RIP Mr. Jobs

Tonight, I was laughing with friends at happy hour when my husband texted me – Steve Jobs is dead. 

Steve Jobs, for as long as I can remember, has been a legend. The man dressed in jeans and a basic black lturtleneck, had something that I envy, vision. He could see how the personal computer would change the world. And digital music players. And tablet computers. And smart phones. 

He was the icon of the computer revolution - not that I’d know. I’m not a geek. I’m a geek’s wife.

I have no business lamenting Mr. Jobs. I haven’t owned an Apple product since I was 12 years old – over 20 years. And yet, his leadership drove forward the world in which I live. He pushed forward personal computing, graphic design, computer animation, digital music and personal technology devices. 

It wasn’t always his own ideas the pushed forward. He admits that Woz (Steve Wozniak, a high school friend) actually invented the Apple I. But it was he who could see where it would take the world. 

He could see that a mouse would make computing something that non-geeks (like me) could grasp.

One of the comments that I’ll never forget was one Jobs made to the CEO of Pepsi, in an attempt to hire him away. “Do you want to stay here and push sugar water, or do you want to work for me and change the world?” He decided to change the world. 

I have no idea if that is an accurate quote. I have no intention of checking to see if it is.The point is, he was confident. And he had an amazing faith in himself. 

He wasn’t without fault. But death is not a time to count faults. It is a time to celebrate achievements.

I envied him. And always will. 

"Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life," he said in the 2005 Stanford speech. "Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure — these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important."

Wow. Have you lost weight?

On Monday, I had a doctor's appointment. Nothing serious, but as a matter of course, they took my weight. Yep, it matched the weight my scale had told me that morning and for most mornings for the better part of a year.

So I was quite surprised when I walked into our office lunchroom and someone yelled, "How much weight have you lost?"

Um, none. I indicated as such by making a zero with my thumb and index finger.

The same gal asked again "No, I mean, like since last summer?" Again, I answered with my fingers.

I was kinda embarrassed by this point, so when she asked "Then why do you always look so skinny?" I decided not to answer.

But, allow me to answer here. I am not the best dressed woman in the world, I don't always look skinny, and for the most part I leave my shapewear in the drawer.

Here's the big secret: I wear clothes that fit me. I know, crazy isn't it? Anyone who's watched at least six episodes of TLC's What Not to Wear knows that simple truth. So, why do we ladies not wear appropriately sized clothing?

Really, it's a NUMBER. And you look two sizes bigger when you don't wear the right number.

So why are we so obsessed with the number? For some reason, when I mention my size (no, I won't here) people are taken aback, like I'm lying. I'm not lying. I'm just not afraid of the number. I'm a girl with German and Belgian genes. There are some parts of me (my arms, for example) that are larger than others. If I drape fabric over those parts, it looks ok. If I stuff my large arms into small pieces of fabric like a sausage, guess what they look like? SAUSAGES.

There's the secret: I wear appropriately sized clothing. Wow. Call the press.