I've Behaved Badly

I am sorry that I made fun of my cousin’s name (not to her face) vociferously by asking what my aunt was thinking lo those many years ago. My father pursed his lips in vague disapproval, but my mother suppressed a laugh that suggested she's been holding it inside for twenty years.

On the other hand, I did not tell my mother that her roast would be better suited to re-soling my work boots (a slice of roast should be not harder than the table upon which it was served, nor hold its gravy like cream cheese on melba toast.) No need to repent for something you did not say (I think.)

I apologize to my children, but not really, because after spending a day where one would antagonize the other until he screamed his high-pitched scream every five minutes, they do not deserve an apology.

In fact, I am still owed an apology since they so rudely interrupted the sacred Sunday nap on a constant basis; being in a semi-dream like state, I couldn’t actually arise and lock the door. Things did not go well. I resented them for hours.

I may have completely ignored them when they cried. I am not apologizing for that. Moms only have so many screams per day that can be responded to before ignoring the rest.

I do apologize that I made other people handle my children because I was ignoring them.

I am sorry that I sat on the couch Tweeting instead of sitting down to dinner when everyone else was (but brownie points for not telling my mom that I wasn’t TEXTING, I was TWEETING, and they are different.) I needed to be alone for a few minutes before sitting down with a whole bunch of people that might say something kind and innocent that, in fact, is the most annoying thing I have ever heard in my entire life.

Perhaps I shocked my mother by not borrowing a coat for my eldest when he rode home in the dark. I am sorry that she felt bad for my child. I am not sorry that my child was cold because he deliberately decided he wasn’t going to wear a coat. It’s a lesson you learn when you live someplace with Winter. However, asking him out of my car window if he felt cold now was probably unnecessary salt on the wound.

I tender sincere apologies to the church ladies, who greeted me happily at the Sunday night meeting, to which I responded without making eye contact and a curt response. That was rude. In my defense, I wanted to be watching the Super Bowl, which is not really a defense nor in any way excusable, and I feel badly about that. I feel like I should apologize for going to the restroom; you started the meeting while I was using the facilities and I therefore missed conducting the music--one of the only reasons I was supposed to be in attendance. My bladder is penitent; the baby remains defiant.

I was, in general, a miserable person to be around that day, and terribly mean. I am sorry.

A Wakeup Call From My Blog

"Hey Blog, how's it going?"
"Oh, HAI Carina, isn't that what you're calling yourself these days?"
"Carina is my name, it's what most people call me."
"But your handle has been Azúcar for so long, people don't know you by Carina and now it looks affected that you're using your real name."
"First of all, props for the proper use of 'affected' and second, I'm not going to have a conversation with you, Blog, about whether I can or can't use my real name. Drop it."
"Fine, whatever, I'm just saying."
"I'm busy, Blog, with important things, more important things with you. Why did you call?"
"I heard a rumor about you."
"I'm sure you hear a lot of rumors about me."
"I heard that some of your friends, like Vanessa, said they "want to be like Carina when they grow up."
"That was nice of them to say, wow, I'm blushing."
"Right, you don't blush. Anyway, they don't know that you're a nerd."
"I'm not a nerd!"
"Yes, you are, you are a total nerd."
"How can I be a nerd? I own and wear these shoes!"

"You are a nerdy-nerdy-nerd, no matter what shoes, what pants, what shirt you're wearing."
"I have just figured out how to dress myself, that's all."
"Yeah, after years of trial, error, and some really questionable fashion choices that involved the color peach."
"How was I supposed to know I can't wear peach, or really any pastel colors?"
"Well you know now, don't you? I mean really, peach moiré taffeta, could you have picked a worse color for your prom dress?"
"I just thought the watermark on the taffeta was so elegant."
"Snort. And how funny was it that not only did you pick peach moiré taffeta, but that your mom made your dress, and when you got to prom you were in a group with another girl whose mother made her dress and you had both used the same pattern--you were wearing the same homemade dress!"
"Yeah, and hers was far more elegant, being made of black and white, and not peach taffeta."
"Nah-heard."
"I've grown out of that, I am not a nerd."
"Let me ask you a question, did you buy a book this week?"
"Yes."
"And is this book The Gathering Storm, the twelfth book in the Wheel of Time fantasy series by Robert Jordan? A series that you've been reading since 1993?"

"Yes. They're really good though, promise."
"Oh, I'm sure they are. Aren't you planning on taking a day off this week just so you can read your nerd-gastic fantasy novel?"
"I have to take time off, you know that, or I'll lose my paid days at the end of the year."
"And didn't you freak out when Robert Jordan died and were unable to even talk about how this series that you'd spent fifteen years reading might not ever end? And you resented Harry Potter fans for getting predictable and compact release cycles?"
"It was a difficult time."
"NERD."
"But I'm all pop culture aware and listen to cool music!"
"Poser. You're a poser nerd. That's even worse than a regular nerd. You watch all these hip TV shows, like Gossip Girl and Vampire Diaries, but deep down, you are still crying over the end of Battlestar Galactica. Sometimes you even watch shows, like Castle, or Smallville just because they have the same actors as Battlestar, or Firefly, or whatever nerd show you love."
"Remember how Helo and Colonel Tigh are on Dollhouse right now? That's so awesome."
"NERDY nerd! Only nerds call actors by their old character names on their new show. Mostly because you can't let go of the past. Battlestar, sheesh, I can't believe you watched that show."
"Hey, you're hurting my feelings!"
"Whatever, this is just a pattern. Do you recall your first crush? While all your friends were pledging their hearts to Kirk Cameron, Johnny Depp, or Corey Haim, your heart belonged to Wil Wheaton."
"Sigh. I know. I had such a crush on him. He was in this TV movie starring as the young Harry Houdini? And then he was on Star Trek: The Next Generation, which I never missed, as Ensign Wesley Crusher.I thought I would die from his cute. Seriously, my heart hurt every time I saw him."
"And then years later you ran into Wil Wheaton's blog and found out that he was a Dungeons and Dragons playing computer nerd. Is it any wonder that you married a computer nerd who was a former D&D player?"
"I guess it's not exactly a shock, is it?"
"It's about as shocking as snow in January. It's all just a pattern of nerdery that you've gotten really good at hiding with MAC makeup, learned ease in social situations, and remembering that no one wants to hear about cold war theories."
"You know, there's nothing wrong with being a nerd! We've changed the world! Steve Jobs is a nerd! Everything you see, from your computer, your phone, the Internet, LoLcats, it all came from nerds!"
"Just what a nerd would say."
"I glad I'm a nerd! I'm glad I love science, genetics, history, and know about the Crystalline Entity. I listen to music obsessively and read sci-fi/fantasy. I know what an RPG is and wish I could be more like Starbuck! I watch Joss Wheadon shows and sing Dr. Horrible songs all the time. All your base are belong to us! There's nothing wrong with that!"
"Just don't tell anyone, OK? We have a reputation to maintain. We're The Jet Set."
"My lips are sealed."

The Fallout

I bopped into my salon last Saturday and there was my favorite stylist looking at me with a flat expression. He waved me over to the mac next to his station (hey, when did that get put there?) and said, “Let’s take a look at this blog…”

Oh, right.

Uhm.

I tried to explain how really, really a blog entry is a display of affection and/or that no publicity is bad publicity. Something like that, right? He gave me the slanted eye look of doom and then gave me another phenomenal style. Say what you will, and we all did, email or no email, the kid can cut.


And speaking of letting the public weigh in, according to the poll I will not be reading the Twilight books. All of the Internets spoke and I must abide by their choice.


I’m not entirely sure what is up with Blogger: although I’ve been getting your comments by email, it’s only adding a couple of new comments a day to that post. Maybe it’s a giant vampiric conspiracy.
Yes, that’s what it has to be, the corridors of Mountain View are running rampant with the nerdy undead.

In This Day and Age?

My hairstylist, let's call him Patrick (because that's his name) doesn't have an email address. He considers this a source of pride. I consider that, and the fact that the salon he works for doesn't have a website, an absurdity. I hate that I have to call them on the phone to make an appointment, like it's 1975 or something. I should be able to log onto the salon's site and pick a time, not hope that Ma Bell gosh-durned remembered to hang up the other end of the party line.

Don't worry, I teased Patrick unmercifully. As the shampoo girl expressed her awe at his refusal to join modern life, I snidely remarked that not having email, or even purposefully avoiding the Internet, was hopelessly stupid. How does he do his banking? He mails a check. A what? How does he Google something? He doesn't. (How is that even possible? I mean, he can’t even Google himself or his exs? That’s insanity.) The whole experience was utterly unnerving.

Then I heard about other celebrities (other than local hair stars) that are equally resistant to our brave new world. Vince Vaughn refuses to get a cell phone, he’ll borrow from a friend if he needs to use one immediately. OK, I hate that; it’s one thing to not get a cell phone, but to rely on your friend’s phones because you can’t be bothered is annoying. If he were my friend, Vaughn had better be paying for not only all the dinners but all the cocaine as well, or I’d be sending him my T-Mobile bill for reimbursement.

I think there is a clear age divide, of course. I can see how Emma Thompson refuses to use anything other than a pen (she’s 49) but Orlando Bloom refusing to own a computer? What a turd. Larry King has never searched for anything online. I think if you were around for the Panic of 1837, you’re exempt from using the Internet.

President Bush doesn’t use email for fear of it being subpoenaed. Why stress, Georgie? It’s not like you’ve ever done anything that could cause a subpoenae to be issued!

So, to Patrick I say, Tom Cruise also refuses to get an email address. Your judgment is in line with SeñorCruise, how do you feel about that? I guess I'll have to take pen to paper to get that question answered.