I do own five feather boas- that must count for something
There's only room for ONE diva around here and that's ME

How old am I? Let the Teen Choice Awards count the ways.

Phillip and I are reduced to watching the Teen Choice Awards tonight. September cannot come fast enough, and not just because I am more than ready to have this baby. I have no opinion about the Jonas Brothers, I have cringed each time a starlet hikes up her strapless dress, I am feeling like Mariah Carey is too old to wear yellow hot pants, I shudder each time a too-old-to-play-a-teen star says something like, "This is KRAZY!" or "You guys are UN! BELIEVABLE!", I can't figure out what that judge from America's Best Dance Crew is wearing on her head, but Hannah Montana can do no wrong. I love Hannah Montana. SUE ME.

You know who's a cutie? Chris Brown. I realize saying that makes me about seven hundred years old, but you know what? I AM. I just like to see what the kids are up to these days, with their music and their dance crews and their speed-of-light texting.

Did I tell you about our cell phone bill? So Phillip and I have a family plan and for the last couple of years we were keeping my little sister in cell minutes as well, although now she is a Real Live First Grade Teacher and can probably swing her OWN phone plan but I DIGRESS. Anyway! Whenever we get mail that comes in a #10 white envelope with a plastic window my brain goes, "Ew! Bill!" and throws it onto Phillip's desk. I am the picture of Modern Woman, eh? But this last time I got sort of curious about who's been calling who (SNOOP!) and I opened it up.

The first number listed was Phillip's and there were about ninety-seven pages of calls. Okay, maybe not that many, but when you are an IT Professional and also the sort of person whose pillow has a special indentation where his phone sleeps every night, you seriously have nearly ninety-seven pages of calls. Borrrring.

My sister's number had a page or two of calls. And yes I tried to figure out who all those numbers belong to, but even I have better things to do. So I moved on to my number.

Where there was (AND I SWEAR) like, two inches of calls. TWO INCHES! I mean, I know I don't use my cell phone that often, but REALLY? That's IT? And those calls? Were all to Phillip. Or the one or two people who only call my cell phone (and then leave a message, because my phone is always dead, and then I have to call them back a week later when I realize my phone has been dead all this time and I feel bad.) How lame am I? I can't even justify owning a cell phone at this point, let alone nagging my husband to buy me an iPhone. An iPhone! What am I going to do with one of those?!

(Tangent! You know how I said I was seven hundred years old? You know who is REALLY seven hundred years old? BRIAN AUSTIN GREEN. Dudes! He looks like these kids' DAD. Speaking of David Silver, what do you think about this new 90210 show they keep promoting?)

Anyway. I am pretty much the only person I know who not only still has a home phone but refuses to get rid of it. Seems like most everyone we know got rid of their home phone long ago, but Phillip will pry my purple phone with the old school answering machine out of my cold dead hands! (Or, I guess, when he tells me that the budget can't handle both a home phone AND a blog.) I just can't imagine handling all our calls on a CELL phone. I don't want to be interrupted in the middle of all the important things I do for, you know, the nurse calling to remind me about my appointment in two days. I mean, I hardly answer the phone when I know who it IS. (Except for you. I always answer your calls.)

There are two people with whom I can bear to talk to on the phone: my mother, because she is the only person in the world who cares about the nap schedule (and even she might be pretending) and my far away friend whose name we are not using for New Baby because Phillip is stubborn and irritating. Everyone else gets maybe three minutes of phone time, mainly because I am Phone Stupid. I'm not as afraid of the phone as I used to be (ordering a pizza? TERROR!) but I prefer to see you in person. Or email! God bless email!

Man. The American Idol Davids are excruciating.

So! I am thinking I should take one for the team and get a prepaid phone. You know. The kind where the numbers are huge and the volume goes up to eleven thousand because the only people using prepaid phones are YOUR PARENTS.

I'm so sorry you guys. It was either this or another in the MOLARS ARE FROM THE DEVIL series. Hopefully something fabulous will happen to me tomorrow (I score the alternate position on the Olympic gymnastics team! The baby is born! Logan Echolls calls me AND I TOTALLY PICK UP THE PHONE!) and I will not have to write about TELEVISION. AGAIN. Cross your fingers!



What really scares me is that the only person in this whole blog post who I even knew was Brian Austin Green. How old am I? Nine hundred years old.
Also, I never watch tv, so that might explain some things. How do you have time to watch tv? I must know your secret.
Speaking of secrets, how goes the baby girl name search?


I am terrified of ordering pizza on the phone too! What if they ask me something I don't know?

ccr in MA

I use my cell phone more than I thought I would when I first got it, but still not all that much. I keep my "land line" (as the kids call it), and though it has voice mail (which I didn't even know when I got it), I still use my answering machine. Because when I get a message (rare), I push a button and hear it, instead of dialing my number, entering a code I can never remember, and punching various other numbers that are supposed to mean something to me, in order to hear the massage (which is usually a wrong number anyway).

Wow, grumpy much? I should have more coffee!


We don't have a land line, but I never thought about the fact that if we did, IT COULD BE PURPLE. I may have to rethink this decision.


I seriously considered watching the teen choice awards but my kids mock the Jonas brothers so I flipped away. Now I'm sorry I did because it would have been fun to read this and feel like we were in sync!
I also don't use my phone except for calls to Hubby (oh and to take pictures of the inside of my purse. My phone LOVES to take pictures of the inside of my purse.) And I will never get rid of my landline because every house we live in has horrid cell reception and besides, I like feeling like leaving my house means leaving all the stressful phone calls behind.

The Sojourner

You can order pizza over the internet now. I am madly in love with internet pizza-ordering.

Also, you have now solved the mystery of why I cannot get my cell phone's ringer any quieter than Wake the Dead.


I actually feel the same way about the phone. I prefer face-to-face or nothing at all (email, IM). The whole middle of the road thing with just hearing someone's voice actually petrifies me. I just don't really do phones. I will if I have to, but I sometimes have to take an anxiety pill after I do it, because I worked myself into an anxiety attack. I can talk to some people on the phone, but I sound like a blooming idiot. I sound a lot more intelligent in person or in text. On the phone, I ramble and stutter and sometimes don't get all the parts of a sentence in there. I have to work my way up to being comfortable with people.

Jenny Ryan

1. I refer to myself as a phonophobiac, because I literally get sick to my stomach whenever I have to talk to people on the phone.

2. {{{sob}}}an entire year without Logan Echolls{{sob}}

3. I have reached the point where the kids who were born the year I graduated from high school have either just graduated, or are now seniors. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?!


Don't feel bad about bugging your husband for an iPhone. Keep bugging him. If you get one, YOU WILL LOVE IT. Perhaps it's because my iPod had been dead for almost two years, but I've had my iPhone for about two weeks, and I'm totally addicted to it. You could blog . . . on your phone! Or check other blogs! Or watch a movie! Or listen to music! Or play games! ALL ON YOUR PHONE. I know there are other phones that do all these things (except maybe the movies), but no interface does it better. Seriously, I'm in love. It's sad.

Also sad? The fact that, after reading your post, I'm about to Google for more information about this alleged new 90210 show. Oh, the shame.


Television is so bad right now. I usually get so embarassed on behalf of the people on tv that I make my husband change the channel. It's just so awkward I can't handleit. But then he changes to one of the 97 million cold case type crime shows where it always turns out that the husband murdered the wife. This is why I have just given up tv completely for now and focussed on the blogging world I suppose.

Kate P

Logan!? I just finished watching Season 2 last Thursday. I forgot how they packed everything in at the end b/c they weren't sure they were coming back, and how good he was there.

I love my landline and refuse to get rid of it, but everybody still assumes my cell is my main line! Is it my age or my being single? My cell phone has the lowest plan possible and is for emergencies/security and sneaking school-related phone calls at lunchtime during the workweek, TYVM.


I love my rotary dial landline. I think it's because so many people feel that just because you have a mobile phone they are entitled to reach you whenever and wherever.

I'm with you on the television thing. If it weren't for Project Runway and the promise of the Cho Show my TiVo would be gathering dust.


We had a VOIP house phone and I HATED it with all of my soul. (Too fuzzy and far away sounding, in my opinion.) When we moved, Matt signed us up for a land line without even asking as a present for me.

I had the same epiphany about my cell phone. I canceled it and intend to get one of those pay-as-you-go ones. But I haven't yet and I don't even miss it!

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