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2005-06-06 - 5:30 p.m.

Obligatory Baseball Section

Someone found this site recently by googling "how to enjoy baseball." Oh, honey. Let me help. Seriously. If you have to google that, it probably means you either a.) don't enjoy it already, but are spending a lot of time with someone who does, or b.) enjoy it but are spending a lot of time with someone who doesn't. Both scenarios make me sad.

Half my age? You're kidding, right?

I've mentioned before that I look young and people often comment on it. Today, though, won the prize. Our neighbor on one side of our house is NOT A FUN neighbor to have. She's said and done many things that just make us generally avoid her when possible.

Today, I was walking an extra block home from the bus (thanks, bus driver who apparently can't hear the Stop Requested ding, for making me ride another block on your non-air conditioned bus then walk farther home), and I saw the neighbor walking toward me. I smiled, gave a little wave, and she then said, "Oh, you look like you're 13! I didn't even recognize you!" Now, I realize I look young, but my previous Record Incorrect Guess was 15 and that was 2 years ago at an airport security check. I look 12 years younger than my actual age to her? Wow. I mean, I'm fine with looking young for the most part. But when you know the person fairly well, it seems a little shady to tell her she looks like she might not have hit puberty yet.


Baseball season is summer's only redeeming quality. I hate (real hate, not funny ha ha hate) when the temperature gets above 80 degrees. And today it is 86 in my house. Thankfully, we have a window a/c unit in the bedroom, so I can sleep without moaning in agony the whole night. But a non-air conditioned bus then a run around the block with the dog make for a very grouchy, very sweaty, very unhappy me.

Note to Self:

Try to avoid driving from Chicago to the far northern part of the Detroit area then back in a span of about 20 hours. Okay, that's a lie for two reasons. First, it was totally worth it. We got to see a friend from college we NEVER get to see because she lives with her husband in Lubbock, TX. So it was worth the travel/four hours of sleep. Second, I didn't actually do any driving. My husband did it all. So I can't really remind myself not to do something I didn't do.

That being said, I'm still tired. And Sunday is still a bit foggy to me, as we got up at 4:45 (3:45 CST!)am to drive to Chicago and I had no short term memory all day.


I do remember a couple of things about Saturday though. We took our dog to my husband's softball game. I had to make someone else keep score, as I couldn't keep an eye on both the dog and the game, but the dog had so much fun! Tons of people were petting him, a group of small children (probably between 4-6 years old) were pouring their bottled water (that their parents probably meant for them to drink) all over him to cool him off, and every time my husband came around to score (they won 18-1 or something ridiculous like that) he would bark like he was cheering.

Ogie at the softball game

Deep Thoughts

A request:
I know that some people who know me in real life read this site. I'd prefer that if you read this next section, pretend you didn't when you're talking to me. There's some stuff that I'm just not comfortable discussing officially yet -- that I'm still processing in my own mind, but I still felt the need to write about it.

I don't know why, but I've discovered that my husband and I get all of our big, huge, major life decisions talked over while we're both very tired. We also (unintentionally) tend to package the big, huge, major life events together into as short of a time as possible. To prove my point -- the following took place during the summer of 2003:
-we got married
-went on our honeymoon
-he defended his masters thesis
-he graduated with a masters degree
-we moved from Colorado back to Chicago
-I got a new job (same company, but in Chicago this time)
-he started law school.

Things have settled down a bit since then, but on Sunday morning (in the car, driving from Detroit back to Chicago at the crack of dawn) we came to the conclusion that we're headed for another Crazy Insane Nutso Summer. Here's what is either planned or hoped for next summer (not in chronological order):
-he graduates law school
-he takes the bar exam
-he starts his real job
-we have a baby
-we buy a house
-we move into the aforementioned house

Yup, you read that right. The fourth one down really is in there. We've been wanting to have kids fairly young (well, we're 25 and 26 right now, so it's not even really that young biologically), but wanted to wait until he's out of law school so the three of us wouldn't have to live in a cardboard box under the expressway on ramp. So we were discussing the craziness of next summer and all of a sudden we realized that the money, health insurance, house-buying, and age timing is almost right. This theoretical life-changing experience wasn't so theoretical anymore.

One or the other of us (remember when I said that I was a bit foggy yesterday?) said, "So, around August then." The other said, "Yup, I guess so."

August? Time to start swinging without a net, as it were? The thing that scares me the most about it is that it doesn't really scare me. THAT terrifies me. How did I get mature enough that making a decision like this seems right?

The main reason we came to that conclusion are that we know for sure we want kids. We also realize that we don't know how long it could take and so if we start as soon as we're ready and then it takes longer than we expect, we won't have quite the biological time crunch that some people run into. We also have always factored our reproductive plans (that sounds so sterile and icky) into other decisions we've made, so it's really not a surprise that we've started discussing timelines and such.

I sound all surprised (well, yeah, a little) and confused. I'm not really. I know everything will work out the way it's supposed to, I'm just a person who really likes to plan things. And when something I've been sort of planning sneaks up on me like that (well, sneaking up on me is how it feels, even though I do still have at least 2 months to get used to it), I need some extra processing time.

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