Small October Rant (in which I abuse parenthesis!)

Besides the fact that, apparently, October and I are best frenemies (forever!) (more on that later) (maybe), I have a couple of rants.

Remember That One Time (I really should trademark that) I was kind of glad last winter was pretty mild, but only because my car never had a problem shifting out of park because it wasn't very cold?  That was a relief, but the weather was too dry and caused a lot of problems this summer (2012:  The Year Everything Caught On Fire All The Time).  As it gets cooler, I look forward to crazy snow storms and below-freezing nights, but then I remember that I have this car with a rebuilt transmission (known as a tranny in the trade, and not what you might think a tranny is, although sometimes--like right now--I might think it's funny to give my transmission a drag queen name), and the rebuilt transmission doesn't like to shift out of park when the temperature drops below 20 for any appreciable amount of time.

The technical reason is that the shifter rod that engages the gears when you push the little button on my shifter, is a little too short.  Plastic shrinks in the cold, and when it's too cold, my shifter rod doesn't QUIIIITE engage the gears in the 6-year-old transmission.  The part is no longer manufactured by Ford (just one of many reasons to never buy a 1995 Taurus, much as I like my car most of the time) and a transmission guy I talked to said he could jimmy a part, but I decided not to do that because I figured eventually I'd be able to buy a new car.

Nnnnnope.

Life got in the way, and I haven't been able to afford a new car, so I'm stuck with my trusty Ford (which EVERY mechanic who looks at is says is a great, solid, car with a good engine, and to whom I usually reply with a sardonic laugh and the reminder that it's only a good car because I replaced the transmission, which is worth more than the car is) for the time being.  I dread the coming of winter, because I know that I'll either have to leave the keys in my car and the car in neutral, or start it as soon as I get out of bed and leave it running while I shower and get dressed in the hope that it will get warm enough that it will shift the heck out of park.

Luckily for me, no one wants to steal my car.

But, man, I really wish I could get a new car.  A new car with a good transmission (possibly named Feathers) and good door panels that happen to be insulated (unlike mine) against road noise and a better stereo.

Maybe I can get one of those "Overhaulin'"-type shows to glam up my car.  Then again, who wants to see a glammed-up 1995 Ford Taurus?  (But I'm really curious to see what they could do to make it cool; maybe turn it into a Dodge Challenger?  That would be magic!)

Also, why were Mustangs SO DARN UGLY in the 80s?  Is there any logical explanation for that?  Because, really.

I liked it first!

So apparently rose gold is trending now.

I am angry about this.

Because!  I liked it first!  And I HATE IT when something I like suddenly become popular and people are all over it, because then I feel unoriginal and boring.

Remember That One Time I bought myself a pink sapphire ring for my 30th birthday?  And wore it as my engagement ring for a while?  And then decided that I didn't really want a diamond ring because I'm so terrifically bored by the vast majority of boring white gold and diamond engagement rings?  Even though I probably think yours is super pretty and perfectly suited to you?  Remember that time?

Also, remember how pink has been my favorite color since I was born?  Remember how I like pink sparkly things?  And how I want something pink for my wedding and engagement rings?  And how I've been looking at rose gold, pink sapphires, morganites, pink diamonds, pink topazes, and pink beryls for the last, oh, 10 years?

Stop stealing my ideas, media!  Stop it! 

Fine.  I'm going to like these things anyway.  I liked them before they were trendy, and I'll like them for the rest of my life.  I've spent a LOT of time thinking about this, guys, and I know that I will never regret my choice.  I will never buy into something just because everyone else is.  I only like things because I like them.

So there.

Birth Plan: Addendum

Please don't misunderstand me.  If you want a home birth and you have an awesome (and experienced) midwife, that's awesome!  Go you!  It is absolutely your right to choose that, and I applaud you. 

Birth Plan

I read a lot of blogs.  A LOT.  Some of them have to do with giving birth, and the majority of those involve home births.  I've also read a lot of horror stories about home births--stories about unlicensed midwives, women calling themselves midwives with no actual formal training, mothers who are so anti-Western medicine that they refuse to go to a hospital, midwives who don't call emergency services when the mother's labor extends more than 24 hours, babies who die, mothers who die, mothers who are so hung up on their perfect birth plan that they can't handle the idea that something might (and often does) go wrong.  I've read about awesome home births and tragic home births.  I've read about educated, caring, professional midwives who know when something is beyond their abilities, and I've read about midwives who insist they're right at the expense of a life.

Here's the thing.  Even though I'm not married nor am I pregnant, I am automatically going to have a high-risk pregnancy just because of my age.  I'm in uncharted territory at this point.  My cousin a couple of years older than me had her last baby (now 1 year old, fat and sassy) at great risk to him and to herself and will not be able to have more children.  My direct female relatives were done having children for various health reasons by the time they were 35.  I have no idea what is going to happen when I'm pregnant.  Things could be smooth and wonderful, or I could end up on bed-rest for six months.  I could have four healthy children, or one child with a birth defect, or none at all.   

I won't know until it happens.

My response to all those heartfelt (and sometimes psychologically/emotionally bullying) birth plans I read about is short and simple:

My birth plan, should I be lucky and blessed enough to actually have one, is to bring a baby into this world alive.  I will do anything it takes to bring a living, healthy baby into this world.  If that means my mom moves in with me while I'm on bed-rest, so be it.  If that means I'm in a hospital for eight weeks, hooked up to all kinds of equipment, consider it done.

And don't you dare try to bully or shame me into thinking I'm somehow a bad person for making this decision.

Hoooo boy...

I am so tired of people making assumptions about Mormon women based on flawed, sexist, and bigoted stereotypes.  I could go off for DAYS about how society is so messed up and true feminism is so misunderstood and how pr0n has infiltrated almost every aspect of our lives so we expect/assume certain things.

Right now, though, I won't.  It's enough, today, to say that sometimes I want to go totally off-grid and raise my future family in a yurt in the Montana wilderness to protect them from this horrible world.

PSA: Tights vs Leggings

I will not elaborate on my opinions of this trend, but I will give you a handy tip:

If you insist on wearing leggings/tights, after you pull them on in the morning, have someone take a picture of you with a flash.  If you can see through them, they are not pants and you probably shouldn't be wearing them alone.  And, believe me, even if you think no one will notice, WE DO.  You would not believe the number of women I've seen who are wearing nothing more than opaque tights under their too-short skirts or shirts.

Here's a good rule:  If you'd be uncomfortable wearing that skirt/top/dress without leggings underneath, maybe you shouldn't wear it.

A case of the grumps

I hate the phone.
I hate entitled attitudes.
I hate being hungry.
I hate, um, spiders.

Huh.  I was going to write an exhaustive list of things I hate today, but I kind of ran out of steam there.  I suppose that's a good thing, right? 

Maybe I'm just hungry, which makes me irritable.  Time to up the old blood sugar.

Let me just clear this up for you.

I know we all love to hear the "Marilyn Monroe was a size 14 so there you chumps!" schtick.  It's kind of empowering to think that one of the most beautiful women in the world was a size 14.  But.  Let's get this clear.  A size 14 in the 1950s is equivalent to a size 6 or 8 today.  Even at her heaviest, sweet Marilyn was still pretty small, although curvy.  What I think a lot of people don't understand is that movie stars (then and now) tend to be shorter than we assume and thinner than average.  People also don't understand that sizing has changed a lot in the last 50 years.  If it makes you feel awesome that Marilyn was a more voluptuous sex-symbol than many celebrities today, that's awesome, but don't kid yourself.  She was never considered "plus-size".

Don't even get me started on the number of old Hollywood stars who had drug addictions and eating disorders.  It's a sad, sad thing, isn't it?

I'll just get this out of the way right now

1. I don't want to find a new place for my master key at work.  The place I've hidden it for the last few months has been great, but this morning I came in to find the clip on the floor and the magnet nowhere to be found.  I ask you, how hard is it to put things back the way you found them?  How do you lose a big magnet?  Now I have to find a new place for my key because, without the magnet, I can't put it where it was.  Fun.
2. Maybe I'll just keep the key with me at all times.  That'll show 'em.
3. At least I was able to find a parking spot.
4. We're out of water bottles for the water cooler.  My quest to stay hydrated is thwarted!  Thwarted, I tell you!
5. I don't understand how someone can be kind, generous, and thoughtful, and yet wildly immature at the same time.  It's a paradox.
6. If you've had a bronchial cough since Thanksgiving, you should probably get that checked.
7. You know how sometimes you hate yogurt but there's nothing else quick and convenient?  It's been like that for the last couple of months.  It's all I can do to not gag while eating it.
8. At least I can listen to Paul Simon's Graceland online.  That's very helpful.