Social Graces

As of late, I've been incredibly confused as to what it was I had been feeling.  I was silently and viciously attacked without my knowledge, and I refused to show anger over it.  For that I was accused of being a sociopath, to which anyone out there who has ever dared to read my blogs would know that to be incredibly false. Anyone who's ever known me in person would know that wasn't true.  I'm filled with deep emotions that I must try to control lest they control me.  I just know not to get angry over petty things because it doesn't do anyone any good.

I've learned a lot since moving to California in 2002.


1.  Nice towels are worth spending a few extra dollars on.
2.  People only want to know you if you can do something for them.
3.  A drive along the coast will cure just about anything.
4.  Traveling is worth every cent we can afford to spend on it.
5.  Life is lived outside of four walls and two rooms.
5.  Everything out here is measured in time, not miles.
6.  There's not a person in the world who won't lie to your face.


Social graces within the workplace dictate that names shall not be named.  I am personally guilty of that action, and for that action alone, I apologize.  I apologize to my boss.  I apologize to his wonderful wife. I apologize to those people I named. HOWEVER - what I told was true so I will not apologize for having said it.

As several people lately will attest to, when I have a problem with someone in particular, I go directly to them - not to everyone around them, people who know them, neighbors, roommates and total strangers.  Those would be the actions of a coward - someone who feels it's necessary to hide within the shadows.  I'm not a shadow dweller.

After posting a blog recently, I was accused of being extremely egotistical by someone who claimed to not know me and refused to put anything but "Anonymous" for their name.  To clear THAT one up, I never said that everyone in the world wanted to BE me.  What I said - if you can understand plain English please feel free to go back and read it again here... - was that I've known so few people who actually loved me.  People who claimed to love me were actually obsessive people.  I draw them to me like flies.  They don't realize they are obsessed with me, and perhaps they aren't at first, but that turns out to be the case.  Not every one of them want to BE me, but what I said was "People wanted to be with me, be like me, be around me or just BE me."  I stand by that.  Now - stop posting anonymously and your comments might actually be posted.  *wink*

Those who obsess over others usually do for those reasons - am I wrong?

So I'll leave you with these final thoughts on the matter before I get back to writing about my regular program of stories, travel adventures, upcoming excitement and joyful times...

Don't obsess over others.  It leads to no good.

When you break social graces, it's ok to apologize.

Any time I have a problem with someone, I go to them. If you don't hear it from me, I don't have a problem with you.

And finally - Life is too short to spend time with people who suck the happiness out of you.  They aren't worth the time, so why give it to them?  People, it's time to move on.

No Heros or Villains

One of the biggest faults I've ever been known to have is trying to find blame within myself when I have none to burdeon. Sometimes this causes me to do things that will further mess things up and finally I will have a valid reason to blame myself for things going wrong. It's a viscious cycle and I'm ready for it to stop.

I'm ready for a lot of things to stop... I'm ready to stop going on like tomorrow won't come, like I won't be ok, like I'll be abandoned yet again in my life. Because that's not going to happen. There will always be another tomorrow. I'm a survivor and I will always be ok in the end. And I won't be abandoned. Not now or ever. People care about me and love me. When one door closes a window will open. When one bridge gives way, a swing will appear. There is always another way - as long as 'surviving' it all is the end result.

It's not the end of the world. For a while I thought maybe it was. I thought I was standing on the shores of Shymia and looking out into the ocean, thinking to myself what my childhood t-shirt said... "It's not the end of the world, but I can see it from here."

Well, it's not the end of the world. It's breathing space. It's room to move. It's the lack of pain, suffering and wondering, at least for me.

There are no villains or heros in this story. Nobody is at fault, nobody is to blame. Nobody is going to swoop down and carry away all of our problems. Superman doesn't exist this time around. There will be no miracles. There will be no divine intervention. This is what it is. That's all.

No point in crying over it or getting depressed and feeling like I can't get out of bed. No sense in laying still for hours on end because I lack the motivation or will power to get my head off of the pillow. No more sleeping in order to hide from the inevitable. I'm not to blame. I shouldn't feel like it's the end, because as it was so bluntly put by someone else yesterday, it's NOT.

There are no heros.
There are no villains.
This isn't a story from the past.
This isn't a fictional novel I'm reading.

This is real. This is now. This is me. This is LIFE.

It's not the first time I've found myself in this kind of situation. I know I will be just fine. I always am. I just need to get in gear to make sure that happens.


Yep.
The redhead in me has returned.

Shoplifters

Shoplifting is on the rise. Crime in the Retail Industry has grown over the past few years beyond belief. While some blame it on the economy, I tend to blame it on society in general. I found an article online here that says "Holiday Needs add up to more thefts," but that doesn't make that much sense to me. While it would be nice to afford nice things during the holidays for our loved ones, the material "need" doesn't truly exist. I don't "need" anything for Christmas. Sure, there are a lot of things it would be nice to have, like sheets that fit my bed and a pot to cook with, those things are not necessity. I've lived this long without those things, I can last a bit longer. The last thing in the world I would ever want would be for someone to go to jail because they couldn't afford to buy me a set of sheets that I don't really "need" even if someone had the inclination of getting them for me.

Children are found shoplifting in even the high-end neighborhoods. These are the kids who's parents buy them a brand new BMW for graduation and a new pony (or in the case of the area where I work, a new Thoroughbred) for their birthdays. Yet, when a call goes out of a shoplifter, it's one of these kids that have everything. It's not about the lack of funds for these kids, but rather the thrill of doing something they aren't supposed to.

Shoplifting has always been an issue, since the beginning of shops, but back in the street markets of the 1400's it was because a mother couldn't afford food for her children. In the 1920's and during the Great Depression, people couldn't afford bread and the occasional child would steal bread for their families. The movie "Cinderella Man" showed this in a proud and honest way. The father actually scolded his son and walked him back to the store to return the stolen food, even though they were starving.

To see the trends of Shoplifting is astonishing. I did a random Google Search on the subject and was amazed to see the trend increasing by leaps and bounds starting in the 1950's here in the USA. Even during the Great Depression, the reports were minimal even with as much starvation as was prevalent at the time.

Values and morals, as well as pride, punishment and honor are all lacking these days. People do it just to see if they can get away with it. There was a time when people would be too proud to accept or purchase stolen goods, while now we have something called the "black market" that thrives in stolen items. It's grown so much that it now has its own name.

In the beginning this was going to be a story that surrounded my own personal experience at watching, catching and even participating in shoplifting. Now it's turned into more of an informative piece on the trends of Shoplifting and my own astonishment to the trends that have developed over time.

I went through a Shoplifting training course back when I handled Loss Prevention for Circuit City. It was explained to me that about 80% of all thefts in the retail industry are from employees. I saw plenty of that there during my time. Of the remaining 20%, more than half are people who can afford the items they steal, but do it basically for the thrill of the crime, the quickening of the heart and the slight adrenaline rush they get upon succeeding in the crime. The remaining percentage is mostly professional shoplifting rings of people who sell these items to the 'black market' online or out of the trunks of their cars. Very few thefts are actually done by people who can't afford something and desperately need it.

In total, approximately 1% of all theft here in the United States is by someone trying to feed a needy child or provide warmth through clothing they can't afford. There are programs in place to take care of these people, such as shelters and food stamps for feeding children and adults, Goodwill for clothing those who can't afford coats in the winter.

It's my personal belief (and not the direct opinion of my company or anyone I'm associated with) that ALL STORES should prosecute Shoplifters to the full extent of the law, and if the explanation of the trends above isn't enough to convince you, try doing your own research. Learn more about Loss Prevention. Talk to your local Law Enforcement agencies or Security professionals about Shoplifting. If people aren't sure what to do, find out.

Lets cut down on Shoplifting this Holiday season. It's senseless, selfish and stupid.

My 4 Most Embarrassing Moments

Yesterday I posted a story about a time when I scared the pants off of someone... Well, turn about is fair play, as they say - is it not? As a moment of lapsed sanity and against my better judgement, I'm going to tell you all about a time or two that life got the better of me and had me eating Humble Pie.

In life, we all have the moments when we see an attractive man or woman who's attention we want to get. More often than we would care to admit, we've tripped or done something incredibly embarrassing and left the object of our attention doubled over in laughter. Honestly, that happens to me about 80% of the time I try to get a man's attention. It's no wonder I'm so shy - I know I'll do something stupid.






One of the most horrifying moments I've ever lived through was at Universal Studios CA when I was just a kid. Mom and I were waiting to get on the tram ride through the back lot (back before the entire park changed into nothing but lame 3D shows seen from standard theater seats and City Walk didn't exist). She saw this great, realistic statue of Frankenstein. I remember the statue towered over my dad. Today's translation in my memory would be around 7' tall. Its hands were as big as John Wayne's. If the statue was real, it could have palmed a basketball like an apple. The statue scared me a bit, but I had no idea why. I was around 8 or 9 I believe.


Mom asked me to stand next to Frankenstein for a photo. She pulled out her camera, played with the focus for a minute, and aimed at me. It's a good thing the camera strap was around her neck, because suddenly she screamed and dropped the camera. She reached forward and snatched me by the wrist, yanking hard, just about the time I saw a big green hand come to a rest on my shoulder. I screamed and looked up at Frankenstein, who looked straight down at me, smiling. The "statue" was no statue!


I screamed and ran into my mothers arms. Instinctively we ran a few steps away like a mother bear and her cub running from a panther. Then my mother turned around, ready to do some damage - again, like a mother bear. My heart pounded and her 'be warned' "wooo hoo hoo hoo..." that began incredibly high pitched died out slowly at a normal octave. She shoved me behind her and I watched from under her elbow.


Suddenly she burst out laughing. All of this had taken place in somewhere between 1 and 2 seconds. I think somewhere in the beginning I screamed as loudly as I ever have.


Frankenstein felt terrible. He told my mother he was sorry where nobody else could hear him (characters aren't supposed to speak) and he tried to shake my hand. Still terrified beyond belief, I remained hidden behind Mom. She coached me out and I shook his hand. I tried to dash back behind her again, but she wouldn't hear of it.


"It's just a man in makeup," she said to me, as if she never yelled or panicked along side me. "I still want a picture."



I turned and looked up. As my eyes scanned from their natural view level of his belt buckle, I took in every inch of the massive towering tree trunk before me. My eyes grew wide, I'm sure. He reached out to take my hand so he could walk me back to the original posing point, and I screamed again. Finally he made a very smart move and squatted down. He still towered over me, but he was no longer taller than any human I'd ever seen in my life. I grew a little braver and hugged Frankenstein when he gestured, and everything was ok.


Somewhere in a box buried in the back of a closet in a large house in Northern Utah, there's a 3 inch novelty button with a picture of Frankenstein and myself inside.








Back when AOL chat rooms were all the rage, I used to get into the rooms all the time. One girl in particular had a signature that she used every time she signed out of a chat room. She would say her goodbyes and then put in the following text:


3...
2...
1...
POOF!


Just like that, she would be gone. She would sign out for the night and that was that. One day I decided to mimic this idea. I wasn't having a lot of fun online that day and decided to go play with Cookie instead. I hit the 3 and then the ellipses and pressed enter. I hit the 2 and entered the ellipses. I hit the 1 and then the ellipses. When the time came, rather than type in pooF, I ended up typing "poop" and pressing enter before I noticed my mistake. The very busy chat room fell silent. Not a single line crossed the screen. I typed in "oops" and pressed enter.


The chat room erupted in uncontrollable laughter. Every line filled with LOL or ROTF or the sparsely used ROTFLMAO. I laughed until I hurt. To this day, if I'm having a bad day, all I have to do is think about that one idiotic moment and how I made people all over the world laugh, and I can't help but at least chuckle to myself. It never gets old.








While I was living in Arizona, all of my friends in the neighborhood apartment complex had decided to have a BBQ at the pool one day. I was late coming home from work because my employee evaluation went better than expected. I had been given a raise and asked to stay late in order to receive an appreciation award. (I still believe it was the creepy old guy trying to get into my pants).


When I got home, I jumped into my swimming suit and grabbed my things to run to the pool with. I gathered my cigarettes, lighter, towel and sunblock, bundled them all up inside my towel, and took off. I couldn't help but notice that my very good looking neighbor down the way was standing out on his half circle upstairs balcony smoking a cigarette. I strategically pulled my lighter close to the edge of the towel so that I could drop it at the precise moment I chose.


I took off for the pool, jogging down the sidewalk. I didn't exactly have the figure of the Bay Watch babes, having just bounced back from starvation, but I still wanted to get his attention. Boy, did I manage that!


At the precise moment I wanted to drop my lighter, only about 10 paces before his balcony, I nearly lost my footing. The lighter slipped loose and flew through the air. It bounced off his patio just inches from his fingers and landed in the grass far off to the right. I wasn't concerned with getting to the BBQ anymore. I just wanted to get out of sight. I knew without looking that the handsome neighbor was looking right at me, wondering what I was doing. I jogged out into the grass to retrieve my lighter from where it landed.


About a yard before I reached the lighter, my foot slipped in the wet grass and everything I had went flying through the air. I landed on my backside and slid through the grass as easily as if it were a slip and slide. Cigarettes rained all around me, my towel ended up in the bushes, and my sunblock opened on its way south. When it landed, a stream of lotion came squirting out with force, shot through the air, and landed in an arc over my head and streaming through my hair.


I was facing away from the balcony, and even the lotion gluing my hair around my ears couldn't stop the sound of laughter coming from behind me, but it didn't sound like it was coming from the balcony.



"I was having such a horrible day," he said from just a few feet behind me. "Not to make light of the grass stains on your swim suit, but my day just got a whole lot better." He gave me a hand and helped to gather my things. He asked if I was ok, and my shy side over reacted. I reached up to push my hair back behind my ear and felt the ooze of lotion between my fingers. Nearly retching with the embarrassment and shame, I hung my head, told him thanks for helping me, and ran straight back home. I figured the BBQ would still be going after dark. The grass stains on my bikini bottom and legs were NOT something I wanted to try explaining at a BBQ.








Last July I had a call to open a roof access at work. Just as I came around the corner to meet the A.C. repair guy and guide him to the stairs, my eyes locked with a GORGEOUS man I'd never seen before. He looked to me like Prince Eric from the Little Mermaid. He was riding up the escalator right in my direction. Still harboring some 'shy' side to me, I looked away and waited for the AC guy to show up. Then I looked back at Prince Eric - he was carrying a repair bag. Prince Eric WAS the AC guy.


Knowing my face was already red from being caught staring at him, I turned and told him over my shoulder "This way, Sir," and kept on going. I hit the door at almost a trot, leaving him panting up behind me. I headed straight for the stairs and bounded up two at a time. He stayed right behind me. At 6'2" he wasn't exactly short legged. He had no troubles.


Suddenly I took a false step. I felt myself starting to fall backwards and knew I would end up breaking my neck and landing in a heap at the bottom of the steps. My first thought should have been "Oh, I hope we have good workers comp," but in all reality, my only thought was "I knew I was going to do something stupid in front of Prince Charming." It was too late to fight the fall, I was half way down.


Arms reached out from nowhere and caught me around the waist. He set me back on my feet and just like that I continued climbing the stairs - as mindless as a robot or as steadily as a slinky in reverse. I made certain it wasn't obvious that my face was now purple from being embarrassed and my heart was once more thumping between my ears, threatening to give me away. I couldn't wait to get him up to the roof hatch and say good bye.


It didn't dawn on me until 10 minutes after I let him on the roof that I hadn't even bothered to say thanks. I snuck back to the stairs and half way up the ladder to the roof hatch. I attached a note to a step that simply said "Thanks for catching me on the stairs," and then climbed back down and split. I wouldn't show my face until I knew he wasn't around anymore.


We all do it, we just don't all admit to it.


Now it's your turn. What's YOUR most embarrassing moments?