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Showing posts from April 12, 2009

RAZR Hell

Before Christmas I was walking around a store, pleasantly paying no particular attention to anything around me while gossiping on my trusted (red) Motorola Razr. Suddenly everything went blue. There it was: the dreaded Bootloader screen. It might as well said, "Your phone has been completely wiped of all software, memory, contacts, and use capabilities. Proceed to your nearest US Cellular where you will quickly become more enraged than you ever thought was possible."

I was told there was nothing they could do. The phone was dead. The only option was a new phone.... B U T - - - my contract wasn't up yet, so a new phone isn't allowed. Huh?! I only had a couple weeks to go, so I decided to forego modern accessibility & convenience and spend the next few weeks roughing it sans cell.

When my self-imposed sentence was up I gleefully skipped all the way to US Cellular: "Howdy-ho, Lovely People of the Cell Gods! I am here to joyfully pick out my new phone!" Forty…

Hidden Talents

I think everyone has a talent. Yes, everyone. Sometimes they're not as obvious as the ability to belt out the National Anthem without making people cringe, or painting works of art with your toes... sometimes talents lie hidden underneath, ready to be unearthed, discovered, revealed to the world.

I happen to have an insane unconscious skill of matching my underwear to whatever color shirt I'm wearing. Now, you may not consider it a talent - I mean, really, how hard is it to match, you might ask. So let me give you some background.

(1) I rarely, if ever, 'decide' my outfit prior to stepping into it.
(2) I usually get dressed in a darkened room (not because I'm uncomfortable with my body, but because I'm usually sleep-dressing and don't want the light to bother my eyes).
(3) I'm usually running at least 15 minutes behind schedule, so there's no time to dawdle picking out the perfect panties to match the shirt I choose.

And yet...

I rush the kids in the car,…

AWARENESS: Living in the moment

How guilty I am of this... I have been taught to believe that strong, independent women can do it all. We multi-task. We get things done!

I check emails while holding a conversation on the phone. Matthew starts talking to me and I walk away to check the mailbox (I can still hear him, I tell myself, but I need to see if there is any mail I need to attend to). I keep calculating checkbook balances while Dotter tells me something - some story, she's cute, happy, with such a sweet smile, and I wonder what her story was about. The Jellybean is telling me about the new girl at school who brags about smoking, I know it's a learning moment, but dinner needs to be made so I interupt and ask her to please take out the large, glass casserole dish on the bottom shelf, "Go on," I say. "I'm listening."

But I know that I'm not. I'm not listening at all. I'm juggling. My mind is whirling a thousand miles an hour with checklists: Dotter needs to take a shower.…