I need a week or so away from the Internet.  Or, specifically, from blogs.

So, if you have a blog, I don’t hate you, I haven’t unsubscribed, you are still 100 degrees of awesome.  I just have some stuff I have to do.

[Write something about how I need to reorganize my entire house and bills and life because I cannot see straight due to the clutter that has accumulated over the past fifteen months.  Husband, beware, I'm going to purchase refill tape for my label maker, file folders and more whiteboards tomorrow and thus life with your crazy super organized wife will resume shortly.]

Anyway, I’ll be back here and at your places in about a week or so.

I will still be on twitter and Facebook because, my God, there’s no need to get crazy and turn into the unibomber.

[Reminder to the uninitiated: Yes, I know, Muslim bloggers should not use the word "bomb" on their blogs.  Even when trying to be funny.  But me?  I like to thumb my nose at the establishment. Bring on the body scans!]

In the meantime, let me tell you about how this weekend, my mom gave me my childhood in a box.  You know, kindergarten certificates and newspaper clippings, etc.  It was a strange thing because, well, I just thought she’d want to keep that stuff forever and ever because she loves me so much.

But, apparently, she, too, is sick of the clutter.  The clutter of my childhood.  Sob.  She didn’t say it, but I swear as she handed me the box, I heard her voice boom “My job here is done” in my head.

Anyway, in this box was a paper written by a psychologist who had the joyful task of evaluating me for gifted classes when I was twelve years old.  I had not, until this weekend, actually seen the written results of this evaluation, but had only heard them.

Mostly in the context of, “You are way too smart to be getting crappy grades like this.”

Now, please, I’m not going to get annoying and share the actual results with you because most of you already know I’m very smart.  Haha.  No, but, really, I am.  And I actually have documentation, now.

However,  I do want to share the following excerpt with you, my dear, non-judgey friends:

“Faiqa appeared to be highly motivated to do well.  On occasion her anxiety about doing well probably had somewhat of a negative effect on her performance.”

You know what?  That information?  Would have been NICE TO KNOW twenty two years ago.  Correction, twenty two years, three thousand self help books, three majors, one husband and two kids ago.

Because that’s what it took to get me to realize that it is not the gold stars and head pats that matter, but that life’s real joy resides in the things you actually do in life and how you feel while you are doing them.  We do things because they feel right and good and honest.

Gold stars are for gunners, not winners.  In the end, a gold star doesn’t make laying your head down at night any easier or fill one’s heart up with a sense of completeness.  A gold star just tells you that someone else thinks you’re doing a good job.  You have to think you’re doing a good job, in the end, that’s what matters.

Life lesson:  A good job is the one you enjoy.  Gold star optional.

Still, yeah, it would have been awesome to know that when I was twelve.

I absolutely don’t want anything to be different, of course.

I’m just saying that some of those self help books were a real pain to read.

And it would be nice to get that money back because I have a lot of label maker refill tape to buy.

See you in a week.  Or so.

Dear California,

Thank you so much for loaning us your Hilary for the past year, it has been a real pleasure.

She’s one of my best friends now, and it is so hard for me to figure out how that happened so fast.  I don’t make best friends very fast, you know.  That stuff takes years with a person like me.  Personally, I think it’s because you have a hippy-dippy love culture going on California, and a few of us in Florida got it all over our clothes while Hilly was here.

Happiness.  That’s what Hillary means, and I have never met someone so dedicated to the pursuit of happiness.  Make sure, California, she finds it when she gets there because she’s worked for it.  She deserves it.

Hilly is our Michael, the reluctant one, the one who pretends she doesn’t belong, but, in the end, the one who belongs most of all.  In fact, she defined The Family in so many ways.  Vito, Sonny and Tom aren’t much fun without Michael.  I mean, they’re still fascinating and awesome, but, let’s face it, they aren’t much of a mafia without Michael around.

California, please do let Hilly know that there will never be another Michael.  Not for us, not for me.  There can be only one.  That’s actually from Highlander.  Which I enjoyed and was probably filmed in California, so thanks for that, too.

Anyway, California, with your awesome weather, super nice people who are so laid back and with your superhero Austrian governor who is surprisingly Republican, thank you for lending us Hilary for a year.  She made Florida so much better when she was here.

Disco Baby, N. and The Dood Kisses,

Faiqa

P.S. Please don’t fall into the ocean.  Seriously.  I mean it.

Edited:  And I spelled her name wrong in the original post.  Because I am an awesome friend.

Inspired by The Happiness Project, by Gretchin Rubin

• Houseplants are an immense responsibility, much like pets, but with far less of a ROI.

• Avoid dishonesty whenever humanly possible.

• Call ahead.

• Despite the fact that people may be more than what they appear, it’s best not to argue with someone about who you think they are.

• Keep a purse with you, in addition to your wallet and phone, make sure it has: tissues, lipstick, some sort of perfume, hand sanitizer, chewing gum and a small snack.

• Saying no to one thing is saying yes to another.

• Tip well.

• If you’re not comfortable with other people discussing your sex life behind your back, do not discuss your sex life with people.

• When formulating a plan, leave blank areas for the unexpected.

• Kindness as a fundamental characteristic is severely underrated.

• Preparing dinner at home does not take more time than going out to dinner.

• Pedestals: avoid putting people on them, avoid being put on them.

• Express admiration openly and often, and accept it with grace and humility.

• A statement of personal preferences is not an accusation or a judgment against the preferences of another.

• Appreciation is not the prize but merely the side effect of doing good for others.

• Perfection?  Not possible.  Do your best, if it’s not good enough?  Somebody else can try.  And will.

• The more someone talks about class the less likely they are to have it.

• A lack of time actually translates to a breakdown in the ability to prioritize.  It’s also usually a reflection of not saying “no” enough.

• Smile at others often.  Except, apparently, when walking down a street in Paris or New York City.

• When faced with the dilemma of analyzing another person’s intention, err on the side of optimism and good will.

• No matter how wealthy you are, always look at the price tag.

• Spend money honestly.  If you can’t afford it, don’t borrow to buy it.

• Clear expectations can help avoid misunderstandings.

• Lime flavored Perrier is both indulgent and refreshing and a wonderful substitute for diet soda.

• Advice is only well received when explicitly asked for.

• Being well liked and well respected are different things.  Strive for the respect, worthy people will like you because of it.

• Well groomed eyebrows can change your life.

• Avoid using the Socratic Method to drive home a point.  Unless you’re a law professor at Harvard, it will simply annoy and discourage people.

• Clean up the kitchen before bed, nothing is more annoying than waking up to a mess.

• Befriend people who own and have read more books than you.

• Respect that the biggest expert of your child’s personality is actually your child.  Believe them when they tell you who they are.

• Some people are better than you, you are better than some people.  And you should stop caring who is who.

• When flying on an international flight exceeding six hours, bring at the very least the following in your carry on luggage: warm socks, books, moisturizer, and a very light change of clothes.  Do not bring a carry on that you cannot lift over your head.  And do not wear binding shoes.  And if you do wear binding shoes, then, don’t take them off until you get to your hotel room.  I repeat, do not take them off on the plane.

***

What about you?  What PG-13 secrets of adulthood would you like to share?

A week ago, I posted about the ever growing stack of novels on my bedside table.

It occurred to me that my opinions on these novels make for excellent blog fodder, and so I offer you a quick review of the most recently finished work from what I’ve termed The Stack.

People who know me really well should appreciate the huge leap it took on my part to approach reading a novel that might be categorized as science fiction.  I chose Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy because, frankly, I found the movie slightly amusing and thought the novel was probably a good read.  I was right.  Sort of.

Completion of the novel solidly proves that (1) the movie was actually really awful and (2) this is a perfect example of why watching a movie is never a viable substitute for reading a book.

Unless we’re talking about Twilight.

The late Douglas Adams was a hilarious writer, injecting dry wit and a sense of irony that is both ordinary and brilliant into a  great premise.

After the Earth is destroyed by a bureaucratic alien race called the Vogons to make way for a hyperspatial freeway, Arthur Dent, our anti-hero, is saved by his friend Ford Prefect, an incognito visitor from another planet.

Ford, who also happens to be a contributing writer to The Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, and Arthur subsequently fall in with a cast of quirky characters, including a hilariously depressed robot.  I mean, really, why would someone create a robot personality that was depressed?  Little things like this is what makes the book really enjoyable.  I particularly respect how this work pokes fun at its own genre in a pretty obvious way and doesn’t in any way, remotely, not at all, never ever takes itself seriously.

I purchased the Complete Hitchiker’s Guide which includes all four of Adams’s novels, but I only finished the first.  Mostly because I have a whole bunch of other books I want to read first.  I’m definitely going to come back to it, though, so I highly recommend it if you’re in the mood for something light, clever and generally funny.

Next in “The Stack”?  Stephen King’s On Writing.  Yes, I am aware of how trite that is.  Thanks.

I’m about two thirds the way through.  So far, so brilliant.

From On Writing (p. 127):

I’m convinced that fear is at the root of most bad writing.  If one is writing for one’s own pleasure, that fear may be mild — timidity is the word I’ve used here.  If, however, one is working under deadlines… that fear may be intense.  Dumbo got airborne with the helo of a magic feather; you may feel the urge to grasp a passive verb or one of those nasty adverbs for the same reason.  Just remember before you do that Dumbo didn’t need the  feather, the magic was in him.

I love my iPhone.  But, it’s time to let it go.

I have come to loathe AT&T.

Those of you who have AT&T are familiar with the reasons why, and those of you who are not with AT&T should be congratulated on being able to hang on to your innocence for this long.

I will not rant on my blog about how completely uncompetitive the rates are, how I was essentially punished for purchasing an iPhone back before 3G and 3Gs, (I realize Apple is more the culprit here than AT&T), how AT&T pretends like it can’t get me a better deal on my plan because Apple won’t let them or how the service is so crappy that my phone doesn’t work in my own house even though I have called them several times to let them know and they have told me for the past five years that they are “working on it.”

I will simply take my business elsewhere to a company that will provide me with a competitive plan and with service in my area.  Like, I don’t know, Verizon.

Dear Internet, meet my new phone.

AT&T?  Can you hear me now?

Anyone else out there using the new Android?  Did you used to have an iPhone?  Care to share your thoughts about the difference?