Susan’s Journal

I just got home from a long weekend in California. By long I not only mean I was gone for four days, but also it just seemed like a very long time. I’m sure jet lag and driving time helped with that. I just put the kids to bed, and normally I would thankfully crash at this very moment, but I’m going to fight the sleep just a moment longer to try to at least start to describe my weekend.

Basically I had to beg my work to let me take a day and a half off so I could go on this trip. It originally started out as a free trip, with the flight and Thursday night hotel paid for, for me to go to a Beverly Hills event and review some Nokia products. I asked if instead I could fly back Sunday and make a personal four-day trip out of it, and they said sure.

I had to scoot out of work around eleven to make my flight, and it’s convenient that my work is near the airport. It was also convenient that Scott was nice enough to drive me to the airport, and it was even more convenient that I had a direct flight without layovers. I got to the airport and didn’t sit down at the gate for more than ten minutes before they started boarding people on.

I had reserved a National rental car, because besides my Nokia adventures I also planned on spending time with California friends. I got off the National bus at it’s one stop, took a couple escalators up to where the emerald aisle was, got a GPS receiver, and went to pick a car. They had a minivan, a couple Magnums, and a half dozen Prius’s, which is Toyota’s hybrid car. Cool, I thought, I’m going to do a lot of driving, and a Prius would be a great idea. I loaded all my bags into a gold one and got into the driver’s seat.

Where’s the key?

I really didn’t want to look like an idiot, but there was no silver-key-circle in the steering column, and there was nothing dangling from the dash or remotely resembling a key. So like a dumb broad, I had to go back up to the Emerald Aisle attendant I had gotten the GPS from and ask him where the keys were. “They should be in all the cars,” he was saying, as I turned around and noticed that all of the cars had their keys not inside, but on the roof of the driver’s side! Duh.

How do you start it?

That’s right, folks. you don’t turn the friggin key. In fact, there’s not really a “key” at all–no pointy silver thing resembling a key–just a little rectangle black remote keychain box. The guy had to show me what to do–you stick the little black box into a hole in the dash, then you push a POWER button! That doesn’t make the car start, either! You back up (and it won’t stop beeping, which drove me crazy) and then you go forward, and the engine turns on when the car decides it needs it. it was really wacky.

So I plugged in the “lady in the car” (which is what my friends from Argentina call the GPS) and she told me how to get to the hotel. I got there, no problem, checked in, not really a problem (I figured out I had to tell them I was with the group), got my stuff up to my room, no problem… then sat there, alone, for a few minutes, and came unglued. People keep telling me I’m so strong–I’m taking everything so well–but that’s because they’re not there when I lose it, when I cry, when the whole world caves in on me. It happens at random, sometimes convenient and sometimes not, times. I called Scott and talked to him for a while, that didn’t help; and I called his mom and talked to her for a while, that helped a little; then the girl in this picture called from downstairs and said hey, are you coming down to the hotel bar to hang out with us? So I powdered my nose the best I could to try to not look like a crying wreck and headed downstairs to meet a bunch of strangers.

This lady, Donna, was incredibly nice. We had talked in emails but had never met in person. I kind of gave her a little idea what was going on in my life, an dshe told me stories about her own over a drink at the bar that helped me to see that others go through very similar shit I’m going through. It really set me at ease, and made me feel better.

After hanging out with the group for a little while, a shuttle bus came out front of the hotel to take us to the Nokia event. About twenty or thirty of us got on the bus, and all I could think of was Freddy Kruger driving that school bus into the desert–it just seemed like we drove on, and on, and on, and no one on the bus knew exactly where we were going… except the driver.

I have to tell you, after coming from the 90s here in Texas (man it’s good to be home), it was REALLY FRIGGIN COLD in Beverly Hills. I had a short sleeve shirt on, and I froze when I got off that bus. They had little Nokia shuttle-golf-carts take groups of four and six people up to the mansion. One of the guys from the group I had become friends with made a comment about “one of these guys should ovver you their coat”… but none of “those guys” did. Somewhere inside me that said a lot to me; either that or I just take life too seriously.

The event took place in a beautiful mansion carved into a Beverly Hills hillside with a spectacular view of LA. When we walked up to the door, they handed each of us maps, outlining where different things were taking place in the house. I have to admit–the event overall was very different than I expected it to be. It was more like a house party, with live music, drinking, and dancing, than an event showcase.

Of the four or five displays/demos they had set up, the one I stopped to check out was the Nokia N800 device. It’s not a phone–it’s a web-browsing device that uses Wifi. I wasn’t overly impressed, and the girl who was trying to show it to me was having some issues getting it to work correctly. here is a youTube video showing the video calling feature. Really, though, how is this any better than the video calling that I can do with the camera built into my laptop? Without being a phone, I guess I’m just not appreciating the value this device brings to the market.

Now the N95 I can definitely see more uses for, especially in the video blogging arena. Of course we all know Rupert from twittervlog and the great video blog posts he makes right from his phone. At the Nokia event, it seemed like everyone there had an N95… everyone except me.  Maybe someday soon… who knows.

For the rest of the night I ended up spending time with Steve Garfield and Zadi and Steve. We spent more time talking about life in general than Nokia devices, and for me it was just nice to spend time with friends.

The shuttle that took us to the party wasn’t leaving until 12 midnight, so those of us who rode it had to stay until then. There was at least three or four of us who were wiped and jetlagged by eleven, and we just slumped together in piles on couches off the kitchen. They had gift bags for people who had attended the event, and people had been leaving all evening; but because we were the last ones at the event, the twenty or so of us, none of us got a gift bag because they had run out by then. That was a bummer.

I was wiped. I fell asleep on the shuttle bus on the way home and woke up to someone nudging me with a smile. No drool, thankfully. I got off the bus, grumbled about being tired while a bunch of people had to take pictures of the group, then stumbled towards the hotel elevators. Some of the guys were talking about going to get something to eat. They were nuts. I went up to my room and crashed instantly.

Back when we lived in Massachusetts, we built a deck on the front of our house before we moved. While the project itself was a good idea, there were a few measurements I did wrong, mainly because a 2×6 isn’t really two inches by six inches–not exactly. knowledge is power, I suppose. Since it was the first time I had really worked with wood, I had a few things to learn.

I found this cool website called DoItYourself.com that not only has DVDs on how to complete projects, but has tons of forums where people can ask for and get help on how to do household projects or repairs. Since I’m going to be home alone a lot more, it’ll do me good to start poking through here and learn some things about home improvement.

One thing that Scott was going to learn to do was install wood and parquet floors in our new house, on most of the bottom floor of the house, though it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen now. It would be nice to have wood floors, but they’re a lot of money. Doing the grunt work yourself does take a lot of that cost out of it, though; but it also requires a lot of patience… at least from what I know of it. Like most simple homeowners, I’ve seen them do it in the home improvement shows on TV, and they make it look SO easy…

I started writing a blog post earlier. It was about things going on around me, and how I was on the verge of having a “bad day.” Then something incredible happened. God is holding my hand.

I was poking through old blog posts, recovering from the near-disaster in this post, when I came across this old post. There were two songs I was looking for: “Love Will Get You Through Times With No Money” by a band called Girls Next Door, which someone read my blog and sent to me; but no one had a clue about the other song. That blog post is seven years old, so the last time I heard that song was probably ten years ago, before I even got married.

Before I got married, I lived with two or three roomates in a house in Hampton, Virginia. I was in the Air Force, and my roomates were too. Every Sunday afternoon, the local country radio station would play songwriters’ songs–songs that weren’t pop hits, but that the station liked. One of the songs was this one:

Driving down Old Smyrna road
I swear I saw a buffalo
At least that’s what he looked like
From the side of the road
He was big and brown and furry and slow
He didn’t seem to have a care
That buffalo that I just saw standing there
Further down the road a piece
I met Benjamin and Mildred
Working on their garden
In the front lawn that they shared
And they were digging up the annuals
And trimming the perennials
And doing all the things you do
To keep your garden square

It’s just another Summer’s Day
And Lord I am thankful to be here today
Tomorrow may not come at all (well, you never know)
But how I live for Summer Days

In the mornin’ I like to sit outside
And wave to all the passersby
Listenin’ from my front porch swing
To all the carryin’ on
And I hear barkin’ dogs and ridin’ mowers
Children on their bicycles goin’
Down the street and back again
Laughin’ all the while
And in the middle of the afternoon
Construction sounds fill my livin’ room
As the house next door is goin’ up
Faster than we thought
But that won’t stop me from takin’ a nap
On the couch curled up between the cats
‘Cause all this fresh air, sun, and heat
Can be a tiresome thing!

It’s just another Summer’s Day
And Lord I am grateful to be here today
Tomorrow may not come at all (well, you never know)
But how I live for Summer Days

And every night ’bout half past six
As the barbecues are bein’ lit
And the chicken, burgers, hot dog smells
Come waftin’ through the air
We’ll pull out the old croquet set
I’ll be blue and you’ll be red
And just for fun we’ll place a token bet
And you always let me win
Then we’ll see our neighbors, Bruce and Vicki
And they’ll complain that it’s hot and sticky
But we’ll just smile at one another
’Cause we both like it this a-way
And later on I’ll need my sweater
So I can sit outside and still enjoy the weather
Watchin’ as the sun goes down
And the moon comes up again

It’s just another Summer’s Day
And Lord how I’m thankful to be here today
If tomorrow never comes at all well that’s o.k.
’Cause I’m alive for this Summer Day

It’s just another Summer’s Day
And Lord I am thankful to be here today
Tomorrow may not come at all (well, you never know)
But how I live for Summer Days
I just live for Summer Days
I just love these Summer Days!

Whenever that song came on, it would make me so happy… I’d think yaaay and turn it up. I always seemed to be driving, and mp3s weren’t popular back then, nor downloading music… so if it wasn’t on a CD, I wasn’t likely to hear it again. Ten years have gone by, and I never forgot the song. Every now and then, I would try to google a couple of the lyrics I remembered, but I never found anything.

Until today.

I did my google search, not really expecting to find anything, until in the words under the google title of a search result, I saw the lyrics I remembered. I about shit my pants. I quickly clicked on the link (as if it were a mirage and would suddenly vanish), and I was taken to this blog post. Not only did she post all the lyrics to the song, but she also gracefully linked to the website of the artist, Nancy Moran, who actually has a wma of that song posted up there.

You should go give it a listen; because then if you do, you can hear the words in your mind, and close your eyes, and picture that scene she describes, then picture me, sitting at my desk with goosebumps, close to tears, holding my head in my hands, thinking about that frame of time ten years ago, and wondering what the hell has happened since then. That really, really seems like a different person, like a different lifetime from now.

Regardless, that song makes me very, very happy. It will be on my iPhonePod soon.

Well, there you go, folks. It’s the first photo of me with the new hair color. Many of you may be saying, “What?” which means it isn’t that drastic a change; and if you are one of those people, I heave a sigh of relief in your direction. I haven’t colored my hair by myself in a very long time, and I was kind of nervous about it. Not one person at work today said anything, and Scott didn’t notice, so I guess all is right with the world. Somehow, though, my three gray hairs didn’t get colored; either that, or it’s my imagination kicking in again.

I screamed out of work, screamed down the highway, and screamed through the gym so that I could get a workout in before picking up the kids from daycare. (Later on, I told Dylan this story, and he said, “Screaming?”) Scott wasn’t able to pick them up today, and he won’t be tomorrow either, so tomorrow could very likely be a repeat performance of today. When I showed up today, though, Rainlin was sitting off to the side and not playing–the lady there said she hadn’t been feeling well, had been complaining about a headache and upset stomach. My poor baby… I ushered the kidlets into the car, gave Rain my sunglasses, and told her to lean up against the window and close her eyes. She snoozed for the few minutes on the way home, where I woke her up and led her by the hand to the couch. I gave her two meltaway Tylenols to help her headache, and she sucked on them one at a time.

Come to think of it, what happened next was actually kind of funny. She said she didn’t feel good, so I went to the half-bath with her, and we sat on the floor and had a conversation. After our conversation, I told her, well, while you’re in here, you might as well scrub the toilet… she said fine… so I’m no friggin idiot, I got up quietly and got the bottle of blue-toilet-goo stuff and sprayed down the bowl so she could scrub. When she was done, I said well, you might as well do the toiled in my bathroom too, and she said okay, and I sprayed the blue-toilet-goo into that one as well, and she scrubbed that one as well.

Rain apparently decided after scrubbing the two toilets that she didn’t have to throw up after all, and DING the oven finished what it was cooking, so I pulled out the two chicken patties I had cooked and put them on two buns. I told her, either you can eat one, and I’ll get something else; or you can try to eat it SLOWLY. She said she’d try it, so I sat her down next to Dylan and gave them each a chicken sandwich. She began to inhale hers, and I kind of panicked, only thinking about her launching it across the table, but she didn’t. I told her to slow down, and she didn’t do that either. Suddenly, the chicken patty was in her tummy, which now was no longer upset, and all was right with the world.

I guess she was just hungry.

And on this day,
September 24, 2005… it was the day after my 30th birthday celebration. I had the worst hangover of my life.

I don’t deal with backups very much at my current job, but I did at my old job. I kind of because the “backup Nazi,” making sure that every filesystem on the boxes I worked on was backed up on a regular, scheduled basis. Now that I don’t do that at my day job, I tend to think about backups a lot at home.

There’s this website called IBackup that can do an Online Backup for you, on a regular, scheduled basis. You can access your backup via a Windows drive letter, or even through a web browser on a different computer. Their prices are pretty darn reasonable, considering how important things like photos and videos are to me, and considering you still can’t find a 500GB drive for under a hundred bucks yet… and even if you could, what happens if your house burns down? Not a pleasant thought, but it happens…

Right now, I’m burning DVDs once a year and putting them into a safety deposit box… isn’t that archaic? This is so much more secure (meaning it’s updated more than once a year, I wouldn’t lose a year’s worth of pictures) and it’s super easy. Very cool stuff.

I love to write. It really makes me feel good. I go through every day and think about the things I could write about, and that good writing-feeling, and can’t wait until that evening to sit in front of my laptop and type. Then, every night, I get in front of my laptop, and I can’t think. I have told quite a few people–my chain of thought is shot, and I can’t seem to hold more than one thought in my head at a time lately. It really screws up my conversation skills–not that I had that many to begin with.

So now I sit and want to write, and I don’t know what to talk about. I guess I’ll just give you a rundown of my weekend. Friday I got off work, got the kids, brought them home, and started dinner. Scott showed up and took over, and I changed clothes and went to hang out with some girlfriends. I really needed it, and I really had a good time, even though I didn’t get really really drunk or anything. One funny thing–the DJ is a friend of mine, though I’ve never seen him outside that place, and one time he could tell I was upset, and was going to give me his email address, and I said no because I didn’t want to get in trouble with Scott… over an email address! I’m so stupid. So Friday night I got his email address AND his phone number, just so we can talk. That’s it, talk. I haven’t talked to him yet. While I was out with my friends, Scott took the kids to the balloon festival, and to make a long story short he came home (to his home) with a puppy he adopted.

Saturday morning I woke up at my friend’s house (she drove me and a couple others to and from the place). Another girl was up, and she needed a ride to her car, and I obliged, which I’m glad I did, because she’s a very wonderful person. So that idle chatter was really welcome, and took my mind off life for an hour. Then I headed back to my house, and figured out that Scott had taken the kids to his house to sleep over, which was fine. I ate breakfast, showered, assembled a soccer team’s photo package, and headed out to Rain’s game. As it turned out, I showed up fifteen minutes before it ended. Then Scott told me he had to go back to the Wylie house. If I had known that, I wouldn’t have left; but I had another soccer team’s photos to do in an hour anyways, so I said goodbye to them and just stayed in Plano. I had also thought the three of them were going to the grandparents’ for the weekend, but that got cancelled two, and ended up being just a fishing trip on a really hot day. Rain did catch a really good fish, though. After two hours in the beating sun and heat (I can’t believe it’s autumn now), I headed back home to Wylie and colored my hair. That’s right. I don’t have any pictures yet, but it’s kind of copper red now. I have wanted it this way for a really long time and have finally done it. When the kids came home, I took them to the dollar theater, and for three dollars total we saw “Surf’s up.” We didn’t get snacks at the theater, because after the movie we went to Denny’s for kids eat free night. I finally let the rocket-cups the kids have been begging me to get them for the longest time. After Denny’s, we went to Wal-Mart to exchange a tooth-tunes toothbrush that I had bought Dylan that didn’t work. After Wal-Mart we went to the dollar store and bought a whole bunch of glow sticks. After the dollar store, I had planned on taking Luke for a walk with the kids and the glow sticks, but I was just so tired… so I let them lay in my bed and watch Blades of Glory on the apple tv with a couple glowsticks while I drifted off to sleep beside them.

Hang on, dog’s scratching, got to let him in.

This morning was church. I cried a little during service, but not as much as last week. Ed talked about how we deal with conflict, and how we have to suffer through conflict to grow, and as always I felt like the whole sermon was geared towards my life. I guess that’s the point, right… I felt numb and shy as I walked to the kids’ club to get the kids; I don’t really know anyone at all at the church yet and I’m just too shy to walk up and start talking to anyone. The kids had a good time, and as we headed out to the car Rain asked if we could go to Fuddrucker’s for lunch. I had another idea, though. We went down the street to Wal-Mart, handed over the car keys for an oil change, and went inside to McDonald’s. There was a guy dressed as Superman outside McDonald’s making balloon animals, and I gave each of the kids a dollar to eat one. Six chicken nuggets, a plain mcChicken sandwich, a double cheeseburger, and a million fries later, we wandered into the store itself. I got a bag of cat litter, dog food, a curling iron that I’m not sure how to use, and a plastic sword for Rain’s Halloween costume. We wheeled it all back to the auto section and paid for that and the oil change at the same time. After Wal-Mart, we drove home, and all I really wanted to do was sleep; but instead I forced myself to stay up and fold a couple loads of laundry. I sent the kids over to the neighbor’s house to play with her girl in the pool, and I headed to the gym to beat on myself for an hour. It felt good–I hadn’t been there in two days. Sunday night is “family night,” so Scott came over for dinner of sausages, macNcheese, and spinach, and afterwards we walked Luke for half an hour. We made a pit stop at the playground so the kids could swing for a while, and Scott sat next to me on a park bench and talked about his job while I wished that none of this was happening and that we were just a happy married couple out with the kids. We headed back home, much to the kids’ complaints, and settled down to a game of Uno, which I didn’t actually win this week–Dylan did. Scott left a little while after, and I brought the kids with me over to a different neighbor’s house to talk to them, which the kids were happy enough about since they got popsicles. After a little while I brought the kids back home, and I gave them their tubtime, then read them twenty minutes of “Cricket in Times Square,” a book I loved from my own childhood. Then it was off to bed.

I’m tired–I really am. I feel mechanical just sitting here telling the details of my day, but it forces me to write. It also shows that I’m keeping myself busy and not just sitting alone letting myself wallow in anything. I will make it through this.

I was thinking about going to bed, really I was. Now I’m just not tired at this very moment, at 9pm on a Thursday night. I felt more inclined to sit here and write, though I’m not sure what I should write about. When I started blogging, I used to try to tell at least one story a week–a story about something that had happened in my life, so that I had a way to record it and never forget it. Let’s see, what’s a good story…

I just don’t have one right now. My brain’s been having trouble processing, as I’m sure you can understand, and a lot of my long-term memory is suffering because I’m burning my cycles just trying to get through each day.

Well, I guess this morning is a good example of that, and it’s a story in itself. I worked from home today, and rather than work out in the afternoon like I usually do, I thought I’d go to the gym after I dropped the kids off at school. It’s only a block or two further away. So I got on a tank top and shorts, and sneakers and such, got a gym towel and my little notebook, grabbed my phone and shuffle, and walked the kids to school.

Now see, now that I’m rolling, this is turning into a better story. Not more than halfway there, Dylan started really complaining that his backpack was too heavy. At first, I told him to keep going, that his backpack was the same as always, that we had talked to school a dozen times before. But he kept on, and was whining, and starting to slip the backpack off, and I threatened him; I told him I’d take away his allowance if he didn’t carry it himself.

About a half a second later, I was completely filled with guilt. After we crossed the intersection with the old-man-crossing-guard, I got down on my knees in front of him. I told him I was sorry for getting upset, and I told him I would take his backpack, because God wants us to do nice things for other people. He smiled and gave it to me. (By the way, it was pretty friggin heavy.)

When we got to school, I stopped at the corner and watched the kids go in, then walked down the street and across a bank parking lot towards the gym. It’s on the other side of a two-lane-each-way road with an island in the middle, and I pretty much broke the law by jaywalking across the street instead of going all the way down to the light. Once I got into the gym parking lot, I came to the startling realization that I wasn’t going to be able to get in. I always drive to the gym, so I always have my keys, and my badge thingie to get in is on my car keys, which I hadn’t brought because I had walked. I was so mad at myself. I turned around, crossed back over the big busy street, and called Scott. I’m not sure why I called him, because it didn’t make me feel any better. I tried to look past my anger at myself and enjoy the morning and the pretty sunrise, but it was hard to do.

But that’s how my brain’s been rolling lately–I screw up simple things, then get mad at myself. I made up two wal-mart-bags of donation clothes, one to give to good will and one to give to a girlfriend of mine who has a daughter smaller than Rain. I got to where my friend works, and went to give her the bag, then realized I had brought the wrong one. Never mind, I said, I stopped by here for nothing. she gave me a big hug, and I went on with my day. That was a week ago, the “day the shit hit the fan.”

Yesterday, some little thing set me off, and I ended up outside work bawling, but I only let it last about ninety seconds. I went out to my car, got out my gym bag, went into the gym at where I work, and worked out like crazy for half an hour. I don’t know how much of a huge difference working out has made on my body yet, but I am so glad I joined and have that now, because it certainly is a release and a way to work out my frustrations in a healthy way. Also, I never would have joined *after* all of this, so I’m glad I joined before… literally just a week before. What are the odds.

Let’s see, anything else I want to talk about… I’m flying to LA next Thursday, then Friday driving up the coast to San Fran. If you’re from one of those areas and would like me to give you a shout, give me a shout, and let me know. I hope to see some really good friends and have some really good times.

Some little things about the iphone are pissing me off, and I really find myself missing my blackberry pearl. For one, one big one, my old Griffin car charger/fm tuner thingy won’t work with the iphone. That sucks big time. The second is that I don’t seem to see a way to send an MMS to someone–that is, a way to send a photo to someone else’s cell phone. Of course it doesn’t do video, so that’s another thing, and of course it only has 8gb, so that’s yet another thing. Rain likes it, though. She stole it from me in the car on the way home and was watching he Hollaback Girl video that I paid for on iTunes for about the hundredth time. Then she called Daddy, and she looked cute talking to him with the white ipod headphones in.

I guess I should go to bed now.

The day a geek gets a new iphone is supposed to be an exciting, marvelous, awesome day. For me, it was not. I went into the Apple store near my work and got myself an iphone yesterday, along with a purple rubbery case and a service plan. I didn’t feel happy when I walked out. See, me getting a new phone on a new service plan is because I’m getting off the t-mobile family plan, which Scott is going to keep. I have my own phone bill now. It’s just one more step towards us pulling apart, and as you can tell I’m not happy about it.The phone is great, don’t get me wrong. It’s very whiz-bang, and I like the headphones for conference calls. I do have one complaint, though; I plugged it into the Griffin charger/FM tuner thingy I have in my car that plugs into the cigarette lighter, and it doesn’t play music over the FM from the iphone. Am I going nuts? Do you HAVE to use the headphone jack to get music in your car? Isn’t that kind of going against the wonderful design they had previously done on the ipod? I really don’t get this one.

I had too much for lunch. I had chips and salsa, then a hamburger, then felt the urge to get an ice cream. I just don’t want to move now. I haven’t eaten that much at one time in a week. I think the explosion-way I feel right now will keep me from eating like that in the future.

The cat is licking the sweat off the outside of my drink. That is all.

And on this day,
September 20, 2004… I took the kids to the balloon festival (just me and the kids), and Cathy and I went to the Sting concert. A neat, long post.