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| Who loves her parents? The Soctopus! |
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| Oh, hey Dad, I did a thing! |
*Aaaaand I'm an idiot who forgot to mention that my work is done by Khalil Linane at Fist Full of Metal. Go see him, because he's awesome.*
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
Who's Your Daddy?
*Aaaaand I'm an idiot who forgot to mention that my work is done by Khalil Linane at Fist Full of Metal. Go see him, because he's awesome.*
Arrrr...gh.
In other news, the 'Pus is decidedly over dating and meeting new people. It's like a game of Goldilocks from hell. No one person ever seems to fit quite right. So in the meantime, the 'Pus is going to concentrate on friends and family and founding an island of puppies to retire to. All dating apps deleted, all profiles retired. I suppose I hit dating shenanigans critical mass so it was time to take the Soctopus out of the game.
Did I learn anything? Actually, yes, but more about myself and what I do/don't want in a partner. Number one lesson: dating has changed in the past decade. A lot. Oy vey. Sexting. Sexy emojis. Too much to take in. Lesson two: while there are good men out there, you have to sort through approximately eleventy assholes to meet them. Decidedly not worth it. Lesson three: hot guys are *more* insecure than their less hot brethren. The best looking guy I dated was a complete hot mess, obsessed with his muscles and how women viewed him. Spoiler alert: not well.
Another lesson learned: if you remind me of Mr. Soctopus, either in actions or mannerisms, I will notice it immediately and kick you to the curb. Examples: treating my friends defensively, trying to control who/when I see, being emotionally vacant/unavailable. Last (short) relationship ended abruptly when I realized I was dating Mr. Soctopus 2.0. Immediate reaction: "run for the hills, DANGERRRRRRR!" Which is healthy, and a nice realization. The Soctopus prioritized healthy wants and needs over ridiculously good-looking! (I know, I know, I kinda can't believe it either.)
On the plus side, the Soctopus bought a panda-bear onesie and has decided that pretty much makes err'thing OK. Panda-pus? Soctopanda-bear?
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
So Emo...
An introspective night, thinking of someone who came and went from my life, like a hurricane. A friend recently said some relationships are short and sweet, but no less meaningful. So that is the one I think of in the dead of night - short, fraught with emotion, but no less meaningful for its short duration.
Tonight, I can't help but think of this man, this flawed, beautiful, funny man. And I wonder: beautiful man, do you ever think of me? Do you lie awake in the dark of night, wondering how I am, if I ever think of you? It's been a long time since I thought of this lovely man, but tonight, I can't help but wonder, and feel, and think that I'm glad I had the short time that I spent in his company. I call it my "girl brain," that irrational hunger to know where he is at. It's unhealthy, and nothing good can come of it, but I want to know: do you sometimes think of me, too, and wonder what might have been? Do you miss my jokes, and terrible selfies? I miss you, beautiful man. I hope you're well, and happy. I hope you smile everyday. And I hope you remember me with a smile, a fond memory of the girl that passed through your life.
I won't contact this man, even though I want to reach out. So I'll just write this blog, in the wee hours of the night, and let out my feelings, and tomorrow I'll wake up, make my coffee, and he'll be a fond memory once more. Goodnight, beautiful man, I miss you.
Tonight, I can't help but think of this man, this flawed, beautiful, funny man. And I wonder: beautiful man, do you ever think of me? Do you lie awake in the dark of night, wondering how I am, if I ever think of you? It's been a long time since I thought of this lovely man, but tonight, I can't help but wonder, and feel, and think that I'm glad I had the short time that I spent in his company. I call it my "girl brain," that irrational hunger to know where he is at. It's unhealthy, and nothing good can come of it, but I want to know: do you sometimes think of me, too, and wonder what might have been? Do you miss my jokes, and terrible selfies? I miss you, beautiful man. I hope you're well, and happy. I hope you smile everyday. And I hope you remember me with a smile, a fond memory of the girl that passed through your life.
I won't contact this man, even though I want to reach out. So I'll just write this blog, in the wee hours of the night, and let out my feelings, and tomorrow I'll wake up, make my coffee, and he'll be a fond memory once more. Goodnight, beautiful man, I miss you.
Sunday, August 24, 2014
Your Momma...
Saturday, July 12, 2014
Photo Album: Tentacles Up!
Snapshots from the last year:
Good times and ice cream with friends.
Dressed for summer, ready to roll.
4th of July with a furry friend.
Buckley the elk.
Birthday tide pooling.
Once again, stupid-long hair and a happy smile.
Uniform for the rest of the summer.
A Year Of Living Dangerously...
...not really. This is me now:
One year post-divorce. Several pounds lighter, with a much lighter heart and quite a few more tattoos. The Soctopus has done a lot of new things this year, and met a lot of new people. Most good people, a few bad, several quite odd. Dating has been a strange and enlightening experience, one that still continues. Internet dating: bad. Dating in general: often humerous, occasionally fun, sometimes heartbreaking. However, I still have a whole heart and a spring in my step.
I went on a date with a man wearing an Affliction t-shirt and embroidered jeans (true story). Hard not to hide my face in shame on that one...
I went on a date with a married man. (Also a true story. Not a happy one.)
I got stood up, and I stood up a few people.
Somehow, through it all, I kept learning and growing. Things I've learned: it's OK to be by myself. It's OK to say goodbye to unhealthy people and do right for yourself. Try new things. Say yes to unexpected adventures. Live a full life and never apologize for being yourself. Last but not least, I learned to say goodbye to the past.
One year of growth and change, one year of learning to live happily. One year of learning the new, true me. I like this me. I think I'll keep her.
I went on a date with a man wearing an Affliction t-shirt and embroidered jeans (true story). Hard not to hide my face in shame on that one...
I went on a date with a married man. (Also a true story. Not a happy one.)
I got stood up, and I stood up a few people.
Somehow, through it all, I kept learning and growing. Things I've learned: it's OK to be by myself. It's OK to say goodbye to unhealthy people and do right for yourself. Try new things. Say yes to unexpected adventures. Live a full life and never apologize for being yourself. Last but not least, I learned to say goodbye to the past.
One year of growth and change, one year of learning to live happily. One year of learning the new, true me. I like this me. I think I'll keep her.
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.
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
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!
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.)
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!
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!
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