Saturday, January 23, 2010

Opposites Attract

1:17 PM

The other night I laid in bed awake, completely unable to sleep.  Wonderman and I had just had a discussion that I found deeply troubling.  He, on the other hand, was beginning to softly snore.

Randomly and for no particular reason, we had been talking about names for our future children.  Don't get excited, the babies are still just twinkles in our eyes, nothing cooking anywhere else.  However, it is kind of a fun future-planning, castles-in-the-air kind of activity.  At all the names I suggested, Wonderman laughed a little.  I, of course, cannot give examples here because, like every self-respecting woman, I am certain that my names are the best ever and I can't have anyone stealing my ideas.  Still, for purposes of general description, I will simply say that I find old-fashioned and unique names appealing.  I'm not quite as uniqueness-bound as TAMN, but I definitely don't want my kids to have to be known by First Name Last Name, because there are three others with that First Name.  That is kind of lame.  They should be alone in their classes, as far as names go.  He told me it sounded like I wanted to set my kids up for a lifetime of teasing.  I tried to explain the generation of made-up ridiculous names they would be born into, but he didn't seem to comprehend that.  Sigh.

Wonderman did not offer any of his own suggestions.  I guess he hasn't been planning all the details of child-raising for most of his life, quite like I have.  (PS, this is secret, ok?  I usually try to maintain the persona of that woman who is super cool and super intelligent and has all kinds of mad goals connected to education and career who will probably eventually have children, but is in no way basing any part of her life on it or planning around it.  Ok?  Pinkie swear?  Good.)

Anyways (wink), I realized as we talked that Wonderman and I are driven by completely opposite incentives.  Where I find value in standing out and being different, he generally just wants to blend in.  I am mostly aware of this in how we dress.  It really hit home when I bought him a purple dress shirt last year for Christmas, and with his bright blues eyes I knew it would make him look HOT.  I think he wore it once, just to make me happy.  I, on the other hand, wear all kinds of things that are not . . . shall we say, entirely conventional.  I consider it major progress that I no longer consider it a threat to my individuality to shop somewhere like Old Navy. 

I promise, this connects to baby names.  I don't think Wonderman would mind if our children share their names with half their classmates.  Perhaps it's because his name is not wildly unique and he turned out great.  I don't even have any idea when these kids will show up, but I'm already concerned about the rounds we'll be going before we can fill out the birth certificates.

Conclusion:  Opposites attracting is a romantic notion, but it definitely has it's pitfalls.  But maybe if he can sleep on it, it means that I will eventually win this fight.  I'm going to count on that.

Resolutely

12:45 PM



I haven't been super social, thus rendering one of my ideas about resolutions mostly null and void.  Meh.  Maybe February will be better.

 
PS - This really is one of my favorite sites.

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Today's Classic Primary Moment

5:46 PM

Brought to you by the number 9 and the letter "G."

Junior.: Paige was opening her eyes during the prayer.
Me: And how do you know that, Junior?
Jr: (looking down at his hands) . . . .
Me: (giggle)

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Why I Love Wonderman, Episode II

5:21 PM

As I was making dinner tonight (French toast, YUM!), Wonderman looked up from his studying and said:

"This morning in the shower I was thinking up Star Wars trivia."

Before he could continue, I had to toss in some belly laughs and let him know how much I appreciate being married to someone who can start a conversation that way without thinking it's a joke.

Why I Love Wonderman

5:18 PM

Today I went down to the capital.  While there, I found the library.  I had heard rumor of its existence, but had yet to confirm before today.  As soon as I walked in, something in my soul sighed in relief.  I love being surrounded by books.

Tonight, as I was telling Wonderman about my day, I described my trip to the library and my joy in its discovery.  My last sentence to him described how I love being surrounded by books.  After waiting a few minutes, he turned to me and said:

"You know how you were talking about books?"
"Yeah. . . . ?"
"Now you know why guys like Hooters."

I had a hard time stopping laughing.

Monday, December 28, 2009

5:23 PM

Maybe it doesn't say much for my mental state that I just don't feel that I have much worth writing about, or I don't have time to write about it for a month, and then I feel that a comic filled with angst fits my mood perfectly. Meh.

Anyways (I always giggle in my head when I add the "s" to "anyway." It feels deliciously wicked and probably funny only to me), Wonderman has been talking about New Year's resolutions. I generally avoid them. Not that I think goals aren't wonderful and important. I guess I just think I'm too good to make goals. No, not really. Sheesh. I just . . . . oh I don't know. There's no good excuse, is there? Maybe I feel too lost in my own inadequacies to focus on just a few areas in which to improve? Maybe I my Adult Onset Attention Deficit Disorder keeps me from focusing on anything at all for very long? Maybe I'm just content to be that lame person that basically wallows in my weaknesses, eating popcorn with parmesan cheese and watching movies while I do it? That's probably it.

My dear Aunt Nina, however, has inspired me. She is going to throw more parties. I could do that. Or something like it. Despite my big smile, I find myself often being dreadfully socially awkward and kind of lonely. I can make social goals, right? I don't have to just lose weight like everyone else?

Conclusion: Goals are very personal and don't have to meet anyone's expectations except my own, thank goodness. Thanks for the reminder, Auntie.

Monday, November 30, 2009

Are You Kidding Me?

4:50 PM

This post comes with a confession: if there is a book in front of me that looks even remotely interesting, I'll probably read it. It's like Americans in general are with food. If it's there, it's devoured. Sigh.

My weakness brought me to the point of reading yet another ridiculous romance novel. I was at work, things were slow, my co-worker was reading. What's a girl to do? There was a book there that I had passed over in stronger times, but I was approaching boredom, and I pride myself on not indulging in such things.

I read the book. I took it home to finish it. It turned out to be two short novels in one book. The first was wildly passionate, and wildly predictable. The second promised to be the same. However, as I read blithely along, nearing the end (as I could tell as much by the cookie-cutter plot development as by the number of pages left), I read this at the bottom of page 480:

"She held a gurgling Mac over her shoulder."

That made sense. I went to 481, to continue in my self-indulgence, and found this at the top of the page:

"for some safe topic."

It simply didn't make sense. I read it again. And again. I wrinkled my brow. I checked the page numbers. Everything seemed to be aligned, but IT WAS A DIFFERENT STORY FROM A DIFFERENT BOOK. Apparently Nora Roberts' books are printed in such haste that the mix-up went without notice. Her titles are at the top of the page, and 480's title was NOT the same as 481's title.

This is odd, and a little funny. It shouldn't be annoying, because I know exactly what's going to happen in the last twenty pages of this formulaic romance. HOWEVER. . . .

I know that she left in a classic huff, whirling away from him when he told her their worlds were just too different and they couldn't be together, holding herself erect until she had driven out of sight, then disintegrating in the solitude of her car. After her spending two weeks at her cousin's casino, of course someone will make contact, offer an olive branch, and they will live happily and passionately ever after. BUT WHO? WHAT IS THE CONTACT? HOW IS THE CONFLICT IN THEIR LIFESTYLES RESOLVED? HOW DOES HE APOLOGIZE?

It bothers me. I find it hard to believe that no one noticed this before it went to print. It is very bothersome, very bothersome indeed.