TIM GUNN'S VOICE

TIM GUNN TALKS ME THROUGH A STYLISH QUANTUM JUMP

2011-05-05T14:42:00.000-07:00

TIM: Deborah, are you going out in that?

ME: No, I was hoping to quantum-jump into a parallel universe where I would be queen of Cixten, planet of wise women and fashion gurus. It doesn't require going "out" anywhere, as much as going "over".

TIM: Then I'm assuming quantum-jumping doesn't need your shoes to match.

ME: Wha? Oh, I dressed in the dark.

TIM: Then my work here is done. Tell the women of Cixten I said "hello" and to hit me up on the return trip. Keep that editing eye open, and for goodness sake, turn the light on, Deborah. Holla!

ME: Holla.

TIM GUNN TALKS ME THROUGH HOMESICKNESS

2011-03-18T20:29:00.000-07:00

ME: I see how it is.

TIM: Good. Then I suppose my work here is done.

ME: That is not what I meant by that statement.

TIM: So, saying that you understand something does NOT imply that you understand it?

ME: I was being sarcastic. I think you understand that more than anyone...Duh.

TIM: "Duh"? I know. I'll leave and when I come back, I'll speak with the grown-up Deborah. Okay?

ME: *breathes deeply* You're going to be in my hometown on April 2nd. I won't be there.

TIM: Deborah, I'm touring. I'm in thousands of peoples' hometowns. Virtually every day of every week during this touring business. What would you have me do?

ME: Well, if I had my druthers, I'd...

TIM: You'd learn correct grammar and be less selfish?

ME: I thought you knew me better?

TIM: A boy can dream, continue.

ME: If I had MY way, we would go there together and visit my mother and niece and sister and children and we would film it and I would take you into my sister's closet and see her jewelry and clothes and you could fix me.

TIM: Deborah, while I would adore seeing your sister's fabulous collection of art that she refers to as jewelry, as well as your mother's killer bling, "holla at cha, Wendy", I really can't "fix you". We all know that. If you, or anyone else, was actually "fixable", someone would be making zillions of dollars.

ME: I just want to be in my hometown with you.

TIM: You just want to be in your hometown.

ME: I just want to be in my home...are you hypnotizing me?

TIM: No, I like a challenge. You're just homesick and you saw me going to your town so I popped into your head for a visit and now you're just connecting us. That's all.

ME: Really? Am I that simple?

TIM: I wouldn't call you simple. I don't think it's politically correct anymore.

ME: Have fun in Columbus, Tim. Try to visit German Village, specifically Katz's Deli. Not that I'm prejudiced.

TIM: I'll mention your name.

ME: It won't help, we're not related.

TIM: I was kidding anyway.

ME: *rolling eyes*

TIM GUNN TALKS ME THROUGH MOVING DAY

2011-02-25T13:10:00.000-08:00

ME: I see old people.

TIM: Are you in a house of mirrors?

ME: That just keeps getting funnier and funnier.

TIM: What's the drama du jour?

ME: I'm moving and my neighbors are so old!

TIM: What did you expect? Your community is a 55 and over neighborhood. It's "gated" for crying out loud. You're surrounded by lovely, mature people.

ME: I'm not lovely or mature.

TIM: Hey! Isn't it nice when we agree?

ME: I'm serious. How will this work? Some of these people are on oxygen and I still play air guitar. I'm having a confidence crisis.

TIM: What are your biggest concerns and for whom?

ME: Ugh. I know this trick. This is where you ask a question and I go deep under my psychological, subconscious blankets to shine a light and seek out the underlying causes of my anxiety, right?

TIM: If the metaphor fits.

ME: I don't blend.

TIM: Have you ever?

ME: I'm not retired.

TIM: Is that the law there?

ME: I don't garden or knit or dress my dogs in coats.

TIM: Deborah, did you actually see dogs dressed in anything?

ME: No.

TIM: Are you afraid of the day that you will blend?

ME: ...

TIM: It won't happen.

ME: How do you know that?

TIM: Seriously, Deborah? You're talking to an imaginary fashion guru in your head. By the time you blend, you'll be the happiest person on the planet.

ME: Promise?

TIM: Oh yes. Just promise me that you'll dress accordingly.

ME: What will that look like.

TIM: I can't tell you what it WILL look like, but I can tell what it WON'T look like. No muu muus and no perms, other than that, we'll deal with it as it pops up.

ME: Cool. Bring it, geezers.

TIM GUNN TALKS ME THROUGH A WIG PURCHASE

2011-02-21T13:46:00.000-08:00

ME: I want a wig.

TIM: Are you planning a bank heist?

ME: I knew it! I knew you would never support me on this!

TIM: So...you're psychic and out of touch with reality...

ME: What's wrong with wig wearing? What can't I have a wig for when I'm having a bad hair day?

TIM: You can't afford a real human hair wig. You'll never wear it because you'd be too self-conscious. You live in a very hot, dry climate so your head will get too hot and boil your brains. You've been watching too much of Real Housewives of Atlanta...and that makes me so proud of you I just want to pop-and no, I'm being sarcastic. Shall I continue with my reasons?

ME: Yeesh. No!

TIM: What brought this on?

ME: Are you kidding me? Look at this stuff that is considered "hair". It's this stuff right here. It covers my scalp.

TIM: Ahhhh yes. The filament wire sprouting from your cranial pores. What color ARE you working on this week?

ME: Thanks. Thanks for confirming my reasons for getting a wig.

TIM: Please. There are plenty of people with hair far worse than yours.

ME: Name one.

TIM: George Rickles.

ME: He's bald.

TIM: You asked.

ME: Give me another.

TIM: Donald Trump.

ME: I could totally do that with my hair in another couple of weeks. You realize that don't you?

TIM: No need to go follicularly postal. Fine...here's the rant you're seeking. It's hair. It's not YOU. You're underneath it all. It's clean. It's trimmed You've actually received compliments on it. Sure, sometimes you pin it back like some kind of 12 year-old tomboy, but typically it's appropriate when the occasion calls for it. Sometimes I even sense some pride in yourself. Don't get all huffy on me. You're learning to edit...though heaven knows you could use some help in that department. If you're adventurous for change, let it grow, which you know you will, until it makes you crazy and then you will rationalize cutting in back into the neat little cut that you love so much. Who are we kidding with this discussion. Purchase the wig, pull it out for Halloween parties, and I promise to never say, "I told you so".

ME: I hate you for making me love you.

TIM: That wasn't weird at all.

TIM GUNN TALKS ME THROUGH A BAD PAPER

2011-02-14T18:33:00.001-08:00

TIM: You know, to some you would appear smug, but I know better.

ME: Word.

TIM: Oh! Street cred! Holla!

ME: Stop knowing me so well! Let me have a weird AND bad day.

TIM: I live for your weird, bad days.

ME: I have a 25 page paper due in 5 days and I'm creatively constipated.

TIM: So, you have an alliterative problem.

ME: Oh my word, I can't come up with anything. I wrote a proposal and not only did the topic get shot down, but I didnt' get the full number of points. I threw an academic tantrum, I complained, I beat my fists against the ivy-covered walls...

TIM: You mean the "virtual" ivy-covered walls, right? And the truth is, the proposal you submitted was the wrong one, right? You didn't follow through and edit for mistakes. It's the same as one of our designers sending down an outfit from a prior week's challenge. It was from an entirely different class from an entirely different quarter! What were you thinking?

ME: I KNOW!!! The names of the documents were virtually identical. The only difference was this "_"...that little under line mark. Puhleese!!! What the heck???

TIM: Deborah, you saved those documents yourself. That was YOUR doing, no one else's.

ME: Hey! Who's side are you on?

TIM: Seriously? Would we even be having this or any other conversation if I EVER agreed with you about anything? Our entire relationship is based on me giving you snarky, yet wise and pithy feedback about your pathetic existence, or attempt at one.

ME: I know...

TIM: Did you apologize to the professor?

ME: I practically groveled.

TIM: No really, did you say you were sorry?

ME: I'm serious. I not only asked for forgiveness, I admitted that it was my mistake and then I said that we were both wise and acted in our own best consciousness. I even said, "Go, us."

TIM: *chuckling and shaking head* Oh well then....as long as you patted yourself on the back while you said you were sorry, by all means, she should certainly rethink the entire thing and give you an "A"....PLUS even!

ME: Did I do that?

TIM: "Go, us?" No...you were very humble...I could see your vertebrae as you bent over in humility.

ME: I sense sarcasm.

TIM: Are YOU being sarcastic?

ME: What is this...some kind of weird rabbit hole of snarkiness?

TIM: Look, you apologized. Good. You saved your ego, not so good. When you make a mistake, own it. It doesn't make you a smaller person for admitting when you went wrong and then fixing it. You'll be more careful in the future. If the professor can sense that from you, then you'll be fine. If she has an ego problem, which she might, there's little to anything you can do about it and in the future, when you're teaching, you'll know to be more sensitive. Look for the good in any trial you face-it's always there. Now stop me before I swoon over myself.

ME: I've got it. Yeesh. I'll just plow forward. I guess that was a poor choice of words. Have you noticed the extra pounds I've put on?

TIM: Oh dear, that's another post entirely.

ME: Wait, don't go! Come back here and talk to me!!!

TIM: Another day dear....get rid of the cheesecake....

ME: I wasn't eating any....

TIM: I was addressing your thighs.

TIM TALKS TO ME ABOUT MY NEW JEWELRY

2010-08-02T13:11:00.000-07:00

ME: "Crack smoking judges"....HAHAHAHAHAH

TIM: Are you finished? Had enough?

ME: Sorry, Tim. It's just not that often I get to have a laugh because of something YOU'VE said.

TIM: Well...I explained it and I don't exactly apologize for it and by the way, a smoking crack pipe would account for most of the clothes in your closet so let's not travel down that road, agreed?

ME: Whatever...it's still funny.

TIM: So! You're back from Ohio. Is sunny California as you left it?

ME: Let's see. My daughter is due to pop at any time with her 3rd child and my house smells like a kennel.

TIM: So everything is about as expected.

ME: Pretty much.

TIM: I noticed you came home with quite a bit of jewelry. And it's big. And colorful.

ME: I know, right! I can barely type with this stuff on my fingers and wrist. I love it!

TIM: Where do you plan on wearing it?

ME: EVERYWHERE!

TIM: Edit, Deborah

ME: I thought this type of jewelry went from casual to after 5:00. That was my thought process.

TIM: YOUR thought process? The same thought process that allowed you to give birth four times in five years? Put your wedding ring on your "shopping list", next to "mop and broccoli" when you went to Walmart? That thought process?

ME: Well, when you put it that way...

TIM: Use your accessory wall thoughtfully. And by thoughtfully, I mean rarely, and not all at the same time. Those are big pieces. Okay...the bracelets you can double up on. But some of those rings-take it easy.

ME: Nice to be back Tim.

TIM: Put the pipe down...and it's nice to be heard.

TIM GUNN TALKS ME THROUGH MY STUPID MASTERS...

2010-05-26T11:59:00.000-07:00

ME: Hey! I'm on my way, you know.

TIM: It's me. You should just stop now.

ME: Well, I'm trying to generate enthusiasm. You know, I've completed the Master's portion and I'm officially in the doctoral program. IN IT TO WIN IT!!!!

TIM: Again. It's me. You should just stop now.

ME: Really. You're right. I don't even feel excited. It's just another day isn't it? No big deal. I don't know why I'm not more "up" about this. It's an accomplishment.

TIM: Deborah, you're never "up" about anything. It's just your nature. Why should it be different for this? When you're genuinely enthusiastic about something, it shows. If you don't feel enthusiasm, don't sweat it. Why are you even concerned?

ME: Well, I get congratulated and people ask me what my plans are and if I'm excited and I have no answers for them. I can't work yet...I have more schooling...It just seems like I'm more in the middle of my journey than at the end, or even at a mile stone.

TIM: So...what do you need me for?

ME: I don't know. Don't you have something pithy to add to the conversation? Maybe about how I should dress the part? Fake-it-till-I-make-it kind of thing?

TIM: Are you questioning the road you've chosen?

ME: ?

TIM: You semi-heard me. Are you? Are you wondering if you're taking the correct path? If you should stop now or continue with your current trajectory, or even change to a different track?

ME: Well, I'm always looking at other "things" and how I can use what I know in other applications. Does that count?

TIM: Do you have to find a job tomorrow?

ME: No. I have awhile.

TIM: What on your immediate agenda?

ME: Going to Ohio to see my mother, kids, the whole shebang.

TIM: Are they going to demand these kinds of answers from you regarding your future?

ME: Oh no. We're just going to hang, eat, and laugh.

TIM: Exactly. What don't you just take that brain of yours out of overdrive and relax for a few weeks. We can revisit all of this in the fall when school starts again. Stop "trying" to feel emotions that you're not feeling. That's called being "authentic". Not unlike that crazy color of nail polish I've been all over you about. And don't get me started on the synthetic leopard print in your closet. Repeat after me, "There are no synthetic leopards".

ME: See you in Ohio....

TIM GUNN TALKS ME THROUGH A RADICAL HAIR CUT.

2010-05-22T22:45:00.001-07:00

TIM: Nice.

ME: You likey?

TIM: Well, it's certainly bold. It could get costumey, but I'm really not getting that vibe right now.

ME: Oh good! It was kind of spur of the moment?

TIM: Really, Deborah? You obsess over your hair continually. You're constantly dragging your fingers through it and cursing it. Do you ever really do anything "spur of the moment" to your hair?

ME: Well, apparently not.

TIM: It's a good cut. It's quite different. A little "Adam Lambert-ish", but in a good way. It works with the shape of your face. It redirects attention toward your eyes and away from your lower face.

ME: Wait. What's wrong with my lower face?

TIM: It's getting lower.

ME: Wow. How long have you been sitting on THAT one?

TIM: I'm a patient person.

ME: This really might be my best opportunity to let my silver and white grow in...you know, because it's so short.

TIM: Really! Because that worked so well for you before?

ME: I'll be in Ohio for most of the summer so my influences will be different. I'll be home. I can be myself. I can deconstruct and reconstruct!

TIM: Do you believe for one moment that your mother will sit by and watch while you age in front of her?

ME: Oh.

TIM: Buy your color there. It'll be cheaper.

ME: Got it.

TIM GUNN TALKS ME THROUGH THE 1ST ANNIVERSARY OF THE KIDS' DAD'S DEATH

2010-05-05T14:22:00.001-07:00

TIM: I know, it's been an entire year.

ME: What gave it away?

TIM: All of your Facebook statuses and blog reports saying that "It's been a year". You'll never be accused of being subtle.

ME: That's a long time, but it seems like it just happened.

TIM: Well, a lot HAS happened, don't you think? *chin down, eyebrows up*

ME: Oh yea....one daughter miraculously survived a hideous car accident because an 18-year-old fool was texting...

TIM: That was awful, just awful. She looks amazing, by the way.

ME: I KNOW! Broken neck, broken ribs, dozens of staples in her head...and then to find out she was pregnant at the time of the accident...yeesh...

TIM: Exactly. And I mean, SHE LOOKS AMAZING, I'm still waiting for YOUR excuse.

ME: I am SO not going there with you right now...

TIM: Fine. The other kids had big challenges this year as well, am I right?

ME: Oh yea! Our youngest son lost his job on the day he was supposed to sign for his first house. THAT was crazy. Then he rebounds, gets a job, loses that, gets ANOTHER job, finds a killer deal on a house and moves his adorable little wife and twins into it. Through it all, they never lost their faith, continued to pay their tithes, go to church, the whole nine yards. They're troopers.

TIM: Yes. And his wife is a stunner. She never threw in the towel. Kept that great All-American look of hers up.

ME: Oh yea. That's just the kind of person she is. Pretty inside, pretty outside. And then our older son had all kinds of health challenges. True, he makes odd choices, but even HE seems to be on board with the whole moving forward thing. He is more deeply in love with his wife...

TIM: Well who WOULDN'T be?

ME: Oh, I know! They are perfection together. And he's no walk in the park.

TIM: Well, the fruit doesn't fall far from the tree.

ME: ?

TIM: And you have another daughter. She's doing well?

ME: Yes. She may have made the biggest strides of all. She's at a healthy weight. She's in charge of her thoughts and reactions. She's making beautiful progress in good-decision-making.

TIM: And how are you?

ME: I'm going to be fine. I didn't think I could parent this group alone, but I don't believe I am alone. I feel that their dad is an even better parent now and in fact, more present in their lives than he was before he died. Our parenting partnership is more improved. I know there have been far fewer arguments since he died.

TIM: Only because you got the last word....

ME: Well! That's what he gets for going first.

TIM: Well played.

TIM GUNN TALKS ME THROUGH HAIR COLOR

2010-04-28T19:38:00.000-07:00

TIM: Oh! For crying out loud, why are you sitting in the dark?

ME: I'm too lazy to get up.

TIM: You're lazy, true. But you know you have to turn the light on eventually. Are you hiding? Oh no. Did you color your hair yourself? Deborah...

ME: I couldn't do the gray thing. I said I would go completely gray and white, but I didn't do it.

TIM: Okay. Would you like to talk about it?

ME: Tim, if you're showing up, then apparently I need to work on it, right?

TIM: Well said. Here *flips on light* let's have a look. *scrunches up face* That's not TOO bad.

ME: Oh my gosh. I said that when my kids baked their first cake. They were 2 and 3.

TIM: I think "pastry" would be a good description of your hair right now.

ME: Tim...

TIM: I'm thinking, white cake, white icing, with some white piping along the edges. It would be almost elegant if it wasn't on you. You know, a "signature style". Are you ready to pull that off?

ME: Don't make me smile.

TIM: I was serious about the pastry. And now I'm hungry.

ME: I had every intention of growing out my hair. It was kind of gun metal gray, with some groovy white streaks and some lighter gray.

TIM: Oh! I know! I saw it.

ME: Yea, I suppose you did.

TIM: So then, why did you back down? You were very determined.

ME: I was at my daughter's house and she really appeared to be having a difficult time with it. I mean, the poor thing is pregnant, she recently broke her neck and her back, she has these kids, you know....a lot of stress.

TIM: So, your daughter made you do it?

ME: Well, not when you put it like that.

TIM: How would you put it?

ME: I would say it like this, "My daughter made me do it."

TIM: Uh huh.

ME: Ummmm...yea.... That doesn't make a lot of sense does it? I mean, when I say it like that. It sounds weak and it sounds like I'm shifting accountability for my decision to someone else. Ick. Self-realization and truth give me a headache.

TIM: Wow. Keep this up and one day someone will blog about Deborah Katz's Voice. Wait. Probably not.

ME: Hey. I can be wise.

TIM: Maybe someday...when you're old and gray.

ME: Nice....

TIM: Let's bake a cake!

TIM LETS ME KNOW WHO IS "IN"

2009-12-23T13:22:00.000-08:00

TIM: Hmmmmm. The suitcase is out. Where are you going?

ME: Ohio!

TIM: Again? When are you leaving?

ME: On Christmas afternoon.

TIM: My. Why so sentimental?

ME: I know, right? Smack dab in the middle of the day. I wonder if it will be crowded at the airport?

TIM: I wonder if you considered your husband's day in any of this?

ME: Tim, he said to buy the ticket because it was so inexpensive. I have to go to Ohio for my mom's 90th birthday. You know that.

TIM: Well. Use the accessory wall thoughtfully. And I don't mean yours, I mean your mothers'. You know how tastefully she accessorizes. Just listen to her when you dress for her party.

ME: You know, Tim, Mother isn't exactly hitting on all cylinders these days.

TIM: And?

ME: Do you still trust her to dress me? Or even accessorize me?

TIM: Let me put it this way, Deborah. Are you sitting down? Even in your fifth decade, with your education and demeanor, I would prefer you to be accessorized by your 90-year-old, slightly senile, fragile mother whose sense of fashion clearly out-ranks yours and, in fact, whose 90-year-old bones are even thicker and stronger than yours. She is clearly "in".

ME: *quietly* I can take her in a race.

TIM: Of course you can, Deborah. Of course.

TIM GUNN TALKS ME THROUGH "RAIN WEAR".

2009-12-07T21:03:00.000-08:00

TIM: I saw everything.

ME: It was raining.

TIM: As if that is anywhere close to a legitimate excuse.

ME: I didn't want to get wet.

TIM: There's a handy appliance called an "umbrella"...cheap and effective, not unlike that gaudy nail polish you're fond of.

ME: Look, it rains so seldom here and our sidewalk goes downhill and gets very slippery. It's extraordinarily treacherous. Truly dangerous. And I had to walk the dog!

TIM: Don't you have an 18-year-old that can do that FOR you? Someone who can dress as a clown...as proxy?

ME: OH MY GOSH, TIM, it wasn't that bad!

TIM: Sure it was.

ME: They're my boots. They may be multicolored, but...

TIM: They're striped. That's different than "multicolored". Striped.

ME: And they might be a little high...

TIM: They go to your knees.

ME: But they're waterproof...

TIM: Because they're rubber. You're wearing stripped, knee-high rubber boots. Were you booked for some birthday party or something? You forgot your red rubber nose.

ME: Oh my gosh. All I cared about today was staying warm and dry. The boots worked. Wonderfully, I might add. And the coat? It was an old, hooded, army-type jacked that was perhaps a bit bulky, but did the trick.

TIM: Ahhhh yes, the trick. Was the trick making balloon animals?

ME: That's it. This conversation is over.

TIM: Why? Have the ponies arrived or is the cake being cut?

ME: Oh my gosh. I did not look like a clown!!!

TIM: No, you looked like a clown's assassin. The army coat? With those gaily colored rubber boots? Did children run from you? Did puppies yip? Were you followed by the police?

ME: I see how it is. Project Runway's season is over and you have no one to pick on, it that it?

TIM: No. You just give me so much to work with. Lose the coat. Better to catch pneumonia than be considered a suspect on the grassy knoll. Keep the boots. Take off that polish. Use an umbrella so you don't have that hunched over appearance. Make it work.

ME: Thank goodness I live in southern California. I couldn't take living somewhere where there's "real" weather. We'd kill each other.

TIM: Lord knows you're dressed for it.

TIM TALKS ME THROUGH MY FIRST PAIR OF JEANS IN (POSSIBLY) YEARS.

2009-11-12T14:02:00.001-08:00

TIM: What's that humming sound?

ME: Me. I'm humming.

TIM: Oh! I thought it was an appliance gone awry.

ME: Thanks. I'm fine. Yourself?

TIM: What are you so relatively content about? That's when you typically hum.

ME: Relatively content? What happened to "happy"? A girl can't be "happy" anymore?

TIM: It's charming that you still refer to yourself as a "girl". And the answer to your question, as far as you personally, is "not so much". You, Deborah, are a "relative"-type of person. You continually weigh balances, ponder circumstances, look at various sides of the issues. So, what may be "happy" to one person is "relatively content" on you. So. Spill. What are you relatively content about.

ME: Fine. Look at my legs.

TIM: OH! They're covered in denim!

ME: Bingo. New pair of jeans, buddy. I broke down and bought them.

TIM: No no no Deborah. You couldn't have done this on your own. Someone helped you. Those jeans fit.

ME: Hey!

TIM: What I mean is, you've never been able to purchase a pair of jeans that actually fit your body. You don't exactly have jean-friendly curves. So...what's the rest of the story. And remember, if you're not forthcoming, I'll know it....

ME: Fine! I was shopping for leggings.

TIM: Oh Deborah. Haven't we had this conversation before. Puhleese. Edit edit edit.

ME: I need something warm to cover my legs when I go to Ohio. It's cold there.

TIM: You're whining. Continue.

ME: Anyway, the manager of the store...

TIM: A woman's store?

ME: Charlotte Russe.

TIM: Oh, thank goodness....I thought you went to Epidemic or something.

ME: Nice.

TIM: Go on.

ME: Anyway, the manager asked if she could get me some jeans. I explained my difficulty in sizing them to me and she accepted it as a challenge. She reminded me of my niece, Tiffany, so I had an immediate comfort level with her. She took me to the jeans section and explained all the different styles and things. She said, "just go to the dressing room and I'll bring some back". I agreed and this is what we came up with. You likey?

TIM: They're fine. Nothing can fix that gluteus minimus, but you've worked around it. Are they comfortable?

ME: Well, they're cut a little low so when I sit down they dip a little lower in the back than I would like. I think girls wear thongs with these things. And at the end of the day, sometimes I can slip them off without unbuttoning them.

TIM: Maybe because they're designed for young girls who haven't given birth yet and are waiting to be asked on their first date.

ME: Hey, I was just excited to find jeans that fit me. Hence, my humming but I think that's over for now.

TIM: *sigh* Fine. Next time bring a more critical eye to your purchase and wear a long, layering tee with these. Turn around. hmmmmm. Did you get a pair that you can dress up a bit? Maybe wear with some heels?

ME: Yes. Yes I did.

TIM: Okay. Use the accessory wall thoughtfully.

ME: Tim. I don't have an accessory wall.

TIM: You will. You'll be in Ohio. Don't get me started on your sister's and mother's eye for fashion. I can't wait!

ME: Which means I'll be hearing from you more in the near future?

TIM: Are you kidding. I wouldn't miss this trip for the world!

ME: Lucky me!

TIM: The drama alone is going to be the entertainment factor. The fashion and artistry is just the bonus! Pack those jeans, we'll take care of the rest of you when you get to the Midwest. Holla!

ME: Holla Tim.

TIM GUNN TALKS ME THROUGH LETTING MY SILVER HAIR SHINE!!!

2009-10-29T19:31:00.000-07:00

TIM: Talk to me.

ME: It's just a haircut, Tim.

TIM: Well! I should think it's more than "just a haircut". You don't "just" do anything regarding your looks. Something as huge as this involves hours of pondering. Nothing is "just" anything when it comes to your appearance. It's all part of some big psychological breakdown.

ME: Through, Tim. Break-THROUGH, not down.

TIM: No. I was right the first time. I'll stand by that. But talk to me.

ME: Okay. You're right. I've been doing some thinking.

TIM: Which explains me showing up.

ME: Oh yea...and hello, by the way.

TIM: Thank you.

ME: Well, you know my hair. It's so thin...so dreadfully and comically thin.

TIM: Deborah, there's nothing funny about your hair except the creative ways it attempts to escape from your scalp. I've found it in the most creative places.

ME: What???

TIM: Your hair is on the dog. That's usually reversed.

ME: Ewwwww.

TIM: It's in the lint catcher on the dryer and it's threatening all of us with a house fire. The gagging sounds you hear at night is the shower hacking up a fur ball in the shape of a "D" for desperately shedding Deborah. Did you really think your husband only had allergies at night? In bed? Next to you? Your hair flies up his nose as you toss and turn! He sneezes and coughs trying to avoid inhaling your head!

ME: OKAY! I've got it. You've painted the picture. The graphics are clear.

TIM: You don't even want to know what the neighbors below are saying when you sit on the balcony and there's a slight breeze. Don't you ever hear that choking sound?

ME: Tim!!! I have feelings!!!

TIM: Sorry. Carry on.

ME: Anyway....gosh!...it's thin and frankly, it's silver. AND white. Most of the white is around my face, which is kind of cool. And the silver hair is the exact same color and texture of my Dad's hair, which is also kind of cool. So, I decided to make a big leap and just let it go. I'm got my final weave to help let the silver grow out; it's almost an inch now, and I cut off the long, strangly parts. So! I'm going tribal.

TIM: Tribal?

ME: Yep! I'm going to let it get healthy and silver and embrace my older, wise woman.

TIM: This should be interesting.

ME: Meaning?...

TIM: Exactly that.

ME: So....what do I do now?

TIM: We wait...and do exactly what your is going to do....grow.

TIM GUNN TALKS ME THROUGH THE INEVITABLE LOSS OF MY PET

2009-10-22T14:21:00.000-07:00

TIM: I'm sorry Deborah.

ME: Thank you. It hurts.

TIM: He's old. You had him during his best years. You made each other very happy.

ME: I think so. It still hurts.

TIM: I can see that. What are your immediate plans?

ME: Well. It's difficult. He's still so very much "with" us. He smiles. He wags his tail. His hearing has improved. He barks at people that walk under our balcony to "protect" us. He does this adorable thing with his paw when I'm petting him. If I pull away too soon, he puts his paw on my arm so that I have to keep petting him. It's heart-breakingly sweet. And his eyes. That's the hardest thing. They're so soulful. They communicate everything. I think he knows he's on the way out. He knows how much he's loved. He knows we're constantly here for him. He's never ever alone. He sleeps on our beds with us. He's always in front of one of us. He watches me do the dishes, the laundry, and work on the computer. He watches Eli play the piano. We carry him downstairs to be outside. Peter sits with him on the balcony to get fresh air. I prepare his food twice a day. He gets fresh rice and turkey. I cook one or two eggs. I give him two baby aspirins a day and I put a Xanax in his food bowl twice a day as well.

TIM: So, his food has a street value?

ME: Basically, yea. I've made "the call" and found a place that will help us out when the time comes to take him in. I think that's going to be pretty soon. I'm comforted by the knowledge that he knows that we love him. He really knows it. We've been privileged to care for him and demonstrate to him our love. We've been blessed to be able to serve him. Really blessed. So...do you have anything to say?...any advice?...any words?...

TIM: This was a tough challenge. He's a masterpiece. He's ready for the runway.

TIM GUNN TALKS ME THROUGH MY RECENT MOVE.

2009-10-16T16:15:00.000-07:00

TIM: Designers? Gather round please.

ME: Tim? It's just me.

TIM: I realize that. I just wanted to make you feel like you were a part of something. Did it work?

ME: Not so much. But thanks for the effort.

TIM: Well...that's what I'm here for.

ME: What's the deal? Am I appearing extra needy? Extra lonely? Extra something?

TIM: Well Deborah, you're always a little "extra" something, but that something is seldom good. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you know better than anyone that if I'M showing up, the "needy factor" is extra high. So...talk to me...

ME: Oh...yea...well...let's see. Actually, things are pretty good. I moved, which you probably know, right? And my new town is really nice. I live close to my youngest daughter and that's nice.

TIM: Yes, I've looked through her closet. Listen to her when she talks about fashion. Please.

ME: Got it.

TIM: No really. I mean it. Really LISTEN to her.

ME: I got it Tim. I hear you.

TIM: And the hair thing...listen to her about your hair...all twelve of them...

ME: OKAY TIM!

TIM: Carry on.

ME: School's going okay. As always, there are papers to write, and research to conduct. *sigh* I'm trying to fit into my new ward at church, but there's so many people and it's tough to remember names. You know, just moving stuff...I guess that's it...

TIM: Edit.

ME: What?

TIM: Edit, Deborah. You have all of these "issues" on your table. Handle each one. Get a feel for each one. Does one seem more problematic than another? Your school work, has that really changed from quarter to quarter or does that seem consistent? Your church. Same consistency, but new faces? Is that the challenge there? What's the really good part? Your daughter's proximity, which was quite lacking in your last location? Am I right about that?

ME: Well, yea! All of those things. School is school, no matter where I live. Church is really the same, it's more just learning the people's names and faces, and that's really a matter of time and patience. Living closer to my daughter is a real bonus, so that's a good thing.

TIM: So....you can make this work, am I right? Hmmmm?

ME: Of course you're right. That's why you're here. Hey! Holla at cha girl!

TIM: Holla at your daughter's closet!

ME: Whatever.

TIM SAID, "CARRY ON, ONLY DON'T"

2009-03-18T14:27:00.001-07:00

TIM: You look.....interesting.

ME: I know, right?

TIM: What is that? What's that dialect? Why are you responding to me with a question?

ME: I know, right? *cough* What?

TIM: I just mentioned that you look "interesting". Obviously you're thinking of something and that means I show up. But then you turned into Jessica Simpson or something...

ME: Oh, yea. They've been showing commercials for that movie she did with Dane Cook and it stuck in my brain....

TIM: Shake it off. That's not good for anyone. And don't even think about a tank top with high-waisted jeans. You might be able to get away with the jeans but that belt, puhleese, edit edit edit.

ME: No Tim, this isn't a fashion crisis.

TIM: Deborah, you're always in a fashion crisis, you just don't want to face it. I'm a walking intervention practicing restraint. I'm earning all kinds of patience awards being with you! I am a veritable Mother Theresa of the fashion-impoverished when I walk through your closet.

ME: Why Tim? Why does it devolve to this when you and I start a conversation? I have much bigger issues.

TIM: Do you Deborah? Do you really?

ME: Wow.

TIM: Fine. We will once again turn away from the BIG PROBLEM and deal with your crisis du jour. Here. Let me get comfy and put on my interested countenance. There. Spill.

ME: Gee, I'm all warm and fuzzy now Tim.

TIM: Those are your legs Deborah. Shave. Just tell me your "issue".

ME: I don't feel the need to "act up" anymore.

TIM: uh huh....

ME: That's it.

TIM: Really. Define "act up".

ME: Well, if I'm in a crowd of people, well gosh, first off, I typically now avoid crowds of people. Isn't that weird? But unless I'm with people I know pretty well, intimately even, I just don't carry on like I used to. Is that a bad thing?

TIM: By "carry on" do you mean, like, put a lamp shade on your head? That type of thing?

ME: Well no! I've never done that?

TIM: Really? Should I ask around? Because who admits to that?

ME: *gulp*

TIM: Yea.

ME: That would be terrible! But no, I don't think I was ever THAT weird. Let's just move forward. I think that I just wish to BE entertained as opposed to BEING the entertainer. Does that make more sense? I mean, I enjoy being a part of a good, lively conversation and I love to laugh, and I love surrounding myself with funny, witty people, but I guess that's the thing. I love being SURROUNDED by them. It feels like I'm passing the torch, so to speak. I'm kind of done with the entertaining part.

TIM: And you think people are going to pick up on this? That there's going to be some kind of mass mourning?

ME: Well, no, not exactly. Especially not when you put it like that.

TIM: What about this...what if no one notices?

ME: ?

TIM: See all this pressure you're creating for yourself? What if it's all for naught? What if everyone has always been having a good time and you weren't responsible for any of it? What then? What if you were never ever expected to be the one to "carry the burden" of every one's good mood, hearty laugh, or "best night ever"? What if that piece was just your own personal fiction? You don't even read fiction that much...what would you compose it for your own life?

ME: I...I...I...

TIM: Well said. Let's try this. Go home, enjoy your family, and relax. Here's an interesting thought; when you're not in Ohio, they're still having fun. Laughter continues, giggles still erupt, and good times are had. You are NOT expected to carry on.

ME: I suppose not. That's a lot of unnecessary pressure to put myself under isn't it?

TIM: I know, right?

ME: Stop it.

TIM: Go home. Carry on, only don't.

TIM GUNN BACKS UP A HOT-TO-TROT MOMMA

2009-01-07T13:56:00.000-08:00

TIM: Nice face...

ME: Wow. It shows that much?

TIM: Yes. Unfortunately, I know you THAT well. You are pondering something and that means I step into the picture. What is going through that relatively cluttered and yet strangely vacant head of yours?

ME: My widowed, 89-year-old mother is interested in someone and I think he's interested in her also.

TIM: How old is the gentleman? It's a gentleman, right?

ME: Yea. He's 93.

TIM: All right. Your first concern?

ME: First? Tim, there are so many concerns, I don't know how to get them to line up in an orderly fashion to number them. They're like crazed, rabid cats on acid...Jackie Chan cats...

TIM: Some one's been reading Laurie Notaro...

ME: You betcha buddy...We Idiot Girls had better stick together. But anyway, there are WAY too many issues to figure out on this one.

TIM: Well, I can't help you if you aren't willing to organize your thoughts...all I have to work with are your thoughts, Ms. Braniac...

ME: What happened to "Carry on" and "Make it work"

TIM: You stopped watching television...

ME: Sorry. My bad. Okay, first, I'm totally weirded out by "date talk" coming out of my mother's mouth.

TIM: Okay. Next.

ME: She's confused. She likes the "idea" of dating but not the "mechanics" of dating. I think she is remembering being swept off her feet by my big, theatrical Dad and I don't think this situation is even remotely like that so I'm worried that my Mom is setting herself up for a big emotional disappointment kind of thing.

TIM: Well, thank goodness.

ME: What?

TIM: You redeemed yourself. For a minute, after that first concern, I almost walked. I thought it was all about YOU. YOU being "weirded out" by your mother allowing herself the indulgence of date-speak. She should be allowed to let that fly without any judgment. How many 89-year-old women get that opportunity? Rock that show, Mom!

ME: Point made, sir.

TIM: Yes. She could very well be setting herself up for a disappointment. She probably is. He's 93, for Heaven's sake. He's setting himself up also, truth be told. Your mother needs to have the risks laid out, quite clearly, before her. Write them down if you have to. Put it out there in black and white. There are problems with simply driving, interference/involvement with each of the children, either one of them may consider it "meddling" and to some extent it may feel that way. How do you juggle privacy and "I'm looking after you for your own good" and still make everyone feel adult? That would be tough, for BOTH of them. And then there is the very sensitive subject of death as the ultimate deal breaker...But they're both adults, they've both lost spouses and peers to death, they know these risks...

ME: Yea...there's that.

TIM: Deborah. That's the ultimate deal breaker for all of us, any day, any time. None of us have ANY guarantees. Not one. When was the last time you looked at your birth certificate?

ME: Yeesh, I don't know.

TIM: Well, I can guarantee you it did not come with an expiration date. We all have the inalienable right to happiness and your mother wants one last shot at that fluttery joy that comes with new romance. Are you going to take that from her? I don't think so. And as for disappointment, yes, she may experience it. In fact, she probably will, to some degree. But as her daughter, you're going to support her, and love her, and be a resource for her as she struggles through it.

ME: So what do I do?

TIM: Exactly what you're doing right now. You're going to listen. You're going to laugh when she laughs. You're going to tell her she's pretty when she gets dressed up, mainly because she is; I've seen your mother and she's sharp! And you're going to be with her when she gets down. You're just going to be present. All the way through. All. The. Way.

ME: I am, aren't I.

TIM: You will help her carry on...while she carries on.

TIM GUNN TALKS ME DOWN FROM A METAPHORICAL LEDGE...

2009-01-04T18:38:00.000-08:00

ME: Aha! There it is. Look!

TIM: Where?

ME: There. See it now?

TIM: Let ME hold the magnifying mirror. Try shining the flashlight from this angle.

ME: See it?

TIM: Ohhhhh...there it is.

ME: I know, right? It's huge! The San Andreas Fault could hide in there.

TIM: Deborah, it's a line. Yes. But unless you go without moisturizer and go full on sunbathing for six months, no one is going to see it unless you duct tape a magnifying glass to your face with a cardboard arrow pointing to it!

ME: So you're admitting I have another line.

TIM: I don't think I can take another birthday with you.

ME: I don't think I can take another birthday with me.

TIM: Look, you're over 50. You have to choose between your butt or your face-that's the reality of it my dear. You're thin, you chose your butt. Your butt won. Your face lost. *pause* I've never seen eyeballs shake like that.

ME: Are you serious? That's it! You're going to say something like that to me and think it's OVER? I don't do GLIB! I may SPEAK glib. But I don't PROCESS glib. Oh ho ho ho no Mr. Gunn...no no no no no...I did NOT choose my butt. This is not a butt. This is a battering ram for bones trying to escape through my gluteus minimus. Jennifer Lopez has a butt. Girls with some meat have a butt. What I have is a lower back which somehow immediately becomes my thighs. This, I did NOT choose. This is a lose/lose situation, sir. I have an aging face and NO butt. It hurts to sit on a hard chair because of the bony nature of my lack of butt and it hurts to look in a mirror.

TIM: Has your husband said anything to you about the lines on your face?

ME: Really Tim? Really? My husband hasn't seen me in natural light in 5 years. Have you ever wondered why I have so many candles in my house?

TIM: Well, there does seem to be a lot of wax on the walls, now that you mention it.

ME: We are the mole people Tim. MOLE PEOPLE!!! It's not that I look especially alluring in candle light! Heck! Charles Manson looks alluring in candle light! I light candles because he can't see the fine details of the lines on my face!!! IT'S A STRATEGY!

TIM: *backing up* Okaaaayyyyyyy

ME: Get back here. You'd better talk me down from this ledge I'm getting ready to metaphorically jump off of buddy. I CANNOT afford a face lift. This had better come from within buddy boy and that is YOUR job!

TIM: I see. So, you just had a birthday and now you're having aging issues, am I getting that right?

ME: Yea Tim. Yea, aging issues. Bingo. Lines on face. Loose skin. Achy joints. The whole nine yards.

TIM: And you want to be young again?

ME: Well, I don't think it's possible to be young again. I just don't want people to judge me based on my age or appearance.

TIM: Oh! Like you do to yourself when you hold a magnifying mirror to your own face?

ME: *gulp* Is that judging?

TIM: Well, let's see. I'll hold the magnifying mirror and the flashlight. You grab the box of haircolor, the anti-wrinkle cream and the tape measure, and we'll recreate what you do in here all the time and then you tell me what you see.

ME: I'm the one doing the judging?

TIM: Looks that way to me. What would happen if your stopped judging yourself?

ME: I'd save money? Time? Sanity?

TIM: Those last two are mine.

ME: I'm the one doing the judging...

TIM: Now you're repeating yourself, old people do that.

ME: Stop it Tim.

TIM: Go outside with your husband. Have a picnic.

ME: Don't push it.

TIM GUNN TALKS MENTAL HEALTH

2008-11-14T13:40:00.000-08:00

ME: Yeesh! What a weird night and day!

TIM: Oh goody. I'm on the edge of my seat.

ME: That lacks sincerity Tim.

TIM: Well of course it does! You were expecting maybe...I don't know, who were you expecting?

ME: No one else Tim. No one else.

TIM: Holla at cha boy.

ME: Oh for crying out loud.

TIM: Okay okay.

ME: Well, last night I woke up at 3:00 in the morning.

TIM: Fascinating! Sell the movie rights, quick!

ME: That's not the story Tim.

TIM: Sorry.

ME: And I was thirsty, so I took a swig of my water bottle from the night table. Peter, who wakes up if I dream too loud, then asked if he could have a drink also so I handed him the bottle and he took a drink. He handed me back the bottle and as I attempted to put it on the nightstand, I displaced a pile of books and they all tumbled down and fell onto the floor, scaring my poor little dog, but I finally managed to put the bottle of water down. What's so weird is, I just thought the entire scene was hysterical! I started giggling incessantly. I fell onto my back and just lost it. I was insane with laughter. I could barely breathe. I was an idiot!

TIM: I see. What was your husband doing during all of this gaiety?

ME: He just laid there, on his side, facing away from me. He never even turned over to face me. He just waited for me to stop. When I was finally gasping my last snorts of glee, he referenced an old inside joke he's made a few times.

TIM: Which is what?

ME: You won't get it. It's an inside joke.

TIM: I understand. I'm just curious.

ME: He said, "What part of the evidence don't you understand"?

TIM: That's stupid.

ME: Yeesh Tim, I told you you wouldn't get it.

TIM: That doesn't stop it from sounding stupid?

ME: Whatever.

TIM: Go on.

ME: So, a couple of hours later I'm at MacDonald's ordering a diet drink and this lady steps in front of me and says, "MOVE!" all mean. So I move out of her way because, I mean, who WOULDN'T? And then she utters under her breath, "asshole". And I started laughing AGAIN!!!

TIM: I am stunned.

ME: I know, right? I laughed after being called an asshole.

TIM: I'm stunned that you're ordering diet soda that early in the morning. Do you have a death wish?

ME: Stay with me here Tim. I'm laughing after being called a name. That's the gist of the story.

TIM: Fine, but I'll revisit that diet soda for breakfast in the future.

ME: I'm sure. Anyway, then I go to the hospital for an MRI of my brain because my episodic amnesia has been worse of late. The tech asks me if I'm claustrophobic. I say, "Oh yea!". He lets me listen to Classical music. Cool. But first he stuffs my ears with foam plugs. That's counter-intuitive to me, but okay. Then he puts the headphones on. The music starts, I go into the tube, I start to relax to Pachebel's Canon, and then THIS HIDEOUS CLACKING STARTS. What do I do? Do I freak out? No. I start smiling!!!
What the heck?

TIM: And your concern is?

ME: I don't know if it's concern. I just found all of these experiences interesting, to say the least.

TIM: You never say the least about anything. Look how long this entry is. Look at it! It's huge already. No one is going to read this!

ME: Tim, it's not really about anyone reading it as much as it's about you and I processing things.

TIM: No. It's about people reading it.

ME: Are you going to help me figure out why I'm smiling and laughing at stuff that should make me crazy or irritated?

TIM: You're mentally healthy?

ME: No. I'm talking to you.

TIM: Fine. Be nasty.

ME: That's not what I meant. Oh forget it. I'm just going to keep smiling. I'm not going to worry about it until I stop feeling good. Does that make sense?

TIM: Makes perfect sense to me? But considering I'm an imaginary voice in your head, that shouldn't really give you too much comfort. Hey! Did you hear the poem by the schizophrenic? "Roses are red, violets are blue. I'm a schizophrenic and so am I!"

ME: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH....oh......

TIM GUNN IS SPEECHLESS

2008-11-07T09:37:00.000-08:00

ME: Hey Tim! We did it?

TIM: And what's that?

ME: We elected a President. The people spoke and a clear winner emerged. No dirty tricks, no shenanigans, no controversy. A clear, undisputed winner.

TIM: Shenanigans?

ME: Fine. It's a quaint, rather antiquated word, but it has its place.

TIM: Yes. Congratulations are in order. Do you feel better? You were struggling quite a bit with your choice.

ME: I feel like a million bucks.

TIM: Too bad your clothing choices will never reflect that.

ME: Oh, your slams about my fashion sense, or lack thereof, can't even bother me right now. We're still riding the elation of election night. It was beautiful and unifying.

TIM: Can I assume you voted for Obama?

ME: Oh, no one knows who I voted for.

TIM: What? You didn't shout from the rooftops who you voted for?

ME: Nope! I cried all the way to the voting booth. Cried and prayed. I didn't know my choice until I stepped up to the machine.

TIM: You're kidding! You seemed so dead-on certain after our last conversation.

ME: I know, huh! But that was just the beginning of my "editing out the drama" and thinking about things. It was a decisive moment for me. It clarified a lot of things but it didn't "seal the deal". I really struggled.

TIM: So, right up until the time you got into the booth? Seriously?

ME: Yep! The way I saw it, I had four choices. McCain, Obama, Keyes and Nader.

TIM: Wow.

ME: Exactly. I stood there and stood there and stood there...and then I realized that, it was going to happen exactly like it was supposed to happen so pick the man and be done with it. So I picked. Then I finished voting and walked out. That afternoon I bought two celebratory pies and went home.

TIM: So no one knows who you voted for? Not even your husband?

ME: Right.

TIM: And you're suffering under the illusion that people care, aren't you?

ME: Absolutely.

TIM: I'm speechless.

ME: SCORE!!!

TIM GUNN TALKS ABOUT THE ELECTION...

2008-10-29T17:06:00.001-07:00

ME: Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh

TIM: Let's edit the drama. What's the problem.

ME: The election's coming.

TIM: And?

ME: I'm still not sure who I'm voting for. I'm that hideous demographic called "The Undecided"

TIM: Kind of like, "The UNdead"?

ME: Yea. I'll wish I was dead if I make the wrong choice.

TIM: There will be plenty of people to make that happen if it gets out who you voted for.

ME: Don't I know it!

TIM: I thought you were 100% behind Obama?

ME: Wrenches were thrown in the works. There were hitches in the giddy-up. Spin was spun.

TIM: Were you attacked by the cliche police?

ME: Something like that.

TIM: Quick! I need you to be more vague. I almost understand what you're saying.

ME: I know I know. I sound ridiculous. I really don't know who to vote for anymore. I've listened intently to both sides. They're both passionate. They both have good points. I thought if I "picked my battle" and just went with the candidate that best represented me on that particular issue, that priority, so to speak, then that would be that!

TIM: Okay, that's a plan. What happened?

ME: I can't come up with a definitive battle! There's just so many! So many people that I love and respect are voting for different people. There's no real consensus. No mandate.

TIM: So, you're picking other peoples' minds? You're trying to figure out what other people are doing? Am I hearing you correctly?

ME: It sounds like that doesn't it?

TIM: Excuse me. I'd like to speak with Deborah please.

ME: Tim, it's me.

TIM: No. I need Deborah. The loud-mouth blond Democrat that talks way too fast, dresses funny, sits weirdly, rocks too much, has poor taste in, well almost everything?

ME: Me again.

TIM: No, I'm not certain I know you.

ME: Fine. You have my attention Mr. Runs-into-the-room-with-Gunns-blazing. Spill.

TIM: Who are you? What is this? You were dead on certain about Obama for months. You even had a link to his website on your other blog; you know, the one that isn't as cerebral OR as interesting as this one. But since then, you've studied the issues, became politically active, even stomping for some issues. You involved your HEAD, as well as your HEART. What does this say about you?

ME: I went with my emotions when I supported Obama. I was seduced by his "feel good message". I didn't study things out thoroughly. Right?

TIM: Could be. Does that mean it's wrong to support him now?

ME: Not at all. He could still be the right man. But I have to support him now based on what my research tells me. I have to learn to balance my critical thinking skills with my emotional response. And if I'm using my critical thinking skills, McCain can and does have good points as well. In fact, there was a time, I'm thinking 2000, when I actually loved McCain. But was that emotional at THAT time as well? Am I getting it?

TIM: Yes, you're getting it. Now, continue to edit. Phase out the drama, bring in the rational thought. Step back, take a look. Look at your family. What are your immediate needs for the next year? The next four years? What are your priorities? Are they financial? Are they feelings of security? Are they morality issues? Which candidate will best represent what you're going to be about in the immediate future? Are you with me?

ME: Am I with you? Seriously? Just try to get way from me. No don't! That would totally require some kind of weird medication that I can't afford...no health care coverage...wait!...oh my gosh....HEALTH CARE COVERAGE!!!! BY CRACKY!!!! I THINK WE'VE DONE IT!!!!!

TIM: "WE" Do you have a multiple personality in your pocket? Oh wait...

TIM GUNN TALKS EXISTENTIAL CRISES....OH NEVER MIND

2008-10-19T18:57:00.000-07:00

TIM: Well, I'm feeling a bit spurned, rejected, left-out.

DEB: Are you serious?

TIM: It's been days Deborah! What am I to think when I don't hear from you for days on end?

DEB: Um, well, considering that I come to you when I'm experiencing internal conflict, I suppose you can consider me...I don't know....healthy?

TIM: Well, your mental health is absolutely alone-ville for moi.

DEB: Moi? Who are you, Ms Piggy?

TIM: Fine, you know what I mean though. You can't even stop in for a nice "Hello" or "Hi Tim, how are you" every once in awhile? You have to be tortured or upset to speak with me?

DEB: Tim, it's the nature of our relationship. You represent my angst, my struggle du jour.

TIM: I can't believe you just said "struggle du jour", what are you, a menu of emotional complaints? Do you get salad with that?

DEB: Been watching a lot of TV lately Timmy boy?

TIM: I have to kill time some how.

DEB: Books.

TIM: Looks who's talking! Earlene? A girl and her mac?

DEB: That's called "creative out letting".

TIM: You totally made that up.

DEB: Whatever.

TIM: !

DEB: Oh my gosh, now you're not speaking to me? Tim? Tim? You have to speak to me Tim. This is your blog! It's called "Tim Gunn's Voice", not Tim Gunn's Cold Shoulder! Why would anyone read Tim Gunn's Cold Shoulder?

TIM: I'd read it if the shoulder was turned against you!

DEB: You don't mean that.

TIM: *sniff*

DEB: Tim. I'm not that healthy. Really. The quarter's almost over. I have classes coming up that will crawl under my skin and send me raging against the system. You know this. It's just a matter of time before I am a loon....a raging loon...and to whom will I turn when that happens Tim? Huh? To whom?

TIM: Impressive use of grammar...

DEB: Thank you. I did it for you my friend.

TIM: Well, some one's going to have to be here for you. Goodness knows those men you live with can't handle existential crises or fragmented personality disorder. Fine. I'll stay here for awhile longer. Oh for crying out loud. Carry on!

DEB: *sigh*

TIM GUNN TALKS SMACK...ER..."MAC"

2008-10-12T13:24:00.000-07:00

TIM: You're smiling again. And that is seldom a good sign for anyone.

ME: Hahahah. Well! I've figured out that whole Youtube thing and I have mastered it.

TIM: You've "mastered" Youtube? Why is this a frightening thought?

ME: Don't be sceered. I've started posting silly little videos I've made with my Mac computer. I think they're funny so I started an account on Youtube so I could post them there.

TIM: And the point is?

ME: Is this where I say another pointy-head joke? Because you know I love pointy-head jokes?

TIM: No. Spare me. What exactly are you uploading to Youtube? And will I be sorry I asked?

ME: Here's what I do. This is my creative process.

TIM: I'm sorry already. Carry on.

ME: You're not sorry, you just love saying "carry on" and I love hearing it. We're a little dysfunctional like that.

TIM: Speak for yourself.

ME: I always do, you're in my head.

TIM: Oh for crying out loud...

ME: OKAY OKAY. Here's what I do; I turn on my Mac computer to the IPhoto. I switch on the video component and turn on one of those crazy visuals like a "squeeze head" or something where I'm all distorted. I look at myself and then, this crazy persona or character comes into my head and sort of takes over. I hear her voice, I get a sense of her story, and then I just start speaking it.

TIM: Speaking what?

ME: Her story! I'm not scripted or anything. I just take off. It's like I'm channeling or something. It's the funnest thing ever!!! You know how some people channel long lost spiritual giants? Well, apparently I channel embittered divorcees and old women with bad face lifts. I don't think I'm "evolved" enough to catch a being of light or a mystical warrior, maybe next lifetime, eh?

TIM: I see.

ME: Hey. That's what psychotherapists say.

TIM: Go on.

ME: They say that as well. Are you writing stuff down? Are you taking notes?

TIM: Why? Would that bother you?

ME: What are you doing Tim? Are you trying to psychotherapize me? What the heck Tim?

TIM: Don't get angry. I just find it curious that you're caught up in this activity of "channeling" other people's personalities?

ME: Oh, you mean like style gurus? You mean like imagining entire conversations with imaginary men? You mean like that Tim? TIM?

TIM: Hmmmmm. I suppose, on hindsight, there probably isn't anything horribly out of kilter about it? It sounds harmless really. It's actually quite humorous. I say "CARRY ON"!!!

ME: I thought that was what you were going to say.

TIM: Well, of course you did, you're brilliant like that...

TIM GUNN EXPLAINS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN FRIENDSHIP AND APPEARANCES

2008-10-07T08:53:00.000-07:00

TIM: My, you're happy.

ME: Oh I know! I reconnected with an old friend from high school back home. Turns out we only live a few miles apart and we're going to meet for dinner. Isn't that crazy? Thousands of miles from home and here we are, so close to one another. And we've been neighbors for seven years and didn't know about it!

TIM: What's her life like now?

ME: Well, it's probably nice. Her husband is a golf pro and she lives in a very exclusive neighborhood.

TIM: I see...go on.

ME: What do you mean, "go on"...that's it.

TIM: That's it? There's nothing else rolling around in that head of yours? You're not consciously or unconsciously comparing your lives?...your looks?...your neighborhoods?

ME: Tim, it's not like that between us. We're old friends.

TIM: Who haven't spoken in almost ten years and have managed to miss seeing each other despite being neighbors for seven of those years.

ME: Well, her life lead her down a different path. She married into some money, divorced, married a golf pro and lives a very nice life. That isn't to say she hasn't had her internal struggles, we all have.

TIM: But she didn't have any material struggles, right? She's never had to "Donna Summer" it.

ME: Tim, that's a relatively obscure cultural reference that few people would get. Did you mean to say she's never had to "work hard for the money"?

TIM: Of course I did. I was being hip.

ME: Stop that.

TIM: Holla at cha boy.

ME: STOP IT!

TIM: So, you're about to have dinner with an old friend from the past who hasn't shared your struggles. She's led a relatively privileged existence while you have, shall we say, NOT. She's traveled the world and in fact just returned from a "jaunt" to Italy with her daughter and you have...

ME: Boldly sped around the switch backs of Aguanga on the back way to Temecula.

TIM: Nice try. There are no switch backs in Aguanga.

ME: I know. But it sounded fierce...just for a second.

TIM: Where are you dining?

ME: A gourmet pizza place on El Paseo in Palm Desert.

TIM: Perfect.

ME: I know! Who gets dressed up for pizza?

TIM: You do, apparently.

ME: Yea, whatever. I just want to visit with my old friend. We had so much fun speaking together on the phone. We talked about her mother and her father. She asked about my mom, whom she always loved. In fact, our mothers are neighbors now! She said she loved California, as I do, but that she couldn't find any real friends and that just the other day she has said a prayer she could find a good friend and voila!...she found my name on some weird classmate reunion thing that I had just joined the day before. It seems providential.

TIM: Then what are you worried about?

ME: I WASN'T worried! You were the one with the weird doubts and questions.

TIM: Deborah, you know how this works. My purpose is to give voice to your unspoken thoughts and concerns and internal conflicts and then provide a rational response viz a viz "my" voice so you can feel better about things, right?

ME: Look, if you explain it in those terms, it's not quite as effective. You have to remain in character or else I just appear needy and a tad psychotic.

TIM: Fine. *clearing throat* Deborah, you and this woman were friends way before "life" stepped in between the two of you. You are coming from a "shared base"; a common root system. The bond you created during your adolescence appears to have remained intact as evidenced by the emails and phone conversation each of you have shared. For goodness sake, your new found friend actually prayed to find a companion before finding you! I know you well enough to know that THAT particular information unfurled your faith flag and it is wavingly proudly. My suggestion is for you to go to lunch and enjoy your friend. Listen to her life. Listen to the silences between the words. Look for her story in her eyes. Reconnect those 15-year-old hearts that spent so much time together in deep discussion, playing with her poodle and tanning by the pool. Just because life appears easy doesn't mean a thing. Not. One. Thing.

ME: Well said Tim. I couldn't have said it better myself.

TIM GUNN GIVES "VOICE" LESSONS...

2008-10-01T18:17:00.001-07:00

TIM: So I couldn't help but notice how much straighter you're sitting. Any particular reason?

ME: Am I really sitting straighter?

TIM: Oh, you certainly are. You hadn't noticed?

ME: Hmmmm, I guess it must be subconscious. A reaction to my latest endeavor.

TIM: If I turn and walk away will I be spared the details or will you spill them anyway?

ME: Oh no, they're comin' at cha big boy. They're spilling...clean up on aisle Tim.

TIM: *eyeglasses temples in mouth* Spill.

ME: I'm practicing writing in my "scholarly voice". It's fun. You wanna hear it?

TIM: *bent over shaking*

ME: Oh my gosh! Are you laughing? Seriously, are you laughing at me?

TIM: Oh my dear, that is priceless. No, seriously, what are you really doing.

ME: I was serious! Yikes, I can be a scholar! I can use a scholarly voice.

TIM: Oh stop it, you're killing me. Oh, my sides....this is so rich...

ME: Dude! I just summarized a heavily researched article in a peer-reviewed journal on organizational leadership regarding goal-conflict and it's relationship to budgeting constraints between athletics and academics and the effect, if any, on the academic health and personal well-being of students.

TIM: And you just referred to me as "dude" before you launched into your defense.

ME: Rats

TIM: Yea...

ME: Hmmmmmm....

TIM: Your posture isn't as straight anymore.

ME: Well, of course not, I was set down a notch or two.

TIM: Are you going to use your "scholarly voice" at the dinner table or when you speak with your grandchildren?

ME: No.

TIM: You're not going to use that ram-rod straight spine of yours to play with them either. Relax. No one loves you because of any "voice". They love you because of your words. Go sit in that rocker you're so fond of and curl up in that obnoxious little ball thingy you do.

ME: Awwwwww, Dude.......

TIM: We'll discuss THAT voice another time.

TIM GUNN ON AGING ISSUES

2008-09-29T13:00:00.000-07:00

TIM: What's that smell?

ME: I'm fine. And yourself?

TIM: No really. What is that?

ME: That's my sore knee. I speed-walked today and now I'm paying for it. It's an ointment the doctor prescribed.

TIM: You mean unguent.

ME: What is an "unguent"?

TIM: Deborah, I came from your head, that word was in there. You must know what it means.

ME: Whatever. I need to treat the knee and prescription salve is the treatment of choice.

TIM: What's wrong with good old-fashioned aspirin? The swelling goes down, the pain goes away, and no one smells your problem.

ME: Well, it's not good for the alimentary canal, it doesn't cut it in the pain department and this is less invasive.

TIM: Speak for yourself, my olfactory system has been invaded plenty.

ME: Your olfactory will recover.

TIM: What's wrong with your knee anyway?

ME: It's refusing to play well with the rest of us. We, collectively the rest-of-my-body-mind-and-spirit, are actually quite young at heart; but the old knees are grumpy old things that refuse to get along. They ache and moan and cause problems.

TIM: Hmmmmmm, sounds like some people I know...and by "some people" I mean certain bloggers who have imaginary conversations with style gurus.

ME: Hey! I am not an achy, moany, problem-causing blogger. I am fun. I am youthful. I am.....covered in unguent complaining about my joints. Oh my gosh, I'm old.

TIM: No no no...you're not technically "old"...you're just biking toward the exit ramp. You'll get there one day, but just don't kid yourself that you'll never make that turn-off. Enjoy the ride, take in the scenery. It's alright to know that the exit ramp to senior-ville is ahead, perhaps even way ahead, but you can go in style. You can even wear those leggings you're so fond of.

ME: So, I'm doing relatively okay on this aging journey?

TIM: You're doing "relatively okay"...just don't throw away the aspirins.

TIM GUNN TACKLES TOXIC TALK

2008-09-25T17:47:00.000-07:00

ME: That's it!

TIM: What now?

ME: I have had it! No more news shows. No more listening to mean people. No more toxicity. I'm done. Over. Fin.

TIM: Hmmmmm. Who put the bee in your bonnet today?

ME: I can't deal with the toxicity in the environment. This is my new soap box issue. Everyone is so hateful! They're so mean spirited and full of guile. What the heck?

TIM: Excuse me while I look below at some previous posts...hmmmmm....yes, I see, no complaining there....

ME: Sarcasm noted.

TIM: What has brought this on?

ME: I don't know. Everyone is getting sicker and sicker. We're all fatigued and grouchy and we all have weight issues, blah blah blah, and I think it's the toxic times we live in.

TIM: I'm not fatigued. I'm not sick. I don't have weight issues.

ME: You're imaginary Tim. You'll be perfect forever.

TIM: I still have to live in your head and believe me, it's so NOT therapeutic in there sister. It's a tribute to my resilience that I'm even remotely normal after spending down-time in that hell hole.

ME: HEY! Where's the love? And yea, you're remotely normal....

TIM: Deborah, people will always complain and moan, and sometimes it will be about you. You're preparing to enter a very public arena; teaching and possibly publishing. You think you're hearing a lot of criticism now? Just WAIT until you turn your back and they start on YOU! Get used to it. Do some yoga because you'd better be flexible enough to roll with THOSE punches and that skin?...forget the wrinkles, you'd do better to make it thicker to avoid getting your feelings hurt. Caa Caa happens my dear, and then it hits the fan. And when it does, don't finger point, just finger paint. Make it work!

TIM GUNN GETS REAL ABOUT TEENAGERS

2008-09-23T17:03:00.000-07:00

TIM: Eww

ME: What!

TIM: That scowl of yours. I'd jump back into your head but I'm afraid of what you must be thinking to put that scowl on your face.

ME: Oh. Sorry. Teenagers.

TIM: Ewww. Yes, scowl justified.

ME: What is the deal with them? Are they retarded? Why don't their minds work right?

TIM: I'm sorry. You said your field is psychology?

ME: I know, I know! I'm at a loss myself. I can't explain my total lack of understanding, insight or compassion.

TIM: Didn't you raise four of these creatures yourself?

ME: Yes! But mine were deliriously easy, funny, bright and loving. They were a joy.

TIM: Are you remembering things correctly or has time rosied the lens?

ME: Well, maybe a skosh, but even after taking the rose-colored glasses off, they were overwhelmingly great people and the experience was a blast. We laughed every day! I mean, look at you and I, we laugh every day and you're imaginary! Can you imagine how much fun I had with real people?

TIM: There's no reason to be hurtful.

ME: Sorry.

TIM: Does the particular teenager who's causing so much menopausal angst have any good points? And please don't make any pointed-head jokes.

ME: *silence*

TIM: Unlike you, I'm not aging but even I have a time limit, can you come up with something before, perhaps, breakfast tomorrow?

ME: I'm thinking. Oh! In June he'll graduate from high school and...and...um....probably won't go to college...probably won't hold down a job....ehhh....um....

TIM: Okay, forget the "good points". Look. He's there. Period. Learn to love him. You probably do. I know you. If he wasn't there for you to pick on, you'd be bored out of your mind. Doesn't this young man watch Project Runway with you sometimes?

ME: Yes. Yes he does.

TIM: He seems to enjoy it. And even if he's just acting like he enjoys it, isn't that rather nice of him?

ME: Stop it. Don't make him human.

TIM: Okay. Now you're sounding like a serial killer.

ME: Okay okay okay. The kid's okay. Fine. Look, we didn't start out together. I didn't teach him how to walk. I didn't feed him his vegetables. I wasn't there for his first day of school. I get it. I was there for his first day of high school. I'll be there for his last day of school. I guess that's something. Oh, quit looking at me like that.

TIM: Like what?

ME: With that insufferable smile. Oh my gosh, are you wiping your eyes? Are you crying?

TIM: Look at you....you grew up so fast. *sniff*

TIM GUNN ROCKS THE CONVERSATION...

2008-09-22T08:56:00.000-07:00

TIM: Stop that. You're doing it again.

ME: Stop what?

TIM: That incessant rocking back and forth. It never stops.

ME: Tim. I rock. It's what I do.

TIM: Well, it's starting to get on my nerves. You're not even sitting in a rocking chair.

ME: I don't need no steenking rockeeng chair.

TIM: Why do you rock all the time?

ME: Don't know. Always have. Ever since I was a baby. Even before I could sit up, according to family lore, I bounced on my belly.

TIM: Did they perform neurological testing? X-rays? Evaluations? Therapy?

ME: Oh sure Tim. Our middle-class, suburban, Ohio family was all about that in the 50s and 60s. They really wanted to get to the bottom of the weirdness instead of just hiding from it. We were all about "getting real" back then. Can you hear the sarcasm in my voice Tim?

TIM: Not so much, it's being drowned out by the pervasive and penetrating hypnotic motion of your swaying. You're like a King Cobra ready to attack.

ME: King Cobra....hmmmmmm....I like that....

TIM: It wasn't a compliment.

ME: Well, what are you going to do Tim? Go back into my head and sulk?

TIM: Not likely. I get seasick in there.

ME: So, you're going to stay out here and play?

TIM: I'll stay out here with you, but I'm going to nail you to the back of your seat!

ME: Tim.

TIM: What.

ME: You're swaying.

TIM: I am?

ME: It's okay. It happens to just about everyone who hangs around with me long enough. It's unconscious. People tend to other-than-consciously mirror other people and it's true in this case. I notice it all the time. It's become almost a hobby. I see it a lot. It's like yawning. Once one person does it, it become contagious.

TIM: Well, I don't buy it. I'm imaginary. I don't operate that way. Have you ever seen me yawn?

ME: Well...no...but I haven't really looked for it. But you are swaying.

TIM: Stop saying that!

ME: Swayer.

TIM: What is wrong with you? What are you, like 12?

ME: Hmmmmmm...must have been that open, authentic, getting-real upbringing in 1960s Ohio.....

TIM: Forget I said anything about your rocking.

ME: My what?

TIM: Exactly.

TIM GUNN DOES AN IPOD INTERVENTION

2008-09-18T12:35:00.000-07:00

TIM: Deborah, I'd like to speak with you about your newest obsession.

ME: Christian Bale?

TIM: *chuckling* No. That's harmless, he's as imaginary as I am in terms of interfering with your life.

ME: What other obsession are you referring to?

TIM: Your IPod.

ME: OH! My new bestest buddy ever?

TIM: *withering* Yes, exactly, your "bestest buddy ever". I'm afraid this is problematic.

ME: Really? It's just music...and an audio book...and a comic album...and my meditation CDs...and three movies...but, they're all Christian Bale's. It's like a 2 x 3 inch library that I can go in and shut the door and no one else comes in.

TIM: You're making my argument for me. You are spending a little too much time on that item. You've become a tad dependent, a bit needy. The other day you panicked when you thought your battery was running low and you swerved over three lanes of traffic onto a sidewalk to get into a Mac store just to ask for an "emergency battery squirt" to charge it long enough to get you home. That's not natural.

ME: Tim, neither is this conversation but that doesn't worry you much. And besides, those people crossing the street didn't get hurt. They were young, they could run fast. They saw me coming. And that lady with the baby carriage was just way too dramatic.

TIM: Oh, don't be fooled by my calm demeanor. I am plenty worried sister, PLENTY! It's just that there's only room for one disaster per dialogue and your IPod is winning. Perhaps it's time to rethink having more human interaction. Human beings aren't so bad, you gave birth to several and if you don't put your fingers too close to their mouths when they're hungry they seldom bite.

ME: You really aren't helping.

TIM: You really aren't trying.

ME: What? I can't hear you...you know...the volume is up on my IPod thingy....WHAT?

*back of Tim's head*

TIM GUNN GETS A LEG UP ON THE CONVERSATION....

2008-09-16T12:12:00.000-07:00

ME: I'm into leggings.

TIM: And hello to you as well.

ME: I really love them. I don't have to be modest if I'm wearing a skirt. You know how I love to scrunch up my legs.

TIM: No. No, I don't know that at all.

ME: Well, you do now. I sit all scrunched up. I'm always scrunched up. I'm a little ball of a person.

TIM: Hmmmmm. So what else about leggings appeals to you besides your proclivity towards armchair gymnastics?

ME: Well, they are way comfy.

TIM: Comfort is in the eyes of the beholder my dear...

ME: So what does that mean? I don't look good in leggings? Is that what you're saying? You don't have a comfort level with how I look in them? Huh?

TIM: I'm just suggesting that next time you're all balled up and doing some kind of unnatural shape-shifting there in your chair, you may want to take a look at what's BEHIND you....that's all....

ME: Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

TIM GUNN TALKS ME THRU A COLD-IMAGINE THAT..

2008-09-15T16:18:00.001-07:00

TIM: What are you groaning about?

ME: Arrggghh. I have bilateral ear infections, a sinus infection, a sore throat and a throbbing headache.

TIM: Eww. Just speak up. I'll stay over here.

ME: I don't think it's catching.

TIM: You mean, "contagious" and let's just hedge our bets shall we? Speak up!

ME: Tim, you're imaginary, you can't get sick anyway. Aren't you being a bit over-the-top on the contagious thing?

TIM: Let's review the last few seconds. You're having a conversation with an imaginary style guru and you're telling me that I'm being paranoid? Did I hear you right?

ME: Oh, for crying out loud! Just hand me that decongestant please.

TIM: I can't. I'm imaginary.

ME: Tim, would you please be kind enough then to just sit with me as I get my own decongestant, make my own chicken soup, and watch reruns of Project Runway? Hmmmm? Would you do that please?

TIM: Well, you're being quite lovely even though you're feeling under the weather. Imagine that...

TIM GUNN TALKS TANNING....

2008-09-13T15:13:00.000-07:00

TIM: What is that?

ME: What?

TIM: That.

ME: What? What are you looking at?

TIM: Your skin.

ME: What about my skin?

TIM: The whole of it.

ME: Well yeesh!

TIM: Melanin.

ME: My tan? You're asking about my tan?

TIM: Exactly. Why do you have that?

ME: Tim. I live in Southern California. I have access to a relatively large body of water popularly known as the Pacific Ocean. Also, I can jump into virtually a gazillion pools. A gazillion is a lot. A whole lot. I'm in graduate school. I can count to a gazillion. I'll start right now if you wish. One. Two. Thre...

TIM: If you have a tan, that must mean you have a tan LINE. Oh dear Lord, please don't tell me you own a swimsuit.

ME: Wow. That would be a bad thing huh?

TIM: People would PRAY for "the big one" my dear...that earthquake all of you Californians are so fond of fearing.

ME: What would you suggest I swim in then?

TIM: Besides the load of debt you're accruing with your advancing degrees and age? I wouldn't presume to suggest anything.

ME: Swim nekkid?

TIM: -------------------

ME: Tim? SMELLING SALTS SOMEONE!!!!!!!

TIM GUNN "SPEAR HEADS" A CONVERSATION ON DIET...

2008-09-12T11:34:00.001-07:00

ME: It has been said that "we are what we eat".

TIM: And your point?

ME: Well, I'm wondering if I'm making correct food choices.

TIM: It's difficult for me to pay attention to you when you have crumbs on your chin.

ME: Oh, sorry. I mean, look at you. You're impeccable. All the time. You look wonderful. You're trim, You're fit. Your skin is fabulous. You're the picture of health. Do you believe that we are what we eat?

TIM: I believe that the time to consider those things is perhaps before one grabs their fifth pop tart.

ME: Hmmmmm. Third pop tart?

TIM: Oh *chucking*, I see your point now, it's at the top of your head. That must come in quite handily when you're spearing-for-ding-dongs at the VFW on weekends. Well, carry on.

TIM GUNN TALKS ME THROUGH A STROKE...

2008-09-11T12:55:00.000-07:00

TIM: Another long face? That's twice this week, you're bringing me down. What's wrong this time? Did you look for shoes or something?

ME: Gosh Tim, it's not always about fashion is it?

TIM: Yes. Yes it is.

ME: Oh. Well, I bought a little shirt today. It's from the Juniors' section. Am I overdoing it? You know, buying from that section when I'm my age?

TIM: Does it fit, or is it tight enough to make your neck swell?

ME: Oh, it fits, it's a large in Juniors, but it fits okay. I just feel, um, what's the word...

TIM: Needy?

ME: OH! Okay. Do you think that's the appropriate word?

TIM: Deborah, this is YOUR blog, the word "needy" is in your blog description. I didn't come up with it, you did. I merely looked heavenward while you were fumbling with words and I saw it there, over your head. It's right there, in red.

ME: Okay, maybe it feels good to purchase something in the Juniors' section at my age. Maybe it's an ego stroke of sorts.

TIM: Could be. You know, at your age, strokes happen, might as well let them involve your ego as opposed to say, your cerebellum. Carry on!

TIM GUNN AND I "MAKE UP"...

2008-09-10T10:52:00.001-07:00

ME: I bought some new make-up. Would you like to look at it?

TIM: Hmmmmm....where did you get it?

ME: Walgreens.

TIM: Really? I'll look at it, but from a distance. Now turn it around.

ME: Tim. It's still in the package. It's not on me yet.

TIM: Oh, I know. I just don't want to get too close to it. Let me guess, they had a "buy one, get one half-off" sale. Am I right?

ME: Maybe.

TIM: Hmmmmmm......what is that?....eye shadow? Silver eye shadow? Are you going clubbing in the near future? Perhaps you became a vampire and neglected to tell anyone?

ME: It's not just silver, it comes with a cool charcoal accent that I thought would look pretty. And I don't go clubbing!

TIM: What about the vampire thing? You didn't deny it.

ME: I don't HAVE to deny any vampire thing. That's ridiculous. And since when do vampires wear silver eyeshadow?

TIM: Well, all vampires are compelled to dress that whole "after 5" look, so silver would have its place. The problem would be, they couldn't check it in the mirror...no reflection. What else did you purchase?

ME: Um, I bought some green/brown eye shadow and some lipstick! Cool, huh?

TIM: Golly, I should say! I know, let's meet in the bathroom during study hall and we'll swap blush also, bring your mascara too okay?

ME: Your glibness will be the end of you.

TIM: Dear, my glibness is the end of this conversation du jour.

TIM GUNN HELPS ME CLEAN OUT MY CLOSET...

2008-09-09T10:27:00.001-07:00

ME: Well, are you going to help me go through my closet and decide what to keep and what to put in the garage sale?

TIM: You're thinking of keeping something?

ME: Tim, I have to wear something. I can't throw it all out. Besides, it's not all bad is it? Is it? Tim?

TIM: I'm sorry, were you speaking to me. I was looking at that tablecloth there.

ME: Tim, that's a skirt. It's in my closet, why would a tablecloth be in my closet?

TIM: Exactly. More importantly, why would it be around your waist?

ME: So, you'll help me?

TIM: Absolutely. I'll get the gasoline and matches.

TIM GUNN GETS TO THE ROOT OF THE MATTER...

2008-09-07T22:43:00.000-07:00

TIM: Well, I've avoided this subject, but your hair. Talk to me.

ME: My hair? Okay. I'm letting the natural grow out so I can see exactly where the silver is. Is that a problem?

TIM: What do you mean "exactly" where the silver is? Does it move? Is it wiley? Does it play tricks on you, is it on your crown one day and at your bangs the next?

ME: Well, no, of course not. The silver doesn't move, I just want to know what part of my hair is actually silver. I should have phrased it differently.

TIM: Well *chuckling* rephrasing wouldn't have really helped. It still doesn't fix the problem does it?

ME: What problem? What are you talking about?

TIM: Roots. And I am NOT talking about the miniseries. We have a problem on our shoulders and by "we", I mean "you". You're going to have to make a decision here my dear and soon. Those roots are spreading like backstage gossip and it's ugly.

ME: My plan is to let the roots grow out just an inch or so more so I can get an accurate "read" on what my situation is and then get a nice weave with some gold and other warm tones. You know, not so brassy.

TIM: I see. Well, you're really running head on into a "make it work" situation. You know that right? How are you in hats?...OH!, Take that off immediately! My legs are weak. That was frightening. Were you dropped on your head as a child? Do you go to a support group or anything for that. You brave thing.

ME: Tim, the shape of my head is not that bad and my hair will be fine. It will grow out and one day, when I'm finally finished with school, I'll be able to pull it back in a ponytail and all will be well. Tim? Tim? Yeesh, somebody help me, he's passed out again!!!

TIM GUNN GOES FOR ANOTHER RIDE, AT MY EXPENSE....

2008-09-06T12:15:00.000-07:00

TIM: Is this the paper you're working on?

ME: Yes! I'm not quite finished, I have some polishing up to do around the opening paragraph and, of course, the summary.

TIM: Good, I'm glad you told me you're not finished. It's a bit boring. I'm afraid Nina and Michael would be a bit bored by it.

ME: What? Tim, Nina Garcia and Michael Cors aren't going to read this! This is a school assignment? Nina and Michael are judges on Project Runway, why would they read this paper?

TIM: I didn't say they were going to read it, I said they would be a bit bored by it.

ME: Why do you do that to me? Why do you take me to a place of hysteria, a brink of insanity, and then drop me off? Why do you take me there Tim?

TIM: Well, the ride is simply delightful, the scenery can be shockingly different each time, and I had a few minutes to kill. Carry on.

TIM GUNN'S VOICE SAID THERE ARE NO SYNTHETIC LEOPARDS...

2008-09-05T08:59:00.000-07:00

TIM: You were out early this morning.

ME: I needed to pick up a couple of things. I needed tweezers and dish detergent.

TIM: No seriously, what did you need that early?

ME: Seriously, I needed tweezers and dish detergent.

TIM: ?

ME: What?

TIM: How are those two items even remotely connected and why would they drive you to leave your home looking like that?

ME: Like what?

TIM: Do you not own a mirror dear? You're wearing a leopard print synthetic material. There are NO synthetic leopards. And even if they did exist, they wouldn't come out before 5:00 pm. Haven't we had this conversation before?

ME: I, I, well, maybe. I shouldn't have worn this out this morning?

TIM: Deborah, you shouldn't have worn it to scour your toilet, okay? But, it's done. So, let's tweeze tweeze tweeze and get those dishes done. We shall never speak of this again.

ALONE...UTTERLY AND COMPLETELY ALONE....

2008-09-04T15:03:00.000-07:00

TIM: Why the long face? It's not genetics, you're not horsey people.

ME: My assignment this first week of school was to electronically respond to two of my "classmates" with a probing question regarding their comments about their goal statements. As it turns out, and this may be a first, it appears that I'm the only person in the class. I emailed the professor about it. This is so freakin' pathetic, I can't stand myself.

TIM: Let me get this straight. You worked all day yesterday trying to connect through overloaded servers to even get into this class and now you find out you're the only student in the class? What's the problem? You LOVE being the center of attention. This class is custom-made for you! You woke up this morning and stepped into a steaming pile of Deborah luck.

ME: I did?

TIM: Oh yes dear. You can work this. You just plug right along and do the work and stand by it. Carry on. And on.

ME: Okay, that's a plan. Maybe that's how it's supposed to be, huh? Maybe I"m supposed to be the only creature the professor is focused on. Wow. Cool! This could work out way great...easier assignments, looser due dates....hmmmmmmm.

TIM: Don't push it.

FIRST DAY OF GRAD SCHOOL...

2008-09-03T19:35:00.001-07:00

ME: The effing servers are down. It's the first day of school and the effing servers are down. Are they serious? I'm trying to do this on-line. The class is on-line. Really? Are they really doing this?

TIM: Deborah. Dear. I'm concerned. You're developing unattractive beads of sweat on your upper lip.

ME: What? So! My professor is going to think I'm not there! He'll think I've blown off the class! Worse, he'll never know I existed because I'M NOT THERE!

TIM: Oh, the professor who has perhaps dozens of other students in his class? Oh, do you think he'll be as consumed with you as you are with him? I just want you to ask yourself if he's developing unattractive beads of sweat on his upper lip because Deborah is having difficulty getting into his class? Do you think?

ME: Whatev. Fine.

TIM: There you go. Let the computer elves do their jobs and you can check back later. If it's happening to you, it's happening to others. Now off! And blot blot blot!