In the East Coast it's already 2011! Yay for getting rid of the suckiest year ever. Man, this year blows. And not just for me. A quick google search of "2010 sucks" yields over 426 million hits. That compares to the 31 million results for "2009 sucks," thus proving that 2010 Really Did Suck.
So I say good riddance. Only another 2.5 hours of you, you crummy year. And don't let the door hit you on the way out.
Ok. I want to stick to my App Fun schedule, and this week I want to say why I am now a big proponent of ebooks. A year ago I swore up and down that I would never get an ereader, you couldn't make me, I didn't care how big they got, I was sticking to paper, and nanny nanny boo boo to you. This year? I have a kindle. It all started with the kindle app for my droid, which I downloaded sometime over the summer.
See, the big reason why I'm a luddite about paper books isn't the whole "feel" of turning the pages, or anything like that. It's the fact that my main area to read books is in the bathtub. And there ain't no way I'm taking my kindle in the bathtub (although I have heard of someone who puts it in a ziploc to read in the hot tub).
But I realized there were a lot of times when I could read books during other times in the day, and there's always Vanity Fair for the bathtub. Or library books, though I shouldn't admit to that (listen, I'm really careful about it, and those water marks are not from me, I promise). I spend a lot of time driving, for example, and this being Southern California, you always have to leave more time than you need to get somewhere, so I also spend a lot of time waiting in my car. I can read then, and it'd be nice to not have to lug my books around with me.
Then the idea of space-saving really came around. As recently as June, I blogged about why I couldn't get into ebooks. The point of that blog entry was that, unlike cd's, you can't easily "rip" a book and put it onto your device. And I still think that Amazon should let me re-buy the kindle version of books that I already own at a discounted rate.
But then I got on this simplicity-kick, and I'm getting rid of stuff left and right. I own almost 1000 books, and they take up a crap-load of space. If I could have them all on one device - man, that would simplify my life (and additionally, it would let me gloat to my husband about how much more crap he owns than I do). So the kindle started to look appealing, at least in terms of buying new books.
Then I spent the weekend at a rock festival in the roasting-hot Fontana Raceway parking lot, almost dying of heat stroke. The upside was that I spent a lot of time sitting under the cooling tents where they had these mists floating down on you, and it was almost bearable. During that time, I read ebooks on my phone. And I realized that it wasn't that bad. And that was on a phone, without the awesome kindle e-ink screen.
After two full days of rocking out and phone-reading with no apparent lasting negative effects (the headache was as much from Rise Against as it was from reading on my phone) I decided to ask for a kindle for Christmas. And I officially stopped buying paper books.
I'm still in the predicament of wondering what to do with my current library. I've been buying copies of the books I already own at the rate of 1 every 2 weeks or so, and it really has made me examine the idea behind owning a book vs having access to it. I read a saying once to the effect of "try not to own too much because once you possess something, it also possesses you."
I've been hanging on to these books for so long, and why? Some of them have been moved 16 times. That's a crap-load of moving, if you ask me. And for what purpose? So I can look at them and feel smug because I read so much? To remind me how Haruki Murakami is a good replacement for chocolate? I don't know. There are some authors that I definitely want to revisit (like Haruki Murakami and Arthur Neresian) and I will probably wind up re-buying the books to have them on my kindle.
But there are so many that I read once, and I'm never going to read again. I don't know why I'm hanging on to them. So I have a new policy now of really examining a book, and if it's not worth the $9.99 to re-buy the kindle version, I'm going to just make a log of it, write down what I liked about it, and then donate it to someone else.
And then when we move the next time, I will have all my books on my little kindle, and feel very smug as J packs box after box of astronomy texts.
So the kindle app got me started on ebooks, and I'm glad of it. If you're into simplifying your life, and are open to the idea that you could radically change the way you feel about ownership vs access, then try it out.
And Happy 2011!
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Today Kicks Butt
 |
| Rock on, today. Rock on. |
Anyway, I got to do both before 1pm all in the same day. I got to finish up an 8 ounce tube of Soap and Glory body butter, AND throw away an empty Pilot Precise V7 RT gel pen. Today rocks.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
If you want to blow your mind...
Then I highly recommend Journey to the Edge of the Universe, which we just finished watching. So wrap your head around this - you know how when you look at a star, you're actually looking at the light from the star as it was when it left, however many lightyears ago? Like the star that you're looking at might be dead by now, and we wouldn't know until the light from the explosion got to us? (And on that topic, who discovered that the fuzz we see when we don't get reception on a tv set is actually leftover from the Big Bang? Who put that together? Actually, I know because it's covered in Bill Bryson's A Short History of Nearly Everything.)
But anyway, so this journeys out to the edge of the universe, which, since the universe is expanding outwards, is like going back through time to see the beginnings of everything, and also to see how our sun, and our solar system, galaxy, etc., will die eventually. This show was like pot for your brain. Oh, and black holes. OMG they are a mind-f*ck. They suck matter in, and keep shrinking at the same time so their density goes beserk. Something the size of a grain of sand can weigh bilions of tons. And Alec Baldwin narrated, which was kind of hard because I kept expecting him to have to talk to Lemon about his microwave oven programming, and whether Cabletown would buy NBC.
And in other science news, I just bought this shirt from thinkgeek.com, my new favorite online store. No one seems to be as impressed with it as I am, but whatever. I like it.
Trajectories
One of the things that is so weird about a pregnancy loss, especially (I think) if you don't have other children, is how strange it is to go back to your normal life. I think about how there were times, before June, when I was happy. Lots of times. Jonathan and I did all kinds of fun stuff. But then we were coming to live from the trajectory of not being pregnant, and not ever having been pregnant.
Then I was pregnant.
And now, I am not pregnant again, but I'm coming at it from the trajectory of having been pregnant. So it's all completely different now.
It's still J and I, like it always has been. But nothing is different. And yet everything is different. It's a complicated mind-blowing physics experiment - measuring the everything/nothingness rate of change in our lives now. The only physical changes are a drawer full of newborn clothes I bought, the cheap heart rate monitor and Burt's Bees Mama Bee belly rub. That's pretty much it. Oh, and a breast pump from when my milk came in. So four physical differences. And yet nothing is the same at all.
I'm thinking about it because I was cleaning out my closet and came face to face with a bunch of my maternity clothes. I'm such a dope - I bought a whole fall/winter pregnancy wardrobe. Even if I got pregnant today, I wouldn't need pregnancy clothes until March or so, so all these heavy sweaters will go unworn. Lesson learned. Only buy as you need. The books say that, but I didn't listen. I decided it would be a good deal to order a ton and combine shipping to save money. Silly me.
I sure hope I can wear these preggo jeans again soon. I wonder how many women are pining for maternity clothes right now? Yearning for elastic. Because elastic equals pregnancy. At least in my equations. Ahh, beautiful Motherhood pregnancy jeans that are getting slightly frayed at the ankle, I will wear you again soon, I hope.
Then I was pregnant.
And now, I am not pregnant again, but I'm coming at it from the trajectory of having been pregnant. So it's all completely different now.
It's still J and I, like it always has been. But nothing is different. And yet everything is different. It's a complicated mind-blowing physics experiment - measuring the everything/nothingness rate of change in our lives now. The only physical changes are a drawer full of newborn clothes I bought, the cheap heart rate monitor and Burt's Bees Mama Bee belly rub. That's pretty much it. Oh, and a breast pump from when my milk came in. So four physical differences. And yet nothing is the same at all.
I'm thinking about it because I was cleaning out my closet and came face to face with a bunch of my maternity clothes. I'm such a dope - I bought a whole fall/winter pregnancy wardrobe. Even if I got pregnant today, I wouldn't need pregnancy clothes until March or so, so all these heavy sweaters will go unworn. Lesson learned. Only buy as you need. The books say that, but I didn't listen. I decided it would be a good deal to order a ton and combine shipping to save money. Silly me.
I sure hope I can wear these preggo jeans again soon. I wonder how many women are pining for maternity clothes right now? Yearning for elastic. Because elastic equals pregnancy. At least in my equations. Ahh, beautiful Motherhood pregnancy jeans that are getting slightly frayed at the ankle, I will wear you again soon, I hope.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Oh, and if you're wondering...
...where all my miscarriage grief went, don't fear, it's still hanging around. I have started a blog over at Open Salon where I blog exclusively about my miscarriage. I think that's appropriate. This blog has been around, in various iterations, for almost 8 years. I want Baby T to have his own place where I can grieve for him in a venue that's unique from the place where I used to blog about bad dates. So check it out if you want to stew in grief for a while. One of my posts was already made an Editor's Pick. Go grief go!
The more things change...
I've been listening to Bill Bryson's Home, a Social History of Private Life for a while now, and just finished it yesterday. I love Bill Bryson. I first discovered him when Notes from a Big Country (known in the US as I'm a Stranger Here Myself) was recommended to me. It's a collection of his newspaper columns from the first few years after he moved back to the US after spending 20 years in the UK. I had only been in the UK for two years, but I already identified with much of his wonder and curiosity of life in the US. The first time I walked into a Wal-Mart when I got back to the US, for example, is a time I will never forget. I was blown away. Why do they need three aisles for cereal and granola bars? At my local Tesco Metro, there's like 6 kinds to choose from, and that was plenty for me. Capitalism run amok, say I.
Anyway, my old buddy Bill Bryson is currently living back in the UK, and writing more interesting books than ever. Home is a journey through each of the rooms of his house, where he manages to expound upon things such as why we have salt and pepper shakers, and not salt and cinnamon. Or is it true that the Victorians, as they like to claim, really invented childhood? And what about paint. What's the deal with our desire to paint walls, and how did we do it before modern technology? And when did we start putting ice in our drinks, anyway?
Bill Bryson is perfect for my ADD-ness because any time I start to get even slightly bored with a topic, we're on to another one, lickety-split.
So the final chapter was about archeology and how people have cared for their historical monuments throughout history. It turns out, we haven't cared for them very well at all. In fact, Stonehenge was very nearly impaled by a railroad track, it being decided to be "useless in the modern day." During the agricultural failure of the 1870's when English crops failed miserably several years in a row, almost 2,000 historical stately homes were literally taken apart, board by board, and shipped to wealthy Americans like the Vanderbilt's, Mellon's and Astor's. Stonehenge - seemingly always in danger - was almost shipped to the US to be part of a theme park!
I think that's pretty much of a travesty.
But here's a gem. Finally around the mid-19th-century many English nobility were starting to realize that they should care about their historical treasures. And, you know, maybe make them public owned.
The landowners did not like this. It was government takeover of private land! How dare the government tell people what to do with their land, whether there was something of national interest on their land or not. What about property rights?! Of course, the term Socialism didn't have the same sting then that it does today, but I can imagine that if that were proposed today, the proponents would be getting the S-bomb dropped all over them.
The Ancient Monuments Protection Act was finally passed through Parliament in 1882, and it provided for an Inspector of Ancient Monuments who would identify items of historical interest and give them government protection, attempting to take them into public lands. It was slow going at first - the first Inspector General - Augustus Pitt Rivers - served from 1882 until his death in 1900, and identified only around 40 monuments that should be protected - barely 2 a year. Now there are over 19,000 items on the register.
This is why I like Jon Stewart and the growing movement of reasonableness amongst people (like me) who are disgusted with the Tea Party Fascists. I think that we can all agree that Stonehenge should not have a railway running through it. So that leads me to believe that everyone could agree that there are at least some pieces of private land, or private property rights, that should be taken into public custody for the good of society at large. So then we can have a civilized discussion of what makes something worthy of being taken into public custody, and come to some reasonable consensus. We won't get there, though, with Tea Party Nutso's wanting to do away with government completely.
It just makes me laugh when I hear about people freaking out over the loss of rights 130 years ago. This discussion is not new. I'm sure the Romans had similar discussions about what belonged in the public arena, and what should stay private. There are some things that benefit all society - like roads, infrastructure, libraries, education, defense - which we seem to have agreed on should not be largely in private ownership where profits and shareholders are the number one concern. There are some areas where profits need to be set aside for a greater good for society. I contend that health care is one of those areas as well, though I know many disagree with me. The point is that once we can agree that there are some things that shouldn't be profit-driven, we can sit down and hammer out the details.
But you can't do that if you're just calling everything Socialist all the time.
Still, it's nice to see that those 19,000 monuments are protected, regardless of the freakouts of the landed nobility. Things move forward towards the greater good, and eventually we will have national healthcare, despite all the fear-mongering-death-paneling of the Tea Party. It's just a shame for the 2,000 stately homes that the UK didn't protect them sooner.
Anyway, my old buddy Bill Bryson is currently living back in the UK, and writing more interesting books than ever. Home is a journey through each of the rooms of his house, where he manages to expound upon things such as why we have salt and pepper shakers, and not salt and cinnamon. Or is it true that the Victorians, as they like to claim, really invented childhood? And what about paint. What's the deal with our desire to paint walls, and how did we do it before modern technology? And when did we start putting ice in our drinks, anyway?
Bill Bryson is perfect for my ADD-ness because any time I start to get even slightly bored with a topic, we're on to another one, lickety-split.
So the final chapter was about archeology and how people have cared for their historical monuments throughout history. It turns out, we haven't cared for them very well at all. In fact, Stonehenge was very nearly impaled by a railroad track, it being decided to be "useless in the modern day." During the agricultural failure of the 1870's when English crops failed miserably several years in a row, almost 2,000 historical stately homes were literally taken apart, board by board, and shipped to wealthy Americans like the Vanderbilt's, Mellon's and Astor's. Stonehenge - seemingly always in danger - was almost shipped to the US to be part of a theme park!
I think that's pretty much of a travesty.
But here's a gem. Finally around the mid-19th-century many English nobility were starting to realize that they should care about their historical treasures. And, you know, maybe make them public owned.
The landowners did not like this. It was government takeover of private land! How dare the government tell people what to do with their land, whether there was something of national interest on their land or not. What about property rights?! Of course, the term Socialism didn't have the same sting then that it does today, but I can imagine that if that were proposed today, the proponents would be getting the S-bomb dropped all over them.
The Ancient Monuments Protection Act was finally passed through Parliament in 1882, and it provided for an Inspector of Ancient Monuments who would identify items of historical interest and give them government protection, attempting to take them into public lands. It was slow going at first - the first Inspector General - Augustus Pitt Rivers - served from 1882 until his death in 1900, and identified only around 40 monuments that should be protected - barely 2 a year. Now there are over 19,000 items on the register.
This is why I like Jon Stewart and the growing movement of reasonableness amongst people (like me) who are disgusted with the Tea Party Fascists. I think that we can all agree that Stonehenge should not have a railway running through it. So that leads me to believe that everyone could agree that there are at least some pieces of private land, or private property rights, that should be taken into public custody for the good of society at large. So then we can have a civilized discussion of what makes something worthy of being taken into public custody, and come to some reasonable consensus. We won't get there, though, with Tea Party Nutso's wanting to do away with government completely.
It just makes me laugh when I hear about people freaking out over the loss of rights 130 years ago. This discussion is not new. I'm sure the Romans had similar discussions about what belonged in the public arena, and what should stay private. There are some things that benefit all society - like roads, infrastructure, libraries, education, defense - which we seem to have agreed on should not be largely in private ownership where profits and shareholders are the number one concern. There are some areas where profits need to be set aside for a greater good for society. I contend that health care is one of those areas as well, though I know many disagree with me. The point is that once we can agree that there are some things that shouldn't be profit-driven, we can sit down and hammer out the details.
But you can't do that if you're just calling everything Socialist all the time.
Still, it's nice to see that those 19,000 monuments are protected, regardless of the freakouts of the landed nobility. Things move forward towards the greater good, and eventually we will have national healthcare, despite all the fear-mongering-death-paneling of the Tea Party. It's just a shame for the 2,000 stately homes that the UK didn't protect them sooner.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Funny Local News: Holiday Spending Edition
Dude, Dave Dunn is working for me, live on the Plaza! Poor Megan couldn't get anything for her dorm room. And Banana Republic is still open! Woot! I do love the Seamless Vinyl Siding ad, too. The guy sounds so convincing when he says to Call Now. Heck, I want to call him, and I don't even need any Seamless Vinyl Siding!
Utah shoppers are all a-twitter too! Apparently the Build-a-Bear's are on a rampage there, though. One lady was very excited to have escaped Build-a-Bear. And seriously, why not just go for it, right?
Honestly, aren't the newscasters supposed to be telling you the news, and not encouraging the same consumerism that got the economy into such a mess? Last time I checked, the Christmas angels did not say unto the shepherds, "Go ye to Bethlehem, and then get ye to Macy's where ye can find sportswear ye probably don't need for 50% off, especially since ye just got a sh*tload of stuff ye probably also don't need the day before for Christmas."
Utah shoppers are all a-twitter too! Apparently the Build-a-Bear's are on a rampage there, though. One lady was very excited to have escaped Build-a-Bear. And seriously, why not just go for it, right?
Video Courtesy of KSL.com
Honestly, aren't the newscasters supposed to be telling you the news, and not encouraging the same consumerism that got the economy into such a mess? Last time I checked, the Christmas angels did not say unto the shepherds, "Go ye to Bethlehem, and then get ye to Macy's where ye can find sportswear ye probably don't need for 50% off, especially since ye just got a sh*tload of stuff ye probably also don't need the day before for Christmas."
Thursday, December 23, 2010
App Fun: Caroling Edition
When I first got my android phone, I think I started blogging about some of my favorite apps. At least, I think I meant to.
My favorite app this week is the Classic FM app. When I lived in the UK I didn't have a TV (they have the nerve to tax television sets there, and the money goes to the BBC to provide some of the best quality programming on the planet...Sarah Palin would have a field day with that one, I'm sure) and I was broke, so I spent a lot of time listening to the radio. Classic FM is the "pop" station for classical music. They don't play full works (except for an hour or two every evening, they have the Full Works concert hour). They have commercials. They have a bright glossy magazine that comes out every month with a sample CD.
They even have the chutzpah to have a personals site. I can see the first dates with that one. Me: "You said you like Gombert in your profile, but now that we meet in person, I don't think you know anything about Gombert. Were you just bulking up your profile?" Them: "Yes, well, you would say that, wouldn't you? Anyone who lists the second movement of Beethoven's 7th as her favorite piece of music would be judgmental and moody, wouldn't they?" Me: "Lemon Tart? But you like Chopin?!"
So anyway, they have an app. It's especially fun to listen while I'm driving to work because, seeing as they are based in London, which is 8 hours ahead of LA, they are doing the traffic reports for the commute home just as I am stuck at the 605. I can pretend that they're talking in code, and the M25 really means the 210, and I'm actually really in London, but speaking a different language. And without any Muji stores. It's also fun to listen in the evening when it's the wee hours of the morning for them, and people working funny shifts are texting in requests for things to keep them awake, just as I'm trying to wind down.
Last night was the most fun I've had with the app. It's Christmas time, and classical music goes well with Christmas, so they've been having fun playing lots of choral pieces and such. I was making dinner, puttering around in the kitchen (or, I should say, faffing, seeing as how I'm pretending to be British here) with Classic FM playing in the background, and the rain was pouring down, and I was leaning against the counter drinking my gingerbread herbal tea, and for a moment I was 24 and still in Finsbury Park, and I was interested in the delays on the Northern Line because I would be going to the heath in the morning, and Jan was taking pictures of flowers in the living room, and later on we'd polish off a bottle of cheap red from Odd Bins and I probably wouldn't go to the heath in the morning anyway because I'd have a hangover.
And then a cat walked past and purred and I was back in my kitchen, but the delays on the Northern Line were still interesting because I didn't have to go trudging out to brave the elements.
So the Classic FM app is really a time-travel app, which I think is super cool. If you're not into classical music, you might also try the Capital FM app, which has similar powers of teleportation, only via pop music.
My favorite app this week is the Classic FM app. When I lived in the UK I didn't have a TV (they have the nerve to tax television sets there, and the money goes to the BBC to provide some of the best quality programming on the planet...Sarah Palin would have a field day with that one, I'm sure) and I was broke, so I spent a lot of time listening to the radio. Classic FM is the "pop" station for classical music. They don't play full works (except for an hour or two every evening, they have the Full Works concert hour). They have commercials. They have a bright glossy magazine that comes out every month with a sample CD.
They even have the chutzpah to have a personals site. I can see the first dates with that one. Me: "You said you like Gombert in your profile, but now that we meet in person, I don't think you know anything about Gombert. Were you just bulking up your profile?" Them: "Yes, well, you would say that, wouldn't you? Anyone who lists the second movement of Beethoven's 7th as her favorite piece of music would be judgmental and moody, wouldn't they?" Me: "Lemon Tart? But you like Chopin?!"
So anyway, they have an app. It's especially fun to listen while I'm driving to work because, seeing as they are based in London, which is 8 hours ahead of LA, they are doing the traffic reports for the commute home just as I am stuck at the 605. I can pretend that they're talking in code, and the M25 really means the 210, and I'm actually really in London, but speaking a different language. And without any Muji stores. It's also fun to listen in the evening when it's the wee hours of the morning for them, and people working funny shifts are texting in requests for things to keep them awake, just as I'm trying to wind down.
Last night was the most fun I've had with the app. It's Christmas time, and classical music goes well with Christmas, so they've been having fun playing lots of choral pieces and such. I was making dinner, puttering around in the kitchen (or, I should say, faffing, seeing as how I'm pretending to be British here) with Classic FM playing in the background, and the rain was pouring down, and I was leaning against the counter drinking my gingerbread herbal tea, and for a moment I was 24 and still in Finsbury Park, and I was interested in the delays on the Northern Line because I would be going to the heath in the morning, and Jan was taking pictures of flowers in the living room, and later on we'd polish off a bottle of cheap red from Odd Bins and I probably wouldn't go to the heath in the morning anyway because I'd have a hangover.
And then a cat walked past and purred and I was back in my kitchen, but the delays on the Northern Line were still interesting because I didn't have to go trudging out to brave the elements.
So the Classic FM app is really a time-travel app, which I think is super cool. If you're not into classical music, you might also try the Capital FM app, which has similar powers of teleportation, only via pop music.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Come into the light
One of the best things I got from working for Lynne Franks in the UK was the introduction to Bliss, aka Lucinda Drayton. Her story is pretty amazing - she had been a successful popular singer and got drained from the whole music industry world. She decided to quit it all and become independent, writing her own music, producing her own records, and playing at mind/body/soul types of festivals. She's made it work, and is a complete inspiration to me. I used to listen to her 100,000 Angels album when I was trying to remember to breathe during the crazy Lynne days, and Come into the Light was particularly good for my spirit. I highly recommend you check her out on youtube, and even better, buy her album.
So tonight I did something I haven't done in years - I read my tarot cards. Now before anybody starts worrying that I'm into the occult, I'm not. When I was a kid in Amish Country I remember everybody was all freaked out by ouija boards, and I always wondered what the big deal was with a piece of cardboard. I mean, seriously, it was mass-produced in a factory somewhere. People sometimes get all worked up over inanimate objects, and then wind up giving those objects much more power than they deserve.
It's a fact that we use a tiny infantesimal part of our brains; and more than tapping into the supernatural, I think that tarot cards are a way to get access to the giant part of my brain that I don't ever use. It's kind of like meditation. It helps me focus my mind into a specific question, and lets me explore different ways of looking at that question. When I was younger, in college and just after, I used to read my cards almost every week. I don't believe that the cards can actually tell me what's going to happen in my future. Let me be clear about that - they're cardboard. They're not magic.
You could pull up almost any card and figure out a way that it applies to your question or situation. But that's where the coolness comes in; they offer dozens of ways of looking at a particular situation, and you could get perspectives and insights that you've never considered just by applying the card to your question.
The thing I want to share is my Final Outcome card in my reading tonight. My question wasn't particularly specific - I wanted to focus on how I could create something meaningful in my life now that we've been through the death of our baby. How could I take that and turn it into something more, something that would last and make a difference in the world.
So I did a 10-card spread, with cards to represent your current situation, the conflict in the situation, past influences, future influences, etc. There are ten cards you draw, out of a deck of 78, and each one goes into a position that represents a particular aspect of the question you ask. The Final Outcome card doesn't mean that it's definitely how your life is going to go, but just that if you continue on the path your're on, it's probably where that path will go.
My Final Outcome card was The Star. The book explains that, 'the Star, when it appears in a spread, portends the experience of hope, meaning and faith in the midst of difficulties. Though it can be ambivalent and warn against blind hope without the necessary action to build upon it, the Star is an augury of promise, a welcome experience for one who has passed through the collapse of everything which he believed to be of value in life.'
The rest of the reading suggested that I will be having a period of solitary withdrawal, starting my new projects on my own and building up strength before going back out into the world. It's called winter and hibernation, I guess.
I'm pretty stoked that I'm on track to be even more of an introvert for a while. It's time to be quiet and cozy for a while before spring brings me back to life.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
A Room of One's Own
My hubby and I are both only children. I loved being an only child. In fact, I'm slightly afraid of having more than one child myself, because I'm just not sure how that dynamic would work. I had lots of imaginary friends, and talking stuffed animals (I still do, and feel bad for anyone who doesn't!). Plus, from the time I was about 10, we had an awesome Boxer, who snuggled with me until I was in high school and he got sick and peed all over the house, so we had to restrict his living spaces, poor guy.
Anyway, I say that because J and I are kind of weird, as far as married couples go, in terms of how we use our space. And yes, we're weird in other ways, too. Come on, I'm quicker than that. I saw that one coming a mile away.
Ok, so we're weird in terms of our allocation of space in that we each have our "own" rooms. We have a two bedroom house. The bedroom is "his" in that all of his stuff is there. His clothes, his baseball bobble heads, his giant baseball card collection, and so on. Our home office is "my room" in that I keep all my stuff there - handbags, books, notebooks, pens, makeup, jewelry, etc. The living room is shared, though that being said, it houses Boy Things like the TV, Playstation, etc.
This presented a bit of a conundrum when we were expecting. We always assumed that the home office would become the nursery. My desk and work area could be moved to the living room. But where would that leave me to put my girly stuff? The thought of combining stuff in the bedroom has honestly never crossed my mind. I'm an only child like that.
We have an attic space that goes over most of the house. There are no stairs up to this space, but J can climb up one of our bookshelves to get up there (he used to rock climb) and we would bring in a ladder for big jobs, like taking down Christmas decorations. J also built a ramp for the cats so that they can get up and have all that space for themselves, undisturbed by the lesser species of human with whom they cohabit.
This attic is much more of a crawl space. It is a-shaped, and at it's very highest point it's about 4 feet high. Not really a dancing spot. But I thought I could create a perfect Girly Nook in part of the attic. I just needed to be able to get up and down easily. So in mid-October - actually, the Saturday before I miscarried - J installed one of those fold-in-the-ceiling ladders like Chevy Chase had in the National Lampoons Christmas Vacation. It folds down into the kitchen, and is easily climbable for a heights-wimp like me.
I ignored the Girly Nook for a while because it brought back too many memories of being pregnant. Now that we weren't having a baby, I still had lots of time to enjoy having my own room, with all my things intact in that room. But slowly, I'm discovering the joy of my attic Girly Nook.
When I was sixteen, my parents finished off our own attic and I moved my room up there. It was actually two rooms, and probably 6 and a half feet tall at the highest point, so easily standable for most of it. My parents put bookshelves in the middle, dividing it into two rooms; a little teenaged-girly-haven-suite. They also put in a skylight, so I could lay underneath it in the rain and write my "cellophane-wrapped-soul" poetry while watching the rain come down. It was awesome, and I loved it.
My Girly Nook here isn't going to be a replacement for that one, and I'm still going to have to figure out where to put most of my stuff when a baby comes. An attic nook is no place for my handbags, for example. If my Simplification Quest continues on pace, though, I shouldn't have as much stuff to worry about (I'm trying to get back to the way I was in the days when I could move to England with three albeit-giant suitcases).
So I put down a colorful rug, got a beanbag chair, hung up fairy lights, put in one small bookcase, with another one waiting to be put together, and made a little meditation spot on an ikea coffee table. This has become my new favorite place to sit and think. The cats aren't used to me being up here yet, though. They still stare at me and give me glowering looks, the unwelcome intruder that I am. Once we have a baby, I'm hoping I can still come up here to have some quiet and be around my favorite books, journals, pens, and pictures.
Here's a picture taken with my cell phone of my Girly Nook. Oh, a note on the stickers on the wall - about 20 years ago a family lived here and they had teenage boys. The boys put those stickers up on the wall, and I don't want to take them down because it's part of the history and spirit of the place.
I'm sitting in the Girly Nook right now, listening to the monsoon outside, and drinking my hot cocoa. It's warm, cozy, and very comforting. Kind of like a bubblebath, but without your skin getting all pruny.
Anyway, I say that because J and I are kind of weird, as far as married couples go, in terms of how we use our space. And yes, we're weird in other ways, too. Come on, I'm quicker than that. I saw that one coming a mile away.
Ok, so we're weird in terms of our allocation of space in that we each have our "own" rooms. We have a two bedroom house. The bedroom is "his" in that all of his stuff is there. His clothes, his baseball bobble heads, his giant baseball card collection, and so on. Our home office is "my room" in that I keep all my stuff there - handbags, books, notebooks, pens, makeup, jewelry, etc. The living room is shared, though that being said, it houses Boy Things like the TV, Playstation, etc.
This presented a bit of a conundrum when we were expecting. We always assumed that the home office would become the nursery. My desk and work area could be moved to the living room. But where would that leave me to put my girly stuff? The thought of combining stuff in the bedroom has honestly never crossed my mind. I'm an only child like that.
We have an attic space that goes over most of the house. There are no stairs up to this space, but J can climb up one of our bookshelves to get up there (he used to rock climb) and we would bring in a ladder for big jobs, like taking down Christmas decorations. J also built a ramp for the cats so that they can get up and have all that space for themselves, undisturbed by the lesser species of human with whom they cohabit.
This attic is much more of a crawl space. It is a-shaped, and at it's very highest point it's about 4 feet high. Not really a dancing spot. But I thought I could create a perfect Girly Nook in part of the attic. I just needed to be able to get up and down easily. So in mid-October - actually, the Saturday before I miscarried - J installed one of those fold-in-the-ceiling ladders like Chevy Chase had in the National Lampoons Christmas Vacation. It folds down into the kitchen, and is easily climbable for a heights-wimp like me.
I ignored the Girly Nook for a while because it brought back too many memories of being pregnant. Now that we weren't having a baby, I still had lots of time to enjoy having my own room, with all my things intact in that room. But slowly, I'm discovering the joy of my attic Girly Nook.
When I was sixteen, my parents finished off our own attic and I moved my room up there. It was actually two rooms, and probably 6 and a half feet tall at the highest point, so easily standable for most of it. My parents put bookshelves in the middle, dividing it into two rooms; a little teenaged-girly-haven-suite. They also put in a skylight, so I could lay underneath it in the rain and write my "cellophane-wrapped-soul" poetry while watching the rain come down. It was awesome, and I loved it.
My Girly Nook here isn't going to be a replacement for that one, and I'm still going to have to figure out where to put most of my stuff when a baby comes. An attic nook is no place for my handbags, for example. If my Simplification Quest continues on pace, though, I shouldn't have as much stuff to worry about (I'm trying to get back to the way I was in the days when I could move to England with three albeit-giant suitcases).
So I put down a colorful rug, got a beanbag chair, hung up fairy lights, put in one small bookcase, with another one waiting to be put together, and made a little meditation spot on an ikea coffee table. This has become my new favorite place to sit and think. The cats aren't used to me being up here yet, though. They still stare at me and give me glowering looks, the unwelcome intruder that I am. Once we have a baby, I'm hoping I can still come up here to have some quiet and be around my favorite books, journals, pens, and pictures.
Here's a picture taken with my cell phone of my Girly Nook. Oh, a note on the stickers on the wall - about 20 years ago a family lived here and they had teenage boys. The boys put those stickers up on the wall, and I don't want to take them down because it's part of the history and spirit of the place. I'm sitting in the Girly Nook right now, listening to the monsoon outside, and drinking my hot cocoa. It's warm, cozy, and very comforting. Kind of like a bubblebath, but without your skin getting all pruny.
My new hobby: Laughing at Local News
I'm going to start a weekly (or maybe more) posting on Funny Local News. Because there ain't nothing funnier than Local News. This inaugural posting will feature the inestimable Donald Robinson, reporting on Black Friday Sales at WFRV in beautiful (I'm sure) Fox Valley, Wisconsin. The funniest part of this story isn't the listing of mall stores (stores like The Gap, and American Eagle, complete with shots of their logos), or the mall manager talking seriously about a "soft opening" at midnight (oh, the significance!). The funniest part is when Stephanie from Maurice's talks about the fleece's being on sale. Oh man, I gotta get me down to Maurice's to get some cheep fleece!
Side note: I feel bad for poor Dee Thetford's husband. What short straw did he pick so that he gets to go out at 5am on Black Friday in the Wisconsin cold, and she gets to stay home and warm?
Gale Lemke is right: it is all just too crazy. Stay in Chilton, my friend.
Side note: I feel bad for poor Dee Thetford's husband. What short straw did he pick so that he gets to go out at 5am on Black Friday in the Wisconsin cold, and she gets to stay home and warm?
Gale Lemke is right: it is all just too crazy. Stay in Chilton, my friend.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
1. Colin Firth and Hugh Grant. Though there are no fighting scenes like there are when these two appeared together in the Bridget Jones movies, we do get to see Hugh Grant as Prime Minister getting his dance on, with similar butt-moves as those in Music and Lyrics. Really, any movie with both Hugh Grant and Colin Firth will make my Top Ten list.
2. The airport hugging scenes. This movie now has a monopoly on airport greetings. You can't spend ten minutes in an arrivals area without overhearing someone mentioning that it reminds them of Love Actually. And no, it's not always me saying it. Seriously, I hear this everywhere now.
3. The To Me, You Are Perfect scene. J actually hates this scene because he once had a girl tell him she loved him after he'd already fallen for me, so it pisses him off. But I actually think it's quite beautiful. He doesn't have an agenda. He's just saying what he feels.
4. The guy who can't get a girlfriend in the UK, so decides to go to Wisconsin and make the most of his British accent, and winds up enmeshed in a five-some of hot Wisconsin chicks. This is just so true. Us American girls need to be careful with British boys. When I first moved to London, I had to have my guard up. A guy could come up and ask me whether I would like to be taken home and tied up and grotesquely murdered, but he'd sound so darn proper saying it that you'd struggle to refuse the offer.
5. Stacey from Gavin and Stacey is a porn actress who meets her love while on the job. If you know her character from Gavin and Stacey, you know that the idea that she could be a porn actress is just laughable. That'd be more Nessa's work. Anyway, I love this storyline, and I love that actress, and it's all very funny.
6. There's awesome London scenery. In just a few shots they capture Trafalgar Square, the new Gherkin building, Oxford Street, Carnaby Street, and Selfridges (where I bought a duvet and duvet cover that I still own).
7. Sam. Who wouldn't melt at this kid, running through the airport to say goodbye to his true love in an act of gallantry? Nobody with a heart, that's for sure.
8. Mr. Bean's gift wrapping scene.
It's raining like crazy - I'm thinking of going into the ark business - but I'm up in my Girly Nook in the attic, snuggling with three cats and listening to the rain on the roof, so life is good.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
So the book update for today is that I'm at 7035 words. Yay for doing nanowrimo my way.
I'm doing a cheap-experiment tonight. I am completely in love with peppermint mochas, but I'm convinced that I can make peppermint syrup at home, and save the $5. So I googled "How to make peppermint syrup for coffee drinks" and found a Holy Grail website - not just peppermint syrup, but also pumpkin spice syrup. Man, I'll be able to replicate my favorite drink in the world right now - the pumpkin hot chocolate from Sonic. I'm so stoked. In fact, I'm going out to the stove right now...
I shall report back if it's a success.
On a side note, I put on my Norah Jones Pandora station tonight, and feel very much like I'm in a Dido video - everything's in soft focus, and I'm moving more slowly and looking pensive all the time. I think that what would make my life more interesting would be if I had a personal soundtrack to go along with everything I do. That way when I'm just sitting on the couch reading Vanity Fair, I could put on the "At Home Reading in PJ's at 3pm" music, and suddenly, rather than just me being lazy on the couch, it would turn into something that's worthy of a reality tv show. Just thinking, that's all.
I'm doing a cheap-experiment tonight. I am completely in love with peppermint mochas, but I'm convinced that I can make peppermint syrup at home, and save the $5. So I googled "How to make peppermint syrup for coffee drinks" and found a Holy Grail website - not just peppermint syrup, but also pumpkin spice syrup. Man, I'll be able to replicate my favorite drink in the world right now - the pumpkin hot chocolate from Sonic. I'm so stoked. In fact, I'm going out to the stove right now...
I shall report back if it's a success.
On a side note, I put on my Norah Jones Pandora station tonight, and feel very much like I'm in a Dido video - everything's in soft focus, and I'm moving more slowly and looking pensive all the time. I think that what would make my life more interesting would be if I had a personal soundtrack to go along with everything I do. That way when I'm just sitting on the couch reading Vanity Fair, I could put on the "At Home Reading in PJ's at 3pm" music, and suddenly, rather than just me being lazy on the couch, it would turn into something that's worthy of a reality tv show. Just thinking, that's all.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Book update
Word count total today: 6298.
Oh, and the Ashes are on again - third test, in case you've not been following. The first one was a draw (yes, only in cricket can you play for five days straight, 8 hours a day, and still not have a winner). England won the second test. And now we're on the third, and it looks like England is getting off to a very good start.
We're streaming it on this Indian station where they have funny commercials. You can have a lot of fun by going on youtube and searching Funny Indian Commercials. The below montage gives you an idea of how we will be spending the next five days worth of commercial breaks. Nothing beats England winning the Ashes combined with funny Indian commercials. The next five days are going to rock.
Oh, and the Ashes are on again - third test, in case you've not been following. The first one was a draw (yes, only in cricket can you play for five days straight, 8 hours a day, and still not have a winner). England won the second test. And now we're on the third, and it looks like England is getting off to a very good start.
We're streaming it on this Indian station where they have funny commercials. You can have a lot of fun by going on youtube and searching Funny Indian Commercials. The below montage gives you an idea of how we will be spending the next five days worth of commercial breaks. Nothing beats England winning the Ashes combined with funny Indian commercials. The next five days are going to rock.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Moments
it's kind of hard to type with a kitten sitting in between you and your laptop, happily purring away, but I am attempting to try.
So I gave Fresh and Easy the what-for today on facebook. They have these new cinnamon-coated almonds, which looked really yummy in the bag, but nearly broke my tooth in real life. I think dentists secretly created them to drum up business.
I've kind of taken off the last two days of writing my book. I've been engrossed in a
Tim Dorsey book
. I even woke up two hours early this morning to find out who the FBI informant was. I'm going to quit being lame and lazy like that tomorrow, though.
I watched Millionaire Matchmaker today. Seriously, how much ass does that show kick? But it's like really sweet and thick chocolate - you have to be careful not to overdo it. I watched it for an hour today, and I think I'm done for another 34 years.
So I have been thinking about getting pregnant again - how much I hope it happens quickly, and how I'm excited for something else to look forward to besides just being miserable. Even being afraid (which is, I'm sure, pretty much how I will spend the entirety of my next pregnancy) seems appealing these days. I'm frustrated though, in the current state of the trying to conceive phase. Last year at this time, when we had first started trying, I was so carefree and nonchalant about the whole thing. I didn't know what pregnancy symptoms were, I didn't know what it was like to be pregnant, I didn't know anything. Now I'm hyper-aware of every feeling of nausea, every time I'm tired, every time I feel hormonal... you name it, I'm watching it.
I don't know how to un-know these symptoms. I don't know how to un-know something that I know already. I don't know that I'll ever get that carefree innocence back. And to be honest, I don't know if I'd even want to. I feel naive and stupid looking back at myself last year now. When I thought that if you got pregnant, it meant that you were having a baby for sure. When I didn't know how many terrifying ways there are for babies to die. When I didn't know what this kind of pain felt like.
Would I want to go back to that? I don't think so. I'm wiser now, which has made me more compassionate and empathetic. You don't get wisdom without going through some shit, and I'm glad I have this wisdom now. I'm glad I know that babies can die. Because I think that when I'm pregnant again, I want to go into it with my eyes open. Not so that I can be terrified and depressed, but so that I can appreciate every minute that I'm pregnant.
I vow that I will never complain about morning sickness. I will never complain about insomnia. I will embrace those symptoms because they will mean that I'm pregnant, and for that moment I'm pregnant, and that's all you have. Really, that's all anybody has - this moment. Then you get another moment. And eventually, if you're lucky, you get 9 months worth of moments that add up to a healthy baby. And if you're really lucky, you get 80 or 90 years worth of moments that add up to a fulfilling life. But this moment, right now, this is all that I have. It's all you have. It's all anybody has.
Hubby is spending this moment playing Gran Turismo, his very favorite video game. I am spending this moment on the couch with him and two purring cats; and in this moment, I am very sad, but life is still good.
So I gave Fresh and Easy the what-for today on facebook. They have these new cinnamon-coated almonds, which looked really yummy in the bag, but nearly broke my tooth in real life. I think dentists secretly created them to drum up business.
I've kind of taken off the last two days of writing my book. I've been engrossed in a
Tim Dorsey book
. I even woke up two hours early this morning to find out who the FBI informant was. I'm going to quit being lame and lazy like that tomorrow, though. I watched Millionaire Matchmaker today. Seriously, how much ass does that show kick? But it's like really sweet and thick chocolate - you have to be careful not to overdo it. I watched it for an hour today, and I think I'm done for another 34 years.
So I have been thinking about getting pregnant again - how much I hope it happens quickly, and how I'm excited for something else to look forward to besides just being miserable. Even being afraid (which is, I'm sure, pretty much how I will spend the entirety of my next pregnancy) seems appealing these days. I'm frustrated though, in the current state of the trying to conceive phase. Last year at this time, when we had first started trying, I was so carefree and nonchalant about the whole thing. I didn't know what pregnancy symptoms were, I didn't know what it was like to be pregnant, I didn't know anything. Now I'm hyper-aware of every feeling of nausea, every time I'm tired, every time I feel hormonal... you name it, I'm watching it.
I don't know how to un-know these symptoms. I don't know how to un-know something that I know already. I don't know that I'll ever get that carefree innocence back. And to be honest, I don't know if I'd even want to. I feel naive and stupid looking back at myself last year now. When I thought that if you got pregnant, it meant that you were having a baby for sure. When I didn't know how many terrifying ways there are for babies to die. When I didn't know what this kind of pain felt like.
Would I want to go back to that? I don't think so. I'm wiser now, which has made me more compassionate and empathetic. You don't get wisdom without going through some shit, and I'm glad I have this wisdom now. I'm glad I know that babies can die. Because I think that when I'm pregnant again, I want to go into it with my eyes open. Not so that I can be terrified and depressed, but so that I can appreciate every minute that I'm pregnant.
I vow that I will never complain about morning sickness. I will never complain about insomnia. I will embrace those symptoms because they will mean that I'm pregnant, and for that moment I'm pregnant, and that's all you have. Really, that's all anybody has - this moment. Then you get another moment. And eventually, if you're lucky, you get 9 months worth of moments that add up to a healthy baby. And if you're really lucky, you get 80 or 90 years worth of moments that add up to a fulfilling life. But this moment, right now, this is all that I have. It's all you have. It's all anybody has.
Hubby is spending this moment playing Gran Turismo, his very favorite video game. I am spending this moment on the couch with him and two purring cats; and in this moment, I am very sad, but life is still good.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Artwalking
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| This girl was my favorite - Amanda Sage - google her! |
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| It looks like snow and you don't have to shovel. Wheeee! |
It was nice to go back and walk around with hubby. We had a good old fashioned date night. We walked to Little Tokyo to eat, then stopped in a Japanese grocery store so he could buy seaweed (just to gross me out) and I could play with all the foreign toiletries, and buy lots of foreign gum. I love me some foreign facewash and gum. Of all the weird things I could collect, I pick facewash and gum. It's so weird.
I have been really sad again lately, really missing being pregnant. Tomorrow it will be 2 months since the Horrible Day. I just keep replaying scenes from the day in my head - it's like it's on a continuous loop - and I can't get rid of it. I try really hard not to think about it, but then trying not to think about something is pretty much the same thing as thinking about something, so it hasn't been working out that well. I did treat myself to a new pair of sunglasses the other day - my old ones were resting on my cheeks and giving me these weird creases in my face all the time - so at least I have cool sunnies to hide behind when I'm crying in public. Sigh... I hope I get pregnant again soon. It will be nice to have something else to think about besides how miserable I am.
Oh, and finally, a book update. I'm now at just over 5800 words. NaNoWriSixWeeks is coming along smoothly :) I like my characters, I like my story, I like spending time with them, so that's all positive. I'm struggling with their dialog, but that will come in later drafts. Right now it's about getting words on the screen. I'll be so stoked if I can do this, even though it wasn't in November, and it's six weeks rather than a month.
Crap. I just now realized that one of the cats has figured out how to slide open my closet doors. This is not a good development. I need to get hooks or something.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Book update
Not much to say today - J and I had a Date Night at the Downtown LA Artwalk, so that was fun. We ate in Little Tokyo, and went to a Japanese grocery store where I had fun playing with Japanese toiletries and face washes. We looked at art, listened to buskers, and made fun of the Angeleno's who think their weather is cold. So now it's bedtime, but I'm so proud of myself for honoring my commitment to write every day, even if it's not much, and even if it's crap.
Today's word count:
3009
Woot. I'm going to beat my entire nanowrimo total in the first week.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
book word count
Not much to report today, but I'm at 2352 words. NaNoWriSixWeeks is going according to plan :)
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Book update
So I said I wanted to do NaNoWriMo during December - my own version of it since I sucked at doing the official one this year - and I think the best way for me to do that is to hold myself accountable through word count updates. I'm already late since I started today, but I don't have guests coming for Christmas, or any work conferences, or anything like that this month. So I should be able to catch up. So 50k is the goal. And honestly, I think I'll give myself until January 15. Just because, if I'm not doing the official NaNoWriMo anyway, I should be able to make up my own rules. And my NaNoWriMo is going to be more like NaNoWriSixWeeks. So Jan 15 is the drop date. I will have 50,000 words that are somewhat coherent by then. In a book form.
So. Word count today:
1347.
I will post daily updates. Yay accountability! :)
So. Word count today:
1347.
I will post daily updates. Yay accountability! :)
Date Nights, Product Placement, and The Sing Off making everything better
Is it just me, or is the new ke$sha video trying to take product placement to a whole new level, but failing miserably since Gaga already did it? Like the featuring of PlentyofFish.com - they paid to be part of Gaga's Telephone video, and now they're on ke$ha's video? Is she trying to be ironic? Or is the entire marketing strategy of PlentyofFish.com based off of paying to be featured in music videos? Either way, I just don't get it.
So we had a Date Night up on our mountain over the weekend. I honestly didn't know there was so much for non-outdoorsy people to do up here. Seriously, we amused ourselves for six whole hours, and none of it involved fishing or camping. First off, we went bowling. I still bowl like I did when I was 8 - two handed. I still managed to get a strike, and a spare, and only got three gutter balls in as many games. The manager guy was seriously having a hard time with me bowling like that. He kept trying to give me lighter balls. "It's not the weight. It's that I don't like bowling the way the other people do. I'm happy bowling like this."
Then he tries to give me this metal sloping contraption, kind of like training wheels, that you put the ball on top of, aim, and then release the ball. The five year olds were using it. "No," I insisted, "I'm happy being a sucky bowler." Was it hurting him that I bowl like that? I think it was really tough for him to just sit back and let me do my thing.
It's something I struggle with a lot, too, so I could relate. "No, there's an easier way... why won't you let me show you the easier way... why are you doing it wrong when I can show you the easier way..." But it was a lesson in letting people do things the way they want, whether there's an easier way or not. I'm happy bowling an 89, so let me go bowl an 89 and leave me alone, ok? They do Glow Bowling on Saturday nights. $20 for unlimited bowling for 4 hours, plus shoes, 2 slices of pizza, and unlimited soda. Man, that is a deal and a half.
Anyway, after bowling, we decided to go see the new Harry Potter. My mountain has a tiny little theater that's on the second, and top, floor of the building that also houses the school district headquarters. It's a quaint spot. We had an hour to wait though, so we went to lake arrowhead and ate thai food by the fireplace on the lake. I can't think of many nicer ways to pass an hour than watching the sun go down on the water whilst nursing a root beer in front of a roaring fireplace.
So then we saw Harry Potter, which left me disappointed, only because now I'm going to have to wait however long to see the final one. And J hasn't read the final two books, so he doesn't know what's going to happen, and he's still pretty much convinced that Snape is evil. Grrrr....
And it's Tuesday, and Tuesdays still officially suck (8 weeks since the Horrible Day... I would have been 29 weeks pregnant tomorrow...sigh...). But The Sing Off started, so that makes everything much more ok. Yay for an entire show devoted to a capella music!
So we had a Date Night up on our mountain over the weekend. I honestly didn't know there was so much for non-outdoorsy people to do up here. Seriously, we amused ourselves for six whole hours, and none of it involved fishing or camping. First off, we went bowling. I still bowl like I did when I was 8 - two handed. I still managed to get a strike, and a spare, and only got three gutter balls in as many games. The manager guy was seriously having a hard time with me bowling like that. He kept trying to give me lighter balls. "It's not the weight. It's that I don't like bowling the way the other people do. I'm happy bowling like this."
Then he tries to give me this metal sloping contraption, kind of like training wheels, that you put the ball on top of, aim, and then release the ball. The five year olds were using it. "No," I insisted, "I'm happy being a sucky bowler." Was it hurting him that I bowl like that? I think it was really tough for him to just sit back and let me do my thing.
It's something I struggle with a lot, too, so I could relate. "No, there's an easier way... why won't you let me show you the easier way... why are you doing it wrong when I can show you the easier way..." But it was a lesson in letting people do things the way they want, whether there's an easier way or not. I'm happy bowling an 89, so let me go bowl an 89 and leave me alone, ok? They do Glow Bowling on Saturday nights. $20 for unlimited bowling for 4 hours, plus shoes, 2 slices of pizza, and unlimited soda. Man, that is a deal and a half.
Anyway, after bowling, we decided to go see the new Harry Potter. My mountain has a tiny little theater that's on the second, and top, floor of the building that also houses the school district headquarters. It's a quaint spot. We had an hour to wait though, so we went to lake arrowhead and ate thai food by the fireplace on the lake. I can't think of many nicer ways to pass an hour than watching the sun go down on the water whilst nursing a root beer in front of a roaring fireplace.
So then we saw Harry Potter, which left me disappointed, only because now I'm going to have to wait however long to see the final one. And J hasn't read the final two books, so he doesn't know what's going to happen, and he's still pretty much convinced that Snape is evil. Grrrr....
And it's Tuesday, and Tuesdays still officially suck (8 weeks since the Horrible Day... I would have been 29 weeks pregnant tomorrow...sigh...). But The Sing Off started, so that makes everything much more ok. Yay for an entire show devoted to a capella music!
Monday, December 6, 2010
When is a loss a loss?
There's big drama going on over on my grief and loss message boards. The grief and loss boards are for people who are dealing with pregnancy losses, and some of the stories are ridiculously traumatic. They're also ridiculously inspirational. One woman found out when her daughter was at 18 weeks that she had a condition that was incompatible with life. She decided to carry to term, to give the baby a fighting chance. The baby died in utero the day before she was due. There are tons of stories like that - really gut-wrenching stories of people trying so desperately to have a child, and dealing with their own personal losses. I can't deal with it that much, to be honest. There's just too much grief, so many new hearts broken every day. But the women there were a huge support to me, so I feel like I need to go on at least a few times a week to check in, and offer some support of my own, now that it doesn't hurt to breathe so much.
A few weeks ago a woman posted that she had just had a d&c because she found out that her baby had down syndrome, and she was sad because they had to start all over again. Well. This got people seriously riled up. Down syndrome is compatible with life, you see. So her baby could have lived, but she terminated the pregnancy because she wasn't able to deal with a special needs child. People were seriously upset. One person said that she technically had an abortion, and hinted that she hoped the next child didn't have any other imperfections, like, say, the wrong color eyes, or else they might get the chopping block too. One woman was a special education teacher, and she said she was horrified. At first I felt sorry for the original woman - she had come on the board looking for support, and people should have given her that support and not judged her.
But then I got to thinking that, while yes, we should give her the support she needs, really it's pretty stupid of her to come on a grief board and talk about the baby she willingly gave up because it was going to have special needs. If I willingly give something up, I can't go around saying that I've "lost" it. I haven't lost it. I've given it up. It's pretty insensitive of that woman to come on a board where there are thousands of women grieving their own lost babies, who would willingly have traded places with her to have a healthy baby. I know I would have. If Baby Teysko would have had down syndrome it would have been very sad, and we would have been very upset, but that's the baby we were given, the baby we were trying so hard to have. I'm not going to throw that back in the face of whatever creator there is out there who deemed me worthy and strong enough to care for him. That would be our baby, and we'd manage. Life would look a lot different, and I pray that we never have to be in that position to make good on our words, but I can pretty confidently say that we would figure something out, and that baby would be loved, and welcomed into the world and into our arms.
Even if we didn't, and for whatever reason we wound up terminating the pregnancy, I wouldn't go on to a bloody grief and loss board and talk about how I made a conscious decision to end my pregnancy, scheduling the appointment myself, and having it all go according to my plan. That's just not a loss. A loss is something you don't get any say over. It's not something you work into your schedule because the alternative doesn't suit you.
I fully believe that original woman should have support, and I have no idea how difficult and painful it was for her to make her decision. There are probably message boards and support groups for people in her position, but I think it's pretty darned insensitive to hang out on a board of grieving women because your baby was going to have special needs. Look, it's like an exclusive club, these grieving mama's. And you have to go through a horrific hazing to be part of it. That hazing can include sudden ambulance rides, expected routine ultrasounds where there is suddenly no heartbeat, huge amounts of blood, being more frightened than you've ever been in your entire life, screams, rivers of tears, and going through six hours of labor to deliver baby that was alive when you started, but will die during delivery.
That hazing does not include getting on the phone with your doctor's office, checking your calendar, and planning a convenient time to end your pregnancy.
We don't get a lot, us grieving mama's. We don't get to celebrate mother's day, even though we're mothers. We don't get to put the baby clothes we bought on to the baby we intended them for. Some even don't get to return the baby furniture they bought. We don't get pictures, we don't get memories, and we don't get locks of hair. But we get to call ourselves grieving mama's, and I'm sorry, but unless you went through the hazing ritual, you don't get to be part of that group. And that's all I can say about that.
A few weeks ago a woman posted that she had just had a d&c because she found out that her baby had down syndrome, and she was sad because they had to start all over again. Well. This got people seriously riled up. Down syndrome is compatible with life, you see. So her baby could have lived, but she terminated the pregnancy because she wasn't able to deal with a special needs child. People were seriously upset. One person said that she technically had an abortion, and hinted that she hoped the next child didn't have any other imperfections, like, say, the wrong color eyes, or else they might get the chopping block too. One woman was a special education teacher, and she said she was horrified. At first I felt sorry for the original woman - she had come on the board looking for support, and people should have given her that support and not judged her.
But then I got to thinking that, while yes, we should give her the support she needs, really it's pretty stupid of her to come on a grief board and talk about the baby she willingly gave up because it was going to have special needs. If I willingly give something up, I can't go around saying that I've "lost" it. I haven't lost it. I've given it up. It's pretty insensitive of that woman to come on a board where there are thousands of women grieving their own lost babies, who would willingly have traded places with her to have a healthy baby. I know I would have. If Baby Teysko would have had down syndrome it would have been very sad, and we would have been very upset, but that's the baby we were given, the baby we were trying so hard to have. I'm not going to throw that back in the face of whatever creator there is out there who deemed me worthy and strong enough to care for him. That would be our baby, and we'd manage. Life would look a lot different, and I pray that we never have to be in that position to make good on our words, but I can pretty confidently say that we would figure something out, and that baby would be loved, and welcomed into the world and into our arms.
Even if we didn't, and for whatever reason we wound up terminating the pregnancy, I wouldn't go on to a bloody grief and loss board and talk about how I made a conscious decision to end my pregnancy, scheduling the appointment myself, and having it all go according to my plan. That's just not a loss. A loss is something you don't get any say over. It's not something you work into your schedule because the alternative doesn't suit you.
I fully believe that original woman should have support, and I have no idea how difficult and painful it was for her to make her decision. There are probably message boards and support groups for people in her position, but I think it's pretty darned insensitive to hang out on a board of grieving women because your baby was going to have special needs. Look, it's like an exclusive club, these grieving mama's. And you have to go through a horrific hazing to be part of it. That hazing can include sudden ambulance rides, expected routine ultrasounds where there is suddenly no heartbeat, huge amounts of blood, being more frightened than you've ever been in your entire life, screams, rivers of tears, and going through six hours of labor to deliver baby that was alive when you started, but will die during delivery.
That hazing does not include getting on the phone with your doctor's office, checking your calendar, and planning a convenient time to end your pregnancy.
We don't get a lot, us grieving mama's. We don't get to celebrate mother's day, even though we're mothers. We don't get to put the baby clothes we bought on to the baby we intended them for. Some even don't get to return the baby furniture they bought. We don't get pictures, we don't get memories, and we don't get locks of hair. But we get to call ourselves grieving mama's, and I'm sorry, but unless you went through the hazing ritual, you don't get to be part of that group. And that's all I can say about that.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
back to podcasting
Well, I'm back to podcasting after a nearly-six-month-pregnancy-loss-of-pregnancy break...
This week, Edward VI's reign. Color me excited.
http://englandcast.blogspot.com
This week, Edward VI's reign. Color me excited.
http://englandcast.blogspot.com
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