mmmm
Ever since early yesterday morning, I've been feeling a little down in the gutter. My coworker in the course of our conversation about first time buying and mortgages mentioned her base salary. When I was initially offered the job, I had waited for about two months from the first email from the director to my phone offer to hear back from them. I had lost a lot of hope in working at what seemed like the best company, because of philanthropy, work environment, people and overall growth opportunity... so when HR called my direct line at my then job, I was so ecstatic that I practically jumped out of my desk chair. And you know how the rest goes, without a thought, I agreed to the first job offer... only to regret it 5 minutes after I get off the phone. It was much lower than what I had asked for, but it was definitely more than what I had made previously. By the week's end, I had talked myself into how great it is other than the fact that I didn't exactly get what I wanted, but overall, if I fell on my face on my way to work, I knew I had the coverage to take care of me, and Chuck's philosophy on contributing to the community, and promoting that within was great!
For the last month that I've been there, the thought of my salary never crossed my mind. I of course aspire to be better, to learn more, and to earn more as a result, but it wasn't something that made me worry, at all. Until yesterday. This girl, several months older than myself, having worked at the company for about a year and a half was making about 1/4th more... earning well above what I had asked for... maybe she negotiated, and was more composed than I was. And I know I was excited from the very beginning.
Anyway, I finally took some of the smaller projects that I've been working on in the past month that I've been with the company, and instead of waiting around for people to eventually get to me, I updated and revised the various components of procedures that I worked on, and submitted them. My director calls me shortly to ask if I had mirrored the template that I had received from the team lead in the other team that I work very closely with, and after receiving an answer to his liking, told me that he would forward my documents to the director of the Audits/Controls team, and we would make revisions as needed after he reviews them.
I started to work on the AMD project that has been sitting around untouched for the past couple of months without any updates... and decided that if it was important to my director, it's something I should update, and pronto!
In the midst of my updates to the system, I receive an email from my director about setting objectives and updating if needed. I skim through the website, and decide this is a good opportunity to go in and talk to my director. So I amble in, interrupt his emailing moment, and ask about the objectives.
Since I started working with the company, I have worked on Non Marketplace trading, and have intermittently worked on projects in between trades... and constantly going into my director's office, and various team leads and senior manager's cubicles to tell them that I don't have enough to do. I guess I got my point across. Yesterday afternoon, after the conference call with the people in Phoenix, my director asked me to stay to chat. So we discussed the projects, what I saw as potential downsides and my involvement with the project. This leads to a very vague discussion on redistribution of responsibilities within the two teams that he manages... and because of my constant nagging, they suggested that I help out where I can with projects that the other team has been overloaded with, the Non Standard Assets, something that my team lead says would be interesting because not a lot of people know about them, or know how they work.
So anyway, back to today, my director essentially touches on how the objectives are across the teams, and are essentially very general. This goes on to include why we have objectives, and at the year end evaluation (really important!) whatever we've accomplished throughout the year will play an important part, especially if we believe our ratings are not quite up to our own expectations. He mentions that my involvement with SAP would be something to be noted, and I randomly divulge that my involvement with SAP seemed to follow with my involvement with writing procedures and guidelines for Non Marketplace trading. He corrects me at this point and says that there were two reasons for wanting me to work on this project, first was the fact that I'm new and would as a result have a different perspective than those who have been with the company for much longer, and second because everyone else would be too busy to work on such projects. He further states that when I start to get more responsibilities I would probably refuse to work on similar projects in the future. I object to this statement, and so he explains this to me: On a day to day basis, people work their normal 8 hours a day, working on projects like this one would require 10 extra hours a week, how do you think people would be able to accomplish this?
So to explain, yesterday or the day before yesterday, he mentioned how people are often too afraid to take overtime for whatever reason... and he bluntly told me that if I ever had to take overtime, just to take it.
I've never been afraid to work, I've worked long hours before, working weekends, etc, if need be, so working long and hard isn't an issue... so I replied, with overtime. And he nodds. He then says, we have people work on these types of projects, and then when they know the team/department's process better, they can work on corporate projects. Those, he says, are what he thinks are most important. So I asked when he would consider someone to be experienced enough to work on those corporate projects, and he says that's very objective, it depends on the person... between 6 months to a year, and 6 months would be a stretch.
So I'm determined to learn as much as I can in the 6 months that I'm here, and will prove him wrong. I'll stay later if I have to, and get there earlier if I must. I need to get to that corporate project level, and I need to be one step ahead of everyone else. I need to get my engines going, and start trucking, because a lot of people have been there much longer! I need to show them that I can and am able to be that out-of-the-box thinker...!
I am determined.
Wednesday, July 18
Friday, July 13
Jul 13, 2007
Today has been a very interesting bonding experience with some of my coworkers. Interesting = good. And I've been conferencing with some people in Phoenix, and they seem like a nice bunch, I like them a lot, they're not quite as intimidating as they seemed when we first gathered last Friday. The project is coming along, because Brian is heading it, and I'm just giving my input, and trying to be helpful, but really Brian could manage that project alone, if need be.
Anyway to my topic.
Early this morning I was walking in the direction of the bathroom, down the hall, as I walk past a dark brunette I met briefly earlier in the month when I started, she whispers "I wouldn't go there if I were you.." and hurries along. I turn around confused, and she stops to explain, "It smells really bad in there... you are going to the bathroom, aren't you??" I simply took her word for it, and took the elevator upstairs to use the 8th floor bathroom. I wasn't exactly sure how someone could stink up the entire bathroom, but I wasn't about to find out.
Of course, in the last week, because of my late nights watching this Taiwan Romantic Comedy, I haven't been getting enough sleep, so I've been downing all sorts of caffeine throughout the day to get my system running. Anyway, today I reverted back to the healthier alternative, green tea. With enough tea, I can use the bathroom nonstop. So I'm making my way towards the bathroom, again, and I notice most of the stalls, save for the one that doesn't necessarily lock, and the one between two people... the others were taken. I figured it'd be safer to take the one that locks if someone randomly decides to ram the door, I wouldn't be sitting there half shocked, and half embarrassed. Anyway, I walk into the stall, and I take a turn... and then I start smelling it. I notice these really big jeans from the stall from which the smell was coming... and I just walk back out, and to the elevator.
When I first mentioned the bathroom incident to my coworker int he morning, she disposed of the identity of the suspect leaving the disgusting smell... so I noticed the jeans... and moved, I didn't want to be there when she had let out entirely. Good call, because the smell got worse as I was leaving several seconds later...
Anyway to my topic.
Early this morning I was walking in the direction of the bathroom, down the hall, as I walk past a dark brunette I met briefly earlier in the month when I started, she whispers "I wouldn't go there if I were you.." and hurries along. I turn around confused, and she stops to explain, "It smells really bad in there... you are going to the bathroom, aren't you??" I simply took her word for it, and took the elevator upstairs to use the 8th floor bathroom. I wasn't exactly sure how someone could stink up the entire bathroom, but I wasn't about to find out.
Of course, in the last week, because of my late nights watching this Taiwan Romantic Comedy, I haven't been getting enough sleep, so I've been downing all sorts of caffeine throughout the day to get my system running. Anyway, today I reverted back to the healthier alternative, green tea. With enough tea, I can use the bathroom nonstop. So I'm making my way towards the bathroom, again, and I notice most of the stalls, save for the one that doesn't necessarily lock, and the one between two people... the others were taken. I figured it'd be safer to take the one that locks if someone randomly decides to ram the door, I wouldn't be sitting there half shocked, and half embarrassed. Anyway, I walk into the stall, and I take a turn... and then I start smelling it. I notice these really big jeans from the stall from which the smell was coming... and I just walk back out, and to the elevator.
When I first mentioned the bathroom incident to my coworker int he morning, she disposed of the identity of the suspect leaving the disgusting smell... so I noticed the jeans... and moved, I didn't want to be there when she had let out entirely. Good call, because the smell got worse as I was leaving several seconds later...
Wednesday, July 11
Jul 11, 2007
It's only been about a month since I started here, and I've been a part of a birthday, going-away, company, celebration of some sort at least once a week. With two more such events next Monday and Friday. Although they bring people closer, I feel a little... tired of them, too. I'm super sleepy after the burger, even though at the time, the food didn't seem too heavy...
All I want to do is sleep.
On another note, I cannot wait until Sunday for AIDS Walk 2007! It'll be my 8-9th AIDS Walk that I've volunteered for... and now I'm getting some of my closest friends involved in it, too. Although they probably will not have the same enthusiasm for it as I would, it'll be interesting to see the energy they bring to the event.
I think my fraternity will also be attending the event, so it'll be interesting to see them all there. I wonder if my lb has decided, yet.
All I want to do is sleep.
On another note, I cannot wait until Sunday for AIDS Walk 2007! It'll be my 8-9th AIDS Walk that I've volunteered for... and now I'm getting some of my closest friends involved in it, too. Although they probably will not have the same enthusiasm for it as I would, it'll be interesting to see the energy they bring to the event.
I think my fraternity will also be attending the event, so it'll be interesting to see them all there. I wonder if my lb has decided, yet.
Tuesday, July 10
Jul 10, 2007
I've been involved with charity events for about half of my life, ever since I could safely ride the bus alone. Although I was never able to fundraise for them, I was always able to volunteer at them, giving the support that I could give, even if it couldn't be financial support.
Somehow that doesn't seem like enough. MAybe it's because I have the ability to donate now that makes it seem like everyone else who is able should also donate to the causes that I support. Of course not everyone feels the same way about charity as I do. My friends who spend some $20 on ONE lunch, who spend about $20 on ONE bottle of hair gel, are the same friends who won't donate more than $5 to the cause. That actually makes me a little irritated, and the ones who donate are the ones who won't spend a dollar more on a shirt just because. Ironic, isn't it? It would make moer sense if the ones who spent more donated more, but maybe the idea is that if you spend $20 on charity, that same $20 could go to that ONE extra lunch one could have.
Really, how does that make sense?
Somehow that doesn't seem like enough. MAybe it's because I have the ability to donate now that makes it seem like everyone else who is able should also donate to the causes that I support. Of course not everyone feels the same way about charity as I do. My friends who spend some $20 on ONE lunch, who spend about $20 on ONE bottle of hair gel, are the same friends who won't donate more than $5 to the cause. That actually makes me a little irritated, and the ones who donate are the ones who won't spend a dollar more on a shirt just because. Ironic, isn't it? It would make moer sense if the ones who spent more donated more, but maybe the idea is that if you spend $20 on charity, that same $20 could go to that ONE extra lunch one could have.
Really, how does that make sense?
Jul 10, 2007
I use to wonder how people could send emails from a future time, until I accidentally sent one myself.
I didn't get it, then, though.
If the computer clock is set to a future date, say September 11, 2007, all emails, if sent from Outlook takes on the same date! Exciting!
I didn't get it, then, though.
If the computer clock is set to a future date, say September 11, 2007, all emails, if sent from Outlook takes on the same date! Exciting!
Jul 10, 2007
I wonder how many people happen to come across my blog.
For the most part, I like the idea of not speaking to any particular audience, if an audience even exists. I find it comforting to know that although I am disposing of myself to the world on the internet, my identity is for the most part safe from scrutiny. My actions to those who come across them will mean nothing because I am nothing. I'm another person in the sea of bloggers disposing whatever one wills, without regard for anyone or anything, and that works for me.
I have friends who like(d) to share all their inner thoughts with all their close friends, and at one point in my first year in college, I liked writing some of my thoughts for everyone, too. Probably, (and most likely,) because it was the in thing to do. Even then, I kept two journals, one for my eyes only. Why would I share my deepest and darkest thoughts with people who only deem to know me, who in actuality don't know me at all. They presume to know me, when they've only just scratched the surface, so when I do dispose of my feelings, I feel the seering eyes, and the lightbulbs turn on, because they think, Oh!, I've just figured her out!, then of course, comes the criticism, sometimes, hypocrisy.
I find it especially annoying when people who appear to be my closest friends presume to know me, and all of my actions, behaviors, and opinions, and then proceed to judge me based on them. When really, how long have they really known me, and how long have I had to live with my own decisions, etc?
I am far from a pessimist, although sometimes I may come off as one, and I don't mean to sound so negative, but people really have taken the idea of growing up in an "independent" society too far.
I miss innocence.
For the most part, I like the idea of not speaking to any particular audience, if an audience even exists. I find it comforting to know that although I am disposing of myself to the world on the internet, my identity is for the most part safe from scrutiny. My actions to those who come across them will mean nothing because I am nothing. I'm another person in the sea of bloggers disposing whatever one wills, without regard for anyone or anything, and that works for me.
I have friends who like(d) to share all their inner thoughts with all their close friends, and at one point in my first year in college, I liked writing some of my thoughts for everyone, too. Probably, (and most likely,) because it was the in thing to do. Even then, I kept two journals, one for my eyes only. Why would I share my deepest and darkest thoughts with people who only deem to know me, who in actuality don't know me at all. They presume to know me, when they've only just scratched the surface, so when I do dispose of my feelings, I feel the seering eyes, and the lightbulbs turn on, because they think, Oh!, I've just figured her out!, then of course, comes the criticism, sometimes, hypocrisy.
I find it especially annoying when people who appear to be my closest friends presume to know me, and all of my actions, behaviors, and opinions, and then proceed to judge me based on them. When really, how long have they really known me, and how long have I had to live with my own decisions, etc?
I am far from a pessimist, although sometimes I may come off as one, and I don't mean to sound so negative, but people really have taken the idea of growing up in an "independent" society too far.
I miss innocence.
Monday, July 9
Jul 9, 2007
It reminds me of the 1 in 8 breast cancer statistic!
People skim far too often for their own good. Or they go over the most crucial bit of a statistic, and it changes the dynamic or perspective of the entire fact!!
People skim far too often for their own good. Or they go over the most crucial bit of a statistic, and it changes the dynamic or perspective of the entire fact!!
Saturday, July 7
Jul 7, 2007
I hadn't showered and my hair was a mess, but there was no time now.
---
"Are you going out, too?"
:Yeah...:
"Where are you going??"
:To watch the same movie Andrew watched last night...:
"Who are you going with??"
:-----:
"...."
I had gone shopping, again, prompted mostly from Henry's exclamation that Express was having a sale, and having stopped into a couple of stores a little after our lunch out in Union Square, I drove out to a more local outdoor mall and made several purchases at Ann Taylor Loft, and Express. I bought mostly career clothes, seeing that I have next to no time to wear normal, street clothes, and a couple of relatively nice looking CHEAP, bright colored tank tops (one in yellow, and the other in red). I chose the yellow for the night, and a pair of diesel jeans, flats for dancing comfort, and adorned a navy blue sweatshirt with my flowy top bunched under my sweatshirt to avoid suspicion.
I learned the night before, when put on the guestlist that someone I had previously dated would also be going, per request from a high school friend. Somehow in the time that we stopped dating, and he deciding to part ways with Christianity, he had become rather close to my partying friend. Quite a change from the ways of Christianity, I might add.
For one odd reason or another, I had decided despite the lack of a shower, I would still try as best as I could to look presentable, partly knowing that the person I previously dated would be there. I threw on some eyeliner, and some blush... and 10 minutes later, I get a call, and although I had put my contacts on, with my eyeliner in place... I set my glasses atop, squinted not looking anywhere, or at anyone, in particular, and rushed out the door.
Two seconds later, I whip the glasses off my face, run to the passenger side of the car, and hop in, only to be greeted by my friend's usual gay humor, "ewww what are you wearing?".
Of course, the rest of the guys were dawdling, and we ended up back at my friend's house. With less pressure to hide, I head for the bathroom mirror, and put on the rest of my face. It was only half complete... with my new interest in upscale makeup, applying makeup had transformed into an art creation, each time.
After some slow driving on the freeway, we get to the Mason St., tenderloin district, club Crash. The event is Crash Fridays, a different theme each Friday, created for the masses, with unmatched parallels, even within it's own crowd scene. We had been somewhat misinformed, at least at the time, that the club was quite empty. We walked up to a line, and we were some 20 feet from the entrance, with a second line forming on the opposite side of the entrance. The promoter walked by, thankfully, and my friend secured our free entrance into the club. And with good timing... they started to make people on the guestlist pay $10 cover to get into the club, since it had passed 11PM.
Lo and behold, we walk into a near empty club, and I'm thoroughly disappointed. The guys walk towards what looked like the door to the men's bathroom, and the guys prompt me to follow. I'm a tad withdrawn because I'm not sure where they were leading me. And as it turns out, they were going downstairs TO the bathrooms, not INTO the men's bathroom. The bathroom is crowded with females all too heavily made up, and for the most part, they looked rather uncomfortable, and well, like they party a little too much. They're all scantily clad, and as it should be, I suppose, they are what makes the clubbing scene.
I have a brief conversation with the man sitting on a stool, and then amble up towards the party, only to find that we would go up to the next floor, where the real party was at. I had no idea that the themes and atmosphere would change so drastically, separated by two flights of stairs was what appeared to be a very small dance area, but was much fuller than the more eclectic floor downstairs. Most of the crowd was here, and just as expected, my company of all guys head towards the bar, and I was bought my first drink - redbull and vodka, by a pimply friend of my friend. I down that, no problem!
My own friend who had come with me was nowhere to be found, I see his head some minutes later, walking behind the girl that he had once liked, and vice versa, and I'm stuck with a bunch of guys who dance seldom, or not at all. I had anticipated it, going to the club with a group of guys who don't dance much or at all, or need company to dance well wasn't what I would think of as a good time, so I was somewhat prepared for the long night.
When my friend finally returns to me, he offers to buy a drink, and so goes my second drink - AMF. After a couple of sips, I realize the drink was almost entirely vodka, way too strong from what I've previously had, and in my college years, I would have downed the drink, no problem, but after some months of sobriety, I was not prepared to have a drunken night out with my group of all guy friends. Instead, I offer my drink to my guy friends, all of which turned my drink away with a curt "c'mon finish it, you bought it!"
After drinking most of the drink, I amble over to my friend waiting for the restroom, and we stand around until the restroom frees. While waiting, an old friend from college walks towards my area, and soon enough I learn of his recent relationship break up, and I randomly decide to change hands with his accompanying friend. After all of the bathroom breaks, my new dance partner and I head for the dance floor to dance. By this time, I had had too much vodka in my system, and was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. Although I don’t need alcohol to dance, my inhibitions completely fall short while intoxicated, and I danced like there was no tomorrow. After some minutes of this, my new friend offers to buy me a drink, and goes my third – grey goose shot.
By the end of the night, I had changed hands fairly frequently. I danced with my friend’s coworker who had accompanied his exgirlfriend to the club, and had brought along another of my friend’s, an exgirlfriend to my other guy friend. I had partnered with the coworker, my own friend that had accompanied me, my friend’s friend, the last guy I dated, and the best time I had was jumping up and down to Kelly Clarkson's "Since you’ve been gone".
During the course of the night, my new friend has asked for my number in order to take me out during the day, I had somehow avoided the question, but by the end of the night, I was intrigued enough to tell him to give me his number. I hand him my phone, and he punches in his number. He's probably the smartest guy I've met by far... I wake up this morning, and see a text from an unfamiliar number. I read it, and it's signed Jon. Memories from the previous night rushed back to me, and I fancy the idea that the guy has somehow gotten my number without my knowing. And sure enough, while punching in his number, he had dialed it, so he got my number as a result, and was thus able to send me a quick text later in the night. And it was subtle enough to not seem desperate and intrusive.
What seemed funny to me was my blacked out memory, or selective memory of the night's events. I had exchanged kisses with both of my friends who had exs at the club, and thoroughly enjoyed the earlier exchange with someone I'm only starting to get to know. I do feel a little ashamed of the fact that I had let my inhibitions go, but at the same time, I'm not regretful enough to completely cut off ties to my friends. I brush them off as though they didn't happen, and move on as any other male would in similar situations.
Equally puzzling would be my interaction with the guy I had previously dated. I was not the one to call it off, I had decided for some time after we started chatting that I needed some time to collect myself, and to get myself into the dating mindset. I was still very much into my independence, my time with friends, and all that jazz, but it seemed as though I was asking for too much me-time, and he couldn't hang. He wanted out. I had pretty much anticipated that if he were able to wait for me for some months, I would eventually come around, but then again, not too many people can sit around while the world passes them, waiting for someone who seems not at all interested. And although he had called it off, and said that he felt all of these things about our incompatibility, he only further contradicted what he later tells me. One minute, he doesn't like emailing me, and finds it difficult to talk to me on the phone, and the next minute, he really looked forward to my emails and found our conversations stimulating.
I knew that despite everything, there would be something there. And sure enough, the entire night, the friend who accompanied me to the club was not the only friend to consciously, and actively watch me. He appeared several times throughout the night, often pulling me away from my new friend for his own benefit. Sometime during the night he whispered that I looked really good that night, and although it was flattering, I had stopped being interested in pursuing a relationship with him, and the comment did not do anything for me. I did not fawn over him, probably as he would have wanted me to, or try to get at him like I had first done under the influence. I was polite.
The most shocking part of the night happened in the car...
---
"Are you going out, too?"
:Yeah...:
"Where are you going??"
:To watch the same movie Andrew watched last night...:
"Who are you going with??"
:-----:
"...."
I had gone shopping, again, prompted mostly from Henry's exclamation that Express was having a sale, and having stopped into a couple of stores a little after our lunch out in Union Square, I drove out to a more local outdoor mall and made several purchases at Ann Taylor Loft, and Express. I bought mostly career clothes, seeing that I have next to no time to wear normal, street clothes, and a couple of relatively nice looking CHEAP, bright colored tank tops (one in yellow, and the other in red). I chose the yellow for the night, and a pair of diesel jeans, flats for dancing comfort, and adorned a navy blue sweatshirt with my flowy top bunched under my sweatshirt to avoid suspicion.
I learned the night before, when put on the guestlist that someone I had previously dated would also be going, per request from a high school friend. Somehow in the time that we stopped dating, and he deciding to part ways with Christianity, he had become rather close to my partying friend. Quite a change from the ways of Christianity, I might add.
For one odd reason or another, I had decided despite the lack of a shower, I would still try as best as I could to look presentable, partly knowing that the person I previously dated would be there. I threw on some eyeliner, and some blush... and 10 minutes later, I get a call, and although I had put my contacts on, with my eyeliner in place... I set my glasses atop, squinted not looking anywhere, or at anyone, in particular, and rushed out the door.
Two seconds later, I whip the glasses off my face, run to the passenger side of the car, and hop in, only to be greeted by my friend's usual gay humor, "ewww what are you wearing?".
Of course, the rest of the guys were dawdling, and we ended up back at my friend's house. With less pressure to hide, I head for the bathroom mirror, and put on the rest of my face. It was only half complete... with my new interest in upscale makeup, applying makeup had transformed into an art creation, each time.
After some slow driving on the freeway, we get to the Mason St., tenderloin district, club Crash. The event is Crash Fridays, a different theme each Friday, created for the masses, with unmatched parallels, even within it's own crowd scene. We had been somewhat misinformed, at least at the time, that the club was quite empty. We walked up to a line, and we were some 20 feet from the entrance, with a second line forming on the opposite side of the entrance. The promoter walked by, thankfully, and my friend secured our free entrance into the club. And with good timing... they started to make people on the guestlist pay $10 cover to get into the club, since it had passed 11PM.
Lo and behold, we walk into a near empty club, and I'm thoroughly disappointed. The guys walk towards what looked like the door to the men's bathroom, and the guys prompt me to follow. I'm a tad withdrawn because I'm not sure where they were leading me. And as it turns out, they were going downstairs TO the bathrooms, not INTO the men's bathroom. The bathroom is crowded with females all too heavily made up, and for the most part, they looked rather uncomfortable, and well, like they party a little too much. They're all scantily clad, and as it should be, I suppose, they are what makes the clubbing scene.
I have a brief conversation with the man sitting on a stool, and then amble up towards the party, only to find that we would go up to the next floor, where the real party was at. I had no idea that the themes and atmosphere would change so drastically, separated by two flights of stairs was what appeared to be a very small dance area, but was much fuller than the more eclectic floor downstairs. Most of the crowd was here, and just as expected, my company of all guys head towards the bar, and I was bought my first drink - redbull and vodka, by a pimply friend of my friend. I down that, no problem!
My own friend who had come with me was nowhere to be found, I see his head some minutes later, walking behind the girl that he had once liked, and vice versa, and I'm stuck with a bunch of guys who dance seldom, or not at all. I had anticipated it, going to the club with a group of guys who don't dance much or at all, or need company to dance well wasn't what I would think of as a good time, so I was somewhat prepared for the long night.
When my friend finally returns to me, he offers to buy a drink, and so goes my second drink - AMF. After a couple of sips, I realize the drink was almost entirely vodka, way too strong from what I've previously had, and in my college years, I would have downed the drink, no problem, but after some months of sobriety, I was not prepared to have a drunken night out with my group of all guy friends. Instead, I offer my drink to my guy friends, all of which turned my drink away with a curt "c'mon finish it, you bought it!"
After drinking most of the drink, I amble over to my friend waiting for the restroom, and we stand around until the restroom frees. While waiting, an old friend from college walks towards my area, and soon enough I learn of his recent relationship break up, and I randomly decide to change hands with his accompanying friend. After all of the bathroom breaks, my new dance partner and I head for the dance floor to dance. By this time, I had had too much vodka in my system, and was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. Although I don’t need alcohol to dance, my inhibitions completely fall short while intoxicated, and I danced like there was no tomorrow. After some minutes of this, my new friend offers to buy me a drink, and goes my third – grey goose shot.
By the end of the night, I had changed hands fairly frequently. I danced with my friend’s coworker who had accompanied his exgirlfriend to the club, and had brought along another of my friend’s, an exgirlfriend to my other guy friend. I had partnered with the coworker, my own friend that had accompanied me, my friend’s friend, the last guy I dated, and the best time I had was jumping up and down to Kelly Clarkson's "Since you’ve been gone".
During the course of the night, my new friend has asked for my number in order to take me out during the day, I had somehow avoided the question, but by the end of the night, I was intrigued enough to tell him to give me his number. I hand him my phone, and he punches in his number. He's probably the smartest guy I've met by far... I wake up this morning, and see a text from an unfamiliar number. I read it, and it's signed Jon. Memories from the previous night rushed back to me, and I fancy the idea that the guy has somehow gotten my number without my knowing. And sure enough, while punching in his number, he had dialed it, so he got my number as a result, and was thus able to send me a quick text later in the night. And it was subtle enough to not seem desperate and intrusive.
What seemed funny to me was my blacked out memory, or selective memory of the night's events. I had exchanged kisses with both of my friends who had exs at the club, and thoroughly enjoyed the earlier exchange with someone I'm only starting to get to know. I do feel a little ashamed of the fact that I had let my inhibitions go, but at the same time, I'm not regretful enough to completely cut off ties to my friends. I brush them off as though they didn't happen, and move on as any other male would in similar situations.
Equally puzzling would be my interaction with the guy I had previously dated. I was not the one to call it off, I had decided for some time after we started chatting that I needed some time to collect myself, and to get myself into the dating mindset. I was still very much into my independence, my time with friends, and all that jazz, but it seemed as though I was asking for too much me-time, and he couldn't hang. He wanted out. I had pretty much anticipated that if he were able to wait for me for some months, I would eventually come around, but then again, not too many people can sit around while the world passes them, waiting for someone who seems not at all interested. And although he had called it off, and said that he felt all of these things about our incompatibility, he only further contradicted what he later tells me. One minute, he doesn't like emailing me, and finds it difficult to talk to me on the phone, and the next minute, he really looked forward to my emails and found our conversations stimulating.
I knew that despite everything, there would be something there. And sure enough, the entire night, the friend who accompanied me to the club was not the only friend to consciously, and actively watch me. He appeared several times throughout the night, often pulling me away from my new friend for his own benefit. Sometime during the night he whispered that I looked really good that night, and although it was flattering, I had stopped being interested in pursuing a relationship with him, and the comment did not do anything for me. I did not fawn over him, probably as he would have wanted me to, or try to get at him like I had first done under the influence. I was polite.
The most shocking part of the night happened in the car...
Friday, July 6
Jul 6, 2007
I am bored, at work. Maybe it's because I'm just about through with learning the Non Marketplace procedures, I've written up the guidelines for future employees, and my director is so busy he barely has a minute inbetween scheduled meetings... he's so busy that he often has 2-3 meetings scheduled for the same time! Of course, he can only physically be at one, so he decides the minute of the meetings which to attend. I always have the chats with him, and he apologizes profusely for having to make me wait for something more permanent to do, but still... he hasn't the time. Not just yet.
So I go out to lunch for a little longer, and I don't freak out as much when I come back 10-15 minutes later, because I only come back to an empty cubicle with very little work that requires any serious deadlines. At least when I was working the Nonmarket I had those deadlines and the day seemed a lot shorter, but it did feel like a deadend position...
Maybe it was the July 4th Wednesday off, and there's just staggered work days because market closed early... hmmm
Actually I don't quite know how to describe it. Maybe it's a Friday, and trades are just far fewer.....
So I go out to lunch for a little longer, and I don't freak out as much when I come back 10-15 minutes later, because I only come back to an empty cubicle with very little work that requires any serious deadlines. At least when I was working the Nonmarket I had those deadlines and the day seemed a lot shorter, but it did feel like a deadend position...
Maybe it was the July 4th Wednesday off, and there's just staggered work days because market closed early... hmmm
Actually I don't quite know how to describe it. Maybe it's a Friday, and trades are just far fewer.....
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