Being a Normal, a.k.a. Cheryl Maritorious

This morning I was contemplating (ok, actually I was 'feeling bothered by', not just 'contemplating') how terribly average I am. While doing some research on cameras online, I read recent posts on a few blogs I like to keep up with, and this is when I started comparing my average life to the oh-so-interesting lives of others in the world.

In the summer of 2004, before Bret and I started dating but after I had become quite interested in him (I don't know if italics stresses the word "quite" enough here...imagine the sort of interest where it literally seems like the person garnering your attention has a spotlight on them and anyone else in the room is somewhat fuzzy and out of focus - the sort of interest where you might be talking to someone else in the group, but the sound of that certain person's voice from another conversation he's having has your attention as well, and you might be in the middle of a sentence and then you say a word or finish your sentence completely out of context, because what you said actually tied into his conversation, not yours...and the worst part is, you don't actually know it, because you weren't listening to yourself, you were listening to him, and your only clue that something is out of place is the strange look you're getting from the person who thought you were talking to them (silly person - I may LOOK like I'm talking to you, but you need to understand that HE is in the same room with you, and therefore, unfortunately, I am focused on him. and sadly, let's be honest, even if HE wasn't here, I'd still be thinking about him, and so I probably wouldn't have been worth much in our conversation anyway!)... I would like to take this opportunity to apologize to anyone who talked to or attempted to talk to me between May 2004 and October 2004; the months when my attention was increasingly distracted by Bret, pre-dating. Further, I would like to take this opportunity to apologize to anyone who tried to talk to me about anything other than me between November 2004 and ....hmm....let's say June 2005, the months when I was 100% wrapped up in the newness of dating Bret (after June it dropped down to at least 95%). Finally, I would like to take this opportunity to apologize to anyone who wanted to talk about something besides my wedding plans & the execution thereof between March 2007 and August 2007. WAIT! I should also apologize to anyone it may concern for conversations to date and future conversations that you may not have wanted to have forced upon you about my thoughts on the adorable-ness of Bret as the father of my child(ren). Wow. One wonders if I should re-title this post "an ode to Bret". But really, that aside was more about my focus on him, so "I think Bret is snazzy" would probably be a more appropriate title. Now, what was I saying??)

So, before we were dating, but after I had identified a casual (HA!) inclination toward him, we were chatting one evening at Paul & Mandy's after bible study had ended and folks were milling about, socializing. I don't remember the exact substance of the conversation, but I do remember when Bret said "...that's because you're a Normal". The reason I don't remember the exact substance of the conversation is because this is what was going on in my head while we were talking: He's talking to me, I'm talking to him, WE are having a CONVERSATION! We, us, him and I, together, talking together. To each other. No one else is involved. Just me carrying on a conversation with him, which I assume makes sense because he's not giving me any strange looks. He's so interesting! Very grounded. Really honest about himself and his thoughts/opinions. And humble! (fade out thoughts to put conversation first for a while, thoughts in the background, until...) Wow. I really like his laugh. And that smile! And those teeth! I am such a sucker for nice teeth and a good smile. I think I might start hyperventilating and giggling. Holy cow, am I 13?? This is ridiculous. He's talking to you too, and not leaving to talk to someone else, so just calm down, pay attention to the conversation, and stop getting distracted by the fact that you like him so much!

Umm...what was I saying earlier about this post being re-named?

Ok, so the POINT is that Bret called me a Normal. And I was really bothered by this, because it sounded like a bad thing, and the last thing I wanted was for him to think I was...cringe...normal. No! Think I'm interesting! Think I'm fascinating! Think I have a spotlight on me and everyone else is fuzzy!

And that conversation came back to me this morning when I was feeling bothered about how average I am. I found out later that Bret didn't mean "Normal" as a bad thing, necessarily...he meant that I had played life by the rules, stayed in the mainstream, and that where I had ended up was a reflection of that. And that had both positive and negative aspects. He never considered himself a "Normal", and where he ended up in life reflected that as well, again with positive and negative aspects. And people often see many of the positive aspects of the other way of being as better than the positive aspects of how you are; e.g. a "Normal" like me sees the path of least resistance that I've often chosen (college right out of high school, 40 hr a week corporate America job right out of college) as really boring compared to non-Normals that take risks, don't play it safe, and don't follow the herd.

Here's the thing that I'm thinking about now, though, at the end of the day: when I compare my average life to other lives, that's when I'm more likely to feel discontent. And sometimes that can be a catalyst to get out of a rut, which is a good thing. But mostly, I think I'm probably the kind of person who's okay with being a "Normal". If I wanted risks, etc, I would probably have made choices in my life that would reflect that. But really, I like stability, I like safety, and mostly if I take a risk there's some sort of safety net involved. So I started off the day discontented with being average, and I'm sure will feel that way again many many times in the future, but I'm ending the day at peace with my "Normal-ness".


Post script:

Monday: today's A Word A Day email was the word "maritorious", an adjective meaning 'excessively fond of one's husband'. I actually laughed out loud at my computer (and further cemented what I'm sure is a work cubicle farm reputation for being odd).

Domesticated

Lately I've had the urge to bake things. First it was a zucchini quiche that I was introduced to when I lived in California. It's topped with tomatoes. I don't like zucchini and I don't like tomatoes but oh how I like this zucchini quiche! And then, because I had zucchini on the mind, I made zucchini bread (what was I saying about not liking zucchini? But really - it's bread, so that makes it automatically better. It's like banana bread. I don't like bananas, but I can sure eat banana bread!). My mom assumed that someone had given me zucchini from their garden, what with my zucchini-fest. But then she recalled that it wasn't in season, and said I must be nesting. Bret said "if this is nesting, I hate to see what you're like in 3 more months!" I said "maybe I'm getting it out of my system now and in 3 months the house will be a mess and I'll never cook dinner". Bret said "Good! I'll get to have frozen pizza more!" (We have an ongoing discussion about frozen pizza. He thinks it's one of the best dinner ideas ever - good (enough), cheap, and doesn't create dinner dishes. I contend that it's not "real" food. He generally feels that "real" food is a lot of effort and a lot of dishes, so it's a trade off - frozen pizza doesn't taste as good, but it's simpler. And the debate goes on!)

Most recently, I saw these and these on the Bakerella blog, and thought I'd give them a try. (Incidentally, Laura commented recently on how amused she was at my usage (some might say excessive usage) of embedded links in blog posts. I am inordinately proud of myself for figuring out how to do them (ok, all I had to do was Google it...but that took at least a little thought, didn't it??) and so I use plan to shamelessly continue using them whenever I can.)

So anyway, I saw these on the Bakerella blog (ha! got to do the embedded link thing again!) and mine didn't turn out anywhere near as cute as the example pictures. See proof below:


The picture's blurry, but trust me, it actually helps the presentation. Both my Grandma & Laura said some of them looked "creepy", and a couple people asked what the yellow round ones were supposed to be (um, clearly they're chicks!) and if the white round ones were snowmen (apparently the orange beak looks like a carrot nose). Hmph! On behalf of the chicks, I was offended. Each of them was near & dear to my heart (except the ones that I did in assembly line fashion at the end when we were late and supposed to have left for mom & dad's to celebrate Easter a half hour before). The good news is, at least everyone said they tasted good!

I made chocolate & funfetti cake mixes, so with the other half of each flavor I made this:
I think I have a long way to go before I can come close to rivaling the chocolate chip cookies Mom made for one of my sisters to take as a treat to share for her birthday when they were in grade school. Mom made oval shaped, extra large cookes, and piped each classmate's name on a cookie in chocolate icing. And if I had a picture, I could have done an embedded link to show you. Darn it. Lost opportunity.

Luck o' the pregnant!

This year I did 4 different NCAA brackets for various pools/bets. And there's gotta be something about being pregnant that's making me lucky because I won 3 and got 2nd place in the 4th! My winnings are something like $200 total in cash, 1 Starbucks beverage, and 1 breakfast. The breakfast is particularly notable because that's the bet with my dad, and for years now I haven't been able to best him at March Madness. He actually (if you can believe this) puts studied thought into his bracket; considering stats of players, how their seasons have gone so far, etc etc. What?? What kind of strategy is that?? Obviously, my formula of considering the seeding of the school in the tournament, whether I like the school name, and then throwing in a few upsets here and there for some added interest, is clearly the approach to take to preparing one's bracket. I mean, it's worked for me at least this once, right?

The best part is, that even in past years when I've lost the bet with my dad, he generously refrains from gloating about his victory, and he even pays the bill for the breakfast I owe him. I wish I could say that I'm not going to gloat about my victory this year, but I feel like it might just be too tempting not to. At least a little. I do plan to pay for breakfast, though - after all, I can certainly be magnanimous with my fabulously won earnings (uh oh, the gloating is starting already)!

What's in my head lately

Yesterday I found out that my fabulous friend Lindsey (who lives way too far away) is having a baby girl! I also saw from one of her mom's comments on her post that one of their baby name possibilities is the same as one of the names on our shortlist! My first thought: "uh oh!" My second thought "well it's not like the kids would be together all the time, if we do both pick the same name..." My third thought "well, maybe that makes it easy to rule out that name possibility!"




Then I started thinking about the other girl names on our shortlist, one of which is already currently in use by my cute niece Anna.






Side note: I have another cute niece Miriam, who also requires acknowledgement!



(I am an equal opportunity aunt.)

So I'm thinking about how 'Anna' is already in use, and whether it would be weird (spelled right the first time, thanks Paul!) if we used 'Anna' too...and in one way, it would be a nice little tradition, because I also have the same name as a cousin of mine. "Big" Cheril is something like 7 years older than me, and 7 inches shorter than me. Oh yes, there was all sorts of ironic fun growing up when people would comment on how "Little Cheryl" (me) was actually bigger than "Big Cheril". Crazy, crazy ironic fun. So that's kind of a fun tradition possibility (at least it is in my head...I wonder how Paul & Mandy and Anna would feel about it? I wonder how long it'll be before Mandy reads this blog post? They're getting ready to move to Hawaii...she's probably busy packing...I wonder if I could get away with naming my kid Anna and maybe they wouldn't notice until they were back living in Washington? Hmmm...)

And then I realized that there's a good chance (ok, well, at least 50%) that I'm not even having a girl! Bret is abso-smurfly positive we're having a boy. And that brings me to...

My sisters (also cute in their own right) are trying out "Papa Bret" as a nickname for Bretimus Maximus (Christina's old nickname for Bret, due to his fondness for the movie Gladiator).
Every time they say it, I picture Bret in white stretch pants and a blue shirt, a la Papa Smurf.

Except that when I found that picture online, it reminded me that while all the other smurfs wore white pants, Papa Smurf wore red pants. So now I have to start picturing Bret in red pants. Maybe some red leather pants...

And last but not least, I have become a fan of thepioneerwoman.com, along with a million other people. I've seen her site mentioned by a few people, so I finally went there on Wednesday night and got sucked in for 2 hours reading about how she met her husband. And then Bret asked me what I was so engrossed in and I proceeded to tell him all about it - and then he got a look on his face that clearly said "I think you're a little too into this" and I had to explain that basically, it's like reading a book...and it's like when I got sucked into the Twilight series, and I really am quite normal don't worry babe, I'm not going to want to move to a cattle ranch, just like I don't want either of us to become vampires. See? Still have my hold on reality (for now)!