It's cold up here.

So somewhere in the last 30 days it became winter in the Pacific Northwest, which basically means it is very, very wet. And cold. Not freezing, but there is a distinctive nip in the air. This is not a complaint, I love fall and we were actually quite lucky through October, having a long streak of gorgeous, sunny fall days. The reason I bring all this up is that the second floor of our very old house is maybe not so well insulated, and since we don't sleep up here maybe not always habitated--meaning it can be cold. And it's where we keep the computer. So if I don't feel like getting frostbite in my fingers I might avoid getting online for days at a time. I suppose it's good that I have phone's then, so that my devoted fan base can still contact me.
This is my long-winded way of explaining my prolonged absence from the blogosphere. That and I was in CA for a week and a half, and my mom came home with us, and we've been busy doing things much more interesting and entertaining than typing. Sorry. I do intend to post pics from our trip and Halloween (our costumes where AWESOME) when I finally get 'round to uploading them.
Mostly right now I want to address current events. For the second consecutive time in a presidential campaign, I cried on election night. Four years ago I cried tears of despair, anger, and frustration-I lamented the simple fact that my baby would be five years old before we would throw off the shackles that I felt binding us. This past Tuesday I cried for very different reasons--it was like a shell had been built around me, a shell of mud, layer after layer sealing me in through the eight years of chaos and discord our nation has endured. And Tuesday night that shell cracked. Peices fell away, and I could see clearly that there really is a new path. The power felt that night, an uprising of voices held silent for so long, was overwhelming. Cars honking, people yelling as they drove, sharing celebration with strangers just because they could. That night there was a spontaneous gathering of thousands of people in the streets of Seattle, people who might never have met otherwise, needing to validate their own euphoria--being pulled together for joy and hope. Together. When was the last time we stood together? A time that didn't involve sorrow and disaster? A time that, purely and simply, made us glad to be who we are--made us proud.
I know there are those who do not share my sentiments, and to you I am sorry. I am sorry you can't see what the rest of the world sees, and am sorry you fear for yourself rather than reveling in the salvation of others. I hope that as the next four years pass, and the mood of our nation lifts, that you feel it and acknowledge the many reasons that mood sank so low to begin with. And I hope that our memories are long and that we give our country adequate time to heal before we decide we don't need fixing anymore.
And lastly, to those of you so engrossed the in Twilight series, I've spent considerable time in Port Angeles over the last 12 years. I've been into the bookstore she described as too "hippy" (it's mostly travel books, gifts and souvenieres with some comics-Troy lived in there when he was growing up), I've walked every downtown street--I've eaten in La Bella Italia. There is no area with warehouses and loading docks all in a row, no shiny boardwalk, no seedy bar right near the McDonald's. Apparently she got her info from map websites and the PA tourism board website. Kinda spoiled the illusion for me. And you wouldn't make a day trip from Forks to Seattle. It's a four-hour drive each way (with someone other than Edward driving). And while she is a good writer, very engaging and all (and I might be run out of town on a rail for saying this), upon finishing the first book I couldn't figure what the hoopla was about. I enjoyed it, but didn't feel my life had been changed and honestly, the only reason I read it in two days was because I kept trying to get to where the plot started. Not to be dismissive I did go out and get New Moon--I'm not very far into it but can see it's already more intriguing, so maybe the plotlines will improve now that characters are established.
And may I suggest to those of you drawn to the alllure of the vampire, pick up the Sookie Stackhouse series by Charlaine Harris. Fun, intense, and they get to have sex (I'm not LDS, I didn't buy Edward being able to hold back). Her writing is not as pretty as Stephanie Meyers, but the characters are great and the story makes up for it.
Wow. What an all-over the place post. If I though I could put off doing laundry any longer, I'd tell you all about our adventure in Disneyland. Or Garrett's and my birthday party. Or how horribley morning-sick I've been ;).