The Office.

I’ve often said that my child came out with a briefcase and a Blackberry in her hand.  She has an obsession with laptops, cell phones, pens, paper and basically anything else that can be used to run an office or work in an office.  When we go to Best Buy, she salivates over the Mac computer displays.  Then again, so does my husband.  I guess she gets her “all things techie” obsession from her parents.  Let’s hope she didn’t inherit my inability to do basic third grade math.  I’m already worried about future math homework. 

Anyway, one of the biggest problems I have with my little child is that she likes to climb on my office chair and mess up my laptop settings while I’m doing something in another room.  When I come back in the office, my laptop screen is turned upside down, and my mouse is nowhere to be found.  That’s because she klepto’d it and moved it to an undisclosed location that I eventually locate hours later.  You can imagine my frustration. 

So, to appease Anna’s inner-techie-beast, I finally had a lightbulb moment.  Many years ago when I graduated from college, my dear parents bought me a laptop.  As with any computer, it eventually became obsolete, so I put it in the attic with the rest of the stuff I can’t part with yet.  My bright idea was to get the laptop for Anna – maybe then she would stop trying to destroy mine!  A-HA! 

I plugged it in.  Heck yes, it still works!  Anna’s eyes lit up.  She started clapping.  The old yet familiar start-up music chimed, and my old wallpaper – The Trady Bunch (all of the designers on Trading Spaces arranged like the Brady Bunch grid) – quickly popped up on the screen.  Groovy! 

It all started out great. Anna was happy. I was happy. Life was good. Then, she closed the screen. Hell ensued. This is a photo stream of how it went down.

Yay!  My very own laptop.  I’m a spoiled little girl!

Now I can type like mom!  (Goodness, that child’s hair – well, there are no words.)

Go away, mom, I am busy. 

Hmm, I wonder what will happen if I put this down. 

Um, mom, it’s no longer making noises and showing pretty pictures.  

HELLO!  Can you help me here?!

I’m really about to lose it, mom. 

I warned you!

How cool of a mom am I that I actually let it reach that point?  Pretty pathetic, right?  Oh well, it makes for a good photo.  I’ll have you know that I opened the laptop for her after this picture, and all was well in Anna land.  At least for 1.2 seconds until she closed the laptop again.  Then I got a genius idea on how to keep this from happening again. 

TAPE!  Yes, this is how trashy, poor people like myself fix things – we just tape ‘em. 

So, now Anna and I can spend more quality time together on our laptops.  Ain’t life grand?

Oh, P.S. -
If you happened to notice that my office looks like a tornado hit it, take a look at this photo:
Anna also likes shredders and shredded paper.  She doesn’t like cleaning it up, though – she leaves that task to me.  Joy.

All choked up.

I have many fears in life - a fear of flying, a fear of throwing up in public, a fear of roaches and butterflies, a fear of Don King's hair.

A fear of choking in public.

I can avoid airplanes and Don King like the plague, but I'm SOL when it comes to choking in public. I have to eat to survive, and I must eat Chili's at least once a week or I'll get the shakes.

So, my co-workers and I made our weekly trip to dine at le Chilitas today.

Things were going great. I was inhaling my weekly fix of salsa and chips, just enjoying the time away from work, when it happened.

I choked.

On a chip.

And some salsa.

It went down the wrong pipe.

I have no idea what the medical term for my "pipe" is called, so I'll continue calling it a pipe.

Let's just say that I sat there in complete panic mode while my lungs were about to explode from lack of air down my pipe.

Should I get up?

Should I do the universal sign for choking?

Hell, what is the universal sign? I've forgotten. Way too much Diet Coke fries the brain.

I look around. My co-workers are oblivious to my suffering. Should I kick them? Throw a chip at them? Bang on the table? Dance on the table? I can't dance, that would be embarrassing.

I try to swallow to clear my pipe. Nothing. Nada.

I try again. No air to my pipe. Help!

I say a silent prayer.

By some miraculous force, the bit of chip went down my pipe. My airway was cleared. Had it not cleared at that exact moment, I would've made an ass out of myself and lunged at the table corner in my own attempt to dislodge the particle of food. That would've been attractive.

I spent the next 10 minutes trying to conceal my panic. Since I'm the queen of over-reaction, I would've loved to have seen my heart rate at that exact moment. It wasn't one of my finer moments.

So, here's my friendly PSA for the week. Don't inhale salsa and chips - even though they're so delicious. A chip could get stuck in your pipe, and it may not dislodge like it did for me. I was one of the lucky ones.

Oh, and to top it all off with a cherry, the next chip I ate stabbed the roof of my mouth. I think it's still in there.

Not pleasant. At all.

My baby ate my cell phone.

Being the responsible mother I am, I decided to let my daughter play with my cell phone. You see, she's teething. This means I'm in teething hell. Aside from giving her a dirty dog bone or a porkchop to gnaw on, I'll give her whatever she wants, whatever it will take to make her stop crying. What usually works, you ask? My cell phone. The child is more addicted to my Blackberry than I am - and that's no small feat. She practically came out of my uterus with a briefcase in one hand and a Blackberry in the other - my future lil' business woman.

I digress.

So, to stop the crying, I handed off my cell phone. I figure, she's only 7 months, what can it hurt?

Dumb move.

After playing with my phone for a few minutes, I glanced over at her and noticed that the screen was completely white and the little Days of Our Life hour glass was spinning round and round. I immediately took the phone away and went into panic mode - 1) because I always overreact in every given situation and 2) my cell phone is company issued - how the heck would I explain this one to my boss?

I took out the battery pack and put it back in. I tapped the phone on my desk because we know this always works, right? I tapped the keys, thumped the screen, did everything under the sun to bring this poor phone back to life. Nothing worked.

My heart sank.

How do I 'splain this one?

I messaged my co-worker and told her the news.

Me: "Anna ate my cell phone."

I threw my own child under the bus. What was I supposed to do?

Co-worker: "Anna did what?"

Me: "She ate my cell phone. I gave it to her to play with, and she ate it, and she broke it."

Co-worker: "Huh?"

Me: "I'm an idiot!"

Co-worker: "Yes, you really are."

I'm totally kidding, she didn't say that, but I'm sure she was thinking it.

After troubleshooting a few more minutes, I finally came to terms with the fact that my cell phone was dead, life support wasn't possible, time to bury it and move on.

Then, a spark of life - a white screen.

A few seconds later - the hour glass makes another appearance. It kept spinning and spinning and spinning until suddenly...

...all of my icons came back! The glorious icons that are the crack rocks to my awful addiction.

My God, it's a miracle.

My phone is alive. ALIVE!

Groundhog Day.

As my alarm went off at the butt-crack of dawn this morning (more like 6:30'ish give or take a few minutes after hitting the snooze button about 10 times), I realized that my life is starting to feel like the poor slob's life on Groundhog Day. My first thought was - wait, didn't I JUST fall asleep? Wasn't I just waking up yesterday, January 9?

While I was in the shower, I was thinking about '06 and how quickly it flew by. With the exception of a few brief moments, I had a hard time remembering any of the events that transpired throughout the year. This memory lapse isn't from my pre-mature Alzheimer's, no, it's because time is passing by too quickly, and I'm not taking the time to slow down and appreciate each day for what it's worth.

A close friend of my mom's recently passed away from a very aggressive form of breast cancer. She went through periods of remission and periods of non-remission. At the end, the cancer had spread throughout her entire body. I met her years ago when Joe and I were insuring my engagement ring (she worked for State Farm). She was the picture of health and beauty.

My great uncle passed away yesterday. He went into the hospital complaining of some back problems on Monday. The doctors ran some tests that day and discovered he had a malignant grown on his liver. They also discovered he had some clotting and made arrangements to perform surgery early yesterday morning to prevent the clots from circulating throughout his body. About an hour prior to his surgery, he passed away. It was that quick.

I didn't go to the hospital to see him because I thought I had more time. I had some things I had to finish at work. In the grand scheme of things, were my menial tasks at work that important? Why didn't I spend more time with my Uncle Bob at my sister's wedding? Had I known it would've been the last time I'd see him alive, I would've attached myself to him the entire night.

I wish I could press an easy button and slow down time. I'll be 29 years old in a few months. My sister is a married woman now. My parents are approaching their mid-50s. My cat Sam will be 13 in July.

I remember when 29 seemed so old. I remember holding my sister when she was a baby. I remember when my parents were close to my age. I remember buying Sam from the Pet shop at Lakeside Mall. All of this seems like it was yesterday. How did all of this time pass without me realizing how quickly life flows? Why didn't I take the time to appreciate Sam when she was a kitten or play with my sister more when she was a child?

I'm not sure why I'm so pensive right now. I hate being like this, actually. Maybe it's the time of year. I'm usually always kind of bummed around this time of year. Perhaps it's because this year has already started off in such a crappy fashion.

My post is very random. I just re-read it and really can't make sense out of it, so I'm sorry if you're confused. I guess my point is that life has become so routine. We wake up, go to work, eat, sleep, workout - not necessarily in that order. We don't try to make our days significant. It's sad that I can only remember a handful of significant days in '06. I'll bet my mom's friend lived each day to the fullest after finding out about her cancer. Each day of life was a special gift, and she cherished it and made it the best day she possibly could.

I'm not talking about taking trips to Fugi or climbing Mount Everest to make your life meaningful (we all know how dumb I think that idea is). I'm talking about going to PetSmart on your lunch break to play with the kittens for adoption or bringing your spouse/significant other a surprise lunch at work or walking along the lakefront/beach and smelling the water - these things are significant. These are the memories that fill our days and carry us through the years. Taking the time to appreciate the little things, not dwell on the big things, and to look forward to all things - this is what I need to focus on this year. I need to change my outlook.

We all need to look at life through the eyes of someone who just found out they have a terminal illness. Make the best of the time we have on this Earth and focus on ways we can improve our life and the lives of those we love and care about. Bake some cookies for the elderly neighbor who has no family. Take a care package to the lady down the street who is caring for her dying husband. Sometimes we need to take the focus off ourselves for a while.

A Beagle, A Lottery Ticket and a Dream.

I am kind of anxious and excited right now - I'll tell you why.

Yesterday, on my way home from work, I saw a beagle running up and down one of the busiest streets in my area. It was quite evident that the dog was someone's beloved pet, so I turned my car around just in time to see it almost get hit. I knew at that point - 100 that I had to get the dog out of that situation. I'm always a bit apprehensive in dog rescue situations because I'm never sure of the dog's temperament or how I will handle the situation once I actually have the animal in my car - what if I can't find its owners, what if I can't find someone to adopt it, etc.

So, throwing caution to the wind (this is the first time I've used that phrase in a sentence - I like it), I pulled on a side street and used my best "call dog" voice possible "Come here, baby, come here darlin'!" Like a pro, the little dog turned around and ran over to me like we'd been pals for years. What a cute, cute beagle (one of my favorite breeds)! So, I picked the dog up and put her in my car. Actually, I opened my car door, and she jumped right in. At that point I KNEW she was someone's pet - also the huge dog tag dangling from her neck was a good indication.

So, first thing's first - what's her name? Gypsy. Cute. It's obvious from her running away shenanigans that the name suits her pefectly. Is there a phone number? YES! So, I nervously dialed the number from my cell phone hoping that her owner would pick up. Answering machine. DAMN! Ok, so I left a message. On to the next number. Within a second Gypsy's owner answered the phone. I explained to him that I had his dog and that she was running around on a busy street. He and a friend had been out looking for her. She must've turned into David Copperfield for a second and escaped without a trace.

So, we made plans to meet at my office b/c he lived down a nearby street and was out and about anyway. I get to my office and he's already there waiting for me. He's super excited that he found his dog and extremely grateful. He kept calling me a "good samaritan" and telling me "you done good, girl". I was very happy to be able to facilite a reunion with his dog. I could tell that she was well taken care of. I went home and kind of forgot about the whole situation.

Fast forward to today.

I get back from having lunch with my co-workers, and one of my other co-workers tells me that the man brought by a card for me and told her about what had happened. Up until this point, I hadn't told the story to anyone because I didn't really think they'd care. So, I explained everything to them. They know how much of an animal fanatic I am, so it came as no surprise to them.

Well, I was quite surprised! When I opened the card the man gave me, 5 lottery tickets fell out. I'm not much for the lotto - Joe and I will buy one or two tickets every once in a while, but I never pay it too much mind. I do have to admit, though, now I'm kind of excited to see how this pans out. It's kind of like the "pay it forward" principle. If you haven't seen the movie, go out and rent it tonight. Does one good deed really transpire into more good deeds? What if these lottery tickets are actually worth something? How crazy would that be? I will have to keep you posted.

The Old Man Next Door.

My company re-located offices to a very old and quaint area of town right before Katrina hit. We're in a beautiful, old building that's situated in a residential area. I love it here because our office space feels very home-y, and the neighbors and neighborhood are just wonderful.

A few months ago I noticed an older gentleman who lives in the house next to our office. He waves to me every morning. He's usually outside in the mornings with his little dog. I never really understood what he was doing outside because he would just stand around staring off into space. My first thought was that he was an Alzheimer's patient, but after watching him one morning, I saw him get on a bus. I always wondered where he was going and what he was doing.

My co-worker's grandfather was recently in a car accident and has since had his car keys taken away from him. Old age is cruel, unfair and inevitable. I can't imagine being stripped of my independence, but when your inability to think quickly and see clearly starts affecting your ability to drive, there's no other option. I digress. After the car accident, my co-worker walked over and started talking to the old man next door. She found out that the bus brings him to a local community center where seniors get to engage in all sorts of fun activities - line dancing, bingo, aerobics classes, etc. I think this is a fantastic program!

Since she first talked to him, they've become friends of sorts. He's opened up about his life to her, and she relays all of this information to me. Today she told me that the little dog he played with every day and took on hour long walks had to be put to sleep a few weeks ago. This just broke my heart. I know he's lonely. His wife passed away, he never sees his children, no one is ever over there with him - I imagine his dog was his only companion (besides the friends he has at the community center). I just feel like running over there and giving him a big hug. My heart is connected to this man for some reason.

I'm not sure why I posted this here. I guess I just need to collect my thoughts. When she told me about his dog I started crying (like an idiot). I just feel so sorry for him. I just wish that there was something I could do for him. I can't imagine being lonely at that stage of your life - everything and everyone you love is dying around you and you're just standing there watching it happen.