It was a “Big Chill” kind of weekend. You know the kind. Good friends, couples, hanging around a house together for 48 hours straight.
Not everyone was a couple though. Sara wasn’t anymore and I could tell she was lonely in the way a person is when it’s not how they want to be. Even surrounded by friends.
Saturday morning, I flopped down on the couch resting my chin on her shoulder. “You can continue sitting here idle, lamenting about your situation, or we could do something. Show me how it works.”
I’d never seen Match.com before. It was fascinating! I had a million questions.
“What’s a “wink”? Who’s viewed you? Do you message them? Do they know we're looking at them too? Deleting this guy?”
“Our signs aren’t compatible.”
“That matters?!?”
“Not just that. Interests, education, employment, importance of family, can I picture myself naked with them?”
“Aren't you getting ahead of yourself? How do I see more guys like him? Here we go!”
She sighed. “I’m bad at this. What am I doing wrong?”
“Nothing. Show me some emails.”
Oh boy!
So for the next few hours I enthusiastically handpicked guys based on profiles best suiting Sara. And photos, being much more interested in the context of said photos (children, family, friends) rather than chiseled cheeks and gorgeous eyes. Ok, I’m a sucker for eyes so those added points.
Gaining her confidence by my stellar first selections she said, “Email them.”
“Me?”
“Yep!” She walked away.
Feeling likeCyrano de Bergerac, I did. The gist…
I’m married writing on Sara’s behalf. She’s hilarious, creative, intelligent, I’m a little jealous of her hot body (which I am). I promise you’ll laugh. This is so fun.
It was a cute email and I was sucked in.
“Who viewed “us”? Do “we” have mail yet? Any winks?”
Currently, “we” have a successful reply rate.
I tell my kids, “It’s not always what you say but how you say it.”
Now it’s up to her.
***********************
I wrote this for Trifecta's 33-333 word prompt for the 3rd definition of
Please
check out both places for some of the most outstanding and creative writing on the
interwebs. Don’t forget the The Yeah Write Speakeasy too for your fiction and
poetry fix.
It runs in families, so Wikipedia says, yet I haven't found convincing evidence of this. I only know what it means
for me and there isn’t really anything I can do about
it. It may last a few nights or a few weeks. It’s definitely cyclical, for me. And it’s exhausting.
WebMD says 3.7% of participants report two or more
episodes per month. I'm in the 96.3% where it occurs much more
frequently. If I’m sleepwalking, I’m doing it almost every night.
My unconventional behavior started when I was a kid. Mom
said when she’d come in to check on me before she went to bed, I’d often be
chattering. She’d sit on the edge of my bed engaging me in conversations. I’d
mumble incoherent responses but, sometimes, she could make out words and
phrases. Apparently, she used this as her entertainment. My dad traveled.
I don't blame her. I did the same same thing with my non-walking but sleeptalking daughter. Try it if you have the opportunity. Good times!
Before anyone gets all freaky knowing more about my
personal sleeping habits, think of me as simply a regular girl on the go. And be happy
you don’t sleep with me because I will wake you up frequently.
My "other" nighttime world commenced again two
nights ago.
Standing directly over my husband on his
side of the bed, I woke to him saying, “I don’t know where your iPad is.”
“What are you talking about?” I countered.
“Just get back in bed, please.” And I did.
According to Wikipedia, it's thought sleepwalking is acting out a dream but, apparently, it has little to do with
dreaming. In fact, it occurs when the sleeper is enjoying the most oblivious,
deepest sleep in which dreams are not usually reported.
There was no iPad in my dream.
Last night, he called out from bed, “Where are you
going? Come back here.” as I walked out of our bedroom around 1:30.
I remember thinking, “I don’t know.” and simply returned to bed.
I’m inclined to point the finger at him lately. His
snoring, sniffling, or “whatever(s)” are keeping me from sleeping soundly but we both know that's not it. I’ve been doing this in some
form or fashion my whole life including the “pre-snoring” days. He's so nice about it. I know I probably wouldn't be.
In fact, my self-diagnosed "light sleeper syndrome" is called being a mom.
Again, Wikipedia notes sleepwalking arises during ourslow wave, deep sleep stage as a state of low consciousness and sleepwalkers perform activities that are generally done during full
consciousness. These activities can be as benign as sitting up in bed, walking
to the bathroom, cleaning, or as hazardous as cooking, driving, or grabbing at hallucinated objects and sometimes,worse.
And it's true, sleepwalking usually occurs during the first
third of the night (between 11 p.m. and 1 a.m.), at least for me.
Things I’ve done while sleepwalking aren't substantial. I'm inclined to walk around, ask questions and say nonsensical
stuff. Frequently, I find myself in our foyer or the
kitchen and I’ve been known to sit at my computer in the study but I'm definitely
on the first floor if no one catches me.
When I'm descending the stairs, I do have semi-conscious
thoughts like, “What am I doing? Where am I going? Why am I doing this?”
It’s always answered with, “How the hell do I know?”
I don’t stop; I can’t stop. I keep going.
By the time I reach my final destination, wherever
that is, I’m usually cognizant and silently screaming, “Get back in bed! Damn it."
However, then I’m wide awake. So if anyone is up for a game of “Words With
Friends” during the night, hit me up! I don’t play but I will. Per Wikipedia, a report was published in 2008 of a woman who sent semi-coherent emails while sleepwalking, including one inviting a friend for dinner and drinks. Please note if you receive such emails from me during sleepy-time, I'll be surprised when you show up.
Sleepwalking episode tend to range from quietly walking about a room to agitated running or attempts to "escape." When questioned, our responses are typically slow or absent while we quietly roam.
In the not too distant past, I walked out of my house onto my front porch. It felt extremely weird waking up outside. Thankfully it was springtime but it was very discomforting like I'd crossed a different boundary and that was scary.
It certainly doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure
out what causes sleepwalking. Sleep deprivation, chaotic sleep schedules, stress, alcohol intoxication or drugs such as sedatives are the culprits as stated by WebMD. For me, it seems to happen when I’m NOT imbibing at all. I don’t use
drugs of any kind including sleep aides so I attribute it to the first three.
Goodsleep hygiene is also recommended to reduce sleepwalking as documented on Wikipedia.
I assure you; I go to bed squeaky clean and
smelling pretty darn good every night but I stay up far too late stimulating my
brain with books. Good sleep is dependent on good sleeping habits (think babies, I guess!) and reading late into the night has been a habit since I was a child.
There's also crazy Freudian research stated on Wikipedia saying that sleepwalking
is connected to fulfillment of sexual wishes. I don't buy it. Freud also claims that unconscious
impulses and day residues colliding are to blame and the resulting conflict is mobility during sleep.
Now that makes perfect sense to me!
However, can my unconscious impulses and day residues get along for
once?
All I want is uninterrupted sleep on a
consistent basis.
Pretty please?
******************************
This is NOT me but this is what it's like I'm sure if someone were to video me! Apparently the video went viral. It's short and hilarious! Here is the video of her reaction but watch what she's doing in the upper left corner; that's the sleepwalking bit. Tears are rolling down my face as I'm typing this!
The
ladies running the show over at Monday Music Moves Me (Xmas Dolly, Stacy
Uncorked, Cathy Kennedy, and Shakira) have provided the most awesome theme for
this week’s music selections!
SONGS FROM THE YEAR YOUR CHILDREN WERE BORN
My
kids are old-ish so that means I must be too…nah! It’s all about the age you
are in your head! At least to me. Here's to 1990 and 1993. While I was working, preparing bottles, warming jars of food and cutting up PB&J's, I was also listening and dancing!
In
1990, Phil Collins had several songs in the top 100. Wilson Phillips was new on
the charts with harmonies and lyrics that drew me in so completely that I ran
out for their album. Janet Jackson was making a run and Milli Vanilli hadn’t
been “found out” yet.
It
was difficult for me to choose just two songs from this year. So I picked one
that I still love from Heart that’s a bit scandalous if you listen to the words.
I’ve always loved those two rocker chicks!
And
the other was the one I sang and danced to the most in the early 90’s playing
at every single party for the next several years. Remember the B52?
1993
seemed to be all about Whitney and I Will
Always Love You. Meatloaf was jamming I’d Do Anything For Love (But I Won’t
Do That) as she belted out those ballads.
I
was and still am touched by Stings song, Fields
Of Gold. It makes my mind drift to places and people I love to remember.
I
played Aerosmith’s Cryin’ constantly.
Feel in love with the video on MTV and young Alicia Silverstone. Just wait until the end of this. Pretty damn good and a nice screw you!
And
I just had to add a third. Rod might creep out some of you but he was all that
back in the early days (despite the crazy stomach stories, if you know what I
mean…) and this is my absolute, hands down, favorite song of his! He’s singing
it live and I love that everyone sings it with him.
I spent part of my afternoon today searching for the perfect dress to wear to a
wedding in California in a few weekends. Very exciting in theory….
I tried
on at least twenty dresses. No really, 20!!! If you’re going to strip down in a
dressing room under God awful fluorescent lights, you might as well keep them
coming. Something’s going to stick, right?
I
have a few observations about the “trying on” experience:
-Rachel Zoe- Make your stuff bigger.
-Designers in general- When your tag says size 6 (or 8, or 10, or 12, or
14, or 2), why doesn’t it fit someone of that size?
-Regular women, normally shaped women, any woman needs to fit TWO of
everything in your apparel item. That means two arms, two legs, two shoulders,
and two boobs (1.5 doesn't really work...well...). We won’t/can’t buy it if you accommodate only ONE of any of
these things. Period!
-More than 50% of the dresses are as short as Britney Spears might have
worn five years ago and I’m sure you can figure out what I’m talking about.
-Stuff always looks better on the hanger especially when the first one
you see is a Size 2.
Even
with the odds stacked against me, and after trying on just about everything in
my size and taste, I did find a really fun, elegant and “on sale” dress.
The
very best part…
I
found gorgeous shoes that go perfectly (why can’t clothes be more like shoes?).
I’m not one to be matchy, matchy (and they don’t) but these stilettos are tied
in just enough to call attention all on their own.
How
can someone ADORE shoes so much? I don’t have an answer and answers aren’t
always important, are they?
Just
wish the whole clothes trying on experience was a tiny bit easier!
AND,
I don’t care for getting locked out of my fitting room every time I go to show
someone what I have on? Pain in the rear, really!
