One of the strangest things about living in Southern California – aside from football games starting at 10 o’clock in the damn morning – is that you never really know what month it is. May, February, November, they’re all kind of the same, albeit with varying amounts of daylight.
While this is mostly awesome, it can also make things very confusing and surreal. For example, I can never remember when things happened, because odds are the sun was shining and I was wearing jeans and a t-shirt at the time, which could make it six months ago, or last week. Who the hell knows?
What got me thinking about this is, I was just reading something dated April 23 and was thinking to myself, “That’s not so long ago.” Then I looked at my desk calendar and realized its May 18! What?!?
This is important for a few reasons, mainly that (a) June is rapidly approaching, when I’ll be shelling out all kinds of dollars (lovingly) for my brother’s wedding and (b) I’m about a month, going on two months, behind on a birthday present for a friend of mine. And of course my plan to lose 15 lbs before summer is now officially shot to hell, but that was to be expected.
And naturally these realizations are coming on a Monday morning when I’m really tired and feel like a bloated corpse after too much tortilla chips and beer over the weekend.
So I’m thinking maybe I should start some kind of system so I know where I’m at, like wearing various shades of red during the “winter” months, and switching to blue for the summer. Or something. I don’t know, I haven’t thought it all the way through yet. (Again: Bloated. Corpse). But maybe you guys can give me some ideas.
Which is all a long, round-about way of saying: HA ha! I live somewhere where its nice and sunny all the time. But seriously, HELP!
Monday, May 18, 2009
Dazed and Confused: A Ramble
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9 comments:
I always use baseball and DST to know what time of year it is.
Speaking of, all these Midwest/East Coast baseball teams are lame, with their rain outs and whatnot.
And you're dead on with Guffman!
Anything is better than living in the snow belt. Don't worry about the seasons, embrace the fat. I was supposed to lose this extra 20 lbs (gained in less than a year on a 5 foot frame, not good) before I turned into a beach ball. Sadly now is the time Brennan and I are going to try and, friggin finally, have another kid. I'm gonna get real big. Life is short, enjoy it, don't worry about the seasons.
I never realized it before, but I hardly ever realize what month it is, either. Weather is a calendar!
I think that 10am football is the single best thing about living on the West Coast, though. Roll out of bed and watch, and then it's over before your whole day is shot!
It was the most surreal experience being in San Diego for Christmas a few years ago-- we cooked this big feast for everyone that couldn't go home for the holidays, opened up the patio doors while we ate, and went down to the beach afterward. I wore shorts and did cartwheels in the sand on Christmas day, and it was sooo weird!!
Lizard, as someone who may be moving to the San Diego area anytime now, you've given me a lot to think about!
Have you heard of Operation Muffin Top(ple)? Check it out http://www.twolia.com/blogs/the-catherinette-chronicles/. Also, I really recommend Michael Pollan's _In Defense of Food_. You could get the gist just by googling "Eat Food. Not too much. Mostly plants." and reading his 10/07 NYT article. I also found (I can't believe I'm sayingthis either) Montel Williams's _Living Well_ helpful.
Good luck! The most important thing about changing your diet and exercise isn't how good you'll look, it's how good you'll feel!
I'm loving the live English football at 10:00 here, and then MLS in the afternoon. Sadly next week is the final week of the league.
Oh, and my heart bleeds for you and your constant sunshine. It really does.
I go back and forth on liking or not liking 10 am football. For the most part its cool, but sometimes I really want to sleep in, but I also want to watch a game, and I hate having to choose between anything and sleep
Oh, and my wanting to lose X-number of pounds is sort of a running joke. Ain't never gonna happen. I like pasta and chocolate too much
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