of people I don’t know following me on instagram. But there’s a fine difference between people you don’t know and could potentially get to know, and someone that’s in your life that you completely don’t know, and possibly don’t want to know. There’s also that unwritten rule about never revealing you stalk someone online. My grandma breaks this one often.

“I saw those pictures your friend N posted on facebook, where was she? Who is that guy she’s with? Is that her cat? Did she buy new boots?”

Gram, shhhhh.

Am I crazy for doing this? Maybe. I still feel a little guilty about it, but since then I’ve made my profile private and I’m on lockdown. I know the internet and any public forum is fair game, but blocking features exist so why not use them? 

xo