Authentically Bitchy
Since I've been sending out parts of my book to friends and non-friends alike to read, I have realized that someone is inevitably not going to like something. For whatever reason, dislike can and will take the form of a personal attack. (See previous blog post comments.) No one likes to get harsh feedback and especially dislike personal attacks, I have to be okay that it will happen. If I make compromises every time I write something that portrays me as snobby or bitchy or shallow or neurotic, I'm selling myself short because A) I'm not being authentic. Sometimes, I'm authentically bitchy. and B) I'm not painting a well-rounded picture of myself. Sure I meditate every morning so that I can breathe deeply at noon in line at sweetgreen. Still sometimes I freak out on the nail lady.
Like yesterday for instance. I said, "You are not filing them correctly. I'm not happy with how you are filing them."
She said, "I cannot file them the way you want because they are too short."
I said, "Yes you can file them at this length and shorter."
She said, "No I can't."
I said, "Yes you can!"
She said, "No I can't."
At which point she handed me the nail file and said, "Do you want to do it?"
I did it because I was pissed and wanted it right. Me, sitting there filing my own nails in the nail salon. My deep breathing became huffing, and every ounce of mindful patience huffed out of me. I glared up at her. Realizing the horrible irony of doing the job that I am paying someone else to do while I'm paying them made me pissed.
"I can dooooo my own nails. If I wanted to do my own nails, I'd be sitting on my couch watching the fucking Kardashians. I wouldn't be here," I said rudely and dropped the nail file in front of her.
Now I already know the people at the nail salon don't like me. When I go there with my mom, they give me the best person not because I deserve it but because they don't want some poor new girl who can barely speak English to have to put up with my mani/pedi OCD. To be fair, I wasn't used to unskilled nail salon employees. We didn't have them in New York. Many times I can find patience; yesterday was not my finest hour. I realize that the energy I put out there - negative, condescending, rude - influenced the remainder of my manicure, which was atrocious and another lady had to come fix it.
For a a micro-second I felt badly. Then it passed, because every now and then I'm going to lose my temper because I'm quickly shrewd with high expectations. Throughout my week, I do many things to reign it in and tone it down so I can be present and solution-focused for myself, my friends, my employees. What I cannot compromise are my need for efficiency and vigilance. When the two don't match up, it can become a bit of a fire explosion. I can become a bit of a fire explosion. "Firecracker," my employee told me yesterday. Those are the times that make me me.
And what makes me so good in bed.
Emma Dinzebach
Like yesterday for instance. I said, "You are not filing them correctly. I'm not happy with how you are filing them."
She said, "I cannot file them the way you want because they are too short."
I said, "Yes you can file them at this length and shorter."
She said, "No I can't."
I said, "Yes you can!"
She said, "No I can't."
I said, "YES. You. Can." My mom turned at me, astonished by my tone of voice, and gave me a look that said Emma, Stop Being So Mean. "I've been getting my nails done at this length for fifteen years," I said. "You're the only person whose ever said it cannot be done. It can be done. They do it all the time."
At which point she handed me the nail file and said, "Do you want to do it?"
I did it because I was pissed and wanted it right. Me, sitting there filing my own nails in the nail salon. My deep breathing became huffing, and every ounce of mindful patience huffed out of me. I glared up at her. Realizing the horrible irony of doing the job that I am paying someone else to do while I'm paying them made me pissed.
"I can dooooo my own nails. If I wanted to do my own nails, I'd be sitting on my couch watching the fucking Kardashians. I wouldn't be here," I said rudely and dropped the nail file in front of her.
Now I already know the people at the nail salon don't like me. When I go there with my mom, they give me the best person not because I deserve it but because they don't want some poor new girl who can barely speak English to have to put up with my mani/pedi OCD. To be fair, I wasn't used to unskilled nail salon employees. We didn't have them in New York. Many times I can find patience; yesterday was not my finest hour. I realize that the energy I put out there - negative, condescending, rude - influenced the remainder of my manicure, which was atrocious and another lady had to come fix it.
For a a micro-second I felt badly. Then it passed, because every now and then I'm going to lose my temper because I'm quickly shrewd with high expectations. Throughout my week, I do many things to reign it in and tone it down so I can be present and solution-focused for myself, my friends, my employees. What I cannot compromise are my need for efficiency and vigilance. When the two don't match up, it can become a bit of a fire explosion. I can become a bit of a fire explosion. "Firecracker," my employee told me yesterday. Those are the times that make me me.
And what makes me so good in bed.
Emma Dinzebach
Posted by Emma Dinzebach at 2/22/2012 11:22 AM 
Categories: What I Think Now
Tags: Emma Dinzebach Emma Dilemma nail salon disaster meditation sweetgreen sweetlife temper authentically bitchy
Categories: What I Think Now
Tags: Emma Dinzebach Emma Dilemma nail salon disaster meditation sweetgreen sweetlife temper authentically bitchy
You are probably better off exploding than keeping things in but you'd be best off getting to the place eventually where you can be kinder to people and let go of your high expectations. It sounds like you're already on the meditation/eastern philosophy train so I'm sure you'll get there. Becoming more accepting of yourself an then of others will help you out in your dating life too.
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