Grenade

First off, click on the video. I know you want to. It's a great rendition of the song--I like this version better than the original. Don't get me wrong, I am well-suited for the angsty version... but I can also complain in doo-wop form.

Yesterday I wrote about being under-appreciated. Today I went to a lecture on Negotiations, particularly women and negotiations. So, yeah, I get it--if I want something, I need to be upfront about it. I shouldn't assume that people have manners or commonsense, because we all know that's far from the truth. I need to follow the lead of my male counterparts and just f*ck it. It's just business, and apparently, everything is an arm's length deal--no alliances, no cooperations--just straight up business.

I should protect my greatest asset, because I shouldn't feel like sh*t when I have pure intentions (and in all seriousness, who will stand up for me?!).

So enough of this. Arm's length. Nothing more. Nothing less. TINSTAAFL. Straight up.

Yeah, selfish you say? Shut up. If you want an altruistic feel: I can't save the world if I'm too emotionally broken to care.

So there. Boo-yah.

The Little Things

All I ask for is a little validation. I understand that I am nowhere near important on your list of social circles. I understand that I am a worthless dot in your web of networks. But I do expect a little common decency. When I go out of my way to do research for you and help you out, I do expect some recognition. Hell, just confirm you got the damn email/comment/text... acknowledgement goes a long way, especially for a person who is forced to work the backstage because of some preconceived notion of not being worthy enough of being in the spotlight.

You get more manners from a stranger than you get from someone you know. One day you're going to have to leverage my support, and in all seriousness, I don't think I'll give it so freely. In the words of Janet Jackson, what have you done for me lately?

People are mean. Never care for them. Never.

Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay

It must've been the heat that reminded me of the typical San Francisco October weather... or my need to go back home or possibly a need to hit things hard (get your mind out of the gutter), but I had a dream about an SF Giants baseball player yesterday.

Carlos is berating me in Spanish (which I somehow fully understand). He refuses to have his little sister, a natural talent like himself, who cannot switch-hit with consistent numbers from both sides. We're at the batting cages--public batting cages--and here he is, practically flogging me, using his bat as a cane, other hand on hip, declaring that if I can't hit--that I should change my last name. Two hours, he locks me in these cages. Only after the skin on my palms starts blistering (because I shouldn't wear gloves until I understand the reverberations of my bat when I do hit the ball well) does he let me out. While we walk to the parking lot he tells me that he's satisfied with my progress, that I can keep our surname, and then makes me some bomb-ass homemade lechon back at his house.

Yeah... I really don't know what this is about. I really don't. But that lechon was awesome. The dream was so vivid--the brown/orange dirt at the batting cages, the vibration of a hit going up your arm, the loud yelling... the blue sky, light breeze with an ocean scent. It was like a freakin' movie and I was Girl Friday.

...Yeah... I believe I'm pretty close to losing my marbles. 0_o

Gotta listen to this version... the sadness and pain in Sara Bareilles' voice... oh man... (at least the first verse and chorus...)

Sitting on the dock of the Bay...

Wasting time.

Hold On

...No one can change your life except for you...

...Just open your heart and your mind...

I loved this song when I was a kid. And I don't know... I've been feeling a little nostalgic for my childhood. Psychoanalyzing it now, I see why I liked this song... 3 girls singing in a group... 2 skinny girls, one big girl who happens to sing alto--but that's never here nor there.

...You got yourself into your own mess...

I just wonder, you know... it's just amazing, the human spirit. How a song, a person, a thought could facilitate perseverance even though everything around you seems to crumble. I've been away for 2 months now and I found that new things seem to inspire me--adding to the collection of hope that I now possess. As my friend, PhD to be, stated, "Wherever you are, you have a right to have a place called home." This place will never replace HOME, but the posted pictures of my friends and family on my walls, the weird and often inefficient meetings with my core team, and the idea that I can make a difference with the information I'm learning makes it easier to swallow the distance.

It gets easier. It really does. But only if you continue to hold on.

...If you hold on for one more day... can you hold on? Can you hold on?