Nomophobia

A friend recently told me about nomophobia and I think I may have it.  Nomophobia is a fear of being without your cell phone.  It is a recent phenomenon. For obvious reasons.

I was fairly late coming to the cell phone scene.  When they first became popular they seemed so unnecessary.  I’d lived my entire life without one and never thought much of it. Eventually we decided that since I was often out on the road with the children it would be good to have one for emergencies.  I couldn’t imagine needing more than a handful of minutes a month.  After all, I would only use it if I were stranded on the highway or locked out of my car.

The first time I saw a teenager with a cell phone I was a little disgusted.  I couldn’t figure out what a teenager would need with a cell phone if he wasn’t a drug dealer.  What could he possibly need to talk about that couldn’t wait until he got home?

We bought our second cell phone a year or two later.  This enabled us to call each other when we got separated in WalMart.  This is a vast improvement over our previous technique of asking the sales clerk to broadcast over the PA system a request for a lost husband to meet his wife at the checkout stand. It also made traveling in separate cars much easier.  

We moved about every three years during my husbands military career.  After the first move we had two cars, which meant I had to drive one while my husband drove the other.  We would divvy up the luggage and children and head out.  If someone needed a potty break or was ready to eat, we had to somehow let the other driver know.   Communication was most often done by flashing the lights and signaling to pull over.  Then we would confer on the side of the road. The advent of the cell phone was a godsend.

When my oldest daughter went away to college we got her a cell phone.  Everyone else followed pretty quickly and soon we were a 7 cell phone family, with the youngest child having one by the time she was ten.  She wasn’t a drug dealer - at least not to the best of my knowledge.

But up to this point I still didn’t have nomophobia.  The turning point came when I got an iPhone.  I became completely enamored with this amazing piece of technology.  Sure it’s a phone, but it is so much more.  One morning I realized I had already used my phone for 10 different activities.  I had woken up to it’s alarm, listened to music, checked the weather, read scripture, used the timer to cook breakfast, checked my e-mail, played a game of solitaire, sent a text, checked facebook, and taken a picture.  This was all before 9 a.m.!  No wonder I feel lost without it.

So, how bad is it?  The other day I got in the car to drive a few blocks to pick up my daughter from school and realized I had left my phone charging next to my recliner.  I had to turn around and go get it.  I keep it in my back pocket at all times when it isn’t charging.  Worst of all, I can’t go to the bathroom without it.  I don’t routinely make calls while in the bathroom, but I do “check my traps” during this period of unavoidable delay.  I use the time to check facebook, the weather, my e-mail, and anything else I have time for.  While I’m in the shower I put it on the back of the toilet just to keep it close by.  At night I charge it next to my bed.  At the hospital where I worked most people seemed to keep their phones in their bags.  I kept mine in my pocket.  It was on silence, but I just couldn’t bring myself to be separated from it.  And just in case you’re wondering, you don’t really have to turn off your phone while in an airplane.  They can’t tell.  I do put it in airplane mode.  Wouldn’t want to risk running out the battery!  

According to an article I read on-line, true nomophobes have panic attacks when they can’t find their phone.  I don’t know if this would happen to me because I haven’t been in that situation.  But I will say that I recently upgraded to the iPhone 4S, and when I experienced a few technical difficulties in the set up phase, I was not, shall we say, in a good place emotionally.  I got it worked out, but it was touch and go there for awhile.  I didn’t actually wet myself, or throw the phone, or exchange verbal insults with the genius at the genius bar, but I felt like doing all three at some time during the process.

At this point I don’t plan to do anything about my condition.  I suppose if it starts interfering in my life I’ll have to look into some kind of therapy.  I wonder if there’s an app for that?

Feeling Peevish

I suppose everyone has their pet peeves.  A friend of mine hates it when her neighbor lets his dog go on her grass and doesn’t pick it up.  But I’m not sure that really qualifies - I mean, who likes that?  To be a real pet peeve it should be something that is more annoying to the individual than it is to the general population.  One thing I’ve noticed is that some days I have more pet peeves than others.  Days when I’m feeling particularly  peevish.

My husband has a tendency to put ice in his glass and then clank it around as if the liquid needed help in coming to a uniform temperature.  He wouldn’t want any warm spots in his lemonade.  There are days when I don’t notice and other days when I have to leave the room to keep myself from tackling him and knocking the glass from his uniformly-chilled hand. 

Another peeve that gets to me sometimes is when people brag about the good deal they got on something.  Some days I am interested and congratulate them on their shopping prowess.  Other days it just irritates my soul and I’m tempted to make up a completely ridiculous story of my own just to top them.  How petty is that?

Some things irritate me when other people do them, but I must admit I’ve done them myself.  They don’t seem irritating when I do them.  Answering my cell phone in a public restroom falls in this category.  So does popping my gum.  This drives my husband mad.    It drives me mad too if it’s someone else.  But it can be so satisfying as long as I’m the one doing it.

One of my biggest peeves is when people honk at someone’s house to get them to come out rather than going up to the door and knocking.  I don’t know why this bothers me so much.  Sure, I don’t like hearing the noise repeatedly up and down the street as the carpools honk for the kids each morning.  But it’s more than that.  It bugs me when people honk for me, too.  It bugs me so much that it’s one thing I make sure I don’t do to other people.

Why am I annoyed by these ultimately inconsequential things?  Why are some things so emotionally irritating on some days and not on others?  I don’t know.  But I definitely have my pet peeves and my petty peeves; days when I just feel peevish.  

Ode to Sheets

I promise I won’t turn this into a product review blog.  But I wanted to write about my new sheets.

I guess I have a bit of a sheet fetish.  I like them really soft.  I don’t like pills or even texture.  I’m willing to pay for softness, but sometimes that isn’t enough.  There are some expensive sheets out there that are not at all soft!  Even though I’m willing to pay, money doesn’t grow on trees, and I don’t want to feel cheated.

So, about two weeks ago I decided it was time to buy a new set of sheets.  We bought a   Sleep Number bed about 8 years ago, which I love.  We bought a nice set of sheets from the store at the same time.  I think they gave us a deal.  I have loved these sheets.  They are very soft.  They also have elastic all the way around, corner elastic that goes under the mattress, and a tag in one corner to help you remember how they go on.  I always put the tag in the upper right hand corner of the bed.  No more guess work.  Anyhoo,  as I said, these have been great sheets, but they were pricey, and I thought I would look elsewhere for a second set of sheets.

I went to Bed Bath and Beyond.  I figured, every bride in America can’t be wrong.  I bought a quite expensive set of sheets with a very high thread count and brought them home.  I washed them before I put them on the bed.  That night I looked forward to slipping into my fresh bed.  Imagine my dismay when the experience was not all I had hoped for.  They just felt nubby on my legs.  They looked smooth, but they don’t call me Princess and the Pea for nothing!  I could feel roughness.

Now if I had not paid so handsomely for these sheets I might have just chalked it up to experience, but that was not the case.  So I took them back.  Who knew you can do that?  I felt kind of guilty.  Ok, I’ll admit it - I actually sent my husband in to return them while I sat in the car.  I would have done it myself but I was talking to my sister on the phone at the time, and he was willing.  But surprise!  He says they didn’t blink an eye, that sheets are a very personal matter, and it wasn’t a problem to bring them back even though they’d been washed and slept on.  Yay for Bed Bath and Beyond’s return policy, even if I can’t endorse their product!

But now I was still in need of a set of sheets.  So I did what I should have done in the first place.  I went back to the Sleep Number store.  They have only three or four different kinds of sheets.  Sometimes less is more.  I liked my old sheets but after chatting with the very helpful sales lady, I brought home a set of Lyocell sheets.

To use the Utah phrase, “OH MY HECK!”  These are the most amazing sheets!  I washed them and put them on the bed.  As I climbed in bed that night I was filled with trepidation.  Would I be disappointed again???  No!!  These sheets are fantastic.  They feel like melted butter on your skin.  I would like to say I slept like a baby that night, but the truth is the sheets actually kept me up.  Every time I turned over I moaned in ecstasy.  They feel that good!  It’s almost embarrassing.  

The next day I did a little research on line (can’t say I’m not thorough) and found out they are actually made from beech tree pulp.  It is a “miracle” fabric that has the softness of silk, the strength of polyester, and the breathability of cotton.  Money may not grow on trees, but wonderful sheets do!!  They are worth every penny.  

Did I just do a commercial???

Lost in My Hometown

I consider myself reasonably intelligent.  I can usually understand a concept when it is explained to me.  I enjoy puns, double entendres, and other wordplay.  I’ve always been good at crossword puzzles and brain teasers.  I love sudoko and cryptograms.   I can improvise when the need arises, and “think outside the box”.  I have always gotten good grades in school, and while it required study, I generally remember what I’ve learned.  However, I have a brain defect.  I can’t find my way out of a paper bag.  

I have no sense of direction.  One of my favorite things about living in Utah is that the mountains are big enough to be seen from anywhere and provide a frame of reference.  Virtually all of my driving is done along the Wasatch front, and the mountains are always to the East.  With that in mind I can usually head in the right direction.  Not that it helps me find a specific location, but at least I can find my way home.

In addition to having no sense of direction, I have no “direction memory”.  When I got my driver’s license at 16, I had to ask my mom for directions to get to the high school where I had been going for three years.  I’m not kidding.

My husband was in the military and we moved roughly every three years.  This is a real hardship for the directionally challenged.  Every time we moved I would buy a little spiral notebook and label it “How to get to...”.  On each page I would write directions from my house.  I’m talking directions to the dentist, the church, the grocery store, my children’s friends’ houses, the elementary school - no place was so frequently visited that it didn’t require an entry in my notebook.

When GPS devices came out I bought one.  The problem was they weren’t always accurate, especially once I got really close to my destination.  I can get lost in a parking lot.  Literally.  When I was in college I had to do clinical rotations at many different hospitals in the area.  Finding these hospitals was a major stress in my life.  I would look them up on mapquest, plan my route the night before, and head out in the early morning hours.  I would sing “I Have Confidence” from The Sound of Music to fortify myself.  I would turn on the GPS and put the car in drive.  Eventually the little voice on the GPS would say “approaching destination” or whatever.  This would be no help.  I would look to the left and look to the right and find myself in an office building mega-plex.   I can’t tell you how many times I had to use my cell phone and humiliate myself by calling for directions.  “I’m in the parking lot but I can’t tell where I’m supposed to be”.  

The same thing happens inside buildings.  Hospitals are the worst because hallways don’t have windows so I can’t use the mountains for help.  It’s so embarrassing when you get a call to come to “the North Hall” and you have no idea which way is north.  Repetition is of little help; at least not a reasonable amount of repetition.  After two weeks I could find my way to my office with confidence.  It took over a year to feel comfortable on the main patient floor.  After two years I could find my way to CT and MRI by myself if I had to.  To get to the NICU there were two elevators that faced each other.  I would take whichever one arrived first when I pushed the call button.  No lie, even after two and a half years I wasn’t sure until the doors opened on the fourth floor if the NICU was to the left or the right.  

Fortunately, I didn’t pass this disorder on to my children.  My oldest daughter has an uncanny sense of direction.  True story.  When she was a little girl,  we were living in the midwest and would visit my parents on the east coast two or three times a year.  On one particular trip, as we were driving along the highway, she started whining that she was hungry and wanted to go to McDonald’s.  I told her I understood, but that there were no McDonalds around.  I said, “Look out the window and tell me if you see a McDonald’s.”  She said, “We’re coming up on one.  I remember from last time we came.  You get off at the next exit and turn under the freeway”.  She was right!!  She was four!!  This is a completely amazing to me.  I have no idea how she does it.  

I don’t know how to fix my problem.  I don’t know if other people suffer from the same thing.  I’ve tried to hide my handicap my entire life.  When I need to go to a new place, I see if a friend wants to come, too, and if they want to do the driving.  When I get lost I call my daughter for directions because she is so sweet she doesn’t laugh at me.  At least not to my face.  I make sure I always have a snack in the car incase I need sustenance while I find my way home.  I keep it in a paper bag.  Just don’t expect me to find my way out of it.

Introduction

I’ve been toying with the idea of writing a blog for some time now.  It’s not that I think I’m a good writer, or that I anticipate a huge following.  It’s more that I have things I want to say and this might be a way to get them said.  Basically, this blog is about me and my life.  Is that what most blogs are about or am I just a complete narcissist? 

I chose the name “My Slip is Showing” for my blog because that is what I anticipate will happen here.  I imagine I will reveal more than I intended.  Maybe even more than is polite.  But it will be MY slip that is showing.  That’s why I didn’t call it “Your Slip is Showing”.  

I heard once that we read to know we aren’t alone, and I think that is true.  I also think I talk to know that I’m not alone, but sometimes that backfires and I end up feeling more alone.  I call it “talkers remorse”.  Who knows, that may happen here, too.

SO, before I get started, I thought I should tell at least a little about myself.  I am closing in on 50 years old.  I’ve been married to the same man for nearly 30 years. I have five children, four of them grown and one teenager.  I have three grandchildren.  I am a Mormon living in Utah, but I am not from Utah.  I grew up on both coasts but was born in Texas. My husband  was in the military, so we moved many times during his career.  For over 20 years I was a stay-at-home mom.  I then went back to college, got a bachelor’s degree, and worked in a hospital for a couple of years.  I recently quit that job and am back at home full time.

I love to read.  I love to sing.  I love babies.  I try really hard to not be a fanatic about anything. I like to quilt, but not as much as I used to.  I love to plant flowers in the spring, but I tend to lose interest before fall.  I try to exercise every day, but sometimes I miss a day.   I don’t like to cook.  Food just isn’t my thing.  Oh, I don’t miss meals, I just don’t like to think about it until I’m actually hungry.  I am not a huge pet lover.  I guess I’m barely a pet tolerator.  Ok, pets don’t actually last long in my house.  We are down to one 8 year old cat right now and if I had my way...  I’m not a fan of fur or hairballs.  

I like to take hikes.  I like to stay in luxury hotels near hiking destinations.  I like the idea of camping, but not the reality.  Crackling campfires, skies full of stars, the murmur of crickets and frogs, wildlife sightings - these are all wonderful.  But I also like comfortable beds, warm showers, flush toilets, and central heating/cooling.  We bought a two-man kayak last year and I’m looking forward to taking it out. We got the two-man so my husband can do the work and I can enjoy the scenery.

I like to imagine things I would do to modify/improve my house.  Sometimes I actually do them.  We had the kitchen and family room remodeled last year.  I have plans for my bathroom and for the backyard but I don’t know if they will ever come to fruition.  When the cat dies I’m getting new carpet.  I plan to call the installers that very day.

I love history and archeology.  Whenever I dig in the yard I always hope to find artifacts.  So far the most exciting thing I’ve ever found was a horseshoe.  When I stripped the wallpaper out of my house I was excited to find several layers underneath.  I didn’t love the extra work, but I enjoyed the glimpse into the past.  It’s true I wondered what the previous owners were thinking when they chose that newsprint-like wallpaper, but I reminded myself that my choices might seem just as hideous years from now.   Whenever we travel I like to tour historic sites and I love hiking to ruins of any kind.  But part of me is always a skeptic - how do we really know?  Maybe that wasn’t a temple -  maybe it was a casino.  

So as I begin this blog, I’m planning to write about my thoughts and experiences. My preferences and shortcomings will surely show. Everyone’s slip shows sometimes, right?  I’m not alone.