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20130328

bah humbug

Today is my birthday.  Stephanie, here at work, redecorated my cubby with pink balloons and streamers and made me wear a tiara set with pinkish stones.  I currently have it on like a Ferengi.  She didn't tell me how to wear it.

 

I will never openly admit this right now because of all the pink, but I like Stephanie.  This was one heck of a payback to what I did to her desk recently.  I owe her now.  I soooo owe her...


Victory will be mine!


~w

20130301

Kyrie

I was reading some blog posts (or comments to such) about APD and stumbled across the title, "Kyrie."  Someone thought it was Carrie and that it was related to Star Wars.  I never had issues with this particular one to my knowledge, although I remember knowing that I couldn't make some things out for a long time.  I just never "misheard" it.  At any rate, it made me remember that I VERY much like the song, and had to go listen to it.  So I drudged it out of my iTunes library and now it's filling my earballs with its awesome, albeit repetitive, sound.

The first thing that I noticed after the slightly annoying start of high-pitched [whatevers] is that it has synthesizers.  Heavy ones.  Mostly on my left side... I do have headphones on, by the way.  I get that sensation of chills in my eardrums... that slightly shivering feeling that's so very pleasant.  It's almost like someone is plucking strings in my ears and tickling my spine with the attached vibrations.  I also become aware of a slightly distant metallic object being struck, like one of those little cymbals in a tamborine.  There are echoes of the voice singing and little echoey smacks.  And then I have to keep rewinding, because I keep swearing I hear an alarm going off, like a smoke detector, but I'm not sure.  At first I ripped the headphones off my head, listening intently.  Then I realized it was in the song.  It had a rhythm to it.  Annoying!  I hate those.  But now that I know what it is, I'm OK with it, even though parts of my body still recoil with fear over the sound.

The song fills out and from this point I stop hearing the individual pieces.  It becomes one huge pile of powerful monotony with an occasional tidbit of focus, lots of rhythm, and then the bridge of "Oh, oh, oh's" that bring my body to the ready.  I feel the chill settle into my spine, through my shoulders.  Then the music dies down some and the echoed repetition of the words draw the slight shiver out of me, both a relief and let down at the same time.  I wanted to stay there.  Yet, the release is immediately followed by the plateau until the song abruptly ends.  There are guitars!  Oh yeah!  I remember hearing those before!  Some of the smaller hairs along my shoulder blades stand on end and wear microscopic holes in the fabric of my shirt.  It's funny how the repetition is doable when I'm engaged.  This is not a song that you can talk over.  It wants to be totally absorbed into your bloodstream, or it will shatter your sense of well-being altogether.  Thankfully, I'm very good at becoming absorbed in things like this.  That's why it's in my iTunes library.  Somewhere.  Oh yeah, and Mark Schultz does an interesting rendition of it, but he's NOT Mr. Mister.  Frankly, his version is far noisier.  It also lacks that echoey eighties feel that I love so very much, and the bridge of Oh's totally throws me into a state of utter, desperate confusion, while nausea sets in for a split second until it heads back towards the noise.  Sigh.  Sometimes the original is simple better.

It never ceases to amaze me how my brain handles different things, though.  I mean, I can hear little plinks in the background of music, but I can't understand the words of someone on the phone without considerable, and exhausting, effort.  For instance, earlier today, I was asked to attend a 1.5-hour phone conference.  There are a few things I hate more than phone conferences, but from a sense of exhaustion and self-worth perspective, not too many.  Being in a real meeting over an hour in length is worse.  Not knowing the subject material in such a real meeting amplifies my discomfort by several nuclear reactions.  This particular phone conference wasn't that bad, but I knew it was probably a waste of time for me to go given the subject matter had little to do with me right now.  Nonetheless, I did not want to seem adversarial in any way so I nodded, grabbed my laptop "for notes" and headed off to the room.  Let me back up briefly...

I hate real meetings more than these phone conferences because I have to pretend I'm paying full attention.  By pretend, I mean, sit up in my chair and act attentive.  This is more distracting to me, and therefore, I tend to pay attention less.  Then I realize this, try to really pay attention, get exhausted trying to understand people, realize I'm slouching and looking tired again, and the cycle keeps repeating.  At least with phone conferences, I can appear distracted.  But I digress.

The room was quiet, with only three other people in it.  I was surprised, and pleased that I knew all of them well enough to feel relaxed.  However, the speaker was muffled and staticky to my ears even as I sat down, and I knew it was absolutely pointless for me to waste any of my mental resources on trying to decipher any of it.  So I didn't bother.  I knew three things:  Someone else was supposed to be taking the notes, I had absolutely no clue what the agenda even meant (at least there was one), and the meeting minutes would be dispersed and shared later.  So, I opened my laptop and began documenting a server that needed to be documented, catching occasional phrases out of context.  A few times, it was so out of context that I had fits of uncontrollable giggles, which amused my compadres.  Glad I could be of service.  I managed to get a whole server done in a chair that was way too high off the ground.  Apparently the system they were talking about has a major hole in it.  That's what I got out of the meeting.  Oh yeah, and I left a half-hour early for lunch because that's when I finished my documentation of that one server, and the subject matter hadn't even begun to make itself evident to me yet.  I'm so awesome.

Not that long ago, my boss asked a couple of us (myself and one other) to do some "brown bag" lunches, where we try to teach people and answer questions.  Ha!  Yeah, I don't think so.  That involves being the center of attention in a situation that is not totally under my control.  I get super spooked by those scenarios.  I immediately managed to talk my colleague into doing the talking, and I'd stick around for moral support and information where needed, as well as the design aspects of the sessions.  She was fine with that and took my professed discomfort quite seriously.  I was very grateful for that.  Anywho, we were joking about it later on and my boss was incredulous when he found out that I really, really hate standing up in front of people.  "You are NOT!" he said.  I totally understand why people might think that I'm OK with the attention.  I've come out of my shell a lot in the past several years.  I joke constantly.  I love talking to friends and colleagues.  I even pop in each morning and go, "HELLLLOOOOO my wonderful little peoples!" as I greet my colleagues - of which there are eight, total, and usually only three to five present to witness this display.  The thing is, I KNOW all of these people.  They know me.  Very well.  And they're all in little cubicles, not staring at me expectantly, not wanting anything from me, no questions on the backs of their heads.  I say this last part because they're generally doing the work when I glean their attention.

In other words, I like to attract attention, and converse, and ramble about whatever is on my wandering little mind.  I do not like structured, expectant sessions with lots of potential for appearing like an idiot.  Appearing like an idiot and acting like one are completely different things to me.  Seriously.

So yeah, I may seem bubbly and sunny and like I'd be the perfect speaker for conveying some new information.  I am very much not that person.  To do this, I would need to have a very strong, passionate grasp on the subject matter, knowing it inside and out, with a very firm belief in what I plan to discuss.  It has to be personal for me, or I flounder, stutter, and have trouble hearing people if they have questions.  I'd have to do it in the morning when my mind is most alert and at the ready - not when I'm starving or have just had a carb crash, such as at noon with or without a snack.  Noon IS lunchtime for me.  And, I'd have to do it in a controlled environment... one where questions are forcibly limited to the subject matter at hand, outside noises are kept at bay, and the audience isn't talking over me or checking their cell phones for email.  Very little, if any, of these requirements could be met, and honestly, are probably not worth the effort when other people are perfectly fine doing the job instead.

I've occasionally been attracted to acting, but never acted on it (haha) because as soon as I begin to imagine doing it, I remember that in addition to a huge time commitment, it would also mean performing in front of people.  The cold sense of fear that twists my spleen into a knot is overwhelming, so I have always quickly discarded the idea of acting.  DND is perfect for this aspect of myself, after all... and tea parties work, too.  I have outlets for my dramatic side.  Good ones!

Anywho, ramble over.  I've got some more tea to make.

~w