Phone, Again

Remember my funny, funny phone? Oh my gosh, has it just been a ton of laughs. At some point, when the people were fiddling with it over and over and insisting that pressing just ONE MORE combination of buttons would fix everything (hint – not.), someone placed the wrong number inside a deep code that sends out my phone’s signature to the heavens. Now, normally, going incognito wouldn’t bother me. I mean, who cares if your vacuum wants to pretend to be a toilet paper holder for a few days? Wouldn’t you? My side table is always masquerading as the trash and I know it likes it that way sometimes. Like a dirrrty vacation. Heck, sometimes I pretend to be a functioning human being.

So, there’s my phone, blipping out its signature to The System, and it’s off by just one number. Not too much, you might think, but enough to be The Wrong Number. Enter Trish. Hello, Trish. We spent many a long day together. You fending off calls and text messages that were meant for me and me trying not to flip my top because my voice mails and texting wouldn’t work? Good Times.

I had thought we were equal in our frustrations. I called Sprint. You called Nextel. We both yelled and cried and pulled our hair out. You got a new phone. And mine was on the way. Phew. Odd that your sister-in-law is named Leah and my kid’s step-mom is named Trish.

But, that was before you got rude with my daughter, who called me but got you through the system screw-up, and thinking it was me, started pouring out her heart about school stuff only to be sternly spoken to. She entered the Twilight Zone for a second and it left her a little off all day. I have to say that if your child, although I doubt very much you are a mother, called me, I would not have yelled and made her feel terrible because she is a KID who started the conversation with Hey MOM no matter how frustrated I was. Can I get an amen?

Anyhoo, I got my new phone. This new phone has no static. It also doesn’t have some of the same ring tones and alert sounds, which I don’t understand since supposedly it is the same phone. This has created an environment where I do not understand and cannot relate to my phone. I don’t recognize it, even after programming it as close to the old one as possible. I’m not even as competent as the penguins that find their children months later by listening to their cries. I hear blipping and bleeping and odd trailing whoo-de-dooing and I look around, blaming the remote or the camera or a stray sock.

My new phone also does not call Trish anymore when I call my voice mail. Nope. On the way home from the very inconvenient and very far away official technical phone fixing office, I checked my voice mail. I just wanted to be sure. I hit the 1 and enter and it promptly called Jeff. Hi Jeff.

Emotions

I’m slowly losing it. I feel isolated, worthless, sad and confused. Since I am surrounded, now more than ever, by people that love me, it would seem to be out of place. Logically I know that. And I’m so tired of this train of thought I could throw up.

The mind is such an odd thing. I can tell my mind what it should be doing and tell my body how I should be feeling and it makes no difference. No difference at all.

I feel like no one cares about me and then I see my mom’s number come up on my cell phone three times in five hours but I don’t answer. I burst into tears just looking at her name on the display and I don’t want to scare her with my completely random weeping so I wait a few hours until I can manage a Hello and a How are you and mostly the Things are fine without tears. And then my son calls, asking me to make some adjustments to his suit. It would be so easy to ask him to come over and spend some time with me as I measure and sew. But, I don’t. I cry quietly to myself and tell him it’s fine to just drop the suit off in the morning on the way to school. Because by this time, after the better part of two days, I’m in no condition to see any of my kids, with my red eyes and puffy face and never-ending tears, especially the child that needs stability more than the others. If there is one thing I’m not exuding, it’s stability.

I look around the house and remark to myself how little I’ve accomplished in the past two days. Joe likes to say it’s because I’m being more of a mom, running more errands with them, giving them rides here and there and generally being more available, while wearing dark sunglasses. But in my heart I know that the reason the office is still entirely in boxes and the closet upstairs has shelves completely empty after a week is because I can’t manage to do much more than look around me and cry.

This week, the one thing I will do, is see the doctor about my thyroid dose. If that isn’t the issue, I may seriously need a trip to Hawaii or Australia. However, I hear that no matter where you go, there you are. So that wouldn’t solve anything.

Karaoke Etc.

Alex and her friends have been trying to go to this karaoke place for weeks. Something always happens like boys, other friends, family or bad hair. But, last night at 5pm, Alex said, ‘We’re going!” At 6:15, she said, ‘We aren’t going anymore.” At 7:00pm, she stated “We’re SO going!!” Then she went over to her dad’s for a couple of hours, called to say she changed her mind and they were staying in. At 9:05, she came over, all dressed up and announced that not only were we going, we were going NOW.

The karaoke SLASH pizza joint was almost empty but for the people that worked there, the woman (who sang a lot of Melissa Etheridge*) with her two girls (Who sang a lot of obscure-to-me Disney music from Mulan and that native American one with the river in it) that runs the karaoke machine on Saturday nights, and a lady who watched her daughter sing Don Quixote three times with such admiration that it makes me really wonder what’s wrong with me. If Alex sang Don Quixote more than once I think I might have ripped the microphone out of her hands. I think even once would have been too many times. The screaming and AyAyAying at the end……I prefer Like A Virgin. To counteract all the Don Quixote and angry lesbian songs in the air, Alex and I sang Love Will Keep Us Together and I tried to eat the microphone.

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There is so much more I could say about Saturday night and the odd peoples that populate that pizza place, but instead let me just say that we’ll be going back at our earliest opening. It was that much fun.

Also, our new place came with these:

roses2 copy

And I brought one of my own:

rose copy

And there is a lawn of sorts:

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*Isn’t it weird that the entire staff and the lady running the machine were all in the singing rotation? It just seemed like, as we were running out of time and there was no more room on the list for new songs to be added, that they would have let the paying customers have more turns. Or is that wrong? Who am I to get in the way of more Don Quixote?

Dinner With Grace

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Grace told me a few weeks ago she was going to David Sedaris and I begged and pleaded to go with her. Mr. Sedaris was going to be appearing in Santa Barbara with the wonderful Sarah Vowell and it was all just too much to bear: Grace, Sedaris, Vowell, all within my grasp only a hop skip and a jump away. The wonderful woman that she is, Grace graciously (get it??) allowed Joe and I to come along. Eden was there as was her friend Jennifer. Also, Grace’s daughter, Jenn, and her boyfriend, who’s name I’ve forgotten. (That’s how great of a friend I am. Invite me again!)

Dinner was lovely. There was wine.

Sedaris and Vowell were hysterical but dinner was better.

Found

We’re finally, mostly, for sho moved in. What that really means is that all the furniture and boxes are in one house instead of two. The garage is almost solely a storage unit, but there is a tiny aisle you can walk through if you have balls of steel and don’t mind heavy boxes of books falling on your toes.

After so many days of strenuous physical labor, today was quite light. I’ve just been walking around the house placing things here and there. Moving a pile from one side to the other. Picking up a stack from one room and sticking it on a table in that one. The kitchen is almost really done. I found most of what should be in there but somewhere under piles of cardboard boxes full of cables and cleaning products and shoes there is a box of plates. Until I find it, I hope you washed your hands real well since you’ll be holding all your food between your interlaced fingers.

I did find the coffee maker, though. And the bean grinder, which I almost didn’t need since my teeth have been doing just fine. I also found about 25 jars that once held jam, mayonnaise, olives and probably pickled pigs feet for all I know. 25 jars that Joe saved after they were empty because he can use them again for SOMETHING. 25 jars that sat in the cupboard until I got the chance to throw them away. 25 jars with lids, carefully and lovingly wrapped in paper and bubble wrap by my daughter, her friend and her cousin. Two boxes worth. I can just picture them in the kitchen (while I was upstairs rolling bedspreads and sheets into one giant taco roll and tossing it over the balcony) encouraging each other to make sure and take enough of the $115/yard bubble wrap to carefully enclose each and every beautiful inch of the jar that once held creamy white waves of mayo. So we could carry the boxes into the truck. And move them. And carry them again. And unpack them. And then throw them away. Or better, pack them up again and haul them to Goodwill. Didn’t you just say the other day that you wanted 25 used jars? Some still have the labels on them.

But every once in awhile, while rummaging for socks or toilet paper or hand soap or fingernail polish remover (JUST GO TO THE DOLLAR STORE AND BUY NEW!!! IT’S FASTER!!) you find something really important. Something that will make every day from now on so much better. Thanks goodness.

darth pez

New/Old, Whatever. Just Get Me Some Coffee.

In case you were wondering, downsizing from a huge house to one half as big sucks. Now you know. You’re welcome.

Here is the old entry way:

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And here is the new entry:

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Tiny new living room:

livingroom_new

Here is the old kitchen:

kitchen_old

And the new one:

kitchen_new

I’m going to miss our old huge bathroom. But being a few blocks away from where my ex lives saves everyone a huge amount of time and gas. We’re also close to their schools. As soon as I find my makeup, the iron, my comfortable shoes, the coffeemaker and my anti-psychotic medication, things are going to be fine.

Zero Boxes

If you call me right now – and you should! Call me right now! – then I’d hear, ‘Lea-KKSSHHHHH-tha-KKSSHHHHH-on-KKSSHHHHH-righ-KKSSHHHHH.’ Because for some reason, which no one can ascertain, on incoming calls, there is hella amounts of static which makes it impossible for me to hear all the nice things you are saying about my hair. You, on the other hand, would hear only my melodious voice asking and then yelling, ‘Huh? What was that? WHAT?? I’ll call you right back. Hang on.’ And let me tell you, that does NOT get old. This does not apply to outgoing calls where the static is down by 2/3rds and I can, in fact, hear you compliment my hiney in these jeans with just a few KKSSHHHHHs mixed in.

I was the first one to try and fix my phone. I looked at it. Studied it. Shook it a little from side to side. Turned it off and on. Looked at it really hard AGAIN and remarkably, nothing changed. Then Joe took a stab at it. He actually did things that seemed like they should work and sat on hold and then talked with customer service for 30 minutes while they walked him through all the things they could think of to do. Sadly, noting worked. During that process they had him reset the phone to factory settings which replaced all my rings and alarms and stuff, most of which I didn’t even realize I had customized, so now every time my phone rings I jump or don’t even realize it’s mine. Also? the number that is coded into the phone for auto-dialing my voice mail, yes, that would be my own cell phone number, is wrong. I called someone named Trish in San Diego, twice in 30 seconds, before I realized what was happening. I thought I had just missdialed, uh, hitting the number 1. Twice in a row. GOOD TIMES! (Sorry, Trish.)

When I took the phone into the local Sprint office, they couldn’t help me. They just SELL the phones there, silly. So they gave me directions to the Fix It Store. My guess – Sprint and Nextel combined to create phones that don’t work and office buildings far, far away from me.

I took it out to the Cell Phone Fixin’ store which is neither convenient or inviting and is placed in one of the worst looking abandoned areas I’ve seen since my small stint in Florida a million years ago. I’m not sure why I have to drive 30 miles out of my way to get my phone fixed, the one that I pay extra each month to insure for just this event. I have learned a few things since dropping my old phone in the toilet. But I feel inconvenienced and ornery. And the directions to the building were WRONG. So, that was fun calling and asking why they weren’t where they were supposed to be. The girl on the phone kind of giggled and said, ‘Ya, we need to fix that.’ Well, you don’t say.

In any case, they don’t sell or promote my phone anymore (I WONDER WHY RATHER LOUDLY IN MY HEAD) and they don’t make a newer model but they do have a very large stock pile somewhere sequestered in the US of A with which the are willing to keep replacing my phone for as long as needed. No matter how many times this happens. And they don’t know why it’s making the noises and why it’s worse when someone calls me, but they sure will replace my phone for ever and ever, amen. Only I have to go back out in a few days to get it since they can’t send it to me.

Also, since I know you want to know, there have been zero boxes packed. Yes, that’s right. Zero. And what is worse is that the panic hasn’t set in yet to make me move in a frenetic, buzzing manner and get things started. In my head? The entire house has been packed and moved about 6 times. In real life? Oh, right. The count was at ZERO BOXES.

Does anyone know how to move lovely, full and happy houseplants from one home to another without harming their long trailing vines?

More Links Sans Segues

Joe got glasses! He looks hot. Now we truly can be Ma and Pa Crawford.

Chuck sports a Bonpron. Find out how to get your own. Join!

spyro4

When I was young, I had this kit. Spirograph was my kind of ‘game’ because I could do it alone and it allowed me to be inside my head. I have tons of fun OCD tendencies. Counting and drawing lines are right up there at the top of the list of things that I can’t help doing. I keep drawing shapes and color combinations because I think they would make spectacular patterns for stuff. And because they make me happy.
More Spiro fun here and here.

Yes, Twitter can be lots of fun. But everything is even more fun with a cat involved. Sockington is my new favorite contact.

Schmutize wrote a poem called Droopy-boobed Lady, Let’s Go Get Some Bacon-wrapped Goat Cheese Together. If you ever wondered what it’s like to have your brain go wacky while on medication withdrawal, this is it.

Do you have a fantasy life? Mine is never as good as these.

Dutch & Wood’s story of going to Greece is wonderful and worth the read.

Also good: The Importance of Gnats by Carbon Press. It will make you miss your Grandparents something fierce.

Joe and I watched every available episode of Making Fiends the other day. Those 3 hours were well spent. Great style and story.

It’s pretty obvious to everyone in this house that my thyroid medication has stopped working. I need to go to the specialist. I didn’t go and have kept putting it off for a variety of reasons, mostly because I feel too busy trying to move. But, in actuality, I’m sitting on the couch crying about how much there is to do and not really doing it. So, I’d say that it might be time to try something new.

The Bigger Question Is

How do we springboard all the righteous indignation, sadness and awareness that has quite rightly resulted from the Virginia Tech incident and zap America into action against longstanding horrific events that have been occurring around our globe for years?

Poser

Tony is at a really fun age right now. You say, ‘Tony, get over there and let me test the light.’ And this is what you get:

vista_tony2vista_tony1vista_tony3
vista_tony4vista_tony5vista_tony6
vista_tony7vista_tony8vista_tony9

I love his sister’s face in some of those. I think she was wondering how far away she could get and how fast.