Amanda's Awesome Book of Grammatical Nonsensities

So, I was talking to hubby on gchat the other day, and I accused him of telling a "boldfaced lie."  This is the conversation that followed.  I made 2 changes to this: 1) took out hubby's username because I'm nice, and 2) took out a few words that were not so PG, again, because I'm nice.  Some of the statements are a bit out of order due to response times not matching up correctly, but you can figure it out.  I'm not taking the time to change that... because while I am nice, I am also lazy.

Enjoy...

  me: that is a boldfaced lie

  lie

 hubby: bald-faced is the expression

 me: well that doesnt make any sense

  i like mine better

  was it you who kept asking me if it's "flesh" something out or "flush" it out?

1:29 PM hubby: flesh it out

 me: i know that

  but someone was asking me that the other day

  must have been matt

  i get all the men in my life mixed up

 hubby: bald-faced lie derives from people with no facial hair being more honest-appearing

  and could get away with lies

  even obvious lies

 me: thats not true. it means it's bald... as in obvious

  like naked

 hubby: compares to scoundrel's with moustaches

 me: i made up my description

 hubby: i know

 me: or, better yet...

1:30 PM it's brazen and bold

 hubby: mine comes from etymological study

 me: and shows on your face

  thus, bold faced

 hubby: again, not even close

 me: or... like it's in bold

  like... WOW, what a lie!

 hubby: your descriptions are a bald-faced lie

 me: i don't recognize that spelling

  it's like your words don't exist to me

 hubby: not my fault your intellegence and knowledge pale in comparison to mine

1:31 PM me: intelligence

 hubby: typo

  ass

 me: mensa reject

  mensa would totally take me

  i have a 149 iq

 hubby: again, bald-faced lie

 me: totally not

  im sure i have the records somewhere

 hubby: well i maxed out the iq test i took

1:32 PM me: you are just jealous of my genius

 hubby: so all they know is i'm above a 145

  but not sure how much

 me: thats a huge lie

  lie

 hubby: nope

 me: that kind

 hubby: ask my parents

 me: boldfaced

  your parents also say you read at 2

 hubby: quit trying to make that stick

  it's not a thing

 me: obviously you manipulate the system

 hubby: bald-faced lie is correct

 me: nope. not saying it.

  it sounds ridiculous

  bald faced

1:33 PM hubby: nevertheless, it is correct

  "i'm sorry your honor, but that sounds ridiculous"

  "ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my opposing counsel's story is ridiculous"

1:34 PM don't even pretend like you could get away with that

  saying you could is a bald-faced lie

 me: in a court of equity i could

  because they can do whatever they want

  or in jeffco

 hubby: i'm getting lunch

  bye

 me: i win.

1:35 PM hubby: no

  you're still wrong

  you don't win if you're wrong

 me: wrong.

  bye

 hubby: http://artsci.wustl.edu/~rsorense/PAPERS/Baldfaced%20lies.pdf

 me: i'm a lawyer. i win when i'm right AND when i'm wrong

1:36 PM hubby: barefaced lie is also acceptable

1:37 PM http://www.nytimes.com/2000/11/05/magazine/the-way-we-live-now-11-05-00-on-language-baldfaced.html?pagewanted=all&src=pm

  looks like boldfaced is also acceptable    (HA! -Commentary by Amanda...)

1:38 PM but stupid

 me: nope, much more acceptable

  go to lunch nerdfest

 hubby: baldfaced is best

  boldfaced "sounds like a printer error"

  HA

  both invented by my dear friend, Willy the Shakes

1:40 PM me: he isnt' real

 hubby: i ran a marathon this morning = baldfaced lie

 me: but i am glad i am right

  baldeagled lie

1:41 PM that sounds better

 hubby: i just ate the ribeyes is a boldfaced lie

 me: spreadeagled lie

 hubby: there's just too few contexts in which that is correct

  that's a completely different kind of thing

 me: no, its a lie that is waiting there ready 

 hubby: "those red bumps are normal" is a spreadeagled lie

1:42 PM me: i feel like a grammar book could be based on our conversation

  an awesome grammar book

  amanda's awesome book of grammatical nonsensities

 hubby: could be a new regular on your blog

1:43 PM me: go eat lunch

 hubby: bye

  bye

  that was a boldfaced bye

  HAHAHA

  I'M HILARIOUS

 me: you aren't even funny a little bit

1:44 PM hubby: you're right. I'm funny the whole bit

 me: did you know that an upside down question mark is a sarcasm indicator?

 hubby: and for you to suggest otherwise is a baldfaced lie

  i think justin and i created that in con law 2

 me: no, it really exists

  outside of your imaginations

1:45 PM hubby: i'm hungry

  stop talking

  i'm goin

  see you tonight

Randomosity

Ok, I'm having trouble focusing my ADD brain, so this post is just complete random snippets of things I feel like talking about.  A bit of random trivia to go with this random blog post:  Before I made this blog, I had first made a blog called The Art of Randomosity.  I deleted it after it failed to inspire my creative mind.  But, the semi-made-up word proved perfect for this blog entry!


**  Last time I visited my parents, my mom was talking about how they were going to landscape their yard.  You see, they moved into my grandparents' house after they renovated it, so they are starting with a clean slate... and my mom has grand ideas, of course.  She has been trying to talk my dad into getting a pool since renovations started two years ago.  When I visited, my mom told me that she had mentioned a pool to my dad again, and that he said she could have a pool when she had two grandkids.  As if I wasn't getting pestered enough about having kids before, now the fate of my mom's pool rests in my hands.  Sorry, mom... guess you're landlocked for a few years!  Though, it does give me a fun way to further torture my mother about grandchildren.  "Mom, why don't you guys get a pool?  Wouldn't a pool be soooo nice?"


**  I have never mowed the lawn.  I grew up with a huge yard in the country, but I never mowed.  How did I manage this?  Well, when I was in junior high, a kid in my school had a lawn mower accident... let's just call him Jimmy Smith (to protect his identity... not that he would read this blog... and the people I was in school with know who I'm talking about anyway).  The riding lawn mower tipped over on top of him, and he lost an eye.  He had to get a glass eye, which was just about the most terrifying thing I had ever heard of when I was 12.  I told my mom about it and about how scared it made me of lawn mowers... because we lived on a steep hill, and I was convinced the lawn mower was going to turn over.  I was genuinely afraid of the lawn mower (as I am basically afraid of almost everything on earth), so my mom never asked me to mow.  As I got older, I got less afraid of the lawn mower, but also got lazier and still didn't want to mow in 98 degree heat.  So, when my mom asked me to mow, I would say, "Do you want me to end up like Jimmy Smith!?"  Yeah, what was my mom going to say to that?  That she wanted her daughter to have a glass eye?  Well played, me.  People would ask my mom why she didn't just have me mow the lawn, and she would tell me I was afraid of the mower because of what happened to Jimmy Smith.  I was 18, and she was still telling people this.  Perhaps I did have a bit of fear lingering, but it was definitely mostly laziness.  But, to this day, I'm pretty sure my mom thinks I have a lawn mower phobia.  And, now I have a husband to mow, so why would I ever start?


**  The Voice is awful this year.  I have slowly cut reality shows out of my TV viewing lineup, and The Voice is about to get the axe.  I thought it was so fun last year, and now it sucks.  No one is good!  I have a problem letting go of TV shows, though, even when they get really bad.  It's like... I feel some kind of loyalty to them.  Like, I owe it to the show to stick it out and see if it gets better.  Which is ridiculous, of course, but I guess I am a show hoarder of sorts.  I can't let anything go, even when I get no enjoyment or use out of it.  My cluttered DVR serves as proof.  I can think of a handful of shows that I gave up on (like Desperate Housewives, Prison Break, House, Private Practice, American Idol, Nip/Tuck... actually, even more than that... perhaps more than a handful...), and it seriously gives me anxiety to stop watching a show that I've been watching forever.  Sometimes I will read recaps even though I don't watch anymore.  Yes, I know the worlds are fictional... but I still have this need to know what is happening!  I must have a disorder of some kind.


**  I have an unhealthy fascination with Taylor Swift.  Not, like, in a stalker-ish way, but still an unhealthy amount for a grown woman.  I know (and own) every Taylor Swift song there is... and have even watched a lot of her YouTube videos... her TV show appearances.  I follow her tabloid stories.  I can't watch Camilla Belle movies because she stole Joe Jonas from Taylor Swift (why do I even know this?!).  I know it's totally irrational, but I can't help it.  I feel like one of those teenage girls who is convinced that if Taylor Swift knew me, we'd be best friends - and, maybe I could be her back-up singer and we could write songs together and have girly sleepovers with her adorable cat Meredith.  No, I never think of these things at all... ever.  I think I have a special affinity for the "normal" famous girls... like Taylor Swift... and Selena Gomez.  I love Selena Gomez.  I even watched that movie Monte Carlo.  Yes, I am a tween trapped in an adult body.  Actually, it probably looks more like a tween body, and from a distance, or with sunglasses on, you might mistake me for a 13 year old girl.  Did I mention that I just finished the first book in another young adult series?  And, requested the next from the library.  And will feel perhaps more than a little bit of shame when I go pick it up.  Thank God for self check-out.  Anything to avoid those judgmental librarians.

Things I just don't like. Abridged version.

I like to think of myself as a pretty easy-going gal.  Low maintenance.  Go with the flow.  Heck, I didn't even care what flowers were at my wedding.  I hired someone and told them "you know what looks good."  That was about the extent of it.  When people are having a meal and ask me what foods I like, I say that I'm not too picky - I'll eat almost anything.  Which is true.  When people ask what I want to do, I usually leave it up to them to decide because most of the time, I really just don't care.  Actually, there really aren't many things that I really like or really hate.  I guess I am just not a person of extremes.  I am a person of neutrality and moderation.

But... when I force myself to think about it, there are things that I really dislike.  It's hard for me to think of a favorite anything, but I can usually respond with "I like everything but such-and-such".  And, every once in a while, something comes along, and I just think, I really don't like that.  It could be a song, a movie, a food, a person, a commercial good of some kind.  Today, I saw one that inspired me to create this blog post.  And, it will be number one on my list of things that I just don't like.

Things I just don't like:


1.   Wax figures.  Like, Madame Tussaud's style wax figures.  I saw William & Kate's figures online today, and, well, they really freak me out.  And it's not just because theirs are some of the most freakishly lifelike ones that I have seen... it is all wax figures.  Or, really, any realistic representation of a person.  When I was a child, I was horribly afraid of mannequins.  I was seriously worried that one was going to reach out and grab me.  Sometimes I mistook real people for mannequins and would scream when they moved.  Though, I was also terrified of all life-size characters... like the kinds at Showbiz Pizza and Six Flags.  So, maybe I have a thing about large lifelike figures in general, whether they are human or not.  While other kids were begging their parents to have their pictures taken with Tweety, I was begging my mother to let us turn around so we could avoid him...or her?  I think of all characters as men if they don't have a bow/dress.  Is that sexist?  Society has done this to me.

This is just... not right.

2.  Indian food.  Go ahead and chastise me.  Yes, I have tried it, and no I don't like it.  The smell alone of Indian spices makes me physically ill.  People think I'm close-minded or not "cultured" enough because I don't like Indian food.  Guess what?  I like other ethnic cuisine... just not Indian.  I'm not some snobby American chomping on my cheeseburger.  I'm not sure what spices I am particularly averse to, but no Indian food that I have encountered has ever appealed to me.  I just don't like it!  I think it must be kind of like cilantro.  Did you know that there is supposedly a gene that is responsible for whether or not you like cilantro?  Some people just really hate it, and it's programmed into them.  Seriously, I'm not kidding.  Look it up.  I, for one, love cilantro and can't imagine someone not liking it.  But, I know there are people who don't.  Same thing with Indian food for me.  Some people think it's so delicious and think there must be something wrong with me not to like it.  Obviously, I just must have never tried it because if I had, I would like it.  Wrong.  I wonder if there is a gene that controls Indian curry...

Sure, it looks delicious... until I can smell it.  And taste it.

3.  Riding in cars.  Driving is fine.  But, I hate riding in cars.  I actively avoid it.  Trains are fine... as are planes.  Even buses.  But, if I'm going to be in a car, I want to be the one driving it.  I think it's a combination of motion sickness, anxiety, and claustrophobia, but I know I don't like it.  I don't like car travel in general, but it's tolerable if I'm driving.  I dislike car travel so much that the last time we drove to my in-laws', which is 5 hours away, I told my husband that we were never driving there again.  That trip, and the ones before it, had been particularly harrowing, with accidents, detours, road construction, traffic, you name it.  And, with not liking being in the car to begin with, I'd had enough.  I said I didn't care how much it cost, we were flying there from then on out.  That was probably 8 months ago.  And, we've flown there every time since.  I guess I should mention that riding in cars is made significantly less awful by sleeping.  I like to take Dramamine before a trip, then just sleep the whole time.  But, the person driving doesn't usually appreciate their riding buddy being asleep.  Not my problem.  You should have flown.

This cat looks like he likes riding in cars about as much as I do.  I feel you, cat, I feel you.

4.  Gene Wilder.  No, I've never seen Blazing Saddles.  Yes, I know it is supposedly the funniest thing ever.  But, I have seen Willy Wonka, and that was enough for me.  Gene Wilder creeps me out like no other.  I would have given the golden ticket back!  I don't even know what it is about him that really gets me.  It's kind of like when you see someone who looks like a serial killer.  They just do.  You don't know why.  Maybe it's the bushy beard, or the shifty eyes, or the length of rope they carry on their tool belt...

I will take the Oompa Loompas over Gene Wilder any day.  Creep city!

5.  People who use their phones in elevators.  It doesn't matter if they're talking, texting, checking their email, or even just pretending to use the phone to avoid talking to people or making eye contact.  It's ridiculous.  Especially people with their bluetooth headsets who seem like they are talking to you, then you might say something and then feel awkward when you realize they aren't talking to you.  Seriously, like, people can't spend 30 seconds just standing and waiting for their floor.  Like, you are so important that you can't wait until you get to your office to check your email or text your friend.  Why interact with people when you can interact with technology?   And, what wireless carrier do you have that you get service in the elevator?  Seriously... mine cuts out the second I step in the elevator.  Maybe that's why I hate everyone who uses their phone in the elevator...

One day, I kid you not, everyone in the elevator was using their phones at the same time.

6.  Futurama.  The TV show.  I have an inexplicable hatred for this show.  I have never seen an episode that entertained me.  One episode made me cry, but that is the only emotional response I have had to this show.  Steve loves Futurama and watches it quite a bit, so I've caught quite a few bits and pieces of episodes.  I almost feel abnormal that I don't like this show.  I don't get the appeal.  Kind of like with the CSIs, Law & Orders, or any of the CBS comedies.  But, I think my general lack of exposure to those prevents me from having a strong reaction to them like I do to Futurama.  I still can't stop thinking about that episode that made me cry... the one with Fry's dog... and it makes me dislike Futurama even more.

How can it be SO SAD?!

7.  "Hey, Soul Sister."  I don't know if I even need to explain this one.  Awful.  Awful.  AWFUL.  This is the worst song ever made.  I didn't even like it when Blaine sang it on Glee, and that's saying something because I am a sucker for fictional preppy boys (even if they are also fictionally gay).  For a while, it was on every radio station all the time, and my car felt like a prison.  One day it came on and I wasn't paying attention, and I started singing along.  When I realized what I was doing, I felt so ashamed.  I turned off the radio and acted like it didn't happen.  I once said that the only thing that would make this song worse was if Chad Kroeger sang it.  That may be the truest statement to ever pass these lips.

Apparently, flat-ironed hair and sunglasses make Chad Kroeger even more ridiculous.  Just imagine if he was also singing Hey Soul Sister in this picture.  The world would probably end.  

I have about a thousand others in my head... but, I'm stopping myself at 7... because, let's face it, this post would get longer than anyone would ever read.  Frankly, I'm surprised you stuck around long enough to read this.  And, I bet Chad Kroeger was a real let down as a finale, and now you're wondering why you just wasted 10 minutes of your life that you will never get back.

Sorry.  Chad's sorry, too.  For everything.  Everything.

We Love Lucy

I was just sitting here in my living room, staring at my blog home screen, trying to decide on a topic for a new post.  As I was thinking, I looked over my laptop screen and saw my cat Lucy stalking something.  I got up to investigate, and sure enough, it was a bug.  The bug has now retreated under the coat closet door, and Lucy is sitting patiently by the door watching for its return.  She is ready for attack if it should chance to venture outside of its safe shelter.  Lying in wait.

What does this random occurrence have to do with my blog post?  Well, Lucy has inspired me to write about... Lucy!  My cat is the closest thing I have to a child, and people love to talk about their kids, right?  So, this blog post will be all about getting to know my "baby"... Lucy the cat.  Enjoy.

Blogosphere:  Meet Lucy.

1.  Lucy's real name is Lucifer.  Yes, I am a cruel pet parent.  But, she was an evil kitten, and she deserved it.  When I got Lucy, she was wild and flea-ridden... and pure evil.  Her cuteness was her only redeeming characteristic.  Lucy was the progeny of someone's barn cat, and I saved her from certain imminent death, so she should have been worshiping at my feet, thanking me for my generosity.  Instead, she gave me fleas, hid in the back of the washing machine and refused to come out, then scratched the living daylights out of me if I tried to touch her or hold her (or apply her flea medicine)... not to mention the hissing and growling.  It's amazing that such a little thing can make so much noise.  After enduring days of torture at her paws, I bestowed upon her the name Lucifer.  But, being the magnanimous human being that I am, I shortened it to Lucy, since Lucifer is obviously a boy cat's name.  She is much nicer now... at least to me and the hubby.  She hates basically every other person and will hiss or take a swipe at them.  Like a good guard-cat should.

Her glowing eyes of death.  Fear them.

2.  Lucy is fat.  Think... Garfield.  Though, at least Garfield had lasagna as an excuse.  Lucy is just fat.  We don't overfeed her, and she even eats the healthy cat food.  She is pretty lazy, but all cats are lazy.  I don't know why she's so fat, but she is probably a good 12 pounds.  I haven't weighed her in a while, mostly because I am in denial of her sheer massiveness.  People comment that she's a large cat, and every once in a while... I really see it.  When she lies on her back, she looks pretty rotund.  I'd post a picture, but the camera adds 10 pounds, and I don't want to embarrass poor Lucy like that.  Oh wait, yes I do.

Probably a good representation of her girth.  I love that Steve is drinking, and the Bluebook is on the couch next to him.  Life of a law student.

3.  Lucy enjoys rabbits... and birds... and bugs.  We have an abundance of rabbits in our backyard, and Lucy loves to sit in the window and watch them hop about.  They drive her nuts.  She stalks them back and forth across the windowsills.  All of the hopping drives her mad.  Then, there are the birds.  We have this tall grass plant thing in front of our house, and birds like to perch on it and eat its seeds.  The plant goes up to the second story (yes, it's huge), and Lucy will sit there and watch those birds forever.  She has never been outside, but I think she enjoys stalking the prey from inside... as she has no front claws and would never be able to actually catch anything outside.  It would be very disappointing for her, and I must protect her fragile self-esteem.  She's already fat... no need to let her know that she's a fat cat who can't hunt.  What she can hunt, however, is bugs.  She loves to hunt bugs.  She rarely catches them... because, let's face it, it's hard for a cat to catch a bug with its paw.  She will hold it down, then pick up her paw, then it creeps away again.  She will stalk bugs all over the place, pawing at them and watching intently for her chance to eat it.  She eats the bugs if she manages to catch them, which isn't often.  But, I still feel very safe with Lucy as my bug protector.  If nothing else, she alerts me to a bug's existence... which has come in handy when my most-feared house centipedes have been lurking in the dark of my bedroom.  Lucy starts freaking out, and then I know something is afoot... and without fail, she will be staring right at some fearsome bug on my wall, just waiting to crawl on me in my sleep.  And, I hate creepy crawlies.  So, thank you Lucy, my fearless bug stalker extraordinaire.

High alert!

4.  She is lazy.  Yes, as I said, all cats are lazy.  But, I think Lucy is especially lazy.  She can seriously lay in one spot for hours on end without ever twitching.  We sometimes leave the house and return hours later, and she will still be in the same exact spot as when we left.  And, if ever she goes "missing" in the house, you will undoubtedly find her lying on the bed, the couch, her cat condo, or in the "cat trap."  The "cat trap" is a shoebox that she particularly enjoys laying in, even though it is really too small for her to fit in comfortably.  She bows out the sides and takes up every inch, spilling her fur over the sides of the box.  The hubby wrote "CAT TRAP" on it.  He's so funny.  Lucy often even just lies right on the floor, usually in a ridiculous position.  My favorite is when she lies on her back and has all her feet kind of bent into the air.  She looks like a dog wanting its belly scratched, and it just looks really unnatural for a cat.  She loves to lie that way, though, and the only thing I can figure is that it's comfortable for her blubber.  The blubber can't get in the way when she lays on her back!

Cats are weird.

5.  She has a stuffed animal.  Lucy only plays with two things:  laser pointers and her stuffed otter.  Laser pointers require a human to participate, and she's smart enough to get sick of it after a while.  The otter, on the other hand, she plays with on her own.  A lot.  We call it her "weasel" because that's what it looks like, and it sounds cooler than otter.  She has had this weasel since she was a kitten.  I wanted her to sleep in her cat bed, so I put the weasel in it with her because it was the same size that she was.  She enjoyed wrestling with it and attacking it as a kitten.  Now, as an adult cat, she still enjoys basically the same things.  She carries that weasel all over the house.  You never know where you will find it.  One time we lost the weasel after visiting my parents, and I looked everywhere for it but could not find it.  I tried finding a replacement toy, but she would not play with anything else, no matter how weasel-like it was.  Months later, we went back to my parents', and Lucy ran and found the weasel first thing.  It has never gotten lost again.  She carries it around in her mouth and makes these horrible crying noises while she has it in her mouth.  We still can't decide if she thinks it's her baby or her prey, but judging by the way she tosses it and attacks it mid-air, I hope it's prey.  She seriously whips it up in the air with her mouth, and it goes almost as high as the ceiling, and she will jump up and grab it.  It's really entertaining to watch.  She plays with it like this probably multiple times a day, and you can find it anywhere.  The stairs, the bed, the bathroom.  Sometimes it's by her food dish.  It's like a game.  Sometimes I've taken pictures of where I've found the weasel.  It entertains me to no end.

Can you see the "weasel" that she's hugging?  

6.  She sleeps on me.  Not with me.  On me.  I kind of like it, though.  I call for her at night, pat the bed with my hand, and she will come jump up with me.  I became so accustomed to it when she was smaller, it's easier for me to fall asleep if she's lying on me.  I attribute this to the fact that she weighs so much, it restrains my lungs and slows my breathing, allowing me to fall asleep faster.  Perhaps that's an exaggeration, but sleeping with 12 or 13 pounds on your chest is definitely noticeable.  She will sleep on my chest/stomach if I am lying on my back, and she sleeps on my hip/thigh if I am lying on my side.  She is quite adept at balancing, because she is wider than my thigh but manages to stay on quite well.  Even when I roll over, she sometimes maneuvers to stay on without falling off.  It's impressive.  She especially likes sleeping on me in the mornings when it's time for her food.  It's like she's saying "I am staying right here until you feed me."  Keeping in close contact to make sure I notice she's there and ready for breakfast.  Yes, I notice you, my gigantic Lucy.

This is actually her lying on Steve, but you get the idea.

7.  She likes to be in places where she is not supposed to be.  This is pretty self-explanatory.  It's one thing that convinces me that cats have analytical reasoning skills.  When she thinks of where she wants to be... she basically narrows it down to the exact places where she is not supposed to be.  Then, she goes to one of them.  I could explain all of her favorites, but I will share some photo evidence instead.

In a box + on top of the fridge = ultimate cat paradise.

"Oh, you like watching this?  Well, I like you to watch me." 

In the creepy head mug cabinet at the in-laws'. 

"Oh, you upholstered this for me to lay on.  Thank you."

I should have shut her in it.  That would teach her.

Laundry basket > dryer.

"Helping" me sort and fold clothes.  No drawer can be left open in this house.

We also can't own real plants.  To Lucy, they are all delicious snacks.

Well, that was a little look into the life of our "little wiener," as I like to call her.  Shut up, it's adorable when I say it.

I don't want any more of this "springing forward."

One of my favorite stories about my grandma was an occurrence at the bank when my dad took her to look at her accounts.  My grandmother suffered from Alzheimer's, which was obviously very sad, but it also produced many moments of lighthearted humor.  My grandma was constantly asking people to take her to the bank to see her accounts, as she was convinced that people were taking her money.  So, my dad finally took her, and he had the cashier show her the statements.  My grandma looked at the ledger and saw "credits" in one column and "debits" in the other, and she asked what "debit" meant.  She was told that a "debit" was when money went out of your account.  In all seriousness, my grandma replied, "Well, I don't want any more of these debits, then.  Only credits."

And, that's how I feel about "springing forward."  I don't want any more of this "springing forward."  Only "falling back."  That's right... I'm talking about good old daylight saving time.  And by "good," of course, I mean "awful."  Seriously, who invented this monstrosity?  Probably the same person who invented leap day.  Though, at least leap day causes minimal disruption in our lives.  And, it only comes once every four years, so people have learned to embrace it as sort of a novelty that is enjoyable because of its quirkiness.  Like a comet or an eclipse.

Daylight saving time, on the other hand, screws us up twice a year.  It's never a set day, so no one really remembers it's happening.  It just creeps up on you, and it always seems like a surprise.  Somehow, you forget that daylight saving time even exists... until it's time to change the clocks.  And every year, you curse daylight saving time in the spring, and relish it in the fall.

It's like, in the fall, you are oblivious to the fact that the wonderfulness of "falling back" has to be balanced, eventually, by "springing forward."  But, when you fall back, you aren't thinking that far ahead.  You are thinking, I get to sleep an extra hour.  And, that's exactly what it is:  ONE extra hour.  Because, the next night, you force yourself to stay awake and adjust your sleeping schedule to go to bed an hour later (at your normal "time").  Then, you are still sleeping the exact same amount, only shifted.  I can say that, in all honesty, I have never woken up an hour early when we get the extra hour.  My body sleeps that extra hour without fail.  It doesn't want to get up at my normal time... it enjoys that little bit extra.

Springing forward, however, you lose an hour of sleep.  And if you think far enough ahead to go to bed an hour early to compensate, I dislike you on principle alone.  Who plans things like that?  Undoubtedly, most averagely-organized people, like me, lose an hour of sleep.  And, losing one hour of sleep, unlike gaining an hour of sleep, does not just affect one night.  It affects your sleep schedule for weeks on end.  You still aren't tired until your "normal" bedtime, which is now an hour later than it was before.  And, you are now having to wake up an hour earlier than before.  So, it's really like losing 2 hours of sleep for a while.  So you are grouchy, tired, and basically a zombie for weeks before you adjust.  It's not only adjusting to getting up earlier, it's adjusting to going to bed earlier, too.  You know how hard it is to make yourself go to sleep an hour early?  Have you ever tried putting a kid to bed an hour early?  "Oh, your bedtime is at 8?  Well, you are going to bed at 7 tonight!"  Yeah, it's that hard.

I think the worst part of daylight saving time is that I always have grand plans for my extra hour in the fall.  When "fall back" time comes around, I think to myself, "Oh, well, I'm used to getting up at 7... now I can wake up at 6 with no problem!  I will use that extra hour to go to the gym, or run, or write my fake novel... or, gasp, watch the news and eat breakfast at home instead of at my desk at work."  All of these ideas run rampant in my head at the idea of being "given" an extra hour.  Guess how often I've actually followed through on these ideas?  Yeah, that's a big goose egg.  I'm still eating breakfast at my desk.  I set my alarm an hour earlier than "normal," and my body sees that number, and it is not having it.  Five snoozes later, I'm up at my normal time... vowing that tomorrow I will get up the hour early.  Then, I continue setting my alarm for the hour early, and continue pushing snooze five times... and this continues indefinitely.

And, now, I'm stuck in a cycle of setting my alarm an hour early and hitting snooze five times before I get up.  Which poses a problem... because if I now set my alarm to normal time, who knows when I would wake up?  My body robo-snoozes five times every morning.  I'd have to move my alarm clear across the room to make myself get up at this point.  And, I can't do that... because I can't see across the room without my contacts.  So, not being able to see the numbers would inevitably lead to me waking up in a panic at some ungodly hour every morning, freaking out that it's way later than it is and that I've missed my alarm.  I know; I've done this many times.  You'd think that "springing forward" might negate the forward shift in alarm time somehow, but I'm pretty sure my body is too stupid to figure that one out.  My mind might even be too stupid to figure it out.  I'm seriously sitting here writing out the different time changes and alarm times to see what matches up with what.  And confusing myself.

I blame the time change...