Because I’m thinking it’s becoming a need.

No joke. Gmail has barely worked all week. I open it and it says I’m not there. It won’t send my emails. Then sometimes it does work. But only for a bit. It’s like it’s napping 94% of the time. I’ll get emails to my phone that won’t show up in my inbox for hours.  I can’t even discuss the Gchat issues, because that make me want to cry. But hai, it stops mid-sentence and kicks me out. Or sometimes the person I’m talking too. For some odd reason, it rarely kicks us both out at once. WTF is that about? It also is randomly sending me emails. Gchat is sending me emails. Why? I don’t know. But it is. Of current conversations that I’M STILL HAVING!! Emails that I have opened six times, but it’s convinced it’s still a new email to be read.

Facebook isn’t any better. It’s only sending status update emails when it feels like it. Which is very convenient. I’d like to try that. I’ll only feed my children when it’s convenient for me. I’ll only put gas in my car when I feel like it. I’ll only pay my bills every 13th month. It sends me things at odd hours. I got something yesterday that was a note from someone from FOUR DAYS AGO. Um, hi, I’ve already been on FB and replied to that and the person already responded and then I responded again. I’m betting I’ll get those sent to me this weekend.

And Twitter….oh special little Twitter. I have seen the fail whale more times this week, then in the last three months alone. You get on one second and then the next second you aren’t on. It lets you send tweets sometimes and others it’s loading for 5 minutes and somehow your tweet didn’t get posted. I’ve taken to copying every tweet before I hit publish, just because I get tired of re-writing them. It sends DM’s hours later and sometimes four of the same one. It sends them out of order too, so you feel like you’re having a conversation backwards an upside down.

It’s like the Internet is failing. It needs to get it’s shit together. I’m tired of this. And yes, it’s all about me. Ha.

I’m about to purchase these things I think I remember….stamps? I’ll need to buy paper too. Where does one buy paper and stamps? Anyone remember?

Also, are carrier pigeons still around? Know where I can get one of those? Do we have to go back to cans and string? Do you think cans and string would make it to Oregon and California?

But, for serious? My two best friends live in different states. This? Is how I communicate with them. This is how I communicate with all of my friends. The Internet is my lifeline. It needs to step up it’s game. Now.

It was brought to my attention last night by some amazingly awesome friends, that I will not get kicked of the island if I don’t figure my life out by the time I turn 30 in a month. Shocker, I know. Basically the consensus is I’m worrying about something that is completely mental. That I need to relax about it, because I really, truly have enough to worry about. Also? That I’m not the only one who had no clue what they wanted to do at 30 years old. Which really is good to know, because I’ve been freaking out for days now. This is why one needs great friends. Friends to listen to you whine and cry, who will also tell you to CHILL OUT ALREADY!

My mother asked me yesterday what I wanted for my birthday. Of course in that moment had no idea, however I’ve managed to think of some things. To move the last three posts down a bit (Because holy cow, hai depression. Sorry friends. Today really is a better day. Promise.), I’ve decided to post this magnificent list for you all. Because really, it may be a bit more than my mother can handle. Maybe some of you can help her out? I know you are all just itching to get me birthday presents. Anyway…

1. An island. Preferably a warn, sunny, beautiful, relaxing, great beach island. With cabana boys, drinks in coconuts and a free Starbucks.

2. The winning Power Ball numbers. Because I’d like to be independently wealthy.

3. My own private jet that will fly me wherever I want to go, whenever I want to go.

4. A House Elf.

5. An iPhone. Oh and a Kindle too. While I’m on this subject, a new Mac laptop, one that doesn’t over heat and need a time out after 40 minutes would be nice too.

6. A brand new house, with a huge kitchen and all new furniture.

7. For all my closest friends to live on the same block as me.

8. A Hawaiian vacation. Two weeks would be lovely.

9. A trip to London.

Nine sounds like a nice round number, so I’ll stop there for now. Let me know if you have any questions whatsoever.

I feel like I should explain a few things after my post yesterday.

Last week, I hit a new stage of my grief. The, holy shit this is real part. Like forever real. This is not a dream I will wake up from one day. It’s not something that is going to change, or get easier over night. This. Is. Real. (Sorry Marinka, sometimes, a sentence just calls for being separated like that.)

It knocked me flat on my ass. It crippled me honestly. I was crippled by the grief and fear of it for four days. I did nothing except think about it and panic. It kind of scared me. I thought the initial grief was worse, that it’d be no worse than that. This was worse.

Then on Sunday, the clouds parted and unicorns shot down from the….

Okay, I’m kidding. About the unicorns at least. Sounded funny in my head. Truth is, after four days of freaking out, I got tired. I got tired of spazzing out. Tired of questioning everything I do and everything I say. Tired of crying. Tired. Just plain, tired.

So I stopped. I stopped letting my grief control me in that moment. I spent Sunday playing with my kids. I haven’t had a panic attack in a few days. Even though I haven’t slept much the past few nights weeks, I can honestly tell you, I’m doing a little better. Have I freaked out a bit, yes. Obviously. Have I had moments of panic, yes. Especially yesterday when I had to let my kids spend the night with their dad for the first time. But I did okay.

Then I heard that one of the women I care about most in this world is undergoing one of the scariest things I can think of. A double mastectomy is major surgery. It would scare me in someone my age. But my 92 year old great-auntie is not my age. It scares me.

In this moment, I am doing a little better. Do I think I’m done with any of the above? Heck no. This is hard people. This is so hard, that some days, I think it will eat me. Then I have days where I think I may just make it to the other side of this. The last couple of days have been a little better. But there always seems to be something else. Always.

I was not raised in any religion. My father is an atheist. His family was once Jewish, but not since they escaped to America from Poland. My father is first generation America. What’s left of that religion, for our family at least,  is certain phrases, curse words and the ability to make latkes. My mother was raised Baptist, but didn’t raise us in that religion. However in times of crisis, she goes back to her roots. She has faith. She prays. She does whatever she does, because it gives her peace of mind. But it’s not like she really has a religion. She doesn’t in fact, believe in organized religion. Whatever, my mom…she’s her own oxymoron.

I however was not raised that way. I was raised in Los Angeles. Our version of religion was bagels and the beach on Sundays. My experiences of church and any bit of actual religion were the three weeks we spent with my grandparents each summer.

I do not have faith. I do not have religion. However, I respect everyone who does. Honest.

Yesterday, I was angry. Yesterday, I was freaked out. Yesterday, I’d spent all night fretting, I hadn’t slept and I posted what I did, because I needed to write. This is my space to vent. My space to put my thoughts out into the world. My therapy.

I wasn’t saying that I don’t believe in the power of prayer, or that I see anything wrong with it. If it came across that way, I truly am sorry. I didn’t mean to offend anyone. Religion in any form is hard to discuss online. There is always someone who will take offense.

But I won’t lie and tell you that I get it.

What I know is this: I have hope. I have hope that I will start feeling better soon. Hey, I’ve done better this week than last, so that’s something at least. I have hope that my great-auntie is strong enough and stubborn enough to survive. I have hope. Not always, not even often in the past few weeks. I always find it eventually though.

I’ll leave the praying up to the rest of the world. I’ll leave the faith, for those of you who have it. When I say I’m thinking of you and hoping for the best, I promise you, I am. Because that’s all I’ve got.

Maybe it’s the same thing, different wording. Maybe I’m just too dam stubborn for my own good. I don’t know. That’s all I know.

Oy, one more thing…

A lot of times you all comment and say, I don’t know what to say. I adore each of you for your comments, support and love. But I want you to know that it’s okay to not know what to say. Most of the time, I don’t know what to say. I’m really bad at returning emails or responding to comments. I start to comment and then delete it before I finish. I flitter in and out of this world right now, depending on my mood. Just know, it’s okay. I won’t tell anyone what to do or not to do, but it’s okay if you don’t know what to say. Promise.

Me: Girls if you could do one more thing this week, before school starts, what would it be?

Morgan: I’d like to go back to Disneyland.

Bailey: Um, I think I want to play in the sprinklers.

Yep, there it is. Right there in two sentences, the explanation on how completely opposite my daughters are.I adore them for their differences, but this really does make explaining it a bit easier.

On my last post…well the consensus seems to be that I should just delete/block trolls and ignore what they say to me. Get over it, I suppose. I don’t know what to say about that, except I guess I’ll stop talking about it.