Maile Hernandez

I’ve been dragging all week.  It’s this insanely hot and humid weather.  I just don’t want to do ANYTHING.  And I feel so bad because I get home at 6 and Max wants to go out to the park or for a walk and it’s the very LAST thing I want to do.  I find that I’m just dying for him to go to bed so that I can pass out too!  Makes me feel like a horrible mother.

Seriously, though, even when I go up the stairs I have to catch my breath at the top, and I think I’m in pretty good shape.  I work out regularly.  But it’s just this crazy, weather-related onslaught of fatigue.

This morning I was still feeling totally blah and draggy.  But then as I made my last turn before I got to work, they mentioned on the radio that there will be no freeway closures this weekend because of the holiday.

YESSSS!!!!!  I hate the neverending freeway closures.

And somehow that totally turned my day around, and now I’m all smiley and in looking-forward-to-the-weekend mode.

So my Livestrong weight tracker.  I really like it but - well, sometimes I wonder if I just require more food than the average person my size.  Because whenever I follow a plan to the T, not only do I lose a lot of weight really quickly, but I also lose energy and have trouble getting motivated to work out.  Maybe I just have to be more careful that what I do eat is nutritious.

Boring.  I’m just thinking that because I’m freezing today at work.  They do keep it really chilly in the building, but part of it is I had a few pounds drop off (all beer bloat, I’m sure) and it’s kind of uncomfortable. 

I’m not sure what we’re doing for fireworks this year.  Last year we found the perfect spot (OH my God, look how blonde I was), but I’m not sure they’re doing fireworks there this year. 

Anyway, I know it’s going to be super hot and all that, and we really don’t have any big plans, but I’m still ready for the weekend big-time.  I feel like Conrad and I have been so tired this week that we’ve barely spent any time together awake!

Once again.  I can’t complain, I put myself here.  There’s a trial all afternoon in our court and I’m festering back here.  All caught up on work and nothing to do. 

How about writing a hilarious yet inspirational blog?

Yeah, have a feeling that’s not happening today.

One tiny piece of news is, I’m making efforts once again to get back into my cuter clothes, which have been gathering dust in my closet since December, when I put on ten pounds.  I have started an account with Livestrong.com.  I paid $2.99 for a Blackberry application that figures out how many calories you need to lose weight at the pace you want, then functions as a diary, keeping track of your calories and also adding in calories you burn in physical activity.  It kind of turns eating and exercising into a video game.  I’ve only done it a couple days but so far I’m finding it fun.  Maybe I’ll actually stick to it this time.

Oh my God, it’s not even 3:30.  Someone please kill me.

Lately my TV watching has been limited to Discovery Health’s “Mystery Diagnosis,” (erasing all the episodes about sick children without watching them, I can’t handle that), “Tori & Dean: Home Sweet Hollywood,” (don’t you judge me), and “The Bachelorette.” 

I can’t decide whether I love or hate Tori Spelling.  She seems like kind of a nice person but my God, living on another planet.  Kind of hard to relate to someone who can sneeze onto a piece of paper and it’s a New York Times Bestseller.  But I guess that’s why there are shows and books about her life and not about mine going to work, coming home and taking Max to the park!  I have to admit her son is pretty damn cute.  They say that being rich and famous is really a drag behind the scenes but I have to say she seems quite happy.  A bit conflicted about work vs. family but who isn’t?  And I bet it’s a lot easier to live with that conflict when you’re getting so much attention/money for what you’re doing.  I wish I had her energy - or rather, her energy as her reality show portrays it, as that’s all I’m privvy to. 

On to another show - I just don’t understand why on “The Bachelorette” they didn’t bring Wes’ alleged “girlfriend,” Laurel, on to explain her relationship with him.  Maybe that’s yet to come.  I can’t believe I’m watching that show.  Is it my imagination or is Jillian getting skinnier and skinnier as the season goes on? 

I’d totally put twenty pounds on if I were on that show with all the wining and dining they do.

Eight years ago my friend’s mother was diagnosed with bone cancer.  It was awful, but my dad and I both said, at least it wasn’t my mom.  A year later my mom was diagnosed with bone cancer.  She died less than two years later, my friend’s mother died a year after my mother.

Six years ago our good friends’ daughter was diagnosed autistic.  I was pregnant at the time, and thought, “It’s going to be so hard for them, seeing our child grow up typical.”

Our child was born six months later, and a year and a half later was diagnosed autistic.  Unlike our friends’ daughter, who had hundreds of words at a very young age, our son didn’t speak at all for more than four years.

I couldn’t help wondering if I’d brought these eventualities in my life about with my thoughts.  They say to be grateful for your blessings, but I was grateful for my blessings, and look what happened.  It makes me scared that I’m in a place where I’m feeling so grateful for what I have now.

Anyway, I was thinking.  If the universe responds in a contrary fashion to my thoughts - how about this:

You know what?  I just would not want to live the life of a wealthy person, like Bill Gates.  I mean, think of all the burdens it would bring.  Leeching relatives, stress that your financial advisors are ripping you off, all the paperwork . . . no way would I want to deal with all that.  Glad it’s him, not me.

And who wants to be as good-looking as Eva Longoria anyway?  All those whistles walking down the street, constantly having men staring at me when I just want my privacy . . . come on.  I’d never know if people liked me just for me, or for my ravishing looks.  Much more trouble than it would be worth.  Let her deal with those woes, and I’ll be grateful they’re not mine.

Finally, I can’t help looking at people like Jen Lancaster, super popular and successful bloggers and bestselling authors, without feeling pity.  Their fun pastimes have been turned into a job!  Now their blogs aren’t just fun, but expected.  They have publishers tapping their toes waiting for them to complete their next book.  Sure, they have money and success, but really.  What a pain in the ass those obligations would be.  So glad that, when I’m just trying to watch “The Bachelorette,” I don’t have to worry that hundreds of people will be waiting for me to share my thoughts on the latest episode on my super-popular website.

And why would I want my husband to have as much business coming in as some of the bigger name law firms in town?  I mean, he wouldn’t be home nearly as much, and to make up for it he’d probably be sending me off to spa appointments all the time.  With pedicures and massages every week, they’d totally lose their novelty and I wouldn’t even enjoy them.  Plus if I had my hair done and facials all the time I’d risk being as attractive as Eva Longoria, and I’ve already shuddered at the thought of all the disadvantages of THAT in the paragraphs above.

No, I wouldn’t change one thing in my life.  I want it to stay JUST THE WAY IT IS.  Listening, Fates?  Above I have listed the trials and tribulations that I see others going through, and I realize anew just HOW FORTUNATE I am not to have to deal with those challenges.  Oh, how I pray I never do! 

I’ve decided that I want to make my number one priority right now learning how to block out all the noise that gets in the way of my living life to the fullest.

One kind of noise - the judgment of others.  I have lived so long in the shadow of the pathological fear of ridicule.  I can’t let that stop me from doing things.  Not just big things, but small, everyday gestures and decisions.  It’s noise.  I have to drown it out.

Another kind - the kind that comes from me.  Negative thoughts, fearful thoughts, thoughts I’m stupid or unable.  Thoughts that come up to distract me from what I really want.  I have to realize that a thought that stops me from doing something I know is good for me is not a real thought.  It is just noise.

Yet another kind is negativity.  Sources of negativity include some things that I used to love - dark works of art, depressing true stories, lurid tales of despair and violence.  I want to change into a person who quite deliberately makes the decision to surround myself with messages of joy, beauty, adventure, and fun.  As Sally told Harry, “dark” does not equal “deep.”  I’ve been taught that depth comes from exploring darkness.  But now I think it’s the opposite.  Because dark stories, dark influences, are the primary sources of the disabling noise I’m talking about.  They bring about negative thoughts within me, and those negative thoughts keep me in a place of fear.  And fear stops you from living life.

So really, to overcome fear and position yourself in life such that you are able to really face and live it, you have to overcome the noise of darkness.  It is, in fact, in the bright sunlight that you are able to get more experiences, grow more as a person, and become a more deep person.  Living in fear is to stay shallow, and convincing yourself that you’re in tune with your dark side and therefore deep is a feeble justification for the continued shallowness, the inability to get out there and live, to grow up.

It takes much more courage to be happy and live in the light, than to be unhappy and hide in the dark.

(She says, sitting alone in the dark at 1:30 a.m. in front of the TV.)

Conrad went to bed early with tummy trouble.  He and Max are sleeping in the bed and I used the time to watch TV and to develop the above-mentioned insights.  I hate to disturb them by moving Max into his own bed.  Maybe I’ll just sleep in Max’s bed.  Tough call.

When Max was little (well, littler than he is now) he loved Toaster Strudels.  The problem was, he would only eat the icing off them and not the strudels themselves.  After a while I stopped buying them because it was a waste.

Well, he’s older now, and I decided on a whim to bring them back into our lives.  He loves the Cinnamon Melts from McDonald’s and I thought maybe this could be a sometime replacement for those.  I presented him one yesterday morning for breakfast.

He initially sniffed at it suspiciously, like a cat.  Then he took a tiny lick.  Then a teeny, tiny bite of one corner. 

“Stwawbewwy,” he observed.

“Yes!  Strawberry, very good!”  Mommy’s usual over-the-top enthusiasm for any little thing he says.

Finally he got down to serious business, and finished the whole strudel before going off to school . . .

And when he got home from school, he had FOUR more!  All of them, not just the icing.

Well, at least there’s a flimsy argument that they have fruit in them.

This morning was the kicker.  Well, it wasn’t morning yet.  At 3 a.m. he came into our room repeating “Stwudoh!  Stwudoh!”  We think that, as on Christmas morning (well, for most other kids it’s this way), the anticipation is what got him up at that insane hour.

Too funny.  He totally fixates on things.  Where on earth does he get that from, I wonder??

We had a financial appointment today - one of the last - yes, we’re finally getting under control again!  It felt so good that we went for dim sum afterwards at the C-Fu Gourmet.  By far the best dim sum in all of Arizona.  It’s worth retaining water for!

Tonight my brother in law and his friend are stopping by for one last time on their way back out East.  Great to see you as always, Ben-ya-meen!

Oh, one more cool thing happened - someone sent my dad, through me, an awesome fan letter!  They loved my parents’ writing.  ALL the different pseudonyms they’d used over the years - Elizabeth Gage, Joseph Glass, David Zeman - even Donna Huxley from the Harlequin romance days.  Super cool.  Back in the day it would happen on occasion, but it’s been a long while.

Meanwhile, speaking of writing success, my cousin is appearing in New Jersey for her book tour this week.

And as for me - well, I’m, uh . . .

Hmm.

Well, I got to use the new copier at work to make 7 copies of a 61 page document this morning.  I guess that was about the professional highlight of my day!

Seriously, though, you should have seen that bad boy spit those things out. 

Oh well.  As my beloved late brother-in-law once said at a reunion when he felt threatened by the successes boasted by those around him - “You might have your fancy cars, your fancy jobs, your fancy families - but I’ve got a fridge full of BEER at home!!”

Max had an evaluation appointment today with a psychologist who was doing the evaluation to help determine what his academic goals at this point in his life should be.  I was really looking forward to her meeting him.

Well, wouldn’t you know, her office had an elevator.

He completely fixated on it and was unable to really function at the evaluation because he was so tortured by the presence of the elevator.  I wasn’t there, but Conrad reported that she said, “If this is any indication, he needs to be in a very specialized atmosphere for autistic children - like Chyrsalis Academy.  Have you heard of it?”

Uh, yeah.  That’s where he goes to school now, and his teachers there have been adamant that he’s ready to mainstream!

So she’s going to visit him at school and hopefully get a more accurate representation of what he’s like.  I was frustrated about it.

Speaking of frustrated, one of my friends who was a co-fanatic of Patti LuPone’s with me back in the day shared with me articles talking about her blowing up at another audience member in a show of hers in Las Vegas last weekend.  The link he gave had many comments about it, and although there were some who felt she was out of line, most applauded her actions.

In a vaccuum, I think I would applaud those actions too.  People can be very inconsiderate patrons of theatre. 

But I just can’t help remembering how judged I felt at the end of my “travels with Patti LuPone.”  I took a big risk and leap of faith in sharing the story of her impact on my life, and I was judged for it, pigeonholed as one to be brushed off as a kook.  Anyone who knows me knows I’m a decent, responsible, intelligent individual.  Furthermore, I put my heart, soul, and skill into a book all about how her great talent led me to make so many positive changes in my life.  A total tribute to her influence, and how many people, no matter how famous, can say that someone has made that kind of gesture?  Especially someone who is educated and from a family of writers, who truly knows how to write a book.

But no.  I had been judged.  There was never the slightest acknowledgment of the efforts I went to, efforts I made all because I had faith that she was something special and her phenomenal influence was worth relating.

Did it hurt?  Sure.  But I still have faith in the book, and in the story that I experienced and related.  No one’s judgment can change that, and the positive feedback I have received from strangers shows me that her estimation of me as someone unimportant and distasteful is not shared by others, even and especially after they have read the whole story of my “LuPone adventures.”

So when I hear of her judging others - even if she is right - it just brings me back to that feeling of pain, of “why?”, of feeling that because her voice is so strong in between the walls of a theatre, it will also always ring strongest in the court of public opinion.  If she says I’m crazy, then it is so.  Those who know me or take the time to really read my story know otherwise, but they are a minority.  Just as those who disagree with her on the issue of dressing down theater patrons are a minority. 

I hated feeling that I was put on the side of “the wrong.” 

Lastly, today I had an awesome treadmill workout!  There was no one in the gym at work and that’s when I do the best.  I really push myself without worrying about the fact that I’m huffing and puffing and red as a beet.  :)  I’m glad I got it in.  I never once have done a workout and then wished I hadn’t.  I just wish I could discipline myself to get up early and do it, but I have tried and tried and it just isn’t something I’m able to do.  Doing it at lunchtime is great, but things can get it the way.  I had a meeting yesterday and another one tomorrow.  And doing it once I get home after work is out of the question.  It makes me feel so good, I wish I could guarantee it every day.  Still, I do pretty well on the whole.

Now if I could just get off those Tammie Coe “Ooey Gooey” cupcakes!

So last night I got home from work at 6:00 and promptly went straight to bed.  I planned to just nap a bit while Conrad graciously took Max on the nighttime runs.  But I crashed right out and when he got home, I stayed there.  I ended up going to bed at about 6:30 and getting up at 7:30 this morning!  Man!  For someone who leads such a dull life I sure am tired!

Today I have off.  My brother in law Ben is going to be in town so I think we may get together with him later.  I miss Ben.  He’s in my book.  He used to live here.  Then, a bit of a nomad, he moved to the East Coast.  I think he’s getting ready to move to Florida or something now, I’m not quite sure.  He’s hard to keep track of.  But I wish, though I know it’s not in his nature, that he would have stayed here.  He’s a fun guy about my age, strange, but with a good heart.  And I wish Max could see more of him too.  I grew up with “fun uncles” and I know there’s nothing like a fun uncle.

I was reading that Matt Logelin has a book deal.  He had an auction with seven publishers vying for the book rights to his story.

I’m jealous.  I mean how awesome would it be to have people care about you that much, that all these publishers just know that they’ll clamor to read your story?

But you know why, it’s because he takes part in life.  His wife died and it was very horrible.  But he kept a lively blog that showed how much effort he puts into his days.  He puts out 100 per cent effort for his little girl and it shows in his blogs and pictures.  And he started that foundation in honor of his wife.  He didn’t just tread water, he LIVED.  That’s why he’s interesting.  That’s why people care about him and what he has to say.

Getting out there and living doesn’t always come naturally to me.  I’m a turtle and hide in my shell, and any pain leads me to stay there fifty times longer than I was already inclined to.  But I have to remind myself to do it, to go against my nature.  Not for a book deal - though that would be GREAT, it’s a chance in a million - but because in my mind, people caring about you is the measuring stick for how well you’re living.  If they don’t care, it’s because you haven’t done enough to deserve a second thought.

I’m just not sure which direction to go next.  It’s hard to tell which direction to go with this freaking shell blocking my view!

God, what a bland day.  What a bland life I have going right now.  Every day, the same routine.  Every day, the same vapid pleasantries exchanged between the same people.  And it’s not just because I’m a secretary.  I hear my judge in the courtroom and it’s the same, the litany, the admonitions, the same words, used day after day after day.

Is boredom really such a vital prerequisite to the condition of the average human?  Is this what we crave?  Because our society and habits certainly foster it. 

I hate fear and anguish, but boredom is right up there, too.  I hate getting hurt when I take chances, but boredom is in itself painful as well.  Safety is a prison.

It’s this job.  I just feel dead.  And I feel like I see the deadness in the eyes of everyone around me.  People just going through the motions. 

Of course, they’re probably different at home.  It’s a job.  They do it and then they go home for their real lives. 

I chose a job that’s safe and boring.  I don’t get hurt or humiliated.  Or challenged.  My job doesn’t require ME.  It requires any person willing to sit in this chair and carry out the necessary tasks with the appropriate efficiency.

And so what?  Lots of people live like this.  There’s nothing wrong with it.

No, no one can fault me now.  No one can laugh at me now.  I’ve insulated myself.  Perfectly.  Untouchable. 

Untouched.

In other news, I’m ready for I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here to be over. It’s becoming tiresome.  Final verdicts: Janice Dickinson is insane and repellent, Speidi are fun to watch, Lou Diamond Phillips is hot, Sanjaya is a really nice guy, Torrie irritates me and I’m not sure why, nor am I sure why America is so in love with John Salley, who I think has been a whiny puss.  The end.

Jen Lancaster has come out with her latest memoir, Pretty in Plaid.  Back when Jen came to do a book signing here in Phoenix, I went to it and brought a copy of my book to her.  Man, was I nervous to do that.  I didn’t want to be one of those self-promoters but I’d heard that she’s a really fast and voracious reader, so I figured I’d just give it a try.  The thing is I thought, knowing my luck, she’d be mortally offended.  It’s a defining aspect of my life that other people can do a million self-promoting things and get in no trouble for it and indeed, have positive results, but then when I take a deep breath and get my guts up to do one self-promoting thing I’ll get my head bitten off for it!

Anyway, she politely took the copy I proffered.  Actually, Conrad was the one who actually gave it to her because I was too afraid.  She said she’d read it but I don’t know if she ever did.  Maybe she read it and thought it was crap.  Anyway, I never heard a thing and decided to quit while I was ahead.

I don’t believe that feeling like a sheepish piss-ant for giving this illustrious, successful author, whose words are so sought after that she has a contract for five memoirs, each of which has rocketed to the top of the NY Times bestseller list,  a copy of my own self-published memoir that no one ever heard of, and having been predictably ignored, affects my opinion of her fourth book at all.  I expect to be ignored, received as inconsequential and at best a little ridiculous.  The fact that yesterday I ran into someone who actually professed to be a “huge fan” - of ME - caused me way more consternation and disbelief than any rejection ever can.

Rather, I think that I just couldn’t get into Pretty in Plaid because the backdrop of this memoir is not food or money, but clothes.  And I just don’t get into fashion trends, don’t look back with nostalgia at jelly shoes or Forenza sweaters or banana clips, quite simply because they held no more interest for me at the height of their popularity than they do now.  I am just not a girl with a passion for fashion.

She is a funny lady, obviously.  And I will buy all her books, because she is on the whole entertaining, and because I do think there is much to be learned from her writing.  She is engaging and accessible.  And I must admit, I still did laugh out loud a few times.  Any book that makes me laugh out loud at all is definitely worth the time.  Plus I got the book from Amazon for a scant $1.95 because I had money left over from my $100 gift certificate to Amazon that my dad gave me back at Christmas!

So I was watching “I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here” and was absolutely stunned by the antics of Janice Dickinson.  I mean, I was astonished that people in white coats were not showing up to escort her to the nearest facility with foam walls instanter.  I couldn’t believe that all of America was standing by watching this person and doing nothing about it.  How do people like this get through life, I wondered?  I couldn’t see how she could maintain normal human function, let alone be on network TV.

I thought of all the times in my life that I’ve cringed at what I’ve done, and none of it was remotely as off-the-wall as this woman’s on-camera behavior.  Why was America exploiting this woman’s insanity?  It was practically immoral to have her on display rather than getting her professional help.  However, she is not only out of her mind, but despicable.  Disgusting habits, blatant dishonesty, looking for a fight from everyone she meets - I prayed that in my life I would never run into her or anyone as terrifying, sickening, and rage-inducing as Janice.

Then I looked online for the comments of other viewers so I could feel less alone in my shock and horror.  And what did I find?

“OMG I LOVE Janice Dickinson!  I wish she was my mom!  I only watch this show because Janice Dickinson is on it!  Janice Dickinson for President!  Janice Dickinson is my wanna-be!”

Sure, there were some “Janice Dickinson is an effin’ moron” comments, but the comments of adoration far outnumbered them.

Have I completely misunderstood life?