This year has been horrendous for us on many levels. Work has really slowed down to a crawl, which has had a negative effect on our finances. To put it simply, we're REALLY struggling with money right now! I'm just waiting for tax-time to get here to right the ship, get us in the black again. I feel much more withdrawn because of this, not wanting to socialize much, declining invitations to go out with friends, etc. We can't afford to live as we were before, and i guess that's not such a bad thing. It's teaching us to be more aware of our finances, think a bit before we buy. We're in the same boat as millions of other American's, just trying to tread water until the flood subsides.
I can live with the money situation to a point, but it's really negatively affecting the relationship I have with my wife. i snap at her a lot more about money, feeling a bit of mistrust when it comes to what she does with her money. And I have no proof she's just out there, blowing it on whatever she pleases. I just know I'm struggling to pay the bills "we" racked up, and not feeling like I get any help with this. It bothers me more than I can share with her for some reason; we can't discuss money without it turning into a major argument that I usually start. That's what kills me the most, making her feel like I'm berating her no good reason. She does everything for me. Cooks, shops, cleans, whatever I need she handles it. I couldn't ask for anything more, she just knows how to deal with me.
Feeling unhappy when you share a life with someone is the worst feeling imaginable. I'm not unhappy with her in the least, just unhappy with life in general right now. The more it sink's in, the more irritable I get. The stupidest things set me off right now, and trying to bite my tongue in certain company is getting next to impossible these days. The feeling of wanting to just beat the shit out of somebody because I feel they don't understand the difference between sarcasm, and sarcastic humor is terrible. I'm usually a pretty quiet and laid-back person, an observer more than a participant. I like to people watch; try to figure them out. Even that irritates me right now.
Work is another frustration for me. I feel like I'm completely wasting my ability and expertise in this job, but it is a job, and I'm thankful to have one considering what others are going through these days. I just can't imagine owning my own business, and running it in this manner. No direction and leadership, no plan of attack. Managers who have no business being responsible for anything, let alone a department that generates over a million in sales every year. So I'm taking it upon myself come the new year, to make my own situation better. I do pretty much whatever I like as it is, and have the freedom to make deals with customers in any manner I choose. So I'm choosing to get out once a week from here on out, do a little schmoozing, wheeling and dealing so to speak, to make my situation better. No more waiting for a game plan. I have my own to put in place. Time to make good things happen for myself and my wife. No more waiting for that leadership that will never come. I'll lead myself to prosperity in spite of the lack of support from on high.
2011 was a total loser for so many of us; here's to making 2012 a year to remember. Oh, and one more thing, if you see me coming, and it seems I'm looking right through you, get the fuck out of the way, because I am. Your standing in the way of my objective, and I WILL run you over to reach it!
Monday, December 26, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
No joy in Whooville
I'm not writing this to evoke some sort of sympathy, to get anyone to feel sorry for me, or to bitch and moan about how my life sucks. I just feel the need to say it ou loud, so to speak; get it off of my chest i guess you could say.
I've never been a big fan of Christmas, even as a little kid. I don't think I was in a household that celebrated it until I was six. My mom's family is jewish, and they raised me from the time I was 3 months old. My mom had me, tried to take care of me, I suppose. My grandparents were living in Thousand Oaks at the time, not really sure where we lived (Strange that it's never come up, never thought to ask until now). One day she brings me over to visit, tells them she's going out for a pack of cigarettes, and never comes back. That was the beginning of my ambivalence towards Christmas.
My grandparents were together until I was about four. They didn't get along at all at that point.My grandfather had been quite the womanizer for many years, cheating repeatedly on my grandmother, getting caught, and saying he'd never do it again. She finally got fed up with him, and filed for diverce, but it didn't stop the fighting. I can remember him coming over tho the house(at this time we were liiving in Woodland Hills), hearing the yelling and screaming, coming out of my room to find him just beating the shit out of her. She was on the ground in the foyer of the house, up against the door, bloody and crying hysterically. From what I was told, he was quite a violent man when the right buttons were pushed. He mercilessly beat my mother as well when she was younger. After they were finally divorced, I went to live with him in Oxnard,and much to my surprise, another kid was living in my new home! That year was my first Christmas, and i have no recllection of it at all.
The next Christmas really got the ball rolling on towards my complete and utter disdain for Christmas. That was the first time my mother tried to buy me off; spend a bunch of money and forget the fact that I saw her only a few times that year, even though she lived in the area. A few years later, it was my first stereo, and some Kiss casettes that I really wanted. All the while, I still only saw her a few times a year, but now she would ask if I wanted to live with her. Of course I declined, as she never had a stable place to lived(she seemed to move constantly, always with some dude or another she was "engaged" to at the time).
I just wanted to have the same Chrsitmas everyone else had, a stable family, that excitement of waking up Christmas morning knowing that something under that tree would excite me more that I had ever felt before. Of course, her asinine way of seeing things took that away from me, thinking she could check those things I most wanted off the list, and buying me off for yet another year. By the time I was twelve ot thirteen, I completely hated Christmas morning, and just wanted to stay in bed until the day was over. I would have been so much happier with having a real relationship with her and getting absolutely nothing under my tree. After that, I just kind of shut down and stopped participating all together for the most part. Christmas, and all the joys and traditions that go with it, could kiss my ass!!!
So that brings us to the here and now. I'm married to a fantastic woman, who takes very good care of me. She does have a hard time with this though, as she's lived in a completely different environment growing up. She's absolutely trying as hard as she can to turn this around for me, and I admit it has a definite affect on how I see the holidays now. I've learned to get past what took place years ago, and enjoy the new friends and especially the new family I have now because of her. Her parents really are the best; they've been more than accepting of me, from the first time I met them. Just genuinely great people, with the values I hope to instill in our child one day, when that day comes. Her brothers are great as well, cool people who wouldn't hesitate to help you in any way. My wife has been the best thing to ever happen to me, and I can't imagine never having her in my life. She's giving me all the things I never had growing up; love, attentiveness, caring. All the things a person could ever want on a beautiful Christmas morning, and not a one you could buy in any store.
I've never been a big fan of Christmas, even as a little kid. I don't think I was in a household that celebrated it until I was six. My mom's family is jewish, and they raised me from the time I was 3 months old. My mom had me, tried to take care of me, I suppose. My grandparents were living in Thousand Oaks at the time, not really sure where we lived (Strange that it's never come up, never thought to ask until now). One day she brings me over to visit, tells them she's going out for a pack of cigarettes, and never comes back. That was the beginning of my ambivalence towards Christmas.
My grandparents were together until I was about four. They didn't get along at all at that point.My grandfather had been quite the womanizer for many years, cheating repeatedly on my grandmother, getting caught, and saying he'd never do it again. She finally got fed up with him, and filed for diverce, but it didn't stop the fighting. I can remember him coming over tho the house(at this time we were liiving in Woodland Hills), hearing the yelling and screaming, coming out of my room to find him just beating the shit out of her. She was on the ground in the foyer of the house, up against the door, bloody and crying hysterically. From what I was told, he was quite a violent man when the right buttons were pushed. He mercilessly beat my mother as well when she was younger. After they were finally divorced, I went to live with him in Oxnard,and much to my surprise, another kid was living in my new home! That year was my first Christmas, and i have no recllection of it at all.
The next Christmas really got the ball rolling on towards my complete and utter disdain for Christmas. That was the first time my mother tried to buy me off; spend a bunch of money and forget the fact that I saw her only a few times that year, even though she lived in the area. A few years later, it was my first stereo, and some Kiss casettes that I really wanted. All the while, I still only saw her a few times a year, but now she would ask if I wanted to live with her. Of course I declined, as she never had a stable place to lived(she seemed to move constantly, always with some dude or another she was "engaged" to at the time).
I just wanted to have the same Chrsitmas everyone else had, a stable family, that excitement of waking up Christmas morning knowing that something under that tree would excite me more that I had ever felt before. Of course, her asinine way of seeing things took that away from me, thinking she could check those things I most wanted off the list, and buying me off for yet another year. By the time I was twelve ot thirteen, I completely hated Christmas morning, and just wanted to stay in bed until the day was over. I would have been so much happier with having a real relationship with her and getting absolutely nothing under my tree. After that, I just kind of shut down and stopped participating all together for the most part. Christmas, and all the joys and traditions that go with it, could kiss my ass!!!
So that brings us to the here and now. I'm married to a fantastic woman, who takes very good care of me. She does have a hard time with this though, as she's lived in a completely different environment growing up. She's absolutely trying as hard as she can to turn this around for me, and I admit it has a definite affect on how I see the holidays now. I've learned to get past what took place years ago, and enjoy the new friends and especially the new family I have now because of her. Her parents really are the best; they've been more than accepting of me, from the first time I met them. Just genuinely great people, with the values I hope to instill in our child one day, when that day comes. Her brothers are great as well, cool people who wouldn't hesitate to help you in any way. My wife has been the best thing to ever happen to me, and I can't imagine never having her in my life. She's giving me all the things I never had growing up; love, attentiveness, caring. All the things a person could ever want on a beautiful Christmas morning, and not a one you could buy in any store.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
From special event to money grab
When I was a kid, right up to my 30's maybe, The Wizard of Oz was an annual rite for me. It was showed once, and only once a year. I admit it, I looked forward to it. It was special, something I shared with my grandmother when g I was younger. You looked forward to it every year, and got excited the closer it got. You couldn't even buy it on VHS, or later DVD. The only chance to see it was that one time a year. Then, all of the sudden, someone obviously realized that a ton of money could be made by releasing it to video, and subsequently showing it on t.v. Now, it seems its on constantly, so much so that we'll turn it on, only to get bored and change the channel. Yet another thing from my childhood that actually meant something to me ruined in the name of the almighty buck!
Friday, December 16, 2011
The Greatest Generation
The Greatest Generation, a tagline we've seen recently in articles and on shows discussing the 70th anniversary of the bombing of pearl harbor. What makes this generation the greatest, greater than mine or yours? I've thought about this for quite some time, wondering how it's defined as such. Members of that generation fought the greatest war, invented the greatest gadgets, built the greatest country. They created the very world we live in today on many levels. They made the ultimate sacrifices, think about that. Brought into a war they didn't start, men and women joined our armed forces without hesitation, looking to fight for our honor as a country. but that's not the only sacrifices they made. They changed the very way they lived their lives, to ensure the "boys over there" had every resource necessary to fight, and win a war against everything we stood against.
Rationing food and fuel, metals and rubber, and never complaining, never questioning the of the few over the needs of the many. Ballplayers left in their prime to defend our country, not needing to think twice about it. Ted Williams would have been considered the greatest baseball player of all time, but instead chose to fight, losing the 4 best years of his career. He didn't give a damn, and would tell you so without hesitation. My grandparents did their part, as yours probably did as well. My grandfather was 4f, so he to work in the shipyards in NYC. My grandmother volunteered time at one of those places GI's could go to dance and try to have a good time while on leave, or waiting to ship out. My uncle Milton was with the Flying Tigers in China, a cousin in Europe, and many others fighting across either pond. I also had family interred in concentration camps in Germany and Poland.
I think about this generation because of a painting I have in the closest of our office at home. My grandmothers' cousin was a resident of one of those camps, surviving only because of his notoriety as an artist in Europe. Turns out the Nazi's were quite the art lover's, giving them some sense of culture or sophistication. Bullshit if you ask me, nothing more than common thieves, among other obvious things. Anyways, this cousin's name was Sam Markitante, a well-known painter and sculptor in France before the war. He managed to get picked up by the Nazi's and sent to a camp with the rest of his family, for no other reason than his religion(or race,depending on how you look at it.).
The story goes that he was at this camp, waiting for extermination, when Goebbels himself, pulled him out, after recognizing his name. He was sent to a chateau to paint and sculpt for the duration of the war, leaving his family behind to the whims of the Nazi machine. I always wondered what went through his head, as his life was spared while his family faced a tortuous death. Was it self-preservation, or a sacrifice for the greater good? Could I have done the same thing? I'll never know, we live in a different world now. He eventually made it out after the war, and made his way here to live out his life teaching art. Even taught my grandmother to paint. That painting sits in my closet, posing that question to me every time I see it. Could I make the same choice?
Probably not, as I'm not from the greatest generation.
Rationing food and fuel, metals and rubber, and never complaining, never questioning the of the few over the needs of the many. Ballplayers left in their prime to defend our country, not needing to think twice about it. Ted Williams would have been considered the greatest baseball player of all time, but instead chose to fight, losing the 4 best years of his career. He didn't give a damn, and would tell you so without hesitation. My grandparents did their part, as yours probably did as well. My grandfather was 4f, so he to work in the shipyards in NYC. My grandmother volunteered time at one of those places GI's could go to dance and try to have a good time while on leave, or waiting to ship out. My uncle Milton was with the Flying Tigers in China, a cousin in Europe, and many others fighting across either pond. I also had family interred in concentration camps in Germany and Poland.
I think about this generation because of a painting I have in the closest of our office at home. My grandmothers' cousin was a resident of one of those camps, surviving only because of his notoriety as an artist in Europe. Turns out the Nazi's were quite the art lover's, giving them some sense of culture or sophistication. Bullshit if you ask me, nothing more than common thieves, among other obvious things. Anyways, this cousin's name was Sam Markitante, a well-known painter and sculptor in France before the war. He managed to get picked up by the Nazi's and sent to a camp with the rest of his family, for no other reason than his religion(or race,depending on how you look at it.).
The story goes that he was at this camp, waiting for extermination, when Goebbels himself, pulled him out, after recognizing his name. He was sent to a chateau to paint and sculpt for the duration of the war, leaving his family behind to the whims of the Nazi machine. I always wondered what went through his head, as his life was spared while his family faced a tortuous death. Was it self-preservation, or a sacrifice for the greater good? Could I have done the same thing? I'll never know, we live in a different world now. He eventually made it out after the war, and made his way here to live out his life teaching art. Even taught my grandmother to paint. That painting sits in my closet, posing that question to me every time I see it. Could I make the same choice?
Probably not, as I'm not from the greatest generation.
Why I'm here
I created this blog to express my opinions on certain subjects that move, or interest me. Things that compel my to think, evoke emotion of some kind or another. My mind tends to operate much differently than most people who know me would assume; I have a hard time these days vocally expressing myself for some reason, like my brain and mouth are no longer close, just mildly acquainted. So, i have this need to "vent", release the pressure I feel inside me. Hopefully those very few of you who come here to see what's on my mind will get a better understanding of who I am, what I believe in, and how I work. Maybe get a laugh or two as well.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)