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Archive for March, 2006

BFF

So, here’s something embarrassing. And isn’t that what life’s all about; embarrassing ourselves? Doing things that normal people may not do and then sharing it with anyone within gossip distance?

Because I hang out with mainly single emotionally immature comedian, writer, actress types, I was peer pressured into joining My Space. Yes, I know, I know, I could very easily get arrested for trying to get into some 13 year old’s pants. I’ve seen it on Dateline like the rest of America but…here’s the thing. One night while boredly perusing the My Space features, I realized that you could put in searches for distinct things such as married women who live in my zip code. So I did it. It wasn’t a prerequisite that they have a baby because I know many interesting people with no kids but I did want to see if anyone with any semblence of a personality lived within spitting distance of my suburban house. Well, I hit paydirt. One woman, early thirties, hilarious profile, happily married, cute pic (hey, I’m not gay but no one needs really unattractive friends am I right?) popped up in my search. She seemed very funny in her profile which you know is rare. A rare commodity which I would gladly pay for.

I’m a total girls girl. Let that be mentioned now. I have always had a best friend. I do love men with all my heart, hell, I’m even married to one, but I really really relate to women. And not in a “let’s get manni pedi’s and shop til we drop” kind of way. I’m so not girlie in that way except when it comes to my not so small obsession with lip gloss. I can’t seem to own enough, so okay, I’m a little girlie. But I’m also addicted to online poker and follow football each and every season. ANYWAY…

I asked the My Space girl, let’s just call her Shannon, to be my friend and she said yes. Isn’t that so third grade? But it turns out, she lives literally down the street from me so after a lot of emailing back and forth to be sure this wasn’t some Single White Female situation, we had coffee. And we clicked. Don’t you just love clicking with a new girlfriend? Like you can talk and talk and time flies and you forget about your “possible” drinking problem and your unrelenting anxiety and the boring state of your life for a few glorious hours? And today we hung out again. She’s cool with babies – loves them in fact. Or is a good actress, has many of the same interests as I do and I could listen to her talk for days. Plus, my favorite, she’s open and honest and not afraid to tell me embarrassing shit on our second date.

I am in! And if any of you decide to move to LA, we can be friends too. I’ve got enough female love to go around!

Posted by Stefanie Wilder Taylor on March 6, 2006 4:48 amUncategorized18 comments  

What Being a Crazy/Hip/Blogger/Mama Means To Me

Okay, so to be a participant in the Crazy Hip Mama Bloggers I must say what that exactly means to me. Suddenly I feel like I’m in school. Which if you think about it, might be a nice alternative to the six loads of laundry I do everyday not including the one I do in my sleep, the three nutritious meals I prepare (with the help of the microwave) for my baby, the endless diapers and limited time to do important shit like check my email or read my Body Shop catalog. At least in school I could read my catalog while pretending to be reading a science textbook like I used to do with my Judy Blume books.
But back to the topic at hand. I was drawn to the CHMB just by the name itself. It said to me, here are some women who probably do not resemble the pod people in my neighborhood. They might actually think about things like why the fuck Britney married K-fed and why is K-fed trying to sing. I mean, have you heard him? He sounds like someone doing a bad mockery of Eminem. I know that CHMB know who Eminem is and that makes me feel safe inside.
I want to read and be read by people who don’t think I’m out of my mind for my outpouring of honestly. A little crazy yes but dangerous no. I want to be understood for my stance on how difficult a task being a mother is and that yes, of course it’s worth it, but that should go without saying at this point. I mean we’re mothers. It’s like people who say “but God Bless her” when they say something mean about someone. You don’t need to do that when you’re a mom. I want to be able to bitch about motherhood to people who get it and know that they aren’t going to call social services (without really good reason). And I want to read and be read by moms who identify themselves as more than “I’m my kid’s mom.” I want to be read by people who are interested in talking about politics, babyfood, poker, tampons, and Tom Cruise in equal measure.

That’s what being a CRAZY, HIP, MAMA BLOGGER MEANS TO ME!

Posted by Stefanie Wilder Taylor on 4:19 amUncategorized6 comments  

Can I be honest with you? Good. I have a very compulsive side. An obsessive/compulsive side to be exact. I don’t know the extent to which this affects my life because I’ve always been this way so I’m used to it. But I do notice from time to time that I’m a bit different from people that can say…work in an office full time or people who don’t get migraines or people who don’t want to murder people they see in their car on a cellphone when they themselves are…on a cellphone. Is cellphone one word now? I’m going with that spelling and don’t try to talk me out of it. Okay, so finally, I went to shrink (this was a while ago) and said I was feeling “anxious.” Turns out, this is how I’ve been feeling most of my life for various reasons not all of them I feel comfortable sharing here. But, in the spirit of honesty, let’s just say that my childhood was a bit chaotic.

I know I could choose to look on the bright side, that being I’m a more creative person because of it, but I could also be bitter that I now have to be medicated (and I’m not just talking about wine) on a daily basis. Well, that certainly isn’t sooo different. I mean, SSRI’s are one of the most commonly prescribed meds in the US where we feel entitled to feel good. Calm. Serene. I, of course, refuse to do yoga or meditate or do anything that might be boring so I’m taking the Zoloft and seeing if I do calm down with the anxious thinking.

A lot of it comes with the territory of being a mother. I do realize that. Everyday there are hurdles that you don’t see coming. Hurdles that can trip you like a clothes line. Hurdles like the ER visits I describe in earlier blogs or even small hurdles like a rainy day at home with a baby 12 hours straight or a house that never seems to get clean. (hang on…refill)…I’e been trying to find alternatives to some of the regular things I do with my child. Like, the other day I took her to an indoor playground type thing. You know the type of place. It was called Under the Sea and to highlight this there were full wall murals of mermaids and octopus etc. Side note: can you believe a James Bond movie got away with calling itself “Octopussy?” WTF? Anyway…we went to said playground and my daughter had a great time. She ran around to all the different plastic cars and turned their steering wheels and beeped their horns, she peed up her diaper something furious and, naturally, I hadn’t brought an extra cause I didn’t know we were ending up there. But I was bored. Wishing for a friend. Even the woman at the desk would’ve passed for conversation with me but she was on the phone the whole time.

This is when I had one of those moments. Those moments that hit you hard that maybe, just maybe you weren’t meant for this. Not this much all day focus on the baby intesely worried about her needs for play and stimulation and what she wants to eat, drink, watch etc. But then I think, maybe that’s my fault. Maybe it’s personality driven. Maybe I do this to myself. Do other women feel this way? Maybe I shouldn’t worry so much about what she wants to do and just know that some days will be more fun for her and some days the most we will do is drive to Trader Joes.

This is my obsession. I go back and forth on it every day. One day it will all seem so long ago as I get more and more used to the routine. But for now, I’m the mom who shows up at an indoor playground with no diapers and no antibacterial hand wash to speak of. Here’s hoping she’s not coming down with some demon virus as I type. And now I must go watch The Shield. Cause that’s some cheery television.

Posted by Stefanie Wilder Taylor on March 4, 2006 5:07 amUncategorized9 comments  


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