Friday, March 23, 2007

You give Rocky a bad name

The other night I happened to catch an episode of Survivor Fiji in which one of the players is referred to as Rocky--I assume because of a slight resemblance to the illustrious Sylvester Stallone character.

Let me assure you, this is where any similarity ends. As the episode unfolded I became increasingly dismayed, which I think would go as far as leaving a bad aftertaste in the mouth of any Rocky fan.

Survivor Fiji "Rocky" pushes around tribe members he considers weaker, is obnoxious, lazy, and makes comments like, "No offense, I love women. But in this type of environment, this type of game, you don't need any stupid girl stories or distractions or anything stupid like that."

Now consider the story behind Rocky. It's really about about two things: love and a metaphor for how many times a person can get knocked down but keep moving forward. In Rocky III, Rocky takes Adrian all over hell with him--he's training in the slums of LA, he's got Adrian at his side; he's having a melt down on the beach, it's his wife who helps him work through it. When Rocky bails out his no-good brother in-law Paulie, who's angry at his lack of success, Rocky takes it in stride and invariably gives him a job. He doesn't try and teach him a lesson by belittling or shaming him.

So for this clown to refer to himself as "Rocky" (self appointed or not) and act like a jackass is quite disrespectful to the character that is Rocky. True Rocky fans enjoy the character and series because of what they represent: a triumph of spirit and will. I wonder if Survivor "Rocky" has ever seen the bloody movies?

I suppose I am to chalk yet another thing up to "missing the point".

By the way, Rocky enthusiasts will be happy to note that although the Rocky figurine may be difficult to find, they can get the meat fairly easily (seriously, you can buy the "meat" figurine from Rocky). It doesn't get better than this, people.

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

What the hell?!

Seriously. If Mother Nature were a person, I'd phone her up and ask.

I know it's March, and I know all about the "in like a lamb..." thing, but enough is enough. There was a solid foot of snow on my car this morning! I paid for parking at work because I couldn't be bothered to walk through it...sigh. I'm ready for Spring. Oh, yes, I know it can be beautiful (but c'mon). My appreciation doesn't last beyond looking out the window.


Well, I've booked a moving van, people. March 31st I am out of my parent's and into Robert's. : D I'm rather excited! Although I'm often nervous he may have second thoughts, I've determined if he has, he can tell me so I can stop asking.

As a bit of background: the ex backed out of moving back in together three times over the space of two years, making my anxiety understandable and even expected. Yippee. It's become difficult not to expect the bottom to fall out at the last minute, to say the least. It was a June 19 when I got the "I want a divorce" phone call (yes, by phone, even)--11 days before we were to move in for the last time, and a day before we were to go out of town to celebrate our wedding anniversary (the actual day he spent in Vegas at a stag, only to later ditch the wedding reception to go drink with buddies).

Say it with me, "Jackass." No wonder I have issues. I'm surprised I've even entertained dating another man, never mind moving in with one!

What can I say? Rob is worth the risk.

Monday, March 12, 2007


Defined as: distress or uneasiness of mind caused by fear of danger or misfortune.

It's lame to begin writing with a definition (or rather very cliched). However, I'm dogged by this emotion and I wish people had a better understanding of what anxiety is and how much it can control you.

Scene one: My eyes flicker open. Daylight is streaming happily through my window, but as I take mental note of my various aches and pains, I notice a heaviness has settled in my mind. Frayed images cause an uneasiness I cannot put my finger on. My heart beat accelerates as my mind rushes to and fro in search of the origin of this feeling. I find nothing, but have awakened in a state of anxiety.

Scene two: A familiar thought crosses my mind, "Am I being lied to? Can I trust my perception?" I know now not to ask friends or family to ease my fears, but I don't know what I should be telling myself to ease this panic which has my stomach clenched in unknown anticipation. My breathing is shallow and I struggle to ease the tension now building in my shoulders and neck. My eyes nervously cast about my surroundings, looking for something comforting, familiar, but I find nothing except my anxiety.

I've been told I have a sensitive nervous system. Fantastic. That I should simply go for a ten minute walk when I feel it coming on. Right.

Where I have found some relief is in the form of my latest read, "From panic to power". I highly recommend this to anyone who suffers from even mild anxiety or simply wants to combat the odd anxious thought, which can clearly be avoided.

To say everything begins and ends in the mind sounds trite and oversimplified, but is absolutely true. Any time you find yourself in a bad mood, it's in direct relation to a thought you've had. Any time you feel you're in a state of agitation, if you go back throughout your thoughts, you'll find out what has pushed you there.

The key is in beginning to recognize the toxic thoughts you allow in, and making a conscious effort to not only stop them, but actually talk back to them. Nothing can upset you without your permission.

My biggest breakthrough in tackling my anxiety happened when I shifted from the paradigm of "I feel", to "I think". You cannot control your feelings, but as soon as you control your thoughts, your feelings change.

: )

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

My happy place

This is where I need to be.

As opposed to PeopleSoft hell (the software recently installed at work--with minimal training provided, and clearly user tested by a flock of seagulls). Mah! And I quote, "I hate it with the white heat of a thousand suns." This software is the least userfriendly, most non-intuitive shit I've ever used, to put it mildly.

If you put "I hate peoplesoft" into Google, it's interesting what comes up (kind of like smelling crap and looking down to find it on your shoe, interesting). : ) I suppose I should find some comfort in that I'm not the only one who despises peoplesoft, but I don't.

PeopleSoft is seriously compromising my job satisfaction.

Van Morrison says, "there'll be days like this." Sigh.

If it wasn't for concentrated sugar products, chocolate, and Rob--I don't know where I'd be. Okay, that's rather dramatic, I'm also quite blessed with fabulous friends and family (thank God), and they make a world of difference, as well.

Happy place, happy place...

Thursday, March 01, 2007

Van the Man comes through!

For me, anyway.

I have sympathy for the Brown Eyed Girl crowd (who may not be true Van Morrison fans), as the concert certainly wasn't geared towards you. What I mean by this is, I love Van Morrison's voice, not simply the odd hit single. : ) My concern prior to the concert was his voice might have significantly deteriorated with age, or might substantially differ from recorded. My fear was unnecessary; his voice rang true and clear for me. There were moments I closed my eyes and just listened--that's how much I love Van Morrison.
I was thrilled to simply hear the voice I fell in love with.

Some of my friends were quite disappointed with the concert (even angry), and I can't help but wonder how much of a fan they were to begin with (no criticism). What I heard from Van Morrison was exactly what I wanted and expected to hear. I could have cared less if Brown Eyed Girl was played, and yet found myself liking it for probably the first time when it was performed. Going into the concert, I knew Van wouldn't be a showman and there wouldn't be any bells or whistles (or even interaction with the audience, as a previous review indicated), so my expectations were in check.

Van Morrison was wonderful. The band was fantastic, and the only thing I would have done differently would be to hold out for better seats (the show actually would have been much better in a smaller venue as it seemed designed for an intimate setting). As for the cost of the tickets, they were expensive, but I believe Jerry Seinfeld tickets cost me more, and he may have performed for the same amount of time or less. It's all relative. A few years back, I was checking Van Morrison concert prices for New York, and they were over $300 a person, so I wasn't surprised the tickets cost as much as they did here.
My money was certainly well spent, and now I can happily scratch seeing Van off my "To Do Before I Die" list. : )