10 January 2009

I HATE the phone.

What am I supposed to do? I guess I just don't have the kind of... whatever you call... skills, habits of keeping in touch like other people. Computer is the fastest easiest way, but that doesn't make it bad. It just makes it convenient. I say I am never too busy for friends and family, but I've just spent SO MUCH OF MY DAMNED LIFE ON THE COMPUTER that it's easier. The phone is an intrusion on life. I hate it when it rings, I hate dialing, I hate everything about Alexander Graham Bell's damned invention.

I mean what the hell? Email/write every few months to get all the info because I couldn't be bothered before? It's all that I can do TO ask, to remember to ask, to remember to BE nosey! I really don't know the difference between nosey and caring except the mindset. Bullshit!! I call when I do because that's when I can stand waiting no longer. And why do I wait? Because I hate being on the phone! I hate calling and inconveniencing people. The EASIEST excuse for not doing something, but also the TRUEST for me. Wow. She really damned me. I hate phoning. Hate it, hate it, hate it. It seems more impersonal than anything and I DO NOT LIKE hearing problems I cannot fix, cannot say anything about, monitoring what I say, filtering everything that comes out of my mouth, trying to explain without gesture, eye contact. It is a weekness, much like some of those who hate writing. WHAT am I supposed to do?

I hate it when people phone to "get the scoop" because I think it's nosey. I hate gossip, I hate gossiping, I feel less of a person. I think I hate phoning because no one listens when I talk anyway and because EVERYONE seems to take things I say the wrong way. It doesn't matter how I say it or that I have good things to say! Or that I've learned a million ways to filter or communicate. It all just comes out like poo-poo anyway! It's just ANOTHER venue for people to find a way to take me WRONG!

And maybe I'm just so damned pissy about it because I'm so damned worried about coming off "exactly the right way." Well then, that's not such a fault, is it? I can honestly say I AM NOT trying to get it right or perfect anymore, but if the people closest to me are having the problem, then whose problem is it really? MINE. And that pisses me off. So why be on the phone? I just want to exchange dialogue, not exhert this drama over words. Maybe I should go on a word hiatus as well. Because I haven't fared any better there, either.

I hate it because you can't read conversational cues like when to shut up. Or start talking. I hate being interupted and I hate interupting. Hate both with a passion. A fierce passion. I hate dead silence. I hate condescending tones on the phone. I hate crying. Hearing or doing. I hate it. I've only JUST begun to appreciate talking on the phone with Kyle. And he's my husband!! I hate being checked up on, I hate having to stop what I'm doing to listen and I hate inflicting the same on others. I hate hearing my voice when I DO talk and I hate how I'm condemned for talking or ridiculed for talking fast. I HATE being on the phone!! I LOVE that texting has become so readily available. I love that emails can be read at the reader's LEISURELY convenience. I love that emails are far less intrusive than its aural counterpart.

I hate the phone.

09 January 2009

I cracked just before Christmas...

I wrote this in my other blog some time ago, after I'd completed the ginormous project of painting the entire upstairs.
* * *

Well... Oh my God, I don't know what to say. I mean, really, thank you so--

-much!! *tear*breathe*

Okay. *sigh* I'd like to thank first and foremost my publicists and agent. Without their undying support, I would not be here. Bug and Doll, you know who you are. HB? Yeah. You were there for me through the worst of it, from the beginning until the completed project. You helped me. You helped me so much.

I just can't believe it...

Thank you so much!

Uhh-m, I'd like to thank the paint mixing people, the supply store, um... the (*cue polite laugh) till clerks who rang me through. I just don't know what to say. I'd like to thank all the little people who made this possible. This award goes out to you, this award... IS for you.

But mostly I would be amiss to not mention the hugest thank you my husband and my beautiful girls. This aware goes out to them-

No! Don't you dare cue the music!

-for their patience in living in disastrous conditions, having to navigate the treacherous piles of clutter in the living room, giving up their comfortable lives for the sake of Crazy Mommy Painting The House and um..

Wait, wait, wait!

Just... thank you all, dear people, for this award. This- *shakes head, tears up, shakes award* prize for the biggest job ever. I love you. Mommy loves you. *Mwa!* to you... goodnight, go to bed. Thank you, Academy!!

--*exit stage right