Sunday, Sunday, Sunday!

I went to the gym at 8:30 this morning (Sunday), and it was deserted.  There were a few elderly folk working up a sweat, but it was quiet and calm and completely uncrowded.  I had my pick of machines, and it was a nice relaxing workout, free from the stench of sweat or cologne from the person next to me... because there was no person next to me.  It was glorious!  Plus, the fact that I was at the gym at a time when not many others were there made me feel totally hard-core.  I was like, Wow, I am a workout goddess!  The workers must think I am super fit!  In my mind, having the gym staff think I'm super fit is the ultimate achievement in my fitness regimen.  If they think I'm fit, then it must be true... because they see every person that goes to the gym!  My Zumba instructor once told me that she thought I was a dancer... and that was the ultimate achievement in Zumba.  Also, if you have seen me dance, you would probably think I had some rare disease that caused a horrible coordination deficit... not that I was a dancer.

Anyway, if Sunday morning is the best time to go to the gym, then Monday evening is the worst.  After many disappointing trips to the gym on Monday evenings, I have now just completely sworn off Monday workouts.  When I go on a Monday, I always have to park at the back of the lot.  And, it's not that I mind walking from the far side of the lot... it's more that I get filled with a sense of dread when I realize how many people must be inside for there to be this many cars outside.  And, then it's even worse when I actually see all of these people.  It's like a swarm of bees buzzing, with all the machines whirring along.  You can smell the distinct scent of sweaty bodies and feel the heat generated from simply having that many people in one room together.  It is not pleasant, I must say.  Then, I look at the elliptical sign-up, and it's full... and the rowing machine is taken... and all of the treadmills with personal TVs are signed up for.  So, I have to take a treadmill without a personal TV.  Do you know how boring it is to run on a treadmill with nothing to do but look in front of you at a mute MSNBC?  I hate MSNBC... and the big TV is always on MSNBC!  With no sound.  The only thing worse than MSNBC is having to just watch it... without being able to at least hear what is being said... because God knows there is no action to watch.  Ugh, it's awful.  And, did I mention that every time I'm on one of those stupid TV-less treadmills that the same over-cologned guy always takes the treadmill next to me?!  If you have never tried breathing in cologne while running, just take my word for it that it isn't fun.  It is somewhat of an added challenge... kind of like breathing at a higher altitude... hmm, maybe it's good for my workout...?

You know, perhaps every morning is like Sunday morning at the gym.  I wouldn't know because I am incapable of engaging in cardiovascular activity at 6:30 am... which is what time I would have to be at the gym on a weekday if I wanted to work out in the mornings.  I'm actually incapable of even waking up at 6:30 if I don't absolutely have to.  7:00 is no problem... but there's something about that added 30 minutes that makes it completely impossible.  I do know that Saturday mornings are less crowded than most evenings... though even Saturday mornings don't compare to Sunday morning's desolation.  

Oh, how I wish every morning were Sunday morning.  The gym would be deserted and enjoyable... and I wouldn't have to work.  That would also be an awesome development.  Ok, God, get to work on that "every day is Sunday" thing... just think of all the worship you would get... really, I think it's in your best interest...

Dream Jobs: Young Adult Fiction Novelist

As with my last "dream jobs" post, this dream job falls within the writing profession.  A blogger dreams of jobs for which she would do nothing but write, you say?  Shocking!

First, let me define what I mean by "young adult fiction novelist" (YA novelist, for short).  Examples of young adult fiction include:  Harry Potter, Hunger Games, Twilight, Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, etc.  A YA novelist writes fiction geared toward teenagers, and though it may have a wider appeal, the writing is primarily targeting a younger audience.

I feel like this job relates to a very specific subset of writers, one which I would fall into quite nicely.  A YA novelist has to be able to write well enough to hold the reader's attention, but they probably won't be winning a Pulitzer anytime soon.  You have to be a "good" writer to succeed, but you don't have to be a "great" writer.  In fact, most "great" writers might be insulted by the idea of being a YA novelist.  And, great writers would not be very successful as YA novelists.  Teenagers don't want to read "great" literature... look at high school English classes and the popularity of things like Cliff's Notes that allow teenagers to avoid reading great literature.  Sure, as a teenager, I enjoyed reading great literature... but I was particularly nerdy.

I, however, am admittedly not a "great" writer, and I relish the idea of being a YA novelist for a few reasons.

Reason #1.  Young adults have low standards.  I mean, have you seen what is on MTV nowadays?  Jersey Shore?  Teen Mom?  Miley Cyrus?  Seriously, how good of a writer do you need to be to engage teenage minds?  For the most part, they probably couldn't care less about writing style, symbolism, or originality.  Teenagers are usually looking for one thing when they read:  entertainment.  Granted, most adults are also looking for the same thing... but they expect a higher level of quality and intelligence in their entertainment.  Teenagers will tolerate an extraordinarily high level of repetition and cliches.  You could write almost the same exact story over and over again, just changing key things like names and settings, and teenagers would love every single book.  In fact, they are usually looking for a certain formula and outcome in their novels, just as women look for a certain formula in their romance novels.  You don't want a romance novel where the heroine doesn't get the guy in the end (take note, Nicholas Sparks... there are "tearjerkers," and then there is Nights in Rodanthe.  Awful.).  In that same vein, young adults want a novel where there is a "good" side and a "bad" side... characters have to band together to overcome an obstacle... and the protagonist "wins" in the end, learning a lesson in the process.  There may or may not need to be a romance of some kind thrown in there... definitely, if it is geared toward females.  Supernatural characters also instantly up the appeal.  Lower standards = less stress.

This is what you are competing with.

Reason #2.  Teenagers are incredibly spoiled.  Really, parents spend ridiculous amounts of money on their children.  And, any money that teenagers happen to get, they spend indiscriminately.  I'm not complaining, as I was obviously a beneficiary of this trend as a teenager, but the teenage market is a goldmine.  The entertainment industry understands this and purposefully markets toward the younger generation.  If a teenager wants something, their parents buy it for them.  Why?  Teenagers are horrible, that's why!  Parents will do anything to placate angst-ridden teens.  I remember... I was one of those teens.  Generally, parents will take whatever small measures they can to avoid their teenagers' wrath.  It is also almost impossible to understand or predict why your teenage son or daughter is angry with you... so, when it is obvious that they are angry because they want "x" book, you give them "x" book.  Even if you only get 3 days of silence while your child reads said book... it is probably worth the $12 you spent on it.  Plus, at least it's a book.  Your child is reading for entertainment.  You have just succeeded as a parent!

Cha-ching!

Reason #3.  Young adult books make great movie franchises or TV shows.  It seems like every recent major multi-movie franchise has been based on YA novels.  Not to mention the slew of CW or ABC Family shows based on YA novels.  But, YA novels don't just stop at movies and television, oh no.  They can turn into multimedia extravaganzas.  Just think of the endless amount of Harry Potter merchandise in every medium imaginable.  Video games.  Toys.  Websites.  Costumes.  Food.  It even got its own theme park!  Twilight is well on its way to a similar level of multimedia success, and I anticipate that Hunger Games will follow shortly.  If you write a successful YA series, it is almost guaranteed that said success will parlay into something far broader and more lucrative.  With adults, you can make books into movies or TV shows, and they are likely to at least be moderately successful.  But, as far as additional merchandising goes, "adult" books can only reach so far.  You don't really see John Grisham video games, toys, mugs, calendars, or t-shirts...

And, I was so hoping for a Michael Crichton lunchbox!

Reason #4.  I like reading young adult books.  I admit it.  I like young adult books... maybe even more than actual adult books.  I'm not ashamed.  After all, I have already admitted that I love the show Vampire Diaries (though I have yet to succumb to the temptation to read the bazillion books the show is based on...). I'm trying to force myself to read more adult books, but they just aren't as fun!  Perhaps it is my inner child... or my immature "young at heart" attitude.  I love the escapist elements of YA fiction.  I am instantly transported back to being a teenager myself, which can sometimes be a bit dangerous, but is most times a welcomed escape from the reality of adulthood.  And, I figure, if I'm the one writing the YA fiction, I would spend even more time lost in that escape.  Whether enjoying reading YA novels translates into enjoying writing YA novels is yet to be seen... but it is a quandary that I would be happy to explore!

I tried to find a clever representation of me exploring a quandary.  Apparently, this is Quandary Peak.  As much fun as a 14,000 foot mountain looks, I would rather explore a figurative quandary.

Basically, these reasons boil down to two things:  money and enjoyment.  Isn't that what a dream job is, anyway?  A job that provides you with money and enjoyment.  And, yes, I know that only like one out of a thousand YA novelists will ever reach any level of success... and I'm sure it's much harder than I make it out to be (maybe).  But, I can dream...

Addicted to Christmas

Hello everyone, my name is Amanda, and I am an addict.

That's right... I'm addicted to Christmas.  Christmas addiction is a disease that receives very little recognition, and as someone who has suffered from it my entire life, I feel compelled to shed some light on this debilitating affliction.  Christmas addiction can manifest itself in many ways, but if you are suffering from Christmas addiction, you may experience the following symptoms:

1.  You are enthusiastic about winter-themed flannel pajama sets, and you wear them all year round.  Even in July.  You may even turn down your thermostat so you are not uncomfortably warm wearing said pajamas.  And, also, you are an adult.

Just looking at this makes me want to rush out and buy more flannel pajama sets!

2.  You have or plan to have a massive Christmas village scene on display in your home.  You know what I'm talking about.  Those miniature buildings and such that you can use to construct a huge Christmas village, complete with fake snow, streetlights, and working electricity.  The ambitious may even have a train running through or around the village.  It all starts with seeing those pretty villages in an in-flight magazine or on a holiday commercial.  So you buy one building, maybe two... just to put on the mantle.

But, it really doesn't look like much of a Christmas village sitting up on the mantle without streets.  You need more buildings, so you can have streets!  So, you buy a few more, and you set up a little square on your coffee table.

But, your village is missing a post office.  A library.  A restaurant!  How can you have a real Christmas village without a post office!?  How will the letters get to Santa?  Soon, you could film miniature sequences for Miracle on 34th Street in your living room.  And, you have a baby gate up to keep the cat from eating the plastic trees and white batting.

3.  You begin listening to Christmas music before the radio stations start playing it.  I think a lot of stations start playing Christmas music at the beginning of November now.  So, basically, you are listening to Christmas music before Halloween.  Most normal people think radio stations start the Christmas music too early, but you can't believe there isn't a station that plays Christmas music year-round!  You can sing along with every song that comes on the Christmas station, and every tune elicits the reply, "Oh my god, I love this song!"  Because you do, indeed, love every Christmas song.  The fact that there are so many songs about Christmas and none about any other holiday only reinforces your belief that Christmas is the most supreme holiday of all.  No one sings about Halloween.  That is barely even a holiday.  Rather, it is simply a place-marker to remind you that Christmas is less than two months away.  Like the 2-minute warning in football.

4.  You despise "autumn" decorations.  Let's face it, autumn decorations simply cut into the time that could be spent displaying Christmas decorations.  Many people think Christmas decorations are only "properly" displayed between Thanksgiving and Christmas.  That is only a month of Christmas decorations. That is not nearly enough time devoted to the beauty of Christmas.

Autumn decorations are drab and earth-toned...

Let's put a bunch of dead foliage in a basket shaped like the animal  we are eating for dinner!  
Depressing.

Christmas decorations are sparkly and colorful!

Lush greenery with ribbons and ornaments in bright reds and shimmering golds... and  gifts!

The leaves turn colors... isn't that enough autumnal decoration?  The way you see it, if you can describe the air temperature as "chilly," it's time for Christmas decorations.  If there is even the slightest chance that temperatures could go low enough for a snow flurry, Christmas is in the air... and it should be everywhere else, as well.  From October to March.  Besides, what other decorations do you put up from January to March anyway?  Valentine's Day?  That's even less of a holiday than Halloween.

5.  You're dreaming of a white Christmas.  While others despise the snow for the inconvenience it brings in all aspects of driving and home maintenance, you can't get enough of the stuff.  The only thing that makes Christmas even better and more beautiful than it already is, is a fresh blanket of fluffy shimmering snow on Christmas Day.  Heck, you would even take ice in a pinch.  At least ice makes everything shiny and pretty.  All that winter weather might keep you from leaving the house, but who cares?  Why would you want to leave the house on Christmas anyway?  You have food, decorations, presents, Christmas music... you could subsist on Christmas cheer alone if you had to.  Though, to be honest, you probably have stockpiled supplies a few days in advance in hopes that you would get snowed in.

You are the only one excited to see this when you look out your window.
Who cares if your car is buried in 2 feet of snow?  Look how pretty it makes the trees!

6.  You don't care about the gifts.  This may seem a little counter-intuitive, but true Christmas addicts are not addicted to the gifts... they are addicted to the Christmas season.  The crux of the materialistic component of Christmas addiction is the draw toward perpetuating the Christmas season in any way possible... which usually manifests itself in the form of decorations, music, scented candles.  If the gifts are your main draw, you may be suffering from a different addiction... maybe you should watch that movie "Confessions of a Shopaholic," though it really doesn't do much to discourage being a shopaholic because, in the end, she lives happily ever after with a cute Englishman.

7.  You bake Christmas cookies... and lots of them.  You may not bake a single cookie for the rest of the entire year, but at Christmastime, your crank those cookies out by the hundreds.  You spend inordinate amounts of time selecting the perfect recipes, finding the perfect tins or platters, and just generally making your cookies as beautiful, Christmas-y, and delicious as possible.  And, you are known as "the" person who makes Christmas cookies by all who encounter you and your picture-perfect cookies, which are delivered with inexplicable amounts of cheer.

Your Christmas cookies look more
like this.

Other people's Christmas cookies look
like this.

8.  Your Christmas tree or lights stay up longer than 6 weeks... on purpose.  Just because you are too lazy or "don't have time" to take down the tree or the lights does not make you an addict.  It makes you an American.  And, if you leave the lights on your house year-round, you might just be a redneck.  However, making the conscious decision to leave your Christmas decorations up for longer than 6 weeks because you enjoy them may point to a full-blown addiction.  Six weeks is kind of an arbitrary number arrived at by figuring that most people put up the tree the weekend after Thanksgiving.  And, most people take it down after New Year's.  That's about 6 weeks of tree, and it's doubtful that people would have lights up if they don't have their tree up.  So, 6 weeks is probably a "normal" amount of time to leave Christmas decorations up.  If you put up the decorations before Thanksgiving or leave them up after mid-January, and you have actually planned it that way, you have a problem.

You might be a redneck if... your house looks like this in July.

9.  You say things like, "This tastes like Christmas."  Or, "it smells like Christmas."  Or, "Christmas is in the air!"  Any kind of implication that Christmas has physical characteristics of any kind is probably a warning sign.  For instance, many Christmas addicts have a strange pull toward Starbucks' peppermint mochas.  You may not know this, but you can actually get a peppermint mocha any time of the year.  But, it's just not the same as when it is the seasonal drink.  Christmas addicts also burn holiday candles non-stop during the Christmas season.  You may have a favorite scent that "smells like Christmas" to you.  For instance, I think evergreen trees smell like Christmas, so I keep a stock of evergreen-scented candles on hand.  For others, it may be spiced cider or gingerbread.  Addicts have been known to be able to sense snow coming, as well.  The scent of snow is like a drug to them, and they can smell it far before normal people.

10.  Christmas things that other people find cheesy... you find awesome.  Case in point:  Christmas lawn ornaments.  A lot of people find these tacky and horrendous, and would not be caught dead with them on their lawns.  Your lawn, however, contains a glowing Santa and all his reindeer, mechanical elves, huge inflated snowmen, and a complete nativity scene... front and center, with lights to spare.  Your neighbors make comments to you like, "Wow, what's the electricity bill like on these things?"  or  "Don't you think that will tear up your grass?"  in attempts to dissuade your gaudy display.  Everyone slows down as they drive by your house, and people probably come by to see what you did "this year."

The giant Winnie the Pooh is a nice touch.

If you found yourself agreeing with most of these statements, you may be suffering from Christmas addiction.  This list is not exhaustive and is merely meant to serve as a guide for diagnosis.  Addicts each exhibit a unique combination of symptoms at varying levels of severity, so a diagnosis must be made on a case-to-case basis.  There is no known cure for Christmas addiction, but it is still possible for addicts to live a full, relatively normal life.  Warm weather may help keep symptoms under control, but flare-ups are likely to occur in colder temperatures.  The most important thing we can do is educate the public on the disease and promote tolerance and understanding.  Sadly, Christmas addicts are often ostracized or ridiculed by the general public for their condition.  Education is the first step to acceptance.

Vulcans Don't Cry... Much.

Between the ages of 7 and 17, I can remember crying in front of people exactly twice.  I'm sure there may be more, but suffice it to say, I was not a crier.

Crying Episode #1
The first time I remember crying in front of someone was watching The Lion King for the first time, and every single time since.  (SPOILER ALERT!!! - although, if you haven't seen The Lion King, you are dead to me.  Heck, even Disney thinks you really need to see The Lion King.  That is why it is in theaters again!) When Mufasa died, I cried like a baby.  Gauging by the release date, I suppose I was about 10.  Thinking about it now, I am really disturbed by the fact that companies produce movies specifically for children... that make children cry.  Well, that is neither here nor there.

I know how you feel, Simba.

What I specifically remember about this crying occurrence is that my mother saw me crying and started laughing at me.  She came around the chair to look at my face and exclaimed, "Are you CRYING?!"  This made me cry more, and I put the blanket over my entire head and told her to "shut up!" and "leave me alone!" and proceeded to cry in the safety of my plush tent of shame.  I'm not sure why I hid under the blanket, but I felt that if no one could see me crying, it didn't matter that I was sobbing loudly... it simply wouldn't "count."  Actually, come to think of it, I still cover my face when I cry during movies so Steve can't see me cry... or casually act like something is in my eye, or make a comment about my eye watering... allergies...

Anyway, yes, my mother made fun of her minor child for crying during a Disney movie.  Now, it seems like every Disney movie makes me cry... but when I was a child, only two movies ever did it:  The Fox & the Hound and The Lion King.  I watched The Fox & the Hound in seclusion to avoid ridicule.  I can't really blame my mother for laughing at me - after all, this was a rare occurrence.  Though, I can blame her for making me a hardened non-crier who possessed no empathetic capacity whatsoever.  I remember my mom crying ONCE during my entire childhood, from beginning of consciousness to adulthood.  I think it was when my brother and I were being particularly awful in the car one morning, and she just had too much.  Other than that, my family was not exactly what you would call touchy-feely.  I can't remember hugging my parents.  I'm sure I did, but I must have been too young to remember.  We just weren't a family inclined to express ourselves in actions... or words.  We aren't terrible people, I swear.  Just... stoic.

Let's just say I have a strong feeling that this dynamic led to me being a non-crier who absolutely could not comprehend situations in which others would cry, why they were crying, or what to do when they did cry.  I stayed far away from the crying.  And, I still do.  Others crying = me extremely uncomfortable, almost panicky.

Crying Episode #2
When I was 15, I had mono.  I had to stay home from school for two weeks.  I'm not sure if it was the mono, or the combination of the seclusion and stress, but I became severely depressed.  I was so despondent that I broke up with my boyfriend because it made me so sad not to be able to see him (hey, I didn't say I was rational...).  I also remember getting so frustrated by my math homework that I literally threw my textbook across the room and threw a massive hysterical fit, complete with screaming rage and uncontrollable sobbing.

That was the second time I cried in front of people.  I'm not even sure if anyone saw me cry that time, but it was right in the kitchen, so I'm sure my mom was there.  She probably yelled at me for acting ridiculous and told me to go to my room, where I am sure I continued sobbing into my pillow so no one would hear.  I believe it was Algebra II that caused me to fly into a blinding rage... specifically matrices.  I still don't think I ever learned those.  Our Algebra II final was a "partner" test, and I chose my partner wisely.  He had a graphing calculator.

Thanks to mono, I have no idea what this means. 

Ten years later...
I am now a totally girly, hormonal sack of tears.  Everything makes me cry.

I still try to hide it, but things that I would have laughed at people for crying about ten years ago now make me cry.  I never understood how happy things made people cry.  Weddings, babies, heartwarming 20/20 specials... nope, didn't get it.  Why cry if you are happy?  I still am totally without answer for that question, but all I know is that at some magic point in my life, happy things started triggering the tears.

And, of course, I cry at sad things.  Even nominally sad things.  The best example is that TV commercials have made me cry.  There is one where a woman is by her dad's side while he is dying (yes, sad setup there), and she is thinking back on their life together.  I have seriously cried multiple times watching that stupid commercial.  Needless to say, I will never buy whatever product they were selling.  Though, I think it was not a "sales" commercial... it may have been some kind of "values" commercial.

I watched that movie My Sister's Keeper the other day and cried at least five separate times.  It's embarrassing to admit that, and I'm now glad Steve wouldn't watch it with me.  A character dies in a movie/tv show... yep, I'm crying.  Pasta sauce commercials with sad orchestral music?  May tear up a bit.  That terrible TV show Coming Home or whatever it's called, where they surprise people with returning servicemen?  Bawling.  And, you may laugh at me for this one.  I really like the movie Meet Joe Black.  (Yes, I know Brad Pitt is awful in that movie...)  And, while the movie itself makes me cry... even the soundtrack makes me cry.  How pathetic is that?!  It's an orchestral soundtrack... it's not even sad words or anything.  But, even remembering what is happening while that music was playing in the movie is enough to make me cry.

Now, I am not proud of my excessive crying.  I don't want to cry from these things.  I actively fight against it!  I don't feel like a particularly emotional person, and I would not classify myself as overly emotional or even that sensitive of a person.  I blame my female hormones.  The same hormones that made me go from despising babies to fawning over them.  I blame evolution and the human condition.  (I don't really know what all "the human condition" encompasses, but I feel like it makes a great scapegoat for almost anything.)

I am being forced to cry against my will.  It's like some alien being has taken up residence inside my hardened shell of suppressed emotions.  Perhaps my body is making up for all of the not-crying from my younger days.  Or maybe my additional life experience has simply increased my capacity for empathy.  Whatever it is... I don't like it, and I kindly ask that it cease and desist.

I was going to say that I would like to be able to control my emotional responses... but then I thought that sounded kind of like a robot... or a Vulcan.  Hmm...

Technically, I would be a Vulcan.  Superior control over my emotions.

Winter Hours and Mental Health Days For Everyone!

This morning, I woke up at 6:45 and looked outside my window and thought, this is not right.

It was still dark outside.  I know the days have been getting progressively shorter, but today was the first time that I really noticed how dark it was when I woke up in the morning.  Granted, 6:45 is not that early to wake up, but that only reinforces my belief that it should not be dark outside when I wake up.  I live 5 minutes from my office so I don't have to get up when it's dark outside.  I am not a morning person as it is, and having it still be dark when my alarm goes off, thus tricking my body into thinking it's still sleepy-time, is not enjoyable.

I have never relished the idea of waking up when it's dark.  When I was young and rode the bus to school, the bus stopped at my house at about 6:55, so it would actually still be dark when I was outside waiting for the bus in the winter.  It was awful.  I always looked forward to the arrival of spring because it meant it would be light outside when I went to school... and sometimes even when I woke up in the morning.  Sunshine means "wake up."  Didn't people use to wake up with the sun?  The cock-a-doodle-doo and all that?  I propose a return to that system.  Though, not the part where you work from dawn to dusk.  That sounds terrible.  I will skip that portion of historical time-keeping.

Now, I have no problem staying up late at night, well past dark.  I will admit that I often have trouble making myself do anything productive in the evening once the light is gone, but I just don't associate sunset with bedtime as I do sunrise with waketime (which may be a word I just made up. Webster's, I'll have my people contact your people...).  I will stay up until all hours of the night, and it doesn't bother me one bit.  In fact, I rarely go to bed before 11:30.  But, something about waking up and it still being dark is depressing to me.  I associate it more with having to leave on a long trip somewhere than with normal activity.  Growing up, we often drove to Florida for vacation.  And, my mom had the idea to leave at 2:00 a.m. so we would get down there by the afternoon and still have "the rest of the day" at the beach.  Gotta squeeze in all the beach you can!  I always begged her to let us fly so I didn't have to get up in the middle of the night, but to no avail.  Without fail, I would go right back to sleep in the car and sleep until a normal waking hour... like 7:00.  Obviously, I would never survive shift work.  Thank God for regular-ish business hours!

Which brings me to my great epiphany that I had this morning.  When I woke up, I thought to myself, work hours should change based on daylight hours.  It was like a light went off in my head!  (unintentional pun-nyness)  I mean, hey, we have daylight saving time to make the day "longer"... why not abbreviate work hours in the winter?  Right now, I work 8-6.  It is daylight out for most of my work day year-round, but in the winter, I have basically zero daylight hours outside of the time I'm at work.  It is dark for the rest of my day.  All of the sunshine is wasted on work!  In the summer, I get plenty of morning and evening daylight based on my 8-6 work schedule.  To get the same amount of sunshine outside of work in winter, I think I would have to work 9-4 or something like that.  Ahh, even just imagining it is glorious!  9-4... now, that would be the life.  And if any of you actually work 9-4, I hate you.  Just saying.  I wonder if Seasonal Affective Disorder (appropriately acronymed SAD) is a legitimate basis to cut back winter working hours.  You know, like "mental health days."  Does anyone actually take those?  Ah, to have a job where your boss wouldn't laugh at you and tell you to stop ruining his mental health if you told him you were taking a "mental health day."  Who gets to take those?  Yoga instructors?  Seems like your mental health would be a good excuse for not being able to teach yoga effectively.

The idea of "winter hours" is just the newest in my long list of great ideas to increase worker productivity and satisfaction, or at least my productivity and satisfaction.  Along with afternoon naps, non-smoke breaks, Casual Everyday, early releases on Friday, working from home on Mondays, free child care, mandatory four weeks of vacation... the list goes on and on.


As a parting note, Wikipedia describes the symptoms of Seasonal Affective Disorder as the following:

"Symptoms of SAD may consist of difficulty waking up in the morning, morning sickness, tendency to oversleep and over eat, especially a craving for carbohydrates, which leads to weight gain. Other symptoms include a lack of energy, difficulty concentrating on or completing tasks, and withdrawal from friends, family, and social activities. All of this leads to the depression, pessimistic feelings of hopelessness, and lack of pleasure which characterize a person suffering from this disorder."

Wait... isn't this almost every normal person in the winter? Way to reinforce my hypochondria, Wikipedia.

I so hope my library has this.

ALCRTY and the Art of Vanity Plates

Somewhere, some car possesses a personalized ("vanity") license plate that is clever and worthy of existence.  I have yet to encounter this car, but many have tried and fallen short of glory.

No.

Awful.

This mildly amuses me.

Seriously, though... I hate vanity license plates.  I have yet to see one that makes me think "I would totally want to have that 6-letter phrase on my car every day as a representation of myself for all the world to see."  I can't even think of something that I would put on a license plate if forced to make a vanity plate.  Not one single thing comes to mind that I like so much I would want it in writing on my vehicle.

I'm very indecisive... and capricious.  I used to change the style and color of my hair constantly because I could never make up my mind and got tired of each style so quickly.  I had trouble with long-term relationships because I always craved change.  I don't like making a decision and having to stick with it.  I grow restless.  This is why I'm convinced that I could never get a tattoo.  And why I stress over what I could possibly name my future hypothetical children.  How I have managed to remain married for over 5 years is a mystery.  Must be one of those "the exception proves the rule" things, a concept that I have yet to fully grasp.


I think that vanity license plates generally fall into three categories:  descriptive, names, and undecipherable.

Descriptive:  Refers to a characteristic of the driver or the car.  Some actual examples:  HOTROD, HI IQ 2, EYE DR, LUV BUG, MOMSCAR, LAWYER (particularly awful - are you not afraid of some criminal bashing your car in?)

Names:  Simply the person's name/nickname, in some configuration.  Some actual examples:  MANDY, JEN 92, JLX4 (all 4 members of family had initials JL).

Undecipherable:  Either I can't figure out what it is supposed to say, or don't understand why it is on a license plate.  I can't remember any from the former category, as they are simply jumbles of letters/numbers to me, but here are some examples of the second category:  ALCRTY (Alacrity, I'm guessing?  But, why?), NVSWRK (Nervous Wreck - again, why put this on your car?).


What prompted this post?  I saw the ALCRTY license plate, and I had to look up what the word alacrity even meant to understand why someone had this as their license plate.  Alacrity:  promptness in response; cheerful readiness.  Cheerful readiness?  Nope, not seeing it.  Simply a weird license plate.  Or I guess it could have meant "a-la-carte-y"... but, seriously, what's the point of a vanity plate if the driver is the only one who 1) knows what it even says and 2) understands the meaning behind it.  The whole reason they are called vanity plates is because they are for all the world to see... something "personalized" that represents something about you.  What's the point if no one "gets" it?

My last license plates were AB8... then a combination of 3 random letters/numbers (which I will not disclose so no one tries to steal my identity... hey, it could happen!).  Because AB8 sounds like "abate", I was seriously concerned that someone would assume it was a personalized plate, and try to figure out some meaning for the second set of numbers.  This troubled me.  It wasn't simply the fact that people might think I had vanity plates, but who knows what kind of awful or ridiculous things they could come up with for what my plate meant?  I was very happy when I got new plates that resemble no words whatsoever.  I am a nondescript member of the driving community, once more!  Huzzah!

No offense to my vanity plate friends... after all, some of my examples came from friends and family members.  I do not judge people for having vanity plates.  I simply, personally, hate the plates.  Thus far in life, I've never seen a vanity plate that has inspired a change of mind.  And, ALCRTY is not helping the cause...

Dream Jobs: TV Show Recapper

When I'm at work, I often daydream about the jobs I wish I had.  I'm sure everyone does this... probably even the people working at my "dream jobs."  Or, maybe the people working at my dream jobs wake up every morning and leap for joy at the prospect of another day on the job.  My cynical self likes to believe no one is that satisfied with their job.  I'm sure ice cream testers get sick of eating ice cream.  I'm sure professional athletes get sick of playing the same sport over and over again for exorbitant amounts of money.  And, I'm sure J.K. Rowling gets sick of Harry Potter.  Oh, who am I kidding?  No one gets sick of Harry Potter.  If I wrote the Harry Potter books, I'd wake up every morning and congratulate myself.  "Well, good morning, self.  You are incredibly talented, rich, and awesome.  What shall I do today?  Oh, that's right... whatever I want!  Because I'm filthy rich from writing the most successful book series in recent history.  Well done, me!"  Then I would ring my maid and ask her to serve warm scones and tea in the "parlor," because I would have one of those in my mansion.  After breakfast, I would retire to the "drawing room" for a day of leisure and dabbling in my assorted refined hobbies.  Did I mention another dream of mine is to live in a Jane Austen novel?

A sneak peek into the parlor of my historic estate in the English countryside.

I decided my "dream jobs" may serve as another fascinating featurette for myself on the blog.  I say fascinating "for myself" because I like to give myself reasonable parameters for success.  If I have learned anything in life, it's that low expectations are fundamental to self-esteem and overall life satisfaction.  You know that saying, "Shoot for the moon... even if you miss, you'll land among the stars"?  One, that saying is factually incorrect, as the stars are farther away than the moon (or perhaps the author is employing a very liberal definition of the word "among").  Two, if you shoot for something and fail to attain it, you will be disappointed, no matter where you end up.  That's simply life.  Take, for example, a story of two children climbing trees.  The first child is arrogant and says he is going to climb all the way to the highest branch.  The second is more humble and only wants to make it to the first branch.  Both children make it halfway up the tree, to, say, the fourth branch.  They have both ended up in the same place, but who do you think is more excited about it?  Yeah, that's what I thought.  Now, I'm not saying to underestimate yourself.  I'm saying you will probably be happier if you set realistic goals for yourself.  Which is what I do with my blog.  I write for my own enjoyment, and if it happens to entertain others, fantastic!


Now... on to my first dream job!  A TV show recapper.  For those of you who do not read entertainment websites, this is someone who writes summaries of TV shows after they air.  Usually they are more than simply a dry synopsis of the night's occurrences.  The good ones include funny observations or insights from the author, or perhaps a "running gag" that the author likes to employ.  One that I read has a list of her favorite quotes from the episode at the end.  One always points out when the male characters take their shirts off (something I never miss when watching a show...).  Things like that.  I don't read the recaps because I want to know what happened... I already know what happened.  I read them because they entertain me.  They are written by witty individuals who get paid to provide clever recaps of their favorite TV shows.  For any TV fan, this position is a dream come true.  To be able to share your thoughts on a TV show with the rest of the world, as an authoritative source for entertainment news? Be still, my beating heart!

Instead of writing humorous recaps of my favorite television shows, and believe me, I watch more than I would like to admit, I sit writing legal documents all day.  Sigh.  It's not that I don't enjoy being an attorney... I would just much rather be sitting on my couch at home, in my pajamas, getting paid to write TV show recaps.  The benefits are endless.  Working from home - saving time, energy, and gas.  Not having to get dressed - less laundry is good for the environment and my sanity.  The list could go on and on.  Basically, I would be watching TV as my job.  I already watch TV like it's my job.  I can only imagine how much better it would be if it actually was my job!

I'm not even sure how one goes about becoming a TV show recapper... but I would hazard a guess that it involves living in New York or LA.  And, some kind of journalist/writing experience or education.  And connections.  Sadly, I do not fit the bill for any of these made-up requirements, so I suppose this dream job will have to remain just that.

Or perhaps I will start my own TV show recap website.  Stay tuned...

Follow-Up...

Just a little self-validating follow up for a couple of blog entries....

Creepy Kids:
I was perusing the interwebs (interwebs, by the way, is my favorite obnoxious term for the internet), and I came across a slideshow called "18 Creepy Movie/TV Kids", and lo and behold, a good majority of my own creepy kids made it on the list!  Granted, some of the kids were not the same "version" of the kids on my list.  Like, they had the new Omen child, and I had the original one.  And vice versa on Village of the Damned.  But, still, these listmakers obviously know their creepy kids...

All-Natural:
I read an article saying that people are suing companies over the use of the label "all natural" as basically being fraud against consumers.  The article notes that the FDA has not really defined "all natural," and has only said that it's anything that is "not artificial or synthetic".  But, of course, what is the difference between those and how are they defined?  In my blog post on the topic, I posited that it was almost impossible to define "all natural" in a way that could be uniformly applied.

So, I say... good luck with that, FDA.  Enjoy the lawsuits.  How about we just ban the use of the term "all natural"?  Problem solved!

Judgmental Librarian:
A few weeks ago, we went out with some friends that live close to us, and we got to talking about books.  I said that I had been reading a lot, getting books from the county library.  My friend said that he always hates going to the library because he feels like one of the librarians is critiquing his book selection when he checks out.  I said, "I completely know who you mean.  Is it the guy?  Because he is so unpleasant."  He replied, "Yes!  I definitely know who you are talking about."  I informed him of the new self check-out, and he was very pleased to not have to deal with Judgmental Librarian, as well.

I felt so validated.

And, also, what is better than avoiding Judgmental Librarian with self check-out?  Checking out e-books on my Nook and completely avoiding any contact with the actual library at all!  Also, there is no way you can forget to return an e-book because it just disappears at the end of the rental period.  Magic!  Technology!

Orby, Our Backyard Spider:
I am sad to report that, due to gale force winds in a recent storm, Orby has disappeared.  I am sad to report this for two reasons:  1. I never got to see him eat a cricket (thought, we did feed him a fly, and it was just as awesome as I had imagined it would be), and  2. He could be anywhere now... and will undoubtedly scare the bejeesus out of me when I find him... or his progeny...

Embarrassingly, Blissfully Unaware...

The other night, we were watching the presidential address, and I turned to my husband and asked him, "What's our vice president's name again?"  I seriously drew a total blank on the name of our vice president.  I also had to ask who the Speaker of the House was.

At first, I was kind of embarrassed that I know so little about politics, especially the people running our country. Actually, if you asked me right now, I don't think I could name my state's senators.  They all just blend together - past senators, present senators, people who ran for Senate... I could randomly name people that I know are associated with the Senate somehow, but could not put my finger on who is currently serving.  You would think that, being an attorney and a PoliSci/History double major, I would know more about the government.  But, you'd be wrong.  I truly know embarrassingly little about the governance of our country.

After being embarrassed for a second, I realized that it made no difference to me who these people were.  My life is totally content without an exhaustive knowledge of politics.  I remember when I used to care about politics quite a bit, but eventually I became disillusioned with both sides and exhausted by the effort it took to care about it.  I decided that I thought our political system was broken, and I could not support either side.  It was disheartening to me to debate politics with people who were so intolerant of other's views and those who just blindly followed their party platforms without using their own brain.  And, this came at me from both sides... as I agreed with each party on different things.  Finally, I was driven to apathy and decided to stop following politics or even talking about it unless someone absolutely wanted to and could do so rationally.  I still vote, but I vote Libertarian on anything I can and "any other third party candidate" on everything else.  I have to describe myself as Libertarian because that's the closest I can get to a label that I feel I can associate myself with.  And, if I can throw support behind the thing I "most" agree with, great.  When it's not an option, I throw votes to anyone who isn't part of the current system.  I am happy to endorse any kind of change (except like, the evil kind...).

And, rather than spend my time being angry about the way the country is headed, or disgusted by party politics and the attendant garbage, I spend my time being blissfully unaware.  You know what matters to me?  My life.  My family, my friends, my job, my happiness.  You know what doesn't matter to me?  Politics and all of the lies, broken promises, intolerance, and general contentiousness that accompany it.  At the end of the day, why waste my energy on that?  Why let that be another stressor in my already crowded life?  Why invest so much of my well-being in something I have no control over and can only react to as an observer?  Watching coverage of political topics on TV or on news sites makes me feel depressed and disgusted.  "He's wrong, she's wrong... he's a philanderer... she's an idiot.  You have to be stupid to believe that.  My way is the only way.  I'm right.  They're horrible people because they don't agree with me.  He's rich, so he'll win."  Blah, blah, BLAH.  No one seems to focus on actually making America better, at least not beyond the campaign promises.  Congress can only work together on things like approving a memorial day for 9/11 victims.  That's something everyone can get behind.  Creating jobs in America and boosting the economy?  Not unless there's something in it for them, and specifically, something they can point to for re-election.  Gotta please the base!

I guess I should clarify that I am relatively informed on most of the major issues in politics.  I have an informed opinion about most political/social issues, and for those on which I am not informed, I remain apathetic.  I do still vote in all major elections, and even some not-so-major ones.  I just don't get too invested, which is good, since my candidates will never win.

People say that ignorance is bliss.  Some people say that ignorance is stupidity.... or laziness.... or whatever else it is that people say.  In this case, for me, ignorance is bliss.  It truly makes my life happier to not care about politics.  Does this make me uninformed?  Yes.  Does it make me stupid?  No.  Do I care that I'm uninformed?  Again, a big no.  I don't feel I am a "bad citizen" for keeping myself out of the political discourse.  In fact, I feel I am an ideal citizen because I am choosing a path for myself that makes me a happier, more productive, and more well-adjusted person.  This has to have a positive effect on the world around me, and thus, I am helping America by remaining blissfully unaware.  It is not the path for everyone... after all, someone has to care about politics.  I applaud those people, not only because of their dedication to their convictions, but also because they make it possible for me to remain a mainly apathetic observer.  We are all different pieces of the American puzzle, and I am happy with where I fit.

Somewhat embarrassingly, but definitely blissfully, unaware...

Our Newest Backyard Resident

So, yesterday we were out grilling in the yard, and I saw this huge spiderweb built between our fence and some plants.  It was one of those big Charlotte's Web-type things... about 3 feet wide, maybe.  It basically looked kind of like this:

I looked up the spider from Charlotte's Web, and it actually is in the same family as the spider in my yard... I will check each day for special messages from the spider... 

I got closer to take a look, and what was resting in the middle but this guy:

His body was almost the size of a dime, and his legs were long and creepy.  He was just sitting there in the middle, waiting for his prey to fall in his trap.  I say "he" even though I'm almost positive this is a female spider, and I am even more positive that she is going to hatch a billion eggs in my yard and fill my garden with her progeny.

Needless to say, I freaked out when I saw this thing.  I do NOT like creepy-crawlies, evidenced by the fact that I made an entire post about the worst creepy-crawlies.  I get this involuntary shudder in my body, and my gag reflex wants to kick in.  They gross me out.  Just thinking about it right now is making me kind of nervous.  

I was too afraid to kill the spider, as it was sitting on this huge web... and I was convinced that if I tried to kill it, it would fall off the web, and it might scurry into my house.  This was my line of thinking.  A "known" creepy-crawly is much less scary than an unknown one.  One sitting in its web in the plants:  safety.  One on the loose, possibly crawling in my bed:  scary.

So, I decided to look up what this nasty spider was.  I found out that it is a marbled orb weaver spider.  It is not aggressive to humans, though if it does bite you, it feels like a bee sting and won't really hurt you.  So, I decided to spare its life, mostly for the aforementioned reason that I didn't want to free it from its web and have it be on the loose.  I don't care how "safe" it is to humans, that thing is NOT crawling on me.  Plus, I am really weird about killing large bugs.  Small bugs are easy.  You just swat them with something and *poof* gone.  Large bugs are more resilient and "crunchier".  The crunching really grosses me out.  When I get a particularly large house centipede, it crunches when I kill it, and the sound makes me gag.  The worst crunchy creepy crawly in memory is this huge millipede that I saw crawling on our basement floor when I was down there using the computer in high school (seriously, it was like... 6 inches long and almost an inch wide).  It was like 1am, so I couldn't wake anyone up to come kill it.  So, I grabbed my dad's shoe and hit it.  And it didn't even crack its body armor!  I had to hit it like 5 or 6 times, and it was this huge gooey, crunchy mess.  Wow, it was nasty.  I would like to avoid repeating that experience for the rest of my life, if possible.

So, for now, Mr. Orb Weaver has a free pass to continue lording over my backyard with his giant web of death.  I think I shall call him Orby for short.  I read about someone who killed a mosquito and threw it on the spider's web, and she quickly consumed it.  I am anxious to try this with Orby... if he does not decide to relocate his web.  I will embrace his presence in my yard, as long as he stays on his web and doesn't try to infiltrate the house.  I guess, for the time being, I have a gigantic pet spider.  Yuck.  

Keep your friends close...




UPDATE:  Picture of the REAL Orby!  (or at least his underside... he won't face the camera, lol)

If I ran the world...

If I ran the world, I can think of a number of things I would do.  I decided to limit this list to 20 items, as I believe all lists should be nice, round numbers.  And, it is really unrealistic to believe anyone would read a list of more than 20 things.  Honestly, I figure most people read a 20-item list in multiple sittings.  Who has the attention span for a list this long?  Not I.  It took me 4 sittings just to write the dang thing.  As I thought of more things, I added on.  For everyone's benefit, I cut myself off at 20.  I reserve the right to make an entirely new post of additional items in the future.  These are just the first twenty to pop in my head... enjoy.
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1.  There would be no handles on doors that you are supposed to PUSH.  The necessity for this edict was confirmed by another attorney at the courthouse the other day.  They have a door there that has a big handle on it, but you push it open.  He grabbed the handle, shook the door, and told the clerk, "One day I'm going to come up here and take this damn handle off the door!"  I think this every time I go to my bank and pull the door handle and look like a doofus.

2.  $1 would be deducted from the price of a doctor's visit for every minute you have to sit in the waiting room past your appointment time.  If I want medical attention, I am simply at the mercy of my doctor's time management skills?  I call that extortion.

3.  Every street would have a bike lane so I wouldn't have to drive slowly behind cyclists until I can find room to go around.  Don't even get me started on cyclists following traffic laws...

4.  QT crushed ice would be the standard ice for every food and drink establishment.  Everyone knows it is the best kind of ice... why can't anyone else make it?  What DO they do to their ice to make it so soft and crunchable?

5.  It would be illegal to shut down more than one lane of an intersection at one time.  Reducing a 5-lane interstate down to 2 lanes is just asking for all kinds of badness and stupidity.

6.  If your flight got delayed more than 30 minutes for something other than weather conditions, your flight would be free... like with pizza delivery.  I understand that there are many reasons out of an airline's control that may be responsible for delayed flights.  I also understand the pizza guy might hit traffic.  Guess he'll leave earlier next time!

7.  The paperback version of a book would come out at the same time as the hardcover.  None of this "if you want to read the next book in the series right away, you must submit yourself to highway robbery" stuff.  I refuse to pay more than $10 for a book.  Unless it's a new Harry Potter...

8.  Movie theaters would have "adults only" days with no children allowed.  No, I am not against children.  I love kids.  I am simply against the effect children have on my viewing experience.  When I have my own children, I will not take them to anything but G and PG movies until they are in junior high, I pinkie swear it.

9.  Heck, everything would have "adults only" days.  We went to an "adults-only" resort for vacation this year.  I used to think "adults-only" meant topless sunbathing.  It actually means a completely relaxing, quiet vacation full of uninterrupted bliss.  I can only imagine the benefits of implementing the concept in other facets of life....  I will say it again; I do not hate kids.  I think even my parent friends can agree that there are just some times when kid-free is better...

10.  No restaurants or coffee shops would close before 7pm.  I can think of more than 5 places within walking distance of my house that close after lunch.  Not cool.  I love nothing more than walking to the sandwich shop to pick up some dinner at 6, only to find out they close at 4.  Who closes a sandwich place at 4!?

11.  The zoo would be open until sundown.  Seriously, why can't I go to the zoo on a weeknight?!  Do the animals go to bed at 5:00?

12.  Stoplights would be timed appropriately.  No more hitting every stoplight on a major road.  I have two stoplights on my 8 block drive to work every morning.  They are timed perfectly so that when one turns green, the next one turns red right before you get to it.  Yes, I know 8 blocks is close enough to walk.  You walk in heels in 95 degrees.

13.  I would "work from home" every day.  I am not ashamed to admit that I am incredibly jealous of people who can work from home and actually think evil thoughts about them in my head when I see their Facebook status say "Working from home today ;)."  One day, I will have a job where I can work from home, and I will never post about it on Facebook.  That's called "empathy."

14.  I would not let wealthy people compete on shows that award prize money, unless they are playing for charity.  Who wants to root for a millionaire to win another million dollars?  Not I!

15.  I would bring back "exile" as a common form of punishment.  Not sure where I would exile people to... maybe fence in part of Russia or something.  I had to write a paper in a political theory class about what I thought the US should do with Saddam Hussein if they captured him (this was before we actually did, obviously), based on the texts we read in class.  I chose exile.  I won't go into my brilliant in-depth analysis of political theory that led me to that conclusion, but let's just say, it was the perfect punishment.  Bring it back!

16.  Cell phones would get reception at my parents' house.  You can go one mile in almost any direction from my parents' house and get perfect reception.  They live on a HILL.  Why can't you get cell phone reception there?  If you look at a cell phone reception map, I can point to the exact location of my parents' house because there is a tiny hole in the coverage right where they live.  When I go to their house, it's like I cease to exist to the rest of the world.  Which is not always a good thing.

17.  My title would be Supreme Overlord.  If that's a reference to something, I don't know what it is.  I just like the name and believe it fitting for the ruler of the world.  If it is a reference to something evil, I kind of apologize.  If it is a reference to something awesome, I knew it! 

18.  There would be "retirement communities" or "assisted-living facilities" for all ages.  I hear senior citizens talk about their communities, and I am genuinely jealous.  When I tell them that I wish I could live there, they kind of laugh at me.  But, I am totally serious!  I want someone to clean my apartment.  I wish someone cooked all my meals for me.  I wish I had country-club-style amenities at my doorstep.  These things are not just for the retired and elderly!  I could make an argument that working young people could benefit even more from these services than retired people.  This is my million-dollar idea, people!  "Active living communities" for all ages!  If you steal my idea, I will know.  Any backers?

19.  Routine check-ups would actually check you for things that may be wrong with you, instead of just telling you that your heart is beating and how much you weigh.  Maybe we could implement full-body scans for everyone!  I know these are supposedly costly, but I would be interested to know if giving everyone full-body scans and detecting problems early would cost less than not doing it and finding problems way late, thus incurring more costs in treatment.  Regardless, I would at least like a full body scan.  I am a hypochondriac.  I should check if my insurance would cover such a thing...

20.  Coins would no longer exist.  I am sick of my wallet being heavy because it's filled with change.  Why do we even have cash anymore?  How hard can it be to tie everyone's fingerprints to their bank accounts.  This would have a two-fold benefit.  People would always have money at their fingertips (pun-ny), and thefts would decrease exponentially.  Though, I guess the number of dismemberments may increase...

Too Fast to Live, Too Young to Die.

Before I get started with this post, I am issuing a general disclaimer upfront that this post is nothing like my usual lighthearted posts and is simply something weighing on my mind. 
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The title of today's blog is the quote that was on a t-shirt that I gave my little brother for his 16th birthday.  About two months after I gave him that t-shirt, he was killed in a car accident.  I remember feeling sick to my stomach thinking about  having given him that t-shirt... like I had been tempting fate in some way.  But, when my mom and I went through his stuff to pick out the "things" of his that we wanted to keep, that t-shirt was the one item of clothing that I felt I needed to hold on to.  Kind of a contradiction that the one thing that made me feel so disgusted was the one thing I wanted to keep.  But, the truth was, it was the last gift I had given him, and he had absolutely loved it.  It was totally "him" and I knew it was something that would forever remind me of who he was and the time we had together.

With that little explanation out of the way, there are two reasons that my brother is weighing on my mind, and one of them helped me decide to write this blog entry to get it off my chest.

Reason 1:  Monday night, an acquaintance of mine asked if I had any siblings.  I hesitated for a second, and then I said "No, it's just me."  I regretted my response and felt guilty immediately after I said it, and I started thinking of some way to tell her the truth the next time I saw her.  What would I say?  "You know how I said I had no siblings... yeah, that was a lie."  How ridiculous would that sound?  Who lies about that?  Me, that's who.  The truth is, I have always struggled and still struggle with what to say when people ask me that question.  I told my husband about it, and asked him what I should say.  He said "Say you have a brother, but he died."  I told him, "Do you know how terrible that sounds?!"  Seriously, when you tell someone something like that, people get this look on their face.  They automatically feel sorry for you and don't know what to say.  It's awkward for everyone, and frankly, I hate feeling like people feel sorry for me.  I hate feeling pitied.  Especially by people who barely know me and who definitely didn't know my brother.  And, then to have to say the obligatory "Oh, thanks" or "It's okay... it was a long time ago."  I just hate it.

I seriously rehearse scenarios in my head of what to say when someone asks me if I have a sibling, and I weigh the pros and cons of each.  Obviously, the easiest, least-explanation route is to say "No."  Then, comes the guilt trip about not recognizing my brother's existence and his importance in my life, which comes every time I use that explanation (like Monday night).  Sometimes I just say that "Yes, I have a brother."  But, then when people ask about him, I have to inevitably explain, which can sometimes be even worse after they know you have a brother... having to then explain that he's deceased.  And, of course, sometimes I say "My brother died when I was in college."  I'd say it's a pretty even split between how often I use the three explanations.  It's been over 6 years since he died, and I still cannot for the life of me figure out how to explain it to people.  Maybe I'll never figure it out.  Life is a game of trial and error, but sometimes it feels like it's just too filled with both...

Reason 2:  Well, Reason 2 is the reason I'm here writing about Reason 1.  Today, I came to my blog because I have been so busy lately I haven't had time to write an entry, and I finally had a free moment to start a new post.  I signed in, and I saw my page view count.  It read: 555 views.  555.  05-05-05.  That was the day of my brother's funeral.  I will always remember that day because I thought it was so fitting for my brother.  That number is something that gave me peace of mind, that helped me believe that there was a reason and a plan for my brother's life... and his death.  You see, many people who knew my brother would know that he had a fascination with numbers.  His favorite time of the day was 11:11 because it was "all ones!"  He would always point out repeating patterns like that.  When I saw the date printed on his funeral program, the pattern hit me.  And, I thought, how fitting.  It could have felt a little like a cosmic joke, but instead, it gave me comfort.  It made me feel like it was just "meant to be."  Regardless of how painful it was and how unfair it felt... at that moment, I accepted it.


And, today, seeing that number, I again felt that moment of acceptance.  Accepting that as much as I don't want to admit it, I still struggle... I still feel that loss.  I can still feel it hovering under the surface.  Sometimes I can't remember what his voice sounded like, and I feel that sense of panic.  Sometimes I can't remember what my life was like with him in it, and it makes me want to cry.  I curse my mind for not being able to hold on to him better, for not locking all of those memories away somewhere safe, where they can never leave.  I wish he was still here every day.  Every day.

I guess sometimes it's just hard to match the outside with the in... to find a balance between what you feel and what you show the world.  I don't want to feel pitied, but I also don't want to ignore this person who was and is such a big part of my life and who I am.  I suppose all that anyone can ever do is take it day by day.  And, I'm working on it...

I feel like I owe "The Hills" an apology...

To "The Hills" and all other fake reality shows out there:  I'm sorry.

I watched The Hills once... yes, once.  It was so terrible, I couldn't bring myself to watch another episode.  I understand that it was terrible in a must-see-tv kind of way, but still, it was just one bandwagon I never jumped on.  Now, NYC Prep - that was an awesome guilty pleasure reality show.  That show was so ridiculous, I laughed insanely at every episode.  I still don't know if it was supposed to be funny...  But, back to The Hills.  I didn't like it because it didn't seem at all like reality.  It was so staged, it made it difficult to watch as "reality" television.  And, after hearing the stars discussing how they reenacted scenes and made certain occurrences more dramatic for taping, I decided I was happy with my decision to forgo that particular reality show.  And, really, all other "reality" shows that aren't real.  I thought, that's not reality.  How can you call it a reality show when it's not real?!


I made the assumption, however, that a reality show would be improved by actually reflecting reality.  I assumed that people wanted to see "reality"... that I wanted to see reality.  I wanted real reality.

Well, tonight, I saw a real reality show, and it was terrible.  Absolutely terrible!

The show was Extreme Makeover: Weight Loss Edition.  Now, the show itself isn't completely "real", to be sure.  They say the guy stays with the people for 3 months and lives with them... I don't believe it.  They don't really mention the fact that they pay for the contestants' healthy food for the year-long show.  They dump all these resources in the person's lap and help them lose weight at an unnatural pace.  Now, it's more realistic than The Biggest Loser, but still, it skirted the delicate balance between reality and tv production pretty well.  I admit that I enjoyed watching someone lose 200 pounds over the course of a one-hour TV show.  I loved seeing the people emerge at their reveal and show that happy ever after.  In reality, it's incredibly difficult to lose weight as quickly and as successfully as these people do, but it's inspiring to see it happen... and America loves a good success story.  We love rooting for the underdog... overcoming obstacles, persevering, accomplishing their goals.  It makes us feel good inside to see it happen.

You know what doesn't make you feel good inside?  Seeing the underdog fail.  This week's episode of Extreme Makeover: Weight Loss Edition featured a 490 pound man.  In the first 3 months, the guy lost 110 pounds, putting him at 380 pounds.  Yay!  Go, guy, go!  We love to see that.  In the second 3 months, he struggled and only lost 20 pounds, putting him at 360.  But, still, positive progress... struggling to overcome obstacles... just enough reality sprinkled in to make it relate-able to viewers.  Over the next three months... the guy gained back over 60 pounds.  He was eating fast food every day, not working out, sneaking around behind his wife's back to cheat on his diet, not sticking to the program... and he even admitted he had become suicidal because he felt worthless and felt like a failure at everything he did.  So, the trainer on the show decided he was beyond his help because he was so addicted to food... and the trainer took him to a food addict rehab facility and left.  That was the end.  No reveal, no weight loss story, just a guy losing weight, then gaining most of it back because he was addicted to food.

At first, I kind of thought... hmm, well, I guess they can't have every episode be a big successful weight loss story.  Then, I was kind of mad that I didn't get to see what I tuned into the show to see.  It's called Extreme Makeover: Weight Loss Edition.  There was barely any weight loss, and there was definitely no extreme makeover!  I told Steve that this would be like Extreme Makeover: Home Edition saying "Sorry poor people, we're not building you a house, after all!"  Can you imagine Extreme Makeover: Home Edition with no house?!  No, because it's ridiculous!  (After reading this out loud to Steve, his comical reaction:  "Move that bus!  No, don't move that bus!  Because there's no house!")

This made me decide that I don't actually want reality in my reality shows.  Is it realistic that someone who is morbidly obese turns right back to their old ways the second they aren't being monitored, and gains the weight back?  Yes, that is totally realistic.  But it's terrible television!  No one wants to see a suicidal, depressed, food addict on these kinds of shows.  They want to see someone overcoming the death of their father and losing 200 pounds and going from zero to hero in an hour flat!  These shows are supposed to be inspirational!

It's just like how everyone got so mad when The Bachelor turned down both of his choices.  Is it realistic that a person will not find love among 20 preselected contestants over the course of 8 weeks?  Yes.  But, again, no one wants to see that!  They want to see the love, even if it's a sham.  It's the same reason women on Survivor now are given toiletries to shave their legs and armpits.  No one wants to see women's hairy legs on TV every week, no matter how realistic.

So, I feel like I have to apologize to The Hills.  Even though, I still think it was a terrible TV show, I admit that I can no longer discount it for its lack of reality.  I think I always knew that the general public didn't want to see actual reality... but I never suspected that I didn't want to see actual reality.  I thought what would improve reality television, what would make me like it, and what it really lacked, was "reality"... but, I guess it must be something else...

27 Holidays

Well, my birthday was this weekend.  And, I was true to my word and spent it almost exactly as I said I would.  It was a pretty ordinary day, with just enough special touches to recognize the "occasion."  I went to the gym Saturday morning, like usual.  Then, we went out to eat, and I got my crab legs just like I wanted.  We then picked up ridiculously huge cupcakes, some champagne, and a Redbox movie.  After watching the movie, I did laundry and played my new Harry Potter Wii game (I turned 27, not 12, incidentally...).  My birthday "celebration" ended the next day, on Sunday night, when I went to see The Little Mermaid musical at the local theater with my mom, aunt, and cousin (again, I swear, 27!).  This weekend was just as ordinary as it was "special," and you know what?  I enjoyed it!  I also enjoyed getting carded at the grocery store... which, sadly, hasn't happened in a while.

Some people kind of "apologized" to me for how I was spending my birthday, or thought I was complaining when I explained what I was doing.  I was like, "No, this is actually what I want to do!"  It's the same thing with our anniversary.  Steve told someone at work that we were going to see Harry Potter for our anniversary.  She told him he needed to buy me diamonds.  He had to explain to her that I really wanted to go see Harry Potter and didn't want diamonds.  I don't think she believed him, still.  What is so hard to believe, really?

I think I just have no special attachment to holidays... except Christmas... I love Christmas.  Other holidays?  I don't really care to celebrate anything but Thanksgiving... and I don't care about doing it on Thanksgiving.  I just really like stuffing.  I could live without New Year's, Valentine's Day, Easter, Independence Day, Halloween, and whatever other holidays people celebrate.  I stopped celebrating Halloween the moment my mother agreed I didn't have to go trick-or-treating anymore.  I begged to stay home and hand out candy.  So, in 6th grade, I got my wish.  And, I've never dressed up again since.  I also ask Steve not to get me anything for Valentine's Day.  More than once, my only Valentine's Day request has been to eat at Chipotle.  I'm a romantic, what can I say?

I'd love to say that the reason I don't like holidays is because of the commercialization by corporate America, or that it's against my religion, or some other equally lofty excuse.  Alas, the only thing I can come up with is that I must just not care.  I really don't understand the fun of Halloween, the romance of Valentine's Day, or the concept of celebrating the first day of the year on a calendar we invented.  I am Christian and understand the importance of Easter, but, again, it's just an arbitrary day.  No one is really in agreement as to when the "actual" date was, and I figure I celebrate the Resurrection through my faith every day.  I'm fine with a special church service, but I don't need Easter candy, a card, or a big meal on that particular Sunday.  I am also American and understand the significance of celebrating our independence.  I just think it's kind of become an excuse to barbecue and watch fireworks (both things that I enjoy).  I have no attachment to doing those things on that particular day, except that it's what I've always done.  I feel like I'm celebrating our independence every day simply by doing the things I want to do.  That's what independence is all about, right?  I feel no more patriotic on July 4 than any other day of the year, so why should I have to pretend?

I will say that I dislike "recognition" days, like Mother's Day, Father's Day, Grandparent's Day, and such.... simply because I really feel like these are made-up holidays.  If someone is important enough for their own "day", you should probably be recognizing them all the time in some way.  I argue that designating a "day" for recognition gives you an excuse to not recognize them the rest of the year; just save it all for the one day.  It's like... "Oh, Mom, I guess I should do nice things for you today because it's Mother's Day."  When it should be more like... "Oh, Mom, I do nice things for you on a regular basis because I love and appreciate you every day."  And, just remember, every holiday we create probably inches the divorce rate up a bit... the more holidays you have, the more you have for a spouse to forget, and for the other spouse to feel unappreciated or resentful.  Also, family gatherings can cause a lot of stress and drama, and bring up deep-rooted, recurring intrafamily issues.  Those all sound like pretty good excuses reasons to dislike "made-up" holidays to me.

I am, however, all for any holiday that causes me to get a day off of work.  It doesn't mean I have to actually celebrate it or like celebrating it... I am still happy those holidays exist.  But, any holiday that the government gets off, but I don't... I hate those holidays.  I get off work = love.  Courthouse closed, but I'm still at work = hate.  These holidays include Martin Luther King Jr. Day, Lincoln's Birthday, Washington's Birthday, Truman's Birthday, Columbus Day, Veteran's Day.  Yes, I looked these up on the Missouri courts website; so what?  It never fails that I go down to the county courthouse on one of these days to file something, and the stupid thing is closed.  Then, I have wasted a trip and gotten irritated by the fact that there are people who get off work that day.  I tell myself that all of the court employees hate their jobs, and that makes me feel a little better.  Until I realize that means they are enjoying that day off all the more because they hate their jobs.  Then, bitterness resurfaces.  It's a sad day when I am envious of the court employees.  (No offense to the court employees who love their jobs... I'm sure you exist.  Like narwhals... I never knew they were real, either!)

Seriously?  These exist?  I still barely believe it.