"Hilary, The Gigantic Whore", An Extremely Tall Tale

About a week ago, I learned of a rumor that passed through my place of work about me - so I thought, for the people who aren't quite sure of what a rumor is, that I would share the definition of the word:

Main Entry: ¹ru·mor

Pronunciation: \ˈrü-mər\

Function: noun

Etymology: Middle English rumour, from Anglo-French, from Latin rumor clamor, gossip; akin to Old English rēonto lament, Sanskrit rauti he roars

Date: 14th century

1: talk or opinion widely disseminated with no discernible source

2: a statement or report current without known authority for its truth

3 archaic: talk or report of a notable person or event.

Now that we have that settled, on to the greatest story of our time. For those of you who know me, be prepared to laugh. Apparently, I am a giant whore.

I was actually just informed of this. Apparently, people have known this about me since February (I think. The timeline is still a little iffy). Turns out, someone started a rumor about me breaking up a co-workers marriage by having an affair with him. This was, mind you, about 3 weeks after I found out my ex-boyfriend had been cheating on me for about a year, and then broken up with me - so of course, I would then do the exact same thing I was heartbroken over someone doing to me. Duh!

Travis and I broke up in January, after about 5 years of dating. He was my first boyfriend, and my first love. My friend at work was having some problems in his marriage around the same time. A month or so later, when my friend and his wife separated, we began hanging out and talking a little more, because we were both heartbroken, and found solace in each others company. That sense of comfort developed into a pretty great friendship, where in which we were able to help each other heal. I had so many friends offering me love and support, but it was nice having someone at work who was going through a similar emotional roller coaster to just share a look with, and know what the other person was going through - and to know that it was okay to occasionally smile. This, however, translated to some people as something very different. Some of my coworkers took this new friendship to mean that we were sleeping together, and that my friend was cheating on his wife with me.

Does the rumor itself upset me? No. Everyone talks, and everyone gossips. What upsets me is that no one took the time to think or know me well enough to know that I would never in a million years do anything like this - especially seeing as how cheating is what ended my relationship that, I thought, was heading into a possible permanent thing. Not one person took a step back to think about what might have really been going on - they all just made assumptions. And again, I don't think it would have bothered me so much if it hadn't filtered it's way up to the management, and thereby directly affected my status, position, and reputation at work - all things I was not even aware of until the past 2 weeks. Apparently, according to some of my co-workers, a boy and a girl can't be friends without sex being involved. Who knew?

Basically, I am appalled at peoples ignorance. I didn't talk much about what happened with Travis and I because it hurt me too much - and the same goes for my work friend. It was our desire to keep our personal lives private that got us here - that, and peoples sheer boredom. Luckily, everything has been straightened out - to the people that matter, anyway - and things are looking up. Like, sky rocket high.

I don't think people realize how hurtful gossip and rumors can be. I, for one, am just as guilty as anyone else of gossiping - though I know I've never tried to intentionally create problems for anyone else. I'm not sure what drives people to hurt others - whether it's insecurity, jealously, or just plain boredom - and maybe it's not knowing that makes a person incapable of doing so. I always said that about Travis - I could never understand how he could cheat on me, and lie to me for so long - but maybe it's good that I don't understand it, because without understanding, perhaps I am incapable of doing the same. Maybe the same proves true here.

I will say this: I absolutely believe in karma, and things happening for a reason. I went through a few months of crap, but I'm coming out stronger on the other side, and I'm glad for that. I know who I am, and what I'm capable of. And in the end, isn't that what matters?

Matchmakers at Work - Connecting Lovers Since 2006!

Yesterday, I received a letter. Tonight, I found said letter, and decided that even though it had no labels or markings on it, nor did it hold that pesky return address in the upper left, I would open it. It was so good, I decided to share:

"Matchmakers at Work - Let us reconstruct your love life."

Really? This is the mail I'm getting? Someone out there thought this is what would spark my interest in the dating world? Words of advice, "Matchmakers at Work" - don't open your letter with "Dear Single Friend". I'm not your friend - I don't even know you, and I'm a little concerned as to where you think you know me from. And quite honestly, the name makes it sound like a charity dedicated to helping the homeless find love.

I decided to Google (as I do with everything - note the Pimp-slap vs Bitch-slap entry), and found the best. website. ever. seriously: http://www.matchmakersatwork.com/

Allow me to share some of this glorious (and by glorious, I mean most depressing-kick-you-in-the-knee) letter with you. I have bold faced my favorite parts:

Dear Single Friend,

We are sending you this letter because we at Matchmakers at Work know that wonderful compatible matches don't just fall from the sky. In our busy everyday lives, most people go to work, run a few errands, and come home. The odds of bumping into Mr. or Miss Right within these parameters are slim to none.

At Matchmakers at Work we will do all the work for you. We want you to entrust us to take care of your love life. In order to do so we will need to know your likes, dislikes, hobbies, interests and your dreams for the future. At Matchmakers at Work we say shoot for the moon! Tell us who your ideal mate should be, who do you envision yourself with now, and where do you see yourself in five or ten years from now.

Life is too short to be with out someone who absolutely adores you and you them. We at Matchmakers at Work are confident that we can find that wonderful compatible person who is right for you. We are dedicated to making you happy and helping you find the love of your life.

Please fill out the confidential profile form below and send it back in the prepaid envelope enclosed or contact us directly so that we can start reconstructing your love life today!

Fascinating. And based in Lawrenceville New Jersey? Sign me up! And then shoot me.

Simple Simple Minds

I know it's 4 days past it's importance, but seeing as how it's still relevant, I thought I would share:

Lynette Fromme Released After 34 Years

Who thinks this is an awesome idea?

Moving on. Tonight at work, I was, yet again, amazed at the level of stupidity people can achieve. One of my coworkers asked me what my ethnicity was - and then proceeded to answer the question by saying "Jewish, right?". I think I would be more shocked if this were the first time someone had asked me this question. For sheer entertainment purposes, I will now divulge the conversation that occurred (completely out of the blue, mind you):

Anonymous Coworker: Hey, so like, what ethnicity are you? Like, Jewish?

Me: Um. What?

Anonymous Coworker: You're like, Jewish, right?

Me: "Jewish" is a religion. Like, Christianity, or Catholicism. It's not an ethnicity.

Anonymous Coworker: Oh, okay. So you're from like, where then, Israel, right? 'Cause it's not like, Hebrew.

Me: ...No.

Anonymous Coworker: Oh, okay. So like. You're not Jewish?

Me: No, I am Jewish, but that's my religion. Actually, Israel - which is a country - has a lot of different religions. People from Israel are called "Israeli".

Anonymous Coworker: Oh, okay. So like. Don't all the Jewish people come from there?

Me: ...No.

Anonymous Coworker: So you're not Hebrew?

Me: That's a language.

Anonymous Coworker: Oh okay, cool. So what's your ethnicity?

Me: I'm a mix of a bunch of things.

Anonymous Coworker: So you're not from Israel?

Me: ...Sure.

Amazing.

Always One Foot On The Ground

I added these little fishies at the top of my page over there. If you click on the box somewhere, you can feed them and make them all crazy-like.

The past few days have been really weird - for example:

• Early today when I checked my email, it was all in Hebrew. Really?
• I had an insane dream two nights ago - I was present for a terrorist attack in which all the people affected had to go through this massive anti-radiation machine (I blame the fact that I was watching The Ten right before I went to bed, and saw the vignette with the cat-scan machines), and the side effect was that it turned you purple. Everyone got out okay.
• I have misspelled my name 4 times in the past 3 days.
• My computer moo-ed when I turned it on. Like a cow. Moo.
• I watched Coraline three times. That's not so much weird, as slightly pathetic.

There were other things, but it's almost 2 am and I can't remember them. I should really start writing more things down.

My birthday is in a little more than a month, and I've decided that 24 is going to be a great, great year - and fingers crossed that I'm not jinxing it by mentioning it. 23 kind of sucked, and I think I'm ready to move on. I know changing a number doesn't necessarily mean anything, but I think it will be a really important milestone for me, and I want to make it positive. I need it to be positive. I'm really ready to grow up. I just wish I weren't so darn impatient with myself.

Also, Mia turned 4! Picture sampler...

Mia and her girlfriends

Awesome Whole Foods cake!

Partying is a very serious business

Honestly. Could she be cuter?

She got fishies for her birthday!

Abandoned Beach

If she wants to rock, she rocks, and if she wants to roll, she rolls...

Holy roller coaster of a summer-thus-far, Batman. I don't even really know where to begin or finish or pick up or leave off. In a nut shell? Camp was awesome, as always, the bookstore was frustrating, and Assassins was one of the best shows I've done in a long time.

And at the end of it all? I feel more trapped then before. I'm in a never ending loop. I want to move out of my house, so I work. I try and make and save money, which is why I am living at home (and also because I don't have enough money to quite make it on my own yet). However, my mother insists I pitch in, money wise, because she doesn't make, well, any money at all. So I'm stuck - I work and live at home so I can save, but I can't save because I have to pay for everything (minus rent- although rent may even be cheaper). Not to mention I practically make peanuts at Barnes and Noble. It's a joke. It's insanely frustrating.

I've even started feeling sorry for myself lately, which is so unlike me. It seems as though everyone around me is figuring out their lives, settling down, starting anew, whatever - except for me. I'm not looking for a pity party, I'm not trying to write about how sad I am, or how lonely I feel - I just thought I would be somewhere by now. I thought I would know what I wanted to do, or have found a direction to lead in to, or something. I feel like I'm just floating in nothing. I'm not satisfied with anything, I'm not even content. I'm restless and frustrated all the time, and it's a terrible mix of anxiety and desperation and uneasiness, and it's constant.

I feel like (cue cheesy musical theatre reference) that stupid puppet from Avenue Q, desperately seeking a purpose, specifically my purpose, in whatever it is I'm supposed to do. Maybe I just need to know or hear that this is normal. That it's okay to be almost 24 and unsure of everything. To be still living at home with a desperate want and need for an adult life, a job, and the prospect of a future - and I feel as though I have none of that. I just thought I'd be on my way by now.

I suppose I'm overwhelmed and I don't know quite where to go from here. If everyone else can do it, can everyone else please show me?

I'm reduced to making mac and cheese and curling up on my couch and watching John and Kate Plus Eight. It's a (Daria reference drumroll) sick sad world I'm stuck in.

This Is Beyond Camp College Signs

Alright. I'm going on very little sleep. But this had to be shared.

I have always told stories about campers and customers at the various jobs I have held throughout the years, and no one ever believes me. Therefore, hence, etcetera, I've decided to start writing them down.

Tonight, for example, one of my all time favorite customers was in the store. This woman (let's call her Anne, since I don't know her actual name) comes in at say, 1, maybe 2 in the afternoon, and doesn't leave until closing. Anne pulls about 70 different books from the business section, stacks them all up at a table, reads through some of them taking notes, and then when we close, she gets up and leaves, leaving all the books behind for us to shelve. It should also be noted that she wears a GIANT white sun hat at all times, and sometimes wears sunglasses in the store. Apparently she was asked not to come back to the store a few years ago, but has suddenly begun making appearances again.

There is also the man who comes into the children's section sometimes, walks to the little stage we have, faces the wall, and begins to pray to Allah. I guess the wall is East?

Let's not forget my favorite - we'll call him John (again, I try not to familiarize myself with these people because they freak me out). John comes in to the cafe about once a month. He purchases exactly 4 cupcakes, and 2 sugar cookies. He then sits down with his desserts, and begins to take off all the icing from the 4 cupcakes, and place them on the 2 sugar cookies. He then eats the two cookies, and throws away all 4 cupcakes, sans icing. It's a whole process, really.

Honestly. I could write a book. Camper adventures are soon to come! For example, remind me to tell you about how, today, I spent 15 minutes looking for a campers' wallet she supposedly left at lunch, only for her to say "Oh, I think I left it in my lunch box, I didn't check there" after we walked all over campus. Oy.

ASSASINS - KELSEY THEATRE - FRIDAY JULY 24th - SUNDAY AUGUST 2nd

Seriously. It's awesome, and I use a gun.