Post "Send" Regret Syndrome (PSRS)

I would like to take a moment to address a very serious condition I have named Post "Send" Regret Syndrome or PSRS.

Anyone who extensively uses E-mail to keep relationships alive, or, god forbid, to aid in confronting someone when you are too afraid of the face-to-face, probably knows what I'm talking about.

Post "Send" Regret Syndrome has affected millions of people worldwide and is spreading faster and faster as computers take over the world and people slowly lose their ability to accurately calculate cause and effect before pressing that all-or-nothing button...send.

Back in the old days of sending letters via regular post, if you sent something that started to conjure symptoms of PSRS, you could catch a plane to the destination city of your letter, wait on the recipient's street in camo for the mail man to walk by, tackle him unwittingly, spray him with tear gas, tranquilize him, sort through the mail while he's out cold, retrieve the "regretted" item, and promptly catch your return flight home - dignity intact. Now, with messages in mail boxes at the touch of a button - you have no way out! What's done is done, and you will inevitably begin to suffer from PSRS.

PSRS is also a component of Turret's syndrome, which, in some severe cases (such as my own), a person is prompted by uncontrollable inward notions to write down ambigous quotes from Monty Python movies and send them out randomly to people on their E-mail list. I sincerely apologize if any of you have been deeply wounded by my comment that made referance to your mother being a hamster and your father smelling of elderberries. It was very insensitive and I promise to be more original next time (inward notions permitting).

Anyway, for those of you who have suffered from PSRS or are currently suffering from PSRS after accidentally sending your boss the letter that was intended for your new boss (the one you will have when you quit your job in two days), or perhaps sending your Jewish mother the letter that was intended for Oscar Meyer Inc demanding a refund on the oversized pork sausage that you almost chocked to death on - you have my sympathy.

PSRS is not relieved with Tylenol, Advil, Ativan, Valium, or apologies. If you are suffering from PSRS on a regular basis, you should contact your local internet service provider and cancel you high-speed internet connection. I would suggest getting dial-up instead which will undoubtedly prompt you to once again send letters via regular post (which can be intercepted in cases of regret) knowing they will arrive faster than the dial-up connection to your E-mail account.

Together we can survive PSRS, together we can stop the madness.

Anyone interested in starting a wog (walk/jog) for PSRS awareness, please E-mail me your name and number - and if I get that letter intended for your underwear fetish cult leader, I will just forget it ever happened.

Cheers.

Pain Dances - a short poem

Pain dances on my soul with shards of glass in his shoes.

Silently he glides along this dark, secluded stage...

and I am his only audience.

I'm Every Woman

Today I want to post a poem I wrote two months ago, dedicated to a woman I work with. Its about women...how they long to be seen, long to have their beauty and their worth recognized and enjoyed, and most importantly of all, they long to bring beauty to the world around them. I have reflected on this quite frequently this year as I have met many woman who are struggling with the prospect of living out their own femininity.

I believe many women live in the shadow of the desires they made themselves kill, and it is a big shadow, a painful shadow. It is the thing we try to hide or forget about, and it has caused us to take on a cynical natures towards our lives, our bodies, our relationships, and our happiness. We are harder now than ever before, and it's not because we are opressed from the outside, it is because we are repressed on the inside - having to deny or live without so many of our natural feelings, desires, and instincts in order continue being the "free" and "modern" women that we are.

Truth be told, many woman I observe around me are desolate, loveless, lonely, and wondering what to do with their feminity in a world where it is still viciously assaulted from many directions. And men? Relationships? Well, their hearts are so buried and afraid from countless abuses and the hardness that comes with self preservation, they don't feel they have the faintest hope anymore of finding someone they can trust enough to truly love. But, there is still an ache for companionship, and ache to be loved and cherished, for their beauty to be appreciated, and just like roses in a vase, they wait with both their thorns and soft pedals for someone to see the beauty they let themselves give up once upon a time. Hence, a poem:



Just Like Roses

I put my roses on display
so I could see them every day
divinest red against the grey
created just to be that way...beautiful.

And just like roses, so do we
want a man who's heart will choose to see
the treasure that a woman brings
into a life of empty things... is beautiful.

And what of roses hidden well
whose beauty none have seen to tell?
Created to be seen, they wait,
for deeper love with deeper hate...of beautiful.

Oh, lovely roses, you should be seen,
Just like the woman by the stream,
with nothing but a broken dream
and what is left for her to glean...of beautiful.

For you, my sister, are also a rose
Beyond the thorns your softness shows
perhaps not seen by him you chose
let it be YOUR HEART that knows...you are beautiful.

The Starbucks Ultimatum

(I wrote out this little saga a couple days ago and sent it to some friends...thought I'd paste it here too just for fun :)

Okay, so this morning I got in my first official fight with a Starbucks employee. I'm not sure if it was him (well, I'm pretty sure it was him) or me (I'm usually quite perfectly well behaved...don’t laugh), but needless to say, something went awry.

I stopped by the Starbucks a few blocks away from my usual Starbucks, against my better judgement (once you pick a Starbucks you should always be faithful and build up a rapport with current wave of over-caffeinated, over-worked barristas to ensure you get adequate coffee specification compliance and service). I proceeded to order a GRANDE, DARK ROAST COFFEE WITH 1% MILK. Now considering the fact there are about a gazillion people in in this city that order FAR MORE complicated drinks than that, I figured, this is an easy one - not so.

The barrista that handled my drink, a husky, Norweigan-ish looking guy with reddish blonde hair, a beard, and a lackadaisical attitude to boot, asked me if I wanted my milk cold or steamed. After a few seconds of deep inner rumination on his kind and thoughtful steamed vs cold milk proposition, I decided to go with steamed because it sounded warm and comfortable, it conjured up nostalgic Christmas-time memories, and it seemed like my taste buds were "in the mood". They called out my order when it was complete, and I happily went over to the counter after paying $2.86, and grabbed it longingly - looking forward to the moment I would sit down at my desk and take that first glorious, sensual sip. I am the kind of person that is extremely cafe-en-route challenged. I never drink my coffee while walking because it is sure to end in some sort of embarrassing coffee stain or painful burn; hence, I did not taste the coffee before arriving at work 2.5 blocks away. It was then that things changed....dum dum duuuuummmm.

I sat down at my desk, said hello to my groggy morning colleagues, got comfortable, turned on my computer (as per the usual routine), and then took the first sip of my "coffee". Eck!!!!!!! This wasn't coffee, and it wasn't dark, this was (and I say this is a hushed voice)....PLAIN STEAMED MILK!!! Oh, the horror, the HORROR!!!! After a loud gasp and immediate inquiry by all colleagues present re the source of my shock , I shared the horror of my MIA grande dark roast coffee. With some kind encouragement from my equally horrified colleagues, I decided to march back the 2.5 blocks to Starbucks and politely ask for some REAL COFFEE! You just can’t expect a transcriptionist to start listening to butch female polish doctors with last names like Wojtowska and deep husky voices until she has her morning coffee! It isn't done, its inhumane really.

I knew that it was just an innocent mistake (we are born innocent, believe me Adia, we are still innocent...) so I was not intending to be angry with the good fellow, I just wanted to be rid of the frothy bovine effluence and get my dark Yukon dark roast, stat! When I arrived back at Starbucks, about 15 minutes later, I, of course, encountered a line-up of people who were starting to arrive "two-by-two" on the coffee ark just past the not-so-busy-that-you-have-to-wait-in-line Starbuxing hour (5:30 am to 6:30 am). I sighed, knowing that I would have to wait even longer for some caffeine, starting, at this point, to tweak out and feel my eyeballs moving from side-to-side. I waited for about 5 minutes and then it was FINALLY my turn.

I was very polite and sweet and started with the most polite opening statement I could conjure - "I'm sorry to trouble you..." . You see, I am helplessly self-deprecating and sheepish and never like to "assert" myself in matters as insignificant as coffee mix-ups, but I continued on valiantly to explain that I had a big cup of steamed milk when I had, in fact, asked for a big cup of COFFEE. At first his reaction was commendable, the barrista seemed genuinely pained at the trouble he had caused me and the fact that I had to walk all the way back there, and he then proceeded to ask me if I wanted a "London Fog" instead . This confused me and sort of threw me off because I had just finished repeating for the SECOND TIME that I wanted a GRANDE, DARK ROAST COFFEE WITH 1% MILK. I said "NO, just give me a coffee with some 1% milk!". He seemed a little perturbed that I wasn't on board with his "London Fog" idea, and at this point I was starting to get annoyed as well - I had enough fog in my half-asleep brain still desperately needing to be aroused by caffeine, and I didn't need anymore! Why this was an issue for him, I have no clue.

So, as he was getting my drink I looked at the price menu and realized, much to my chagrin, that they had charged me $2.86 for the steamed milk, when the GRANDE COFFEE I had ordered was only $1.97 with tax. I thought that I should probably ask for my 0.89 cent refund, as it was well-deserved considering the circumstances. I told another barrista who was working the till this, and he seemed fine with it and just told me to wait for "the other guy".

When "the other guy" came back over with my brand spankin' new coffee, I asked him, once again very politely, for a refund of the difference between the steamed milk (that I didn't order in the first place) and the plain old grande coffee with 1% milk - not a London Fog a Brazilian Rainstorm or an Oklahoma Hurricaine - just a plain old COFFEE! After asking for a refund, the barrista, again, seemed perturbed and frustrated, and he reached under the "employees only know what is down here" counter and pulled out a "free coupon" , handed it to me and said, "here, just take a free coupon". You see, in most circumstances I wouldn't have minded his "free coupon", because you can get a lot of use out of a free coupon, however, because this guy had been full of attitude and drink suggestions involving fog before 7:00 am, I was not yet a "satisfied customer". I thought about it for a second before walking away with the "not-so-free coupon" and then came to the conclusion that I not only deserved a free coupon, I also deserved a refund of the difference between the wrong order (steamed milk), and the right order (COFFEE!). And so I said it - "Um, are you going to give me my money back. You over-charged me for the coffee, and a 'free coupon' isn't free unless you pay me back the difference!".

Call me bold, call me crazy, but at the time this request seemed logical to me - the barrista, aka "the other guy" did not share my sentiments however, and this is when he gave me the ultimatum, "look, you can take the coupon, or you can take the dollar, but you can't have both, so what will it be?!" I almost wanted to laugh, it was 6:51 am, I was on round two of coffee ordering at Starbucks, and I was getting a STARBUCKS ULTIMATUM! I never thought this day would come...the day I would have to choose between a "not-so-free coupon" and a refund I rightly deserved in Starbucks . Starbuck, Starbucks, Starbucks. Its not just on every corner of every street, its now on every corner of every functioning part of by brain!

Feeling somewhat perturbed myself, and not wanting to continue this battle of the not-yet-caffeinated, I decided to leave - but first, of course, I gave him "the look". You know, "THE look", the one that's supposed the say all of the brilliant and witty things you couldn't think of saying at the moment, then I grabbed my real coffee, and the "not so free coupon" , and left. And now, I have just wasted 45 minutes of work time to talk about it.

The moral of the story is..... sometimes in life if you can’t "have it all" it really isn’t good enough, and I’m the kind of gal who WANTS IT ALL!! Oh yeah, and....DOWN WITH STARBUCKS ! Or at least the one on the corner of Burrard and Smithe in Vancouver, and the barrista known as "the other guy".

I am now drinking my real grande Yukon dark roast, and it was worth every bit of trouble! All I know is that I'm gonna use that "not-so-free" coupon, and make it worth my while!

"Hi, I’d like a Vente lowfat triple guatemalan antigua decaf machiatto with amaretto flavoring and topped with whipped cream and the tiniest dash of freshly grated nutmeg - please".

And just when they thought it was over I’ll come back 15 minutes later and say, "I’m sorry, I ordered a steamed milk!"

Just kidding.

Cheers.

How heavy is the glass of water??

I received this great forward today and I just HAVE to post it because I think that so many people are over-stressed (me being one of them) and GOD has called us to REST. So...just think about it my friends.

A lecturer, when explaining stress management to an audience, raised a glass of water and asked,

"How heavy is this glass of water?"

Answers called out ranged from 20g to 500g.
The lecturer replied,

"The absolute weight doesn't matter.
It depends on how long you try to hold it.
If I hold it for a minute, that's not a problem.
If I hold it for an hour, I'll have an ache in my right arm.
If I hold it for a day, you'll have to call an ambulance.
In each case, it's the same weight, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes."

He continued,

"And that's the way it is with stress management.
If we carry our burdens all the time, sooner or later, as the burden becomes increasingly heavy, we won't be able to carry on. As with the glass of water, you have to put it down for a while and rest before holding it again. When we're refreshed, we can carry on with the burden."

So, moral of the story is before you return home tonight, put the burden of work (or whatever else) down. Don't carry it home. You can pick it up tomorrow. Whatever burdens you're carrying now, let them down for a moment if you can.

Why not take a while to just simply RELAX. Put down anything that may be a burden to you right now. Don't pick it up again until after you've rested a while. Life is short. Enjoy it!

Here are some great ways of dealing with the burdens of life:
* Accept that some days you're the pigeon, and some days you're the statue.
* Always keep your words soft and sweet, just in case you have to eat them.
* Always read stuff that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it.
* Drive carefully. It's not only cars that can be recalled by their maker.
* If you can't be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.
* If you lend someone $20 and never see that person again, it was probably worth it
* Never put both feet in your mouth at the same time, because then you won't have a leg to stand on.
* Nobody cares if you can't dance well. Just get up and dance.
* Since it's the early worm that gets eaten by the bird, sleep late.
* The second mouse gets the cheese.
* When everything's coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.
* Birthdays are good for you. The more you have, the longer you live.
* You may be only one person in the world, but you may also be the world to one person.
* Some mistakes are too much fun to only make once.
* We could learn a lot from crayons...Some are sharp, some are pretty and some are dull. Some have weird names, and all are different colors, but they all have to live in the same box.
*A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.
Have an awesome day !!