The Cat Daddy wanted me to rat out one of his fantasy football constituents who hasn't yet paid his/her fee for the fantasy-beyond-fantasy whatever it is that makes the whole thing even more fun. But I told him my blog would not be a venue for such humiliation.
That being said, if you are one of said constituents and still need to pay your fee, please do, so that I can get back to blogging about more important things, like heartburn, drugs, and answering nature's call in the wilds of Cheyenne. Yee-haw.
Stay tuned...
Sep 14, 2008
Sep 13, 2008
Why Sesame Street Rocks...
If you have any knowledge whatsoever of "High School Musical," you will love this. His Highness has never even heard of HSM, and he still got a big ol' kick out of it...
Sep 12, 2008
Feel the Feeling...
I wanted to clarify something from my post a few days ago. I do not equate living in Minot to having tuberculosis. I almost certainly would rather live in Minot than have tuberculosis. I think. It depends on the duration of each, and the success rate of treatment for TB, which I don't know all that much about. But I'm nearly positive I'd take Minot.
My point was the random nature of the statement. Being sent to Minot was a concern at one time, but is no longer up front on my radar, much like the possibility of catching TB. While it would not be a fun thing in my mind, it's not something I generally worry about. So to compare it to the things up front on my radar doesn't quite match up. It's like looking at someone's brown banana and saying "Hey, at least you don't have a bruised apple." Not having the bruised apple, while good, doesn't change the fact that there's still a brown banana to be dealt with, which many will agree is no fun when it comes to eating bananas. The silver lining, of course, is that smushed-up brown bananas make fantastic banana bread. But that's a post for another day.
I think we all can slip into this. When we're trying to help our friends feel better, sometimes we're also trying to make ourselves feel better. It's uncomfortable to see our friends' discomfort. Because discomfort is, by definition, uncomfortable. So to help everyone involved, we try to think of something really, really bad to help put things in perspective. And it is a noble thing to want to help our friends feel better. I just don't think "At least..." is the best way because, as my friend smiller pointed out, it tends to have the effect of minimizing our friends' feelings, sending the subtle (or not) message that they should or shouldn't feel a certain way. "How can you feel that way when when there's all this good stuff over here? What's wrong with you?"
But feelings don't work that way, even for math nerds. I don't get up daily, tally up the good & bad in my life, and see how they compare so that I can decide, logically and rationally, how I should feel that day. At any given moment I could have a myriad of feelings about countless observations and personal circumstances, without them conflicting. Or even several different feelings about a single event. Furthermore, the weight of any situation can vary vastly between two different people due to individual personality, or even within one person depending on mood or relation to other situations and their respective weights.
Which is all to say that when you try to quantify events and feelings to see how you should feel, it all gets very complicated, and honestly (and perhaps ironically?) I think it gives the feelings more power than they deserve. We can drive ourselves crazy trying to avoid negative feelings, but I think in the long run it's more productive to go "hey, I have that feeling," and allow ourselves to remain in the feeling for a bit, even when it hurts (and to throw an arm around our friends when they're in theirs). I think when we allow the bad feeling to come, it doesn't stay as long as it would if we desperately kept trying to ignore it or deny its existence altogether. Feelings like to bang on the door like obnoxious solicitors. They keep coming back until someone answers. Once you let them come in, and sit through their spiel, it's much more convincing when you send them on their way.
Not to get all freaky-deaky, or touchy-feely, or anything...
My point was the random nature of the statement. Being sent to Minot was a concern at one time, but is no longer up front on my radar, much like the possibility of catching TB. While it would not be a fun thing in my mind, it's not something I generally worry about. So to compare it to the things up front on my radar doesn't quite match up. It's like looking at someone's brown banana and saying "Hey, at least you don't have a bruised apple." Not having the bruised apple, while good, doesn't change the fact that there's still a brown banana to be dealt with, which many will agree is no fun when it comes to eating bananas. The silver lining, of course, is that smushed-up brown bananas make fantastic banana bread. But that's a post for another day.
I think we all can slip into this. When we're trying to help our friends feel better, sometimes we're also trying to make ourselves feel better. It's uncomfortable to see our friends' discomfort. Because discomfort is, by definition, uncomfortable. So to help everyone involved, we try to think of something really, really bad to help put things in perspective. And it is a noble thing to want to help our friends feel better. I just don't think "At least..." is the best way because, as my friend smiller pointed out, it tends to have the effect of minimizing our friends' feelings, sending the subtle (or not) message that they should or shouldn't feel a certain way. "How can you feel that way when when there's all this good stuff over here? What's wrong with you?"
But feelings don't work that way, even for math nerds. I don't get up daily, tally up the good & bad in my life, and see how they compare so that I can decide, logically and rationally, how I should feel that day. At any given moment I could have a myriad of feelings about countless observations and personal circumstances, without them conflicting. Or even several different feelings about a single event. Furthermore, the weight of any situation can vary vastly between two different people due to individual personality, or even within one person depending on mood or relation to other situations and their respective weights.
Which is all to say that when you try to quantify events and feelings to see how you should feel, it all gets very complicated, and honestly (and perhaps ironically?) I think it gives the feelings more power than they deserve. We can drive ourselves crazy trying to avoid negative feelings, but I think in the long run it's more productive to go "hey, I have that feeling," and allow ourselves to remain in the feeling for a bit, even when it hurts (and to throw an arm around our friends when they're in theirs). I think when we allow the bad feeling to come, it doesn't stay as long as it would if we desperately kept trying to ignore it or deny its existence altogether. Feelings like to bang on the door like obnoxious solicitors. They keep coming back until someone answers. Once you let them come in, and sit through their spiel, it's much more convincing when you send them on their way.
Not to get all freaky-deaky, or touchy-feely, or anything...
Sep 11, 2008
I Remember. Oh Yes I Do...
Sept 11, 2001--The Cat Daddy and I had just moved to Ohio to begin his first assignment. He had to go to work while I moved our pets and most basic belongings (we'd sent most everything with the movers) into our little apartment behind Wright State University.
As I was taking in the first load of stuff a college student came up to me and said, "Dude, did you hear?" and I said "What?" and he said "A plane just crashed into the pentagon," and I gave him a quizzical look, because I thought he looked like he might've been smoking the fancy cigarettes, and I just didn't know what to make of what he was saying. And he said "Just go turn on the TV."
Well, I didn't have a TV right then, so once I unloaded our little pickup truck I plugged in the clock-radio and the dog, cat, and I plopped ourselves on the living room floor and listened there. To be honest, I was just numb--I already felt displaced, and adding a national crisis on top of that was completely discombobulating.
I didn't have a cell phone at the time, but thankfully our land line had been hooked up and to his great credit the Cat Daddy called to keep me posted about how things were going on his end. At that point the base had been completely locked down, so we couldn't have gotten to each other if we'd tried.
And then of course I checked in with the fam (or maybe they checked in with me), because here's my husband, brand-new to the military, and we just didn't know what that looked like yet--so it was mostly a quick "yeah we're fine" and definitely "I love you."
Then I went to McDonalds because I needed lunch anyway, and they had TVs to watch. After hearing about it on the radio, actually seeing the footage was stunning. The mood everywhere was somber, and even a little eerie. Because the gravity of the situation was just so massive, and the situation itself was more than a little eerie.
The Cat Daddy made it home mid-afternoon, and we called our sponsors--now our good friends--the Bees, and they let us come over for the evening. I think we ate, and we talked, and we sat there in disbelief. Ohio was also where there were some loud bangs in the sky that day, which of course freaked us out all the more. I'm not sure that we ever found out exactly what happened, but the accepted story is that it was a couple of sonic booms from some AF planes taking off (possibly to help with Air Force One security). Where normally they'd have waited longer before going supersonic, they were probably in a hurry, intentionally or not.
Then we all went to find some ice cream. The initial plan was to go to Friendly's, but they were closed. As was most everyone else. McDonalds was still open, but believe it or not I think they were flat out of ice cream. Come to think of it, I'm not sure that we ended up with any ice cream at all that night. And I never made it back to Friendly's until several years later, when we were all living in Mass and I finally partook of the goodness with Mrs. Bee.
So that's where I was and how I remember the day...
As I was taking in the first load of stuff a college student came up to me and said, "Dude, did you hear?" and I said "What?" and he said "A plane just crashed into the pentagon," and I gave him a quizzical look, because I thought he looked like he might've been smoking the fancy cigarettes, and I just didn't know what to make of what he was saying. And he said "Just go turn on the TV."
Well, I didn't have a TV right then, so once I unloaded our little pickup truck I plugged in the clock-radio and the dog, cat, and I plopped ourselves on the living room floor and listened there. To be honest, I was just numb--I already felt displaced, and adding a national crisis on top of that was completely discombobulating.
I didn't have a cell phone at the time, but thankfully our land line had been hooked up and to his great credit the Cat Daddy called to keep me posted about how things were going on his end. At that point the base had been completely locked down, so we couldn't have gotten to each other if we'd tried.
And then of course I checked in with the fam (or maybe they checked in with me), because here's my husband, brand-new to the military, and we just didn't know what that looked like yet--so it was mostly a quick "yeah we're fine" and definitely "I love you."
Then I went to McDonalds because I needed lunch anyway, and they had TVs to watch. After hearing about it on the radio, actually seeing the footage was stunning. The mood everywhere was somber, and even a little eerie. Because the gravity of the situation was just so massive, and the situation itself was more than a little eerie.
The Cat Daddy made it home mid-afternoon, and we called our sponsors--now our good friends--the Bees, and they let us come over for the evening. I think we ate, and we talked, and we sat there in disbelief. Ohio was also where there were some loud bangs in the sky that day, which of course freaked us out all the more. I'm not sure that we ever found out exactly what happened, but the accepted story is that it was a couple of sonic booms from some AF planes taking off (possibly to help with Air Force One security). Where normally they'd have waited longer before going supersonic, they were probably in a hurry, intentionally or not.
Then we all went to find some ice cream. The initial plan was to go to Friendly's, but they were closed. As was most everyone else. McDonalds was still open, but believe it or not I think they were flat out of ice cream. Come to think of it, I'm not sure that we ended up with any ice cream at all that night. And I never made it back to Friendly's until several years later, when we were all living in Mass and I finally partook of the goodness with Mrs. Bee.
So that's where I was and how I remember the day...
Sep 9, 2008
Sep 7, 2008
At Least...
While driving along last week, out of nowhere, the Cat Daddy said, "Look at it this way--at least God still hasn't sent you to Minot."
At first I tried really hard to agree and said "True, and it looks like he probably won't either; wow I'm so thankful," but the more I thought about it the more it bothered me. Wanna know what my true, inner, gut-level response was that followed?
"Cat Daddy, that's like saying 'Look at it this way--at least God hasn't given you tuberculosis yet.'"
Did I mention I'm not in the best of emotional places at the moment?
I dunno. Of course I'm grateful for the things I have. I'm grateful for the good things about where we live, and the fact that I don't have a particularly harsh respiratory illness.
And let me say that the Cat Daddy was entirely well meaning. His statement normally wouldn't make me bat an eye, except for our current timing with having just moved and all.
It just seems to me that I'm in that place where I need to grieve the things we've left, gained, and left this past year, so that I can move on to accepting what's here and even find things to be excited about. My perspective is a bit skewed at the moment, but that does tend to happen when we move. The good thing is that it tends to work itself out over the next few weeks, months, etc. If I try to strongarm myself into seeing things a certain way, I might miss out on what really is. So I prefer to let it ride for the time being.
But hey, at least I don't have tuberculosis...
At first I tried really hard to agree and said "True, and it looks like he probably won't either; wow I'm so thankful," but the more I thought about it the more it bothered me. Wanna know what my true, inner, gut-level response was that followed?
"Cat Daddy, that's like saying 'Look at it this way--at least God hasn't given you tuberculosis yet.'"
Did I mention I'm not in the best of emotional places at the moment?
I dunno. Of course I'm grateful for the things I have. I'm grateful for the good things about where we live, and the fact that I don't have a particularly harsh respiratory illness.
And let me say that the Cat Daddy was entirely well meaning. His statement normally wouldn't make me bat an eye, except for our current timing with having just moved and all.
It just seems to me that I'm in that place where I need to grieve the things we've left, gained, and left this past year, so that I can move on to accepting what's here and even find things to be excited about. My perspective is a bit skewed at the moment, but that does tend to happen when we move. The good thing is that it tends to work itself out over the next few weeks, months, etc. If I try to strongarm myself into seeing things a certain way, I might miss out on what really is. So I prefer to let it ride for the time being.
But hey, at least I don't have tuberculosis...
Church Hunting--The Return...
Yes folks, today marked our second full Sunday in Cheyenne, and the first Sunday that we got our butts outta bed & went to church. In a movie theater. At the mall.
There are some fantastic advantages to this setup. To begin with, we arrived late. We were not late on purpose, but it occurred to me on the way there that it was probably a good tactic if we were going to keep up our bad-church-visitor-ness. I think I will try to keep being very-slightly-late until I get motivated to show up on time. But guess what? When you go to church at the mall on Sunday morning there's always plenty of parking, no matter how late you are.
Second, I don't know what the normal rental plans for movie theaters are, but this church occupied at least three "screens" that I'm aware of. Big church of course was in one. His Highness went to play with the toddlers in the front area of another, and in the process of finding the toddler room we managed to peek in on the kidz. They really spelled it that way on the signs, too. Because Z's are cool. That's all to say that there was plenty of room for everyone to spread out.
I was only mildly disappointed to find the concession stand closed. I think that would be a fantastic lure for unsuspecting seekers--free candy! It could be that there was free candy for those who showed up on time, but we'll never know. Unless we decide to show up on time, I guess.
In case I haven't mentioned it before, Cheyenne's population is very diverse in its occupation of the hipness & coolness spectrum. Up to now, we'd seen quite a variety of folks, but now we know that approximately 85% of the hip & cool people (the Christian ones, anyway) go to this church, and that most of them sit in the front section where no one likes to sit during a movie because of neck strain. Since we were late, we had to rely on the ushers to find us 2 open seats, which happened to be right among the hip & cool people. I did feel a touch more hip & cool after that.
So the general feel of this church is hip & cool, and not churchy at all, which as I've said before, is where we tend to gravitate. Rockin' music, casual feel, and all that. No one even turned to look when I got out my string cheese for a mid-morning munch. Most everyone was dressed casually, although I did notice a few ladies doing the nice-sweater-and pants thing, and one guy in the hip & cool section had a full suit on. Which was kinda cool. As I glanced around I spotted a sufficient number of tattoos to feel comfortable. The pastor was, like, a walking advertisement for hip & cool. Shaved head, cool specs, appropriately-distressed jeans. I thought I saw an earring in his left cartilage, but he had the cool earpiece-microphone in the way, so I couldn't tell for sure. He was also a walking advertisement for the church, as his (very hip & cool) shirt had the name of the church on it.
So, music--cool. Communion right after music--an interesting variation, but fine by me. They passed around these cool trays which held the cups and the bread, and the "bread" was a sort of hybrid between the thin wafers and Chiclets. I gotta say, I like when churches use real bread (French--yum), but since it's really about Jesus and not luscious loaves I got over it real quick. Besides, I still had my string cheese and was waiting until the message to break it out.
The message...sort of made me tired. The theme started out as "Lost," and finding one's place in God's kingdom, but then the pastor talked about the parable of the sown seeds, with the 4 different results, and whatnot. Which is an awesome passage, and I get what he was saying, I think. I'm not sure how it related to the "Lost" theme, but what it boiled down to was "Here are 4 different people. Don't be the bad three, be the good one!" and the he sort of left it there. And I sort of felt like saying, "How do I become the good one?" And anytime I'm left alone with that question it leaves me with the impression that I'm supposed to arbitrarily try harder, and the message of trying harder never sits well with me.
Now let me qualify this and say that I'm not in the best of places emotionally right now, so my perspective is likely skewed somewhat. Or a lot. If I cornered the pastor and started quizzing him about it, that would be rather presumptuous of me. But if I did it anyway, and if he overlooked my presumption, it's entirely possible that I'd hear God's grace coming thru loud & clear. Or maybe he's going to address it next week, I dunno. Plus, unless you're attending someone's personal manifesto lecture, I don't think it's wise to put a label on their theology based on one Sunday morning message.
There are some fantastic advantages to this setup. To begin with, we arrived late. We were not late on purpose, but it occurred to me on the way there that it was probably a good tactic if we were going to keep up our bad-church-visitor-ness. I think I will try to keep being very-slightly-late until I get motivated to show up on time. But guess what? When you go to church at the mall on Sunday morning there's always plenty of parking, no matter how late you are.
Second, I don't know what the normal rental plans for movie theaters are, but this church occupied at least three "screens" that I'm aware of. Big church of course was in one. His Highness went to play with the toddlers in the front area of another, and in the process of finding the toddler room we managed to peek in on the kidz. They really spelled it that way on the signs, too. Because Z's are cool. That's all to say that there was plenty of room for everyone to spread out.
I was only mildly disappointed to find the concession stand closed. I think that would be a fantastic lure for unsuspecting seekers--free candy! It could be that there was free candy for those who showed up on time, but we'll never know. Unless we decide to show up on time, I guess.
In case I haven't mentioned it before, Cheyenne's population is very diverse in its occupation of the hipness & coolness spectrum. Up to now, we'd seen quite a variety of folks, but now we know that approximately 85% of the hip & cool people (the Christian ones, anyway) go to this church, and that most of them sit in the front section where no one likes to sit during a movie because of neck strain. Since we were late, we had to rely on the ushers to find us 2 open seats, which happened to be right among the hip & cool people. I did feel a touch more hip & cool after that.
So the general feel of this church is hip & cool, and not churchy at all, which as I've said before, is where we tend to gravitate. Rockin' music, casual feel, and all that. No one even turned to look when I got out my string cheese for a mid-morning munch. Most everyone was dressed casually, although I did notice a few ladies doing the nice-sweater-and pants thing, and one guy in the hip & cool section had a full suit on. Which was kinda cool. As I glanced around I spotted a sufficient number of tattoos to feel comfortable. The pastor was, like, a walking advertisement for hip & cool. Shaved head, cool specs, appropriately-distressed jeans. I thought I saw an earring in his left cartilage, but he had the cool earpiece-microphone in the way, so I couldn't tell for sure. He was also a walking advertisement for the church, as his (very hip & cool) shirt had the name of the church on it.
So, music--cool. Communion right after music--an interesting variation, but fine by me. They passed around these cool trays which held the cups and the bread, and the "bread" was a sort of hybrid between the thin wafers and Chiclets. I gotta say, I like when churches use real bread (French--yum), but since it's really about Jesus and not luscious loaves I got over it real quick. Besides, I still had my string cheese and was waiting until the message to break it out.
The message...sort of made me tired. The theme started out as "Lost," and finding one's place in God's kingdom, but then the pastor talked about the parable of the sown seeds, with the 4 different results, and whatnot. Which is an awesome passage, and I get what he was saying, I think. I'm not sure how it related to the "Lost" theme, but what it boiled down to was "Here are 4 different people. Don't be the bad three, be the good one!" and the he sort of left it there. And I sort of felt like saying, "How do I become the good one?" And anytime I'm left alone with that question it leaves me with the impression that I'm supposed to arbitrarily try harder, and the message of trying harder never sits well with me.
Now let me qualify this and say that I'm not in the best of places emotionally right now, so my perspective is likely skewed somewhat. Or a lot. If I cornered the pastor and started quizzing him about it, that would be rather presumptuous of me. But if I did it anyway, and if he overlooked my presumption, it's entirely possible that I'd hear God's grace coming thru loud & clear. Or maybe he's going to address it next week, I dunno. Plus, unless you're attending someone's personal manifesto lecture, I don't think it's wise to put a label on their theology based on one Sunday morning message.
Which brought us to the end of the service, the altar call which is possibly weekly but I don't know yet, and the shuffling to the entrance withOUT our feet sticking to the floor, which is almost unheard of in a movie theater and entirely pleasant. In going out we caught sight of the folks who sat in back (up in back--stadium seating, you know), and found a diversity more representative of the dynamic that is Cheyenne. Which tells me there are lotsa different types of folks who go to this church, which is a good sign to me. Letting people be themselves is a good thing, and different types of people all being comfortable together is even better.
We were supposed to get t-shirts for being new, but they were out. Truthfully, I was a little disappointed about that, because all the church tees I saw were really cool, and I can always use a cool tee.
Now the main drawback to doing church in a movie theater in the mall is simply the state of being a port-a-church. As we picked up His Highness we were both acutely aware of how much work these folks are putting into the weekly setup & teardown. The schlepping of the drums alone is quite a task. Which I believe is why they're not staying in the theater for long. They are currently working to get their new property ready, and at some point will be moving in there permanently. I have no idea what it looks like (although the chairs will be red--the pastor demo'd one today as part of his message illustration), but I know the relief of going from port-a-church to permanent home. It's nice, and I'm glad for them.
Anyway, I think we both liked it enough to come back, but I think personally I've got a long way to go as far as getting fully back into the church groove. Maybe not before I start attending regularly, but probably before I get solidly plugged in. I felt like I had a deer-in-the-headlights look about me for the first 10 minutes or so (Wait--what? I'm standing, and there's music, and I know I'm supposed to do something. Oh right, sing), before I relaxed a little into the worship songs. Maybe it's just the disequilibrium of being in a new place. Or the first-trimester-queasiness. Or the perceived pressure of finding a place to belong in an area where I don't quite feel like I belong. Who knows, but I think next time I'll bring along some Tums...
Sep 3, 2008
Peanut Butter Tongue...
I would just like to announce that, due to the ridiculously sensitive nature of my gag reflex at the moment, I have resorted to hiding my vitamins and such in a glob of peanut butter so that they will go down and, more importantly, stay there. Like I've done for my various dogs over the years. Because I'm awesome.
It works amazingly well, but I do have a very slight case of peanut-butter-tongue. Dang it...
It works amazingly well, but I do have a very slight case of peanut-butter-tongue. Dang it...
Mountain Time...
The Cat Daddy and I were discussing our new time zone, trying to orient ourselves among the lower 50 in the way of the clock. It still takes me a minute when I figure out the time difference between myself and others, especially those in Arizona. This is because I grew up in Arizona, where the time doesn't change. And I prefer it that way.
So, for most of our tenure in CA we were on the same time as AZ, but now we're an hour ahead, until November 2, when we'll be the same time as AZ again and CA will be an hour earlier. And now we are always 2 hours behind our peeps on the East Coast, which is only one less hour difference than before, but somehow is way more bearable. For this reason I like living in the middle.
Our primetime starts at 7pm, just like the Central folks, and the TV show times do not change with the DST schedule. This is because, while people can adapt to changing the time completely, it would be simply inconceivable to adjust the TV schedules semi-annually. Not that there would be a reason to do such a thing; just something I wanted to point out.
Incidentally, this leaves the Central time zone as the only one we have yet to live in. I'm not sure how I feel about this. On one hand it would be nice to round out the Big Four along the way so I could speak from the greatest breadth of experience. Finally, after years of hearing "10:30, 9:30 Central" I would know firsthand the thought of "Oh, that's me," instead of having to wait for "10:30, 9:30 Central & Mountain," which always sounds to me like a reluctant inclusion. On the other hand, this adds a (very) small element of mystery to our lives, which some could (mis)construe as mildly nerve-wracking and/or exciting. What is it like in the Central zone? Are they regular people just like us? Or do they have some sort of knowledge the rest of us don't? Maybe. Or maybe it's just me.
Anyway, the discussion made me think of some friendly (I think) jabs my college roommate and I once exchanged on the topic. I said something snotty like "Yeah, AZ doesn't believe in arbitrarily changing the time," and she retorted "Well, at least we don't change time zones." At the time I didn't have a witty comeback. You could definitely look at it as Arizona switching between Mountain & Pacific times.
Now that I'm more educated on the DST sham/phenomenon (admittedly, from living it), however, I know the truth. Each zone vacillates between its respective standard and daylight time. Arizona, on the other hand, constantly remains on Mountain Standard Time. Everyone else: time & time zone change twice per year. Arizona: neither.
Now it's not like I want to get a time machine and go back to the original conversation and throw that little bit of insight in there--"Feh! Switch time zones? That's preposterous!"
OK maybe I do just a little bit. I'm just saying...
So, for most of our tenure in CA we were on the same time as AZ, but now we're an hour ahead, until November 2, when we'll be the same time as AZ again and CA will be an hour earlier. And now we are always 2 hours behind our peeps on the East Coast, which is only one less hour difference than before, but somehow is way more bearable. For this reason I like living in the middle.
Our primetime starts at 7pm, just like the Central folks, and the TV show times do not change with the DST schedule. This is because, while people can adapt to changing the time completely, it would be simply inconceivable to adjust the TV schedules semi-annually. Not that there would be a reason to do such a thing; just something I wanted to point out.
Incidentally, this leaves the Central time zone as the only one we have yet to live in. I'm not sure how I feel about this. On one hand it would be nice to round out the Big Four along the way so I could speak from the greatest breadth of experience. Finally, after years of hearing "10:30, 9:30 Central" I would know firsthand the thought of "Oh, that's me," instead of having to wait for "10:30, 9:30 Central & Mountain," which always sounds to me like a reluctant inclusion. On the other hand, this adds a (very) small element of mystery to our lives, which some could (mis)construe as mildly nerve-wracking and/or exciting. What is it like in the Central zone? Are they regular people just like us? Or do they have some sort of knowledge the rest of us don't? Maybe. Or maybe it's just me.
Anyway, the discussion made me think of some friendly (I think) jabs my college roommate and I once exchanged on the topic. I said something snotty like "Yeah, AZ doesn't believe in arbitrarily changing the time," and she retorted "Well, at least we don't change time zones." At the time I didn't have a witty comeback. You could definitely look at it as Arizona switching between Mountain & Pacific times.
Now that I'm more educated on the DST sham/phenomenon (admittedly, from living it), however, I know the truth. Each zone vacillates between its respective standard and daylight time. Arizona, on the other hand, constantly remains on Mountain Standard Time. Everyone else: time & time zone change twice per year. Arizona: neither.
Now it's not like I want to get a time machine and go back to the original conversation and throw that little bit of insight in there--"Feh! Switch time zones? That's preposterous!"
OK maybe I do just a little bit. I'm just saying...
Sep 2, 2008
Enchanted My Eye...
OK, since a certain Cat Daddy has spilled it to approximately half of my readership by now I might as well go public and say that Baby 2.0 is expected sometime around mid-April.
I get ultra-paranoid about the first trimester, so I don't like telling people early on. The Cat Daddy, on the other hand, would rather issue a press release and keep everyone informed of each little milestone, like on Babycenter. Just so you know, right now the kiddo is about the size of a kidney bean, and all the organs are formed. Not fully developed, but formed. Pretty cool if you ask me.
As for me, apparently things are going well because the day after we unloaded the moving truck, the first trimester knocked me on my a$$. With His Highness I didn't have morning sickness, per se. It was more like afternoon queasiness. With this one I seem to have all-day queasiness, but if anyone mentions twins, their reward will be a swift scissor kick to the head (patented by my blog buddy Bee). And I discovered yesterday that if anyone brings garlic within 10 feet of me (or mentions twins, apparently) they'd better be prepared to deal with the wrath of Skerrib.
It's hard to tell if the fatigue is kid-related or merely a result of the altitude. But by the time we're adjusted to the altitude, the other symptoms had better be history (do you hear me little one?!?). Then I can commence with the glowing and smiling serenely, and other things that make "enchanted" a lovely descriptor, especially compared with "pregnant," a term which I've never liked.
Moderate exercise seems to put off the queasies for a bit, so His Highness and I are going to see if we can get farther than 2 miles in 30 minutes this time. And there's a fresh crop of geocaches waiting for us, right in our neighborhood, so today will be #1. Ciao...
I get ultra-paranoid about the first trimester, so I don't like telling people early on. The Cat Daddy, on the other hand, would rather issue a press release and keep everyone informed of each little milestone, like on Babycenter. Just so you know, right now the kiddo is about the size of a kidney bean, and all the organs are formed. Not fully developed, but formed. Pretty cool if you ask me.
As for me, apparently things are going well because the day after we unloaded the moving truck, the first trimester knocked me on my a$$. With His Highness I didn't have morning sickness, per se. It was more like afternoon queasiness. With this one I seem to have all-day queasiness, but if anyone mentions twins, their reward will be a swift scissor kick to the head (patented by my blog buddy Bee). And I discovered yesterday that if anyone brings garlic within 10 feet of me (or mentions twins, apparently) they'd better be prepared to deal with the wrath of Skerrib.
It's hard to tell if the fatigue is kid-related or merely a result of the altitude. But by the time we're adjusted to the altitude, the other symptoms had better be history (do you hear me little one?!?). Then I can commence with the glowing and smiling serenely, and other things that make "enchanted" a lovely descriptor, especially compared with "pregnant," a term which I've never liked.
Moderate exercise seems to put off the queasies for a bit, so His Highness and I are going to see if we can get farther than 2 miles in 30 minutes this time. And there's a fresh crop of geocaches waiting for us, right in our neighborhood, so today will be #1. Ciao...
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