Misadventures in the Cosmetics Industry
I will start from, where else but, the beginning. When my dad moved out, my mom came up with several ideas for sources of income. She has practically always owned her own daycare, but now needed supplement income to maintain the household. Enter in-home businesses. Child care provider by day, candle and cosmetics extraordinaire by night! I vaguely remember any of this as I moved out and was preoccupied with my own turmoil anyway. However, the mysterious circle of life seems to well, circle back around, doesn't it?
Fast forward like twelve years. I am minding my own business when my neighbor (hey, shed make some good blog posts herself) invited me to an XXXXX demonstration. I obliged because Im cool like that. Also, I knew that XXXXX was in the business of all natural skin care. Its important to me to take care of my skin anyway, and I had been breaking out a lot due to crazy hormones post popping the kids out. So, I go.
I was impressed with the demonstration, and instead of just being the good neighbor by buying something (I had only intended on a concealer to, you know, conceal the breakouts), I became the awesome neighbor by buying the whole skin care kit. I like the fact that XXXXX uses aloe vera as the base of all their products. Plus, I had tried everything else out there, so why not?
I booked my own demonstration (thus becoming SUPER neighbor) because I would get FREE stuff for doing so. Long story short, I had my demonstration, the consultant sold a ton of stuff at it and pumped up my ego by telling me I was _________(replace with 1000 different compliments).
She said I should come to a franchise meeting because I was so __________ and would be PERFECT at this. She saw something *special* in me. Wow. Me? Awww! This left me with a lot of deliberating to do. I was in dire need of getting out of the whole Im now just only someone's wife and only someone's mommy mentality I was stuck in. It was no obligation to just go and listen. Right?
Well, I left that meeting with a training kit. They sucked me right in. First, and foremost, I have never had a group, clique, circle of amigas I had ever been a part of. Women are usually just heinous, and I've always steered clear of them. These girls at this meeting all walked up to me, hugged me and found something about me to compliment. There was no vile gut reaction on my part! No these girls are so fake, shoot me thoughts crossed my mind. Spooky. Secondly, I need some money. I found out the commission rocks. Thirdly, I have this certain issue with going out and interviewing, so if someone was going to walk up to me and hand me a job, uh, I better snatch it up. Again, why not?
So, the issue. I have social anxiety/panic disorder/agoraphobia/whatever. I've been on and off meds for 10 years now. I just recently started seeing someone again about It (and it was high time too). But, anyway. I was rather freaked out with the notion that I (that would be ME) was really going to stand up in front of people and give demonstrations. This is a test. This is only a test. The Emergency Pessimistic System does not think I can do it. Well, screw the system! I WILL do it!
In getting back out into the real world, I picked the most strenuous possible job for myself. It has been sheer stubbornness (and a little chemical imbalance regulator here and thereI wont lie) that has gotten me through. I have been pumped about this whole consultant job though. I've actually enjoyed trainings and meetings and conferences (Yay! Houston!) with all the girls. I've tapped into an inner part of me I never knew existed through this experience. That's pretty cool.
And guess what? I proved myself. In March, I was a super close 3rd in sales out of the entire franchise. Sweet, yeah?
Since then, it seems I have run out of steam. I had not given up the last month or so as I was working really hard behind the scenes coming up with sales. But, I cant seem to get the bookings up no matter what I try to do. I don't want it to look like Im a quitter. I am, however, on the last millimeter of the closest edge of the decision to move away from doing the presentations now.
I am sad because I actually cant stand the thought of not seeing any of the girls again. If I move away from the presentations, I also move away from the trainings and meetings and conferences. I do actually hate the presentations themselves now. I hate how sick I am the day before the day of the presentation, the day of the presentation and the day after the presentation. It takes such an extraordinary toll on me to do them. I know a lot of people just wouldn't understand. I was supposed to enjoy this adventure, but Im sick over it instead.
I wont think myself a quitter. Ill think myself someone who came into a job with a goal, and the goal was simply to prove that I could even do it in the first place.
I am proud of myself after all.
Disheartened
Sometimes I read through different news events on Yahoo!'s main page. Only sometimes because I have a Yahoo! email as well as my alltel one, and I go to the main page here and there and then check out the headlines.
I don't like the news much.
Ever since I had my kids, I find it way too nauseating to see how horrible the world is. I like to think we are in a little invincible bubble where the sharp sword of the news can't pierce through.
This is an intro to talk about something truly disheartening. I did glancingly read a story about a little girl being molested recently, and it opened up a door down the end of a long dark corridor in my head.
My mom is very sheltering over me regarding things about her family's past and her health (an entirely different story). There are things I'd like to know as they would probably help me be on the lookout for possible issues I might develop later in life.
Anyway, she does, however, have moments in time where she unloads way too much information all at once, and I am left trying to right my turned upside-down brain.
One such lamentation was regarding our family history of the women being subjected to molestation. The entirety of her story was not something I had had a clue about before. I had already known a small bit about my cousin being raped at 9 by her mom's at-the-time boyfriend. My cousin had told me once.
I'm not sure about my great grandmother's story. I do know that they lived in completely different times back then where it was okay to beat your kids. And, I mean BEAT.
The story I know begins with my grandmother and her sister. They were left alone a lot while their parents had to work to feed the family. Well, of course back then someone delivered fresh milk in the glass bottles every day. That milkman took it upon himself to take advantage of two little girls left all alone. Of course, they couldn't tell anyone because he would kill them, right? At least that was his threat.
My biological grandfather was a !@#$, He ran around on my grandmother and mentally abused his daughters. Apparently, with my mom's older sister it was more than mental. I'm guessing this messed her up because she ended up having a kid at 14 while heavily addicted to drugs and has since been in 8 (well, that's when I stopped counting anyway) marriages--most of them being abusive relationships.
That's where it leads to one of her boyfriend's raping her daughter.
My mom hasn't actually divulged details regarding herself. And I don't pry.
She made this statement, "Each girl in four generations of my family has been molested now." This is truly disheartening, is it not?
Why? What is this cycle?
I have my daughter now, and I love her with all my heart. I pray on my life that the cycle stops with me.
Wha What?! TWO YEARS!?!?
Well, I have neglected this blog for coming up on two years now. I can not even begin to believe it has been that long. Oh well. I FINALLY (underline, exclamation) figured out my old username & password. I've tried to update some features as I've found blogger has several new ones. Anyhoo. What I have been up to can be found on www.myspace.com/petulantlyyours. Guess that's my new digs.
So It Starts
I tossed my soon-to-be-one-year-old daughter in the bath tub with my four-year-old son to kill the proverbial two birds with the proverbial one stone as I usually do, but got some unexpected comments this time.
Four-year-old son: "Hey. Where is her peepee?"
Caught off guard mom: "Well, she has one in the same place as you, but hers is different than yours because she is a girl."
Innocent son: "Ohh. Well, I am a boy, and mine is like this (clutching it). Where is your peepee, mom?"
Tongue-tied mother: "Well, mine is in the same place as well."
Curious son: "What kind is it?"
Bemused mom: "Well, I am a girl, you know"
Enlightened son: "Ohh. Well, can I see it?"
Distressed mom: "Umm. No."
**********
I am sitting on the couch and my son crawls onto my lap and sweetly lays his head on my chest. I smile in anticipation of a nice snuggle. Then he abruptly raises his head and pokes my boob:
Son with a screwed up nose: "What is THAT?"
Mom with a sigh: "Well, it's my chest, son."
Bewildered child: "Woah." (Lifts up his tee shirt and pokes his pec.) "My chests are really small, see?!"
Wincing mom: "Yeah."
Right on cue son: "But yours are BIG BIG BIG!!!!!" (Pause.) "Can I see?"
Mom with another wince: "Umm. No."
$$$
I just suddenly recalled a memory from my childhood:
I used to swallow coins a lot as a child and jump up and down to try and see if they would jingle in my belly.
Is that weird?
Fear Of Fear Itself
My few freaky fears of which I can't seem to shake off thoughts:
1) The Shower Scene: I am obsessively fearful of closing my eyes to rinse my hair and when I reopen them someone could be standing there.
2) Dashboard Confessionals: I am obsessively fearful of innocently driving down the road and a foreign object out of nowhere smacking my windshield shattering it to pieces at my face.
3) Sweet Dreams: I am obsessively fearful of hanging my foot off the bed in my sleep and something rearing up and biting it off. (Thanks, Dad, for watching horror flicks in front of me as a small child.)
Waiting
Recently, I took a book quiz linked on someone's blog. I know it was supposed to be for fun so to speak, but I took it a little more to heart than that [so sue me].
Disheartened is a good word for how it struck me at first. I was like, "Wow. This is a little too coincidental with the facts of my life right now." I like to take stock in silly little things such as this book quiz thing. Maybe it's the romantic in me. Maybe I truly believe in fate.
So, here is the book I am:
WAITING FOR GODOT
A tragicomedy in two acts. "...one of the most noble and moving plays of our generation, a threnody of hope deceived and deferred but never extinguished; a play suffused with tenderness for the whole human perplexity; with phrases that come like a sharp stab of beauty and pain."
You're Waiting for Godot! by Samuel Beckett
Many people think you're extremely dull, but you're just trying to be patient. Really patient. Patient to the point of absurdity, quite frankly. Whatever you're waiting for isn't going to just come along, so you can stop waiting. I promise. Move on with your life. Change of scenery might do you good. Heck, any scenery might do you good. In the meantime, you do make for very interesting conversation.
Gee. That's a little harsh, eh? Now you can see why I was a little disheartened. Whatever in life I am waiting for, well, I can just stop waiting because it isn't going to come along. Man.
Yeah, I went and bought the book [you can sue me again for that one]. I just finished, and I did find it interesting. And the one-liners throughout were brilliant and introspective. [I'm still big on one-liners.]
So why do I wait? And wait some more? And then more with the waiting? It's true. I don't seize the day. Carpe diem - HA! I laugh in the face of it. Whatever project is going on with me, I know there will be a more convenient time and more reasonable circumstance for me to complete the tasks necessary to achieve my goal. Sometimes those circumstances manifest, of course, sometimes not.
Am I going to continue to wait for Godot? Now, that this flaw has been brought to the forefront of my attention - I guess we will see if I am content to settle in and continue to wait for him, if I am going to move on and give up waiting any longer, or if I am going to go beat down Godot's door and take him by the neck.
What book are you?
http://bluepyramid.org/ia/bquiz.htm
Simply A Poem
Crashing
waiting while the heart aches
what then when it breaks
there is he who hung the moon
the depth of her love will not end soon
is it to be? can't hold her breath
the longing inside leads to a death
the glass is half full, the heart half empty
sitting, staring for an eternity
the light dims, room engulfed by night
what may happen shouldn't feel right
all she wants is to disappear into the sea
waves crashing, setting her free
over the edge the irony of life can push
those who had but one wish
it is not granted, no love is made
so she vanishes
into the night she fades
Midlife Crisis
I just looked up midlife crisis in the dictionary:
A period of psychological doubt and anxiety that some people experience in middle age.
I love definitions. They define a term so well. Hehe.
I've been pretty consumed by this line of thinking for a couple/few months now. Seems since I will be turning 26 in about five days, my "doubt and anxiety" are taking on an even greater fervor.
This had been kicking around in my own head without anyone else's knowledge, and all of the sudden more and more people I know of (mainly who I read on-line) were bringing out these similar feelings. It doesn't seem to matter where a person is or what they have in their life, I'm seeing a certain ten year grey area of time for introspection.
My mom has recently told me that she had a period of "midlife crisis" at this very same point in life where I am. She brought it up, not me, so that added to the credibility of what she was saying since it was so coincidental. She told me that she had given birth to her two children, and apart from her family, she didn't have anything to show for herself. She said she had asked herself, "Is this it?" Man, that hit home.
Of course, don't get me wrong. My family is amazing and fulfilling and wonderful. My family is everything. Wouldn't trade them for anything. And yet, what about me? I have given and given, and I am afraid that I've given all of me away so that I don't know who I am anymore.
Right now I don't believe my family should define me as a whole. Who is the me who would have existed without them? Am I a worthwhile person of my own accord? What makes me happy? Sad? Intrigued? Not just what enjoyment or sorrow I get as a result of my husband's or my children's feelings. What do I want for the future when the kids are in school and the husband is at work, and I am left alone. Will I be afraid of myself? Is my life as I know it and the way I am now really it for me?
So, what can I do to make myself happy. I don't mean happy because the family is happy. I don't want to smile because they smile. Frown because they frown. I want the happiness to radiate from within myself. I'm waiting for that me to come out. I'm trying to find the real me so I will be a better person. For myself. And then my loved ones will be better for it as well.
I am a very nostalgic person. Although, I've figured out that my nostalgia is not for the way things were in my life before nor for people or places or events in my past. My nostalgia lies in how I was within myself at one time or another. I want to be happy with me, and there have been times in my life when I was happy [or at least ok] with me. So, how am I going to find that again?
I've been trying to be a bit more selfish with time for myself. Getting away from routine stress and figuring me out and all. As of late, I had come to the conclusion that I am a very impressionable person, and that bothers the hell out of me. I kind of think I know why this is. It goes back to my initial numb reaction to anything that occurs around me. I go numb, people around me react, they know immediately how they feel, and I am peppered by these people's thoughts and feelings before I am able to formulate my own opinion and emotion.
This can really be a bummer. I might see their side of things at the time and agree. Then my own adrenaline finally kicks in and, lo and behold, I actually have my own head on my shoulders. So, I have adopted this habit of always initially playing devil's advocate to anyone who has an opinion to impart to me. That way I can agree to disagree and then create my own untainted view on things. As a result, I am getting into more arguments now than I ever have in my entire life. Was I that much of a doormat?
I think I have digressed a bit.
So then, I suppose in putting my own opinions on the back burner for so long in an effort to cease and desist any turmoil or confrontation in life, I have failed to figure out who I am. I guess better late than never. I do like to understand and empathize will all sides, and yet I don't want to be walked over by people too much anymore either. I'll have to find a balance.
I dare say all of this could define a midlife crisis, couldn't it?
Oh yeah, I've also been repeatedly dreaming that I got a tattoo, and I really want a Mazda RX7. That's crazy to me because I've always been a truck/SUV kind of chick. These definitely qualify as midlife crisis yearnings.
Five days and counting. I won't be
25 and under anymore. I will be in the ranks of
over 25.
I know. I'm not too sane.
I don't instigate! Honest!
I've decided to post my latest questionable female experience. This will be like the third or fourth post involving me relaying an occurrence of possibly being hit on by another chick. I don't think it's all in my imagination [I'd need to do some serious re-evaluations]. I can say that I don't instigate these happenings, I just must have some kind of weird magnetism [heh heh].
Picture me minding my own business at the pool [if you know what I look like that is - if you don't just make me look cute in your picturization]. Unlike the other times I had been at the pool, this day was rather busy. Most of the lounge chairs were occupied [keep this point in mind throughout the tale]. I was soaking in the rays when I spied out of the corner of my eye someone walking around from the other side of the pool [you know how you judge people in their swimsuits - don't say you don't].
I was expecting this cute, bikini clad, Asian girl to just keep on walking around the pool, but she deviated from the pool's edge and started walking towards me. So, I avert my eyes and act like I wasn't watching her or anything. I don't like when strangers walk up to me and ask me something. It's an anxiety thing. They will ask me something normal such as, "Do you have the time?" or "Would you like fries with that?" And I will panic and blurt, "The sky is blue!" and run away.
So, walking towards me was another embarrass myself opportunity. I couldn't hide either. She stops in front of my lounge chair, looks down with a big smile and says, "Will you rub lotion on me?" A tube of sun lotion was placed in my hand, and I unseeingly stared down at it for a split second. "Sure!" [Was no hesitation a bad thing? Nah! I was just being neighborly!]
And I commence in the lotion rubbing. Sorry to disappoint, but I felt like a geek. Standing there awkwardly rubbing on lotion like that. You would hope - lesbian or not - that you would feel hot doing something like that. She probably looked hot to everyone else. She gathered up all her hair and swung it to the side and kind of bent over to hold it all off her back. I, on the other hand, pushed the lotion tube too hard and blurped a huge pile onto my hand. I smeared it all over her back from neck to ass, and I ended up having to towel off half of it. Her back looked like some nerd's nose with a layer of white covering it.
She thanked me and continued to chat it up for like some twenty minutes. I was shuffling from foot to foot on the hot cement wondering what the hell she was babbling about. She was cool and nice though, and I ended up relaxing to the conversation about five minutes before she finally decided to go lay in the sun some more. She walked away and turned with a, "Hope to see you around the pool real soon!" [I watched off and on, and I never even saw her lay on her stomach to sun her back I had so painstakingly applied lotion to.]
My husband had been "dozing" in the sun a short distance away. When she walked off he opened his eyes and said, "Well, I can check fantasy #14 off my list as being fulfilled!"
