Remember when I tried all those See’s candies?

(See’s Chocolate Adventure: A First-Round Report,
See’s Chocolate Report Continued: The Weird Intriguing Ones, and
See’s Chocolate Report Concluded: The More Ordinary Flavors.)

That was fun, wasn’t it? Normally the price per pound would have inhibited me from much experimenting, but it was different when I knew I’d be writing about them so it became an excuse to place the order to begin with I knew even a flavor I didn’t like would be fun to write about. And then I found there were a several I wouldn’t have expected to like (pineapple truffle, for example) that I liked VERY MUCH INDEED, which left me wishing I’d tried ALL the flavors.

So I tried to be bold again this time. I ordered enough pieces I knew I liked so that I’d be happy no matter what, and then I used a “Let’s try one of everything!” approach to anything that looked appealing. The boxes were once again heavier than I paid for: almost exactly one and a quarter pounds per pound box (including the box itself, but still).

I wouldn’t have bothered with Cashew Brittle two boxes ago: I like brittles but I wouldn’t normally think of them as a FAVORITE, and I don’t like white chocolate anywhere near as much as milk/dark. But I loved California Brittle and wished I’d ordered more, and I liked their Polar Bear Paws (also white chocolate-based), so I tried Cashew Brittle. It was fine, and definitely appealing in the box and interesting to try. But I’m not sure the combination of white chocolate and brittle was my thing. I don’t think I’d order it again, but if I were getting a mixed box for someone else I’d want to put a piece in for variety and coolness and fun.

The Almond Square reminded me of the Walnut Square from last time, but it had a saltier and more roasted flavor that I liked, along with the caramel and chocolate. I think I’d prefer it with more chocolate, though. Probably wouldn’t order again, but I’d want a single piece in an assorted box.

Apple Pie Truffle is another one I never would have tried pre-last-experiment. White chocolate is not usually my favorite, nor is apple flavoring, nor are truffles. But remember the Pineapple Truffle? MMMMmm. So I tried the Apple Pie one, and it’s uncanny how much it tastes like apple pie—and how much the TEXTURE reminds me of it. It’s like…little bits of apple peel! and little bits of crust! The spice flavor is pretty strong, and I liked it. The white chocolate didn’t seem like a dominant flavor—more for sweetness and to hold the filling. I would only want one per box, but if I were ordering in the fall I would definitely include one, and I can imagine really looking forward to it. Middle tier for the piece as it falls in my particular preferences, but upper tier for an unexpected/fun idea and an excellent execution of it.

Anne recommended the Dark Nougat to me, and since she and I are Rum Nougat twins, I trusted her advice. DELICIOUS. It’s described as having honey, roasted almond, vanilla, and coconut flavors, and it’s all chewy and delicious and coated in dark chocolate. Upper tier for me; I’d definitely order a few next time. I didn’t taste any coconut, but I may have just been overwhelmed by the almonds and dark chocolate and chewiness. Plus, I LIKE coconut, so if you don’t like coconut you might notice it way more than I did.

I also tried the Peanut Nougat. It was good, like a gourmet Snickers bar. I think at this price level, though, I would just get the Snickers and have about ten times as many of them.

I wouldn’t have been interested in the Key Lime Truffle last time: white chocolate, fruit flavoring, truffle—meh. This time I tried one, because I am reformed and adventurous! As with the Apple Pie Truffle, the coating was mostly to hold in the filling and wasn’t a strong influence on the taste. The inside was dense as you’d expect with a truffle, and the texture made me think of fillings/frostings made with powdered sugar (like the filling in a buckeye, if you’ve had those). Nice intense key lime flavor. I’d definitely order this in a mixed box for someone else because it was so cool and different. For myself, I’d probably want one in a box but it wouldn’t be a top priority.

More later, when I’ve made more progress through the box!

I’ve been waking up feeling hungover, which might not surprise you after all the gin-and-a-funnel jokes I’ve been making—but in fact I HAVEN’T been drinking, because my years working in a pharmacy solidly convinced me of the idea that tranquilizers and alcohol don’t mix well (Customer: “Can I drink alcohol with these?” Pharmacist, cheerfully: “Depends on how you feel about waking up!”), and I’d rather have the tranquilizers than the liquor, especially since liquor tends to leave me wide awake at 3:00 in the morning imagining people breaking into the house.

Besides, I don’t seem to get hungover, and in fact usually feel BETTER than usual in the morning after drinking. This was confusing until I found a list of alcohol withdrawal symptoms (which includes hangover symptoms, since that’s what a hangover mostly IS) that included positive symptoms such as good mood. That’s a nice deal I got from the genetic pool, isn’t it? Except that then when I wake up feeling lousy, I think “Dang, should’ve had more to drink last night.”

Where was I? Oh, yes, I’ve been waking up feeling lousy, but I said “feeling hungover” even though for me that would be an inaccurate description of the feeling, because I know what “feeling hungover” means in the usual parlance and wanted to use communication to communicate an idea TO YOU, rather than TO MYSELF, so I used words in their usual meaning instead of pretending that I can make words mean anything I want them to mean and then act incredulous that people are misunderstanding me. Still, I guess I could have achieved the same effect by saying “feeling lousy.” It was more that I ALSO wanted to clarify that it WASN’T that I was hungover, and so calling it “feeling hungover” right off the bat seemed a cleaner and less defensive segue into the “not actually hungover” clarification than if I’d said “feeling lousy” and then followed it by saying “BUT IT’S NOT A HANGOVER, SO SHUT UP.”

I’ve lost my place again. Okay, so I’ve been waking up feeling lousy, and then feeling kind of crummy on and off all day. Part of it is the despair caused by the issues of yesterday’s post, and let’s not even link to it, okay? I don’t want to open it up and see parts of it again, and I’d have to do that to make the link.

Part of it is Elizabeth still crying every morning before school.

Part of it is that Edward has started crying AFTER school, saying that he CAN’T GET HIS WORK DONE in class because EVERYONE IS TOO LOUD; and also we got a notice from the speech therapist at school saying he’s way behind with his speech even after being in therapy all last year; and also I got a call from the doctor yesterday saying that his second set of blood work came back and he’s still anemic, so they need to see him next week.

Part of it is that Rob’s voice is changing and his skin is looking dicey and I have a top-of-the-rollercoaster feeling about this upcoming stage of parenthood.

Part of it is that William went to the dentist for a cleaning/check and now the dentist wants to discuss (1) orthodontia, (2) speech therapy, and (3) a tonsillectomy.

Part of it is that Henry has been in a particularly careeny/uncareful stage (he’s ALWAYS like this, but even more so recently) and that, combined with his INCESSANT TALKING, is wearing on my nerves and making me feel like I can’t focus—and then I’m also continually being startled by loud crashes.

Part of it is that our dishwasher has been broken, and I finally got myself to do something about it when I found out to my delight that the dishwasher repair place HAD AN EMAIL ADDRESS FOR SERVICE—and after I emailed them, they CALLED ME BACK to make the appointment, even though (1) I hadn’t given my phone number, which means they had to go to the trouble of looking it up when they could have just hit reply, and (2) IF I CONTACT BY EMAIL, THAT MEANS I WANT TO TALK BY EMAIL. Plus, now there will be an expensive stranger in my house sometime today.

Part of it is that I’m reading Joan Didion’s? new book? and it seems like? every single sentence? is an unanswerable question? and it’s giving me a headache?

Part of it could be too much sugar and/or too much caffeine, taken in the attempt to combat the Feeling Lousy.

And of course I’m worried about my Sims family.

NONE of this is a big deal. EVERY SINGLE ITEM on this list falls into totally routine LIFE. And there is no reason I can’t cope with it, and I AM in fact coping with it. But I think it’s like how when you’re doing something big on the computer, like a big download or upload or something, and then everything else runs all sluggishly: the computer is handling it, but it’s not running at its usually brisk cheery pace. That’s how I’ve been feeling: SLUGGISH, and as if I have a large program constantly running in my background.

In college I put off most of my PE requirements until my final semester, so I had a very active final semester: racquetball, aerobics, and women’s self-defense. The women’s self-defense instructor was good, but grim. A girl from my dorm floor had been taken while out running. She was in excellent physical condition, had several years of martial arts experience, was in a public park, and had mace in her hand, but that didn’t stop anything from happening. Our instructor taught us how to slam someone in the nose, and taught us to go for the eyes, and taught us that a strike to the knee is better than a strike to the head—but she also spent a lot of time emphasizing that the important thing was to avoid being in the situation to begin with, because your chances against a prepared and unexpected opponent are…grim.

She also told us about a million times the thing about DON’T LET THEM TAKE YOU TO THE SECOND LOCATION. That is, if someone comes up to you as you’re getting into your car, puts a gun to your back, and instructs you to drive, your odds of survival plummet to nearly zero if you obey. Most attackers won’t shoot you if you run or scream, even though they say they will: instead, they’ll consider the whole thing a failed attempt and go find a new victim. And if they do shoot you when you run or scream, your odds of survival are still exponentially higher (and your odds of suffering/torture are still exponentially lower) in that parking lot than they would have been if you’d gone with them to the place they’d prepared for you.

I consider this a tip on par with “stop, drop, and roll” or “Don’t swerve to miss an animal” or “If you’re trapped in the trunk of a car, kick out the headlights”: it’s something I rehearse again and again, in the hope that in the actual situation I’d remember it. As Sam Harris says in his recent article (the first thing you’ll see when you click it is a gun pointed right at your face), the overwhelming instinct is to freeze and then comply, assuming that if you just obey everything the attacker is saying, the attacker will go away and you’ll be fine. Spoiler: you won’t be fine. The promises of being fine are only manipulation to ensure your compliance, and nothing more.

The problem is that it feels as if you have two choices: obey and be fine, or disobey and die. That’s the choice the attacker is in fact specifically telling you that you have. But your actual choices are “obey and almost certainly suffer and then die” or “try to escape and maybe not suffer and then die (but probably still suffer and die).”

Here is the part that made me immediately take a sleeping pill when I read it yesterday evening, because I knew I had some lying-awake torment ahead of me: this is true even if you have children with you. If you obey, thinking it will save the children, you are wrong: the attacker is using the children to control you, and the children’s odds for survival are exponentially improved if you ABANDON THEM WITH THE ATTACKER AND RUN FOR HELP.

Would you like a sleeping pill? My temptation after reading this was to just take the whole bottle and get it over with. On the other hand, the reason I’m sharing this horror with you is that when I thought it over I found it helped to RELIEVE some of my lying-awake frets. Because it gives me a plan and a perspective, in a situation that I fret over because there is no plan: how can I save a household or carfull of children? I likely can’t. And it does it in math terms: the child’s odds of survival with you also in the power of the attacker are slimmer than the child’s odds of survival with you running away getting help. And as Sam Harris says, if the attacker was going to kill the child, he was going to do it whether you were there or not, and probably he was going to “take his time” (sleeping pill words) and quite likely he would kill you first, leaving the child alone with him anyway but with no help on the way. Whereas if you run, you’re still leaving the child alone, but the attacker knows he doesn’t have time and has lost the power the child gave him over you, and he’s better off considering this a failed attempt and running the other direction leaving the child unharmed. It goes against every single instinct, which is why you have to be told it in advance. (Don’t swerve to avoid hitting an animal. Roll around on the flames. Put on your own oxygen mask first.)

One point Sam Harris makes that is so horrifying and yet so educational, is that if someone breaks into your house while you’re there, they are there to kill you: plain old burglars make sure the house is empty first. This was enlightening: I’d been thinking that if people broke in, what I would need to do is cooperate so that they would take the valuables and leave. I would have done exactly what Sam Harris says is so exasperating to police officers: I would have believed and obeyed the attacker, thinking it was improving my odds. Never believe and obey the attacker, is the point here. The only goal is to get away and get help.

So as I was lying awake, here are the things I was rehearsing:

1. If the attacker was going to kill someone, he was going to do it either way: it’s not a matter of obeying him to save anyone’s life. No one’s life will be saved by obeying. Someone’s life might be saved by immediate disobeying.

2. Leave the child. It exponentially improves the child’s chance of survival. Leave the child. Leave the child. (Don’t swerve to avoid hitting the cat. Don’t swerve to avoid hitting the cat.)

3. If someone breaks into the house, their carefully-thought-out goal is to kill you. Once you know that’s the goal, it changes YOUR goal.

4. The only goal is escape. The only goal is escape. The only goal is escape.

This naturally led me to the thought “What if I can’t leave the child? What if I CAN’T?” Even that was reassuring: I thought, “Well, then we will be like almost everyone else in that situation, and we will be terrified and suffer horribly, but then we will be dead and it will be over, and the world will go on about the same except there will be a couple of fundraisers and yearbook pages in our memories.”

I don’t know if this will be as reassuring to everyone as it was to me. (I also found it reassuring to think “And if my attempt didn’t work, and the child was killed and I was still alive, I could just kill myself.”) I think it’s because before, I was thinking that my success/failure lay in manipulating the situation successfully, so I needed to lie awake and practice how I’d do that. Now I’m thinking of it as any other of the other horrifying things that can happen to human beings: car crashes, deadly flu strains, tsunamis, wild animal attacks, leukemia, earthquakes, fluke accidents that shouldn’t have happened but did. There are some things you can do to prevent and/or avoid them; there are some things that improve your odds of survival if you find yourself in them anyway; but basically, it’s something that happens to some of us, and it’s horrifying and tragic but it fits in with the other horrifying and tragic things that mostly can’t be avoided or escaped from, and it’s worth taking your slim chance. WHICH IS TO DISOBEY AND ESCAPE.

(You can read the whole article here, and I do suggest it. It’s hard to do, but his tone is sensible and direct and calm, and it left me feeling the relief of “called the doctor about that lump” rather than the fear that comes from “not wanting to think about the lump, so I won’t do anything about it.”) (Also, how much do home security systems cost?)

Too much coffee + exercise + too many Mr. Goodbars + laughed about something until I got dizzy = I think I might be high.

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Teaching a child to tie his shoes is hellish. No, I’m not going to modify that with a perspective-acknowledging statement. It’s hellish. Oh, it’s part of parenting? DON’T CARE, STILL HELLISH.

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I got some very satisfying de-cluttering done today. We have a closet I use for storing gifts I bought ahead of time, gifts for the kids to bring to birthday parties, items for care packages, stuff I don’t know what else to do with, and gift bags and ribbon and stuff.

ANYWAY, the thing about buying ahead is, it doesn’t always pan out. Usually it does, but sometimes I see a great clearance on a whole bunch of mix-and-match Dwell Studio baby girl clothes when my sister-in-law is pregnant with what turns out to be a boy. Or I buy a bunch of Gymboree blankets because I get kind of obsessed with them and start collecting one from each line, figuring I can give them as baby gifts—but then I can’t make myself part with any of MY PRECIOUS my friends stop having babies before I run out of blankets. Or I buy gifts for the birthday-party shelf, but party after party goes by and none of the kids choose those gifts to bring and I start getting tired of them taking up space (the gifts, not the kids).

And here it is, the time of year to hide gifts in earnest, so I really NEED the space, but I can’t really GET RID OF this perfectly good stuff. The timing was perfect: my blog-friend Misty is reluctantly gathering auction items for a non-profit, and she says she can make an auction item out of ANYTHING. So I packed up a box, and now my problems are her problems and my gift closet is more manageable.

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The next part is going to be full of spoilers for the movie Everybody’s Fine (Netflix link) (a movie I think I have now referred to as Everyone is Fine, Everyone’s Fine, and The Kids are All Fine). It’s the last topic of the post, so if you don’t want to read the spoilers you can click away without having to squint-scroll to find the end.

Short version: I didn’t buy ANY of it, and I wondered how they got such a good cast to put on this crazy talk. (Long version continues from here.) Maybe a couple of generations ago, a dad would have needed to realize that by pushing his children too hard he was pushing them away, but a guy like Robert De Niro’s character, in his sixties living in contemporary times, would not have to be lied to by his wife about such issues as the existence of a grandchild—nor could I picture the whole family being in on such a thing AND being able to pull it off. And if his wife DID lie to him, I think she would have changed her mind on that when she was DYING. And I can’t picture four children ALL telling their dad the kinds of AMAZING WHOPPERS they come up with in this movie (they even try to lie to him about THE HEART ATTACK HE JUST HAD, as if that would be a sustainable lie after the doctor came in to talk to him), OR a dad being dim enough to continue to believe stuff he’s been allowed to assume. How could he think his son was a conductor and his daughter was a starring dancer, without ever insisting on seeing a performance? Also, I didn’t believe his doctor would have discouraged the trip OR that he would have had such immediate results from missing a single dose of medication (though it looked to me as if he was significantly overdosing on his remaining crushed tablets, so maybe that was supposed to be the reason).

Also, everybody is NOT fine, and there is some really nauseating stuff about the dead son going to join his dead mother in heaven and forgiving his dad on his way up. (YES, I cried through it, but I felt MAD about it.) And certainly everyone seemed to take the death of a family member tremendously in stride: a little pang of bittersweet memories and then everything is happy again and the dad is telling his wife’s gravestone that all the kids (including the dead one) are fine. And now that the lies are out in the open, everyone can gather around the holiday table in glowing acceptance, yay!

But I liked some of the ideas (parents learning that they have to be open to their children being ordinary; parents putting disappointments into perspective; parents finding that they can pressure their kids to the point that the kids start lying to them) enough that I think I’ll try Stanno Tutti Bene, the movie on which this movie was based. Perhaps the original did a better job at keeping things believable. (Oh, shoot, Netflix doesn’t have it.)

Also, I liked the exchange between Robert De Niro’s character and his son Robert. Also, I loved the part with his early-teens grandson Jack. Also, I liked Robert De Niro, just OVERALL, and I thought his whole performance was very touching (although that made it even harder to believe he could have brought up his children to lie to him like that). Also, I thought they got a lot of really good-quality bit-part actors. Also, I liked the dream scene where he talks to his kids around a table in the yard, and they’re children again and the various truths come out. So I’d say my primary feeling is of DISAPPOINTMENT: the movie had such potential, but failed to reach it. Which is kind of funny, since that’s one of the major themes of the movie.

I realize this is an uncharacteristic post: it’s about how to solve a hard part on a VIDEO GAME. But I spent so much time trying to solve it, and had to apologize for snapping at the children over it, and CRIED over it, and vented to Paul in a quavery voice about it, and so I am PUTTING THE INFORMATION HERE in case anyone else wants it. The last time I was this frustrated was when I wrote my Evenflo car seat post, and that’s been one of my most enduringly popular posts of ALL TIME (as well as one of the few in which I use Bad Language), so it seems to me this is one of the things the internet is FOR: searching for solutions to EXTREMELY FRUSTRATING PROBLEMS and finding what worked for other people. And so when I solve something extremely frustrating, I like to post it. I think you should, too, in case you were wondering how I thought you should live your blogging life. SHARE THE WEALTH.

So. On Sims 2. Or Sims II, if that’s what you typed into the search engine. When you want to get a kid into private school, this is how I finally solved it:

1. Save the game right after you have a Sim call the headmaster to come over for dinner. Don’t save it again until you succeed and the child has been accepted into private school. This way, every time you fail you can quit the game without saving, and then you can try again. You can call it cheating, but I’m not listening: EVERY video game my kids play lets them start a level again and again until they get it right, and The Sims is the only one that doesn’t allow a single redo.

2. Also, be prepared that your Sims will turn into crazy thwarty McThwartersons as soon as you try to accomplish this task. Mine were all “I think I’ll go to bed now!” and “I think I’ll take a shower” and “I think I’ll suddenly go work on a painting!”—even though normally they were not so strong-willed. I had to keep pausing the game CONSTANTLY, just to make sure all of them were ACTIVELY FOLLOWING MY INSTRUCTIONS. And even so, a Sim was answering the phone when I’d x’ed out that idea THREE TIMES and ALSO replaced it with a new activity, which he ignored! It was…very frustrating. (I should have just switched off free will, but I was too flustered to think of it.)

3. When the headmaster comes over (he will come over right at 5:00, and he might be any one of several different headmasters), ignore the prompt to give him a tour. Don’t give him a tour. If you WANT to give him a tour, what you do is select Entertain and then Give Tour, and then click “Go Here” in a room so your Sim will go there. The headmaster will follow. Then click the headmaster and choose “Show Room.” Then repeat with a different room. But don’t bother! It’s incredibly frustrating and takes forever, and my tour-giving Sim kept trying to wander off to take an unneeded shower or sit down for an unneeded rest.

4. Instead, have one Sim talk to him: just Talk, and select Chat, over and over. NO SCHMOOZE. Ignore the suggestion to schmooze. I know there’s a Schmooze Score, but ignore it. JUST TALK. DON’T NOBODY SCHMOOZE. The schmooze score will go up with the talking. The schmoozing is like with flirting or hugging or whatever: the score goes DOWN if you do it before there’s a relationship established. Probably you can schmooze after there has been enough talking, but I didn’t even try, I just talked and talked, and the Schmooze score went up and up.

5. The other Sim should cook a meal. You’re supposed to have that Sim select Entertain and then Call to Meal, but this is BUGGY and might not work and might in fact VANISH as an option after you select it. DON’T PANIC. Once the meal is served, have the talking Sim stop talking to the headmaster and go eat, and the headmaster will come over to the table. (I hope. I HOPE the headmaster will come over to the table. It’s glitchy, and in a couple of my attempts he wouldn’t go there no matter what, which is why you should save the game first. But in the one where I finally won, he did go to the table.) Get as many other people as possible to sit at the table too. (I don’t actually know if this is important. But it’s what I did the time I succeeded, so now it’s like a lucky rabbit foot to me.) Other sites told me not to cook chef salad so I didn’t; other sites said to cook pork chops or lobster or salmon, and my Sims always burn the lobster and salmon, so I had them do pork chops. Other sites told me to make sure the Sim doing the cooking was the best cook in the house and that the Sim was pretty high in cooking; the Sim who did the meal had 8 skill points in cooking.

6. Things that I thought might be important, but weren’t: having all the family meet the headmaster; having the child talk to and/or impress and/or schmooze the headmaster; entertaining the headmaster by letting him play chess; the tour; the schmoozing; everyone eating together; everyone being awake during the visit.

7. Things that were in fact important: having someone talk a bunch of times to the headmaster to build the relationship; feeding the headmaster a meal; knowing that this part of the game was full of bugs. I ended up with a ZERO score for the tour, and still got the child into private school with a score of 98 out of an apparently necessary 90 points (when I got 83 points, the child’s application was rejected). I also ended up with a new facial tic.

I will tell you what kind of talk sends me immediately to the kind of squirmy rage that makes me want to flail futilely at someone’s face: “Wait, it would be SIX o’clock, but now it’s FIVE o’clock, so it’ll be EASIER….wait, no, HARDER to…wait, no. Okay, it WOULD be six o’clock, but we CHANGED…”

I’m not saying I don’t start these very Daylight Savings Time discussions myself: I’m powerless not to, which makes me want to flail at my own face. And then I have to listen to Paul doing them and ALSO correcting me that “actually, it’s saving, not savingS, and actually that’s in the spring,” which he’s super-lucky hasn’t gotten him killed. PLUS, the kids get involved, so there’s the added bonus of having these discussions with people who are not understanding the concept at all.

Anyway, this has got to change. (CHANGE. See what I did there?) I’m not going through this again. Well, no, I’m going through it ONE MORE TIME, but this time I’m WRITING IT DOWN. Every time we do that stupid hour-math in the next couple of days and come to an accurate conclusion, I’m writing it down. Next year I will be able to copy this to a word-processing document, increase the font size, print it out, and hang it next to the clock. (Paul tells me I could also make a Google docs document so that ANYONE can print it out. I will work on this, so perhaps when we are looking for this post next year we will find a link to something printable.) (Ha ha, like I’ll actually follow through with that.) (I ACTUALLY DID FOLLOW THROUGH WITH THAT: Google Docs Printout.)

It will be EASIER to wake up in the morning: you will feel wakeful earlier than usual. However, the children will wake up at a clock-time one hour earlier than usual, so you will actually feel THE SAME amount of restedness, except with the unpleasant feeling of resentment and injustice at the early time on the clock. If you have a teenager, he or she may emerge an hour before you would usually expect, blinking in confusion.

It will be EASIER to go to bed at night: you will feel sleepy earlier than usual. If you have a small child, you’ll be dealing with an hour of crankiness and sleepiness as their little internal clock tells them it’s sleeping time and you tell them it isn’t.

It will be HARDER to wait for meals: you will feel hungry earlier than usual. The children will be cranky and whining for lunch, and you will say, “OMG stop whining for food, it is only TEN O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING.” Then you will sneak into the kitchen and have a little nibble because OMG HUNGRY.

It gets light EARLIER in the morning. This is kind of nice for waking up: the kids have awakened us at 4:30 instead of 5:30, but there will be less time sitting sipping coffee resentfully in the dark: soon we will be sitting sipping it resentfully in the morning light.

It gets dark EARLIER in the evening. This sucks right now, and the evening commute is depressing, but it will soon be nice for holiday light enjoyment.

People who forget to change their clocks will arrive places an hour EARLY. If you are having a party on the Sunday of a time change, you should make plans for early arrivers, just in case, and you should put a reminder of the time change on the invitations. If you have a church, it would be thoughtful to arrange to have someone there an hour early with coffee and doughnuts for anyone who otherwise is unlikely to want to wait around in the parking lot for an hour kicking themselves. If you have a store, same possibility as church, especially if you’re in a plaza with a bunch of stores: opening an hour “early” one day a year might get you some loyal and grateful customers browsing around while they wait for the rest of the stores to open.

If you want to prepare the children for the change ahead of time, don’t bother. Or if you must, you can spend the days before the change waking them up later and putting them to bed later.

See also: Spring Ahead (Daylight Saving Time)

A couple of weeks ago, Elizabeth was invited to a birthday party at someone’s house, and it turned out to be one of those ENORMOUS parties where not only the whole class but also the whole neighborhood and the whole extended family were invited, and where most of the adults stayed because they were friends too. I’d been thinking I would leave and come back after the party, but it was clear I needed to stay: there were over a hundred people there, and people were even having trouble keeping track of their OWN kids, let alone someone else’s.

I suffered, but I survived. It was three hours of hanging around with people I didn’t know but who knew each other, and I’d say it was exactly as character-building as you’d expect for an introvert. And yet even repeated exposures to such experiences are not changing me into a comfortable and eager social person, despite our culture’s unquenchable belief in the idea that exposure = total extinction—and related belief that such things REQUIRE extinction, as if being social and outgoing is the Right Way and being otherwise is Wrong. (BE YOURSELF, unless you’re not social, outgoing, beautiful, calm, thin, confident, free of interesting neuroses, and in the top 1% of careers! In which case you should be someone else!) At best I’d say that for me, exposure seems to result in the gradual development of more sophisticated coping mechanisms.

ANYWAY. My point. When I was at this party with so many people, I saw a LOT of women who looked Kind Of Familiar. And it seemed to me that some of them were finding ME Kind Of Familiar, too. And although the most likely explanation is that we’ve just seen each other in other large groups of parents, it occurred to me that it would not be SO bizarre to run into another blogger at something like this.

And so this is what I was wondering: if YOU recognized a blogger at something like this, or perhaps out shopping at Target, would you say something? I THINK I would, but I’m not sure. It would depend on so many things: How well do I know the blogger? Like, would it soon emerge embarrassingly that I barely skim her blog, or do I read her so carefully I know her pets’ names and the name of the paint color she used in her dining room? Do THEY know ME? Like, do we read each other’s blogs, or do I just read hers? Do I feel like either of us would be blowing our cover by introducing ourselves? How sure am I that that is indeed her?

What about you? If you saw a blogger out and about, would you say hi? If someone recognized you, would you want them to say hi? HAVE you ever seen a blogger out and about?

I have had a thought. Stand back.

If you do much blog reading, you’ve probably noticed people making negative remarks about their popularity and the size of their readership. “All three of my readers,” “I’m not one of the popular kids,” etc. It’s sometimes expressed as self-deprecation, or sometimes as sad wonderings about what’s wrong with them and why no one likes them, or sometimes as confessions of jealousy.

And you might think it would be just the bloggers who have only a few readers, but it’s also bloggers who have dozens but wonder why other bloggers have hundreds, and bloggers who have hundreds but wonder why other bloggers have thousands, and bloggers who have thousands but wonder why other bloggers have hundreds of thousands. It’s hard to comment on such posts. What can be said other than, “It’s not your fault per se: it’s because your blog, for whatever reason, lacks the kind of mass appeal you (and pretty much everyone else) are hoping to have”?

I have thought of a different way to think of this situation. I think the blogger/blogging relationship can be thought of like the actor/acting relationship.

There are actors I love who choose projects I can’t stand: even if I love love love a particular actor, I’m not going to watch him in a weekly zombie drama. I can want to be SISTERS with a particular actor, and yet I’m not going to watch her in that stupid movie.

And there are actors I think I can’t stand, but I’d like them tremendously if I knew them in person. I don’t like their WORK, but I’d like THEM if their work wasn’t my only way of knowing them. But their work IS my only way of knowing them.

And there are actors I think I love, but I’d cringe and try to get away from them if I knew them in person. I love their WORK, but if I knew them I’d want to cry from the wringing disappointment of who they really are. But…I DO only know their work, so I love them.

Bloggers and their blogs are a comparable situation. There are bloggers we love, who take blogging jobs we’re not interested in reading. There are bloggers we think we love, but if knew them (not just met them: some bloggers, like some actors, can be “on” in short-term meeting situations) we wouldn’t love them anymore, because what we love is not them but their BLOGS. There are people we know and love in person, but we can barely stand to skim their blogs. And there are bloggers we think we can’t stand, but it’s really that we don’t want to read their writing and/or what they choose to write about—which is quite a different thing from not liking THE PEOPLE. (Of course we might also dislike the people, if we knew them. What I mean is that the blog alone is not sufficient information for a conclusion.)

I think the feeling has been that if the blog is liked, the person is liked—and that therefore if the blog is not liked, the person is not liked. “Why don’t people like my blog?” becomes “Why don’t people like me?” Thinking of it in a different way (i.e., that the blog is the person’s work/hobby, just as acting can be a person’s work/hobby) does not automatically solve the problem: most bloggers, like most actors, would of course still prefer that their work be admired, and by as large an audience as possible. But rejection of the work/blog doesn’t have to be interpreted as rejection of the person.

Some hobbies (acting, blogging) require an audience. Some (writing in a journal, running, scrapbooking, stamp-collecting) don’t. Some (art, music, dance) can go either way, depending on what the person participating in the hobby wants. The audience can’t be forced into existence (or complained into existence, or wanted into existence), so the trick is to find the natural fits. There are some things we like to do, and other people like to watch us do them. Yay! There are some things we like to do, and no audience is required. Yay! There are some things we like to do, and no one wants to watch us but we don’t mind and we can happily do them without an audience. Yay!

And then there is the category of things we like to do, but only if we have an audience of a certain size—and our audience is not large enough, and so we’re miserable and it makes us feel rejected and unliked. Non-yay. I think those are good hobbies to eliminate, to leave more room to focus on the others. (This is why I no longer model, act, sing for an audience, or try out for football.)

My aunt was visiting and we were having a wonderful time talking and eating hot fudge sundaes and admiring the things she and my mom bought on shopping trips, so it was a really fun week and now my mom and I have post-holiday-blues-like feelings. I’ve been consoling myself with hour upon hour of a game called Sonny, and I REALLY cannot explain to you why I am playing it. I mean, I CAN: it was Henry’s fault, because he was DESPERATE to play it but couldn’t figure it out, and so I started helping, and then somehow it was two hours later and I’d been playing a SHOOTING game all that time.

I don’t think of myself as LIKING shooting games, but Paul tells me it’s because I think of them all as being First-Person Shooter games, which I hate because I hate scared-anticipation and I hate being startled and I don’t think quickly. When in fact some games are Turn-Taking games like Sonny, where you can take your time and figure out your move, and then when you’re all set you say go, and then it waits patiently for your next move. Plus, it’s not gory or gross. Still, there’s no getting around the part where I’m aiming guns, shooting them, and saying “DARN it!” when they don’t do enough damage.

As soon as Rob got home, Henry and I made HIM play it TOO, because we kept getting really stuck and not knowing what was going on (now we have a Striker’s Helm, but how do we get it out of our inventory so we can use it? and what’s a “helm” when we are not steering any ships?), and we needed someone else to play it so we could ask questions. Now Rob, Paul, Henry, and I are ALL hooked on it.

Speaking of out of character, I also watched and loved an action movie: Red (Netflix link). We watched it with my aunt one evening, and I was all “I don’t know about this,” but then I LOVED it. Bruce Willis plays this totally charming, deadly ex-CIA agent. I’m pretty sure the director just had him look at the camera with a wry, amused, affectionate, sidelong-glance tough-guy expression, and put a green screen behind him so he could put that expression in every single scene, and I think I speak for all the ladies in our group when I say IT WORKED.

There was plenty of shooting and action, but nothing gory. And although it got a little scary at the peak of the action, MOST of the action was broken up with humor. And almost all the characters were, like, baby boomers coming out of retirement to kick some mid-thirties next-generation butt, so this is a good movie to watch with your parents. And Helen Mirren is in it, and Morgan Freeman, and John Malkovich playing on the funny/endearing end of his creepy/scary/crazy spectrum. Plus there’s Karl Urban for the ladies who prefer a man in his 30s, though it was Bruce Willis who had all three of us looking up his age on Wikipedia to see if it was creepy for us to like him. AND, the female romantic interest is Mary-Louise Parker, who is only a decade younger than Bruce Willis and only LOOKS young enough to be his daughter, so that’s kind of awesome too!

And I’m reading Divergent, but in my last reading session something icky and scary happened to one of the characters, and now I feel nervous that that’s going to escalate.

Yesterday Rob and I had an argument in the car that went extremely well but was nevertheless very unpleasant. He wanted to discuss his theories that no one should be “against” anyone else, and that no one should make any laws that affect anyone else, and that if you can’t prove something is untrue you have to treat it exactly as if it’s true. I discussed these topics with him for over 30 minutes and didn’t lose my cool AT ALL, even when I was making good/calm points and asking good/calm questions, and all he was doing was repeating his few points over and over in an increasingly upset voice and implying he considered me too stupid to follow the obvious logic.

So I should have gone home feeling good about my performance in this first of what will be many, many chances to exercise patience and restraint and the kindness that comes from having a more developed frontal lobe. One of my big worries about the teenage years is that I will lose my temper in a near-constant fashion, because I really do hate Immature Philosophizing—and I DIDN’T lose my temper. But instead of feeling cheered by this, I went home feeling logy and full of ennui. Because it turns out that even when I handled a discussion very well, I STILL hate Immature Philosophizing and having arguments with people. I felt so weary at the idea of the years and years of it I have ahead of me as the kids grow up.

I also felt logy/ennui/weary at the idea that they might not outgrow the ideas I consider immature. It is upsetting that there is so little I can do to control the children’s brains so that they will grow up thinking thoughts I agree with. I already knew this was the case going in to this project, but it’s bad for morale to be imagining what life could be like when he comes home with his family for Christmas and is still talking this way. Maybe all five of the kids will sit around talking about how much better the world would be if they ran it, and how stupid Paul and I are for not agreeing with them. Then we’ll all sit around grimly unwrapping our presents and feeling dissatisfied with each other.

Also, he’s outgrowing his pants so I went to my bins to get the next size up and found there WAS NO NEXT SIZE UP. I was going to have to buy him MEN’S sizes. Then I found that actually it’s only The Children’s Place that doesn’t have size 16, but Old Navy and Target still do, so we have one more size to go. But after THAT, it’s the MEN’S department!