Airport Travel Reminders From a Frustrated Pregnant Lady

I know it's the holiday season. I know I am nearly 7 months pregnant. I also know that because of the aforementioned, I have moved from the "speedy traveller" group to the "needs extra time" group. That said, I feel it is necessary (and perhaps will be entertaining to you) to mention a few general rules that most decent people follow when traveling...as I sit awaiting an indefinitely delayed flight to Little Rock:

1. If you are moving slowly, try, for the love of Pete, to walk in a straight line. I understand that seasoned, quick travelers (like I used to be) can weave in and out of the crowd and usually do so without annoying the hell out of everyone else. But slow movers, it would be great if we all walked in a straight line so that quicker folks can get passed us without having to guess which way we are going to veer next. Also, bonus points for staying to the right hand side.

2. If the check-in line is long, please take a look at your surroundings before you place yourself at the end of that line. If it is clear that you and your travel companions, or you and your ginormous luggage or just you are going to take up the last bit of space between the line and the WALL OF THE AIRPORT, please take a moment to bend the line. You know, pick right or left and have the line start snaking in that direction.

3. DO NOT GO THROUGH THE METAL DETECTOR UNTIL YOUR CRAP IS INSIDE THE X-RAY! This infuriates me. I am not going to push your stuff through for you.

4. If you chose to wear a belt or thigh high boots or 500 pieces of jewelry, please collect your things and hobble over to a designated area to put your stuff back on.

5. Do not get all up in my space as soon as the seatbelt sign is off. I know the drill. I will stand up and move into the aisle once the few rows in front of me start to deplane. I am not into standing hunched over (pregnant or not) for 15 minutes just to make sure no one behind me gets off before me.

6. If you see an obviously pregnant woman who is obviously struggling to get her luggage into the overhead bin or, to bend down and pick up her boarding pass that fell out of her pocket, please help her! Zero people offered to help me. I understand that I should be able to do all of this myself (and I did!) but it would have been really, really nice if someone had offered a little push instead of staring at me.

Heterosexuals Use Homosexual Agenda to Look Cool

My goal with this title was to write an Onion-style post about Utah's recent lift on their constitutional ban on same-sex marriage and how heterosexuals state-wide got a piece of the equality pie. I was going to quote myself as an internet-ordained minister spewing some rainbow language about how I was honored to help the homos get married on Monday the 23rd before the expected emergency stay on the decision which would have prevented marriages until the Supreme Court heard the case. I was going to say that I had to elbow out other ministers in order to marry folks in front of the cameras of Fox news and CNN.

But I am not that witty. I am more of the sappy type.

I did get ordained on the internet after I heard there might be ministers needed onsite to quickly marry couples before the stay.

I did post all over Facebook spewing rainbow-worded equality love.

And then I felt so guilty about the responses I was getting because, well, this isn't about me at all.

But then I thought, it kind of is. It is kind of about all of us.

Homosexual rights is the major civil rights movement of today (not that the civil rights movement of the 50's and 60's is over, because it isn't). And civil rights issues effect everyone. I am a heterosexual white middle class female. So aside front the female part, I am a pretty privileged individual. But anyone with a family member or a friend who is denied basic human rights because of the way they look or who they love feels the pain of inequality. I have both of those things. And seeing people that I love, admire, respect and look up to treated differently than myself by the country we both live in is downright enraging.

So, on Monday Jim and I took our little fetus and joined the masses at the Salt Lake County Clerk's Office to first, witness and be a part of history and second, marry some folks if we were needed to do so. We were among many actual ministers (from actual churches) who took part in the day's affairs. We were not needed in any way, but we caught the major love-bug as we watched couples get married. Some couples had been together over 20 years, some had children, and some were newly engaged and giddy. We saw children crying with joy to see their moms or dads finally recognized as family in the state they call home.

I did have the incredible honor of marrying two men whom I knew through a friend and will now know forever. It was amazing to marry a couple that was so obviously in love, gay or straight. It made me think about how our friend Rick must have felt when he married us. With Jim's arm around me I pronounced them husband and husband and it made me the happiest I'd been since my own wedding day. To watch two previously denied people pledge their love to one another, hurting no one and no institution felt fucking amazing.

Proving that homosexual rights is one of the most polite, non-violent social fights in history, Monday night's rally was tranquil and humbling. While we recognized that the fight isn't over, we collectively and peacefully told those who think homosexuality is wrong (or otherwise less-than heterosexuality) that the people don't agree with them. That the country is moving in a different direction. And that if they want to progress with the rest of the nation, they better start readjusting their moral compass.

The Third Place

In college I read this book for a community building course. The Third Place is not your home, or your work but a place where you spend the third most of your time (behind work as the first and home as the second). Maybe it is a bar or a restaurant or a park or a coffee shop. These places are celebrated community gems "where everybody knows your name" and where you feel all warm and fuzzy and downright comfortable going.

For me and Jim, that place is the Jitterbug, a coffee shop just around the corner from our house run by a laid back Bruce who can play a mean guitar and has a heart of gold. When Jim and I first bought our home in  Sugarhouse we asked around about a cool coffee shop and unanimously we were told about the Bug. We were told that a few months earlier, Bruce had suffered a stroke and the entire neighborhood and beyond banded together and ran his shop, regular business hours until he was able to come back full time. For free. We knew we had struck Third Place gold.

While the main attraction for me is Bruce and his iced coffee that gets me so high it should be illegal, it would not be a solid Third Place if it weren't for it's other regular patrons. From my next door neighbor to across the valley, the Jitterbug has some loyal followers. On weekday mornings I know I will run into Art and he and Jim will talk about golf, or Francis who up until recently, would be most often found dozing off on one of Bruce's comfy chairs after his night shift as a baker. On the weekends my neighbor Mark brings his adorable girls and we just make the biggest deal out of "running into" them even though it is more likely we see them there than we don't.

Recently the Jitterbug Tribe has run into some sad luck. Art was diagnosed with lung cancer and is most likely at home for now. Jitterbug regulars have been at his house taking care of him and his wife since the day he got back from the hospital. Rebecca takes him to his appointments and Francis sits with his wife while they are gone. I haven't yet visited Art but I know I have a tough act to follow.

Last Sunday one of the veteran Jitterbug regulars passed away unexpectedly. Warren, "the dog man" was a quirky guy who wrote poetry and drew interesting (creepy?) characters. He sometimes would speak in an accent and would ALWAYS make you laugh. He never went anywhere without "the boys", his dogs Skinny and Twerp. Tonight was his wake at his other Third Place, his nighttime Third Place, a bar called The Spot. I walked in and saw everyone I had ever seen at the Jitterbug. From everyday folks like Francis and Mark to those I had only seen once before. Mo and Jesse were there who I never get to see because they are afternooners while I am a first-thing-in-the-morning customer. Hell, even the famous Colorado Melissa who moved away before Jim and I started going to the Jitterbug flew in from Washington to be there for Warren and Bruce and the Tribe.

To see a group of people who started out having nothing in common other than their favorite coffee shop band together during a time of need is a very special, moving thing.

This is what makes a place a Third Place.

Pregnancy is Liberating

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If You Don't Know, Now you Know!

While my world didn’t know I was with child, I was busy compiling a list of how much it sucks. Here are the things that no one tells you about pregnancy (first trimester addition):

1. You don’t have a “glow” at first. Your shit breaks out.

2. You’re not “showing” this early. You just have lost the ability to suck in your gut.

3. Your favorite perfume will smell like a garbage disposal.

4. Your gums are hella sensitive! I went to the dentist and thought my jaw was going to crumble out of my mouth the rest of the day.

5. This part goes SOOOOO slow!

6. You don’t feel ANYTHING besides a hangover. Yeah, your boobs swell, and your bloated, and constipated but, you have no other inclination that there is a tiny embryo, and then a fetus in your womb. None.

7. You will have a very serious concern that you are an alcoholic or other substance abuser because you feel very awkward at social functions sober (until the hangover feeling kicks in and then you will dry heave if you even think about hooch).

8. You will “crave” greasy food that isn’t good for you. You’ll go out and buy it. You will eat half of it. Then it becomes the grossest thing on the planet and you’ll throw it away.

9. When your hangover suddenly dissipates for a day (or an hour) you will freak the f*ck out that it didn’t stick.

 

10. When it all goes away and you realize this shitty phase was only a few weeks long...you realize your one lucky pregnant lady!

Swooning Over Love and Summer Rain

I love weddings. Moreover, I love being a part of weddings. Everyone is there to celebrate someone else's love and often ends up reflecting on their own love for others.

I recently got back from one of the most emotional weddings I've ever been a part of. I'm sure the beautiful scenery, the romantic summer rain and the whiskey had something to do with it; but mostly, it had to do with the immense love felt toward and between the bride and groom.

It also had to do with the fact that I have had a very, very emotional year. Losing two parents can really take it out of you. So, standing there, next to two people who have become some of my closest friends in record time; one who has also recently lost a parent, well, it made my heart fill with so much emotion that I cried like a baby well through dinner. So much emotion that I actually felt like blogging again.

My husband had the honor of marrying this fantastic couple and in my opinion, did a bang up job. Jim paid homage to Bob's deceased parents by quoting words they used in love letters to one another years before Bob was even born. I cried so hard that my contact fell out.

The wedding was a beautiful "destination" for not only those who had to travel across the country, but also those of us who only drove 45 miles up from the valley. Adorable accommodations, a breathtaking golf course view, and some intense, warm summer rain.

It poured as we ate burgers and mac 'n cheese at the rehearsal dinner, surrounded by open sliding glass. It poured as we danced the night away and smoked cigars underneath the saturated wedding tent. The thunder and lightening was unusual and intense and the cool water gave everyone a nice break from the triple digit temperatures. It was intoxicating.  

Thank you, Bob and Steph for sharing your special day with us. And thank you for providing me with an emotional outlet I've been needing for a long time now.

As a final, light note:

I measure the success of weddings via the below, and in my opinion, this wedding had high marks all around!

1. Tears. Who cried? Did the bride? Groom? EVERYONE IN THE ENTIRE AUDIENCE?
2. Friendship. Who is friends with who on FaceBook the morning after the wedding?
3. Hooch consumption. This particular wedding broke a record I am pretty sure.
4. Guests' photos. Much like my own wedding, there are little to no photos from the reception taken by any guest. They were too busy taking it in and experiencing it with their own, naked eyes:)

Tying their Figure 8 Knot

Bachelorettes!

My Dogs are Mentally Handicapped

My Dogs are Retarded Mentally Handicapped

Our adorable rescue pup, Sadie, is a bit of a spaz. She truly is adorable. So adorable that every time I think I might let her wander out in traffic because she can’t seem to stop defecating in my basement I look at her adorable, pink rimmed eyes and my heart literally melts.

We’ve had her since May and although we keep saying she’s getting “better” she still is an uber wiggly, un-housebroken slobbery mess.

A few weeks ago, as I was feeling sorry for myself for getting stuck with such a special dog, Jim forwarded me this.

First thought: OMG! Someone else thinks their dog might be a little re re and Googled about it!

Second thought: Shit. There’s no way Sadie is passing these tests.

Third thought: Wait, will Lula pass these tests?

For your viewing pleasure, the tests (forgive the nausea inducing filming, its hard to do this type of abuse test by yourself):

First up: the "how long does it take your dog to realize she has a blanket on her" test.

Next: the "how long does it take your dog to realize there is a treat underneath a cup" test.

Here's Lula's chance:

So, as it turns out, Sadie is definitely mentally challenged. And Lula…well the jury is still out on her. She is also a little stubborn shit so I am thinking she may have known what was going on and wanted me to feel like I had two challenged dogs because she’s mad at me because I didn’t take her to the dog park that day. Or, she’s just as challenged as Sadie.

For more great dog reading, this is a goodie. 

Dear Stall One Pooper

I see you’re a morning pooper, that’s nice. Do you think you could make sure all of your poop has gone down the drain when you flush? I too enjoy the first stall, I heard somewhere that it is the cleanest stall as most folks go to the last stall. I don’t, however, enjoy seeing that the Poop Stain Bandit has visited that stall before me. Please take more care to make sure it all goes down from now on? I know you want to rush out so no one knows it’s you but seriously, come on.

Disclaimer: I *might* be a tad uppity since I wish I was as “regular” as this gal. Forgive me.

Trying the Check In

So instead of working this afternoon, I was catching up on a very interesting blog: The Weed. Check it out if you haven’t already. The author is a gay Mormon who seems to be genuinely happily married to a straight woman with three daughters.

He is also a therapist and since I am obsessed with how folks deal with personal issues, I absolutely LOVE when his brilliance leaks out on his blog. His posts are endearing, thought provoking, intelligent and hilarious. Whether you agree with his lifestyle or see his point of view or not, you will appreciate his tolerance for others, if not learn from it.

In group therapy he has “check-ins” with his clients. Each client must say where he or she is at physically, emotionally, and spiritually. They then set a commitment for the week and follow up on his or her commitment from the week before.

I’ll share mine if you share yours:

Physically – Tired and fat. I am trying to be active…and I am succeeding, but 30 has caught up with me. Losing ten pounds is NOT nearly as easy (or fun) as it was to gain them…

Emotionally – Coming out of the shithole. The last several months have been hell on my emotional self. The most obvious of my emotional wreckage is the loss of my dear father-in-law. But I’ve had other drama and sadness going on too. I won’t get into it here but having a wonderful spouse and loving friends has helped me greatly.

Spiritually – I feel pretty aligned with the universe, but I also feel slightly disconnected. I am hopeful that as I get back into physical gear and let my mind take a break I will feel much better with regard to my spiritual self.

Commitment – I have a triathlon sprint on Saturday. I will spend this week doing an exercise a day (except Tuesday), going to bed early, and seriously monitoring my alcohol intake.  

Waking Up at Your Own Funeral

My father in law was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer last summer.  Since then Jim and I have made several trips back east to help out with the care and general morale of the new situation.  Not many people can say they got so intimately and beautifully close with their new in-laws in the year after they got married. Not many people can say they lost their new dad a year after legally gaining him.

A few weeks ago Mike’s situation got worse. He was in a lot of pain and it became apparent that the treatment was no longer working. We rushed home to be with him during what we thought would be his last hours. Two days into our stay a seemingly rejuvenated Mike woke up and asked what all the fuss was about. He was upbeat and relatively pain free and gave us the chance to spend some quality time with him.

So many of us were there as he slept those first few days. We’d take turns sitting beside him, holding his hand, administering his pain medication and speaking soothingly. In the background we were feasting on stuffed flounder made by Jim’s amazing uncle and sipping on the aged whiskey we bought Mike for father’s day. We’d laugh and tell Mike his Eagles were winning as he came to every few hours. As he gained strength and realized the severity of the situation, he called old friends, told us he loved us and laughed with us as we always do when we are together.

My mother in law said it was like Mike woke up at his own funeral. And it was. How awesome is that? Like many of us, I’ve wondered what my funeral will be like. Will it be packed? Will there be lots of fun memories being shared? Will folks be laughing as much as they are crying?

I honestly believe Mike was able to truly grasp the love and sadness, but also the state of reverie that was around him that weekend. As I said goodbye to him I gave him a letter telling him that should this be the last time I see him, I’d like him to know the reasons I am grateful for knowing him.

I won’t go into its entirety here, this is supposed to be a happy post. But I will say this: Mike has taught me that being a good person is truly one of the only things that matters in this life. Mike and Pam spent their lives being compassionate, spiritual and humble. They always gave to others as well as took care of each other. And it paid off.

Since last August Mike and Pam haven’t had to mow their lawn. They’ve rarely spent a day alone. They’ve received countless meals and baked goods from dear friends. They’ve been prayed for each and every Sunday in many different types of churches. They’ve been at the forefront of hundreds of minds.

This is not to say that the sole purpose of being a good person is so that you are taken care of in your time of need…although that is a damn good reason. I think that being a good person genuinely makes you a happy person.

Mike was a deeply spiritual man and  he was very content knowing he was going home to God. So, if all goes to plan, he is more than likely fishing or hunting or watching football in the sky…

I love you, Mike. Thanks for being in my life and raising an amazing man that I get to call my husband.