rant and ramble: a possible case of stockholm syndrome

I’ve been at my new job for a month now and I never thought I’d say this there are things I miss about my old one(s).

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I know, so crazy. Especially after all of the blog posts I’ve written, both in my head and on here, all the tears I’ve shed over shitty situations, letters of complaint I’ve threatened to write, here I am missing the place.

Stockholm Syndrome, anyone?

Seriously though, I guess it wasn’t all bad. Like at most jobs, some days were better than others, some people were easier to deal with but all that mattered was that at the end of every other week, there was a paycheck with my name on it.

It’s taking some time to wrap my head around the fact that I don’t work at the Student Center anymore. I don’t have to go there unless I want to, I won’t see my co-workers unless we bump into each other randomly, like at CVS (we live close to each other, it can happen). Funnily enough, I am totally adjusted to the fact that I never have to be behind the desk at the veterinarian’s office ever again. I guess I was more unhappy there than even I realized.

This post is probably a little more for my sake than anyone else’s since I haven’t written in a private journal in years. I wanted to start one again but then I started this blog. So even though there are things that I would want to talk about publically, this will have to do for now. Basically, this is mainly for posterity’s sake.I’ve never left one job for another before. Anyway, I digress.

stop circling the drain, martina. get on with it.



I miss…

popcorn parties – we had a real popcorn machine for events like movie night. it went unused for a while, but someone bought fresh kernels finally and then it seemed foolish to not use them. Once we popped, we couldn’t stop, especially when my boss wasn’t there.

rapport/talking – don’t get me wrong, we talk at my new job, but no one knows me. we’re a very small office and the people who I work with have been there forever so they know each other very well. I miss having that with my co-workers. It’s weird to work somewhere where no one knows me. My parents also worked at Downstate (that’s where they met!) for a long time so there were some people who knew me since before I was born. Also, there’s very little chatter. Everyone is doing their job. That’s cool, seeing as we’re at work, but can we take a minute to discuss what is in the water over at the Kardashian Kompound and who’s next?

flow of people – at the Student Center (and at the vet’s office, obviously) there was a constant flow of people. I saw hundreds of faces a day. I talked to them, shared a smile, a helping hand. That’s not the case here. It’s refreshing, but not ideal. I love having the phone ring and having it not be someone trying to push their way into a full appointment book, or not having it be someone asking me to do something they are more than capable of doing. The phone doesn’t ring much, but when it does, it’s usually my boss looking for the office manager, which thankfully, is not me.

music – it was a knife through the heart when I asked if I could play music to help me stay focused (and awake) and was told no because the boss and his wife don’t want it on. My desk phone somehow has a radio on it so at least I have the oldies (who now play Backstreet Boys, #geezlouise) station. It’s really not the biggest of deals, but right now I have a lot of down time so it would be nice to chill out with a little Ed Sheeran or Bruno Mars or, when I really need a pick me up, some Disney.


my phone – i’m not really allowed to have my phone out, which is a blessing and a curse. First, I don’t have the WiFi password (I’m not even sure if there is WiFi) and I’m not trying to use all of my data. Second, I think we all could use a few hours of a phone detox. However, I miss scrolling. I miss my quick, but plentiful Instagram breaks #instabreak. I can sneak a peek if I don;t have work in front of me, but I don’t want the temptation of it becoming an issue. My boss was adamant about it when I first met him, so best to not step on any toes right now.

dressing up – my new job is suuuuuuper casual. Like, so casual that my makeup routine has turned into (lots of) mascara and some eyeliner. PERIOD. I’m not complaining because it leaves more time for other morning routines, like praying I hit the Mega and then remembering I never bought a ticket. Could I glam myself up every so often? Sure, but honestly, this job doesn’t call for a (light)smokey eye or a bold lip. Even a sweater dress is a little much. I just bought a black tutu (for God knows what reason) so, I guess my weekends just got a little more upscale.

I don’t have a title for this paragraph but I wanted to add, as if I haven’t said it 95863 times already, I miss my co-workers. Specifically, the ones who worked at the desk with me. They really got me through some tough times, both personally and professionally. They were there for the good ones too. We shared laughs, complaints and lots of cake. I miss the gossip. I’m a feen for that stuff and love the juicy deets. There seems to be a ton yet none at my new job. I find myself thinking about what could be going on over at the Student Center often. I keep thinking that my week is still split between two jobs and that I’ll see everyone soon. It’s a process. I’m working through it. Circling back on a related note, I miss the people I got used to seeing all the time. Downstate students and employees, former students, some of who worked with us. I didn’t get to say goodbye to most of them (it would be impossible) and I kind of wish there was a way I could have.

I don’t miss

being asked to do things that were specifically given to someone else and them taking credit for them.

the public (specifically the people who think it’s right/ fair/ not an issue to speak to the receptionist at their veterinarian’s office like they’re dumb/a piece of shit.)

not having set hours/ getting taken advantage of

not getting paid for taking a day off

working weekends

having to find coverage for my shift

not having the internet

not having my own desk

not having functioning heat/AC

misogynistic asshole managers

being spoken to in general like I’m stupid/incompetent/incapable

feeling like I’m stupid/incompetent/incapable

not feeling appreciated

not feeling like I can’t do anything right

doing grunt work (i’ll happily file papers, alphabetize things, cut ribbons, etc. but why would i be asked to clean the bars you put weights on because they’re rusty and filthy, in front of a room full of men, when you know they’re too heavy/awkward to carry out so that I can accomplish this without it looking highly inappropriate, if you catch my drift, when we have a staff of (male)cleaners that could do it. I don’t mind working, but don’t give me busy work just ’cause. or because my being there needs to be “justified”)

speaking of… being told my being at work needed to be “justified” and then not having anything for me to do.

being asked “what are you working on?” and when I answer nothing right now, being asked to do 16 things you, as the assistant director, were supposed to have done already or being asked to do something you, as a man, should do yourself and not ask me, as a woman, to do. (I’m all for equality – 100%, here for it. But, when a man tells a woman to do *insert task that i have now forgotten what was barked at me* and then says, not sarcastically, might I add, “are you able to do that? just get it done” (AND THINK THAT THAT’S OK) he can, quite frankly, go fuck himself do it himself, amirite?

Clearly, I have/had a few issues. Listen, working, in general, isn’t ideal. I really like my new job, but see how fast I’m out of there if I hit the Mega. It’s just nice to get up and not want to go to work because it’s work or it’s Monday or whatever and not because there’s a pit of dread in your stomach because you don’t know what to expect for the day. Or because you just don’t want have to deal with the bullshit. Maybe it will come to that. Maybe not. Right now I’m content. Now if only my love life could catch up.



memories of Mary

I don’t know how to start this without going full depressive on you guys so just bear with me. Yesterday marked 16 years since my grandma passed away. It was in the back of my mind all day and I waffled back and forth if I wanted to write anything. Some things are just personal, ya know?

Anyway, she’s gone 16 years which means I’ve known life without her longer than I knew life with her. (sorry, that went a little heavier than i anticipated). Luckily, the 13 years I did get with her provided me with so many memories.

Like the time when I was about 9 and my cousin was about 7 and we had a sleepover at Grandma Mary’s house. My grandmother was a night owl. She used to stay up late and get up late. In the morning, we decided that we weren’t going to eat the cereal that was left out for us. Nope. We decided that we needed to make pancakes. We were flipping our first cake over, and thought we were in the clear, when my grandmother stormed into the kitchen, hours before she should have been up. She yelled at us for using the stove without her, that it was dangerous. We tried to tell her we had it under control, but we knew we weren’t getting away with this one. It was the first and last time any of us got yelled at by her. To this day, my cousin and I say that those were the worst pancakes we’ve ever eaten.

Or when I would spend quality alone time with her. We would walk over to the shopping center near her house. We would get a slice of grandma (fresh tomato, fresh mozzarella, and fresh garlic. omgggg) pizza and a Cappuccino Blast from Baskin Robbins. We’d sit at her dining room table, the right way – faced front, knees under the table, eating and talking.


She loved Mallomars and Chinese food. not together, of course.

She wouldn’t drink coffee from a styrofoam cup because it made the coffee”taste different” so she carried a real mug in her purse, just in case.

She had this thing about not being able to watch shows where she felt the main character was ugly. For example, she wouldn’t watch Law and Order SVU because of Mariska Hargitay. My mom can’t watch Giada DeLaurentis for the same reason (“her mouth. there’s something off about her mouth and i can’t watch her!“)

I could still hear her saying “oh. what a sin” when something was unfortunate. Like, Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds dying a day apart:  ohhh. *sigh* what a sin *shakes head*

When she gave THE LOOK, the world stopped. THE LOOK means business. Luckily for me and my cousins, she passed it down to my mom and her siblings.

She was feisty, our own little Sophia Petrillo. One of my favorite memories of my grandma goes like this. When I was in elementary school, if the weather was bad or if it was too cold for us to be outside, we were dropped off in the school’s auditorium. My mom needed my grandma to take me to school for a few days, for whatever reason. The door of the auditorium was manned by one of the moms from the PTA who took no shit (i would be in so much trouble for using that word) guff. You dropped your kid off, waved and left. #byefelicia. I was a nervous kid and liked to look back to see if my mom was still there. She never was because the door mom would ask her to leave after I was with my class. The first day my grandmother dropped me off, I looked back once and she was still there, waving and smiling. I looked back again and saw her little head looking for me over the crowds. We made eye contact and she waved. She was able to stay until we were taken to our classroom by our teacher. I don’t know how she did it but I like to imagine that she either told the door mom that she wasn’t leaving or she found a space where she went unnoticed, making her totally able to buck the system.


She was an excellent cook. My mom has almost perfected her eggplant parmigiana. I say almost because hers will never be my grandma’s and mine will never be my mom’s.

She liked The Price is Right. Plinko was her favorite game. They don’t play it often, but if I catch it when they do, it makes me smile.

She hated surprise parties if they were thrown in her honor. My mom threw her one for her 60th birthday and she didn’t speak to her for a month afterward. I told you-  feisty.

As I get older and as they get older, I see A LOT of my grandma in my mom and her siblings. Sometimes it’s a little thing, like how my mom says parlor (i have to get to the beauty paaahla, my hair is a mess!), or when my uncle starts talking to himself and makes thinking noises. Sometimes it’s the feeling in the pit of my stomach when either I get or I see my cousins get THE LOOK. Either way, it always makes me smile.

I sometimes wonder what my life would be like if I got to spend more time with her. I’d probably curse less, know how to cook more. I’d probably do more word search puzzles to unwind while watching Jeopardy, who knows.

To wrap up, I miss this little lady all the time. My mom told me once that after my grandfather died, my grandma went to a bereavement group. They all went around the room saying how as time passes it gets easier. When it was her turn my grandmother told the room that it definitely does not get easier. As a matter of fact, it gets harder. Boy, was she right.

Thanks for listening!


the shack

Yesterday I was scrolling through my reader and came across this post from Kristen over at Peaches and Poppycock. It was just the inspiration I needed. And by inspiration, I mean I’m just going to participate in The Daily Posts photo challenge like she did. Whatever works, right? Life has been kicking me in the crotch lately (there may be a post about it in the distant future, but maybe not) so I need all of the inspo I could get. So, thanks Kristen!

The Daily Post asked us to show a picture of the in-between. The getting there. I wish I could throw a few pictures up of me before and during my quest to lose the 5484897184 pounds I need to before wedding season starts, but that would require more Photoshopping than I have any kind of patience for. Because wedding season or not, I like to eat.


My family had a house on the Jersey Shore (just south of the fist pumpers) for over 50 years. I’d be lying if I said I loved every minute down there. Making friends was hard because most people rent there so they were gone before the waves took your first sandcastle. But there were good times to be had at that house and had them we did. We had to sell it late last year (which again, I may write about down the road). We have since bought another house. It’s close enough to our first one that if we wanted to visit we could. Our new house is great and ready for many memories to be made in it.

For people who are familiar with the area, you’ll know exactly what that is in the picture up there. For those who aren’t familiar, let me introduce you to The Shack. It was house that fishermen used to hang out in when they went out fishing for the day. I don’t think you can tell but it’s standing in the middle of a creek inlet small body of water. It was located right next to the bridge that you crossed to get on to the island. Everybody knew The Shack. When you saw it, you knew you had arrived. It had been abandoned years ago, but it stuck around for a while. It started to get really decrepit and there were rescue efforts up and down the island. Until Hurricane Sandy, that bitch. Now it lives on in the memories of those who waited all winter long to see that little beacon of summer. And at every arts and crafts show- photos of it are best sellers.

the end of an era.

the end of an era.

What reminds you of summer? Or summers of your childhood?

Let’s discuss!


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