I Was Asking For It

I haven’t blogged for a week because I am still exhausted from my epic road trip.

That trip really took a toll on me, coupled with the fact that it’s the end of summer and I always am about to drop dead around mid-August, 21 day road trip or no.

Actual Odometer Reading

Actual odometer reading for the trip. 5551.3 miles in 21 days. Seven of which we stayed put.

I just don’t have it in me to throw myself into highly bloggable situations. To be honest, all I really had the energy for was looking at asshole cat memes on the internet, like these:

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Hell, I had dinner with Pamcakes (Thanks Pamcakes!) and those two cocktails  left me hung over the entire next day.


I arrived at her home to find this lovely assortment awaiting me. While I did not drink all the alcohol, I felt like I did the next day. WTF?

Clearly my reserves are low because I’m usually the bionic woman when it comes to bouncing back.

The only remotely bloggable thing that happened was a lovely woman at the gym very helpfully (and I’m not being snarky, she was really trying to be nice) informed me that if I want to stay “relevant” in my 50’s, I’m gonna have to dye my hair. How lucky am I that I’m not already having to go there?

Thanks lady. Can I just do my crunches now?

Thanks lady. Can I just do my crunches now?

She’s 54, lovely, and dyes her hair every three weeks.

I hope by relevant she actually meant cougarific or able to attract fresh meat because I’d hate to think that my relevance as a person is negated by gray hair.


Me in ten years.

In actuality, I know what she’s talking about but I’m starting to care less about being “hot” and more about being interesting, centered, content, informed, creative, a good friend, partner and mother.

I tried writing about it but ended up producing a dull, feminist drone that I could barely stand to read.


I mean, do I even need to go on and on about why everything about what she said is just completely fucked up? It’s been written about ad nauseam.

I know she meant well, and it was couched in a compliment about how great my hair is (thanks Penny!) but still. How depressing.

I don't think I'll be invisible to my friends.

I don’t think I’ll be invisible to my friends.

Speaking of depressing, I dropped my phone.

Photo on 8-8-14 at 7.01 PM

I was just gloating to my niece about how I’ve dropped my phone but have been lucky enough to avoid any bad breaks in the glass.

Yes, I’m an idiot.

Yes, I was asking for it.

Screen Shot 2014-08-11 at 11.53.46 AM

So I dropped it (again) and shattered the screen.

Like shattered, shattered. Like little shards of glass in my fingers and lips when I tried to use it. But let me point out that aside from the cracks, the screen worked until I got it fixed.

My home screen. I always kiss his face when I see it, hence the cut up lips.

My lock screen. I always kiss his face when I see it, hence the cut up lips.

So I got myself to a local repair place (no, not the Apple store like I should have) and they replaced the screen while I waited (thus voiding the Apple warrantee) and I was feeling good about saving enough money to offset the sting of buying an Otterbox (like I should have right when I got the dang thing).

Anyway, it worked long enough for me to get home and then it started freaking out. I had to power the thing down because it is drunk texting people BY ITSELF, taking pictures and making random phone calls.


Responding to a text my phone sent out to a random group of people.

Ryan, who has the hilarious habit of accidentally booty call texting me instead of, I don’t know, the other Vivienne, got a cry for help at 7:30 the other morning.

So yah, I’m tired and don’t feel like writing but what else am I going to do while I wait for those fuckers to fix my phone?



One thing that I actually do feel good about is how I’ve narrowly escaped a complete nervous breakdown.

I was going to join Marcia, for a four-day backpacking trip with the kids Friday through Tuesday near Steamboat Springs.

I’ve done this with her before I had kids and it was, um, fun* but sleeping on the ground in a tiny tent while it rained sucked when I was in my 30s without kids but the idea of doing that shit now, with kids, with my reserves already depleted, sounds like a disaster.


Even better with kids. And rain.

I tried to negotiate a little (can’t we just go to a campground where I can set up a real tent and cots?) but either she’s deep in the bush or it’s not camping.

She sounded pretty fried from her 7 1/2 weeks of backpacking with her husband (did I mention she’s 83?) and we both had a sharp, nervous edge to our voices that is not at all consistent with how we talk to each other.

We decided to get off the phone, get some rest, and resume the conversation the next day when we were in better shape. Why can’t all relationships be so rational and loving? If you can’t speak from love and compassion, for goodness sake, don’t speak.

The next day we settled on doing the next best thing to sleeping on the rocky ground and eating reconstituted freeze0dried food.

She and I are meeting at a five-star resort in Vail that I got a great deal on. Without kids. Without husbands. With room service.

Just like camping!

(*It wasn’t fun but I love Marcia and she loves to backpack so I was happy to spend time with her doing what she loves.)

I have lots of animal updates but it’s gonna have to wait. I must meet the FedEx truck at the school to unload 500 pounds of school supplies for the PTA. Let the madness begin.

8 thoughts on “I Was Asking For It

  1. Glad you made it back. My mom was fully gray at 26yrs old. She dyed it until she was 48 yrs old and graduated as an RN. She wanted to look like the older, sophisticated, knowledgeable woman. She got so many more compliments gray than she ever did as a redhead. She still gets compliments. 🙂

    • I think gray hair is beautiful, I always admire women with full heads of gray. I think it’s the salt-and-pepper that women struggle with. Either way, it has nothing to do with one’s worth. Nice to see you are still out there.

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