Coordinated Frump

Today I woke up wearing my husband's "I'm a Pepper" t-shirt. It's large, short, and—at best—unflattering. I work at home, so I decided I might as well have a frump day. It's Monday after all, and in my fuzzy thoughts I figured I'd shower eventually. The road to gross is paved with hygienic intentions.

But in all of my morning logic fog, the most illogical conclusion I came to was to choose the snowman sweatpants over the giant black ones. Why? Because the red spots in the pants go with the red shirt.

It was later in the morning when I looked down at my self and thought hey, this outfit really does match that I realized that I am in grave danger of never looking good again.

Romantic Plans KILLED by the Real Terrorists: Airlines Themselves

Tim's coming home tonight, and I haven't seen him since Tuesday morning. Needless to say, I'm painfully eager to see him for several reasons, most of which I won't go into any detail about. Anyway, I was so excited about Tim coming home tonight at around 9:00 PM that I decided to make a nice dinner, bought dessert, made the apartment look immaculate, DYED MY HAIR, and had a whole fun romantic evening planned! For the last two days I've been calculating all kinds of fun schemes.

BUT . . .

Just now Tim called to tell me his flight has been delayed until 10, and he won't even arrive until probably midnight! MIDNIGHT! Now, instead of me making him a gorgeous dinner, he has to eat a $12 bowl of rice in the airport. Instead of him seeing my fabulous new highlights and haircut, he'll see the messy bedhead remains of my salon style! Instead of rejoicing in the bliss of reunion after a long time apart, we'll probably have an extremely short conversation before conking out. ARGH! Can you understand my frustrations here? I mean, a woman can only go so long without her husband without getting a little "pissed that he's not around", and for goodness' sake, NOBODY likes making elaborate and sexy plans only to have them RUINED by STUPID STUPID AIRLINES!

It's summer. What could their excuse possibly be for ruining my romantic evening? Do they realize the danger they're in? Because this is the real terrorism. Bush is going to have to declare war on ridiculous flight delays that level my carefully built plans. I mean, there must be some crazy masochist in Dallas who's not getting any, and decided that I must not either. And when the time comes for his romantic evening, I'm going to walk to Dallas and CASTRATE him.

I may be getting a little paranoid, but there's an important lesson to be learned here:

[Please leave the gist of whatever lesson you learned in a comment.]

Alone

Tonight, for the second time in the history of my marriage, I spend the night alone. In about an hour, Tim's flight to Texas will leave, and while he's busy training for his fancy new internship, I'll be spending three more days with people I don't know, in a town I've seen twice before, in a state I've never lived in, completely alone.

Tim's aunt and uncle are nice, good people. I won't go without food and shelter. It's just that I'm suddenly realizing that I don't feel comfortable asking for anything from these people to whom I must be nothing but an occupied room. It doesn't help that this morning I woke up ill—unable to see my hubby off at the "light rail" station—and feel like a total slob holed up in this little room wearing yesterday's sweatpants.

At least tomorrow I get to move into our new apartment—if I can find it. I suppose I'll figure it out in the end, and somehow I'll lug the ridiculously heavy bags and boxes that fill the entire back of the car into a new strange place, where I can at least be alone in my aloneness.

I can't help but think how much more I would like to be alone in Europe. I just graduated from college. Shouldn't I now be backpacking through France, using my 200-level, half-forgotten vocabulary to find the Louvre? I feel like I've made a good choice in a choose-your-own-adventure book, but now none of the options take me to the Tower of London.

Where to next? The more I think about it, the more I feel far too young and immature to have children. Hormones and the "everyone's doing it" mentality really do a number on a 22-year-old girl who's lived in Provo far too long. I see my friends getting pregnant (no, not the act itself, you dolt) and something in me cries out for receiving blankets and nursery furniture of my own, as realistic as I am about the not-so-charming reality of raising children.

I'm left to waste away my best childbearing years working. As a writer. AH! The phone.

New Dollar Coins - "In God We Trust"

Some of you might expect this to be about there being no "In God We Trust" on the new dollar coins. It's not. In fact, the new dollar coins have the controversial words printed—along with some other important information—on the edge of the coin, as you can see below.

So if you get an email forwarded to you with the subject "Don't accept the new dollar," feel free to toss it immediately. Nobody is threatening your "freedom." I'm not going to go into how little I care what is inscribed on our money, but I do believe that these dollar coins should be forced out of circulation.

The only people who care about these stupid things are coin collectors with nothing better to do than collect money and not spend it. So the ultimate fate of these coins will be that they become a total annoyance to anyone who carries cash, then they'll get sold for slightly more than they're worth on eBay.

More importantly, we need to get rid of cash altogether. It's a disgusting way of spreading disease! You already know that cash is covered with viruses, bacteria, and skin cells from a billion other people's hands—don't put up with it anymore! You shouldn't have to accept germ-encrusted papers and coins from anyone. Insist on plastic or nothing.

On a less revolutionary note, change (jingle) is no longer a welcome part of the American lifestyle. It doesn't fit in your wallet, so it probably clangs around the inside of your purse, pocket, or car until you lose it or forget about it. We shouldn't have to put up with them trivializing our dollars. Coins, in themselves, are almost worthless. They buy nothing on their own. So we throw them away, even though it may add up to and lose us many dollars in the end. Say no to the dollar coin.

Now, our government has made attempts at dollar coins before. We know there are problems with them. First, there's an issue with vending machines. If you're like me, vending machines are probably one of the few ways you even have to get rid of that annoying jingle. But guess what? Vending machines don't automatically update to accept new dollar coins. So you won't be able to spend new dollar coins except at other places. Then you have to deal with retail associates getting used to the new coinage.

The desire for coins is an illness shared by sadistic government officials and lonely coin collectors. Don't be infected—ask for real cash!

PS Did you know you could buy 250 dollars for only $319.95 plus s&h? What a deal!

The Romantic Message - An exploration of my inner neoluddite

I just started to wonder whether romance wasn't better before cell phones and email became popular. I thought of mailboxes and messages on answering machines, and the suspense of a blinking red light or a visit from the mailman—back when we were allowed to say mailman instead of mail carrier.

The constant access to a romantic interest may be convenient, but where's the romance? A cell phone call, instant message, or email does allow instant gratification for the need to hear a voice, apologize, or leave a love note. But since when has instant gratification been good for the human race?

One might ask why a letter delayed days in the mail or a missed phone call might be any more romantic than the instant version, and I'll tell you why. A sweet sentiment can be captured in a note or a phone message completely unqualified—alone and without the clutter of an entire conversation about other things. One receiving it can know that their admirer was thinking of them days before, and might be thinking of them still. It's the joy of an unexpected and pure expression of love that emails and phone calls cannot deliver.

No girl can help but feel special when in a private moment she finds a simple note, or when on a busy day she comes home to a message from one she loves. Anyone can call and interrupt your day, or send you something that cost little time and no money to prepare, but a real lover will take the time to give a simple gift that with subtlety will find its way into a girl's day when she least expects it. It's a way of saying, "I'll take the time to write you a letter so you don't have to take time out to talk to me." Now that may seem too giving, but it's that attitude that is missing from the modern romance.

As I've expressed above, romance is only made better by waiting. A few days' or hours' delay will only make a message sweeter. And even if you cannot be bothered to waste time on antiquated modes of communication, remember that unconventional things are the most romantic. Everyone wants a unique romance, so be a real lover who writes letters in the age of email—a true romantic who will wait patiently for love to arrive as it should.

Another Year Off for Good Behavior

Today was my birthday. Tim took me to P.F. Chang's for dinner, and we had tons of fun taking glamor shots of one another with the new camera he got me! Yay for Canon! Before, I used a Kodak. It had 10x optical zoom, but it couldn't focus, so I'd get amazing pictures of fuzz, up close. In any event, I know you want to see some of our glamor shots.

At right, you can see me panicking trying to do something photo-worthy before the last timed shot went off. Success? Nah, I didn't think so either. I look like my head was pasted into this picture later by aliens unsure of what the human body actually looks like. I think that soon I'll make an appointment to get actual pictures taken of Tim and I, by a professional. I figure a few years down the road when we have three kids and we're both all double-chinny, we'll want to remember what it was like before. I'll be honest - I can only stick around in this weight class for so long.

At left, you can see my hottie husband! How did I get so lucky? Anyway, we've recently been enjoying some shows on Hulu, including the Tick. It's surprisingly funny, if a little "off." Hey, I'm a little "off," too. In any event, a character named "Captain Liberty" looks exactly like a human version of the animated human Ursula (Vanessa) from the Little Mermaid. Really. We've also been watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and I realized that a good portion of the plot of the episode where *spoilers* everyone finds out that Angel is a vampire *end spoilers* seems to have directly influenced Stephenie Meyer's idea for Twilight. Coincidence? Probably. I can't imagine a self-respecting writer watching Buffy—except maybe me.

"There is Sunshine in my Soul Today"

I complained enough about winter when it was snowing buckets (can it do that? I'm used to raining buckets), and I think that for the sake of balance I must now sing the praises of spring.

First, being able to go outside with only the most minor preparations (putting some clothes on) is probably one of my favorite things. I no longer have to worry about whether my jacket coordinates with my scarf and my blouse. I can throw on whatever is lying around my bedroom and just walk out the door to enjoy the sunshine.

With the coming of spring, I get to enjoy one of my most favorite simple pleasures: reading outdoors. I can toss out a blanket and just lie in the grass, listening to the sounds of the weather and the neighbors' children. It seems like a stupid thing, to sit outside, especially for someone who deplores insects and arachnids the way I do (really, I can't stand anything with more than four legs). However, it's hard not to appreciate the absence of a few of my least favorite sounds:

(1) The water heater. Every time we run any moderately hot water, the cat that the previous tenants must have trapped inside starts bouncing off of the walls of the tank.

(2) Computers. Especially since Tim got a new computer, the sound of CPU and case fans has been maddeningly loud in our whole apartment. Outside, there is only the sweet sound of cars swishing up and down the road (yes, swishing).

(3) The Refrigerator. Wymount was kind enough to give us a new "energy efficient" fridge sometime in the last year or so, but it's really quite loud.

In other words, there is an entire chorus of noise in my apartment that I can finally escape each spring.

Of course, there's more that I love about spring than just being able to leave the house without mummifying myself in insulation. Several summertimey activities regularly add a spot of joy to my day:

(1) Getting in the car when the sun has heated up the inside to feel like an oven. I find the feeling of baking relaxing.

(2) Nighttime walks. Taking walks at any time of day is at best unpleasant during winter, but in spring, walks are irresistible. Besides, any woman knows that a walk on a warm night is the most romantic thing you can do outside for free.

(3) Being back in touch with old friends. Even if it just means an extra email in my month, it really cheers me up that once school ends, I have a social life again.

I realize I'm not alone in thinking spring and summer to be the most pleasant seasons. Picnics, outdoor plays, capri pants, and the return of the pony tail are just a few of my favorite things. What do you do in the summertime?