Roll Up the Pants

I work for a man (who we'll call Napolean) who loves to hear himself talk. Which is good because he sure as anything doesn't like to put anything in print. (Unless, of course, sarcastic, biting, inappropriate emails count.) And, when he talks, the BS starts a flowin.

And, honestly, I just do not know how to handle him. I'm not one of those people that puts on a poker face. I have *NO* internal gate to keep some thoughts in and let some thoughts out. So when he starts waxing eloquent, how, oh Universe, how?, do I let on that I think he's the biggest jackass in the world?

I guess it helps that just about everyone in the office thinks of him that way too.

How sad it must be to be the laughingstock of the entire company and suspect -- but not really know -- it.

Gee, I feel better already. Thank you, blogger.com

Stay the Course

Listening to President Bush's address upon the dismissal of Rumsfeld. Even in the midst of good news -- Dems taking over the House and likely/possibly the Senate and Rummy getting fired -- I am still filled with anger and, yes folks, hatred for this man.

Is this why I avoid listening -- really listening -- politics? It does not bring out the better aspects of myself. I get mean, and nasty, and small. And that's not a person I like.

I can't wait to listen to Rachel Maddow today. I REALLY can't wait to see The Daily Show.

BTW -- 22 minutes in and I've counted 7 Bushisms. Including "negotiating with himself..."

Perspectives

I went to a yoga workshop yesterday and it was absolutely amazing. They usually are. I'd never studied with this teacher before, but was expecting great things because people had registered from all over New England. You gotta think if people are gonna shell out $300 for a weekend of classes AND cough up for a hotel room, the teacher is worth it.

And, of course, it was.

The opening meditation focused on perspective. Did you know that there are 840 thousand yoga poses? So, basically, every single thing you do is a yoga pose. Strike a pose, there's nothing to it. And Shiva taught in the tantric scriptures that each and all yoga poses can be pathways to ultimate freedom. So, anything you do can be a door to truly being free.

It's all in how you look at it.

So, I'm feeling glorious. I'm feeling like, yeah, man, that's deep. Oooommmm. And I'm stretching and sweating and balancing and really working hard to reach that next stage of freedom.

And the teacher paused class to have a demonstration of a pose --Utthita Hasta Padangusthasana (Revolved extended hand to big toe pose (doesn't the Sanskrit sound nicer?)). I watched with envy the woman who was demonstrating. Not only did she have an absolutely ripped, tight body, but she effortlessly floated into the pose and held it, rock steady and sure. I wasn't sure which I resented more - her perfect body or her perfect practice.

And just then, the woman next to me leans over and, smiling, says, "Isn't it glorious to see people who can really do these poses. It gives me such hope. She's really so beautiful."

It's all in how you look at it.

I'd really like to beat myself up for even being jealous in the first place, but maybe it's better to see the whole exchange as a hands' on learning experience.

Right?

Road Rage

There used to appear bumper stickers that said:

Visualize Using Your Turn Signal

I maintain that the new generation of bumper stickers -- anti-war, anti-administraiton, anti-violence, anti-anti -- would be completely unnecessary if people remembered the mantra of that simple sticker of long ago.

Do you know how much kinder and gentler I'd be if people signalled before they cut me off? And, after all, peace begins with me.

Well, actually peace begins with pea, but you get the idea.

Fear Factor

My life is an episode of Fear Factor.

First the aforementioned Cooch Roach.

Then, today, out to lunch with our HR rep. I order the Veggie Wrap, no mayo, salad instead of fries.

I'm at least three quarters of the way through it when I realize that taste I couldn't quite place ... Is CHICKEN. Not just bland, anonymous McChicken flesh. Actual chicken breast and skin. Real chicken. Like the chicken I had IMMEDIATELY before turning vegetarian.

How is one supposed to handle that in front of one's HR rep?

I didn't flip out but I did get a little snippy. Especially when the server acted like, dude, it was really no big deal that there was chicken in my sandwich, I mean, really. Dude.

And, as if that wasn't enough, apparently my hypnotherapy worked last weekend. Because even though I was out with HR to discuss certain, uh, issues, I just kept seeing the positive in all situations. The lovingkindness, as it were. Damnit. Damn healthy balance and being in touch with the greater Universal energies. Dammit.

PS -- Is DAMN IT spelled with an MM or an MN?