Wednesday, April 9, 2014

I Hate Moving

So, to recap the title: I hate moving. Moving sucks. You know what else sucks? Packing. Packing sucks. T-minus two weeks til moving, and guess who hasn't started to pack? Yeah. This girl. So how about we procrastinate with a list of what I'm doing lately?

1. New Books To Read:
- The Good Nurse
- The Violinist's Thumb
- The River of Doubt
- The Fault In Our Stars

2. Movies To See:
- The Grand Budapest Hotel (check and mark!)
- The Hobbit
- The Other Hobbit That Isn't The First One
-  Gravity
- American Hustle
- All Is Lost

3. Moving

4. Procrastinating

5. Packing

6. Procrastinating

7. Bacon Jam
(This is an actual thing that I'm making this week! It's jam! But with bacon! BACON!)

8. Miley Cyrus
I quite literally cannot and will not stop singing along with Miley. (Sing-a-long-aMiley?) This is clearly exactly what my choir teacher envisioned when she said I'd go far with a voice like this...

9. Lego LotR and Lego Indiana Jones video games
If I have to explain why, you're an awful person who deserves shaming.

10. Taxes
FML. No, really. FML.

So there you have it: what the Soctopus is up to. Exciting, scintillating, a little bit debased...or none of those things at all. I'll let you decide while I eat a bacon jam and cheese sandwich.


Monday, March 3, 2014

An Ode to Dragon

There are red lipsticks, and then there are red lipsticks. As every girl who wears red lipsticks knows, there is always one red that stands above the rest. Revlon Cherries In The Snow. A good, cherry-tinged, classic red. MAC Ruby Woo and Russian Red. And, last but not least, Chanel Dragon.

Dragon is, lamentably, discontinued. It came to us in two different incarnations, InfraRouge and Rouge Allure Laque. InfraRouge was a creamy, semi-matte lipstick, while Rouge Allure Laque was a long-lasting full-coverage stain/gloss. The lipstick version came first, and was EPIC. It was a true, darker blue-red, with subtle red-on-red shimmer. This lipstick changed my life. I wore it in high school, almost daily. I got married in Dragon. This color was my holy grail. And then Chanel discontinued it. For no reason. Dragon was a cult favorite from the day it was launched. It was a huge seller, and consistently sold out at cosmetics counters. But Chanel discontinued Dragon none the less, and for years, I lived a washed-out, Dragon-less life.

Then, suddenly, Chanel released a new product, Rouge Allure Laque, and, lo and behold, one of the shades was named "Dragon." Could it be? Was it the same Dragon I loved and lost? A quick run to Nordstrom confirmed that, yes, the formula was different, but the red was indeed Dragon!

I, however, only discovered the re-emergence of Dragon after Chanel had already discontinued it. So I went on a search across Washington and California, looking for the impossible dream: one last tube of Dragon that had, somehow, been passed over. (*Insert montage of storefronts passing by in the rain*) Dragon was nowhere to be found, as everyone else had already purchased the last few tubes. And back-ups. Finally, on vacation in San Diego, in Nordstrom, I found one tube of Dragon that another woman had on hold. The LAST tube of Dragon. And I convinced the Chanel clerk to sell that tube to me.

The end of this epic saga is that I own one last, coveted tube of Dragon, which I almost never wear. That blurry picture up top showcases the magic that is Dragon. Red. Slightly shimmery. Heavy. Sexy. It is, and will always be the best red. Until Chanel brings it back, AGAIN. (Note to Chanel: please do this...I will pay *almost* anything. Love, the Soctopus)

Thursday, February 27, 2014

An Interesting Question

So. The Soctopus had an interesting conversation today with a gentleman who had some things to say about tattoos in general, and women with tattoos in particular. Very interesting. The conversation raised a question I will put to you, internets, and I want your opinions and answers. Comments welcome, y'all.

What the conversation boiled down to was this gentleman's opinion that women with tattoos, particularly "sleeves" or heavy, serious ink, are somehow differentiating themselves as less educated, less attractive, and "loose." His opinion was that women with tattoos show poor judgement and a lack of self-respect. I countered his argument, using myself as an example: educated, graduated with honors, hold a management position in my chosen profession, and -ahem- attractive. He agreed that there are exceptions to his rules, but stood by his statements. The discussion was civil, but raised a lot of questions, first and foremost: is it discrimination to judge someone by their body art?

The obvious answer (and my gut-reaction) is "HELL YES!" If you judge me based on my tattoos, you are judging me based on my appearance, and making decisions about my character. This is, as we all can agree, inherently wrong-headed. However, the quandary is this: I am being judged based on a facet of my appearance that I chose to modify, which sets tattoo-based discrimination into a strange and unique category. The question I have is this: can it be considered discrimination when the judgement is made on an optional modification in appearance? In other words, I *chose* to be tattooed, and had complete control over it. I opted to modify my body in a permanent and visible way. Does that render me open to outside opinions and judgement, again, based solely on a facet of my appearance?

It's an interesting question, and one I've been thinking about. I welcome any and all comments and opinions, and am curious to see what you, faceless internet, think. My personal opinion is that most negative opinions around tattooed people have their roots in ignorance and bias, as well as long-held cultural stereotypes about people with tattoos. I believe it's time to judge someone based on their character more than their skin color (or colors, for those with body art). But then, I am someone with tattoos. So come on, internet! Let's have a discussion!


Sunday, February 23, 2014

Yeeeeouch!

I did a thing! With needles!
(Spoiler alert: it fucking hurt.)

Why horseshoes? I've been feeling lucky lately, so why not make that luck permanent? But the big news is that these are the first tattoos I really have to hide at work, meaning long sleeves at work all year round. The flip side of that coin is that if I have to cover my arms for work now anyways, then sleeves aren't out of the question anymore. As a matter of fact, sleeves are now planned, with the artist thinking of designs. So that's coming, and I am excite.

(Spoiler alert #2: 3.5 hours is a looong time to sit still for needles. Maybe a bit too long.)

(Spoiler alert #3: yes, Dad said he was very disappointed in me. Again. Or still. I can't keep up.)

Saturday, February 22, 2014

Emotional Trainwrecks Beware...

Oh, hey, internet! I missed you! But the Soctopus is back, again. Last time we spoke, I mentioned re-entering the dating pool and promised a few tales of woe and misfortune. Whelp. Here you go:

So a ways back, I met a lovely man. Just a peach. Handsome. Funny. Smart. And, unfortunately, broken. (Dear Other Women: STOP IT.) The Soctopus liked this gentleman very much, but it became clear very quickly that he had a steamer trunk full of baggage and issues, and had undershot how deeply those same issues ran. (Way to piss off the Soctopus #1-10: sugarcoat your bullshit.) So the issue at hand quickly became "how much do you like him vs. how much do you hate dealing with other people's crap?"

The Soctopus did the hard thing and broke off contact, in a mature way. But, damn, it was hard, because the 'Pus really liked this gentleman, warts and all. Then there was reconnection, and more emotional trainwrecks occurred. And the Soctopus started to realize that this lovely, handsome, funny man was beyond repair. (And the Soctopus does not run a repair shop.)

One thing became rapidly clear, as the Soctopus watched this man suffer through an emotional morass in his personal life: he was not in control of his emotions. And the Soctopus doesn't like overly emotional men. AT ALL. So yesterday, after months of hearing every single friend tell her how hopeless and beyond help this man was, the Soctopus saw it for herself. And realized that it was true: this lovely gentleman was utterly, completely broken, and was not in the market for repairs.

The Soctopus also realized that she really has no patience for "sensitive," "emo" people in general, particularly men, particularly men she would like to spend time with. The least attractive thing you can be, in the eyes of the 'Pus, is overly emotional and needy. *shudder* Last night, over a long conversation with the 'Pus' oldest and dearest male friend, he said, somewhat humorously, "We tough guys ruined you for sensitive men with feelings, didn't we? Whoops." He wasn't wrong. The Soctopus is emotionally tough, and bossy, and in charge of her life and feelings, which means that any man that wants to enter my life has to be even stronger in order to have my respect.

So what did the lovely gentleman do wrong? Exactly that - he lost my respect. And once that is gone, it's not going to be re-earned easily, if at all. Telling me you're emotionally lost, and then wallowing in it? Not attractive. Telling me you're in a terrible place where your partner treated you like crap, and then waffling over that same person and place? You just told me you're weak, and enjoy being a victim. Two more things the Soctopus has neither patience nor respect for.

So the end result is that the Soctopus realized, finally, that no amount of patience would be enough, that this lovely gentleman was broken and wouldn't (couldn't) fix himself, and she walked away. Lovely gentleman, you truly are a nice, funny, handsome guy, but the Soctopus can't wait for you to wade through your own crap. And wallowing in your own emotional misery is pretty much the fastest way to make the Soctopus run the other direction. At the end of the day, the Soctopus really needs to be with someone who has room in their head and heart to make her the priority, not someone who needs the Soctopus to make themselves feel OK.

Surprise of the day: the Soctopus feels pretty damn good about the whole thing. Now bring on the tough guys, the 'Pus is ready!

Monday, December 9, 2013

The Soctopus Has 8 Arms For Bloggin'

Oh, HAI, interwebs! It's been awhile! The 'Pus just thought she'd drop by and catch you all up. What's happenin', internet peeps?

Where to begin...well, the Soctopus is doing pretty damn good for herself these days. Lean and mean, and back in business.
Heart-whole, and as snarky as ever. Possibly snarkier. Definitely. OK, I'm snarkier. I moved to my favorite neighborhood and am now a die-hard Ballard Soctopus. The 'Pus has also dipped her tentacles back in the dating pool. You all know what that means - SO MANY EPIC TALES OF SHENANIGANS. So, you know - stay tuned. Because that's definitely coming.

New friends have joined the old, and every single person makes me happy. No drama, no fuss, just a whole lot of fun and love. Mind you, it's not all wine and roses and tentacles. The Soctopus still makes hard decisions, but the difference is that there is peace in those choices. Maturity - it's a thing. So I'll end this quick welcome-back post with a happy thought: growing up is actually quite fun. I quite like the Soctopus I've become.

Sunday, July 14, 2013

A Hard Day's Night

So the Soctopus spent last night with her very best friend and her husband. The kind of friend that knows all of your bad sides and weaknesses and loves you anyways. The kind of friend that you can always, always show your true self. This friend has been in my life for 7 years, and we've made each other laugh, held each others' hands, and been there for each other through thick and thin.

Why am I telling you this? Because last night, for the first time, I sat and talked with someone who truly, deeply knows me. *Me.* The *me* I am when I am at my most private and raw. And she stayed up with me until 2:30 a.m. and listened when, for the first time, I broke down and cried. And then cried some more. And it felt like my heart cracked open and so much emotion and poison flooded out. My friend simply sat and listened, and asked questions from time to time. It was painful and purifying, and for the first time, I sat and thought about how *I* feel, and honestly talked out loud about how I feel, in the wake of everything that has happened in my life.

There is a feeling that comes when a person feels so broken, so deeply alone... That feeling is indescribable. It's big, and scary, and raw, and it makes you question everything you know about yourself. Somehow, that one person you feel safe with can help to let that feeling out. (Almost like lancing a boil. I'll have to let her know I compared her to a boil. She'll love that...) During our conversation, my friend kept at me, asking me over and over again, "no, but how do you feel?" And finally, finally, I felt safe enough to admit how I really feel about the changes that have happened. About the tough choices I've had to make. I admitted to her that I still feel guilt over calling the police, even though I know it was the right thing to do. I admitted that I hurt everyday over the loss of my friends and my social life. I admitted that, late at night, I think about Mr. Soctopus and have a dream.

In this dream, Mr. Soctopus and I sit and talk. We talk about our relationship, and what went wrong, and we both admit fault. At the end of this dream, Mr. Soctopus apologizes. Not for leaving me. There's no apology necessary for that. No, in this dream, Mr. Soctopus always apologizes for the hurts he's dealt me. He apologizes for threatening my life, and means it. He apologizes for threatening my friends, and isolating me, and slandering me in public. He simply looks me in the eye and tells me, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you." And then I wake up.

So my friend asked me, "Well - what would you say to him if this happened?" And I was silent for several minutes, thinking and feeling. My answer? "I forgive you." That was the moment that the floodgates opened, and I started to cry. I'm crying right now, as I type this. Because my dream, my fondest wish would simply be to hear my husband apologize and let me know that he acknowledges the wrongs he has done. And I think the reason why I dream this dream, over and over again, is because it would mean the man I married is still somewhere inside of Mr. Soctopus. It would mean that he is not all bad, or evil. Because I want that man to fight his way back. I don't want to accept that this terrible person - this man I don't even recognize - is all that is left of the man I married. The man I loved. I want Mr. Soctopus to be happy. I wish him no ill will, even after everything that has been said and done. And I know, to the bottom of my heart, that Mr. Soctopus cannot be happy, cannot find peace until he lets go of this anger, this rage that seems to be driving him.

What brought all of this on? More of the same. More veiled threats to my friends, simply because they stood up for me, or refused to stop being my friend because he said so. More erratic behavior, which lead a friend to warn me to be careful, to watch my back. While I was in the North counties, enjoying the sunshine with my best friend, the 90-day deadline for the divorce came and went. So this misguided, needless fight continues, and we now roll towards trial. *sigh*

I wish for peace, both for my husband and myself. I wish for the end of this phase of my life, so that I can truly begin healing without the threat of violence or divorce over my head. I dream of the day that a male friend can take me to dinner without receiving threats from my ex. I truly believe healing begin, for both of us, once those papers are signed and filed. I wish for healing.