I'm SO Excited About the iPhone 5

Just kidding.

Here's the phone I've been carrying since 2009.

It does so many things.

It takes calls.

It makes calls.

It receives texts.

It sends texts.

Um...

It, uh...

Let me think.

OH! It doesn't ever butt dial anyone because it's a flip phone.

It's broken so sometimes when I flip it open to make a call, the back pops off, the phone turns itself off, and I just take it as a sign from the universe that I am not supposed to call or text that person.

It never, ever accidentally tweets topless photos of me for the world to see. (How the hell does that happen? Never mind. I don't want to know.)

A flip phone is like an antique.

That's it. It's vintage.

'Cause I'm cool like that.

Now you kids get off my lawn!

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Advice in a Time of Loss

Two days ago a friend reached out to me for advice on talking to her child about suicide. A friend, the mother of one of her son's classmates, died this week.

My friend was in shock and reeling. It's the kind of death that leaves too many unanswered questions, regrets, anger.

It will leave so many people in nearly unbearable pain. My heart aches for them, because I know that this is only the beginning. In fact, the beginning is almost easy compared to the rest, because your body and mind go into shock. It is a protection that doesn't last long, but while it does you can do what must be done. You can follow the steps that we, as a society, have chosen to follow when confronted with death. Visitations and funerals and easy dinners in casserole dishes.

Sometimes I feel as if I am someone waking up from a long coma. And maybe that's something I would say to people: Stay still for a bit. Breathe in and out.

My heart hurts for everyone who has to go through this.

My heart hurts when people say, "How could she do this to her children?" or "I would never do this to my children."

I need people to stop saying that. I don't just mean that I want it or it would be nice. I need it. I need it like a heart needs to beat and lungs need air.

So this is always my first piece of advice: Don't say those things.

I know you want to and I understand it. Of course, I do. But here is what I know for a fact: This statement only tells those children and the world that their parent didn't love them enough. And that is simply not true. It tells the child that if his father had only loved him enough, he would have stayed alive. This statement makes the child believe that he was not enough. Imagine how children blame themselves for their parents' divorces and how much that hurts them. Now imagine what they might do when you say, "I would never..." and they take on the weight of blame for their own parent's death.

My ex-husband loved his children with all his heart. He once posted a photo album online titled "My Life" and it was all photos of our two children. When he wasn't with them, he called them every single day to say, "I love you." He never once forgot.

So you can think it. Of course, you will think it. In private, in the dark, at night when the lights are out and you are wondering how this could happen. You will need a way to reassure yourself that this could never happen to you. And that statement - I would never - does the job. Hang onto it.

But it isn't really true.

In the years since Charles's death, I have been to the depths of my spirit. I have struggled with depression. During a really bad patch, I thought these words every single day: "I could kill myself." I would push it away, but it was there, this knowledge of something that might end my pain. I'm not really sure how I got through it. I think the line between those of us who make it and those who don't is much thinner than any of us want to believe.

That's how depression works. It lies to you. It whispers in your ear. It tells you that the world and everyone you love and know would be better off without you. It tells you that this pain will never go away. It tells you that life could go on for everyone else and that you could just rest. Because you are exhausted. You are emotionally bereft. You are lost in a darkness so black and unending that there is no "light at the end of the tunnel."

You can't just snap out of it. (More advice: Don't say that to someone who is struggling.) There is no perspective. (More advice: Don't say, "It could be worse." When you tell someone that their problem isn't that bad, that person will only feel worse for being so unbearably upset over something that's "not that bad.")

There is no thinking straight.

And so this is the other thing I share with people. When you talk to your children about someone's death by suicide, you must tell them that the person was ill. Because they were.

No one seems to want to talk about mental illness but it is no less important an issue and no less dangerous to the body than cancer.

When I told my children that their father had died - and please have no doubt that this was the hardest thing I have ever had to do - I told them that Daddy wasn't thinking straight. He was sick in his head and he was in pain. I said to them that he never would have done this if he had been in his right mind.

If you stop for a moment and think about it, you will know this is true. And you can find a way to explain it to children in this way. Your friend's mommy was in pain. She was lost. She was sick. Sometimes people make a decision that they never would have made otherwise.

I definitely understand the anger that comes when something like this happens. I spent so many nights wanting to scream at Charles. I would drive alone and, at the top of my lungs, I would yell, "Fuck you." Sometimes I would whisper it. Sometimes it still comes back at me, like a charging bull.

Speak about happy times to the children of those who die by suicide. Share your good memories. One of my favorite things is to suddenly be reminded of a funny story about Charles and to share it with my kids. It can be as small as Ice Ice Baby coming on the iPod and us laughing about how their dad used to dance to it, poorly and without rhythm.

It is with these stories that, while you cannot keep your lost friend alive, you can keep the LOVE of that friend alive. You can show that child that his or her parent was important and cherished.

Even when he was lost in a forest so dark it swallowed all hope, your parent never stopped loving you.

And if your child wants to talk about the sadness, let them. Take them to counseling and let them know that they can go back whenever they want to talk about things. Go to counseling yourself and say all the things out loud that you have been whispering to yourself at night. Let your counselor tell you that the night is full of lies. Believe her.

Christopher Hitchens once wrote of Francisco Goya's Los Caprichos, a series of etchings that included one "where a man in defenseless slumber is hag-ridden by bats, owls, and other haunters of the darkness." El sueno de la razon produce monstrous. "The sleep of reason brings forth monsters."

You must shine a light on the dark things that will attack you at night when your defenses are down.

Seek out friends who will listen. Do your own fair share of listening, too.

I try not to focus too much on all the things Charles is missing and will miss, but that doesn't mean the truth of it, the charging bull, doesn't knock me off my feet sometimes. That doesn't mean I don't wish every day that I could change the past. 

But mostly I think of Charles with love and forgiveness and understanding. And part of why I must do that is because I need kind of desperately to offer myself those same things. 

So that's my other piece of advice I give people when they ask. Don't look for ways to blame each other for what has happened. 

Forgive the person you have lost because you must do this in order to forgive yourself.

Love one another.

If you are in Shreveport October 20, please join us for the Out of the Darkness Walk to benefit the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. You don't need money or to train for a 5k. Click here to join our team. 

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How To Argue Like a Drug Addict

Recently, a friend posted on Facebook her view that Mitt Romney not offering up more of his tax returns is outrageous. So - you know what's coming - Romney supporters came to his defense.

"Seriously?" wrote one. "Obama has shelled out millions to PREVENT some of his background documentation from becoming public and the Left is going after Romneys (sic) tax return?" (Note: Please provide links to credible news sources that back up your claims, people.)

"Hmmm...just as outrageous as not offering a birth certificate," wrote another.

/sigh/

Seeing Mitt Romney's tax returns is not necessary for me to make a decision. I don't care if he releases any more than one.

But I really am trying to understand people here, so bear with me.

A person believes that Obama not showing his birth certificate (or whatever background documentation they claim he's hiding) is outrageous?

We'll just set aside the fact that he has, in fact, released his birth certificate and that the birther issue is racist nonsense. Allow me to say that again. RACIST NONSENSE.

I just got a part-time job working for a software/service company in Birmingham and I had to bring in my social security number AND my birth certificate AND a copy of my driver's license. I'm quite certain in order to get his first paycheck as a government employee that Obama turned in plenty of documentation. And I'm quite certain you people should move on.

 But let's say a person believes so strongly that Obama is wrong for not releasing everything the general public wants to see, so that person uses it as an argument that Romney not releasing the tax returns that more than 50 percent of those polled want to see is perfectly OK.

Am I getting this right? In their minds, these two acts are equivalent to one another.

Whether this is true or not, this is what they believe.

So, they say one is wrong and the wrongness of that act makes the other act acceptable?

One thinks diverting attention away from the economy and putting it on Mitt's tax returns is wrong, but he is on board with ignoring the economy to beat the dead horse that is Obama's birth certificate?
(racist nonsense)

My children frequently use this method of debate when I tell one of them to clean his or her room.

"But my brother's room is messy!" is not an acceptable reason not to clean your own room.

I once knew a drug addict who would also use this method of defense.

When confronted about his abuse, he would say, "But B- takes pills."

When arrested for a DUI, he said, "But T- was arrested for the same thing."

That's not exactly a valid defense, but whatever. He was high.

So when people, on either side, use this method of "debate" - the "But Johnny did it!" method - honestly, I'm going to have to assume you are: a) High on pills or b) Have the emotional maturity of a seventh-grader.

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Clooney Tuesdays - Useless News Updates

Happy Clooney Tuesday, everyone.

You've been waiting all week for this, haven't you?

Today, let's just take a cruise around the Web and see what we find:

Is Bradley Cooper the Next George Clooney? 

An article on Forbes.com says that Bradley Cooper is taking the George Clooney path to the top - "One for them, one for me." Big movie, small movie, big movie, small movie, nipples on the batsuit, small movie.


Bradley is exceptionally attractive. No doubt about that. His blue eyes are amazing. I watched Limitless over the weekend and, yowza, I really didn't pay attention to the plot. Basically, what I took from it is that drugs are fucking awesome.

And he speaks French. That's certainly a selling point.

But you probably already know my answer to the question posed by Forbes.com.

No. George Clooney is the next George Clooney.

Farmers Don't Really Look That Good, Do They? 


The designers of Farmville, that game 100 million people play on Facebook and 200 million people ignore on Facebook, have created a character partially based on George Clooney.

Art Director Daryl Anselmo tells EW: "We’ve got a character named Gus and when we were designing Gus we were looking at leading men, and a couple that come to mind are George Clooney and Brad Pitt. They’ve got that 'loveable guy who’s attractive in a way he doesn’t really understand' [vibe] and we sort of looked at Pitt and Clooney and tried to carry that in his personality."

This will still not make me play Farmville or stop hiding the incessant updates from those who play.

Instead, I will picture myself having a roll in the hay with George Clooney.

And, lastly, just in time for Clooney Tuesday, my Uncle Mark shared this photo on Facebook. 

Just look at George reading a newspaper like someone who wants to stay informed. Or, I don't know, check his horoscope. Here's today's prediction for Taurus:

"Take a risk — especially if you’re single and looking. Ask out that total hottie, because even if you strike out, you’re still forcing the universe to take notice of your boldness. That’s never bad!" - Astrology.com 

Man, horoscopes are stupid.

Hope the stars bring you all the things a star is capable of bringing you - a lot of night-time light from a massive, luminous sphere of plasma held together by gravity.

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A Little Something for a Monday

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Six Months...The Countdown Begins

This morning, I got a "Happy Half-Birthday" text message from my friend Katie. Her daughter Jane Darby turns 1 today so Jane Darby and I are half-birthday buddies. The day Jane Darby was born was frightening for Katie and her husband Drew, for their families and friends, but outside it was stunningly gorgeous, much like today has been in Birmingham.

Like that day when Jane Darby's life was in the balance, today is one of those days when you feel the passage of time in the air. You feel the passing from one season to the next or, at least, the promise of change.

A year later, Jane Darby is thriving. She is beautiful and, like her mother, her smiley face emits a bright light.

I wished Jane Darby a wonderful day, and then I told Katie, "Let's not discuss how I am six months away from my 40th birthday."

Afterward, I did a little mental inventory - am I thriving? - and I found the following disturbing results:

I am not even close to being a published author.

But this woman is making $1 million a week.

I am not even close to taking a trip to Bora Bora with George Clooney.

I am not even close to getting Suze Orman off my case.

You know how some people have a retirement account? 

I am not even close to being able to pay all my bills on my current hourly wage.

I am not even close to fitting into my skinny jeans.

I am not even close to implementing some fun mid-life-crisis strategies like buying a convertible or, like my idol, having a red-hot affair with someone way too young for me.

It's quite possible my goals for my 40th year of living have been a bit unrealistic.

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First World Problems

"Now we have to make ice in trays like savages." 

                    - Jacob commenting on our broken ice maker

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