It is, like, so hot out here!

I have my monthly OB appointment this morning. I don't know why, but I get very nervous before these appointments. So much so that I've been awake since 4 a.m. feeling anxious. This sort of hyper-worrying makes me wonder if I'm going to be one of those parents who gives their kids a 9:00 curfew and installs a GPS chip in the kid's neck so they always know where they are. That is so creepy! And if I know 17-year-olds, they'll figure out a way to cheat that chip anyway. If there's one group you can never underestimate in terms of sneakiness, it's teenagers. They're worse than the KGB. Really, instead of using the CIA, we ought to send some high schoolers to find Osama bin Laden. It'll probably take them about 20 minutes.

I am both itchy and scratchy

J and I saw The Simpsons Movie yesterday. It's really funny! Compared to sitting in a theatre for what felt like 8 hours for the last Pirates movie, this one felt remarkably short and concise. And it really is 90 minutes of good-natured fun. I would highly recommend it.

I also watched this segment on 60 Minutes last night about the incredibly powerful, corrupt, doomed-to-hell pharmaceutical lobby in Washington, D.C.. I'm not kidding, the people who work for the drug companies all better have some serious religious epiphanies on their deathbeds because they are all pretty much pure evil. Not that I exaggerate or anything. But I don't understand how these people live with themselves spending millions of dollars to get legislation passed that will make them billions at the expense of every taxpayer and prescription-user in the country. Do they have no conscience? Or is it easy to just not think about it when your pillow's made of spun gold? Ugh.

Let the Twinkie spin

I had a dream last night that I was Pam from The Office, and I was hanging out with Jim and other Office people, and we were all taking part in the newest fad: ordering insect eggs through the mail and then putting them underneath our skin. I know, gross. But in the dream, your skin would get all puffy and red and then the adult insect would burst out and fly away, leaving big gashes in your skin. And my skin got puffier and redder than everybody else's, but it didn't hurt. Now, tell me, this has got to be a childbirth dream, right? My brain is using the hatching of insects in my body as a metaphor for this baby, don't you think? Sure, it's an incredibly gross and disgusting metaphor, but from what I've seen on Discovery Health Channel, childbirth ain't exactly pretty, so perhaps it's my way of dealing with that anxiety. Of course, my theory is flawed because I didn't dress up the insects in onesies and rub baby powder on their exoskeletons, but still.

He don't even have his license, Lisa

My sister-in-law sent me an email with a bunch of funny expressions, and one of them was "In life, I've learned that you can keep vomiting long after you think you've finished." It's funny cause it's true.

Well, I just don't know what to do with Lindsay Lohan anymore. What happened to the good old days when young Hollywood stars just did cocaine in the privacy of their own homes? Since when did it become acceptable to go driving around Santa Monica chasing other cars with cocaine in your pocket? Remember back when River Phoenix died and most of us had no idea he was even a drug addict? Although, looking back, I really should have noticed something was up when I saw his performance in Sneakers. Anyway, another theory I heard is that she's just doing all this so she can go to jail like Paris Hilton did and get all that publicity. Would not surprise me. If there's one thing I don't understand, it's Hollywood. Perianal wax jobs? I mean really. That is gross.

Spider pig, spider pig

J and I were having a discussion last night about how differently men and women deal with emotions. I was asking him how men are able to act so calm and rational when really bad things happen, and he replied "Well, men are better at...what's the word?" and I helpfully suggested "having a black, withered stump where your soul's supposed to be?" And he's like "No. Men are better at detaching themselves." Heh.

We watched some of the debate on tv last night. That was interesting. I don't know who three of those Democratic candidates are, but one of them has the fluffiest head of white hair I've ever seen. He looked like a Qtip in a suit. I still can't decide if I like John Edwards, Barack Obama or Hillary Clinton the best. One question, I'd like Edwards. Next question, Obama, etc.... They're really not that different so it's hard to make a decision. But who knows? Maybe Suited Qtip will roar ahead in the primaries. You never know.

Marlboros and Mountain Dew

I'm not going to lie, I spent most of the weekend reading the new Harry Potter book. I can't believe I read over 760 pages in a day and a half, but those books are so easy to read that they just suck you in like an episode of COPS. It's nice to know now how that whole saga ends, although there was quite a bit of death in there. I hope it's not too traumatic for the children.

We also saw Pirates of the Caribbean 3 at the movie theatre yesterday. Meh. Johnny Depp was fun to watch, but, man that movie was long. And they had about 8 subplots going at once, so it's a little hard to follow at points. Also amazing to me: how much Orlando Bloom can look like a woman. He's good-looking, for sure, but there are moments when I want to slap some mascara on him and call him Sally.

You, George, big tree!

I was eating my cereal this morning, looking at the Wubby, and it occurred to me that there are a lot of advantages to being covered in fur. Wubby never has to worry about wrinkles, sunburn or the appearance of cellulite. Plus, when you're furry, you don't have to wear clothes, so think of all the money people could save on turtlenecks if we were all hairy like that. Summertime would be tough, but with enough panting, I'm sure we'd survive. And, really, I'm not entirely convinced that people were meant to live in hot climates anyway, so the fur thing might keep us from living in hurricane-plagued areas. Everybody's happy! Well, except for the ones who have to clean the drains in the tub. That would kind of suck.

I don't cotton to sarcasm

Ergh. I was woken up at 3 a.m. last night to the sound of thunder and many flashes of lightning. But I figured I'd be able to fall back asleep with the pitter patter of the raindrops to soothe my slumber. But nooooo. Around 3:30, the power went out, so we lost our fan and I just couldn't fall back asleep without it. So note to self: soothing sound of fan more important than soothing sound of raindrops. Check. Now I'm feeling awfully tired. I kind of wish I still drank coffee, but I really don't want to get back into that habit until I'm 40, the kids are in school and I really need it. I'll tell you something, my Dad used to drink something like 8 cups of coffee a day, but as I get older, I'm starting to understand why. He woke up at 5 a.m. every morning, and it's just darn hard to function all day without some artificial stimulation. There. I said it. Sometimes drugs are good. Heh heh heh.

Your cholesterol's so high you're practically a solid

I'm definitely feeling the wardrobe crunch now. I'm still only showing a teeny little bit (to me it looks more like I overindulge in supreme nachos as opposed to being pregnant), but I'm feeling very self-conscious about how many bulges are being seen through my clothes. I've been wrapping a hair tie around the buttons of my pants, but even that is starting to strain a little bit, so I'm going to have to go whole hog (no pun intended) with the maternity clothes here sometime soon. I've also been trying to stick to my bigger tshirts because I wore a smaller one today and I already feel like I'm showing too much gut. It's like those girls you see walking down the street with the super-tight pants, shirts that have no chance of meeting the waistband and they've got muffin tops in eight different places and you just say to yourself "Ooooh, not a good choice." I don't want to be one of those girls.

Mufasa

I saw on the news this morning that a few weeks ago, five recent high school graduates died in a car crash, and the police think that it might have happened because the girl driving was text messaging as she drove. Wow, seriously, I've never even tried to text message while driving because I can barely do it when I'm sitting on my couch, much less when I'm trying to steer a half-ton vehicle through traffic. Teenagers these days have abilities to multi-task that I would never even dream up. Of course, I see adults driving to work who are smoking, talking on a cell phone AND drinking coffee, so I guess it's not just the kids. And then the irony of it hits me--when I'm sitting in my car noticing what other people are doing, I, too, am distracted from the road. It's amazing any of us ever get where we're going.

I'm especially good at expectorating

On our way to work this morning, J and I saw an alleged hooker hitchhiking on the street, and J commented that she was actually a lot more well-dressed than most of the hookers we see in the morning. He said "See, she's wearing socks and shoes." That's class right there.

We saw Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix yesterday. That's a pretty good movie. Definitely getting darker and more complex as the characters age, but still fun, too. I've read all the Harry Potter books, so I'm always interested to see what gets condensed in the movies. But generally I think they do a good job of trimming the literary fat. I'm also on the public library's waiting list for the new Harry Potter book that's coming out this week. Know what my place in line is on the waiting list? 1998. Seriously. That is ridiculous.

But you have heard of me

Every time a Friday the 13th rolls around, I start convincing myself that there are knife-wielding freaks in hockey masks behind every corner. I have got to do something about this overactive imagination of mine. But I was just sitting here thinking about going across the street to get an iced tea (since I was up for a while last night and am feeling a trifle tired), but then I thought to myself "Hey, it's Friday the 13th. What if a meteor hits me while I'm walking? Or what if I get hit by an old blind lady driving a car? Or there's a bloodthirsty wolf between me and the tea?" While these are remote possibilities, they're probably not any more possible today than they would be any other day. As Jack Sparrow says "It is possible. It's just not probable." And we should all take to heart the advice given to us by fictional, sexy pirate men. Isn't that something that I still consider that character sexy even though he's got bad teeth, wears eyeliner and is obviously insane? That Johnny Depp. He makes everything look good.

I swear I haven't been drinking, occifer

Heh, I just read an item on tvguide.com that Lindsay Lohan is now a lesbian. Riiiight. That girl is way too drunk to know if she's homosexual or not. Seriously, one's sexuality should only be decided when one is sober and calm. Much like trimming one's bangs. I always used to do that after I'd gone out during college, and I'd show up to class the next day with my face looking crooked. Ahh, those were the days. And, really, there weren't that many of them. I didn't turn 21 until I was a senior in college, so I think the number of stories I have about going out are far fewer than a lot of people I've met. And even when I did go out, I had such a low tolerance for alcohol that I'd have two beers and puke them back up an hour later. I was no party animal, that's for sure. But I was a cheap date. Some chicks require $50 worth of alcohol before they puke on their friends. Not me!

"Maupa dupa" is Polish for "monkey butt"

Ach du lieber Augusta (which is what my Polish grandmother always used to say. Roughly translated, I think it means "Crap!"), I feel sick this morning. I was doing just fine getting ready for work, but after I ate my cereal, I got hit with a rogue wave of nausea and tossed it all back up. It's so weird. I haven't hurled in weeks, and then out of nowhere, I'm yakking in the sink again. And, of course, this makes me worry that something is wrong, but I'm trying to not be too much of a hypochondriac. Hopefully, in a few minutes here I can get down the banana I brought with me and I'll feel better. I just wish my stomach and I got along better. We always seem to be at odds with each other. Sigh.

I have to push the pram a lot

I'm just going to admit it: I hate musicals. I keep trying to convince myself that I could like them, but I believe I'm fighting a losing battle here. I was watching a rerun of Family Guy last night, and at one point, the kids break into a rendition of the "So long, farewell" song from The Sound of Music, and the minute I heard the music playing in the background, I groaned. I hate it when people break into song. And that was even a funny satire on one of my favorite shows. I'm quite sure that if I ever do sit down and try to watch Chicago or Moulin Rouge, I'll gouge myself in the ears with a ballpoint pen. It's pretty much the same feeling I get when I accidentally hear country music or any song by Linkin Park. It's ear gouging time!

Now that we've heard from Katie that she and her baby are doing well and getting used to life together, I want to see some pictures. I know that, empirically, a lot of babies look similar, but I still love to try to pick out parental features. I can spend half an hour examining a baby's eyes trying to decide if they're mom's or dad's. It's more addictive than sudoku.

We went and saw Live Free or Die Hard yesterday. That was a fun movie! The interaction between Bruce Willis and the Mac kid was fun, and I liked that his daughter was so tough. Plus, I found the concept of the movie interesting--what would I do if all the country's technology was gone? If the electricity went out and all I had was a battery-powered radio? Cause, as I've said before, I'm pretty lost without McDonald's and tv. I'd probably have to start eating dirt and whittling sticks for fun. Sounds fascinating.

Kill your own Thanksgiving dinner dead

I started reading Cold Mountain yesterday. When that movie came out, I was feeling very anti-Jude Law, so I didn't pay much attention to it, but the book is fantastic. It's very well-written, and I like the sense of history you get. But I think I'm most fascinated by this idea of two women running a self-sufficient farm. Seriously, how awesome would it be to know how to make all your own food, spin wool and fix a log cabin in your spare time? I can barely hard boil an egg. I mean, it sounds like an enormous amount of work, but that must feel very fulfilling to go into your backyard and make lunch from food you grew yourself. I'm not emotionally invested in the Cheerios I bought from Walmart at all. I'm the product of a consumer-driven, disposable society, and it's a darn shame.

I felt like Ben Franklin

I haven't gotten a "no baby yet" email from Katie in the last couple days, so I'm wondering again if this means she had her baby! Squee! I really hope so. And that would just be adorable if he was born on the 4th of July. He'll never have to work on his birthday. Alll riiiight. We had a very nice holiday visiting my family yesterday. J and I didn't actually go see any fireworks, but we almost got struck by lightning at a festival, so we felt like that was close enough. Seriously, we were standing in a parking lot under overcast skies and next thing you know there's this loud bang and flashing lights 6 feet away and everybody around us is running for cover. J said the hairs on his arms even stood up. It's just a darn good thing none of us was holding up a golf club or twirling a baton at the time.

I have a lot of fond memories of that dog

I don't know if it's the fact that I've been awake since 3 a.m. or what, but I would kill somebody for some sweet tea right now. Am I even supposed to drink sweet tea? You know what? I don't care. If I don't get either that or a frozen coke/Coca-Cola Icee, somebody gonna get hurt. And that somebody will probably be the poor, defenseless Andy Warhol tome sitting on my desk. You know what I don't get about Warhol? Cause I like the Pop Art, I really do, but that guy wore sunglasses indoors all the time. Speaking as somebody with very poor eyesight, I just can't imagine choosing to walk around all day barely being able to see what's in front of you. What a goofball. And you know what else? I don't see what the big whoop is about Shia LeBeef or whatever that kid's name is. And what is High School Musical anyway? Pfft. I am so tired.

Form of...an iceberg!

I woke up this morning with a pain in my nose. If I touch the top of my nose where the cartilage meets the bone, it hurts. This makes me wonder if I slapped myself in the face while I was sleeping last night. Because I actually slept pretty well, and I just know that wasn't from natural causes. I must have beaten myself about the head or something to make myself sleep so well, I just know it. I'm a self-mutilating somnambulist!

We had a nice weekend. J got a lot of work done in the kitchen. So much so that it actually looks nice and clean in there now. Get out of town! Since he was painting, I didn't help him that much...unless you count shouting to him from the living room as helping. I was just trying to keep him updated on what was happening on the movies I was watching on tv. Because I know when you're doing hard physical labor, you'd just die if you didn't know that Bruce Willis had caught the bad guy in Unbreakable. I'm so helpful!