Category: sensitive girl

My Magnetic Personality

For years I have told friends that I am a “freak magnet,” and for years, I’ve had them tell me, “Oh, don’t be silly! Everyone says that.”

Then we go out to a bar or a dance club or a restaurant and sure enough, the wackiest person in the room will find their way to me like a moth to a flame.

I don’t head out to the bars and clubs much anymore, so I think I’ve grown a little soft in my ability to head off the loo-loos who inevitably end up sitting next to me.

Wednesday this week, I got invited to a “customer appreciation event” associated with my job.

Well, ok. Appreciate me!

It was a HUGE event with piles of free food, an endless flow of free booze and lots and lots of live musical entertainment.

While I had a gosh dang good time, I was always aware of the fact that I was having a gosh dang good time along with my boss and several coworkers.

I had a few glasses of wine then switched to water about two hours before my anticipated departure time.

At the end of the evening my boss, coworkers and I parted ways at the shuttle busses. The various busses were on different routes to take people back to their hotels and parking in different parts of the city.

Sadly, my route was the most popular, so I stood in a very long line for about forty-five minutes. People were yelling at each other for cutting in line, being snotty and aggressive, and generally at the end of their tether.

I practiced my meditation and art of being calm while I waited my way to the front of the line. Finally I got on a bus and found a seat.

And here’s where my magnetic personality comes in.

The drunkest, largest male human I may have ever encountered stumbled his way onto the shuttle, looked over his seating opportunities, and flung himself into the seat next to me.

Then passed out.

Hey, fine. I’m down with that. It will make for a quiet ride.

Oh nooo. That would be too easy.

As the bus jerked to a start, The Mountain next to me woke up and began making those burping, choking sounds.

“Dude,” I said, forcefully, “are you going to throw up?”

He looked at me somberly and nodded.

“THEN GET OFF THE BUS!” I hollered.

Well. He was at that stage of drunk where all your bones have gone gelatinous, and was unable to stand. Or move. Or do much of anything other than….

Begin vomiting.

He at least had the grace to vomit toward the aisle and not on me.

However…this is where I lost my mind.

I’d been up for a 7am meeting, working hard all day, celebrating heavily all night, and at 1:00 in the morning, wedged in at the window seat next to a vomit breathing dragon, I’d lost my sense of humor.

“Somebody help me! This guy is throwing up!” I yelled to my fellow travelers.

I heard someone go “Ew.” But that was all.

So I tried again, “Help me! Please! This guy needs to get off the bus! He’s throwing up all over the place!”

The bus driver walked down the aisle, saw the guy throwing up, make a “yuck” face and turned around and went back to the front of the bus.

“Are you serious?!? You aren’t going to help me!?!” I yelled at his retreating back.

I was ignored.

So I ratcheted up my freak out and began yelling with renewed energy.

Finally, the guy who appeared to be the friend of Captain Puke came over and in the most condescending way possible asked, “Are you ok?”

“NO!” I replied.

“Do you want out of that seat?”

“YES!” I replied.

So he grabbed my arm and tugged and I pushed off with my legs and we sort of drag vaulted me over the top of the now passed out guy.

An incredible gentleman in the back of the bus stood up and told me that back home in Chicago he commutes to work every day on a bus, and was used to standing. He gave up his seat for me. I thanked him profusely.

When we finally arrived at our destination, as we exited the chartered shuttle bus, we all filed past Barf Boy. He was still passed out in the seat, vomit all down his front.

His friend…the guy that told me what a “good guy” his friend was as he dragged me out of the seat?

He left the unconscious man on the bus.

Fabulous.

What a talent I have, attracting the elite of the world to sit next to me.

The Tradition of One Thousand Paper Cranes

Are you familiar with the Japanese tradition of folding one thousand origami paper cranes?

From Wikipedia:

“An ancient Japanese legend promises that anyone who folds a thousand origami cranes will be granted a wish by a crane, such as long life or recovery from illness or injury. In Asia, it is commonly said that folding 1000 paper origami cranes makes a person’s wish come true.”

I have always been enchanted by this tradition, and many years ago when the daughter of a friend was to be married, I even helped participate in the tradition by helping the bride fold a thousand cranes before her wedding day.

It is an act of diligence, of repetition, of bringing yourself and your heart to each crane.

I was reminded of this tradition today, as I contemplated the creation of this, my one thousandth post here at Oh Fair New Mexico.

Each post is, to me, like a beautiful origami crane, my own work of art constructed from the folds of my brain, the diligence of my psyche, and the creativity of my Muse.

The posts vary widely in topic and scope. I started out as a homesick New Mexican looking to assuage my guilt by talking about home. Three years later, it still holds that space for me, but it’s also grown well beyond, helping me to find my voice and my writing style.

I’m grateful to each and every reader who stops by and gives me their eyeballs for a few minutes. Especially those readers who have been here long enough to remember that The Good Man used to be The Cute Boy.

When I started this blog back in 2007, I hoped I’d be able to make it last for a year. I’ve well exceeded that goal.

So today, as I finish folding my one thousandth crane, I string them all together and let them take flight upon the wind. I’ve cast my cranes to the fates and I send them all out with the best of me on the wing.

Tomorrow, I’ll sit in front of a blank Word document and start again, folding the first crane in the next series of one thousand.

May we all make a beautiful wish that comes true.

Mine already did.




Image source: Hakobyan Hayk’s Blog


The Things I Could Talk About Today

Every morning after I wake up, stumble over the cat and yawn three times, I start to think about my day.

Part of that thinking involves devising a topic for my daily entry to this little ol’ blog.

Over the years, the topics have varied widely from news of the world to news of crevices of my mind. And food. Lots of talk about food.

So I thought quite a bit about what to write about today for this, my 997th post in the life of Oh Fair New Mexico.

I could write more about the really awful fire in San Bruno last night. About the stutter-stall from PG&E in addressing the situation, about the homes and lives lost.

I could go on a rant about the nature of mega-corporations (*coff*BP*coff*) and their inability to respond in crisis situations.

I could even write about the fact that my own employer is a way-too-huge corporation, and sometimes that worries me.

I might even wander out of my local area and riff on that wack-a-doodle “minister” (I use sarcastic quotes on purpose) who is so filled with hate and not a small amount of insanity, that he would endanger the lives of people around the world and American military troops just to get a little publicity for his wack-a-doodle 50 follower church.

I seriously considered discussing the conversation I had this morning with my boss, who is here in the US for three weeks, but who usually lives in London. He is a very kind, gentle and mellow man. He said to me this morning, “I don’t understand this man who wants to burn the Quran. Can you explain it to me?” I couldn’t. It is beyond my grasp.

I could discuss my growing dread regarding the upcoming California governor’s election in my state.

Or my belief that on both sides of the political spectrum, our US Congress has run so far off the rails that I’m unsure how we will ever find our way back.

And I could talk about how, really, this must be end of days because I can’t fathom this world where being so rude, being so self-centered, and being so utterly oblivious are acceptable. And yet, it is.

I even considered discussing how I’m what is considered a very sensitive person. In fact, there are books written on this subject, “The Highly Sensitive Person” and such. And because of that, how my choice to watch a blazing fire on my television all last night is really NOT good for my soul. How tweaked out I am about this whole thing.

Yes. I considered all of those topics and more.

But it’s Friday, and I’m exhausted. Three weeks ago one of my dearest friends died and I still can’t seem to climb up out of that grief.

And watching people lose their homes and their lives last night really did me in.

So today, I’m going to talk about a dog.

My first god dog, a heeler and Chihuahua mix, has been a good dog. She’s deaf and near blind and still very sweet. But she doesn’t run around and chase the ball like she used to.

My second god-dog is an adorable little beast. I’m not good with dog breeds, but I think he is a boxer. He’s a big, muscular dog with a menacing bark.

But he’s the sweetest little pea-pod of a dog I’ve ever known.

And he likes his godmom back.

There now. Let’s not think about the jacked up things in the world.

Look into those eyes. Doncha just feel better basking in the glow of this little bubba of a dog?

I know it makes me feel better.

Everyone just pat a cute dog on the head and love your neighbor and hug your family.

And let’s all have a nice weekend, ok?