The Girl Going Nowhere Column Volume 3, TMI Christmas, features artist and illustrator, Tate Ellington, of Savannah, Georgia. She is a talented mama and wife and you can find her work @tate.ellington on instagram.
It’s 5am and the alarm is chirping, interrupting the tranquil sound of Ocean Waves brought to me by The White Noise App. Violet is the nicest of the colored sounds and sometimes I use Vacuum when my husband calls. “Hey, babe!” I say from the sofa on my 6th episode of Game of Thrones. “No! I would never watch it without you. . . I’m cleaning!. . . No, I deleted the White Noise App.”
To make amends for solo binge watching, a known marital no-no, I climb out of bed to make the coffee. K-cups are a continual source of anxiety for me, because I read somewhere if placed end to end, they could circle the Earth 10 times. I stir in the cream and sweetener and with every swirl of the spoon, I lament over dairy vs non dairy and vegan
vs Keto. I’m also concerned if we all go back to drip coffee pots, what will happen to all the pod based machines? Won’t they start Earth circling, too? Letting out a sigh, I know I can’t take this on, so I whisper a simple prayer, “God save the pods.” When every single thing on Earth is TMI, sometimes all we can do is pray.
Last night my dad group texted everyone a video on the Australian Cassowary, the most dangerous bird in the world. I’ve been on a major birds of prey bender, so I watch wide eyed as a pissed off cassowary power kicks the crap out of a dude holding a six foot shield. The Cassowary looks like a Velociraptor and its 5 inch talons will F YOU UP. Imagine if Wolverine suddenly became an emu—that’s a Cassowary.
After coffee, I brush my teeth in the mirror wearing a pair of Spanx that resemble a high school wrestling singlet. Instagram is full of models like Chrissy Tiegen sporting theirs, so I choose not to feel asexual in mine. I wear them because the promise of making me smoother, smaller and tighter is simply irresistible, plus I appreciate the cut out in the crotch for those times I need to pee or catch some D without the hassle of removing my underwear. It’s worth mentioning, Kim Kardashian once admitted that she often wees all over her Spanx because they aren’t crotchless enough, which gave me pause, but I continue to be a loyalist. The bottom line is this, Sarah Blakely, the creator of Spanx is an American treasure and the glory hole is a call to patriotism. I think I speak for all women everywhere, when I cry, GLORY, GLORY HOLE-ALELUJAH!
But enough about Spanx, there’s trouble afoot. My teeth don’t look white enough. I’m concerned my toothpaste isn’t providing adequate protection in the hard to reach places. I use the flashlight app to illuminate my teeth, uvula and tongue. I hope it isn’t throat cancer! Oh, God, I think I need an ambulance. “Siri, call 911.” I instruct her as my brain simultaneously reminds me 95% of doctors appointments are scheduled due to anxiety. “Siri, end call!” I scream punching my phone wildly to end emergency services.
You guys, it’s all too much! Everything is TMI. EVERYTHING! (especially my Spanx hole) Last week I heard Elon Musk explaining we are all cyborgs. He says we all have more power today through our handheld devices, than the president had 20 years ago. With technology at our fingertips we are all superhuman, mini-Ironmans with the capability to answer any question instantly, factor any calculation and access a perfect memory. In the year 2019, every 60 seconds, 18,100,000 texts were sent, 4,500,000 people were watching Youtube and #love was being posted 23,311 times. TMI, indeed. #Demibots.
I pull on a black dress and apply Kylie Jenner’s latest red lipstick in the hue of Mary
Jo K. In 2015, Kylie caused a massive lip liner shortage for Mac Cosmetics when her pumped-up-pout became a viral sensation and we all blew our lips up 10 sizes more. Speaking of which, did you guys see the inflatable Stormi-head she had custom made for her daughter’s first birthday? It has to be the most disturbing party entrance of all time! And where is that giant plastic head now? I bet it’s on the bottom of the ocean somewhere getting nibbled on by tuna. We’ll probably be eating pieces of that birthday party rolled up in our sushi for centuries to come! I’m going back vegan.
In exasperation from my own thoughts, I open Facebook and start scrolling. @Blake walked 17,567 steps and posted a pic of her pedometer. I like her post while wondering how many miles I have scrolled with my thumb. Maybe I should invent a thumometer!
⌚ 4,325 (thumbs) 16,345 (steps)
I stare at my screen and read the question at the top of my feed, “What’s On Your Mind?” and I laugh out loud. Oh, I don’t know. Hmmmmm, other than coffee pods, cassowaries, Spanx sex, demi-bots, Stormi’s inflatable party head and my digestion of it, how many thumbs I’ve thumbed……
And so I answer:
“I wonder if I’m the only one craving real books, the ones made out of actual paper that smell like the library and don’t expose me to radiation? You know, real books that don’t glow in the dark and notify me that @Jen is snow angel-ing live from Jackson Hole? In this techno-world we live in, we are all on overdrive and sometimes I just want to unplug myself like a lamp. And not just from social media, from everything. When did we stop kissing each other and start taking pictures of ourselves kissing mid-kiss, creating the kissing selfie? I’m worried it’s all making our relationships, relationshit! When did we start thinking in photos rather than moments? You would think with all of our superhuman knowledge, we’d be more mindful, but instead our thoughts, feelings and actions are being reduced to content. Petabytes and petabytes of it! Our emotions have become texts, our experiences are videos and it seems we are disappearing into the void like the Back To The Future polaroid.
Multiply this idea by 1,000 and our sex is now porn and I just have to say, EVERYBODY STOP MAKING PORN! We have enough to last us for another ten billion years. It’s empty, selfie-sex. Ladies, sew up your Spanx holes if you have to but don’t make a single second more!
Do ya’ll know 90 percent of ALL the data that has EVER BEEN CREATED in the HISTORY OF THE WORLD was created in the last two years? AND it isn’t lost on me that you are reading my feelings on a screen, right now, but it’s the world we live in and it’s not changing any time soon. (unless artificial intelligence kills us all, of course.) But, I digress. .
This Christmas, before @Mark calculates even more algorithms to keep us constantly comparing ourselves to each other 24 /7,
I’m signing a no-compete with the world and I call it
Santa’s (no-compete) Clause!
This year I don’t want any presents and I’m not giving any, either. All I want is presence, and that’s the one thing, THE ONLY THING social media and the endlessness of the internet can never give us.”
Nobody liked my post. But I did get a text from my husband that said, “Are you ok? I think you’re thinking too much again. I love you. Let’s turn off our brains and watch Game of Thrones tonight. I’ll bring home Panera. What episode are we on?” And with that, I reached for the White Noise App and turned on Vacuum.
Merry Christmas, my CASSOWARIES. 
I MADE A PRESENT FOR YOU BELOW!
Just scroll 20 thumbs down using your thumometer.
I’m putting this original printable you can only find here @goodgritmag under our tree this year in 4 envelopes. I hope you print it for yourself and the ones you love and make a written commitment to time unrivaled in 2020.
As for me and mine, we are going to cook from my grandmother’s handwritten recipe cards, sing songs in rounds in the car acapella like my mama used to do, get a pottery wheel and learn to throw clay, make vision boards, ride bikes on the beach, and my husband and I are gonna kiss without stopping mid-kiss under the mistletoe, which should lead to some pretty hot Spanx sex.
Sign the clause and let me know in the comments section how you hope to spend your unrivaled time and tag us @officialstace and @goodgritmag with your signed Santa Clauses. I can’t wait to see them and hear your ideas!
THIS NON-COMPETE (santa) CLAUSE
is entered into by _________ and__________and
THE WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD
We acknowledge that
THIS IS A FREE GIFT, THE ULTIMATE PRESENT OF PRESENCE, but though it’s free, it is very expensive. It will cost us time. The word time means the indefinite continued progress of existence. It is our most precious commodity. This Christmas shouldn’t we ask for it
UNRIVALED?
We, ____________ and___________ hereby commit ourselves to ___UNRIVALED TIME__together. We commit to restricting ourselves from competing with
THE WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD,
which seems to be endlessly vying for 5 minutes more.
for a period of _______
DAYS / HOURS / MINUTES
EACH WEEK
For a period of_______
WEEKS / MONTHS / YEARS
Individuals shall be restricted from competing with THE WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD, prohibiting access within a 1 TRILLION mile radius, from ANY INTERNET BASED DEVICES OF ANY KIND including laptops, computers, smart phones, smart pads, smart watches, smart tvs, smart consoles, smart glasses, smart whatevers, smart thingamabobs, and smart whoknowswhats of any kind ever created that we don’t even know are smart.
(THIS IS A PRINTABLE MADE BY STACE / @OFFICIALSTACE FOR @GOODGRITMAG)
