weather semantics

I'm just going to throw this out there. You can take it or leave it.

I don't believe in global warming. I just don't. I think its dumb, especially considering that Houston is getting snowed on and it's 37 degrees in Austin today. I feel sorry for those Greenpeace volunteers on Congress. Today is a hard sell for global warming.

Climate change is a different matter. I do believe in climate change. The climate changes every day. It has been changing for 6+ million years. If you think about it, hasn't every generation thought there was catastrophic climate change?

Dust Bowl, Floods, Hurricanes, harsh winters, mild winters, harsh summers, mild summers these are not new things. In fact, these are old things that reoccur in cyclical patterns, and have since the beginning of the planet. Just ask Littlefoot.

The term global warming has been largely replaced with climate change. Why? Because climate change is easier to sell. It really covers all the bases. Global warming was too restrictive to be correct.

I'm sure climate change is happening. I'm sure patterns are changing from 20 even 50 years ago. But I'm almost just as sure that they will change back.

So should we all buy hybrids? Should I start eating local? Should I shop with re-usable bags?

Sure. Go ahead. Just be sure you dress for the weather.

911

I'm going to recount the happenings of the last 35 minutes. I hope you find them as totally ridiculous as I do now.

So, as I approached my apartment building after being gone since 8 am, I heard a smoke alarm going off. I imagined someone had burned their tater tots and/or mozzerela stiks because they were distracted by a re-run of Scrubs. I actually thought that.

As I open my door I realize the ear-piercing, vomit inducing sound is coming from my smoke alarm. In my apartment. With all my stuff. And where I need to go to sleep.

I instantly assume everything in my apartment is on fire or about to spontaneously combust at any second. After I secure all flammables, I call the Gables Grandview answering service. Donna answers the phone. I have talked to Donna 3 different times about either A.) drunken "dj's spinnin" at the pool B.) about my smoke alarm.

She informs me she will call JT and he will call me back. I say "Thanks" but really I want to somehow find a way that this is Donna's fault, just so I can yell.

I pace outside my apartment. I'm assuming no one will call me back and that my smoke alarm will go off for eternity. I'm planning alternate sleeping arrangements. I'm texting and calling like a maniac. I'm getting ready to go inside and grab blankets to camp in my car when JT calls. I figured it had at least been 30 minutes since I called. It had been 9.

On this particular call JT was either stoned off his ass, asleep, or super pissed that Donna had called him and, in turn, super pissed that I couldn't figure this out on my own.

He let me know I could either take it off the wall and take out the batteries or he could come do it for me, if I couldn't figure it out. Now, my first instinct was to rip it out of the wall--but I decided that I would be fined by the fire department and possibly jailed if I did that. So I had called Donna.

But, now that I had JT's permission, I was on it. I ripped those suckers out of the wall immediately. Silence. For 2 seconds. Then it started again. How can this be? Am I on candid camera? Am I being haunted? Is Dad trying to reach me from beyond? Is this happening to save me from a fire that will happen tonight? Am I crazy? (These are all the actual thoughts that I had.)

I run around my apartment with the torn smoke alarm in my hand, wires dangling. I'm looking at the ceiling, I'm putting my ear up to the sprinklers in case they too have noise making devices, I'm putting my head in closets, I'm freaking out. I call JT. I tell him I ripped both of them out of the ceiling and that the sound is still happening. This is what happens next:

JT: Did you take the batteries out?

Alix: I RIPPED THEM OUT OF THE WALL. HOW MANY ARE THEREEEE? I CAN'T TELL WHERE THE SOUND IS COMING FROM, IT'S GETTING LOUDER!

JT: Is the sound coming from your hand?

Alix: Yes. I have to go. Thanks.

In my totally irrational panic, I had neglected to take the batteries out of the actual smoke alarm. I was running around my apartment like a maniac trying to locate this continuing screech and that was coming from the smoke alarm in my hand.

It is funny what the unexpected can do to me. I knew the solution to the problem as soon as I walked in the door but I didn't trust myself enough to just do it. I knew, rationally, that the smoke alarm would go off and I would sleep in my own house. I knew the batteries were in the smoke alarm itself but panic clouded my logic.

It's the power of irrational behavior. It's what makes people act, do, and say things they don't even understand.

It's why I put my ear to a sprinkler.

bank robbers are dumb

I went to Wells Fargo today to take my dad's name off our joint account. I mean, it had to happen sometime.

Anywho, I chatted it up with the banker dude and I asked him about the robbery that happened at that location 2 weeks ago.

He told me all about the guy that came in with guns and made people lay down and was all dramatic about it, like in the movies. He told me this guy was super rude (I wouldn't expect a robber to be nice--but I guess most robbers just slip a note) and didn't even try to cover his face.

He told me the cops knew it was a robber who had hit 17 Houston banks in the last year. This robbery was his first in Austin.

And this is where I get confused. According to Snapped, Deadly Women, Lock Up Raw, Law & Order, NYPD, Tru Crime, The First 48, and Crime 360 there is no way you get away with crime. Your DNA will be somewhere and you're done. Game over.

I do not understand how a man with no mask robs 18 banks in Texas and is able to go spend that money on cheeseburgers and hookers. I don't understand. Shouldn't his picture be everywhere? Why aren't Mariska Hartigay and Ice Cube on the case? Where are the crime scene experts and fancy labs? I'm sure a hair fell off his head in there, why dont' they have his DNA?

This dude doesn't work. He robs people that do and, apparantly, gets away with it.

Crime pays.

my body is failing

So, last week I had the black death. I'm mostly serious. I had Strep and a respiratory infection. I had fever on and off for 3 days, and, at one point decided I was probably going to die on my couch. Dramatic? For sure.

Yesterday, just as I am back at 100%, I get a headache then the twinges of a sore throat begin again. Today, its worse. I have been monitoring my progress all day and I think it is fair to say that my immune system sucks. Big time.

I can't live this way.

It's all over for me.

*cough, cough* "It's the black lung pa."

meet you in the middle

I'm a Big Sister with Big Brothers Big Sisters. I meet with my 'little' once a week for an hour at her school. Today, I went for my weekly meeting and as I stood outside the classroom where I normally pick her up, her teacher walked up to me pretty aggressively.

She then launched into a rant about how my 'little' was stealing Sharpies from her and how my 'little' was a total disruption and a thief and a waste of my time.

Just then, my 'little' walked toward the classroom. The teacher then went inside the classroom, made a 'shoo' hand motion toward my 'little', and slammed the door.

Sigh.

I went to the library with my 'little' and she told me her half of the story, which, was a far cry from the teacher's story. In fact, it was the total opposite. Shocking.

The truth, I'm sure, is somewhere in the middle. I'm sure my little wasn't trying to steal Sharpies. I'm sure the teacher thought she was because of her past behavior. I'm sure that in one year no one will care about those Sharpies.

I'm also sure that pretty much everything I've heard in the past week -at work, at home, volunteering, even in my own head-is only one version of the truth. The real truth always seems to be buried under pride, miscommunications, fear, and struggle. The real truth is only available to those who want to listen and understand.

I wonder just how many conflicts and hurt feelings, how many misunderstandings and nights of anxiety could be allayed if everyone put others first, themselves second, and took just one minute to understand and trust.

ill smother you

I've always secretly prided myself on not needing praise, attention, cuddles, constant affirmation, or even a lot of time in relationships. I've always been the half of relationships that was cautious and easily smotherable (that's a word, I just decided.) My favorite phrases have been "I'm just really busy" and "Let's take a break", to name a few.

This week I realized I just never really cared about having any of those things before not necessarily because of me, but because of the people that were providing that attention. I just didn't need those affectionate (and time-consuming) relationships with people I knew, deep down, didn't have a place in my future.

Now that I find myself needing those things, I realize that it is because I need those things to make a future. I need those things because I can see a future. And that's scary and unbelievably wonderful all at the same time.

how old am i?

In 3rd grade I spent every recess digging a hole under an awning on the side of the school building. I dug that hole so deep that I could see under the foundation of the school, better yet, my little digging spot was secluded from everyone else. I wouldn't get picked last to play soccer, I wouldn't have my friends push me into boys, and no one would tease me about my clothes. I really liked my spot under that awning.

In May of 2008 I went back to that school and took a picture of my digging spot. It looks pretty much the same minus the huge hole. I feel pretty much the same as I did when I was in 3rd grade. I still think my clothes are awkward and I still sweat everytime I think I might get picked last. Although, the boy issue seems to have been resolved. Not having a mandated recess time eliminated that fear.

I thought, I guess, that when you grew up you knew how to do stuff and were automatically cool. I thought when I was an adult life would be easier--I wouldn't have to hide under an awning anymore. The surprise is really that I'm the same as I was when I was 7 only with responsibilites. The surprise was that at age 24, making a presentation to 200 lawyers, feeling sweaty and awkward, I would think about my digging spot and want it back.