Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. I've been crabby and impatient the last few days dealing with the end-of-pregnancy body blahs, but I'm still very thankful for many things in my life. This list is not really in order, but here we are:
1. Always and forever, I am thankful to Min Gi, who continues to surprise me with his patience, concern, love, and growth. He's about to be the best damn dad in the whole world to our little one--I can tell.
2. I am thankful for the closeness I've had with my family this year. My family is not always easy to get along with up close, but the last year has been one of a surprising increase in the depth and quality of my relationships with each of my immediate family members. Most especially my mother, who at one time I believed I could never have the kind of close relationship I desired. Do they still drive me nuts? Sure. But we are all in a very good place these days. It was unexpected.
3. I am very thankful for my mental health recovery. Being depressed sucks (so y'all know).
4. Despite the discomforts of the last few weeks, I'm thankful that my first time ever being pregnant has been so healthy and successful. I know not everyone gets that, so even though I have griped and dealt with negative hormonal surges, I've been pretty darn lucky overall.
5. I am thankful that I found a job I love and believe in and feel valued and competent. This probably has contributed to #3 more than anything else. I am thankful to my co-workers and for the opportunity that came about at such a fortuitous moment in my life. And extremely thankful about how supportive they have been of my transition to motherhood.
6. I am very thankful for friends near and far who have been patient with my funk earlier in 2011 and, despite largely electing to be childless themselves (so far for some), tolerant of my increasing baby-brain-ness. I am thankful for the new friends I've made who are already moms (and some old friends who have grown close again because of this) and have been helping me through a lot of this.
7. I am thankful for Min Gi's family who support us immeasurably from Korea. I know he misses them a ton and I *will* find a way for us to visit them next spring or summer.
8. I am thankful for the strides we have made this year financially as a family unit. Compared to this time last year, we are in a much better place as far as working together to accomplish monetary goals. We still have a long way to go, and I promise I'll start blogging about this again, but for now, Min Gi and I are just a lot more supportive of each other and a lot more comfortable expressing our true needs than we were. It's pretty awesome.
9. I am thankful for the health of our other two family members--Saja and Princess--who have been through 5 moves in the last two years (one of which was international) and have adjusted stunningly each time. Dear, dear kitties.
10. Everyday, I am more and more thankful for the choices my privileged life allows. I become more aware of them as I grow older, and sometimes it's hard to think about how lucky I am because of the difficulties I see, but overall, I'm a very lucky, lucky person.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Flashback Travel: Overnight Sailing Trip to Rock Hall, MD
Sunset on the Chesapeake Bay.
In August 2010, when I first came to America from Korea, Dad was eager to show off his newly acquired sailboat. My brother Brian and I served as his crew on an overnight trip across the Chesapeake Bay to Rock Hall, MD.
She's a beautiful 32-foot delight. We are docking her in Rock Hall, MD.
Crab pots in Rock Hall, MD.
Cormorants. Can you tell from the poop stains that this is a regular hangout for them?
The trip was a great success. We had some bonding time and some peace. Except that August has crap for wind in this area, but we didn't really mind. Check out the full album below:
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Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Ultrasound Image
Ultrasound images are now all fancy and 3-D awesome, but I'm still not one who really would regularly expose the innards of her uterus for mass consumption. However, when I went for my second one at 24 weeks, the little one showed his Korean roots by flipping the Korean "V" for victory sign in an early picture, so I felt the need to share:
My friend, Jim, insists that he's actually throwing a gang sign, but I'm pretty sure that's the Korean "look at the camera" thing. What do you think?
Lazy Mom's Note: This image is from way back in August. The baby is now at least five times the size he was, but I finally got around to scanning this image in so that you can see. Yes, yes I am that lazy.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
November Already?
How did it get to be the end of 2011 already? And how is it that the most important event of my 2011 (in case you can't figure that one out, it's the birth of my first child sometime in the next month or so) has not even happened yet?
I'm feeling very transitional these days, and I'm becoming more comfortable with it. I usually like to have a set plan for the next six months, year, and five years mapped out. I've always remained flexible with these plans, allowing them to change as new life stuff comes up, but I feel a lot more comfortable when I know where I'm going next.
However, I've come to terms over the last three months that I cannot possibly predict what my life will be like after the birth of my son. (Three months ago, with hormones raging, I was utterly despondent over the loss of control becoming a parent represented. Although I chose not to blog about my misery, rest assured there was much fighting with Min Gi and fear of insanity...). I can imagine and hope and daydream about the kind of parent I'd like to be, but if I'm honest with myself, I cannot possibly know what my priorities will be after our family grows by 50 percent, other than to assume that my child will be in my top five, likely vying for the top two, along with my marriage.
This makes things like planning a career path, health and financial goals, travel adventures, or writing projects somewhat up in the air. I'm guessing these things will still be very important to me, but the way I approach them and the shapes they take may alter dramatically. And that's ok.
Today, at 36 weeks and change, I had another ultrasound to determine the position of the baby (he's head down, which is grand) and the approximate size of the beast at the moment (around 6lbs 5oz, though my doctor cautions that 3rd trimester scans are not very accurate and it could be a pound up or down from there). All is healthy and well. On Friday, he will officially be "term" meaning that they won't try to stop labor if it starts, although we're still hoping he goes to 39+ weeks, since that's best for his development.
I'm about ready to have my body back to myself, although it will ironically signal a much more profound movement away from independence than pregnancy. I'll let you know how that goes.
I'm feeling very transitional these days, and I'm becoming more comfortable with it. I usually like to have a set plan for the next six months, year, and five years mapped out. I've always remained flexible with these plans, allowing them to change as new life stuff comes up, but I feel a lot more comfortable when I know where I'm going next.
However, I've come to terms over the last three months that I cannot possibly predict what my life will be like after the birth of my son. (Three months ago, with hormones raging, I was utterly despondent over the loss of control becoming a parent represented. Although I chose not to blog about my misery, rest assured there was much fighting with Min Gi and fear of insanity...). I can imagine and hope and daydream about the kind of parent I'd like to be, but if I'm honest with myself, I cannot possibly know what my priorities will be after our family grows by 50 percent, other than to assume that my child will be in my top five, likely vying for the top two, along with my marriage.
This makes things like planning a career path, health and financial goals, travel adventures, or writing projects somewhat up in the air. I'm guessing these things will still be very important to me, but the way I approach them and the shapes they take may alter dramatically. And that's ok.
Today, at 36 weeks and change, I had another ultrasound to determine the position of the baby (he's head down, which is grand) and the approximate size of the beast at the moment (around 6lbs 5oz, though my doctor cautions that 3rd trimester scans are not very accurate and it could be a pound up or down from there). All is healthy and well. On Friday, he will officially be "term" meaning that they won't try to stop labor if it starts, although we're still hoping he goes to 39+ weeks, since that's best for his development.
I'm about ready to have my body back to myself, although it will ironically signal a much more profound movement away from independence than pregnancy. I'll let you know how that goes.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Last Photos from the August 2010 Jeju Trip
Well over a year ago, Min Gi and I took a second honeymoon to Jeju Island in Korea to bid goodbye to the country and because we wouldn't see each other for about a month after I went back to the U.S. Back when I was still a good blogger (not dealing with job stress, depression, or pregnancy), I blogged about one piece of the trip. I am just now getting around to putting up some pictures from the rest of our adventures on our 4.5 days on the island.
We had a fantastic time. We made new friends, visited some ones we knew from before, and fell in love with a place. We have decided that when we return to Korea to settle there, we want to live here. For now, enjoy the photos!
We had a fantastic time. We made new friends, visited some ones we knew from before, and fell in love with a place. We have decided that when we return to Korea to settle there, we want to live here. For now, enjoy the photos!
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| Dragon Rock in Jeju |
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| Manjanggul Cave (Lava Tube) in Jeju |
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| Folk Village in Jeju |
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| Other Jeju Photos |
Friday, September 30, 2011
End of September? Reading List, Part One
Where on earth has this year gone? We're already well into fall, and I feel like I haven't been able to catch up with where I want to be from a blogging perspective.
I had a health scare this month when I tested high for the first round of gestational diabetes testing, but that proved to be a fluke since the 3 hour glucose tolerance test was not even borderline. It freaked me out a lot. When I get freaked out these days, I obsess in my head, but don't write about it much. I think I need to work on this.
I've been reading a lot. I would like to write some reviews of a few of the books I've been devouring lately, but I don't think I'll ever get around to writing seperate reviews of each, so here's some (we'll call it Part One) of my top summer reads (in no particular order, except perhaps vaguely in the order I read/can recall them):
1. Apologize, Apologize by Elizabeth Kelly--I got this at one of the Border's closing sales to read on Martha's Vineyard since the story takes place there. It was surprisingly tragic (the description makes it sound like a coming-of-age comedy). A fascinating character study of truly bizarre people. And the main character even has a brief stint as a suicide hotline counselor...
2. Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother by Amy Chua--A book that was all over the media because it claimed that Asian parenting was somehow superior to Western parenting. I feel like this may have been what even Chua herself believed she was trying to write, but I think her editors did her a disservice in promoting the book this way. The tale that unfolds in the narrative is one that is much more humble and honest than the way it came off in the news articles. First of all, she is trying to recreate in her (incredibly priveledged) upper-middle class American daughters the character building lessons she learned as the daughter of working-class Chinese immigrants by being absolutely nuts about music education. I don't think it accomplished what she thinks it did.
It ends, as all parenting narratives really should, in uncertainty and doubt. Ultimately, the reason Chua's parenting works is because she cares so very much about her girls and they know that, not because of any particular techniques she claims.
3. Little Bee by Chris Cleave--This is the second book from the highly acclaimed British author. It's unusual and powerful because it is written in two voices--that of an African refugee nicknamed Little Bee and a British woman whose life becomes inextricably entwined with Little Bee's under the worst of circumstances. It is exquisite. It's the most humanizing and heartwrenching tale of what globalization means that I have ever read.
I don't know what else I can say about this book except this: Read it.
...to be continued.
I had a health scare this month when I tested high for the first round of gestational diabetes testing, but that proved to be a fluke since the 3 hour glucose tolerance test was not even borderline. It freaked me out a lot. When I get freaked out these days, I obsess in my head, but don't write about it much. I think I need to work on this.
I've been reading a lot. I would like to write some reviews of a few of the books I've been devouring lately, but I don't think I'll ever get around to writing seperate reviews of each, so here's some (we'll call it Part One) of my top summer reads (in no particular order, except perhaps vaguely in the order I read/can recall them):
1. Apologize, Apologize by Elizabeth Kelly--I got this at one of the Border's closing sales to read on Martha's Vineyard since the story takes place there. It was surprisingly tragic (the description makes it sound like a coming-of-age comedy). A fascinating character study of truly bizarre people. And the main character even has a brief stint as a suicide hotline counselor...
2. Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother by Amy Chua--A book that was all over the media because it claimed that Asian parenting was somehow superior to Western parenting. I feel like this may have been what even Chua herself believed she was trying to write, but I think her editors did her a disservice in promoting the book this way. The tale that unfolds in the narrative is one that is much more humble and honest than the way it came off in the news articles. First of all, she is trying to recreate in her (incredibly priveledged) upper-middle class American daughters the character building lessons she learned as the daughter of working-class Chinese immigrants by being absolutely nuts about music education. I don't think it accomplished what she thinks it did.
It ends, as all parenting narratives really should, in uncertainty and doubt. Ultimately, the reason Chua's parenting works is because she cares so very much about her girls and they know that, not because of any particular techniques she claims.
3. Little Bee by Chris Cleave--This is the second book from the highly acclaimed British author. It's unusual and powerful because it is written in two voices--that of an African refugee nicknamed Little Bee and a British woman whose life becomes inextricably entwined with Little Bee's under the worst of circumstances. It is exquisite. It's the most humanizing and heartwrenching tale of what globalization means that I have ever read.
I don't know what else I can say about this book except this: Read it.
...to be continued.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Baby Fever/Spoiling Myself
This morning I found myself immersed in a deep conversation with the contents of my uterus.
It's not like I haven't held conversations before with beings that cannot possibly actually respond in a common language--I talk to my cats most days. I have been known to heckle a tree or two in my day. I've even cooed at my various pieces of technology that just needed a bit of coaxing to function. But speaking to my own body is new.
It's happened. I finally caught the baby fever. Maybe I just read enough books to feel like I may actually have a clue how to care for a human creature under the age of two. Maybe I was swept away by the awesomeness of cottonbabies, a company that makes cloth diapering systems that humans who are not super-adept supermoms can actually use. Maybe feeling the little one squirming around on a regular basis makes the whole thing more real. Maybe it's just third trimester hormones kicking in.
Whatever it is... I'm finally at that gross, gooey-eyed, baby-obsessed stage where everything on my to-do list, every thought that forms in my brain, nearly every piece of media I absorb is centered around all things baby. Preparing for baby, shopping for baby, talking about baby. Baby, baby, baby. I make myself sick when I think about it from an objective point of view. But I can't be objective here. Baby is too damned important. Dudes, I'm responsible for the care, formation, and rearing of another human. It's like I'm Dr. Frankenstein here--IT'S ALIVE!!! And we all know where that story ended...
At the same time, a powerful need to indulge and appreciate these final months of me-focused Diana life has taken over. Whenever I find those baby fever urges taking over the animal cortex of my brain, I suddenly find myself in a car, driving to a cafe or restaurant to sit for a few hours over some yummy indulgent drink or food and read a novel. I have to cling to this last quiet resistance of solitude and peace and adult independence. I nap whenever I can, precisely because I can do so right now. I'm making plans with people I haven't seen in months/years.
It's like storing up for winter. I'm the ant of young adult self-obsession.
Most of my blog readers (that I know of) don't have kids. I don't really want Going Places to turn into something that resembles the blog version of the people mocked for the their facebook status updates on STFU, Parents, but it does seem likely I'm going to need a place to obsessively recount my (mis) adventures in booby feeding, poo obsession, and indulgent bragging about the wonder of my perfect infant. I don't plan to subsume my identity on the almighty alter of motherhood, but let's be honest here--from the time the kid finally arrives, mommy brain will likely take over.
To that end, I'm working on a blogging solution that should enable me to balance the two competing lizard brains of my soul--the independent woman who started this blog, and the woman who's about to become a mom. (There are hints of it in a blog I started on wordpress about a year ago.) For now, I will just say that most of the reason for my failure to post here is an inability to self-regulate the conflicting nature of my interests, and my desire to spare my loyal readers the indecencies of pregnancy.
For those of you who've been craving the nasty oh-my-god-my-boobs-are-now-eclipsed-by-the-massiveness-of- my-belly and middle-of-the-night-gross-bodily-function updates, I promise that I'll have a separate place for that so that you may sympathize with (or mock) me to your hearts' contents in the upcoming weeks.
I will be posting such Mama Drama and Baby Obsessive posts at my new blog, The Parentally Challenged. Enjoy!
It's not like I haven't held conversations before with beings that cannot possibly actually respond in a common language--I talk to my cats most days. I have been known to heckle a tree or two in my day. I've even cooed at my various pieces of technology that just needed a bit of coaxing to function. But speaking to my own body is new.
It's happened. I finally caught the baby fever. Maybe I just read enough books to feel like I may actually have a clue how to care for a human creature under the age of two. Maybe I was swept away by the awesomeness of cottonbabies, a company that makes cloth diapering systems that humans who are not super-adept supermoms can actually use. Maybe feeling the little one squirming around on a regular basis makes the whole thing more real. Maybe it's just third trimester hormones kicking in.
Whatever it is... I'm finally at that gross, gooey-eyed, baby-obsessed stage where everything on my to-do list, every thought that forms in my brain, nearly every piece of media I absorb is centered around all things baby. Preparing for baby, shopping for baby, talking about baby. Baby, baby, baby. I make myself sick when I think about it from an objective point of view. But I can't be objective here. Baby is too damned important. Dudes, I'm responsible for the care, formation, and rearing of another human. It's like I'm Dr. Frankenstein here--IT'S ALIVE!!! And we all know where that story ended...
At the same time, a powerful need to indulge and appreciate these final months of me-focused Diana life has taken over. Whenever I find those baby fever urges taking over the animal cortex of my brain, I suddenly find myself in a car, driving to a cafe or restaurant to sit for a few hours over some yummy indulgent drink or food and read a novel. I have to cling to this last quiet resistance of solitude and peace and adult independence. I nap whenever I can, precisely because I can do so right now. I'm making plans with people I haven't seen in months/years.
It's like storing up for winter. I'm the ant of young adult self-obsession.
Most of my blog readers (that I know of) don't have kids. I don't really want Going Places to turn into something that resembles the blog version of the people mocked for the their facebook status updates on STFU, Parents, but it does seem likely I'm going to need a place to obsessively recount my (mis) adventures in booby feeding, poo obsession, and indulgent bragging about the wonder of my perfect infant. I don't plan to subsume my identity on the almighty alter of motherhood, but let's be honest here--from the time the kid finally arrives, mommy brain will likely take over.
To that end, I'm working on a blogging solution that should enable me to balance the two competing lizard brains of my soul--the independent woman who started this blog, and the woman who's about to become a mom. (There are hints of it in a blog I started on wordpress about a year ago.) For now, I will just say that most of the reason for my failure to post here is an inability to self-regulate the conflicting nature of my interests, and my desire to spare my loyal readers the indecencies of pregnancy.
For those of you who've been craving the nasty oh-my-god-my-boobs-are-now-eclipsed-by-the-massiveness-of- my-belly and middle-of-the-night-gross-bodily-function updates, I promise that I'll have a separate place for that so that you may sympathize with (or mock) me to your hearts' contents in the upcoming weeks.
I will be posting such Mama Drama and Baby Obsessive posts at my new blog, The Parentally Challenged. Enjoy!
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Flashback Travel: Haeinsa Temple, July 2010
Temple art detail. I would love to know which Buddhist story this comes from...
The Tripitaka Koreana and the reason for this temple's fame. It's the print panels for a really old and awesome Buddhist text, preserved in traditional wood structures.
I had an epiphany walking this maze back in March 2008 when I came here with another friend.
Check out the full album with lots of cool temple art details:
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| Haeinsa, 2010 |
Monday, August 29, 2011
Natural Disaster #2: Goodnight, Irene.
What a week it has been here in the DC/Baltimore area, folks. And damn, I should really be careful about wishing for experiences.
Just as we were all coming off of the collective "phew" from the earthquake that caused very little damage and even fewer casualties, the weatherpersons started to project a path of doom for the Hurricane Irene creeping up the east coast to finally hit North Carolina on Saturday, pounding the crap out of most of the eastern sea board up into Canada.
We don't often get hurricanes in this area--they usually fizzle out to minorly annoying tropical storms before they even cause us any rain--so we aren't particularly equipped to handle them well. The last serious hurricane here was when Hurricane Isabel found her way up the Chesapeake Bay eight years ago. I was in college down in St. Mary's, which is a low-lying area surrounded by water. I hunkered down for the storm a bit more inland (with my friend Amy, who is--interestingly enough--expecting her first child about a week after mine) and remember that the main effects were a loss of power lasting an average of 8-72 hours for most people, major flooding (I know some people who lost homes in Georgetown from that), and downed trees becoming projectile missiles that destroyed parts of homes, cars, and anything else they fancied smashing into.
The nice thing about a hurricane (and just about the ONLY "nice" thing about a hurricane) is that you usually have plenty of time to prepare for the doom. Which is great (because you can prevent a lot of casualties and some more severe property loss), but also sucks because you feel obligated to do a whole lot of things to prepare that may prove unnecessary because the path of the storm alters.
With the memory of Isabel in mind, after working my 8 hour shift at the crisis hotline on Friday (with lots of people calling to ask for info about the storm), I slept only a few hours and spent all morning Saturday prepping my folks' house for the storm and making some foods that wouldn't require the use of electricity to eat (pasta salad, anyone?). Since my parents are doing a lot of home repairs at the moment, by the time I finished, I was dripping with sweat and the garage was bursting with renovation supplies, trash cans, plastic bins, and assorted lawn things. Then it was time to shower and head back in to work.
The worst bit of the storm was predicted for this area between 10pm Saturday and 3am Sunday. Well... I work 4pm-12am on Saturday, so I just packed up the blow up camping bed, an overnight bag, plenty of food, and headed in figuring that I would wait to leave until after things had calmed down. I crashed in a co-worker's office after my shift ended and woke up around 7:30 am. We only lost power twice during the storm, and it came back quickly (within 5 minutes) both times.
As my drive home (and Sunday evening shift at work with many, many calls from people in crisis because of the storm) proved, we were very lucky. Every other neighborhood I drove through seemed to have some major property damage/power loss. The ones between were completely untouched. I'm grateful that my family's house was spared, but I know others, like Amanda, dealt with some major damage and long-term outages. School openings were delayed in Southern Maryland. People in Baltimore are still without power. The news is saying the property damage is reaching record highs and at least 31 deaths have been attributed to the storm.
My husband found the whole thing exhilarating, but he was definitely anxious. Korea is not a country that gets much in the way of earthquakes, thunderstorms (which DC has had plenty of in late summer), or hurricanes, so it was all new for him. He worried himself sick about me, even though he knew exactly where I was and that I wasn't doing stupid things like driving home in the middle of the storm.
Generally, the people who analyze this sort of thing (like my friend Sam who works on NOAA's latest hurricane weather computer modeling) say that the DC metro area got off pretty light, and I tend to agree. Although that doesn't really help the people who did lose a lot. (Side note--I'm really going to have to have a rant one of these days about how not opening storm shelters until after the storm is well under way in a county that has a significant homeless population living out of cars and under bridges and bleachers is unacceptable. Telling them to "stay in the basement" doesn't help, morons.)
Let's hope that was the last bit of "excitement" on the mother nature front for at least... say... the next three months. At which point I'm sure that the labor and delivery of my feisty child will be about all the "natural" and "disaster" I can tolerate.
Just as we were all coming off of the collective "phew" from the earthquake that caused very little damage and even fewer casualties, the weatherpersons started to project a path of doom for the Hurricane Irene creeping up the east coast to finally hit North Carolina on Saturday, pounding the crap out of most of the eastern sea board up into Canada.
We don't often get hurricanes in this area--they usually fizzle out to minorly annoying tropical storms before they even cause us any rain--so we aren't particularly equipped to handle them well. The last serious hurricane here was when Hurricane Isabel found her way up the Chesapeake Bay eight years ago. I was in college down in St. Mary's, which is a low-lying area surrounded by water. I hunkered down for the storm a bit more inland (with my friend Amy, who is--interestingly enough--expecting her first child about a week after mine) and remember that the main effects were a loss of power lasting an average of 8-72 hours for most people, major flooding (I know some people who lost homes in Georgetown from that), and downed trees becoming projectile missiles that destroyed parts of homes, cars, and anything else they fancied smashing into.
The nice thing about a hurricane (and just about the ONLY "nice" thing about a hurricane) is that you usually have plenty of time to prepare for the doom. Which is great (because you can prevent a lot of casualties and some more severe property loss), but also sucks because you feel obligated to do a whole lot of things to prepare that may prove unnecessary because the path of the storm alters.
With the memory of Isabel in mind, after working my 8 hour shift at the crisis hotline on Friday (with lots of people calling to ask for info about the storm), I slept only a few hours and spent all morning Saturday prepping my folks' house for the storm and making some foods that wouldn't require the use of electricity to eat (pasta salad, anyone?). Since my parents are doing a lot of home repairs at the moment, by the time I finished, I was dripping with sweat and the garage was bursting with renovation supplies, trash cans, plastic bins, and assorted lawn things. Then it was time to shower and head back in to work.
The worst bit of the storm was predicted for this area between 10pm Saturday and 3am Sunday. Well... I work 4pm-12am on Saturday, so I just packed up the blow up camping bed, an overnight bag, plenty of food, and headed in figuring that I would wait to leave until after things had calmed down. I crashed in a co-worker's office after my shift ended and woke up around 7:30 am. We only lost power twice during the storm, and it came back quickly (within 5 minutes) both times.
As my drive home (and Sunday evening shift at work with many, many calls from people in crisis because of the storm) proved, we were very lucky. Every other neighborhood I drove through seemed to have some major property damage/power loss. The ones between were completely untouched. I'm grateful that my family's house was spared, but I know others, like Amanda, dealt with some major damage and long-term outages. School openings were delayed in Southern Maryland. People in Baltimore are still without power. The news is saying the property damage is reaching record highs and at least 31 deaths have been attributed to the storm.
My husband found the whole thing exhilarating, but he was definitely anxious. Korea is not a country that gets much in the way of earthquakes, thunderstorms (which DC has had plenty of in late summer), or hurricanes, so it was all new for him. He worried himself sick about me, even though he knew exactly where I was and that I wasn't doing stupid things like driving home in the middle of the storm.
Generally, the people who analyze this sort of thing (like my friend Sam who works on NOAA's latest hurricane weather computer modeling) say that the DC metro area got off pretty light, and I tend to agree. Although that doesn't really help the people who did lose a lot. (Side note--I'm really going to have to have a rant one of these days about how not opening storm shelters until after the storm is well under way in a county that has a significant homeless population living out of cars and under bridges and bleachers is unacceptable. Telling them to "stay in the basement" doesn't help, morons.)
Let's hope that was the last bit of "excitement" on the mother nature front for at least... say... the next three months. At which point I'm sure that the labor and delivery of my feisty child will be about all the "natural" and "disaster" I can tolerate.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Earthquake?
As most of you know by now, yesterday just before 2 p.m., DC (and much of the east coast) was rocked by a freak, nearly 6.0 magnitude earthquake centered in Virginia. The good news is that there has been very little damage reported. Everyone's been sharing their stories of doom and gloom from their buildings shaking and fears of an apocalypse and all that. So what's mine?
I'll tell you.
Nothing.
That's right. N-O-T-H-I-N-G.
I didn't feel a damn thing when the big disaster quake of '11 went down because I had chosen that moment to hop in my car and drive to the gym for my daily laps in the pool. I guess when you're driving 40-50 mph, some mild ground rumbling just doesn't even register in your frame of reference. When I got to the gym, everyone was freaking out and watching CNN where the story had just begun unfolding. I asked what happened and a girl in the locker room who had been lifting weights said that a few minutes earlier, the whole building and all the gym equipment was shaking and felt like it went on for a full minute.
I was concerned initially that bad things had happened (after all, that's a pretty significant natural disaster), but as the reports that no casualties had occurred and few buildings had reported any damage, my disappointment at having missed the whole shebang set in.
I swam a half-mile (which did not feel nearly as satisfying as usual) and returned to my car to 13 (yes, 13) missed calls from my husband who had been pretty freaked out that I'd been unavailable in the hour following the event. My sister had also sent a panicked text message.
But, of course, everything was fine. Life resumed normalcy. It was like the whole thing never happened.
Except for me, I don't even get the memory of the thing.
Is this what they mean when they say that sometimes history just passes us right on by?
I'll tell you.
Nothing.
That's right. N-O-T-H-I-N-G.
I didn't feel a damn thing when the big disaster quake of '11 went down because I had chosen that moment to hop in my car and drive to the gym for my daily laps in the pool. I guess when you're driving 40-50 mph, some mild ground rumbling just doesn't even register in your frame of reference. When I got to the gym, everyone was freaking out and watching CNN where the story had just begun unfolding. I asked what happened and a girl in the locker room who had been lifting weights said that a few minutes earlier, the whole building and all the gym equipment was shaking and felt like it went on for a full minute.
I was concerned initially that bad things had happened (after all, that's a pretty significant natural disaster), but as the reports that no casualties had occurred and few buildings had reported any damage, my disappointment at having missed the whole shebang set in.
I swam a half-mile (which did not feel nearly as satisfying as usual) and returned to my car to 13 (yes, 13) missed calls from my husband who had been pretty freaked out that I'd been unavailable in the hour following the event. My sister had also sent a panicked text message.
But, of course, everything was fine. Life resumed normalcy. It was like the whole thing never happened.
Except for me, I don't even get the memory of the thing.
Is this what they mean when they say that sometimes history just passes us right on by?
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