Won't You Be My Neighbour

Once I left the nest I found that I've always lived in apartment buildings - either as a renter or an owner.

When I threw the lamest party ever a while back I slipped notes under the doors of those around and above me, both inviting them to be party and barring that, insisting that they let me know if it disturbed them in any way. Since I am an 80 year-old in disguise the party ended relatively early with apparently no offense given. Sans neighbourly attendance.

I've occasionally found the need to communicate with the person above me. Maybe I gave him a wee little scratch in his car. Maybe his washer was leaking through the floor (and my roof). Maybe he had some annoying thumping machine going off at all hours and keeping me awake. (Or maybe not. Curious that.)

My former neighbours across the hall had a perfectly enchanting cat named Dixie who liked to visit. She seems to view my condo as hers. Her humans were pleasant enough but Dixie really got me you know?

But that? Is the totality of my interactions with my neighbours. I've been in this condo for four years now and scarcely know more than the first name of the woman who lives across the hall from me.

(Interesting aside: I totally knew that the person above me was a single guy living alone. I could just tell by the way he stomped walked above me. Some of my male friends didn't believe me until I asked the building manager. I felt almost psychic-like when it turned out I was right)

I don't understand how people do it. When I had a roommate for a few months the summer of 2007, he knew the name and story of the woman who lived across the courtyard from us. When he left he gave her all his plants (cause Lord knows they would have commit suicide like all the other plants I've loved before if left in my care for more than a few days).

My Dear Anon? Couldn't take my call the other day because she was at her neighbour's place checking out their reno's. She's lived in her place less than half the time that I've lived in my condo. Last summer, not only did she have me baking cookies for a different neighbour with her, she also brought me along to yet another neighbour's for a BBQ.

My Person? Frequently goes for dinner with her ex-neighbours. Even I miss them, they were so fantastic. K? Goes away for weekends with her husband and former neighbours.

I don't get it. How do they do it???? Do you knock on the door and ask to borrow a cup of sugar? I have never been friends with any of the people who live around me.

Explain this to me my lovelies. Are you friends with your neighbours? How did you start talking to them? Are you all Wisteria Lane-like involved with each other?

Do you think it's super weird if I bake cookies and know on everyone's doors with my offering as and opening (albeit late) attempt at friendliness?

I mean what if I die??? It would be nice if someone notice. Before the stench got all obvious....

xo

Poke Me With a Spoon

**Make all your posts happy - no one wants to read depressing sh*t.
Don't just regurgitate what you did all day, no one wants to read mundane sh*t.
Add a photo to your blog posts, people like that.
Why don't you ask a question at the end of each post? It encourages people to comment.
Don't write about your dreams, that sh*t gets on my nerves.
Don't ask people questions when you could easily just google it.
Don't tweet when you have a new post, that's annoying sh*t.
Don't post or tag people for memes - that sh*t is annoying.
If you don't have a feedreader icon in the top right of your blog, I'm not going to subscribe to your sh*t.

So you may have noticed that I took a few weeks off. And I locked down the blog in the process. Symbolic? Perhaps. Melodramatic? More likely.

And I mentally composed varying versions of the same post over and over again. Each with the same title: "Stick a fork in me." (Clever, no?)

And then I got emails. And texts. And DM's. And Phone calls. And more texts. It seems that a few people out there actually liked my words.

You see I felt like I had already put too much out here. This blog has lost me friends. It almost got me sued (in the I actually received correspondence from a lawyer sense). And I was starting to think it wasn't worth it. I mean really - this blog kind of sucks anyhow right? It's not like I'm saving the world or anything talking about my crap.

And the thing is, right now? I'm sad. For no good reason that I can see at all. I have a job, a home, friends, family, health. Everything else is unimportant in comparison.

And for all the ways that I misrepresent myself as a flaky, girly princess- the fact is - I get most things. I get that I just need to examine, diagnose and treat my unhappiness. I get that I am the owner of my life, and if something needs to change, I should just change it. No one can do that for me. I get that the world is a sucky place sometimes- but I also get that no one owes me a damn thing.

I get it.

But I'm sad. And I've been sad for a long time. And that? I don't get.

What I did know, was that I didn't want to write yet another post about how depressed I am. How I don't see the point in life. And how, boo hoo, I was potentially slightly abused as a child.

Seriously Princess? Walk it off.

So I took a break. Considered a plethora of options.
- Shutting this down until I was less whiny.
- Starting up a new, shiny, more positive blog.

But the problem is me. Not the blog. (Although I may be moving over to wordpress soon- stay tuned) I missed the writing and interaction the past few weeks. And starting over? Yeah, like I'd be less whiny there.

So here you have it. A new post and relatively little change. (Perhaps I just lack conviction?)

But no more lock-out.

Thanks for all of your messages though. They have meant the world and a half to me. It's so nice to know that at least a few people out there enjoy my words....

**Advice I've been given about blogging at one time or other. As if it's possible to blog without breaking at least some of these rules!

On hiatus.

I can still be contacted at:
violetidell@shaw.ca

I'll still be reading...
xo

This and That

* Blogger has scheduled an outage for 2AM on Wednesday. That is a normal time to do site maintenance. I'm not as huge a twitterer as some, but oddly last week, I had something I needed to check on there and it was MOST inconvenient that they decided to do maintenance from 2PM - 5PM. What were they thinking exactly?

* Yesterday was Mother's Day. I don't always acknowledge my Step-Mom, but since I actually saw her yesterday, it seemed appropriate to buy her a card. Mother's Day as a rule doesn't really affect me much (most years I forget about it until I see all the advertising that week). But this year it was kind of sad for me. Sometimes my adopted Moms just aren't enough and I really wish that I had someone to cuddle up and cry or laugh with.

* Saw Wolverine with My Dear Anon on Saturday. I liked it, but I kind of left unsatisfied. I was surprised when I looked at the time and realized how short the movie was. Sometimes, Hugh and Ryan without a shirt just isn't enough. I wanted...more...

* Got together with the family this weekend and pooled together all our Disney photos. I have close to 200 photos on a DVD now. I need to sort out which ones make the cut for printing- I want to get a collage from and put it up...somewhere...

* The photos made me a bit sad too. (Self indulgent point here). I really have let myself go in the past few years. I hated all the photos of myself. I really need to sort out some sort of losing weight regime. If I'm at the point where I don't even want to go out anymore, cause I feel fat and ugly? Well then there's a problem.

* Friday was the finale of Dollhouse. I liked the show. But I won't be surprised if they cancel it. I was impressed with how they did the finale- it tied up loose ends, so the series could end, but left enough open that it could also pick up again next season.

* This Thursday is the one year anniversary of the day I left my last job. That probably means that it's time for me to move on. I so wish that I could speak with my old boss just once. I don't think she understands, and I would really like to make peace with her. That and the fact that I really would like to know how she's doing. But those are my issues, and I don't have the right to thrust them onto her. It sucks when you're over something, and then suddenly that something shows up and forces you to address it again - probably best if I just schedule my own therapy sessions for this.

* I haven't been sleeping well. To the point where I've actually considered phoning the Disney resort where I stayed and asking them what kind of mattresses they use. That was the last time I got a decent night's sleep. Although it's probable that the sleep was more due to the fact that I was on holiday than any magical properties in the bed.

Have a great week lovies!
xo

Entitled

I got my first job when I was 16 and stayed for 10 years. That's so uncommon nowadays as to actually be noteworthy. Especially at that age. The job actually sucked a lot. Some days I would work a 4 hour shift. Some days I would work 13 hours with no break. I was surrounded by angry addicts who were abusive and childish, and for the most part stupid.

I graduated from university at 23 with an honours degree. The day I convocated I knew that the easy part was over. The work? Was just beginning. I knew that having a degree meant so little as to make it almost meaningless. Yet I was proud. Proud of the thesis and proud of those letters after my name. I'd given up years of social activities and sleeping in and being fun and now I had something to show for it: a shiny piece of paper.

That was 11 years ago.

From there I continued on with the sucky job and went looking for another. Something that actually related to my degree, even in a small way. I knew that I was young. I knew that I had little experience. I knew that the knowledge I had was theoretical. But I was willing to learn more. I was willing to pay my dues. I was willing to work.

But now? Well, as much as it pains me to say it, but what is it with the younger generation? Where does this sense of entitlement, petulance and (dare I say it?) laziness come from? The world? Doesn't owe anyone a damn thing. Least of all you, little one.

It seems that colleges and schools now are so intent on building students up, that all they do is instill a sense of non-reality into them. What happened to the work ethic and the knowledge that you have to start at the bottom before you can get to the top?

You have to work. Those 13 hour shifts? Yes, I rubbed my eyes raw because they were so sore and tired. Yes, I snapped at people because it's hard to stay cheerful. Yes, I made mistakes because I wasn't functioning properly after so many days of that. But it was all to a purpose. Even that crappy job taught me skills. Everywhere you go is an opportunity to learn something.

And most of the time? In any job? As well-intentioned as you are, and as much as you might want to set the world on fire with your creativity and brilliance- you're not going to. Not most of the time anyhow. 99% of the time, your idea has already been had, and implemented. Or your idea just isn't going to work.

But that 1% ? Those times when your idea is fabulous? When the world is legitimately aflame? That's what you're striving for. It's what makes it all worthwhile. It's what makes all the eye rubbing, and 13 hour days and mundane-ness meaningful.

But it has to be earned. Own that mundanity. Treasure it. Cherish it.

Love the fact that you're at the bottom and people are giving you crap. The crap? Will teach you. And so will the slightly harder crap after that. And the harder crap after that. And suddenly? It's not crap anymore. It's projects, and output, and teams, and something shiny that is impressive.

But children? The shiny? It takes time to get there.

I know that your instructors told you that with your degree/diploma/certificate you should be earning $50K right from go, with a corner office and an expense account and a company car. But where's the sense of accomplishment if you're handed that right from go? Trust me, it's a lot more satisfying if you've earned it. And no. Reading a book and writing a few tests and essays is not the earning. That's what gets you in the door.

To earn? You have to do.

And kidlets? Whatever you think you're going to get paid out of college/university/school? Trust me. You won't get that. Because very rarely does it happen that we actually get what we deserve in life. And you? Don't even deserve it. Yet. You will. If you work. Trust.

And scene.