Am(bien)nesia

Like most people, I lead a pretty busy life. I'm a full-time student, mother to a 7-month-old, wife to a brain injury patient, an intern at a media company, an advice columnist, a blogger, and I work full time. I'm definitely not complaining; I have many blessings in my life for which I give thanks every day, and I love being busy. I guess some people just work better under pressure. But, I digress.

Because of everything I have going on, my mind is constantly racing. Efficient? Yes. Annoying? Absolutely. I can't get to sleep, and when I do finally fall asleep, I usually wake up obnoxiously early. In fact, it is 6:00 a.m. and I have been in the office for an hour already. I talked to my therapist about this and she prescribed me Ambien CR about two months ago. It works wonders - definitely a quick fix for sleep deprivation - but at 27 years old, I find that when I take it, I need a babysitter.

You see, there's something about Ambien that makes my entire being scream, "I MUST EMBRACE TECHNOLOGY!" This irrational insistence usually manifests itself as long-winded, nonsensical Facebook posts on the walls of anyone unfortunate enough to show up in my news feed. I've also been known to write cryptic emails and send mysterious text messages, and occasionally have very long, important discussions with my husband. When I wake up the next day, I remember none of this. None. My latest Ambien-induced blunder was about three nights ago, when I was going about my bedtime routine. The events as reported to me by Wes go something like this: Ellie woke up extremely congested and wheezy (she has severe allergies and asthma-like symptoms which require breathing treatments and close monitoring). I thought she was so sick that we would have to take her to the doctor the next morning, which made me think I would be late for work. So, I did what any rational person would do: I sent an email from my BlackBerry to all of my co-workers, including my boss. Here is an exact copy of the email, cut and pasted (this is not a joke, I ACTUALLY sent this):

"I'm going to be late, Ellie is very wheezy so we're gonna give her a breathibg trtnt first thing. Could we possibly move the meeting to 11 or I can meetp privately w scoot when I get back. Also I ujusttkk my ambien awhile ago so if I misspell stuff then I'm sorry! The bottom lime is ths: ill be there at some point and maybe someone can tell me how themtg wentm jessy need seepy"

Does this remind anyone else of a drunk-dial? A couple of things to point out: 1. My boss's name is Scott. I'm not sure who Scoot is. 2. I'm not sure why I would be talking about fruit (the bottom lime? Who are you, Jess?). 3. There are words in there of which even I'M not sure of the meaning. 4. Notice how I artfully ended the letter with "jessy need seepy." No punctuation, no indication that the letter was ending, just a random declaration.

I'm not alone in this; I Google'd to find more Ambien horror stories, and there were so many sites that I actually had a hard time choosing which link to include with this email. One story, taken from user Pennemu on digg.com, is as follows:

"This happened to my girlfriend, who's a nurse. She put her Zyrtec and Ambien in the same bottle, thinking that because she's a nurse, she'd be fine. So in the morning she went to take her Zyrtec and accidently took an Ambien instead. Of course I didn't find out what had actually went on much later. So we're sitting in bed watching TV and she starts speaking in a some what slow manner. As this continued, I started to become worried. As I turned to talk to her the bed moved a little, and she yelled at me to stop shaking the boat. Then she started crying because she thought I was a gorilla. And her eyes would close periodically for short amounts of time. After she go over the crying she started telling me about how my left eye hated her and wanted to kill her. While my right happened to be friendly and like her a lot. I believe there was also something about alligators and some chipmunks hanging out in the room to. I was very worried. But all the strange symptoms seemed to subside after about an hour and a half."

Nothing that strange has ever happened to me, but is this Ambien we're talking about here, or LSD?


*Note: Wes and I have now set a policy that I am restricted from any use of technology including internet, email, and phone as soon as I take my pill. So, don't worry, I won't likely be calling any of you to bail me out of jail in the middle of the night.

Are You Kidding, Poo Trap?

I was very troubled this weekend trying to decide if the new product, the Poo Trap, is real or just a form of social experiment to prove that people will buy ANYTHING. Sadly, I think this apparatus is for real (or, "fo' rizzle," as I think the kids are saying it these days).

Are we really so lazy that it is now too much trouble to bring a baggie along to dispose of the doody when we walk our dogs and ? If you are creative enough, you don't have to touch it; you just turn the baggie inside-out, snatch up the stinky, and off you go. I'm so disheartened to discover that we would rather strap a ridiculous-looking contraption onto our furry companions to hold a baggie over their bums while they do their business. Will people actually use this? Or, is it targeted to late-night shopping channel addicts who have a closet-full of Snuggies and a case of ShamWow towels sitting in their foyer? Were the creators of this product sitting in their board meeting and somehow made a bet?
Guy 1:"Dude, guys, check this out. No, seriously, this is funny. Listen. So, we develop this really complicated harness thingy for a dog, and it has a slot where you can juxtapose a baggie right over his rear... to catch his poop!" (Uproarious laughter follows)
Guy 2: "Oh, man, that is hilarious. I bet you couldn't sell a single one of those! I mean, people are stupid, but they aren't THAT stupid!"
Guy 3: "This sounds like the perfect bet."
Guy 1: "Hey Guy 2, I'll bet you a hundred bucks that we sell a crapload (no pun intended) of these things!"
Guy 2: "Okay, but here's an extra challenge to make it interesting: You have to name it the Poo Trap! Ha!"
Guy 1: "You're on, sucka'!!"

I'm sorry, but if you are seriously too lazy to clean up the ca-ca after your dog lays the cable, then maybe you should reconsider taking care of another living thing in the first place. Two reasonable exceptions I can see: 1. You are physically disabled or otherwise injured and are unable to reach the poo 2. You are elderly and afraid that bending down to pick up poo would be a falling risk. Okay, if you're in one of those situations, you get a pass. The Poo Trap is probably right for you. But the rest of you? You have no excuse! And let's not even delve into the embarrassment you are sure to cause your poor little pooch if you make him/her wear a plastic bag over his/her ass. Seriously. They say that dogs don't have the power of reason, but I don't buy into that. I see the look in my mom's dog's eyes when he has to do his business in front of all of us - that is pure doggy humiliation.

Come on people, dogs already can't help it that they have to hump things (legs, trees, other dogs, stuffed toys) every now and then. Can we really not let them keep one tiny shred of canine dignity?

Please tell me this is a joke.

Girl Gone Mild

Last night, I had dinner with a new friend whom I just met this week. We'll call her Amber. She's 18 years old, a freshman in college, and is in a sorority. She's also gorgeous, friendly, and has a cheerful voice; definitely not the kind of girl who would have been friends with me (a dorky band-nerd who was - let's face it - kind of aggressive) in high school.

It would be all too easy to make the honest mistake of prematurely writing Amber off as a naive, superficial, dim-witted former cheerleader with nothing but boys, parties, and fashion filling her spoiled little head. But that's exactly what you would be doing - making a huge mistake.

As Amber and I sat and talked over salads and pizza that later made me regret having a stomach, I stood pleasantly corrected about the unfortunate stereotype with which I had previously, ignorantly associated her. It wasn't that I assumed she was an idiot or anything, I was just... prepared for her to be. (Sidebar: Let's be honest. Aren't most 18-year-olds know-it-all morons? I definitely was.) But Amber is no idiot. Articulate, intelligent, and with uncharacteristically-low-for-a-teenager use of the word "like," she told me about her family, her friends, her sorority, and her plans for the future - all with the calm self-assuredness of someone who has her act together.

I found myself excessively impressed with this girl and her well-adjusted, down-to-earth theories about sororities ("It's doesn't make me who I am, I am my own person and I don't have to share their opinions"), parties ("I'm not a big drinker; I don't like to lose control of myself and act like an idiot"), and sense of self ("I don't like to conform to what the group does; I know what's right and wrong and I don't just go along with things"). Yes, Amber is pretty in the way people with perfectly symmetrical faces tend to be, but without those pesky senses of entitlement and superiority that usually accompany great beauty. And yes, she's very friendly, but every word is genuine and sincere. She carries herself with self-respect and humility, and denounces most of the risky and self-destructive behaviors that this generation seems to find acceptable (i.e., drinking too much and dancing naked on a table, dumbing oneself down to attract men, and taking one's clothes off for Girls Gone Wild cameras - all of which are somehow justified as "the New Feminism" or "just knowing how to have fun," but are really huge, unappreciative steps backward for womankind).

I know many very respectable, accomplished, brilliant women, who make me proud of my gender and embody the reasons why women have made such great strides in the last 100 or so years. It's not that these women are hard to find, they are just hard to find at 18 years old - an age characterized by confusion, the need to belong, conformity, and constant search for one's identity, values, and true self. Basically, Amber is exactly how I wish I had been at her age. This girl has a clue.

The experience of getting to know this new friend can really be summed up in one word: Refreshing.