New Job, Old Loves

I'm waitressing, again, and this time, I'm actually kind of good at it. The uniforms aren't awful, the menu isn't huge, and at the restaurant's absolute busiest, I'll only have 6 tables. I can handle this. The good/bad news? I'm working weekend nights, when the most money is out there, but that completely tanks any attempts at a social life. I could lower my standards, but what would be the point? Guys that are open to dating during the week are either unemployed, hiding something, or married, and I'm not going back there again. Speaking of going backwards, when I was talking to someone I dated years ago, let's call him, Mr. Y2K, he reminded me that it can be a bad thing to revisit past relationships. A newer guy has popped back into my life recently, but everything about him is still the same as it ever was, and he's now reminding me more and more why I don't date guys like him. Maybe I need to revisit my "Superhero Seeks Same" post and update who I'm after, any suggestions for constructive changes are welcome!

Leading More Than One Life

Those who have known me for a few years are aware of my somewhat bizarre custody arrangement with my ex-husband. No, I'm not talking about his taking over ownership of my cat, but about our having our son for one week each, then switching over on Sundays at 6pm. What this does to my life, and his supposedly, is force a shift in activities and priorities week to week. Finding cool places to go and things to do with my son isn't a problem, this city is packed with kid-friendlyness. The problem lies in what to do during the weeks he's not with me. Have you ever heard the saying, "An idle mind is the devil's workshop"? That's pretty much what goes on - either I spend far too many hours in bed feeling sorry for myself, I engage in flights of fancy (seriously, I've got about a billion frequent flyer miles from those), I make plans to do things that will never be set in motion, or I go out and do non-constructive things in order to numb myself and not feel lost and alone. The worst part is the self-sabotage; not plannin what I have to do, making excuses when things don't happen the way I want, or setting myself up for failure with goals that are way too high in the short term. Writing about this is an attempt to change old behavior patterns and get moving in better directions. Knowing what I'm doing wrong and putting it out in public makes me feel a bit more accountable, even if some of the slightly naughty things I do on my weeks off are enjoyable. The hard part of leading more than one life is choosing what parts of each I want to keep when I finally pull it all together.

I Need to Move

For a number of reasons, and in a few different ways, I need to move. Change is a good thing, and I'd like to think that I'm pretty adaptable to new situations and circumstances. Right now, I feel the need to move my body, as in exercise, after a long winter of not doing much in that vein. There's a 90-Day Train for a 5K plan that I'm hoping to follow, not that I have a particular 5K race in mind, but it seems like an achieveable goal. Moving my mind in new directions also seems appealing, and I've been going to the library for a few months now, checking out books from the New Releases section in order to find what's out there. I don't read a lot of fiction anymore, not because there's nothing edifying out there in that genre, but because I've been concentrating on business building books and more how-to manuals. Oprah's book club is even starting to look appealing, so it must be time for a change in reading habits. Moving house will probably be the most major change, and it's motivated on a few different levels, first being that where I'm living now is no longer dog-friendly, and I refuse to give up Bam. Second, a feeling of "itchy feet" is starting to set in - periodically, getting out of where I am is necessary. In previous living arrangements, I was able to simply move the furniture around, or buy some new object to display to give me a new view. This time, however, a kind of claustrophobia is setting in, and the walls feel far more solid than they are. Taken all together, I need to move, to tear things apart from all sides, inside, outside, upside down.

Hi baby, what's your name?

That is how my telephone conversations begin, from 9am to 1pm, Wednesday through Sunday. My new job as a phone sex operator is neither challenging nor rewarding, but it is occasionally interesting. I'm not sure how ethical it is to describe the nature of the calls, or the callers, or the staff at "the office" that I call into daily that monitor the calls. What I can talk about, is that it is becoming obvious that although this job is mildly amusing and has ample opportunities for shock value, I am not getting any sense of satisfation out of it, and very little monetary compensation. So, to offset the lunacy and derive something out of this experience, here are a few observations:

- Men do not believe it is gay for them to perform fellatio on a transsexual, or to have a transsexual return the favor, however, they are off-put by the phrase "return the favor"
- Phone sex callers are probably not big on cuddling with their real-life partners, my only evidence of this being the speed at which they hang-up the phone post-orgasm
- Some callers really make the phone operators angry, the ones who are already ready already, the ones who speak in voices so low that dogs wouldn't be able to hear them, the ones who want to meet me in person, and the ones who don't bother to describe themselves in flattering detail. I mean, I'm adding & subtracting a few inches here & there, why can't you do the same to give me something to work with?
- My work week begins on Wednesday and ends on Sunday, so when the supervisor asks me on Sunday to stay on for a few more hours, this is the wrong time to ask... it's equivalent to asking Peter to come in on Saturday, and how about you come in on Sunday too...
- The hours I work are not the busiest times of the day, so I am able to get a lot done around the house, which is cool, but, when a caller asks me where I am & what I'm wearing, I'm sorely tempted to respond that I'm in the kitchen, hip deep in dish suds, wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt with food stains... then again, I'm sure some guy out there finds that incredibly sexy
- I love callers that do the work for me. Guys who call in and describe what they want to do to me & ask me if I like it are great, even if they want to go ass to mouth. Sure, yeah, ok, whatever you want baby!
- Certain callers give me the creeps. Like the one who wants to screw the underage next door neighbor girl, or the one who's convinced I'm his soulmate and we should set things on fire together. These kinds of guys that I talk to on the phone are making it really difficult for any guy I meet in person to get anywhere near me.
- I'm not allowed to discuss drugs, pedophilia, necrophilia, bestiality, criminal activities, or give any details that would lead a caller to be able to find and/or contact me. But that leaves a whole range of things that I personally find ... icky. However, the upside of this is that I may be preventing some of these guys from actually going out and doing these things to another human. Unsure if that's exactly how it works or not, but it's something to hold onto in the hopes that it prevents violence or depravity amoung the general population.

This job may pay the bills for a short time, but I'm finding that like any other employment situation that I've ever been in, it's starting to suck my soul out from my nose.

A Poet's Soul....

In a jar, somewhere in my kitchen, buried under boxes of junk....
But he yearns for poetry, and I acquiesce....

Electronic Man

Distance bridged by fickle media
Words fly slowly across the page
Soul and thought fear not the implement
Intellect feels and soon it fails

The planet swings again
Connecting outlets to devices
Phrases form solidly into fact
Life not lived without notice

We strive or we contrive
To wring passion from exchange
Affirmation of opposition
There's no meeting in the meaning



There ya go, fine, I did it, and I guess it didn't kill me. But The Bard is still The Man, and #57 is still killer shit.

Warning Label

So, I was talking with the Pharmaceutically Enhanced Goddess the other day and she laughingly suggested that I need a warning label, something to let strangers know exactly what's in store if they approach me. A few of the items she recommended, and a few I came up with on my own are:

- Handle with care, potentially flammable
- Not to be operated by anyone under the age of 30
- Do not attempt to engage this device while under the influence
- Makes frequent, sudden stops, turns, and bounces
- Changes Opinions and Clothes faster than intended
- Dangerous Curves
- Occasionlly Exceeds Tolerances to Alcohol, Caffeine, and BS

I'm sure there are more signs that people wish they'd seen displayed, feel free to add a few of your own.

Being "Less Than"

A while back I stumbled into a phrase that explains a lot, quickly, when I use it as an internal editor, and whenever I introduce someone else to it, they seem to understand exactly what I mean: Less Than. It's become something more than what it started as, and now I'm putting it out there to see if anyone else gets it.

I have been made to feel Less Than someone else, and it sucks, so I try not to make other people feel that way.

I have given Less Than my best effort, and I failed, miserably, so I try harder the next time I'm given an opportunity.

Tonight for work, I sat in on a conference call, more like an hour an a half talk by a life coach, and a lot of what she said was the usual drivel that anyone who's sat through any motivational speaker could parrot back. There were a few challenges and comments that stuck out, however, about attitude, discipline, accountability, and getting out of your own way. What this all had to do with the Less Than thing was this: in every area where I've been giving Less Than, I've been getting Less Than. In relationships where I've been Less Than 100% in, I've been Less Than loved. In my work, where I've done Less Than what I could do, I've been Less Than successful. My crappy attitude, lack of discipline, no sense of accountability, and generally being my own worst enemy has gotten me Less Than what I want. Time to change all this? I'll keep you informed...

Dumb Joke and 2 Other Weird Events

Where do compulusive masturbators keep their money?

The Spank Bank!

Weird Event #1:
- I went to get groceries at the Kroger that used to be a Farmer Jack on Warren & Middlebelt today, and all was well... until I went to the checkout lanes. First, they've eliminated the "Candy Free" lane that I love because instead of candy, there are 46,328 other impuluse items, and some of the stuff is really cool to look at, bummer. Second, there were employees standing at the entrances to the lanes looking like Buckingham Palace Guards. I didn't quite know exactly what it was they were there to watch over, so I figured maybe these were stock people caught shoplifting and were being put on time-out by a manager or something. I - was - wrong. As I entered the lane to put my groceries on the conveyor, one of them grabbed the side of my cart, guided in it, and began putting my stuff up there for me... UM, NO!!Especially since it was a squirrely looking little guy, and I was buying tampons... sheesh. I let the checker know that it was weird in a bad way, she laughed at me a little and said she'd let the manager know.

Weird Event #2:
-Actually happened last night, but I was too tired to write about it then. I'm sure you've seen signs at corners that people put up advertising lost dogs, garage sales, etc. Well, as I sat at the light on Beech Daly between I-96 and the post office, I watched a lady as she struggled to mash her sign into the ground at the corner by the utility pole. What she failed to notice, while smoking a cigarette and jabbing the metal stake over and over into the earth was the ORANGE GAS LINE DO NOT DIG Flag directly in line with the hole she was trying to make. When the light turned green, I got out of there, shaking my head all the way... as much as I wanted to take a picture of the stupid lady blowing herself to kingdom come, I didn't want to be that close when it happened.

Pillow Talk

I had a conversation last night with a friend about men and women, and how we've lost a sense of how to interact with one another. Well, that's not how it started, but that's what we eventually got to. The changing dynamic of who's responsible for what as far as how the world works has led to some confusion in both men and women. It's been put this way: men have forgotten to be men... that didn't lead to a discussion of what it is to be a man, since that conversation would've taken far more time than I was willing to devote to talking. The point is that all the big talk of equality and rights and double standards and oppression, etc, has left the average person adrift when it comes to talking to the opposite sex. Can the internet be used to get men and women to communicate again? Are the little things we say in comments on pages and in chat rooms the first steps to making it safe to say, "hi, you seem intelligent and attractive, let's discuss the upcoming presidential election further?" Or is the point of all of this technology to help us into the World Wide Bed?

This is why I am who I am:

I've been using Serendipity Chick as a nickname for a little while, and now, dictionary.com has finally made it make sense... today's word of the day is:

serendipity \ser-uhn-DIP-uh-tee\, noun:
The faculty or phenomenon of making fortunate accidental discoveries.

The word serendipity was formed by English author Horace Walpole (1717-1797) from Serendip (also Serendib), an old name for Sri Lanka, in reference to a Persian tale, The Three Princes of Serendip, whose heroes "discovered, quite unexpectedly, great and wonderful good in the most unlikely of situations, places and people."

Progress is being made!

On another site I wrote a little bit about direction and life, that I'm in a really good place right now, as far as knowing where I'm going and taking steps to get there. I've mentioned that I'm moving, but the house isn't completely ready to go yet, and that's ok, it'll get done in due time. Me & The Rockstar are working on it every day this week, along with The Ex and Mr. Pants Hat and whoever else we can bribe into coming out to help. June was a rough month for me as far as work is concerned, but things are falling into place in that regard, as I get more bookings and all the records sorted out, it looks more and more like I'm doing all right.

The last big deal in my life right now is dealing with men, and this has proven more difficult. There is a man who has fit all of the "superhero" categories so far, we'll see how he fits into the costume, and how good he looks in the cape. Unfortunately, there's also another man, who doesn't seem to fit, indeed, he's the opposite of what I'm looking for in so many ways, but I keep ending up in his company from time to time. Then there are the random men who fit a category here & there, but either they aren't making an effort to see me, or I'm not making an effort to catch up with them for whatever reason. There's too much going on right now for me to put up the effort required for a relationship, so I'm going over this for no benefit, really.

Snooping and Peeking

Recent personal events have gotten me thinking about how to figure out what a person is like when you have relatively little time to do so. Which would be easier: to ask, and hope that the answers that you get are open, honest and unrehearsed? OR to snoop through a person's book, music, and movie collections to see what stimulates their mind? The internet encourages us to post our "favorites" on every profile page that we fill out. Is this a subtle, sneaky way to reveal more about our psyches than we ordinarily would, or is it just a ploy to figure out what we'll buy next? It seems I'm generating more questions than answers. What a person chooses to let into their eyes and ears indicates as much about their personality as what they choose to wear, drive, or otherwise consume.

Today was supposed to be my first bike-riding lesson, but CK called yesterday to let me know that he's got an opportunity to play softball on a league this summer, and since they have a game today, would it be alright to reschedule? I was looking forward to finally getting this together, but since I hadn't bought a helmet yet, it was not a huge deal to acquiesce. At the time he called, I was driving, didn't have my calendar with me, and was really unprepared to talk to him for whatever reason. The weather yesterday was crappy as heck, rainy led to stormy, so I'm not sure the ground conditions would be optimal for this adventure anyway. It's possible that we'll be getting it all together on Sunday, depending on coordination of priorities and schedules.