Hello Kittens –
I’m so sorry that I’ve been MIA the past week or so. Work has been eating up all my time, sadly. But today is my birthday…and though I don’t look a day over 23, I’m 33 today. I like this number, I feel good about this number. It has a good ring to it. Good things will happen in this 33rd year. But, really, the best way for me to start off a new year is to have a few rants. I mean – what gal doesn’t feel better when she gets a few things off her chest?
With that, I would first like to complain about the DVR. I believe the DVR is ruining my life.
Why? You ask.
Well, let me tell you.
As you know if you are blessed (and cursed) with this technology in your home, if you just tuned out, you can rewind.
Get caught up in your thoughts, debating the pros and cons of a skinny cow vs. quart of ben and jerry’s for dessert? Then realize you missed a few crucial minutes of “Lost” – ok, then, rewind.
Get caught up reading “Star” or “In Touch” – rewind, fast forward, whatever you want, you can control what you know when your mind wanders into the deep territories of food, celeb gossip and spring fashion, as mine does.
Always a deep thought going on here in KT.
But see, the trouble is, you can’t rewind or pause anything else in your life, as I’ve learned.
So suddenly you realize your husband is 15 minutes into telling you something really important about his day and while your important thoughts on “did i really put enough cheese on top of that burrito? and do we have enough in case i want more?” – are also valid – well – you can’t pause or rewind your husband.
Or better yet, fast forward to the end bit about work and get back to important matters.
So this plays out in my life frequently, it seems. I can’t rewind a work convo, I can’t rewind the radio, I can’t pause, I am just, well, screwed.
And I blame the DVR. The DVR is enhancing my adult ADD. What is a gal to do?
Fortunately, nodding reassuringly along with a few “Oh, definitely” and “absolutely you should be fired up about that” have helped me skate through thus far. But things aren’t looking good…we all know I’m not getting any younger…and my DVR isn’t going anywhere….so this predicament is bound to just get worse. I really can’t be held responsible for it. I blame the DVR.
My second rant is against sidewalks in Washington, DC. Perhaps all over this country. I am most familiar with sidewalks in Washington DC.
I think it’s time for some women to get involved in the planning and execution of the cracks between sidewalks because no one who has ever worn a kitten heel has ever built a DC sidewalk. If they had, they would know that the cracks are just wide enough for your beautiful kitten heel to get caught and torn up. Not to mention the embarrassment of getting caught and trying to walk forward and not going anywhere.
Do I smell a conspiracy?
Are the urban planners in bed with the shoe repairmen in this town?
Is it another example of the Bush administration trying to keep women down and certainly dowdy in practical pumps?
Can I get more of a tax rebate to cover the expense of getting my shoes fixed..or better yet..having to replace them because I look like a poor kid who just graduated from college walking into the office with ripped up heels? What gives, sidewalk maker? Cut a gal a break.
And finally, I am not really ranting against my DD, I am almost proud, though tired. My DD is almost 2.5 years old and her communication skills continue to expand and improve daily. We all know this is a double edged sword. Take, for instance, our doctor’s visit on Friday.
Doctor enters the room, DD immediately tells him she has an owee. He asks her where and she says “Ears.”
I was quite pleased. It was the first time she had communicated so clearly to a doctor what was wrong with her. And it turns out, it was her first ear infection. Fast forward 20 minutes later to the enormous tantrum in the foyer of the doctor’s office and the nurse who ends up helping me because my child refuses to leave or put her coat on. At this moment, why can’t I use the DVR to fast forward my life?
Then progress to the 20 minutes in the parking lot of her telling me she is “not” getting to the “Carseat” because she “wants to sit only on mommy’s lap.”
I mean, I get it. Everyone wants to be close to me but I’m a law abiding citizen, not Britney, so into the car seat she eventually went. Meanwhile I aged 10 years and the parking lot attendant didn’t charge me for parking out of pity, trust me, I could see it in his eyes.
Then came our entrance to the CVS parking lot 15 minutes later. My dread of having to get her out of the carseat to get the prescription to only have to load her back in after the ordeal we just went through only escalated when I opened her car door and she looked at me and said very steadily “I’m not going anywhere.”
Secretly, I loved it. I mean – who does this kid think she is and god love her sass. At least I don’t have some lame door mat of a kid.
But she sure as hell isn’t making anything easy along the way.
With that kittens, I won’t make you wait so long to hear from me again, and please, send all the rest of my gifts to my home, it’s so much trouble having to make so many trips to my car today.