Suburban Goddess

“Dear God!  What is that SMELL?”

“Hmmm… cheese.”

“Cheese?  What kind of cheese is that??”

“The kind that was milk a few days ago….”

Last night somewhere around midnight, my phone rang.  I have a customized ringtone for my mother, so I was immediately jolted out of my deep sleep thinking that something might be wrong with my father.

“Hello?”  I said, disoriented.

“Hey!  Are you awake?”

“Ugh… (midnight speak for, “um, NO”)

“I think I just messed something up.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, I was commenting on your Chronicle blog and I though it would ask me to register, but it didn’t, and the comment went straight through and put your picture up next to it.”

“What?”

“Did I wake you?  Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, Ma… it’s no big deal.”

“Your picture is next to my comment.”

“It’s okay, Mom.  You’re probably still signed in under my profile; I forgot I posted from your computer while I was down there.”

“Oh.  Did I mess something up?”

“No…. ”

“Oh.  Okay.  Go back to sleep.”

The phone slid from my hands as my head fell back into the pillow.  When I awoke this morning, I went to check the damage.  I couldn’t help but laugh… there it was, Mom’s sage words of wisdom next to my little Smurf picture. But the thing that made me the most proud was this:

She left the Caps Lock off.  Yea, Mom!

We’re making progress.

More people dying needlessly.

Is universal healthcare the answer?  I don’t know.  What I do know is that in America, there is a value placed on human life, and if you don’t have a substantial bank account, you’re going to die.

We are some of the luckiest people on the planet… supposedly some of the most civilized as well… I understand that the rest of our world needs our help, but we’re not taking care of the people HERE.

Can we take care of business at HOME, first?

Please?

(Last whiney post for a while,  I promise!  I’ll go drink some coffee or something. But this issue makes me CRAZY.)

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. Just a generalized case of funkiness, I guess.”

“Some people pay good money for funkiness.”

“Some people pay good money to get RID of funkiness, too.”

“Did you talk to your therapist?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, I’m completely sane. No happy pills for me.”

“There’s always Canada….”

“Naw… my luck they’d be laced with something and then I’d be certifiably insane.”

“I thought that’s what you were going for!”

“No, just a LITTLE crazy, not Girl Interrupted….”

“Maybe it’s the full moon.”

“THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT!!!”

It’s been a generally funky weekend… and when I say funky, I’m not talking in a brick house sense…

A couple of things went down making me question my judgment in people again; obviously, I’m not a very good judge of character.  I was horribly betrayed by someone who was supposed to be my friend, which disappointed me in ways I cannot begin to describe. The situation that they put me in screwed up other parts of my life, which now have a strained, uneasy, anxious feel about them.  In fact, the anxiousness of everything is starting to become overwhelming.

I know that stress can manifest itself into physical symptoms, and I’m afraid I’m starting to see some of them.  The insomnia is ridiculous these days; I feel like I haven’t slept in over a year. Occasionally I’ll have a pain in my chest that is so sharp that it takes my breath away… reflux, perhaps.

There’s a doctor’s appointment in my near future.

The fact is, I know there are things I just have to let go.  It’s so easy for others to tell me that, but they don’t understand.  I don’t hang on to these things because I LIKE the stress they cause; they’ve just become part of my personality.  I’ve had the rug pulled out from beneath me so much that I’m constantly looking down, standing on my toes, poised to jump when necessary in the hope that my entire world won’t come crashing down again.

You pick up the pieces so many times that you start to wonder, why bother?  And then you just live in the mess because you’re too damn tired to pick it all up again.

Tired.  That’s the perfect adjective at the moment.  I’m just so tired.  Tired of lies, tired of betrayal, tired of waiting, tired of working, tired of anxiety…. I just need a moment of peace.

Tonight, Alex & I laid here in bed for over an hour.  She would choose a song, and as we sang it together, I would draw the main character of the song on her MagnaDoodle.  Looking at her now, fast asleep with her Baby Jaguar and Nanook tucked in next to her, I want to cry.  Part of me is jealous of that peaceful sleep.  Part of me is proud, because I know she feels secure enough to sleep like that so that means I must be doing okay as a mom.

Part of me just longs for easier days.  I’m having trouble finding the sunshine today.

OMC is down at the Bridal Extravaganza this weekend… if you’re getting married anytime soon and need a photographer, please stop by and give us a shout.

BTW, tell my partners you heard about it here…. it’ll make me look good!

“You know what your problem is?”

“If I say yes, can we avoid this conversation?”

“Seriously!”

“Seriously!  I don’t have enough minutes on my cell plan!”

“I thought you had the unlimited package…”

“I do!”

(sigh)  “Just forget it.”

Yesterday I decided to stop by the AT&T store to check on my contract and look into a new phone. I love my Blackjack, but ever since an unfortunate incident with a rainy day and a puddle, it’s features have started to get, well, let’s say, “unreliable.”

By the way, do you know about the red dot inside your phone? The one that turns red if you get it wet so the wireless manufacturers don’t have to uphold your warranty? Strangely enough, my phone didn’t have one. Imagine that.

That didn’t matter, because the moment I walked into the store I felt an undeniable pull from a certain white kiosk… but I fought the urge. (Don’t look directly at it! Don’t make eye contact!) I walked to the opposite wall, pulling down the second generation of my current phone. I’ve grown quite attached to my phone (as many of you like to point out) but one of my biggest complaints is that the buttons are so doggone small. The new version didn’t change that… so I started looking at the AT&T Tilt.

As a designer, I love simplicity. As a tech geek, I love functionality. This phone was pretty cool, lots of features, touch screen, slide out keyboard… but the little gray apple in the corner was calling me.

“You know you want me.”

“No. I will not give in. I will not have one just for trends’ sake.”

“But I’m not a trend to YOU… look, I have a Mac OS…. sure, the Tilt is cool, but underneath, it’s still WINDOWS.”

“Shut up.” I turned my back to the kiosk, looking up my blog on the Tilt. One of the main reasons I have a data phone is so that I can blog from anywhere. It displayed nicely (although I’m going to have to adjust the design because I forget about the emerging power of smartphones). I logged into the blog interface, and tested the typing feature. Smooth. Easy. I liked it.

“But it’s WINDOWS!”

“SHUT UP!”

“WINDOWS!”

I set the Tilt down and wandered around while I waited my turn. I listened as people discussed their phone bills, talked about upgrading their packages, discovered new features on their phones…. I wandered past the Bluetooth headset displays, the various phone accessories…. when I felt my feet turn slightly.

“No. Don’t you walk over there.”

“Just come see.”

“NO. DO NOT GO OVER THERE.”

“Just a little peek. A peek won’t hurt.”

“NO! NO! NO! WHERE ARE YOU GO-”

But it was too late. My feet were not listening to me, and I found myself in front of the beautiful, simple white kiosk. Thank you, Apple, for making white space cool again. From the bottom of my little black designer heart…

For a moment, I kept my eyes closed. Don’t look. Like Sodam and Gomorrah… I will turn to salt. I will turn to salt. I will turn to salt. Don’t look. DON’T LOOK!

But I looked.

The phone sat quietly in it’s cradle. No words now. Just me & the phone. It’s simple, smooth screen, the polished surface, unmarred by primitive buttons and awkward dials. The simple, bright, colorful icons, a symphony of simplicity and design… so pretty…. I reached out slowly, every fiber of my being crying out while I did – NO! NO! NO! – but it was too late. It held me in it’s invisible grasp, inexplicably drawn to it’s simple beauty…

The moment I picked it up, it was all over.

SOLD.

So much for “lead me not into temptation…”

While driving home with my carpooler the other day, she mentioned one of my past posts.

“Yeah, I read that post about cell phones and I’m like, WHATEVER!”

“What do you mean?”

“How you hate when people pull it out while you’re trying to have a conversation-”

(cell rings)

I looked down with a pained expression. She looked at me with a huge smile. My fingers snaked down uncontrollably as I flipped my phone over to see who was calling.

“Can I answer this?  Please?  Just long enough to tell him I’ll call him back…”

“HA!  BLOG ABOUT THAT!”

The other day, my Blackjack buzzed with an email message.

“You have a new message on Facebook.”

I opened the email, and was completely surprised by the sender. It was Chip’s first ex-wife.

When I met Chip, we were simultaneously going through our first divorces. In a bizarre twist of fate, our court dates coincided, and we were both officially divorced on the same day. I’m not sure how soon after his separation from the first wife that he started shopping for his second, but judging from what I’ve seen lately, I’m guessing he didn’t wait long.

In the beginning, he & his X were very close. They lived in the same neighborhood (he said for the sake of his son, however, I truly believe he never got over his first wife). They even went car shopping together, buying PT Cruisers on the same day.

Strange? I thought so.

As I started to spend more time with him, I would occasionally stay at his house. She would have to drive by in the mornings, and would see my truck parked in front of his house. Of course, she had a problem with that (only now do I truly understand), and in an effort to appease her, I was no longer allowed to park in front of his house. Eventually, this caused a lot of friction…. pretty much the same as, say, NOW. Only now, I’m on the other side, and where he tried to appease her, he basically told me to f*** off.

After a few childish displays, a few arguments, and a lot of not speaking, the two worked things out and came to an understanding. It’s that understanding that I look to now, hoping that he & I can reach that level as well. Someday.

However, there are a lot of things different about our divorce than theirs.

I always loved the Ex-Wife’s kid as my own. He holds a special place in my heart. He’s smart, funny, and a little bit different. It really hurts that I’ve been closed out of his life, but he really seems to like TOW (and that’s one reason I try not to judge her. She obviously cares about the kids, which goes a long way in my book). Eventually, the Ex-Wife saw that I really cared about her child, and the silliness that ensues after a divorce ceased. There was a quiet truce, and life got easier.

I was happy she contacted me; it opened up the hope that maybe I’ll be able to be part of the Ex-Stepkid’s life again. But there was one thing that struck home more than anything when I opened her family picture…

TOW could be her twin sister (minus the boobs).

Coincidence?