I tend to get into television shows far later than most. In fact, if there’s a series that’s about to be cancelled or IS, in fact, cancelled, I will probably get into it, fall in love, then be devastatingly crushed when it is over. BECAUSE I WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT, DAMMIT.
I’m still not over the ending of Prison Break – I cannot think of it without weeping. I may have a little bit of a problem.
(shut UP)
A couple of months ago, probably while looking for tweets about laser kitties, I stumbled across The Twitter babbling on about a show called Mad Men. I sorta want to put it in inappropriate quotation marks just because.
Well, I figured that if the REST of the world was watching it, I’d probably hate it. Even though I’m married simultaneously to Dr. House and Dexter – both popular shows – I always assume I’ll hate popular culture. You can thank my parents for that one, Pranksters.
About a month ago, after reaching the end of Numbers, spending several days in mourning and then realizing I needed a new hobby besides becoming overly invested in television shows (see also: my marriages to Dr. House and Dexter), I finally queued up Mad Men.
I’m hesitant about any show that I alone pick because I spent at least three months watching Nip/Tuck while hating every goddamned minute of it. I screamed at the TV like it was a football game every night until I watched every single episode. And then? I’m STILL furious that I spent so much time watching a show while hating every. single. character.
Alas, I digress.
But I picked Mad Men, and I began to watch it, unsure of how I could handle a show where people aren’t eaten by sharks or otherwise horribly disfigured, depressed, or maimed (see also: my love of Cold Case and Law and Order: You Lead A Charmed Life, Motherfucker).
I admit, I was bored by the show. But I kept on because I HAD TO SEE IF SOMEONE WOULD BE EATEN BY A GIANT BEAR.
And then, I sorta, kinda, maybe liked some of the characters. Like a little.
But mostly, I liked the clothes. So what if everyone is repressed, drunk, and chain-smoking? THEY HAVE KICKY CLOTHES THAT I COVET! So what if everyone is having The Sex with everyone else? LOOKIT THE FANCY HAIRS!
I’m making an executive decision. I will go back to being a repressed housewife in the 1960’s IF I can get clothes like that. Because have you BEEN to The Target recently?
One word: ROMPERS. For WOMEN.
(that was more like two words)
I’m SO not okay with that. I’m also not okay with the scrunchies, acid-washed jeans, or jeggings.
NOT OKAY, PRANKSTERS.
So bring on the copious amounts of booze, gimmie my pack of smokes and fancy lady lighter, and screw being liberated. IF I CAN WEAR A TWIRLY SKIRT, I’M YOURS.
Nolan “Shepherd,” stillborn at 17 weeks on September 15, 2009.
Amanda’s Baby:
Jamie, 4/6/2010
Angie’s Daughter:
Madeleine Rose, stillborn July 7, 2009 due to incompetent cervix and uterine infection.
Ann’s Son:
Orion, stillborn May 8, 2004
Beka’s Son:
Benjamin, September 4, 2012, stillbirth.
Beryl’s Daughter:
Bella Rose, stillborn on September 9, 2009.
Brenda’s Son:
Emerson Allen Behrends, July 10, 2001, stillborn.
Danielle’s Baby:
Micah Rachel
Debbie’s Son:
Jonathan Edward, June 4, 1992, stillborn.
Debbie And Jeff’s Daughter:
Chloe Eva, September 12, 2008, stillbirth.
Heather and David’s Daughter:
Clara Edith, July 1, 2012, Stillbirth at 42 weeks, 3 days due to meconium aspiration and uterine infection.
Jill and Mark’s Baby:
Haven, November 26, 2003, stillborn at 38 weeks gestation
Jolene’s Daughter:
Ruth, January 3, 2013, stillbirth
Leslie’s Son:
Cullen Liam, born still September 11, 2010.
Lilla and Gareth’s daughter:
Pippa, born still on February 13, 2011 from listeria infection.
Lillie Belle:
Stillborn, born still 2017
Lisa’s Daughter:
Kaitlyn Grace, stillborn, born still, May 13, 1995.
Louise and Joseph’s Baby:
Alice Mathelin, born still on February 25, 2011, at 36 weeks and 5 days from Abruptio Placentae
Martha’s Twin Boys:
Owen died March 8, 2008 because his cord wasn’t properly attached to the placenta.
Joshua died one month later, April 6, 2008 because he couldn’t live without his brother. Both were born still on April 8, 2008.
Melanie’s Daughter:
Summer Lily, born still March 30, 2011.
Mel’s Daughter:
Jordan Ala, stillborn on November 13, 2006.
Melissa’s Twins:
Nicholas Aaron and Nathan Alexander, June 9, 2000, stillbirth
Nikki’s Son:
Sam, 1997, intrauterine fetal demise
Sarah’s Daughter:
Audrey Elizabeth, August 7, 1998, born still.
Selah Mae: born January 22, 2002, stillborn.
Stephanie’s Son:
Carter Austin Ross, March 18, 2006, stillbirth due to an umbilical cord anomaly.
TiaMaria’s Daughter:
Isabella-Rose Elizabeth, October 12, 2009, stillbirth.
Prematurity:
Amy and James’s Babies:
Jacob Bennett born and died on July 11, 2007 due to premature rupture of membranes (PROM).
Samantha Lauren born August 16, 2011 at 23.5 weeks passed away September 17th due to extreme prematurity and fungal meningitis.
Baby Helen: Born July, 1993. Passed from prematurity.
Celeste’s Son:
Christopher Robin Cote: Born September 25, 2009. Stillborn due to premature rupture of membranes and incompetent cervix.
Chantel’s Daughter:
Emily, prematurity born 19w 5 days – was too small for the equipment.
Christine’s Son:
Jellybean, born at 5:20 April 15th, 2009; and passed just four short hours later in her arms.
Heather and Aaron’s Son:
Aodin R. Hurd, October 7, 2007, born still due to premature rupture of the membranes.
Jenn’s Son:
Kevin William, prematurity, 2005
Kate’s Babies:
Baby S, March 2008, Miscarriage
Evie, December 14, 2009, Triplet Prematurity
Jack, December 22, 2009, Triplet Stillbirth due to Prematurity
Will, January 13, 2010, Triplet Prematurity
Baby M, May 2010, Miscarriage
Kristin’s Baby (Mama KK):
Ariel Grace, born on July 28, 2009 at 18 weeks 5 days. Lived 5 minutes.
Leleisme’s Babies:
Ayla and Juliet, October 20, 2009 at 20 weeks.
Bayli and Thomas on June 8, 2011 at 21 weeks 2 days.
Matthew Chase Sims:
April 25th, 2006 due to prematurity.
Melissa’s Son:
Born at 21 weeks in June 2011 due to a bacterial infection, lived for 30 minutes.
Melissa’s Daughter:
Hope, 1993
Nicky’s Son:
Samuel, August 8, 2001, prematurity.
Nina’s Son:
Coleman Parker Garibay, September 14, 2005, lost at 6 months gestation and passed from prematurity.
Paula’s Baby:
Reya, September 18 2011, Prematurity due to extreme Pre-eclempsia
Qudija’s Babies
Mikel Azariah and Willamina Azaria born August 12, 2019.
Mikel was stillborn,
Willamina was premature at 22 weeks 6 days
S & T’s Son:
William, November 2, 2013, 24 weeks, 3 days, prematurity
Vickie’s Son:
Collin, complications from prematurity, 2009
Yvette’s Son:
Erik Richard, July 29, 1981, prematurity.
Birth Defects:
Aaron and Kristine’s Son:
Luke Ervin Seitz, born July 21, 2011 with Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome, and passed on June 28, 2011.
Amy’s Babies:
Mateo, Anthony, and Ian born on May 6, 2008 at 23 weeks and 3 days.
Mateo was born still.
Anthony passed away from Transposition of the Great Vessels.
Ian passed away after a short stay in the NICU.
Amy’s Babies:
Nathaniel James, August 24, 2001 – August 29, 2001, Citrullinemia
David Henry, May 11, 2010 – January 24, 2011, Citrullinemia, passed away after becoming sick post liver transplant
Baby Khalil, born August 14, 2009, stillborn, born still from birth defects.
Baby Kober
Kyle William Kober July 22, 1994 due to Hypoplastic left ventricle syndrome
Beth’sSon:
Ethan Connor Brockwell, May 3, 2006 – August 17, 2006. Born with Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome.
Christopher: November 4, 1979, due to pulmonary atresia, a congenital heart defect.
Christopher’s Son:
Aidan, born with brain malformation on December 16, 2008 and passed on December 19, 2008.
Cora Mae McCormick:
November 30, 2009 to December 6, 2009 from a congenital heart defect.
Ellen’s Son:
Shane Michael, born October 10, 1971 and died October 11, 1971 from heart complications before his mother could wake from anesthesia. She never saw or held him.
Julie’s Daughter:
Brianna Elizabeth, born January 29, 1998 and died March 7, 1998 from a heart defect.
Kathryn’s Son:
Seth Douglas Bonnett, Our Little “Tough guy”, March 27, 2008 – October 12, 2008. Died from Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome.
Raquel’s Son:
Austin Skylar Gregory, born July 3, 2005 and gained his wings August 29, 2005 from Multiple Complex Congenital Heart Defects.
Ruth’s Son:
Corbin Walker, born February 20, 2011 and died May 17, 2011 from heart defects brought on by Williams Syndrome.
Shannon’s Baby:
Chloe Walker, born November 29, 2000 and died June 4, 2001 from multiple congenital heart defects and heterotaxy.
Suzy’s Son:
Starbaby, born still February 2008 due to Trisomy 18.
Venita’s Son:
Matthew Connor – February 26, 2005, born at 26 weeks, passed from Necrotizing Enterocolitis (NEC).
Wendy’s Baby:
Reed Allyvion Miners, passed away July 5th 2003 at one hour old from Primary Myocardial Disease, a congenital heart defect.
Liberty Ann born March 30, 2011 and died on April 19, 2011.
Ally’s Son: Collin
Collin: born on August 9th, 2008. He passed away 30 minutes later from cardiac arrest after an emergency c-section due to a placental abruption.
Amy’s Baby:
Nicholas, born December 14, 2005, died April 19, 2006 from SIDS.
Claudia’s Son:
Max Corrigan, born November 14, 1987 and relinquished to adoption on November 18, 1987.
April’s Daughter:
Brianna Ann 3/19/2018, car accident – donated the gift of life to 5 people through organ donation
Colleen’s Babies:
Bryce Philip born May 26, 2009 and died September 1, 2009 due to SIDS
Ashton Karol, stillborn on February 24, 2010 at 17 weeks.
Jenny’s Daughter:
Addison Leah, June 13, 2008, accidental death.
Jessica and Mark’s Daughter:
Hadley Jane, born October 9, 2001 and died October 11, 2007.
Julie’s Babies:
Halsey Douglas Dukes December 31, 2016, Halsey passed from hemophaygocytic lymphohistiocytosis (HLH)
Halcyon Grayson Dukes was born September 1, 2011 Halcyon failed to develop after 9 weeks
Lanie’s Sons:
Jake, born August 14, 2005 died August 27, 2005 due to prematurity and hydrops.
Sawyer, born November 17, 2009 died December 26, 2009. His cause of death has not been determined because he is part of a study at the Mayo clinic for heart arrhythmias – SIUDS (unexplained sudden infant death)
Leslie’s Son:
Cullen, September 11, 2010, stillbirth.
Mindy’s Son:
Brian Vitale, accidental death, September 4, 2007 – June 3, 2010. We miss him more and more each day.
Nancy’s Son:
Patrick, born April 10, 1977, Adoption
Pharon’s Daughter:
Sophia Lu Boudreau, born December 21, 2006 and died October 9, 2007 from SIDS.
Rebecca and TJ’s son:
Rafe Theobald Calvert, born on October 11th, 2009 at 26 weeks. Spent 3 months in the NICU and underwent an intestinal obstruction repair. He was released on January 11th, 2010 and we brought him home for 6 weeks. He passed away at 4 and a half months old from SIDS on February 25th, 2010.
The Stamm’s Daughter:
Adrienne Mae, May 7, 2006, Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.
Suzie’s Son:
Nathan Michael King, died from SIDS November 2008.
Vanessa’s Daughter:
Kendra, April 23, 2005 to March 24, 2006. Died from Jacobsen Syndrome.
With all the upheaval and negativity running rampant through our lives, it’s important to be able to stop, take stock of what’s important, and find some joy wherever we can.
At The Band Back Together Project, we like to take the time specifically to arrange a little happy boost for everyone.
t dawns on me as I sit there, anxiety at an all time high, my left butt-cheek falling asleep, that I could be somewhere else eating a bagel. Like Paris. Or Detroit. Or learning the Swahili phrase for “pants are bullshit.” Or washing my car. Okay, maybe not washing my car. It was like -900 degrees out. Washing my car would be like that scene in the Terminator with the Nitrous Oxide and the robot.
I smile, imagining my car shattering in the car wash, until I remember I’m probably sitting on barf germs. I hate barf germs.
My iPhone isn’t getting any signal in here. Stupid AT&T. Should be named the iCAN’TPhone because I haven’t been able to make a phone call since I got the damn thing. Hm. I really could use some mindless interaction from The Twitter right about now. Or maybe a Vicodin-Chip cookie. Or some vodka. Because my heart feels like it’s going to pound right the fuck out of my chest.
When the hell did this HAPPEN?
When did I start feeling stretched as taut as an over-tuned violin string? Why did I feel like the pressure to do more; to be more, to constantly outdo myself was omnipresent? Like I couldn’t ever possibly manage to live up to my own unrealistic expectations? Like I had to somehow be everything to everyone. Like if I didn’t constantly prove myself, I would cease to matter. I would cease to exist.
When did this start? And moreover: how could I make this stop?
These anxious racing thoughts; this anxiety, this had to stop.
Admitting that I had a problem the first step, I know from Al-Anon, and doing something about it was important. Hence the bagel-craving and the barf-germ-coated chair in my doctor’s waiting room. And, of course, the urge to flee so that I could learn Portuguese or Mandarin or really anything but admit that I had a problem.
I’m so tired of problems. I’m so tired of having something wrong that I barely want to admit to myself that I have a problem. Between migraines and my lazy-ass missing-in-action thyroid and insomnia, I can hardly stand to be in the same room with myself anymore without wanting to punch myself in the teeth. Problems are bullshit. I hate problems. Maybe I can make a “Problems Are Bullshit” shirt. Because they are. Bullshit, that is.
Maybe this isn’t ACTUALLY a problem. Maybe I can just ignore it and it’ll get better on it’s own.
Except it hasn’t. Because that’s what I’ve been doing. And it’s not working. Clearly.
Before I could do anything, though, the nurse poked her head into the waiting room, “Becky?” she trilled calmly, clearly unaware of my churning guts.
I sighed, put my iDON’TWORKPhone back into my purse and followed her back.
“What seems to be the problem?” she asked kindly.
“Well,” I started, looking at my hands, ashamed to be admitting this to anyone but the people who live inside my computer. “It’s sorta like this…”
Summer holidays always confuse me. Not just because I think the only one worth celebrating is my birthday, which, *ahem* I did change from the actual date of my entrance into the world (July 15) to a day that should be less, well, cursed (July 28) on Facebook, which is kind of like when you say you’re “in a relationship” on there. It means it MATTERS now.
We’re going STEADY, me and my birthday!
With the exception of my national-holiday-birthday, I don’t get summer holidays. I mean, day off, FUCK YEAH, but we’re not like Jello Mold Salad people who burst out the limbo stick and dust off the old camper on Memorial Day or Labor Day. Probably because I don’t HAVE a camper but mostly because my idea of “roughing it” involves staying in a hotel without room service.
I have lots of traditions, but none of them involve setting up a tent in the middle of the woods where there are earwigs and trees and possibly rabid squirrels that might want to eat my face off while I sleep. I mean, if I want to “get back to nature” I can turn on the National Geographic Channel and not immediately flip through to a Law and Order: You’re About To Be Depressed marathon.
I’m all for a good BBQ, don’t get me wrong, so long as it doesn’t involve any additional planning on my end. Encased meats are kind of my thing, so any chance to roast weenies on a grill makes me happy in the pants (GO MEAT!), but if I have to turn a relaxed, “get your ass over, fuckwad,” invite into,
“Miss Rebecca Sherrick Harks kindly requests your presence at Casa de la Sausage at one ‘o’ clock in the afternoon on…”
then I’ve lost something in translation. I don’t want to have to turn a Labor Day BBQ into a LABOR DAY BBQ. Because then I have to clean and make appetizers and put on pants and we all know how much I hate pants.
This Labor Day, I’m torn. Since I’m clearly not going to be camping or hosting a Jello Mold Party, I’ll be doing one of two things (while eating encased meats pantsless, of course). Making Skittles Vodka or designing a proton accelerator.
Or maybe both. Why have or when you can have and?
———
Are you a Summer Holiday Family? If so, can I come over and celebrate with YOU? Even if I’m not wearing pants? Because pants are BULLSHIT.
I know this is going to sound totally gross and the more I go on the grosser it’s going to sound, but please, hear me out. I’m in trouble here, folks.
I think my boss wants to sleep with me
When I say I think, I mean I’m about 97.5% certain.
He’s not just my boss; he’s also my friend. He’s also 62. He’s also my best friend’s dad. He’s also married. And I could say all sorts of shit, like ‘He’s 62 but he’s a YOUNG 62,’ or ‘He’s married, but his wife’s a drunk and from the outside it sure looks like they have a craptastic marriage,’ but that is making excuses. I’m not doing that.
In the last several months we’ve become good friends. There are times when we’re alone at the office and we hang out and chat. We talk about all sorts of stuff: music, arts, culture, literature, blah blah blah blah blah. He’s interesting and funny and a really good friend.
Years ago I dated a man who was 29 years my senior. I’ve never hidden that. In fact, when I started working at my current place of employment the (old) gentlemen and I were still together. In one of the many conversations the boss and I have had he mentioned that he hadn’t understood that relationship until recently. That I was just delightful to be around or some tune similar to that. I tell you right now just to save you all the time that I most definitely have daddy issues. Being a young lady in her early twenties dating men in their fifties isn’t the norm. I never thought it was gross though. I still don’t.
I’m not entirely sure that I wouldn’t do it. I’m really curious. Not curious enough to ruin a friendship, marriage, my job, etc., but curious enough to let my mind wander. Also can I mention that this is a huge fucking distraction in the workplace?!
That sounds bad, huh? Like I’m a bad person. I’m not, I’m just so fucking confused by the whole thing. But I’m listening to my gut here, and my gut’s telling me that this is what he wants.
I haven’t been 100% honest with you guys. I totally let him take pictures of me. You know the kind. Twice. He’s full on into photography, took hundreds of pictures just like mine years ago, has some bad ass camera equipment, never said anything inappropriate while the sessions were taking place, was super professional and I know everyone says this, but they were tasteful! And the second batch? Well, I think they are the prettiest pictures anyone has ever taken of me.
I know, doing shit like that opens the door to stupid and I just didn’t believe that would happen. All these little things keep adding up and the only conclusion I can come to is that my boss wants to sleep with me. I’m not saying he would or that it will happen, but my instincts are telling me something is there.
Has anyone ever dealt with anything like this? I need help, The Band.
