electric boogaloo

Hi, internet. The longer I don’t write the more I can’t write and more I can’t write the more I avoid trying or thinking or talking about writing. And that would be okay — lots of people don’t write — except that if you were to scrape away all of the words that describe me until you were down to the most very basic core of me, one of the few words left at the end would be writer.

Some of the other words would be dark-eyed, mess, silly, chatty-brain.
Back when I was doing professional writing jobs, I never experienced serious writer’s block; when you have a deadline it’s too bad. If the topic was boring or complicated, I have to figure out how to make it interesting and clear; if I was avoiding part of an assignment that meant there was something I didn’t understand. All I have to do is write down questions and find answers and keep going.

But my own personal writing is different. And with the blog this keeps happening lately. Why? It feels almost like social anxiety. Not because of the social aspect. More like I’m fearful of my own — what? Criticism maybe? Because the longer I go without writing, the more profound and perfect I think my post must be.

Well that’s stupid. Just like writing repair manuals for ATMs or crafting surgeon training booklets, my work on this blog shouldn’t stop any time I feel a little blocked. Next time I don’t know what to say, I’m going to post anyway, say stuff anyway, because often the only way to move forward is to shut up and move forward.

In the narrow valley between Kevin and me, there’s nearly a hundred pounds of dog and kid and cat all curled, breathing low and working together to staple the blanket down. We can’t move without giving up the quilt. It’s summer, but even in our sleep we hold onto the blanket because of the principle.

We have a skylight in our room, and now it’s warming up into a nice shade of blue. I really should go back to sleep. Pretty soon whichever kid this isn’t will roll into the room and scoot me back from the edge of the bed. He’ll wave a book or the ipad at me, he’ll talk about chemistry or cats, he’ll ask for breakfast but if I ignore the request like a terrible person he’ll maybe fall back asleep for a little while. That’s when I sleep fastest, that last hour before it’s too late.

Even once the room is brighter and we’re all in conversation about something big and the day has clearly started, the pets still don’t bother to get up. They’re not asleep, they just don’t see the point in giving up their corners of the quilt unless things are really happening. Pets spend all of their time listening, did you know that? Even when they’re folded up in a corner of the living room with their eyes closed, they are listening and watching us and waiting for anything that has to do with them. I can find a piece of a leash that we used one time a year ago and Beezus will pop awake because Hey, me! That’s something to do with me!

Even the bird listens. Every morning and every night, Kevin shakes his packet of medicine — a powder that has to be mixed with water — and every time she tweets loudly in response. Like “Hey! That was a noise just FYI!” Throughout the day if anyone claps, she answers. If I use the tape gun, if anyone squeaks or tweets, or drops something on the wood floor you’re darn right she answers because hey! That was a noise and hey! It was a noise! Here’s another noise to go with it!

So here I am in a sprawling multileveled house with a whole family huddled within the small, dark radius of square footage that’s right around me. Did you ever have hamsters? We had hamsters when I was a kid and they would do this. Habitrails and tubes and wheels and little hamster observation decks — but they’d all pile up in a corner under the cedar chips and enjoy the warmth of being lazy together.

Because really, if someone asked me out of the weird blue to come up with a list of 15 things every girl should know by the age of eighteen — as in a completely original list with no other list to respond to — that’s not the list I would’ve made. First I would’ve spent ten minutes being annoying and ornery and missing the point with well, why does it have to be a list for GIRLS? Why is everything so accidentally sexist all the time? And! why does it have to be a certain number of things? That’s so arbitrary, man, and like maybe one of the fifteen things I’d want my daughter to know is that you shouldn’t worry about goals that are arbitrarily chosen. Why are you being so uptight?

But eventually you would convince me to shut up, take a moment, quiet my mind and write a real list.

I tried it last night and ended up with twenty. Let’s call it:
Twenty things I want my children to know by age 25.
1. Human brains are brilliant story tellers, pattern seekers, and groupers of things. These brains make us flexible and well adapted to a complex world, but can lead to unfair prejudices, exhausting superstitions, and dangerous lies like “No, it’s okay, I’m fine to drive.” So you know, just be aware.

2. Embarrassment, guilt and shame are not the same. Embarrassment is useful to help you remember not to do something again. Guilt is motivating, but might mean that you’re being manipulated. Shame is the worst. Dump shame in the toilet and flush and jiggle the handle to make sure it’s gone. Unless you go around hurting people for fun, you have no reason to ever feel ashamed.

3. Listen to your instincts, but challenge them sometimes.

4. If you’re avoiding something, think about why. Are you scared? Are you unsure of what to do? Or are you just being an ass?

5. Healthy eating is about balance. In fact, healthy everything is about balance.

6. Whenever you meet someone new, you’ll form a first impression. Go home and write
Today I met (their name).
First impressions:
Unfounded opinion:
Voted most likely to:
Then get to know them better. Update your notes. Once you’ve done this with 100 people or so, analyze the results. Look for areas where you tend to be right and where you tend to be wrong. Then make a chart illustrating where your first impression biases lie. Send your chart to Kinko’s and ask them to print it as an oversized poster. Go to Michael’s and get the poster framed. They always have 50% off of custom framing. Hang it on your wall and look at it any time you start to think you should trust that girl who gives you the creeps or be friends with the guy who struck you as mean-spirited.

7. Diamonds are a scam. So are multi level marketing schemes, unpaid internships, cheap inkjet printers and free kittens.

8. Advertising is designed by horrible people who study psychology and know exactly how to make you feel stressed out. So do not grow up to work in advertising.

9. Don’t go into debt for furniture, weddings, or fast food.

10. Pets are wonderful but they complicate your life so choose them carefully. Same goes for friends.

11. There are stupid questions. There are questions that are so dumb that people will laugh. But so what? Ask them anyway! Be brave enough to ask every question.

12. You can’t force yourself to forgive. You can’t forgive someone who is still doing the same stuff that hurt you in the first place. It’s taboo to say you don’t forgive someone, but don’t forgive someone who doesn’t ask you to and don’t pretend you’re over something just to make other people feel better.

13. Integrity will cost you jobs, opportunities, money, and friends. But it will pay for itself in other ways. I’m not sure yet what those ways are, but they’re probably going to be really good to make up for all that other stuff I’ve lost.

14. If you ask a guy what he’s thinking about and he says nothing, he might’ve been thinking about some crazy sex thing. Or he might’ve been thinking about something boring like whether he remembered to save his changes to that spreadsheet. Or he might’ve been thinking about something he finds interesting but knows you might make fun of. Or he might’ve been thinking about… nothing. Don’t hassle people when they’re busy thinking.

15. Set aside time for quiet. No television, no music, just your own thoughts. Tune in to yourself. Figure out what drains your mental energy, and what recharges you.

16. Eyes on the road, seriously.

17. Give in to the suckiness. Don’t fight a bad situation or a crummy day. Tomorrow will be better.

18. Learn how to cuss properly or people will think you’re a mango-eating assplop who makes up her own sheep flipping swears.

19. Learn how to get to places on time. And then come back and teach me.

20. You’re going to mess up. You’re going to hurt people’s feelings, break things, lose important papers, get in wrecks, spill stuff, drop stuff, forget stuff, disappoint, surprise people who thought they had you all figured out, annoy your loved ones, disturb the neighbors, piss off the driver behind you, make strangers wait. It’s okay, really. Apologize, fix it if you can, don’t if you can’t, and go on.

Bonus! Here is advice other people have given me that I still use:
1. You can tell how smart someone is based on the sophistication of their lies.

2. When you lose something, find it by thinking. Then by cleaning. Then thinking some more.

3. People will tell you everything you need to know about themselves if you will just listen.

4. It’s not your job to decorate anyone’s world. Dress nice if you want to, wear lip gloss and mascara if you like it, but do it for you. Everyone else can cope.

5. While rice is cooking DON’T FRICKING TOUCH IT. Don’t lift the lid, don’t stir it, LEAVE IT ALONE.

6. Whenever you feel stuck on what to do with your life, ask yourself: What would make my close friends say “Wow!”? Put your energy into those things. Make the people who know you best say wow.

7. Don’t put more than two fonts on a page.

8. You don’t get to understand why other people are the way they are or do the things they do. Learn to be okay with that mystery because speculating will stress you out and get you nowhere.

9. When you need customer service, say “Hello, I’m an idiot and I made a mistake. I really hope you can help.”

10. Travel. Be safe about it, don’t get drunk in strange cities with people you don’t know, but travel. Nobody’s mind was ever narrowed by travel.

This list is going around facebook.
I don’t have daughters but I try to hand out this kind of motherly advice every time I meet young ladies. Here’s my version:

1. At least once in your life you should go for it. Cut your own hair. Use sharp scissors, a second mirror, and have fun with it. It’s just hair! Hair grows.

2. Never use bleach and ammonia together. For crying heck, what are you even trying to clean that you’re trying these two chemicals together? We live in the future. Get a flipping Magic Eraser.

But also, by the time you are 18 I hope you will understand enough about chemistry to know that the best case will make Chlorine gas and that stuff isn’t kidding around. Apparently you can also change the ratio to produce explosive toxic rocket fuel-levels of excitement. Don’t do that unless you have a good reason.

3. Learn how to use a fire extinguisher. Obviously good advice given your impulse to mix things that lead to exothermic reactions.

4. Don’t play manipulative little games with people you care about. Don’t fish for complements or set them up to say the wrong thing (ie “Do you love me?” or “does this tanktop make my elbows look pointy?”). That’s crappy and unfair.

5. Good friends are the ones who can make you laugh and who think you are amazing even if your ass is big, even if your boyfriend took off with Suzy, even if you accidentally burned her skin with ammonia and bleach.

6. When you ask a man, “What are you thinking?” and he replies “Nothing.”, he was thinking about you doing some craaaaAaazy sex thing.

7. Pizza is delicious! It’s one of the top 20 reasons for living on planet Earth. Go for whole wheat crust if it’s an option, go easy on meat ingredients, add a ton of vegetables. If you get it from a national chain it’ll be really salty, so drink a lot of water.

8. Learn how to use jumper cables and then hang out in parking lots in the winter. Great way to meet guys. “Looks like you need me to jump you…” WINK.

9. Men look at other girl’s boobs. Maybe you should look at girl’s boobs too? You never know what you might be into. You’re only 18.

10. Drinking is fun, but don’t rely on it for a good time. Have friends who are a lot of fun to be around even when everyone is sober. The only time I ever felt compelled to drink alcohol straight from the bottle was when I was at a party and ended up trapped talking to a girl who was so boring I thought I might die. There were no clean glasses. It was drink that shit or stab her in the face with a pen. I regret nothing.

11. Budgeting is good. Budgerigers are better. Badgers are not good. Budgets and budgies, not badgers. Badges are sort of neutral, although they can pull holes in your shirt if you’re not careful.

12. Separating laundry out into all different categories is a scam. Use cold water, don’t over do the soap, regular wash, low-heat dry, and boom. All of your clothes can be washed in harmony.

13. Smoking’s gross. Don’t do smoking.

14. No one knows what they want to be when they grow up. Just get a damned engineering degree and use the money you earn to pursue whatever you love to do.

15. Boys are human beings, just like girls. Don’t be intimidated by anyone of any gender. Don’t change yourself to impress or please them, don’t spend time with anyone who tries to make you feel ashamed of who you are.

Bonus! 16. Don’t fall for all the marketing hype. The only skin care products you need: Hot water, a washcloth, and moisturizer.

Unless it comes up in conversation, I forget that I have a body and that other people can see it. While we’re standing there talking in person, there’s only the stuff that’s me recognizing the stuff that’s them. It’s one of those areas where my brain feels like it has gray cotton in it and I can’t seem to think about it as sharply as everyone else. Even though of course I have a body and of course it looks like something, it startles me every time it comes up.

Do you know what you really look like? Is it possible to know? I don’t even know whether or not it matters. What matters, since we are social animals, is how other people respond. I’m a half-blind thing flying around using sonar to form a composite picture of myself based on people’s responses. That feedback changes the landscape, sometimes in a good way and sometimes not.

Early on, I gathered that I was tall. And younger than I felt. Strangers commented on my freakishly thin frame. People would say “You have great skin” and almost twenty years later I still don’t know what that means, but people said it. From the sound of things, I had no boobs in the place where boobs were supposed to sit. My eyes were dark brown, mean and black sometimes. And there was all this hair, long thick hair that people rudely defended and chained themselves to like an endangered tree any time I started to cut it off.

When you are young and tall and thin and you don’t need a bra, clothes shopping is quick. Wait for Ross to have a sale, go try on a bunch, take home the ones that are cute and comfortable. The time saved while shopping must have freed up a ton of extra energy because lots of seemingly unrelated things were easy. Interview for job? Hired. Interview for scolarship? Get scholarship. Say stuff in class? Good grades in class. Thirsty? A coke magically appears.

I avoided sex-type of attention, but beyond well meaning flirty boys and overtly lecherous professors, there is a whole friendly world that’s glad to see the tall, thin young girl with long hair.

In my mid-twenties I still hadn’t caught on, but something about the amused way people listened was frustrating. I just wanted to argue with creativity and logic, not long hair and lip gloss. I bought overalls. Cut my hair. Wore glasses. A little weight gain. Didn’t matter. Young thin female can do almost any awful or unfashionable thing and people are still willing to help, glad you stopped by, can I get you a Coke? But I’m the one with gray cotton in my head, right, so I thought I was genuinely persuasive, that the world was mostly fair, and that everyone walked through the world asking and getting.

Then I got pregnant and the sonar went nuts — feedback overload. Suddenly I was extremely aware of having a physical body but it wasn’t bad. Every way my body stretched and swelled was evidence of the greatest show on earth.

After the baby was out, the body that was left behind was weird. Things were out of place, and some stuff had expanded in ways that didn’t seem right. No matter, I was still ME, floating around doing whatever without thinking about my body as much more than a vehicle. People wanted to talk to the baby more than boring old me anyhow.

One fine day I was in the mall, and I cheerfully asked the Mrs.Fields guy for two peanut butter cookies, please and thank you. He picked them out of the display case and told me the price. I counted out my cash and realized ohhh wait, I don’t have quite enough, argh so embarrassing, I’m really sorry! And then — you won’t believe this. He put one of the cookies back. Away from me. It was very confusing. Wait, what are you doing? But I’m being friendly! Why aren’t you saying don’t worry about it? What has been going on all these years? Because, but, wait. This means… oh god.

That was the moment. My time of free-cookie level cuteness was over. This concludes your twenties, young lady, thank you and we hope you enjoyed your time in first class western society.

I was invited (quietly, via sonar) to join The Association of Regular Females, which is only for women who are unhappy with their physical bodies. Member benefits include hearing about diet plans, being invited to go shopping, and not having female strangers walk up and say “Oh my god, I hate you.”
As a 30-something with a child, I was also given the Invisibility Shield which allows me to walk around in public unnoticed by men.

But still, I live in my own head and I forget. Time happened, another baby happened and again during that pregnancy I was fascinated by the bigger me, distorted by a growing kid. Pregnant in the summer is glorious — I was free to wear little dresses and a bathing suit without worrying about having a bit of a gut. But then that baby was born, and the fun of people asking about my pregnancy went away. They still asked, but it wasn’t fun anymore. And every time someone asks it startled me to remember that other people could see my body; I’m not just a floating head taking my kids to class or my dog to the park. I’d say oh, no, I’m not pregnant, and then they would writhe around on the ground apologizing and run away to hide in shame for asking and I’d feel bad for creating this awkward social situation. It was my fault for having this shape.

I cannot be the first person who ever considered having another child just so it would stop being awful when people asked about my pregnant belly? Of course, that’s a temporary solution. The key would be to stay pregnant constantly until you look obviously too old to have babies, at which point people will think you have some sort of tumor and probably won’t ask about it. But Kevin said no, that’s not a “good enough reason” to bring a child into the world. Whatever. Fine. My next idea was to agree with people so they wouldn’t be embarrassed. Why yes, I am pregnant! When am I due? I’m due June 14th. Wait, is that 11 months away? Sorry, I’m not good at dates. I scrapped that idea. Too complicated to do the rolling math.

Then I hit on the perfect response: the next time someone asks “When are you due?” I am going to tell them “Next week, actually. Almost there!” and then — are you ready for this? — they will be amazed and will compliment me on how little I am. Everyone wins!

But no one has asked since last spring. I have finally gained enough that it’s clear that I’m the boring, moral failing, American suburbanite kind of fat and not the exciting, miraculous human pregnancy kind of fat. Or if they do think I’m pregnant, they suspect it’s triplets and one is tragically gestating in each of my upper arms and it’s too sad so no one is willing to ask about that.