Tuesday, March 25, 2014

It's A Doozy



My head is a bit all over the place tonight. I've got things on my mind, including, but not limited to: that little kid who keeps calling his mom "Linda" while arguing with her about a cupcake, my current, intense desire for a DQ hot fudge sundae, and the sad truth that I still think about Phillip Seymour Hoffman at least once a day. I miss knowing he's around in the world. I'm sad for his family. I'll miss all his future talent. But at least we still have Doubt. (Watch. It.)

And there's more.

Let me just start somewhere near the beginning, because even though I have the slippery suspicion that I could drag my current brain-train out into a solid three posts, none of us has the time for that. Dinner's already half cold, amiright??

First, the good news: I'm leaving for Dallas on Thursday to speak at Hope Spoken. I'm so legit excited. And honestly, that's weird for me. Honestly and truly, I haven't always had the "best experience ever" with conferences. It's not them, it's me. I usually wind up feeling a bit adrift about who I am and what I should be doing. I've often felt just outside the circle and a little angsty about life. I'm reminded that I'm cut from a wonky bolt of cloth. Etcetera.

But this feels different. I get to see so many of my people. I get to talk out loud, up on stage, and though I will surely want to puke for thirty minutes prior, and of course I might cry seven or eight times while I'm up there, I really like that sort of thing. It's like blogging, minus all the technology. It's my chip bag, that's all I'm saying. It's my salsa bowl. It's my thang.

Straight up, if I seem not quite right tonight, it's because at precisely 3pm today, whilst sitting in the pick-up line, I fell victim to repeated and severe stabbing pains in my left ear. Long story longer, a congenial after-hours-clinic doctor diagnosed me with "constant intermittent pain" caused by a "raging ear infection".

Incidentally, I found the fountain of youth tonight. Get your first known ear infection at the age of 37+. You'll feel positively infantile.

Don't worry though, I drowned my woes in hot-and-sour soup and garlic sauce that burned my face off.

But back to my death-fear of technology. I switched my blogger domain to a custom domain earlier today - the same exact custom domain I have owned and paid for for five straight years but have never used.

So, basically, gobbledygook blah blah blarneystone, I probably messed everything up. But hopefully not. But if you follow me through Blogger, you may need to find another way because I don't have a "follower" box anymore. And if you follow me through Bloglovin' or some other necessary technological fancy-pantsery, you might need to update the link. Or not. I'm so bad at this, guys. I don't even know what to tell you, other than: Please find a way! Let's make this work! We're so good together!

This might help. Since I already hated myself enough to spend twenty minutes of my life on the phone with online tech support, I went ahead and created a FPFG facebook page. I don't know why, okay? Does a girl always need a reason? Truth be told, Silas was on his way to Ohio since I'm leaving for Texas and he was so cute and pretty sad and I started to cry real tears of salted emotion on my couch over how complicated and beautiful it is to be his Mama and the best way to quell such tears is by replacing them with tears of honest-to-goodness frustration that comes with having a "job" that you are not "equipped" to "accomplish".

Basically, my ego is writing checks my body can't cash. Or something.

Do me a solid, and find me right here.

People are saying Facebook is mere inches away from burning down to a molten pile of ash, but you know me. I'll be the last one standing.

Forever Yours and Not Just Because I Can't Find My Way Out,
FPFG