Time to Catch Up

Got back from a nice long weekend trip to Buffalo for a wedding and a visit with Mark's family. This means I have about 508 things to catch up on today. And I have so much to blog about. Until I get back on top of things, though, this post that I typed on the laptop over the weekend will have to suffice.

Delayed Posting from Buffalo: I'm writing the following on my laptop at my in-laws' house in Buffalo. Seeing as how the time and date of this post will not coincide with my trip out of state, you're probably guessing – accurately – that I wrote this and posted it later once we returned home.

That being said, I'd just like to mention that it's 2:30AM as I write this. (Note to self: Never, EVER drink half a liter of Pepsi after 6PM; there's a pretty good reason you avoid caffeine in the first place.) So I can't sleep and I've got a million thoughts running around in my head like a mouse in an exercise wheel. Mostly those thoughts are about writing. But a few of them are about how much I hate wet climates. I've spent the majority (4) of the past 7 years in Colorado and Arizona. Two very dry places. A humid day in these areas means the humidity level is about 30%. The other 3 years of the past seven have been spent in Indiana. A normal day there is 100% humidity. I really do love my alma mater. Notre Dame is a great school. It's just in one of the worst locations ever. Most of the students there pray to Our Lady that time can be altered and Father Sorin, the school's founder, will decide to stop his cross-country trek at, say, Hawaii. But, this must be old news. I'm sure I've mentioned before how much I despise the Midwest. In case you missed it, imagine one million camels and llamas spitting all at once. Raise that amount of spittle to the millionth power, and you've started to scratch the surface of my level of hatred for this particular region of the country. Note that I said region, not inhabitants of the region. I live in constant admiration of those who call the Midwest home – and I constantly wonder at the sanity of those who fondly call the Midwest home.

Now, I love my husband's family. They are great people, and I enjoy visiting with them. They just, unfortunately, fall into the latter category described above. (Well, their sanity was questionable before I realized they enjoyed living in wet, flat, gray areas. Afterall, they did produce my husband.) So for them, I'll somehow find ways to work around my incredibly flat, straight hair turning into a frizzy mane with a slight wave to it. I'll deal with the pain as I try to pry the backs of my thighs from the cushionless chair I foolishly chose for the four hours we played cards and board games. I'll manage to eat the chips that became stale after two hours exposure to the air. I'll even keep my mood cheerful when that lovely gray permacloud settles in over the Midwest and Northeast, preventing me from meeting my sun quota for the day.

And with that, I think I'm ready to go to bed. There's a lot more I have to divulge both about this trip and recent writing developments (all good), but blogging coherency levels are about to start plummeting. And I wouldn't want to subject any of you to that.

P.S. I really do admire the folk that live in the Midwest. Someone does need to inhabit that part of the country. And I thank each and every one of you daily (hourly when I’m actually in the region) that you're taking up the burden so I don't have to.