Wednesday 6/30
4:00 PM
I'm speaking to a client on the phone. Thank God he's chatty. It's the last day of the month and I need to get my sales in before the end of the day. The more he talks, the better it is for me. So, keep on chatting, buddy, keep on chatting. I try to make small talk by mentioning to him that I met my husband years ago doing community theatre. I'm sure he doesn't give a damn about where or when I met MJ, but I seriously need the talk time. My ass is already on the line as it is. So, if that means that I have to talk to someone about the invention of the tampon then I will do so. As long as I get in that phone time I have no boundaries.
I hang up with Mr. Friendly Client and document my sales information in the database. I hear the little beeping sound that my phone makes and pick up the receiver. "So, you are a member of the Hudson Players?" It's Mr. Friendly Client. I'm thrown off guard because he lives many states away. I reply with "Umm...How did you..." He laughs and tells me that he Googled me. Still a tad creeped out, I answer the question he was calling about and I send him on his Google searching way.
I then start to think about how connected I really am to the world. I instantly get paranoid and check all of my settings on Twitter and Facebook. I have my picture on every site I belong to, including LinkedIn. I never really thought about random strangers checking me out. I definitely never thought about my clients checking me out. I'm sure these guys just want an image to go along with the voice they hear on their end of the line. Okay...now I feel like a phone sex operator. I'm really not worried about my picture getting viewed. I actually find it rather flattering (Hey, I take what I can get these days). I'm more nervous about people seeing Baby Girl's pictures. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see my settings are fine and no one can see her pictures.
5PM
I'm singing along to Lady Gaga in my car like the rock star I pretend to be when my station loses its signal. I change over to talk radio and hear the host of the radio show talking about how Google is about to come out with a site that is going to crush Facebook. They continue to talk about how many people are connected on Facebook and how that number will at least double with this new site. I think to myself, "Great. Now every stalker on the planet can check my picture out. Am I too connected?" The timing of this radio show was perfect. I'm already paranoid about enough things. Things such as Baby Girl getting sick, fires, tornadoes,or missing out on the Norstrom half yearly sale. It’s not like I really need to add another item to the list.
8 PM
I'm an hour away from a "mom's night out" with one of my girlfriends. Even though we are going to one of my favorite local establishments, I just feel like staying on the couch all cuddled with Baby Girl. I miss her so much during the work day that I savor every snugly little moment that we share. However, I am longing for some adult alone time. I've been toting Baby Girl around with me like she's the new Marc Jacobs bag since she was born. I think I can stand to go out with some friends and relax.
After 4 outfit changes, I kiss MJ and Baby Girl good-bye and head out. It's karaoke night at the place I'm meeting my friend, so I blare my ipod in hopes to be inspired to pick a song to sing. I see my friend at the bar and am instantly glad I chose to come out. She and I have a fun time swapping mommy stories. It's nice being able to share the cute things that Baby Girl does without the fear that the person listening wants to drink a cyanide martini from boredom.
A few other friends join us and before you know it we are up singing "Vogue" as if we were the Pussycat Dolls live in person. Suddenly, I'm approached by a creeper who has just finished singing, or should I say screaming, a Journey song. He's very reminiscent of the school bus driver, Otto Man, from the Simpsons in appearance. He totally puts off that vibe that he's in his late 30's, living in his mom's basement, and spends his day between stalking E-bay for Star Wars paraphernalia and playing Wii. He awkwardly makes his way to me and tells me that I have an amazing voice and he really wants to hear me sing again. I politely say thank you and turn back to my friend. He taps me on the shoulder and tries to make small talk about the fine art of karaoke. I try to blow him off as nice as possible and am sure to flash my ring a few times. He seems to get the hint and walks away. What's up with me today and random guys?
I sing one more song, hug my friends good-bye, and head towards the door. Creeper starts to follow me towards the door. He tells me "I'd love to see you back here again. You have a great voice and we'd love have you as a part of our crowd." I'm instantly annoyed beyond belief. A.) This has been MY bar since I was about 20 years old and I've been coming to karaoke for the past 7 years. So, don't tell me that "we'd love to have you." I AM "we", ok? B.) What part of having a ring shoved in your face would remotely make you think I'm into you? And C,) Do I really look like the type of girl who's going to be into someone who most likely still wears Superman underoos and sleeps with his comic books? I look at him, smile, and say "Why thank you. My husband and I will be sure to come here in the future." Then, I run like hell to my car and lock the doors.
Midnight
I peak in on my tiny sleeping beauty whose belly is rhythmically going up and down in her crib. I quickly wash off my make-up and crawl into bed next to MJ. As I drift off, I think about the day. It was both odd and interesting based on the fact that I was approached twice by random strangers.
Hmm...Maybe I should triple I check my on-line privacy settings.
