Tuesday, March 25, 2008

fond nostalgia for something you didn't like the first time around

This is a funny phenomenon I've noticed in my own experience. The phenomenon actually comforts me when people talk about how great something was in the past (like before my time) and they lament that it will never be that good again, or whatever, and I realize that sometimes maybe they're just nostalgic for that time, but it wasn't all THAT great. The passage of time makes us romanticize stuff. Anyway, point being, here is one of the areas in which I have noticed it:

When I was younger, say, about 13, 14, 15, I didn't really like country music. (I'm still not a huge fan -- I don't listen to it on the radio or buy it -- but I'm not against it -- if someone shows me a good song, I might like it.) I would not have chosen to listen to country out of all the choices available. However, a good number of my friends at that time did like it. On long trips and such, I was "forced" to listen to it because, say, the driver and owner of the car liked it. Fine. At the time I don't know if I grumbled aloud (probably) or maybe just lightheartedly made fun of it. Anyway, now, the very songs that we listened to, I really like. I love listening to one specific Hank Williams, Jr. CD. Every song on there is great! And it reminds me of fun ski trips and being on vacation and laughing and stuff. Isn't that silly? At the time I would have died rather than like it. I'm nostalgic for something I didn't like. Did I really not like it? Or did I not want to like it? Or what? I really remember not liking it that much. But now, it just gives me good warm memories. Funny...

remember when I wondered why people have big houses?

I wonder if it's so they don't have to store the bike in the kitchen, the crock pot and the blender on the kitchen table, and the recycling in the closet. That might be it. I'm starting to see. We have gathered more stuff and at this point it is virtually impossible to have everything put away. There's not a place for everything. When people come over we do this weird shuffling which usually involves putting stuff in the bathtub. If they are overnight guests, we have to be really strategic. So, yeah. I get it. At least, I get the idea of a little more space than THIS. We are planning to hold on to this cheap rent for another few months and then maybe when I'm 7 months along, move into a two-bedroom apartment. (I plan to take a supervisory role in the moving process.) My requirements are: washer/dryer inside the unit, bathroom, dishwasher, in that order. It's a renter's market, so I think we will be able to find something without going broke. I'm excited about the novelty of walking to the washing machine and dropping in some dirty clothes without actually leaving the house. Woohoo!

Friday, March 14, 2008

OK, I remembered, and it is earthshaking.

Well, actually not. But: what I remembered is that the other night I was talking to someone about the emotionalness of pregnancy, and I said, "I don't really think I'm more emotional now that I'm pregnant." Now those who know me well might be thinking, "Now that's really saying a lot....NOT," and I would have to say they are right....I'm sort of an emotional person and I cry easily. But, with that said, I asked Alexander, who would certainly know if anyone would, and he agreed. In fact, he said, "Less." "What?" I asked. "You're less emotional now that you're pregnant." I agree. So....put that in your pipe and smoke it. Isn't that strange? But I have a theory related to this, that I will go into in the third paragraph. First I have to digress and appear to disprove my own point...

So for the sake of being sort of honest, I do admit that there was that one time recently when I started crying in the middle of Target -- I had called Alexander on the phone and asked what color helmet he wanted for an upcoming nighttime bike ride, and he said, "No helmet, I'd rather not go," (??#$%#$%@????!!???) and to me, since I'm carrying his child, that meant "I'm not going to do everything I can to stay safe so I can be around and not a vegetable for our child," and so naturally, I hung up on him, sat down on the lowest shelf of the aisle, and cried. When he called me back, he soon realized that foregoing the helmet would be generally hazardous to everyone's health, whether anyone crashed or not, so he told me to get the helmet. (Whew.) But THAT is directly attributable to the FACT of pregnancy, I think, like this weird protective thing where suddenly there's this child to worry about and you can't just freely not wear a helmet because you don't feel like it anymore because it's not all about you. And this possibly hits the mother first since she's the one whose body is incubating the little bundle of cells. So, what I'm saying about that cute little incident, is that it doesn't count as a random "Why did I cry about that? Must be because I'm so emotional these days," -- it was not random and it's very easy to trace why I did. So. Point being:

I know some people who were extremely very happy, like over the moon, the whole time they were pregnant. One or two of those were people who had some chemical imbalances that were later corrected by medication. (As for me, I have tendencies toward mild depression and an SSRI that works great for it, which I'm still taking... I explain that because that's how this could relate to me...) Anyway, this is my theory, and, um, maybe other people have had it -- I haven't looked it up: certain chemical imbalances are temporarily "cured" or greatly improved during pregnancy, because, I don't know, some combination of the pregnancy hormones supplies whatever's missing usually. Now, for the next part I know there are many interrelating factors, but: This would be a partial explanation, or an explanation in some cases, for why certain women have kid after kid when it seems that they don't really love them that much once they've arrived and/or their socioeconomic situation would indicate that maybe fewer kids would be a better choice. Maybe a woman like this spends her entire life very depressed/angry/hopeless and the only time she's happy is when she's pregnant. For someone steeped in an undiagnosed, untreated illness related to chemical imbalance, nine months of freedom would be like heaven. Well-worth the consequences. Interesting, no?

Thursday, March 13, 2008

I forget what this post was going to be about

Hmmm. Well, that's never stopped me from talking in real life, so I don't know why it should hinder me here. I think I was going to write about something to do with pregnancy, but I can't think of it. Um, I am 12 weeks along, now, yay, and the little pollywog has lost his/her tail and graduated from embryonic status to fetus-hood. I went running today finally, for 20 minutes (I know, I'm a warrior), but...um...I've been working out roughly once per week. I think it's time to step it up a bit. I feel good now and am rarely queasy. So I think I got off pretty easy, all things considered.

Seriously, I had something to say. But I like it when people update their blogs often, so like a nonpost is better than no post, right? When I think of whatever fascinating thing that was in my head , I'll let you know.

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

When you have really good friends....





You can call them and ask to borrow -- not a cup of sugar, not a brush -- but their wedding dress. Yes, I did do that. I needed a dress in which to take wedding pictures, since we never did, and I sort of didn't feel like spending hundreds of dollars on something I wouldn't even be wearing for an event. Hers is really cute. So, yeah, I boldly requested and she said yes! And shipped it to me. Here are a couple of pics -- my brother Erik asked if there was trick photography involved since Alexander appears to be supporting my weight....hahaha.