First Sign of Summer

The college boys start showing up at the gym.

Apparently scruffy beards are in.

And it works.

Willing Suspension of Disbelief

So, I've been sucked into the world of 'Outlander'.  Both the T.V. show and the books. You think the Internet is a time vampire? I've lost three weeks of my life.

It started when I made the mistake of watching the first episode of the T.V. series.  Then I binge watched the next 10 over the next day and a half.  Why only 11? Because the rest of the season had yet to be aired.  Shit. So I watched the first 11 again.  I had to watch them in the bedroom because they were highly inappropriate.  The boys had no regard and were continually interrupting with "What's for dinner";  "There's no milk"; "We need to go to school". God, it's just Me Me Me with those two.  John would wander in occasionally and say, "Are you watching that again? Do I need to be worried about you?" Perhaps. My meds may help with depression and anxiety but they couldn't touch the brilliant case of OCD I was developing.  I was also getting slightly peeved that John wasn't Scottish. Or wonderfully and beautifully perfect in the way only a fictitious man can be. Sheez.

During this first week I kept telling myself that I couldn't start reading the books.  There were 8 books in the series and most were over 1000 pages.  I still haven't finished my Book Challenge so there was no way I could start reading 8000 pages, which would surely be binge-read, until I'd finished the Challenge.  So I'd call my friend Tina, who'd read them all, and brought up reasons why I thought the books wouldn't be that good and she, being the supporting friend that she was, assured me that oh, no the books were even better.  Shit.

So I started the books on the second week.  Upon further analysis, I discovered that the first book would count as my "Book with a Love Triangle". Cool!  The second, as "Book recommended by a Friend".  Even better.  Let's see........I needed to come up with a replacement for "Book you were supposed to read in High School but didn't" because I read all the books I was assigned lest I get in trouble.  I know, pathetic, but none the less. Since you're really not supposed to change the categories, I'd need to replace it with something really tough.  I chose "Book with more than 1000 pages". Hey, would you look at that, Outlander book 3 has 1072 pages.  And finally, Book 4 would be my "Book based solely on it's Cover" and it was.  The cover read 'Outlander book 4' and bingo, I wanted to read it.  John spent the next two week saying, "Are you still reading those? Do I need to be worried about you?" Ha Ha Ha, you've no idea.

If you're unfamiliar with the books/show.  They take place in Scotland at the end of WWII but take place mainly 200 years previously.  Claire, our heroine, is married to Frank, a tool, but stumbles upon a mini-Stone Henge and is transported 200 years into the past.  If you read or watch Sci-Fi or Fantasy, then I'm sure you have a healthy Willing Suspension of Disbelief.  Harry's a wizard? The wardrobe leads to Narnia, He can fly? I'm with ya, proceed.  So I didn't so much as blink at the magic stones and the trip to the past. She's wandering the Scottish countryside looking for plants and falls into the 18 century and thrust into the arms of a man who is wonderfully and beautifully perfect in the way only a fictitious man can be? Naturally.  Carry on, please....

I thoroughly enjoyed the books. They are quite good.  However, even my healthy WSofD faltered over a few points.  Time travel? No problem.  She killed a wolf with her bare hands and the corner of a stone building.  No way.  I've seen wolves.  They're big and she weighs 110 pounds soaking wet. He killed a bear with a knife? Again, bullshit. If you stab a bear with a knife, he may drop his cigarettes but he will still kill you.  Okay, minor points, I know but still would I really think less of my Hunka-Hunka Jamie if he hadn't killed the bear? No. If he'd run screaming into the woods, I'd have thought him completely sensible.

Don't even get me started on the fact that she plays Top Chef - Outlander Edition and wins every time.  Your baskets include a bag of barley, some wood garlic and a goat. Go make dinner. We'd all starve. I mean, after we ate the goat but I'm pretty sure I was supposed to use the goat for milk or some such nonsense. And we'd all die nude because who the hell knows how to work a loom? Sure I could knit a blanket but only if the wool came off the sheep in skeins.

All of that aside, my biggest issue was the fact that these people kept finding each other.  Across time, across entire countries and across oceans.  She gets off a carriage in 18th century Edinburgh, walks three blocks and finds his shop? I couldn't find BevMo without Google Maps. It was in this weird spot behind Home Depot, I mean, who puts a store there, really?  Claire and Jamie got separated in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean and stumble over each other on a beach in the Caribbean? Really? John and I once got separated at the Phoenix Zoo and we never did find each other. I took one kid to the bathroom while he and the other kid waited.  After a hour and a half, I gave up and went to the car. Luckily he was there. Otherwise I'd have been filing Divorce in Absentia papers.
"Where'd you go?"
"Just get in the car."
Now we don't go to the grocery store without our phones.
"Where are you?"
"Over in Produce"
"I was just there!"
Modern man clearly lacks some type of internally compass that draws us unknowingly to our soul mates.  All we have are speed dating and Christian Mingle.  Poor substitutes.

So I blazed through the first 4 books and cheeringly checked them off my Book Challenge list.  I told myself that I had to read 2 B.C. books before I could read another Outlander book.  Seemed fair, right? After staring at the first page of Driving Miss Daisy (Pulitzer Prize Winner) for 7 minutes, I said, "Fuck it" and started reading Outlander #5.  It's only May. I've got plenty of time to finish that silly challenge!

Some animals eat their young. I know why.

So I'm sitting on the couch reading and Sam comes over and sits next to me with his head on my shoulder and his hand on my stomach.  Sweet, right?  Then he moves his had a couple of times and says, "Oh, he's kicking. This one's going to be a soccer player."

Me, "OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!"
Sam, <snickering> "I'm Joking!"
Me, "You're lucky I'm just kicking you out of the room and not out of the house!"
Sam, <still laughing> "I was joking!!"
Me, "GET OUT!"
Sam, trots down the hall giggling.

I told John and he, of course, thought it was hilarious.

Me, "You need to talk to him.  He can't go around saying that to people."
John, "hahahahahahahah"
Me, "Oh, sure, it's all fun and games until someone kicks the shit out of him."

Rotten kid.

The Truth is Out There; It's just too Boring to Remember

Driving home from school:

Tom, "Did you know the CDC has a Zombie Protocol?"
Me, <snort> "No, it doesn't."
Tom, "Yes, it does.  Ms. Science Teacher told us."
Me, "No, she didn't" <I've got your back Ms. Science Teacher.>
Tom, " Yeah, they have this whole system in place."
Me, "Did she say that the CDC has a protocol in place to handle a mass pandemic?"
Tom, "Yeah! Like a zombie virus!"
Me, "But really just to keep everyone from dying, not to deal with people who die and come back."
Tom, "Yeah! And there are all these sleeper cells, that no one knows about."
Me, "You mean, people to handle the pandemic?"
Tom, "Yeah! These regular people who do normal jobs but are secretly training to take over."
Me, "Orrrr, medical and law enforcement professionals that have been trained to handle the sick and keep the looting to a minimum?"
Tom, "Yeah, but nobody know who they are and they'll just show up and take over everything."
Me, "Because martial law would be declared so they would be in charge until things get back to normal?"
Tom, "Yeah, it's so cool!"
Me, "I guess so."


I guess I shouldn't be too upset, he did learn the meaning of 'protocol'.

The difference between Men and Women

On Saturday mornings, John and I go to Starbucks and do the Wall Street Journal Saturday Puzzle.   Unless it's a cryptic.  If it's a cryptic, we do the Wall Street Journal Friday Crossword Puzzle.  Cryptic puzzles are fuckers. The boys stay home and play video games.

This Saturday morning, it was 60 degrees out. John was dressed in a t-shirt , shorts and shower sandals.  I was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, a wool sweater, converse sneakers and socks.

Anyone would wonder if we were going to the same Starbucks.