I Don't Know

Dan and I went out to dinner last night at a little Italian restaurant. He seemed unusually sullen but he listened to me talk about my piece of idiocy; that being the episode of mistaken identity I wrote about in a blog entry yesterday. Dan did not seem to think it was particularly funny. He barely gave it a smirk. After dinner we went over to my apartment and watched some football on TV. Dan did not say much, he just sort of sat there gazing at the TV. Sometime around 9 I asked Dan if he wanted me to pop some popcorn; my favorite TV-watching snack, but he told me he was not hungry.

Around 10:30 or so Dan said he was going to go back to his own apartment for the night. This came as quite a surprise since he has been staying over both Friday and Saturday nights for about the past month. He said he had to get up early to meet with some friends. He gave me a quick kiss and then went out the door. He did not stay over on Wednesday either, despite my offer. I believe it has been over a week since we made love. I have aggressively tried to get him into bed on two occasions since, but I was rebuffed both times with what sounded like spur of the moment excuses.  

Over the last three or four days Dan has seemed very distant. He has seemed apathetic in our conversations. I have asked him if something is going on at work, and he has said that everything there is okay. In fact, he has said that everything in general is okay. But I can tell that there’s something that is not quite right. Anyway, like I’ve said; I just don’t get it. Maybe it’s just a phase. People do go through phases.     

They All Look Alike

I’m going to delve into the strictly politically incorrect, the politically incorrect but true. All young black males look alike. Okay, that’s not quite true. Actually, many young black males, who are of average weight and height, have a similar appearance. You know I’m right. The same is true with Asian males of like builds; they all look very similar too. I can tell them apart but not after one quick glance. It would take a few seconds of study. I grew up in a mostly white culture; nevertheless young adult white males can be tough to tell apart too. If they all had similar builds, and hair of the same length, I would find it a challenge to tell them apart, given only a moment of visual inspection.

For some reason younger females are a little easier to tell apart, regardless of ethnic background. I’m not sure why. Maybe there is a little more variation due to hairstyle and make-up. But they still are not all that easy to tell apart, but they’re easier to tell apart than their male counterparts. My physical appearance is not immune from this phenomenon. I look like every member of the Norwegian women’s synchronized swimming team.

Let me continue. Many older, white males look alike. They fall into a couple of categories. There are the bald, bespectacled white males, and the bearded, overweight, bespectacled, white males. Elderly white women look alike, and for different reasons so do elderly black women, and elderly Asian women. As far as appearance goes, it’s sort of a full circle thing because all Asian babies look alike, as do black babies, and white babies. At the infant stage, gender doesn’t even matter.

All this came to mind earlier today. My supervisor, Scot, a mid-50, white male, received a call right around lunchtime. He had just stepped out of the building, bound for a Chipotle, when I was asked where he was. I quickly darted out the door in pursuit, and there he was, a hundred feet across the parking lot, bound for his car. I rushed after him for a few seconds and then called his name. The man did not respond. I ran a little more and then shouted again. Still no response. When I had closed to within about ten feet of the alleged Scot, he turned and gave me a baffled gaze, only it was not my supervisor staring at me but a Scot lookalike.

I was annoyed by the moment of embarrassment, and the wasted physical effort. On the other hand, I knew I had a blog entry, a blog entry that was politically incorrect... but true.  

A Constantly Changing Self-Image

Well, I was going to quickly throw a few thoughts into my blog sometime around lunchtime, but I got sidetracked by blog comments, and my responses to them. Who would have thought that an entry into my goofball blog would be the source of friendly controversy? But I did not forget my original thoughts that sent me to my blog in the first place, and it has to do with my self-image.

I have a self-image that changes very quickly. It can change a few times during the course of a day. I generally consider myself something of a dingbat. This “dingbat” analysis seems to be almost always there. It’s like the canvas underneath the more pronounced self-images I see.

A lot of the time I see myself as an ordinary working woman who is intelligent enough, has a good disposition, and a decent sense of humor. But I am certainly nothing fancy. If I were a constellation in the night sky, I would be the Little Dipper. I’d be an apple on a fruit stand, not an apricot or a mango, just an apple that is not too big, not too red, and not too shiny.  

However sometimes I see myself as a pretty, almost sophisticated woman. All I need is a long, slinky dress to be quite a babe. Just for added emphasis, the dress could have a mid-thigh leg split. When such thoughts are in my head I feel like I ought to be sipping a martini at some chic party, or on the arm of a handsome man walking the red carpet at a ritzy function of some kind. I can get this self-image following a good hair day and a bathroom scale that tells me I weigh less than 115 pounds.

Then there are those times when I see myself as a complete nerd. Those thoughts can come when I am out bird-watching, or worse, when I am crouching down looking for wood frogs or salamanders in a vernal pool out in the woods. I’d probably be dressed in baggy pants, clunky hiking boots, and a spectacularly dorky hat. The nerd image would hit me when I would look up from whatever was fascinating me and see a nice-looking guy on a nearby trail staring at me as if I were the dippy president of the high school biology club (which I wasn’t, by the way). Fortunately when this self-image comes to mind I am eventually able to giggle at myself… well, most of the time.

To be honest, there are times when my self-image is of a woman who is slightly lacking in morals. This comes from being raised a proper Christian who became a full-grown, healthy woman who has a desire to experience all the pleasures of life. This self-image of immorality would be embedded a whole lot deeper, and felt more often if I had not forsaken Christianity for atheism. But unfortunately, that fear of hell can still haunt me from time to time. It isn’t easy to completely free oneself of a religious indoctrination. It can affect my self-image even more than a bad hair day, or at least as much.

A Modest, and Cowardly Activist

I am capable of some slight bit of civic activism, albeit a kind of cowardly version of activism. Yesterday after I added an entry to my goofball blog, I went to a website and got into a brief back-and-forth argument concerning the Miss World Pageant, God, and atheism. Apparently Indonesian Islamic clerics want the Miss World contest to be banned from their country, and eventually banned worldwide. I am not a big fan of Miss World or Miss Universe pageants, but as an atheist I do not want a religion to stop these contests based on the notion that it is immoral to show the female body in a bathing suit. In a sense, my atheism took precedence over my feminism.

Anyway, I argued from the standpoint of; how can a religion determine what God deems to be immoral without first proving there is a god? I’m sort of skipping the middle part of the equation. Rather than a debate as to what God proclaims to be immoral, I question the very basic existence of a god. When it comes to debating, I’m practically cheating. See, I almost cannot be defeated with this type of strategy simply because to prove there is a god there needs to be evidence, and there is no actual evidence. The evidence that there is a god is very similar to the evidence of extraterrestrials; questionable, unverifiable accounts of sightings and various dubious, unproven other forms of contact. But that avenue of debate can make people very angry. A person's religious beliefs are suppose to be respected and off limits. It's just that I can't seem to respect a person's religious beliefs in they effect other people negatively. 

But what I actually want to say is; I would never get into a debate like that with someone in person. I am not anywhere close to being that contentious and extroverted, and besides, I would be afraid of getting slapped. I can see my counterpart getting so upset, their face turns a bright red, and steam pours out of their ears. If I weren’t afraid of getting slapped, I’d feel bad for making someone so upset. But on the internet, I’m not only safe from physical attack; I cannot see the other person’s distress. Without seeing the other human being, I feel as though I’m just an ordinary person trying to make a point by going down a logical, but very unpopular path. Okay, make that an ordinary somewhat cowardly person going down a logical, but very unpopular path.

Thanks But No Thanks

I just got home from work and I am anxious to put this entry into my goofy blog.

I’ve worked at the same place, basically doing the same job for three years. I’m not going to go into a lot of boring detail, but I try to keep the area where I work humming fairly efficiently. I’m just an ordinary employee but I’ve taken it upon myself to keep management apprised of the area’s wants and needs. My motive for all of this is purely selfish; I want my job to be as easy as possible.

Friday I was offered a managerial position. Specifically, it is a mid-management position. I am not the highest paid person in the American workforce and with the promotion I would still be quite a ways from the top, but I would be a bit closer. I’m currently in the low $30,000 range. I would move up to around $50,000, maybe a bit more. Anyway, I was told to give it some thought over the weekend and if I could, have an answer by Monday.

This is Monday and if you can’t tell by the title of this blog entry, I said thanks but no thanks. To be honest, I had thought about it even before they asked me, just in case they ever did inquire, and I was pretty sure I would decline the offer. But I figured I would not know for sure until I was actually asked. Well, I was asked and within about a half hour I pretty well knew my decision. Still, I ran it by my boyfriend, Dan, and I called my father too, just to get his input. Both said the decision was mine. This morning I gave the pros and cons one last trip through my brain, just to be sure.

Mid-management personnel have to go to meetings and seminars. I would have to hire new employees and occasionally dismiss the underperforming ones. I would be responsible for employee evaluations. I would be at the beckon call of upper management, and hear the complaints of the regular employees. I have seen supervisory personnel forced into working long hours and a lot of weekends. I have no doubt that there would occasionally be days so stressful that a good mood would become a bad mood. Worse; there might be a time when I would be out in nature, perhaps observing a spider weave an extraordinarily complex web, and instead of seeing the wonder in it, I would be reminded of my duties at work.

I realize that the American way is to climb the “corporate ladder”. The somewhat whimsical model is to start in the mailroom and with hard work and perseverance, become the company CEO. Well, I can’t do it. It isn’t because I can see myself in a few years as a married woman raising children. It’s just because, well, I don’t want it. So earlier today I became quite humble. I stated that I was very flattered by the offer -which I was- but I would have to pass. I was ready to make a salary counter-offer if I were asked, but they did not ask. It probably would not have been accepted anyway. It was almost twice what I had been offered. If something is going to keep me from being fascinated by a spider weaving a web, it's going to cost them.  

A Few Silly Things

A few unrelated silly things…

Silly thing #1; My boyfriend, Dan, stayed over last night. He left a short time ago. We went for a walk early yesterday evening and this morning we discovered that he had multiple mosquito bites whereas I had none. He attributes it to the fact that I had a glass of wine shortly before the walk while he did not. Mosquitoes are attracted to the carbon dioxide in a person’s breath and Dan believes that attraction was thwarted by my exhaling of minute traces of alcohol. I am going to have to research his theory.

Silly thing #2; I am going to retire my favorite and oldest item of clothing. It is a top I have had since high school. It is a short sleeve, green top I often wear out hiking during the warmer months. I like it because its two pockets are wide and deep. I can pick something off the ground without having a pair of sunglasses fall out of a pocket. But the top is getting very threadbare. I have now worn it out on sunny days and have still gotten sunburned shoulders. I am very fair-skinned and sunburn easily, but still, an item of clothing should protect the covered area from the sun.

Silly thing #3; Yesterday Dan revealed to me that as a child he was scared of clowns. I have never had any doubt that there are kids who fear clowns, but I thought it was rare and the phenomenon was mostly an old wives’ tale. Perhaps not. I in turn revealed that I believed in Santa Claus until the rather advanced age of 8; a feat that I have largely attributed to being an only child.

Silly thing #4; I am going to have to forgo buying recycled toilet paper, or at least forgo buying the brand I have recently purchased. The paper has insufficient strength to withstand the weight of the roll when being dispensed. Consequently it breaks off with the slightest tug, one tiny sheet at a time. The company should have done some pre-market testing. Now they have lost the business of a recycling environmentalist. Such a loss does not bode well for the company.