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friendship

Friendship.

by Monique on February 2, 2008


Well, I am at work… I showed up after all. I was really tempted to wear my PJ’s but felt that wasn’t appropriate for a post office. Plus, I think I would have been sent back home. Not that that would have been a bad thing.

Something I rarely - actually I never - talk about is the people I work with. One special person I work with is this pretty dorky girl who I call RoRo, she is kind of like my boss, but also one of my best friends.

We have such an unusual friendship. And it’s not because she is my boss, but because we are so candid with each other. We are absolutely uncensored in each others presence. If it has happened to her, she has no problems telling me… and I do the same with her. I even went with her - and sat in the room - when she got her first Brazilian wax. I was her support team! Let me tell you though, there are very few women on the planet I would have done that for.

She is younger than me but it has never plaed a factor in anything. We have walked the same steps in so many situations. We both lived our lives as anorexics, battling with the right to have control in SOME aspect of our lives. We have dealt with past abuse. Childhood traumas. I’m adopted, she was in foster care. You know, just things like that that make us more relatable to each other.

She is one of those people who accepts her faults and lets me pick on them. And she does the same to me. We are constantly taking jabs at each other… calling each other names. I make fun of her accent, she makes fun of mine. She loves to say things to shock me… just to see the look of disgust on my face. She has this loooooooooooud, I’d even call it a boisterous laugh I would probably hate coming from anyone else. She is really clumsy too. She once broke her toe because she dropped a jar of pickles on it. Today she is hoping around here because she stubbed her pinky toe on a door and then fell face first into the floor. Genius eh?

Working with her is usually a barrel of fun. We can just give each other a look and fall to pieces laughing. Customers don’t know what to make of us, that’s for sure. Sometimes we play fight and insult each other, and they actually think we are serious. A donkey would know we are being sarcastic. Shows you how stupid rich people can be. (I think I might have some deep issues with “people with money in Texas”. I’ll cover that in another post.)

If it weren’t for her, I would probably hate my job. Or like it a lot less than I do. She makes it bearable and a lot of fun. It’s nice to be around people you can be real with. So when a customer makes me mad I can wish death upon them and she will laugh and understand. 

Now that you know who she is, I can devote more time to picking on her on the World Wide Web for all to see!

Ok…. I was about to close this post and go back to work… and this whench just came in and announced she had sex over her lunch hour. See? Oh wait, she ate sushi and then got boinked. My bad.

I tell ya, the stuff I have to put up with.

I still love her though.

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Life.

by Monique on January 28, 2008


I honestly try to make an effort everyday to post something on my blog. Sadly, I fail at it miserably. I do think about it several times a day and then by the time I get home from work, I’m just like blah. I usually leave for work around 7:30 in the morning and don’t get home until 6:30 or 7. And that’s only if I head straight home.

My after work time usually consists of me answering emails, drooling over new things I want from Amazon.com, checking on other sites I maintain, updating my Flickr account and getting my daily fix from the other blogs I try and read everyday. After I do all that, I’m usually really tired and convince myself that I can post something in the morning. Clearly that never happens. However, I am committed to doing better. I have an awesome group of readers who keep coming back and me only updating every 2-3 days isn’t fair to them.

In other life news, I have been talking to the ex regularly. Not because I want something to happen - because I don’t! - but because even though he was a big loser back then, he’s not necessarily a loser now. (Haha.) I will admit he is a big jerk now, who is very very aggressive but sadly for him I am not that same girl I was all those years ago. On a positive note he is slowly realizing it.

That leads to another bit of news, The girl he got pregnant, and then married, and then had a son with had a bad asthma attack a few days ago. She is now in a coma after her lung collapsed. It’s all very sad. They say she is now brain dead. She was my age. The ex arrived there this morning and they are now preparing to take her off of life support. It’s so strange how I had not heard of her in all these years, and then the ex pops up out of nowhere, and we are discussing her, and all of these feelings come to surface only for her to pass away a few weeks later. Parts of me feel so guilty.

Shortly after I heard all that, I got word that my cousin was sick and in the hospital with a possible brain tumor. Today I’m going to call around and get some more information. I have to say, this is one thing about being distant from family that gets to me. I’m usually the last to know just about everything. If it weren’t for my mother, I’d be completely in the dark.

Anyway…

Something else that’s kind of newsworthy is that I braved all my insane neurotic body dysmorphic issues and joined 365 Days on Flickr. I absolutely hate having my picture taken, and with this group you have to take a picture of yourself every day for a whole year. You can take a picture of anything, as long as its YOU. So, a finger or toe would work. However, I am so determined to “get over myself” and take these pictures. I spend what feels like hours overanalyzing every single shot, hating every single one, pointing out every imperfection… it’s torture!! I’m on day 10, and I probably have taken over 500 hundred pictures of my goofy face. I’m trying really hard to fight the urge to take a picture of my pinky. Of course, knowing me, I’d find something wrong with that.

Now, do not confuse my utter hatred of pictures of myself as me not having self confidence because I have that coming out of every pore. No one can now or ever tell me that I’m not a badass. However, I don’t like how my badassness looks on camera.

:)

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