Monday, August 31, 2009
Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?
TAKE this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow —
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand —
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep — while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
TAKE this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow —
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand —
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep — while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
Thursday, December 09, 2004
bad customer service, meet your new poster boy
"whole wheat bagel, plain tofu," i order at the local bagel shop.
"toasted?" "no."
two minutes later, the guy prepping my bagel asks me, "with cream cheese, right?"
uh, no. what part of "plain tofu" sounds like "cream cheese"? and is it really so hard to remember?
then i look behind the counter to see him scraping off the cream cheese he had already smeared on my bagel in an effort to rectify the order.
"can i have a new bagel?" i ask. but really, should i even have to ask that? is it an acceptable tactic in a restaurant anywhere to scrape off inadvertant condiments instead of preparing a fresh order? it's like going to a denny's and ordering a burger with no mustard only to have them serve you one with mustard, then the server taking it back and scraping off the mustard in the back and reserving it to you. as if--even if your tastebuds were unable to discern the subtle remnants of mustard flavor--that is acceptable restaurant practice because the customer doesn't know. no, it's not!
"whole wheat bagel, plain tofu," i order at the local bagel shop.
"toasted?" "no."
two minutes later, the guy prepping my bagel asks me, "with cream cheese, right?"
uh, no. what part of "plain tofu" sounds like "cream cheese"? and is it really so hard to remember?
then i look behind the counter to see him scraping off the cream cheese he had already smeared on my bagel in an effort to rectify the order.
"can i have a new bagel?" i ask. but really, should i even have to ask that? is it an acceptable tactic in a restaurant anywhere to scrape off inadvertant condiments instead of preparing a fresh order? it's like going to a denny's and ordering a burger with no mustard only to have them serve you one with mustard, then the server taking it back and scraping off the mustard in the back and reserving it to you. as if--even if your tastebuds were unable to discern the subtle remnants of mustard flavor--that is acceptable restaurant practice because the customer doesn't know. no, it's not!
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
"He who establishes his argument by noise and command shows that his reason is weak."
apparently reasonable behavior and an iota of self-awareness are too much to ask for in my world.
case in point:
my brother and i haven't spoken in months. it all started when i took him to task over his flagant disregard of my authority at work. "you're taking out your frustrations on me!" he whined. uh, no. i'm asking you to complete a task that i assigned to you within the parameters i described. if i say, "please go here now and do this," that does *not* mean, "please tell me that you are going to do it but then sit there until you are finished with your online game." if i call you on your bad job performance, then at least be adult enough to examine your behavior instead of deflecting the blame onto me.
months go by during which my brother ignores me completely. when he's not ignoring me, he's hanging up on me (nevermind the fact that i was calling to speak to my mother, not him). after some time, i call with the intention of reestablishing a "normal" relationship. i bring up the old issues in order to resolve them once and for all. "i don't understand why you're being such a creep!" he yells. huh? ok, i give up! he resumes ignoring me.
after some time (i cannot attest to the chronological accuracy of these events because it's all become a blur by now), he writes me an e-mail: "time has healed all wounds." nice. great to know you've recovered from being an immature jerk! will you grant me permission to simply cast aside *my* emotional wounds from this whole drama? because, you know, such issues are easily forgotten and never, ever rear their ugly heads again once tossed out the window.
at this point i feel that i'm just not interested in a relationship with someone who's prone to such juvenile outbursts and emotional volatility, and who holds me to a standard to which he doesn't even hold himself. our relationship will never be the same, and there's nothing that will change that. however, i have no desire to expend any energy willfully ignoring him at family gatherings. so at the last outing, i interacted with my brother. nothing profound, mind you. just standard superficial fare.
what glorious treat is awaiting me when i get back home from said outing? a thank-you e-mail to my aunt from my brother, which he so kindly copied me on with only the most selfless of motives. "thank you for driving me and everything else you did!" he writes to my aunt. "i am sending this to jenny so that she may learn how it's done." EXCUSE ME? could you *be* any more obnoxious and insulting? just because i don't write effusive, obsequious thank-you notes with the dual-purpose of serving as a didactic tool for those poor souls lacking my level of social grace *does not* mean that i don't express my gratitude.
being the thoughtful, self-aware individual that he is, my brother responds to my comment that i do not find such behavior endearing with his classic:
"why you so mean to me? WHY YOU SO MEAN TO ME?" that phrase has become so tiresome and redundant because if he were to think about it, he should be able to deduce why i've reached my tolerance threshold.
but why reflect on your own behavior when you can add emotional blackmail to the mix instead? so now it's not just "why you so mean to me?" but "why you so mean to me? you might live to regret it!" excuse me--WHAT? is that a veiled reference to an impending suicide attempt? so you can stomp on *my* feelings whenever you like, and i have to grin and bear it and pretend our relationship is normal because you're gonna kill yourself and i'm gonna feel bad???
how 'bout saying "sorry"? wouldn't that strike you as much easier than all these machinations? no one is perfect, but it takes a man to develop the level of self-awareness and humility necessary to admit his shortcomings. i guess you're still a boy.
apparently reasonable behavior and an iota of self-awareness are too much to ask for in my world.
case in point:
my brother and i haven't spoken in months. it all started when i took him to task over his flagant disregard of my authority at work. "you're taking out your frustrations on me!" he whined. uh, no. i'm asking you to complete a task that i assigned to you within the parameters i described. if i say, "please go here now and do this," that does *not* mean, "please tell me that you are going to do it but then sit there until you are finished with your online game." if i call you on your bad job performance, then at least be adult enough to examine your behavior instead of deflecting the blame onto me.
months go by during which my brother ignores me completely. when he's not ignoring me, he's hanging up on me (nevermind the fact that i was calling to speak to my mother, not him). after some time, i call with the intention of reestablishing a "normal" relationship. i bring up the old issues in order to resolve them once and for all. "i don't understand why you're being such a creep!" he yells. huh? ok, i give up! he resumes ignoring me.
after some time (i cannot attest to the chronological accuracy of these events because it's all become a blur by now), he writes me an e-mail: "time has healed all wounds." nice. great to know you've recovered from being an immature jerk! will you grant me permission to simply cast aside *my* emotional wounds from this whole drama? because, you know, such issues are easily forgotten and never, ever rear their ugly heads again once tossed out the window.
at this point i feel that i'm just not interested in a relationship with someone who's prone to such juvenile outbursts and emotional volatility, and who holds me to a standard to which he doesn't even hold himself. our relationship will never be the same, and there's nothing that will change that. however, i have no desire to expend any energy willfully ignoring him at family gatherings. so at the last outing, i interacted with my brother. nothing profound, mind you. just standard superficial fare.
what glorious treat is awaiting me when i get back home from said outing? a thank-you e-mail to my aunt from my brother, which he so kindly copied me on with only the most selfless of motives. "thank you for driving me and everything else you did!" he writes to my aunt. "i am sending this to jenny so that she may learn how it's done." EXCUSE ME? could you *be* any more obnoxious and insulting? just because i don't write effusive, obsequious thank-you notes with the dual-purpose of serving as a didactic tool for those poor souls lacking my level of social grace *does not* mean that i don't express my gratitude.
being the thoughtful, self-aware individual that he is, my brother responds to my comment that i do not find such behavior endearing with his classic:
"why you so mean to me? WHY YOU SO MEAN TO ME?" that phrase has become so tiresome and redundant because if he were to think about it, he should be able to deduce why i've reached my tolerance threshold.
but why reflect on your own behavior when you can add emotional blackmail to the mix instead? so now it's not just "why you so mean to me?" but "why you so mean to me? you might live to regret it!" excuse me--WHAT? is that a veiled reference to an impending suicide attempt? so you can stomp on *my* feelings whenever you like, and i have to grin and bear it and pretend our relationship is normal because you're gonna kill yourself and i'm gonna feel bad???
how 'bout saying "sorry"? wouldn't that strike you as much easier than all these machinations? no one is perfect, but it takes a man to develop the level of self-awareness and humility necessary to admit his shortcomings. i guess you're still a boy.
Thursday, December 02, 2004
first, do no small talk...
i went to the doctor yesterday to get a lump on my stomach checked out and to try to uncover a reason (besides despair over the demonstrated worthlessness of the entire human race) for my unrelenting exhaustion.
doc comes into the exam room. i tell him i have a lump. he feels it and declares it a "fibrous tumor." i look confused, and then he says, "some people have fatty tumors; some people have fibrous tumors. nothing you can do about it--it just happens." well, ok, that sure puts my mind at ease. then, for the rest of the visit, he proceeds to make small talk with me about my job. "i'm tired all the time," i proclaim, trying to set him on track. "so am i," he responds. great doctoring skills there, marcus welby! i bet you graduated at the top of your class at harvard medical school! not to be deterred by my petty medical issues, he brings the conversation back to my job. Knock, knock. Anyone there behind the stethoscope? i'm all for pleasant bedside manners, but is it too much to ask you to at least incorporate some medicine into the mix?
doctors are so useless.
i went to the doctor yesterday to get a lump on my stomach checked out and to try to uncover a reason (besides despair over the demonstrated worthlessness of the entire human race) for my unrelenting exhaustion.
doc comes into the exam room. i tell him i have a lump. he feels it and declares it a "fibrous tumor." i look confused, and then he says, "some people have fatty tumors; some people have fibrous tumors. nothing you can do about it--it just happens." well, ok, that sure puts my mind at ease. then, for the rest of the visit, he proceeds to make small talk with me about my job. "i'm tired all the time," i proclaim, trying to set him on track. "so am i," he responds. great doctoring skills there, marcus welby! i bet you graduated at the top of your class at harvard medical school! not to be deterred by my petty medical issues, he brings the conversation back to my job. Knock, knock. Anyone there behind the stethoscope? i'm all for pleasant bedside manners, but is it too much to ask you to at least incorporate some medicine into the mix?
doctors are so useless.
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
would you like some dysfunction with that?
this thanksgiving i returned home for the perfunctory family dinner. traditionalists serve their main course with a side of mashed potatoes, but FamilyInsane serves up a side of crazy alongside the turkey (which i don't eat) for a change of pace. (don't anyone dare call us mainstream!)
pre-thanksgiving: my mother calls my uncle and orders him and my aunt (whom she dislikes intensely, to put it lightly) to bring over a dish or two for thanksgiving, as dinner's ostensibly going to be a group effort this year. no problem, but he'll have to consult with my aunt re what to bring, he answers. ok, says my mother, but it's imperative you let us know what you're bringing so we don't duplicate our efforts. make note of the clause in italics--there's gonna be a quiz later.
thanksgiving: *ding* dinner is served! as my uncle and aunt are putting their salad on the table, my mother whips out her salad. yeah, i'm with you on the "wha?" EvilAunt is understandably confused. my mother feigns ignorance or something (to be honest, i'm not sure what she said, if anything, because my head was already beginning to spin at this point). IncrediblyPatientAunt (aka "auntie" or "the good one") helpfully suggests that we save my mother's salad to eat later in the week, puts the lid back on it, and sets it aside. as soon as she does this, in an act i would label hysterical if it weren't so bizzarely psychotic, my mother grabs her salad, unclasps the lid, and smacks it down on the table, loudly proclaiming, "we can have both salads!" sorry i can't appease you, mom, but 10 pounds of salad is my absolute limit, and forgive me if i would rather not eat while subjected to the stress of your watchful eye, which would be busy darting back and forth, counting the number of times i grabbed from each salad bowl.
why does my mother feel the need to compete over salad? is it just me, or is that incredibly petty and ridiculous? pop quiz! was she really unaware that they planned to bring salad? you don't have any of us fooled, so you might as well just admit you're a passive-aggressive lunatic who will use any opportunity and any medium (lettuce?) to make a point (that you're crazy? because that's all i'm taking away from this incident).
if she doesn't start taking medication soon, i will.
this thanksgiving i returned home for the perfunctory family dinner. traditionalists serve their main course with a side of mashed potatoes, but FamilyInsane serves up a side of crazy alongside the turkey (which i don't eat) for a change of pace. (don't anyone dare call us mainstream!)
pre-thanksgiving: my mother calls my uncle and orders him and my aunt (whom she dislikes intensely, to put it lightly) to bring over a dish or two for thanksgiving, as dinner's ostensibly going to be a group effort this year. no problem, but he'll have to consult with my aunt re what to bring, he answers. ok, says my mother, but it's imperative you let us know what you're bringing so we don't duplicate our efforts. make note of the clause in italics--there's gonna be a quiz later.
thanksgiving: *ding* dinner is served! as my uncle and aunt are putting their salad on the table, my mother whips out her salad. yeah, i'm with you on the "wha?" EvilAunt is understandably confused. my mother feigns ignorance or something (to be honest, i'm not sure what she said, if anything, because my head was already beginning to spin at this point). IncrediblyPatientAunt (aka "auntie" or "the good one") helpfully suggests that we save my mother's salad to eat later in the week, puts the lid back on it, and sets it aside. as soon as she does this, in an act i would label hysterical if it weren't so bizzarely psychotic, my mother grabs her salad, unclasps the lid, and smacks it down on the table, loudly proclaiming, "we can have both salads!" sorry i can't appease you, mom, but 10 pounds of salad is my absolute limit, and forgive me if i would rather not eat while subjected to the stress of your watchful eye, which would be busy darting back and forth, counting the number of times i grabbed from each salad bowl.
why does my mother feel the need to compete over salad? is it just me, or is that incredibly petty and ridiculous? pop quiz! was she really unaware that they planned to bring salad? you don't have any of us fooled, so you might as well just admit you're a passive-aggressive lunatic who will use any opportunity and any medium (lettuce?) to make a point (that you're crazy? because that's all i'm taking away from this incident).
if she doesn't start taking medication soon, i will.
Tuesday, May 18, 2004
why does everything suck so much?
jonny e-mails me a copy of the (very long) personal e-mail he sent to my father regarding their quarrel over jonny's learning how to drive.
then my father sends a (very long) reply to jonny's e-mail, only not to jonny but to ME instead.
so i write to both of them and my mother (so that everyone is on the same nut tree) that i think they all need therapy and i'm no professional and not qualified to mediate, etc. etc., and my father writes back:
"typical response"
which is clearly an insult to me. so i get upset and write back, "what's that supposed to mean?!" and go on to say that i don't understand what they expect me to do when each one is sending me their version of the conflict. do they want me to press a magic "fix it" button? to take sides? it's just so unfair, especially considering that i have said time and time again that I don't want to be put in the middle. but whenever i say that, my father acts like I'M THE SPOILED PRINCESS DAUGHTER WHO DOESN'T WANT TO GET HER HANDS DIRTY BY HELPING HER POOR, HELPLESS (HAPLESS!) FAMILY BECAUSE SHE’S TOO BUSY BEING FED GRAPES AND BEING FANNED BY HER SERVANTS AS SHE'S SITTING UPON HER ANTIQUE BROCADED COUCH. as i was writing that and after i sent it, i was thinking about how he's probably pissed at me now and how he will probably refuse to take me back to the vet in NJ in case I need to go in the future (which i very well might, because kitty and xena have not improved the way they should) as punishment.
and then i get upset at my constant turmoil over not being able to stand up for myself and tell them all how idiotic i think they all are for refusing therapy when it is easily available to them and instead placing the burden squarely on my shoulders to fix all the problems that they themselves have created even though they don't listen to a word i say anyway lest they forsake me in my time of need (say, if i need a ride to the vet) unlike any other normal family who loves and supports their children unconditionally.
it makes me mad, it makes me want to cry, and it makes me want to shake a fist at the world for cursing me with such an insanely dysfunctional family.
jonny e-mails me a copy of the (very long) personal e-mail he sent to my father regarding their quarrel over jonny's learning how to drive.
then my father sends a (very long) reply to jonny's e-mail, only not to jonny but to ME instead.
so i write to both of them and my mother (so that everyone is on the same nut tree) that i think they all need therapy and i'm no professional and not qualified to mediate, etc. etc., and my father writes back:
"typical response"
which is clearly an insult to me. so i get upset and write back, "what's that supposed to mean?!" and go on to say that i don't understand what they expect me to do when each one is sending me their version of the conflict. do they want me to press a magic "fix it" button? to take sides? it's just so unfair, especially considering that i have said time and time again that I don't want to be put in the middle. but whenever i say that, my father acts like I'M THE SPOILED PRINCESS DAUGHTER WHO DOESN'T WANT TO GET HER HANDS DIRTY BY HELPING HER POOR, HELPLESS (HAPLESS!) FAMILY BECAUSE SHE’S TOO BUSY BEING FED GRAPES AND BEING FANNED BY HER SERVANTS AS SHE'S SITTING UPON HER ANTIQUE BROCADED COUCH. as i was writing that and after i sent it, i was thinking about how he's probably pissed at me now and how he will probably refuse to take me back to the vet in NJ in case I need to go in the future (which i very well might, because kitty and xena have not improved the way they should) as punishment.
and then i get upset at my constant turmoil over not being able to stand up for myself and tell them all how idiotic i think they all are for refusing therapy when it is easily available to them and instead placing the burden squarely on my shoulders to fix all the problems that they themselves have created even though they don't listen to a word i say anyway lest they forsake me in my time of need (say, if i need a ride to the vet) unlike any other normal family who loves and supports their children unconditionally.
it makes me mad, it makes me want to cry, and it makes me want to shake a fist at the world for cursing me with such an insanely dysfunctional family.
Thursday, May 06, 2004
long time, no write...
hey! no wonder i think my job sucks so much.
they may be unwilling to obey or submit to directions for which they can see no reason, or with which they disagree.--from a description of arian traits.
hey! no wonder i think my job sucks so much.
