Hey y'all (sometimes I like to inject my complete Okie-ness into my speech and use y'all, but only in text, never in speech) I changed my blog. Visit me at amandaup.com. It's super fun over there!
October 30, 2012
Sunday morning I very gently placed my iPhone on a side table where side table equals inside a full glass of water.
I have now been iPhoneless for 3 days. Do you even know what that does to a person?
Not only am I now using a flip phone circa 2000, I no longer have the world at my fingertips.
What’s a girl to do when she can’t check Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, Email, all those “is there an app for that?” apps?!
She goes off grid…ish. That’s what. And maybe goes a little crazy at the same time.
So I’m writing on my blog. So I’m using a laptop connected to wifi to post my blog. So I have access to my email, Facebook, and Twitter on that laptop. Who cares? It’s not the same, I tell you!
Who seriously uses their personal computers anymore? Anyone? Because I don’t. The only time I turn mine on is to upload photos or write a blog post. I literally do every last little thing on my phone.
If I want to know who a certain celebrity from a show is I use my IMDB app. If I want to take a quick photo I use Instagram. If I want to post something snarky I hop on Twitter. If I want to know the answer to something really quick I Google it from Safari.
Seriously. What am I supposed to do with a stinkin’ flip phone circa 2000? How am I supposed to live?!
The fact that I even feel this way is quite disgusting. What happened to the days when I didn’t have a phone at all other than the rotary dial sitting on the telephone table next to my dad’s recliner? What happened to waiting in line to make a phone call because someone else in the family was using it? What happened to sitting down and reading a book or drawing a picture because being on the phone was the last thing from my mind?
I miss those days. Those days before I had some type of phone with me at all times. The days when just being in the moment was enough.
But at the same time I want my phone back. I NEED my phone back. I feel lost without it. My IMDB app is my life!
You know what else is disgusting? I feel like I’m no longer part of the iPhone Club. You know the one I’m talking about. The one that practically everyone you know is in because they too have iPhone’s so you’re never without a way to charge your beloved never has a fully charged battery connection to the world. Say you’re at Suzy Q’s house and your phone dies. No worries! She’s got a charger right there at the end of her kitchen counter! You’re golden!
Nobody has a charger for this unidentified circa 2000 flip phone. I’d bet money on it. I’m out of the club. Kicked to the curb. Sayonara loser.
I miss you iPhone. I hope we’ll be together again soon. Because you and me? We’re like orange sherbet and a waffle cone. We just make sense.
Oh, Instagram! I miss you so dang much!
October 26, 2012
She stands at the window looking in. It’s as if she’s watching her life unfold right before her eyes, but she can’t do anything to stop it or change it. Nobody can hear her. She bangs on the window with her fists. Yelling. Pleading for them to hear her. But no one looks up. No one notices she’s there. She falls to the ground in a heap. Crying. Wiping her eyes and her nose. Wishing she could change it all. Wishing she could just get someone to notice her, but they never do. They just continue to move forward without her as she sits and watches.
She hears a noise. She looks up. She thinks someone has noticed her. Someone is finally going to come wipe away here tears. Someone is finally going to take her into their arms. Someone is finally going to let her in. But no one is looking at her. She’s still invisible.
The noise she heard was a girl. Laughing.
She peers through the window at the girl. She thinks its herself. She’s watching herself move about inside the house. But it’s not her, it’s someone else. Another girl. Living her life. Laughing her laughs. Speaking her words. In frustration she pounds on the window. She’s up on her knees. She’s screaming at the top of her lungs, “why?! Why?! Why can’t you see me? I’m right here! I’m right outside! Please come and help me…” But no one hears. Nobody comes. And she falls back to the ground and the tears flow again.
She’s so lost. So alone. So afraid. She can’t believe this is happening to her.
She wonders what she did wrong. What she did right. What she didn’t say. What she said that was too much.
She thought she was good enough. She thought she was strong enough. She thought she could do it all.
But now, she sits with tears rolling down her cheeks, looking through the glass into her world. The world she should be in, but she isn’t and she wonders why.
October 17, 2012
Sometimes I lay awake at night. Ok, it’s every night. Because, you know, I have self diagnosed insomnia, but anyway, the point is I lay awake at night and I think about all the things I’ve done wrong in my life. If I could go back and change it all.
Except, if I went back and changed every single thing I think I’ve ever done wrong would I be where I am today?
Would I be living in a home that I love? That I’m on my way to owning?!
Would I have a different job? A better job? No job at all?
Would my family love me? Would I love them?
Would my friends like me? Would I even have friends?
Would I have a college degree? Would I have gone to college?
Would I be healthy? Would I even be alive?
Would I be with the person I’m with?
I have no idea what the answers to these questions are and you know what? I think that’s a good thing. Even though it keeps me up night after night.
(Sometimes I stay awake and think about how crispy and delicious bacon is. Those are good nights.)
If we could actually go back and change things. If we had time machines, for example, would it really make our lives any better? Would it really make us better people? I don’t think it would make me better or my life better. Without everything I’ve done and without all the mistakes I’ve made how would I have learned anything? How would I be who I am today? I could be some crazy weirdo lady who makes rubber band balls in her spare time. I don’t want to be that lady!
So, after realizing that I may have done some things wrong along the way, I may have made some not so great decisions, and I may wish I was rich, rich, rich I finally drift off to sleep knowing that I am a happy person. I like where I’m at in my life. I love my family. I love my man. And I love bacon.
Life is good.
September 14, 2012
FYI, random with an s on the end which is randoms is totally a word, in case you were wondering.
Here’s the dill, I like to type words the way I speak them.
Well, that’s not altogether true or I’d type pAnk instead pink and wAWt instead what. I mean, some of the stuff I say is really out there and strange to look at when typed out.
Again, here’s the dill.
I took this picture on my recent trip to Las Vegas and Tucson with my iPhone and the ProHDR App.
I posted it to the FB. That’s slang for fist bump. Kidding! It’s Facebook, yo.
Anyway, I digress. I posted it to the FB and one of my online yet also real life in person friends commented that it looks like bacon.
And you know what?! It totally does!
Here’s my problem with this statement.
Ok, I have a few problems with it.
1. I love bacon.
2. How did I, the self professed lover of bacon that I am, not notice that The Painted Desert looks like layer upon layer of savory strips of bacon?!
3. This is unacceptable!
4. I love bacon.
I would just like to state for the record that loving bacon is not a problem it’s just a fact of my life.
Now, I know this photo does NOT look like food. Especially food I'm head over heels in love with.
I feel better now.