And so the nerves begin

I am not a "people person." I do not get excited at the prospect of spending an entire day with a room full of complete strangers. However, I know there are things I need to do to move forward in the world that require me to spend an entire day with a room full of complete strangers.

On Sunday, I will be spending the day in York, PA getting licensed in Zumba Gold.

Sadly, this does not involve actual gold.

Here is the description of the class stolen from the Zumba website:

Zumba Gold targets the largest growing segment of the population: baby boomers. It takes the Zumba formula and modifies the moves and pacing to suit the needs of the active older participant, as well as those just starting their journey to a fit and healthy lifestyle. What stays the same are all the elements the Zumba Fitness-Party is known for: the zesty Latin music, like salsa, merengue, cumbia and reggaeton; the exhilarating, easy-to-follow moves; and the invigorating, party-like atmosphere. Active older adults want camaraderie, excitement and fitness as a regular part of their weekly schedule. Zumba Gold is the perfect fit. It’s a dance-fitness class that feels friendly, and most of all, fun.

So I won't even be spending the day doing anything fun. It will be filled with lectures and learning how to make the moves I already know into something that older people can do successfully. Luckily, I have already completed three Zumba trainings (Zumba basic, Zumba basic 2, and Zumbatomic) so I know what to expect. Sort of. And this makes me nervous.

Not the actual information part. I know I can do that. It's the people part. The Education Specialist will break us down into smaller groups so we can discuss things and be like a mini think tank. Each group gets a subject like "What would be good rewards for kids?" or "Where could you market your class?" Then we are expected to make a list and present it to the rest of the class.

I hate that part. I always try to hide so my group won't pick me for the 'speaker.' It's almost like being back in school again.

When I go to social events, I usually have my husband around to handle the small talk. I am very bad at small talk. When I go to these trainings, I usually just sit along the back wall during lecture time and quietly take notes. I don't want or need to be the center of attention. I just want to obtain the necessary information (and license) so I can put it to good use.

But you teach classes? Isn't that dealing with people?

That is a completely different animal. When I am in charge of something, it's like I'm a different person. I have to be personable because I am being paid. It's part of the instructor package. It's only when I'm stuck in a group of strangers who are (usually) more knowledgeable  that I freak out. And it's because I think that they think that anything I have to say is stupid. I don't want to hear "That is so stupid" so I just don't say anything.

That is what I am nervous about. That I will be forced to speak in front of the class and something moronic will pop out of my mouth and everyone will laugh at me.

I don't want people to laugh at me.

But I will be brave. And I will go to class. And I will quietly take notes in the back. And I will participate in the practical part of the class. And I will get my Gold license. But I will not single myself out for anything. I will meld into the background like a chameleon.

Unincluded (it's a lot like Uninvited)

I work in a fairly small office. There is a grand total of 21 employees in this location. (We have a few people that work out-of-state but they aren't relevant to this story.) One of our departments is in a different section of our building leaving 16 people in my section of the building. Of these 16, there is a 'lunch clique' that consists of 6 people. Unfortunately for me, these six people are in offices that surround my office. That means I have to listen to them make their various lunch plans every day. Normally this does not bother me a great deal.

Because this is what they eat almost every day.

Sometimes it does.

See, these people have an unhealthy addiction to Thai food. Specifically the Thai restaurant across the street. However, the Thai restaurant across the street does not have an addiction to them. (Or making money, it seems.) While a majority of their conversations consist of whether or not they are ordering Thai and what they should do if the Thai restaurant randomly decides to not answer their phone that day, today is a different story.

Today they picked Chinese food.

I actually like Chinese food. Thai? Not so much. (Especially when they are all ordering the spiciest food they can get. I don't like spicy. I don't want to mistakenly eat burn-my-mouth-off food.) I used to be on the list of people they would invite into their lunch group. Apparently I said 'no thank you' too many times. (For the record, I have said yes more than I have said no.) I am no longer on the invite list.

Why does this bother me?

Because I am delicious!!!

Well, sometimes I would like to order Chinese food too. But I'm not the type of person that will barge into an office to be all "ME TOO!," assuming that I know what they are ordering before I overhear someone calling in the order. To be honest, Chinese food sounds an awful lot like Thai food until you get to the fried rice or white rice option.

I suppose I should get over myself and learn how to barge into people's office. It just seems so rude. And it's not like I never eat Chinese food. My daughter has finally learned that it is delicious so we order it about once a month. Occasionally, my husband even makes some on his own. Really, this whole thing about me feeling left out. I am the only one in my hallway that is not in the clique. I feel like the geeky science nerd in the middle of the cheerleading squad and I don't even like science!

I just want to belong.

Tattoos Are Awesome

I am generally a cold person. Not personality-wise. Temperature-wise. Unless I am standing/lying/sleeping in a sunny spot or outside when it is at least 85 degrees, I am probably cold. As a result, I wear a lot of long sleeve shirts and I keep a zippered sweatshirt jacket at work. (At home, it's my beloved Snuggie. Say what you will about them, they are goddamn warm.) The unfortunate side effect is that I rarely get to show off my tattoos.

Right this minute, I have three tattoos. There is a panther on the right side of my lower back, a shooting star on my left arm, and Silvermist on my right arm. Sadly, I don't have decent pictures of them. I promise that if I win this contest (more on that in a bit) I'll post tons of pictures of them.

The shooting star was the very first tattoo I got way back when I was in college. A friend of mine wanted some company while she got her nipple pierced. While I couldn't bring myself to do that, I could manage a tiny star tattoo. Call it the beginning of my rebellious phase. I thought my mother would be mortified. Her actual response? "At least you're not pregnant." Thanks, Mom.

I got the panther while I was living on my own for the very first time (no, living in a college dorm does not count as 'on your own.') in North Carolina. It was a very lonely time. Panthers are my favorite animal and I kinda needed someone to watch my back so there he is. For the record, it's actually only the outline of a panther. He's big enough that his head rests on my spine while his tail wraps up around my lower ribs. Needless to say, it was my most painful tattoo ever. I couldn't sit still long enough for the artist to finish. He kicked me out after the outline was finished and told me to come back for the coloring. I never went back.

Finally, Silvermist. This tattoo is in honor of my daughter. She is named after Morgan le Fay from the King Arthur legend. Morgan le Fay translates to Morgan of the Fairies, hence a fairy tattoo. My daughter picked out the design herself. It is my favorite tattoo and I look at it almost daily.

One of the local radio stations is running a tattoo contest. The tattoo with the most votes wins a $1000 gift certificate to a local tattoo shop. I would absolutely love to win this. I am begging everyone to vote for me as many times as possible. You can vote once per day and the contest ends April 1 at midnight. Spread the word and ask your friends to vote for me too. If I win, I will take tons of pictures - both of my current tattoos and the new ones I'd be getting. (If the artist lets me, I'll take pictures while he's inking me up.)

Here is the direct link to my tattoo.

Please vote and ask your friends to vote. The tattooed freak inside of me will love you forever if you do.

Where My Jealousy Rears Its Ugly Head

I really wasn't going to talk about this. Mostly because it's pretty embarrassing on my part. But if I don't get this stuff out of my head, it'll just fester there until something awful happens. *sigh*

Let me start off with this: My current life is not awful. I have a loving husband, my daughter is absolutely amazing, we are finally to the point that we are not drowning in debt, and things are just not bad.

However.

My younger sister somehow magically makes awesome things happen to her. I have no idea how she does it and I really want this superpower. For example: despite being unemployed (she's doing an unpaid internship right now), she is spending this week in the Dominican Republic. Both my husband and I are gainfully employed full time, yet it is unlikely that we will ever afford to leave the United States for vacation.

How does she do this, you ask?

For the past few years, she has been living rent-free in a cousin's house. Said cousin was sent to China for work; my sister's lease was coming due around that time. So my sister moved into his house. She pays for things like cable television and possibly the internet connection. As a result, for the past five years or so, her entire pile of monthly bills totals less than one month of my mortgage payment.

This makes me insanely jealous.

I have never left the country. No, I'm not counting the trip to Canada my parents made when I was a year old. However, the cousin has flown my sister to Spain, China, England, Germany, and I think Italy. And when I think about it too much, the situation brings tears to my eyes. I would love to travel and see the world. It's just not going to happen and I have to figure out a way to live with my sister's jet-setting ways while I sit in my windowless office at work.

Any suggestions?

Everybody Sucks...Sometimes

Wow. It has actually been over a week since my last post. While I know that officially makes me suck, I do have a bit of an explanation for this. As stated in my last post, I purchased a new scanner. Well, a new printer/fax/copier/scanner. The idea was that now that I have a functional scanner, I can scan childhood pictures to share with you all. (No, I was not planning on making fun of the stupid things my sister has done. And you can't prove it.) However, my mother has not given up the childhood photobooks. I know she has them. She is just procrastinating on the actual giving of them. Yeah, she sucks too.

Since I haven't actually had to have any real social contact with people outside my immediate family, I haven't even had any stories (interesting or otherwise) to tell. I suppose I could try to dig up an old story and leave out the pictures. But, really, I know you are all here to see pictures of me falling off of horses or my sister sledding in the summer.

I'll lean on my mother a bit harder. She'll give up the photos eventually.

Decision: ACCOMPLISHED

Because this blog is meant to help me be less of a wacko, when I realized that it had been three days since I talked about my lack of decision-making skills, I made the decision to use my Christmas gift card to buy a new scanner today. After a somewhat quick perusal of Walmart's website, I selected the HP Officejet 4500 All-in-One printer. Then I took an extended lunch break and picked the damn thing up.

Yes. Yes, I do.

Of course, this story wouldn't be nearly as much fun if the transaction really went that easily.

I trekked my way back to the electronics department, in search of the elusive scanner-printer-faxer-copier. (Faxer should totally be a word.) While I was slightly distracted by the sound systems (because I also need a new speaker system for my fitness classes), I managed to find the printers by myself without a ton of trouble. The trouble began when I noticed that the 4500 on the shelves did not say it was wireless. Wireless is important in our cluttered household. It was also about $30 cheaper. Hrm. So I pulled it off the shelf to go ask the man at the counter. (Note: I hate asking employees questions. I try to know as much about what I want so I can pluck it off the shelf, pay for it, and leave with as little conversation as possible.)

The poor man at the counter was almost there by himself (there was a woman who didn't seem particularly interested in working) and there were three other people there to ask him questions. Normally, I would say "forget it" and go home empty-handed. Not today, my friends. Not today. I waited a little while until he wasn't as busy. As the very nice man tried to figure out what was going on, he was interrupted by some guy asking when their next shipment of pre-paid phones was arriving. I gave the man a little glare, but Nice Walmart Man handled the situation better. He answered the man's question as he typed my printer information into his computer.

But the computer still said the wireless printer should be where it was not. Walmart Man declared he would check "In The Back." I've worked retail. I know that usually means you are going to go into the breakroom and read a training poster or something. However, Walmart Man returned with my desired product!

Yay, Mr. Walmart Man!

And now I have returned to my desk, happily knowing that I have truly made a decision. The next obstacle? Getting my husband to set it up.

The Art of the Non-Decision

I have a very difficult time making decisions. What if the choice I make is wrong? What if I end up regretting it FOREVER?

Yes, it will change everything.

No, I am not exaggerating. I frequently fret about things for an extremely long time.

For example: About 12 years ago, my aunt asked me to babysit her kids for a week. Since I didn't have a job at that point, it wasn't a problem. She paid me well for it. When her ex-husband came up pick up the kids at the end of the week, he gave me more money. I figured the two of them had talked about it and decided that, since I was poor and jobless, they would pay me a bit extra for watching two kids for five whole days. Alas, I was incorrect. I got a phone call from my mother a few days later telling me how disappointed my aunt was that I took the second offering of money. As a result, I had to give the money back. (I was lucky enough to have landed a job by this point.) To this day, I worry that my aunt still thinks I'm a bad person for taking the offered money.

And yes, I do know how ridiculous that sounds. I'm sure that, twelve years later, she has forgotten all about it. But that doesn't matter to my messed up brain. Every time I see her, I wait for the venomous comments to arise.

You suck.

Anyway, this is just an example of the reasoning behind why I can't make a decision properly. Right now, I want to buy a new scanner. Our current one is so old, it doesn't even work with our computer drivers any more. So a new one is necessary. However, I also need more fitness clothes since I will be teaching five dance-fitness classes each week beginning in April. I have a $50 gift certificate that my in-laws gave me for Christmas that I haven't used because I can't decide which would be better to purchase.

This is me every single day.

Maybe I should just hire someone to make decisions for me. Though that would require making a decision on who will make my decisions.....it is an endless loop of angst.