The Text Bubble Intervention

Every now and then I need to stage an intervention in an effort to preserve a friendship.

It's not something I like doing, but if i feel it's necessary I'll use every ounce of assertiveness I can muster and present the problem in a loving and constructive way. I'll state the problem, provide reasons why it's an issue, and list a series of solutions.

Being really funny and incredibly good looking, I have a lot of friends, and thus a great deal of experience in staging these loving interventions. It's just what I do, being a great person and all.

Here are just some of crises I've had to help friends address over the years:

- Brown and black do not match, ever, and should not be worn together unless it's laundry day
- The reason you're not getting dates is because acid wash jeans went out with teasing one's bangs up (which you're still doing, so please stop)
- If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, looks like a duck, he's obviously screwing his secretary
- The fact that your toddler is calling everyone 'stupid' is a clear sign of your inability to parent effectively

No. Forget the last one. That's the intervention I'm expecting to get any day now.

The most recent intervention took place about three days ago, when I confronted none other than Pixie.

Now, some of you may be asking yourselves why I keep mentioning Pixie more often than other friends. It could be that I spend a great deal of time with her. It could be that she's just incredibly funny and gives me a lot of material. It could be that she gets a real kick out of being mentioned on my blog and that it's likely about as close to being a celebrity as she'll get in her lifetime.

But, the truth is, I'm madly in love and have plans to leave my husband so that she and I may escape to somewhere warm and build a new life together. All of these blog posts are my subconscious way of wooing her; of making her feel special enough to want to drop her entire life for me.

Actually, none of that is true (except, perhaps, wanting to live somewhere warm), but starting internet rumours can be a huge career booster. Don't Brangelina command more attention and money because their relationship began as an affair? Doesn't Tom Cruise still get cast in roles because he jumped a couch on Oprah?

Well, this is me, couch jumping an affair. Now somebody pay up.

But I digress...

Pixie and I used to send each other a lot of texts on our spiffy new phones. Lately, however, it seems like I've been doing most of the texting. One morning I informed her (via a text message, of course) that I was developing a complex. With that, she decided to give me a call:

"What's up, precious?" asked Pixie, completely unaware of the serious situation awaiting her. Incidentally, she calls everyone 'precious', so don't read into that too much. Other pet names for people involve 'baby', 'sweetheart' and 'darling'. She calls one of her sons 'Milkybug', although I'm grateful to not have shared that particular nickname.

"Baby," I said, because I'm now in the habit of using her pet names on her, "I need to talk to you about your serious lack of texting."

There was a slight pause before she asked "My serious... What?"

"Lack of texting. It's become a bit of a problem recently, Shnookums."

"I'm not quite sure I know what..."

"Pix, do you know how texting works? Generally, when you text someone asking a question or saying something funny, they reply or at least acknowledge receipt of your text. It's, as I like to call it, 'textiquette'. And sweetheart, you've been slacking on the textiquette."

"... But, but... My mom is visiting. I can't text when my mom is visiting. And before that I was on vacation, remember?" defended Pixie.

"Do you know how iPhone texting works? See, there are these coloured chat bubbles. In this case, green bubbles and grey bubbles. When I text you it shows up as a green bubble. When you text me it shows as grey. (I will now provide a handy dandy visual for my iPhone-less readers, courtesy of this website:)


"Pixie, in the last few weeks I've noticed a slow decline of grey bubbles in our conversation. So much, in fact, that there is now nearly a 4:1 ratio of green to grey. Do you know what this means?"

"That I've been busy? Or that you need a hobby?" retorted Pixie. Denial is so thick and so angry, isn't it?

"No. It means that you've been a bad friend. I'd like to think I have acceptable standards for friendship, and I fear you've crossed the line. If you're going to enter into a texting relationship with me you need to respect the rules of that relationship. Pixie, I'm afraid that if you don't get help for whatever is creating this lack of response, I may have to dump you as a text friend altogether and just see you at the park." I was firm, yet loving. It's a gift.

"You wouldn't!" she challenged. This is often how addicts behave, so it doesn't surprise me that slackers would do the same.

I took a deep breath. "Milkybug, it's time for change. Will you make that change with me?"

The anger left her and she melted into a puddle of acceptance. It was beautiful. I'm pleased to report that she's been practicing excellent textiquette for the last three days by doing it one day at a time. It's beautiful and I'm proud of her. It's also a relief, because interviewing for a Pixie replacement would take up a lot of my summer and I honestly don't have time for that.

Interventions are an important part of friendship. Be kind, and help those around you see it your way.

The Continuing Adventures of The Maven and Pixfish


I've moved up the running ranks enough to have a partner; someone I run with more often than not and who keeps telling me I'm doing a great job even though I'm well aware of my obvious sucktitude. Her name is Daring D, and, on top of giving me a run for my money (that was a pretty awesome pun, if I do say so myself) she owns a Wii Fit. I had no idea how cool they are, and now I want one. Considering I just took out a mortgage on new shoes (think the second most expensive ones at a specialty running store - ack!) and an iPhone, I don't think I'll be getting the Wii Fit any time soon, so I'll just have to keep mooching hers.

I have a foot injury, by the way. Nat, From Nat's Brain , helped me diagnose it. It's this one, and it sucks. I'm almost pain-free at this point and am looking forward to running again, but it's been four days and I'm positively jonesing. I can get addicted to anything if I really put my mind to it. I also should admit that I'm secretly proud of my injury, as if I'm somehow more badass for having one: "Oh, the limping? It's nothing. Just a foot injury from running. Did I mention I'm a runner? You know: one of those people who runs? Want to see my new shoes?"

It's been fairly busy this week. Pixfish and I have been all over the place. Naturally, I documented a few of our outings. It's been nice getting to know my new best friend. I learn stuff about her every day. Observe:


We went for a late night run with Daring D a few nights ago. She wore her headlamp for added visibility. PF is a safety girl.


Pixfish wants me to get a Wii Fit. She wants me to, can't you see? Geekster, do you not understand how important this is to her? I think we need to seriously consider getting one in order to preserve my special friendship.

Also, I believe she might be a bit of a kleptomaniac. That's my running partner's shoe...


I think my BFF might have a little problem with coffee. Every time I see her the girl is guzzling down some java. When you're drinking out of a cup you could likely drown in, it might be intervention time.

When I brought this up to Pixfish, she rolled her eyes and told me she's a pixie/mermaid, therefore she can't drown. Duh.

(She's clearly in denial. I'll keep working with her.)


See? See? There she is with a latte again! She's apparently found a new dealer in Jess, my single mama friend who's new abode the gremlins and I defiled sullied tainted visited last Thursday. After speaking with Pixfish, Jess informed me that the reason she has both a tail and wings is so she can hang out with the swimmers and flyers.

"Jess, Jess, Jess," I explained calmly. "If Pixfish were bi-mythical, do you not think she would have told me? We have a relationship built on trust and acceptance; surely she would feel comfortable sharing her life choices with me. Now please stop pretending you know her. You were with her for two or three hours. I've known her for seven days. That's, like, a lifetime of getting to know someone."

How very wrong I was. Because, after taking a few more pictures, I realized there are some things she has been keeping from me.



How did I never pick up on this before?

Judging from these photos, she's clearly a swinger.

And just when you think you really know someone...

Near Insanity + Abandonment Issues = This Post

I haven't been able to finish a blog post in over a week. Creativity has taken a backseat this week so that big, ugly Chaos can ride shotgun. Children screaming. Children fighting. Children messing up my home. Children being, well, children. Ick. Could they at least try and act mature? Chaos has been pointing its finger and laughing as I drive down the road of life. It didn't even open my coffee for me, which is the sign of a very poor co-pilot. As soon as I find a truck stop I'm going to send it in for chocolate bars and take off. Take that, asshat!

In the meantime, I'm stuck with very limited time to write about all the goings on in the life of Maven. A pity, really, since there are at least two or three people who want to hear about what's going through this brain of mine. The long and short: it's hovering near the breaking point and will soon be festering with insanity. This part of '09 will forever be remembered as The Summer That Never Ends. The Gremlins will throw a yearly street party.

I have so much to say, but no time to say it. How is that fair? Do you have any idea how much I want to tell you how I pretty much lost my shit on Gutsy on Sunday? You bet you do. So that'll be tomorrow's post, provided I can get around to writing. My shipment of kiddy sedatives hasn't arrived yet - and to think the seller promised quick shipping. Hmph.

To make matters worse, Pixie, my friend, my glue, calmer of my would-be temper tantrums, is away visiting family for the next week. She leaves in the morning.

Meh. Not that I care or anything. I mean, who needs her around, anyway? I'll be way too busy having a great time in my great life. I mean, she's the one who will be missing out on basking in my presence. She's the one who will be wishing I were around to make her days a little brighter. She's the one who will...

... Is this at all believable? Didn't think so. I'll quit while I'm ahead.

But I'm a survivor. I keep on truckin' because I find new and interesting ways to make my life work. And, in times like these, desperate and slightly unconventional methods must be applied. I need Pixie around to vent to, and she's abandoning me. Leaving me for that sister of hers, as if blood is thicker than water or something.

Well, screw you, Pix. I don't need you! Because, after a quick run the dollar store for swords and dart guns, I stumbled upon your replacement:

Introducing my new best friend of the week, Pixfish!


The top of her box says 'Play with Me', so you know she knows how to have a good time. With a few beers in her she'll be telling stories in no time! Not like boring ol' Pixie.

Pixfish is even better than a pixie: she has wings and a tail. Why? I have no bloody clue, actually. I don't understand how wings would be at all useful in the water. But the fact that she's two girly characters in one makes me incredibly happy. Her tail is even sparkly, see?


Isn't she fantastic? Her starfish-shaped tail even has glitters on it. Glitters! We're going to be very good friends, Pixfish and I...

...Um, except her hair's a little long. Pixie has shorter hair. Not that I'm trying to make her look like that girl. It's just that I'm supposed to have the long hair in this relationship. The problem with dollar store dolls is that they have all these bald spots, so you can't exactly chop it all off. But no matter. I took these pictures at my neighbour's house, and Gokalie has a girl child with elastics. Therefore...


Perfect. And she likes fruit? What a wonderful coincidence. I like fruit, too! Now we can definitely be friends!

I do like the bad girls, though. Being as close to saintly as I am, the rebellious chicks keep my life interesting. If all Pixfish likes is healthy stuff I'm going to have to dump her limp body in a Salvation Army dumpster. Maven needs a little spice in her friends.

Oh, what's that, Pixfish? You and I have similar tastes? How so?


... Coffee?!


... And... Saturated fat? Oh, Pixfish! You're the sister I wouldn't want because you're too damn perfect!

Pixfish and I will be doing a lot of great things this week while that has-been Pixie is out of town. Maybe when the ex-entourage member comes back from her visiting all those important people we can talk about her return to the group.

Or maybe I'll just be too far gone down the insanity slope to form any words. A likely conclusion to what will be an interesting week in the Summer That Never Ends.