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Book Reviews Relationships Stories

Meeting Heather B. Armstrong in the Flesh

Heather Flails her arms about wildly, but looks beautiful and pregnant nonethless
Heather Flails her arms about wildly, but looks beautiful and pregnant nonethless

Last night I drove down to Austin to meet Heather B. Armstrong a.k.a Dooce.  It was a treat…

When I first started working at Texas Instruments I HATED my job. I sat in one of those cubicle that only goes about 3 feet how and makes you feel exposed like you are a kid urinating at a trough with your pants around your ankles and everyone can see your buttocks – except now you are an adult and this is totally unacceptable.

Texas Instruments was a thirsty tick that was sucking the lifeblood out of me and I couldn’t help but surf the net for a little bit of an escape from my suicidal reality – and that is how I stumbled upon Dooce.

Immediately I was taken aback by this woman who was writing some of the most hilarious and sometimes bawdy tales of her life. See this excerpt here that was written before her daughter was born and after I had already been reading religiously for a while:

I’m a Slave 4 U(nemployment)

I’ve cleaned every surface in this apartment: every tile, every crevice, every hidden corner littered with dust bunnies the size and attitude of Texas. Alas, I’ve nothing left to clean.

I always said that I’d strip this place bare once I had the free time to do so, much like I’d strip the sleeves from Britney’s trembling shoulders if ever given the chance to hit her, baby, one more time. Two weeks into unemployment and that mission is accomplished (the cleaning mission, not the Britney mission, you pervert). Now what the hell do I do?

As you can see the language is often “colorful”, but the writing is downright creative and sometimes so hilarious that I would sputter and snort in my cubicle. I was supposed to be helping someone figure out how to double-click but instead I was finding a way to cope with that fact that my life sucked  – Heather/Dooce helped me realize that I wasn’t the only one with some serious issues and that sometimes you need to get help with those issues.

As the years went by I got to watch as Heather went through depression and pregnancy and how Mormonism has affected her life. I have read about her political views and ideas on same-sex marriage and although often times I find myself disagreeing with her it has never changed the fact that I have loved her like a sister – a far away online only sister, but a sister nonetheless.

Heather got up and read an excerpt from her new book – it was a story that we had read on her website about how it took seven months after giving birth vaginally with her first child before she was able to have sex again or what she called “Reconvening the Procedure”.

I suppose I could look for a job; that’s what any ambitious worker-bee would do. If I were any ambitious worker-bee I would put my shoulder to the wheel, as the Mormons might say, and find me some effing gainful employment. After all, I’m a healthy blonde college graduate with seriously long legs. Finding a job shouldn’t be that hard.

What I love most about Heather is not the hilarious side, but the softer side. I love her monthly newsletters to her daugher Leta and the times when she stops and takes a moment to express her love for her husband Jon, like she did in this paragraph:

So it feels really good to have all these emotions toward Jon that I don’t normally experience because of our proximity. I miss everything about him, even the incessant talking and bear feet. It’s a longing that is somehow invigorating, and once where I would have been annoyed that we’d talked six times already on the phone I find myself getting a text message and hoping it’s from him. I ache to get back to the hotel room from whatever I’m doing so that I can call and hear his voice. Which I am about to do right this second, call and see if he slept well, ask if I can interrupt SpongeBob to say hello to Leta, and then stop and savor this feeling of missing the weight of his body on the bed next to me.

The way she expresses her love for her family  is so genuine and intimate that it makes me, as a single dude, hope and pray to God that someday I will find a love like that.

I plan to insert a picture here later that I got with Jon and Heather. I was elated to get a picture with both of them and I hope Jon doesn’t mind me using his photo at the top of this post. I was standing right behind him when he took it and so this was the angle that I had during the hour that she spoke.

Jon Armstrong, Dooce, Eddeaux - all equally popular... almost

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Stories

The Speeding Ticket and Genator Johnson

On my way to Waco one morning I was driving throuh Red Oak and I got stopped by a cop. I normally have a sixth sense about cops and I rarely get speeding tickets, but this particular morning I had gotten up at 5:00, which is earlier than Jesus wakes up, and I wasn’t paying attention and so the cop nabbed me at 78 miles an hour in a 60.

He wasn’t happy and why would he be? He was up when only satan and hoodlums were up and about and I am sure he just wanted to get his quota of tickets and then move on to restraining people from seeing their dying mother-in-laws.

Fast-forward a couple of days and when I get home the mailbox contains several letters from law firms. The first letter intrigued me cause I thought I was being sued but when I opened it I only found that it was just some cheap marketing from a lawyer that wanted to help me dismiss my ticket. Intrigued I opened all the letters only to find the last one seemed to have the best deal. It was from The Genator Johnson Law Firm.

“Dallas County Records show that you have received ticket in Dallas County Precinct 1-1” – the poor grammar should have been a clue, but I was drawn in by the price of just $39 for a ticket dismissal and so I gave them a call.

“For traffic violations press 1”

“Hello, Genator Johnson Law Firm”

“Yes, I received a letter from your firm stating that you help with speeding tickets?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it says you dismiss them for $39 dollars?”

“Yes.”

“And I have a ticket for $250”

“Mhmmm”

Each reply was from a woman who seemed to be filing her nails and totally uninterested in my call.

“Well, are you going to help me or not?” – I finally blurted out.

“What do you mean?” Was her response.

“Well, I called to get some help with this ticket, but you don’t seem interested in helping me. I had expected you to say that ‘yes, we can take care of that right away, we just need a credit card and your citation number.’ but you don’t seem to want to help” – I was exasperated by her lacsadaisical attitude and nothing makes me more irate than poor customer service.

Finally she said, “Well, how many citations are on it?”

I responded, “Nevermind, I will just call another law firm that does want my business and I’ll be sure to let people know not to use Genator Johnson.”

I then hung up the phone and just paid the $250 dollar ticket. I just didn’t think I could handle dealing with anymore stupid people that day.

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Stories

Comparmentalization

Since I got laid off from Texas Instruments I’ve managed to stay extremely busy without hardly trying. However, I’m finding that I am heading back to the same rut where I work all the time and I don’t allow time to take care of myself.

I like to make excuses for my behavior because I have to work. There isn’t anyone paying me at a 9-5 job with a cushy desk and office, nope, I’m working for myself and my boss is a little bit manic when it comes to getting the job done and done right.

So this is how I operate: I get up and I start working and I don’t stop until the end of the day. I eat fast food and take the occasional break, but for the most part, even when I am watching my favorite shows I am working on a website or updating a blog link or my Facebook status or my Twitter Feed.

I get lonely and instead of obsessing about that, I work. I keep myself busy, I compartmentalize. I schedule time to pay my bills and to work on things that I don’t find appealing. I allow myself to fully focus on what is important because at least if I am making money and my bills are getting paid then that is an accomplishment in and of itself.

What I have learned from all of this is that if you want to be the best, you cannot stop working. There isn’t a time to coast or to let off the gas. Instead you have to always be thinking ahead, playing the game, learning, teaching, building, creating and if you are lucky you get to squeeze in some time for life and fun along the way.

In the end though, I think it is worth it. I’m enjoying being self-employed and at least now the only person I can blame for my happiness, busy-ness or stress is me.

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Job Updates Stories

Nursing Home Variety Show Big Success

The room was filled with octogenarians and other people old enough to be their parents. Few smiles abound in the nursing home because who smiles when they are asleep? 

The variety show was running 30 minutes behind schedule and when someone brought it up I said, “Where do these people have to be?” As if people in a nursing home had some pressing business – perhaps they were missing their daily episodes of Judge Judy or General Hospital, but mostly everyone just looked sedated. 

Then the music began, the curtains were drawn and 6 ladies began dancing to Elvis’s classic hit Jail House Rock. Immediately people began to wake up, including me, and started cheering wildly as these women who could hardly get out of their chairs – and many of them didn’t – started entertaining us with pom poms and smiles. 

Following this opening act was a stunning rendition of The Munchkin Song by an 8 year old girl who was the daughter of one of the judges. Act after act went by and no matter what the level of talent we applauded the efforts because that is what we were doing, applauding people for just getting up and trying. It didn’t matter if you were good or not, and undoubtedly some were, but what mattered was that these people, who often times are overlooked, had the opportunity to be seen and heard and to make people smile. 

I got to be one of the judges and I couldn’t help but give everyone at least a 7 or above. I sat there having such a wonderful time that I couldn’t help but be thankful for the opportunity to be part of this event. 

My new role at the nursing home is IT Director. I only go up to Waco a couple times a month and stay a few days and then I come back to Plano. But I do love the nursing home, the residents, the staff. It has been a blessing and such a sweet change of pace from my old cubicle life at Texas Instruments. 

In the end this variety show breathed a little bit of new life not only into the residents, but also back into me.

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Stories

Dear Anon,

I noticed you sitting there smiling, smiling, smiling. It was nice at first, and then it sort of turned creepy because there wasn’t a reason to be smiling for so long. Your eyes seemed alive with a manic joy as if at any moment something wonderful and tragic was going to happen. I looked around uncomfortably wondering what it was that I was missing. Was it an inside joke or perhaps my fly was unzipped. I concluded that it was neither, but before I had a chance to ask you about your smile you got up and walked away without so much as a good day.

You swayed when you walked, your rear end plump like two ripe cantoloup jostling in a plastic sack. Exaggerated were your steps. My skin itched and my heart raced, but not with lust, but with fear. Something about you just wasn’t right.

I imagined you sliding into your convertible and then backing over me, laughing wildly, crazy like the Joker that Heath Ledger played so well. Despite the cars weight and my body being smashed to smithereens I would feel no pain, except the pain of your laughter pounding me repeatedly, reverberating through my head like a hammer against a monstrous gong.

I would ask myself what I did to deserve this, but I would never know, because you weren’t real. Just an image, just a story, just a fleeting moment of panicked hysteria induced by stress and too much caffeine and the need, the desperate need for a constant drama high.