Panther

It's weird when you talk to people your own age and realize just how much younger than you your husband really is.

And by you I mean me, of course. 

Yes, he is only 4 years younger than me, nearly five, and most of the time, it is no big deal. We both think alike, we both share the same interests, the same goals, we both want the same life, etc.

It's the little things, like what grade he was in the first time he heard Korn's debut CD or not knowing who Carol Burnett is, or not remember my generation's Doctor Who (#4, played by Tom Baker) because his tenure ended one year after he was born (granted, it ended when I was 4, but given that I caught up when I was 13 and my husband 9, I think you see my point). 

The thing that reminds me the most of our age difference is the years he remembers doing things. In 1994, I was running down Comm Ave in Boston, MA listening to the first Korn album, a freshman in college. In 1994, my husband was stomping pie into the new band room carpet because his band director hated him, a freshman in high school. Again, I think you see my point.

I'm not one to talk, mainly because I'm completely anachronistic. I listen to music from the 20s to today. I know television programs that existed decades before my birth. I watch shows generally delegated to the young and/or the elderly. I have odd habits that put me, at different times, with different groups of people. It may explain why my husband and I get along so well. Sure, we don't have a vast age difference, like some people do, but we do have a little trouble communicating culturally when I have to explain Tim Conway's ad lib style on the Carol Burnett show because he's never seen it. 

Musically, my husband is just as anachronistic. He knows music from the 60s and 70s like people who lived during those times. I'm out of the loop when it comes to the music he loves, but somehow, we make it work, even if he doesn't know who Mrs. Wiggins and Mr. Tudball are. 

Moving Again...

Anybody want to help?

Well, it's that time again, when a young couple's fancy turns to saving money. They have to move out of their lovely apartment to a different apartment and now they needs to find someone to rent their old lovely apartment.

Does that sound like something that should happen every spring? I'm hoping one day the "big move" will be the permanent one. But also, I love to travel and if I had to keep moving, I don't think I would mind. I just wish I had the moola to pay someone to move the big stuff.

It's been a long few weeks (months?) since I last wrote. Nothing much has happened. How do you make nothing interesting?

I mean, the most interesting, devastating thing that's happened is the tornado(s) that ripped through Macon, causing a state of emergency, an 8pm curfew (which I have yet to adhere to) and lots of destruction. I haven't even seen it all. I haven't been on Mercer, I don't know what Monroe county looks like, I haven't seen what my families' houses might look like, it's ridiculous. The worse we got is lost power for more than 12 hours and a piece of bark on the sunroof of the car. It was a big piece of bark. The front yard of the parent house (the house my current landlords live in) looked like the trees shed their skin or something, but the street I'm moving to, Magnolia, looked like nothing happened... well, almost. 

Washington Park looked a bit messy, but not too bad and a couple of branches came off a few trees at the top of the street. Yet just a mile up, destruction, no power, no water, and looting as people took advantage of some people's lack of power. A friend of mine works for a Big Store and she had to go to work that day - no one was about and the boss didn't understand. It couldn't have been that bad, he said, because it wasn't on the news. Well, I didn't have power, I wouldn't know. All I know is that I got lots of checking on me calls that morning and I sent out a few of my own. 

It was a good day for sleeping and when we couldn't sleep anymore, we went to a friend's house, later played kickball in gale force winds trying to figure out where we would run to if a tornado touched down again, and then going back to eat, sore, exhausted, ready to go home once the lights came on. 

So yeah, nothing much has happened. Maybe I'll have something interesting to say in August when I get back from South Africa.