As I previously disclaimed, I indeed have been quite busy in the last week, spending some quality time with my soldier man. He looks so incredibly hot in his camouflage *smirk* So much has been going on in the last week that I've been trying to think of the best way to detail it all so that you get the jist without getting brain fatigue. I decided to steal a little creative license from a movie we saw over the holidays (another disclaimer: this worked well in the movie, no guarantees it will for the blog!). So fasten your seatbelts:
Sunday
Shopped for groceries. Things Ads would like. Went to a Xmas party. Saw more Mittmans. They might be relatives but we're not sure yet. Had a good time, said good-bye, waited at home for Ads. He got to town but couldn't make it onto our street--too much snow. I drove down to the end of the block, met him, kissed him, loaded him and Kiks up, drove home. First night of Chanukkah. It was a good night.
Monday
Got up, worked a half day. Anxious to get home. Ads picked me up. Cleaned house furiously for two hours. Went to birth center to meet with midwives. Felt my uterus. Heard baby kick. Heard baby's fast heartbeat. Adam told silly jokes that made the midwives laugh. He still thinks he's funny. Baby's happy and healthy. We're happy and thankful. Went home, made latkes for Chanukkah. Had a few friends over. We ate. We talked. We laughed. We all ate some more. We watched new reality show ("Momma's Boys"). Gave Adam Channukah gifts. Another good night.
Tuesday
Worked a half day. Went home, Adam was at lunch with George and Krishnan. House was cold. I read books in bed. All baby books now. That's all I read. It's sad. It's useful. Adam came home. We talked about babies. We fell asleep. Woke up and talked more about babies. Realized too late we were late for our date night. Hurried to get dressed and out of the house. Raced to gallery in thick wall of snow. Saw Dr. Suess exhibit. Adam liked. So did I. Got a hug from the gallery owner. Went to swanky restaurant for dinner. Same restaurant from our wedding night. Ads was surprised. I was pleased. Very romantic with snow falling outside. We ate a lot and talked a lot. Went home, watched tv. Lit the menorah. Good night.
Wednesday
Xmas Eve. I took off from work. We cleaned house. House got messier. We gave up. Went shopping for baby. Got overwhelmed. How do we decide? Consulted books but still confusing. Came home, ate pie, watched George Bailey like his life again. Fourth night of Chanukkah. Good night.
Thursday
Christmas. Got up, had breakfast with friends. Played with kids. I ate 1/2 grapefruit kid licked. I cease to care. I was hungry. Picked up Krishnan, went to Ann Arbor. Saw Heather and family. Visited. Drank two glasses of water. Hydrated again. Left Ann Arbor with Krishnan and Maya. They both slept. Adam drove. I nagged. Had chai. Went home. Tried to clean house. Gave up. Went to movies. Watched Wilson and Aniston with Marley. Reminded us of Shabbi. Cried for long time in theater. Sat and talked about her. Adam got text on his phone. Went home and made calls. Found out his uncle died. Lit menorah for Shabbi and Uncle Mel. Not a good night.
Friday
More baby shopping. Adam and I fought in mall. People watched. Made up and shopped for baby. Overwhelmed again but found stuff. Nice crib, nice stroller. Maybe we're catching on. Came home, ate leftovers, took bath, watched tv. More Chanukkah gifts. Better night.
Saturday
Got up. Felt weird sensation in belly. Went to volunteer, greenhouse closed. Picked up Adam. Met Krishnan and Maya at mall. Had fun with Maya. Came home. Cleaned again. Made some progress. Went to dinner. Very romantic at Irish Pub. Walked around, got ice cream. Full tummies. Went home. Lit menorah? Passed out.
Sunday
Slept in. Felt weird movement in belly. Got up. Felt panicked. Running out of time. Gotta get things done. Adam worked on garbage disposal. Called customer service. Fixed disposal...after being spewed with sludge. I laughed uncontrollably. Took showers. Kika walking in sludge. Took her into shower with me. Greg House accidentally locked in attic. Has blown paper insulation in fur. Took him in shower with me. Finally out of shower. Went to dinner with Mittmans. Still not relatives but maybe they are. Had good times. Laughed a lot, ate well. Last night of Chanukkah. Lit menorah for our family. Missing Shabbi. Looking forward to baby. Good night.
Monday
Slept in. Supposed to go to work. Bailed. Slept til 10am. Cleaned out garage. Cleaned out house. Finally looks like house again. Pants no longer fit. Depressed. Had lunch with Krishnan and George. Cleaned house some more. Met gang for good-byes. Went home, watched tv. Passed out. Good night.
Today
First day of maternity pants. No other pants fit. Dealing. Last (only) day of work for the week. Leaving with Adam for Virginia in the morning. Supposed to get 4-5 inches of snow overnight. Hope we make it out tomorrow. Just saw myself in mirror. A pregnant lady stared back at me. Dealing.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Quick Bump Update
Just a quickie this time, but wanted to update folks on our first appointment at the birth center yesterday. I was super-pysched that Ads was in town to go with me. We met with the head midwife, Kip, and a midwife apprentice, Audra, who bore a stunning resemblance to Jorja Fox from CSI. She was really super cute.
But anyway, the baby. At the end of the appointment, Kip had me lie down and she helped Adam and me find the margins of my ever-growing uterus. It was fascinating to know how big it is now, and to know that the wee one is filling up most of that space. Adam kept saying, "So the baby's in there?" while pointing to the alcove that Kip had cupped out with her hands. It is incredible to know that something (someone) that big is inhabiting my body right now.
When Audra took out the Doppler to find the heartbeat (always a little nerve-racking for me, for fear that they can't find it), within seconds we heard a loud static crack. She and Kip both started laughing and exclaimed, "That was a kick!" Adam and I couldn't believe how active our little person already is; I think Ads is still marvelling that it has little feet and hands already.
So that's that for now. Stay tuned for a "Best of 2008" list coming soon...
But anyway, the baby. At the end of the appointment, Kip had me lie down and she helped Adam and me find the margins of my ever-growing uterus. It was fascinating to know how big it is now, and to know that the wee one is filling up most of that space. Adam kept saying, "So the baby's in there?" while pointing to the alcove that Kip had cupped out with her hands. It is incredible to know that something (someone) that big is inhabiting my body right now.
When Audra took out the Doppler to find the heartbeat (always a little nerve-racking for me, for fear that they can't find it), within seconds we heard a loud static crack. She and Kip both started laughing and exclaimed, "That was a kick!" Adam and I couldn't believe how active our little person already is; I think Ads is still marvelling that it has little feet and hands already.
So that's that for now. Stay tuned for a "Best of 2008" list coming soon...
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Uhhhhhh......????
So, I know it's late (1:40 am, to be exact) but I KNOW I didn't hear this wrong. I'm in our home office, trying to wrap things up online before hitting the sack, and I've got television on in the background. I believe it's an episode of "Law & Order: SVU" (no mistaking Mariska Hargitay's voice). Anyway, I just heard her confront a woman with the words, "He's cheating on you...with his own daughter." Yeah, I think that's fodder only for L&O:SVU. You just wouldn't hear Sam Waterston saying things like that on the original L&O. And I know that 'cause he answered my question, so we're like that now (BFFs).
Yesterday evening, after coming home from work 3 hours early, I started shovelling the 4 inches of snow that had accumulated on my driveway in the 4 hours that I'd been at work. An inch an hour. Once again, my neighbor was nowhere to be seen. I was more than halfway done when he runs out of this house, zipping up his jacket in the process, and yells, "You need to beat on my door!" I just smiled, but my internal monologue was saying "Why do I need to come get you to shovel our joint driveway??? Take some initiative, Buster!" Then he started shovelling and, while puffing up a cigarette only feet from me, started making inane comments about how he was happy to help me shovel since I'm pregnant, but of course he wasn't helping me shovel because of course, it's his responsibility to shovel, too. Oh, and how he was glad to see that the two of us cared about the state of our property when so few others do; I just looked at him quizzically, since I knew that he wouldn't have stepped one toe in that snow if he hadn't heard me laboring away beneath his window. I asked him to shovel another part of the driveway, away from me, because I couldn't be around his cigarette. He got embarassed right away (I felt bad about that) then apologized and mumbled, "I should've thought of that".
I replied, trying to help him out, "Well, you're not pregnant, why would you think of it?" He just shrugged and looked sheepish and we shovelled on. The driveway has been nice and clear for a whole day and it's been great. Tonight, Old Man Winter is dumping another 2-4 inches of snow on us. Yup, it's been great.
I just got off of a Skype call with a good friend who lives in Mongolia. Ann, it was SO good to speak to you tonight. Isn't technology (sometimes) great??? I kept thinking the entire time how unreal it was that we were looking at each other and talking for FREE when we are literally halfway around the world from each other. Sometimes technology really does win.
Adam comes in tomorrow evening and I couldn't be more excited. I spent all day today cleaning the house, doing the laundry and buying last-minute groceries before the snow hit. Just have to get the Chanukkah (tomorrow is the first night) and Christmas decor out so things are at least somewhat decorated by the time he comes home. If you don't hear from me in a few days, you'll, uh, know why. :-) <---very happy grin!
So Mariska has now confronted the man in question. I heard her say, "How could you? She's your daughter!" Man-in-question responded, "But I never saw her that way; she was always a full-grown woman to me..." Uhhhhh...hmm...yeah. G'night, folks.
Yesterday evening, after coming home from work 3 hours early, I started shovelling the 4 inches of snow that had accumulated on my driveway in the 4 hours that I'd been at work. An inch an hour. Once again, my neighbor was nowhere to be seen. I was more than halfway done when he runs out of this house, zipping up his jacket in the process, and yells, "You need to beat on my door!" I just smiled, but my internal monologue was saying "Why do I need to come get you to shovel our joint driveway??? Take some initiative, Buster!" Then he started shovelling and, while puffing up a cigarette only feet from me, started making inane comments about how he was happy to help me shovel since I'm pregnant, but of course he wasn't helping me shovel because of course, it's his responsibility to shovel, too. Oh, and how he was glad to see that the two of us cared about the state of our property when so few others do; I just looked at him quizzically, since I knew that he wouldn't have stepped one toe in that snow if he hadn't heard me laboring away beneath his window. I asked him to shovel another part of the driveway, away from me, because I couldn't be around his cigarette. He got embarassed right away (I felt bad about that) then apologized and mumbled, "I should've thought of that".
I replied, trying to help him out, "Well, you're not pregnant, why would you think of it?" He just shrugged and looked sheepish and we shovelled on. The driveway has been nice and clear for a whole day and it's been great. Tonight, Old Man Winter is dumping another 2-4 inches of snow on us. Yup, it's been great.
I just got off of a Skype call with a good friend who lives in Mongolia. Ann, it was SO good to speak to you tonight. Isn't technology (sometimes) great??? I kept thinking the entire time how unreal it was that we were looking at each other and talking for FREE when we are literally halfway around the world from each other. Sometimes technology really does win.
Adam comes in tomorrow evening and I couldn't be more excited. I spent all day today cleaning the house, doing the laundry and buying last-minute groceries before the snow hit. Just have to get the Chanukkah (tomorrow is the first night) and Christmas decor out so things are at least somewhat decorated by the time he comes home. If you don't hear from me in a few days, you'll, uh, know why. :-) <---very happy grin!
So Mariska has now confronted the man in question. I heard her say, "How could you? She's your daughter!" Man-in-question responded, "But I never saw her that way; she was always a full-grown woman to me..." Uhhhhh...hmm...yeah. G'night, folks.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Oh! What A Beautiful Morning!
That's actually not in jest. The snow is beautiful, but it's also a major pain in the arse. I woke up this morning around 1am (bathroom break? Greg House pawing at my face? Hunger pangs?) to find that no snow had fallen. Same thing when I woke up again at 3am. I thought to myself, "Ha! Once again the weather forecasters made much ado about a whole lotta nothing!"
Then Greg House, hunger pangs, and a need for a potty visit all woke me up at 4am, at which point I looked out the window to see the snow--or rather, a sheet of snow--coming down. I was shocked how much had changed in an hour. I was also shocked at how hungry I was so early in the morning. But I threw Greg House in the basement, used the toilet and went back to bed. A half hour went by with no sleep. I gave up, headed to the basement to release the cat, fed him and made myself a bowl of cereal. I listened to the radio while I ate, cross-legged, in front of the space heater in my bedroom. I kept sneaking peaks out the window at the snow accumulation; it was building up so fast...I just decided not to worry about whether I'd be going to work or not today, but the idea of staying home and sleeping was so appealing.
With both our bellies full, House and I curled up for another couple hours of slumber. His motor rumbled deep in his chest, putting me into a fitful sleep. When the alarm went off two hours later, I was not ready to get up, particularly after I checked the snow's progression. I had to shovel that??? I turned over and slept another hour before finally getting up to start shovelling. After a nice hot shower, I put on my snow gear (ski pants and new snow boots) and headed outside to start the gruntwork. Immediately, Jack Frost blindsided me with not just snow, but sleet hitting me square in the eyes. I ducked my head down as I started shovelling, making extra scraping noises to ensure that my next-door neighbor would know that I was shovelling. We have a joint driveway with him, and for some reason, this dude (nice as he is) never helps with the shovelling. The last snowfall gave us about 5 inches, and I had to shovel our long, long driveway all by my lonesome. So, this morning, I decided that he would help me. I was about 30 minutes in, resentful and aching, and nearing the end of the driveway when he popped out of his house. When I saw him start his car, I thought, "no he didn't!", assuming he was going to drive out over my newly shovelled driveway without helping. But he was just warming his car up, and ended up grabbing his shovel to help me finish up. He even offered to shovel my sidewalk for me, but I was already starting so I just finished. Maybe he'll be a little better about helping me out in the future, especially as I start getting bigger and less agile.
The drive to work was torturous. I should've kept my butt at home, but I wanted the hours in at work, so I braved the as-predicted-unplowed roads of Michigan. I almost had an accident with a car coming up behind me as I tried to swerve to avoid hitting a snowbank that had been left in the lefthand lane of traffic. I stopped at Panera to treat myself to breakfast (I deserved it, after all) and felt the icy beads pelting my face as I came back out to my car. Finally made it to work to find two of my coworkers in; my boss and a few other people stayed at home today. I should've taken their lead.
So here I am, trying to decide how long I'm actually going to stay in this office with near white-out conditions outside my window. The storm isn't supposed to end until this evening, and I really don't want to be caught in rush-hour traffic in poor weather and road conditions. Oh yea, and I'm supposed to go home, make a pot of chili and head over to a work Christmas party this evening.
Oh, what a night, late December, back in 2008...
Then Greg House, hunger pangs, and a need for a potty visit all woke me up at 4am, at which point I looked out the window to see the snow--or rather, a sheet of snow--coming down. I was shocked how much had changed in an hour. I was also shocked at how hungry I was so early in the morning. But I threw Greg House in the basement, used the toilet and went back to bed. A half hour went by with no sleep. I gave up, headed to the basement to release the cat, fed him and made myself a bowl of cereal. I listened to the radio while I ate, cross-legged, in front of the space heater in my bedroom. I kept sneaking peaks out the window at the snow accumulation; it was building up so fast...I just decided not to worry about whether I'd be going to work or not today, but the idea of staying home and sleeping was so appealing.
With both our bellies full, House and I curled up for another couple hours of slumber. His motor rumbled deep in his chest, putting me into a fitful sleep. When the alarm went off two hours later, I was not ready to get up, particularly after I checked the snow's progression. I had to shovel that??? I turned over and slept another hour before finally getting up to start shovelling. After a nice hot shower, I put on my snow gear (ski pants and new snow boots) and headed outside to start the gruntwork. Immediately, Jack Frost blindsided me with not just snow, but sleet hitting me square in the eyes. I ducked my head down as I started shovelling, making extra scraping noises to ensure that my next-door neighbor would know that I was shovelling. We have a joint driveway with him, and for some reason, this dude (nice as he is) never helps with the shovelling. The last snowfall gave us about 5 inches, and I had to shovel our long, long driveway all by my lonesome. So, this morning, I decided that he would help me. I was about 30 minutes in, resentful and aching, and nearing the end of the driveway when he popped out of his house. When I saw him start his car, I thought, "no he didn't!", assuming he was going to drive out over my newly shovelled driveway without helping. But he was just warming his car up, and ended up grabbing his shovel to help me finish up. He even offered to shovel my sidewalk for me, but I was already starting so I just finished. Maybe he'll be a little better about helping me out in the future, especially as I start getting bigger and less agile.
The drive to work was torturous. I should've kept my butt at home, but I wanted the hours in at work, so I braved the as-predicted-unplowed roads of Michigan. I almost had an accident with a car coming up behind me as I tried to swerve to avoid hitting a snowbank that had been left in the lefthand lane of traffic. I stopped at Panera to treat myself to breakfast (I deserved it, after all) and felt the icy beads pelting my face as I came back out to my car. Finally made it to work to find two of my coworkers in; my boss and a few other people stayed at home today. I should've taken their lead.
So here I am, trying to decide how long I'm actually going to stay in this office with near white-out conditions outside my window. The storm isn't supposed to end until this evening, and I really don't want to be caught in rush-hour traffic in poor weather and road conditions. Oh yea, and I'm supposed to go home, make a pot of chili and head over to a work Christmas party this evening.
Oh, what a night, late December, back in 2008...
Thursday, December 18, 2008
I Came In At 37, 40, and 45...
Parents.com just released their top 50 girls' and boys' names. I decided to take a peek to see if any of the names Ads and I have been toying with fell on either of the lists.
All three of my names--first, middle and last--fell on the top 50 girls' list. Lauren was 37, Bailey ranked 40, and Alexis came in at 45. I guess I'm not as original as I thought I was...
All three of my names--first, middle and last--fell on the top 50 girls' list. Lauren was 37, Bailey ranked 40, and Alexis came in at 45. I guess I'm not as original as I thought I was...
In the Line of Ire
We are about to get pummeled.
The entire west coast and mid-section of Michigan is in the path of our first major winter storm, which is due to drop upwards of 10 inches on us by Friday's end. That fluffy stuff I was running around taking pictures of earlier this week was evidently just nature's giggle for the guffaw that's on the horizon.
I have no faith in the city's ability to deal with this amount of snow. Last year the mayor announced half-way through the snow season that the city had officially "run out of salt" to de-ice the roads, because a bulk of it had been sold to neighboring cities to increase our revenue. The city had also curtailed all overtime for sanitation workers, meaning that roadplows were not operating outside of normal business hours. Since weather patterns don't always function according to the American business schedule, this sanction on overtime was not the best situation for those travelling after hours. Seeing as the economy is in even more dire straits than last year, I can hardly expect any of these situations to have improved. So, this gal is taking care of "biz-ness" for herself.
Not that any part of me that wants to hit up the grocery store, right before a big snowstorm, with the rest of the crazed residents of this fair city. However, it's tonight or never. I want rations for the bunker...I mean, food for the house...in case I'm shut in for a lengthy period of time. Besides, I have a hungry man arriving soon; he might eat me and Greg House if the cabinets aren't filled to capacity.
I have finally bought everything that I am going to buy from the giant Linens 'N' Things store closing sale. I won't give a laundry list of the many great items I scored, but I was totally stoked to get my first Christmas-themed tablecloth and napkins last night, so I will spend time tonight (while I'm housebound) decorating for the holiday. It's about time I get all that Xmas stuff up from the basement.
So I shall keep candles, matches, flashlights and batteries on standby as Jack Frost makes his way eastward. I'll take as many pictures of the "guffaw" as my cold tolerance will allow. Stay safe and warm!
The entire west coast and mid-section of Michigan is in the path of our first major winter storm, which is due to drop upwards of 10 inches on us by Friday's end. That fluffy stuff I was running around taking pictures of earlier this week was evidently just nature's giggle for the guffaw that's on the horizon.
I have no faith in the city's ability to deal with this amount of snow. Last year the mayor announced half-way through the snow season that the city had officially "run out of salt" to de-ice the roads, because a bulk of it had been sold to neighboring cities to increase our revenue. The city had also curtailed all overtime for sanitation workers, meaning that roadplows were not operating outside of normal business hours. Since weather patterns don't always function according to the American business schedule, this sanction on overtime was not the best situation for those travelling after hours. Seeing as the economy is in even more dire straits than last year, I can hardly expect any of these situations to have improved. So, this gal is taking care of "biz-ness" for herself.
Not that any part of me that wants to hit up the grocery store, right before a big snowstorm, with the rest of the crazed residents of this fair city. However, it's tonight or never. I want rations for the bunker...I mean, food for the house...in case I'm shut in for a lengthy period of time. Besides, I have a hungry man arriving soon; he might eat me and Greg House if the cabinets aren't filled to capacity.
I have finally bought everything that I am going to buy from the giant Linens 'N' Things store closing sale. I won't give a laundry list of the many great items I scored, but I was totally stoked to get my first Christmas-themed tablecloth and napkins last night, so I will spend time tonight (while I'm housebound) decorating for the holiday. It's about time I get all that Xmas stuff up from the basement.
So I shall keep candles, matches, flashlights and batteries on standby as Jack Frost makes his way eastward. I'll take as many pictures of the "guffaw" as my cold tolerance will allow. Stay safe and warm!
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Snow Falling On Gutters
There aren't any cedars on my street, but thought I'd post some pix for all to enjoy. Or at least for Adam to enjoy, because he specifically said he wished he could see all the snow we're getting. So, honey baby, here ya go.
I hope Ads got me a tobaggan for Xmas...
SNOW! I feel it, it's coming...feel it on my fingertips...
This is our backyard. My little Jetta is going to be buried by tomorrow morning!
I hope Ads got me a tobaggan for Xmas...
SNOW! I feel it, it's coming...feel it on my fingertips...
This is our backyard. My little Jetta is going to be buried by tomorrow morning!
Lauren's Sense of Snow
Tonight we're set for a good 3-5 inches of snowfall. As bad as this sounds, I am pretty excited for some good ole rockin' holiday cotton! Too bad I have to work tomorrow; I'm trying to make up some hours this week so there's no getting out of it. But knowing that it'll be all snowy and cold outside while I'm at work somehow makes things more exciting (or maybe it's that most of my officemates will have left early to avoid slippery roads, leaving the place to me). My colleague from North Carolina is not at all amused--by the snow or by my enthusiasm.
My only concern about getting a snowstorm is that Adam is driving into town this weekend. His car is a bit on the sporty side (let me be clear...it's a sports coup, not a sports car--I've been corrected many times over the years); it's not the best at handling slippery road conditions, so my delight at the snow ends when it comes to his and everyone else's travel safety. So far, we're due for more snow on Thursday and Friday, but I'm not sure what will happen come Sunday evening, when Ads is due to arrive in town.
Tonight is "House, MD", Greg House's and my favorite cuddle-up-together-under-a-warm-blanket tv show. He really likes seeing his namesake hobble around the hospital on his cane. House (the cat) meows at the tv and then jumps off the couch, whips out his cane and pretends to hobble around the house just like the tv character does. It's really quite the sight to see. He's got such a great imagination! Have to be there, I guess.
I know everyone across the country is getting cold, wintry conditions, so bundle up, stay warm and watch some tv tonight. Or watch your cat. Entertainment either way.
My only concern about getting a snowstorm is that Adam is driving into town this weekend. His car is a bit on the sporty side (let me be clear...it's a sports coup, not a sports car--I've been corrected many times over the years); it's not the best at handling slippery road conditions, so my delight at the snow ends when it comes to his and everyone else's travel safety. So far, we're due for more snow on Thursday and Friday, but I'm not sure what will happen come Sunday evening, when Ads is due to arrive in town.
Tonight is "House, MD", Greg House's and my favorite cuddle-up-together-under-a-warm-blanket tv show. He really likes seeing his namesake hobble around the hospital on his cane. House (the cat) meows at the tv and then jumps off the couch, whips out his cane and pretends to hobble around the house just like the tv character does. It's really quite the sight to see. He's got such a great imagination! Have to be there, I guess.
I know everyone across the country is getting cold, wintry conditions, so bundle up, stay warm and watch some tv tonight. Or watch your cat. Entertainment either way.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Nightmare On My Street...But No Caroling....
So much to write, so little time...
This past weekend was awesome in so many ways, but incredibly weird, too. Friday my girl Em invited me to a Christmas party with a bunch of women I didn't think I'd know. Turns out, I was wrong; I knew a few others who I've met through the years and it turned out to be loads of fun. I was the only one there not drinking or eating the soft cheese, so that blew, but otherwise, my hard-cheese-and-crackers-and-glass-of-ice-water was a nice accompaniment to fun conversation and a raucous gift exchange toward the end. I ended with a CD of highlights from Tchaikovsky's "The Nutcracker" which, while appropriate for the season, will also be a nice bedtime theme for the baby when it comes. The part about Friday, though, that got me the most psyched, was the fact that these women get together once a month for socializing, networking, etc. I didn't know that people did these types of things anymore, in the high-tech, low-contact world we live in today. I am happy to know that there are more ladies out there for me to meet. Wow, that sounded borderline lesbian. Well, I'll just go with it.
Saturday was a little more weird. My neighbor, Mrs. G., invited me to her great-granddaughter's "Quincinera", aka "Sweet 15th party." However, "party" is putting it lightly. This was an extravaganza! Ne'er would I have imagined the amount of money (the girl of honor's dress cost $700), time (they've been practicing for it since August) and effort that would go into a birthday party. But I guess this is a Mexican tradition, and it's supposed to be this big and extravagant. The birthday girl had a church ceremony, a huge reception and then all-night dancing afterward. For all intents and purposes, it was a wedding sans the groom. I'm not even kidding. She had a whole entourage of girls (around 8 of them, I think?) and escorts to accompany each of them. The were mostly kids from her school, and they were dudded up in bridesmaid's dresses and rented tuxes. It was quite the sight to see. When I asked Mrs. G. about the cost of the event, she said that the parents don't pay for it all; instead, they get "sponsors"--relatives, people from the church, friends from the community--to agree to pay for different parts of the event. That way, the parents are only responsible for the food and any item that is left over. I guess that's the way that weddings work, too. I found that hard to believe. But, I guess if Starr Jones could get sponsors for her wedding, why can't the rest of us?
Switching gears...One of my girlfriends once told me that when she was pregnant, she experienced very visceral, extremely erotic dreams that left her falling out of her bed night after night. She said, "Girl, this part of pregnancy is GOOD." Well, I have the visceral, falling-out-of-bed part down, but my dreams are actually on par with nightmares. For the past two nights, I have woken up in tears, thinking that someone is in my house waiting to kill me. Last night, I dreamt that I was being attacked by a wild animal and when I woke up at 4:30am, I waited the 30 minutes till I knew Adam would be waking up and called him, half-crying. Poor Ads was woken up simultaneously by his cell phone alarm and hotel wake-up call at the same time I called him in tears. He picked up, still groggy, with alarms going off in the background to say, "Heh-woh??" I told him to go shut off his alarms. When he came back to me, I said with the aching pangs of fear and loneliness, "I had another bad dream and I'm really scared." I think it took a few seconds for it to process through his sleepiness. "You did?" he replied. "Yeah, another one," I reminded him. The dream the night before had me in the middle of a murder-mystery movie (narrated creepily by Morgan Freeman) where I was the target of a psychopathic murderer in 1940s New York City. When I wasn't actually in the movie, I could see myself being portrayed rather convincingly by Keri Russell, of "Felicity" fame. Yea, I know, it doesn't add up. But, boy that guy, Mr. Paora (aka 'the killer') was really scary. When I woke up from that dream, I was sure it was a sign, a message from the great beyond that someone was waiting in my house to kill me. I sat in bed, shaking, looking for the slightest movement of a shadow. Gregory House loyally stayed in bed next to me, until the moment that I had to go pee, and I walked cautiously and watchfully through the darkened house. After going back to bed, I begged for the light of day to come so that my fear would go away. Somewhere during this time I fell back into a fitful sleep, and in the morning light, it all seemed ridiculous. But then with dream #2 full of wild grizzlies and bulls chomping at the bit (which was me), I lost sight of reality all over again.
Yesterday evening, I went to some friends' house for dinner. Right after dinner, the doorbell rang, and the husband breathed, "the neighbors." I didn't know what that meant until I heard the singing. The folks (and dogs) in their neighborhood had gotten together to go caroling from one house to another. They sang "Deck the Halls" to us and it was fabulous. I've never been caroled to before and I loved it. All I could think during the entire show was, "This SO wouldn't happen in our neighborhood!" It made me sad that we don't live in the type of community that would even think of doing something so light-hearted and sweet. On second thought, I'm sad for all poor neighborhoods that don't get exposed to simple pleasures like holiday songs on their doorstep. Something has got to change.
To all of you who don't get a holiday jingle, here's one for you
Fa La-la-la-la la-la, la, la
This past weekend was awesome in so many ways, but incredibly weird, too. Friday my girl Em invited me to a Christmas party with a bunch of women I didn't think I'd know. Turns out, I was wrong; I knew a few others who I've met through the years and it turned out to be loads of fun. I was the only one there not drinking or eating the soft cheese, so that blew, but otherwise, my hard-cheese-and-crackers-and-glass-of-ice-water was a nice accompaniment to fun conversation and a raucous gift exchange toward the end. I ended with a CD of highlights from Tchaikovsky's "The Nutcracker" which, while appropriate for the season, will also be a nice bedtime theme for the baby when it comes. The part about Friday, though, that got me the most psyched, was the fact that these women get together once a month for socializing, networking, etc. I didn't know that people did these types of things anymore, in the high-tech, low-contact world we live in today. I am happy to know that there are more ladies out there for me to meet. Wow, that sounded borderline lesbian. Well, I'll just go with it.
Saturday was a little more weird. My neighbor, Mrs. G., invited me to her great-granddaughter's "Quincinera", aka "Sweet 15th party." However, "party" is putting it lightly. This was an extravaganza! Ne'er would I have imagined the amount of money (the girl of honor's dress cost $700), time (they've been practicing for it since August) and effort that would go into a birthday party. But I guess this is a Mexican tradition, and it's supposed to be this big and extravagant. The birthday girl had a church ceremony, a huge reception and then all-night dancing afterward. For all intents and purposes, it was a wedding sans the groom. I'm not even kidding. She had a whole entourage of girls (around 8 of them, I think?) and escorts to accompany each of them. The were mostly kids from her school, and they were dudded up in bridesmaid's dresses and rented tuxes. It was quite the sight to see. When I asked Mrs. G. about the cost of the event, she said that the parents don't pay for it all; instead, they get "sponsors"--relatives, people from the church, friends from the community--to agree to pay for different parts of the event. That way, the parents are only responsible for the food and any item that is left over. I guess that's the way that weddings work, too. I found that hard to believe. But, I guess if Starr Jones could get sponsors for her wedding, why can't the rest of us?
Switching gears...One of my girlfriends once told me that when she was pregnant, she experienced very visceral, extremely erotic dreams that left her falling out of her bed night after night. She said, "Girl, this part of pregnancy is GOOD." Well, I have the visceral, falling-out-of-bed part down, but my dreams are actually on par with nightmares. For the past two nights, I have woken up in tears, thinking that someone is in my house waiting to kill me. Last night, I dreamt that I was being attacked by a wild animal and when I woke up at 4:30am, I waited the 30 minutes till I knew Adam would be waking up and called him, half-crying. Poor Ads was woken up simultaneously by his cell phone alarm and hotel wake-up call at the same time I called him in tears. He picked up, still groggy, with alarms going off in the background to say, "Heh-woh??" I told him to go shut off his alarms. When he came back to me, I said with the aching pangs of fear and loneliness, "I had another bad dream and I'm really scared." I think it took a few seconds for it to process through his sleepiness. "You did?" he replied. "Yeah, another one," I reminded him. The dream the night before had me in the middle of a murder-mystery movie (narrated creepily by Morgan Freeman) where I was the target of a psychopathic murderer in 1940s New York City. When I wasn't actually in the movie, I could see myself being portrayed rather convincingly by Keri Russell, of "Felicity" fame. Yea, I know, it doesn't add up. But, boy that guy, Mr. Paora (aka 'the killer') was really scary. When I woke up from that dream, I was sure it was a sign, a message from the great beyond that someone was waiting in my house to kill me. I sat in bed, shaking, looking for the slightest movement of a shadow. Gregory House loyally stayed in bed next to me, until the moment that I had to go pee, and I walked cautiously and watchfully through the darkened house. After going back to bed, I begged for the light of day to come so that my fear would go away. Somewhere during this time I fell back into a fitful sleep, and in the morning light, it all seemed ridiculous. But then with dream #2 full of wild grizzlies and bulls chomping at the bit (which was me), I lost sight of reality all over again.
Yesterday evening, I went to some friends' house for dinner. Right after dinner, the doorbell rang, and the husband breathed, "the neighbors." I didn't know what that meant until I heard the singing. The folks (and dogs) in their neighborhood had gotten together to go caroling from one house to another. They sang "Deck the Halls" to us and it was fabulous. I've never been caroled to before and I loved it. All I could think during the entire show was, "This SO wouldn't happen in our neighborhood!" It made me sad that we don't live in the type of community that would even think of doing something so light-hearted and sweet. On second thought, I'm sad for all poor neighborhoods that don't get exposed to simple pleasures like holiday songs on their doorstep. Something has got to change.
To all of you who don't get a holiday jingle, here's one for you
Fa La-la-la-la la-la, la, la
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Gestation Wars: The Nausea Strikes Back
For those of you who might be wondering (and for the benefit of those of you who don't care), I have decided to limit any updates/news of my pregnancy to one detailed post every few weeks. I figure many people who read this blog don't care about what nastiness is going on with my bod, so those folks only have one post in a blue moon to skip over, rather than trying to sort through a myriad of posts they do or don't want to read. I've also tried to make the title pretty clear so that people will know if it's a post they'll be interested in.
But...for those of you who are curious--and I've gotten a lot of flack from some of you for not writing more about Wee Willie--here is your semi-monthly news update. Kinda gross but not that exciting, so I'll let you decide for yourself if you really feel like reading.
First, the nausea has returned. This time it brought--as my college roommate Kara used to put it--"the throwup disease" with it. All yesterday my appetite was pretty low and I could barely shovel anything in, despite being pretty hungry. Last night, while brushing my teeth, I felt the impending doom approaching. Luckily I was hunched over a sink anyway. I called Adam immediately afterward for sympathy. After registering that I had indeed thrown up for the first time of my entire pregnancy, he then said very pragmatically, "Well, just turn on the faucet and wash it down!"
In less gross news, I have started showing. Well, it's apparent at least to me, when I'm nude, in front of the mirror. I'm pretty sure that tummy bulge has nothing to do with the two donuts I snarfed this morning on my way to work (I had to make up for the events of last night, right?). My jeans are starting to feel less comfortable to wear all day long, which is a little sad, since I love jeans more than most other things in life. But I've started wearing khaki fieldwork pants, because they "give" a little more when I'm sitting around the office. While I'm too early on to feel any movement yet, supposedly the Navel Orange (Wee Willie's size right now at 16+ weeks) can feel me when I poke and prod at my belly. That's kind of neat. Sometimes I poke a little and then say "This is your Mama! You better behave in there!" Other times I just sit around with my ever-growing belly in my hands and stare, amazed that this is really happening. It is completely unreal.
Exciting news:
Adam and I have been fortunate to have an extensive network of generous and thoughtful friends who have donated/lent their used baby items to us for Wee Willie's comfort and joy. So far, we have amassed many, many clothes, a baby Bjorn, a playmat-with-mobile, carseat, and baby tub from Seth, Sherry, Kai and Quinn; some fantastic books from Sarah and Steve that helped me make the decision to use the birth center; Wee Willie's first baby blanket from Art and Janice; and the ever-necessary cloth diapers from Trixi and Phoenix. Grandma Jayne, Aunt Shannon and Uncle Jake have given Wee Willie its first book, and Grandma Linda and Grandpa Cal sent baby its first spoon. Adam and I are SO excited and extremely grateful. Thanks to you all for your kind gifts and donations and to everyone for the caring thoughts and support.
Last piece of news:
Adam and I have made the command decision to leave the hospital that we've been working with in favor of the local birthing center. After a not-satisfying experience with my ob/gyn, a lot of extensive reading (I highly recommend "The Birth Book" by William & Martha Sears and "The Thinking Woman's Guide to a Better Birth" by Henci Goer) and heeding my own personal beliefs and gut instinct, I've decided to follow human tradition and allow my body to do the work of giving birth, not doctors, nurses, drugs and machines. The birth center is staffed by certified nurse midwives, a doula and a massage therapist. I have a couple of friends who have delivered there and have been extremely satisfied with their birth experiences. Adam and I look forward to ours as well.
So that's it for week 16. Things are good except when I'm puking in the sink; baby is growing and continuing to wreak havoc on my digestive and excretory systems; and Adam and I look forward to good things yet to come.
But...for those of you who are curious--and I've gotten a lot of flack from some of you for not writing more about Wee Willie--here is your semi-monthly news update. Kinda gross but not that exciting, so I'll let you decide for yourself if you really feel like reading.
First, the nausea has returned. This time it brought--as my college roommate Kara used to put it--"the throwup disease" with it. All yesterday my appetite was pretty low and I could barely shovel anything in, despite being pretty hungry. Last night, while brushing my teeth, I felt the impending doom approaching. Luckily I was hunched over a sink anyway. I called Adam immediately afterward for sympathy. After registering that I had indeed thrown up for the first time of my entire pregnancy, he then said very pragmatically, "Well, just turn on the faucet and wash it down!"
In less gross news, I have started showing. Well, it's apparent at least to me, when I'm nude, in front of the mirror. I'm pretty sure that tummy bulge has nothing to do with the two donuts I snarfed this morning on my way to work (I had to make up for the events of last night, right?). My jeans are starting to feel less comfortable to wear all day long, which is a little sad, since I love jeans more than most other things in life. But I've started wearing khaki fieldwork pants, because they "give" a little more when I'm sitting around the office. While I'm too early on to feel any movement yet, supposedly the Navel Orange (Wee Willie's size right now at 16+ weeks) can feel me when I poke and prod at my belly. That's kind of neat. Sometimes I poke a little and then say "This is your Mama! You better behave in there!" Other times I just sit around with my ever-growing belly in my hands and stare, amazed that this is really happening. It is completely unreal.
Exciting news:
Adam and I have been fortunate to have an extensive network of generous and thoughtful friends who have donated/lent their used baby items to us for Wee Willie's comfort and joy. So far, we have amassed many, many clothes, a baby Bjorn, a playmat-with-mobile, carseat, and baby tub from Seth, Sherry, Kai and Quinn; some fantastic books from Sarah and Steve that helped me make the decision to use the birth center; Wee Willie's first baby blanket from Art and Janice; and the ever-necessary cloth diapers from Trixi and Phoenix. Grandma Jayne, Aunt Shannon and Uncle Jake have given Wee Willie its first book, and Grandma Linda and Grandpa Cal sent baby its first spoon. Adam and I are SO excited and extremely grateful. Thanks to you all for your kind gifts and donations and to everyone for the caring thoughts and support.
Last piece of news:
Adam and I have made the command decision to leave the hospital that we've been working with in favor of the local birthing center. After a not-satisfying experience with my ob/gyn, a lot of extensive reading (I highly recommend "The Birth Book" by William & Martha Sears and "The Thinking Woman's Guide to a Better Birth" by Henci Goer) and heeding my own personal beliefs and gut instinct, I've decided to follow human tradition and allow my body to do the work of giving birth, not doctors, nurses, drugs and machines. The birth center is staffed by certified nurse midwives, a doula and a massage therapist. I have a couple of friends who have delivered there and have been extremely satisfied with their birth experiences. Adam and I look forward to ours as well.
So that's it for week 16. Things are good except when I'm puking in the sink; baby is growing and continuing to wreak havoc on my digestive and excretory systems; and Adam and I look forward to good things yet to come.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
I Spoke to Sam Waterston!!!
Well, sort of. He was on NPR's "Talk of the Nation" this afternoon, and since my previous attempts to e-mail a quetion to the live broadcast have always failed, I decided to pursue a different tactic--I sent the e-mail before the show actually started so I'd be among the first they received. Well, it worked. The host asked Sam Waterston my question and he really gave such a nice, nice answer.
If you don't know who he is, Sam Waterston plays the lead prosecutor on the tv show "Law & Order" (original version). While I love his character on the show, I first knew him from the film adaptation of "The Great Gatsby" and from my favorite role of his, Forrest Bedford on the 90s tv drama, "I'll Fly Away." My question asked him how he felt that show ("I'll Fly Away") changed tv and changed his perspective in general. He responded that that role to this day has impacted him and connected him to viewers more than any film or stage role he's ever portrayed. He said he loved the show because it was a good family show and really raised some pertinent issues. He also said that it allowed him to stop being snobbish about being on TV and to realize the power of that media outlet.
So, this post is really for my Mum because I used to watch "I'll Fly Away" with her and I thought she'd appreciate knowing that I got a chance to communicate with one of the great actors in Hollywood today.
If you're at all interested in hearing Sam talk to "me", you can follow this link:
http://www.npr.org/templates/calendar/index.php?prgId=5
On the calendar, click on "9", then click on the link to the Sam Waterston interview. You'll only have to go about 11 minutes into the interview.
If you don't know who he is, Sam Waterston plays the lead prosecutor on the tv show "Law & Order" (original version). While I love his character on the show, I first knew him from the film adaptation of "The Great Gatsby" and from my favorite role of his, Forrest Bedford on the 90s tv drama, "I'll Fly Away." My question asked him how he felt that show ("I'll Fly Away") changed tv and changed his perspective in general. He responded that that role to this day has impacted him and connected him to viewers more than any film or stage role he's ever portrayed. He said he loved the show because it was a good family show and really raised some pertinent issues. He also said that it allowed him to stop being snobbish about being on TV and to realize the power of that media outlet.
So, this post is really for my Mum because I used to watch "I'll Fly Away" with her and I thought she'd appreciate knowing that I got a chance to communicate with one of the great actors in Hollywood today.
If you're at all interested in hearing Sam talk to "me", you can follow this link:
http://www.npr.org/templates/calendar/index.php?prgId=5
On the calendar, click on "9", then click on the link to the Sam Waterston interview. You'll only have to go about 11 minutes into the interview.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Paging Adam M.
Just checking to see if you are reading my blog like you promised you would...personally I think you look pretty manly and rockin' in that pic in the title banner. A good ole-fashioned mountain man, if you ask me. Mmmmm....suddenly I'm really looking forward to you coming home in a couple weeks!
Call me!
Call me!
How Ya Like Me Now?
I just wasted way too much time trying to perfect the new title to this blog. I hope you like it. Actually, for all the time I just put in, you'd better like it.
Have a good rest of your Sunday, folks!
Have a good rest of your Sunday, folks!
Friday, December 5, 2008
Pulling "A Lauren"
Sorry to overwhelm you with posts today, but after reading my friend Katie's blog, www.renakabena.blogspot.com (check it out--it's hilarious!), I was reminded of a post that I've been meaning to write and keep forgetting.
I found out from my friend Sarah a few months ago that she and some other friends have dubbed a certain event "A Lauren". Some years ago, I guess I made the comment that every so often, when I go to the bathroom thinking it's for a #1, a #2 will dash out unexpectedly, all on its own. I must have asked my friends if that ever happened to them. I'm sure I mentioned it because of the inconvenience of it all--you think you're going to have a quick pitstop and then it turns into splashing and more toilet paper and, well you know the drill. Well, I guess it did happen to these friends (or they finally realized it had been happening all along), and recalling the conversation, they started saying, "So, I pulled a Lauren!" I guess I should feel proud that my name is linked with potty behavior, because it is what I find the funniest of all human activities. Now, if I can only get this copyrighted and make a little dime off it...
I found out from my friend Sarah a few months ago that she and some other friends have dubbed a certain event "A Lauren". Some years ago, I guess I made the comment that every so often, when I go to the bathroom thinking it's for a #1, a #2 will dash out unexpectedly, all on its own. I must have asked my friends if that ever happened to them. I'm sure I mentioned it because of the inconvenience of it all--you think you're going to have a quick pitstop and then it turns into splashing and more toilet paper and, well you know the drill. Well, I guess it did happen to these friends (or they finally realized it had been happening all along), and recalling the conversation, they started saying, "So, I pulled a Lauren!" I guess I should feel proud that my name is linked with potty behavior, because it is what I find the funniest of all human activities. Now, if I can only get this copyrighted and make a little dime off it...
Trifling
Does everyone know this word? I seem to remember back in high school using this word and a bunch of classmates not knowing the meaning. Essentially, it means "petty" or "trivial". For example, if I were too lazy to go outside and pick up the paper, and I were to call a neighbor and ask them to come over just so they'd pick up my newspaper on the way in, that would be trifling. Or, if I were going out to dinner with friends and I accidentally-on-purpose forgot my wallet so someone would have to pick up my tab for me--that would be trifling.
There are less intentional versions of trifling, too, though. Like what I heard from my friend Michelle last night. She and her fiance, Micah (both white), are getting married in Memphis, TN this coming April. They hunted around for several places to have the reception, but finally settled on...the Civil Rights Museum in downtown Memphis. She says it has a beautiful banquet hall and hosts lots of receptions and such there. The 'trifling' part comes in now...they're getting married on April 4...the same day that Martin Luther King, Jr. was killed, just a couple blocks from that very spot, some 41 years before. I know I shouldn't have, but I laughed till my sides hurt when I heard that news. Now I REALLY hope that I'll be able to go to the wedding.
There are less intentional versions of trifling, too, though. Like what I heard from my friend Michelle last night. She and her fiance, Micah (both white), are getting married in Memphis, TN this coming April. They hunted around for several places to have the reception, but finally settled on...the Civil Rights Museum in downtown Memphis. She says it has a beautiful banquet hall and hosts lots of receptions and such there. The 'trifling' part comes in now...they're getting married on April 4...the same day that Martin Luther King, Jr. was killed, just a couple blocks from that very spot, some 41 years before. I know I shouldn't have, but I laughed till my sides hurt when I heard that news. Now I REALLY hope that I'll be able to go to the wedding.
The One About The Hat
Sorry for the delay...so many things happened over the holiday (and have been keeping me busy since) that I've been writing this post in stops and starts. Hope you enjoy!
I won't bore you with too many details about the holiday itself--we ended up going to Adam's boss's house for Thanksgiving dinner, which was unexpectedly fun, then had some quality time together for the rest of the evening (*wink*). Friday we spent way too much money with the Black Friday shopping, still managing to get some great deals despite waking up at a reasonable hour to go out. That evening we drove to my sister's and brother-in-law's coffee shop for their Friday night Open Mic Night. Saturday morning we visited two of my gal pals from high school who are also pregnant. Adam actually had a hard time tearing himself away from the pregnancy stories to go hang out with the guys! I was really impressed and flattered that he took such an interest. Saturday evening we spent with my Mum, brother and little nephew, while Mum and I cooked up another T-day dinner. Sunday morning was spent with my Mum, then letting our new GPS unit take us on what-should-have-been-a-2-hour-trip-back-to-the-hotel-but-turned-into-almost-4-hours-on-dark-rainy-backroads-of-Virginia. We got ourselves a nice pizza Sunday night for dinner then got Adam ready for Monday morning class. Monday I spent vegging in front of murder-mystery shows on the "Investigation Discovery" channel; I only tore myself away long enough to take Kika for a walk around town, and to accompany Adam to the doctor to get his sprained knee checked out (he's fine).
The real story was the flight home. Well, first, the flight out. I had Kika with me, who was an absolute doll in her little carrier. I think she actually enjoyed having her little quarters to herself, and she didn't snap even once at all the rude and annoying faces and fingers that made their way eye level with her sanctuary. When I got to the security gate, I did everything right--took off my shoes, and put all my belongings in a bin to pass through the scanner. As per the TSA officer's instructions, I took Kika out of her carrier, sent that through the scanner, and held her in my arms as we walked through the security arch. In previous trips, I've found that if I walk through too fast it doesn't scan me properly so I have to walk through a second time. I figured that with the additional load of Kika in my arms, I'd better walk through a little more slowly to ensure that the both of us were scanned thoroughly. Bad idea. The TSA agent on the other side (literally) yelled at me in front of everyone, saying that I needed to walk normally through the gate, so I had to go through it yet again. This time, I walked as normally as I could, with the eyes of every curious passenger on me and my little dog, as the agent then told me, upon my successful passage, that he thought I was trying to "hide something" because of my previously failed attempt. Indignantly, but with as much respect as I could muster at such a public humiliation, I retorted, "Uh...NO...I thought that if I passed through more slowly the scanner would read me more thoroughly!" Then I got the hell out of there before I pissed anyone off and got delayed by the TSA.
So, then, the flight back home on Tuesday morning. My flight left at 6am, so Ads and I had to get up at 4am in order to shower, dress and get ready to be at the airport by 5am. By the time we got there, the full realization that I was leaving (without Adam OR Kika) had set in and I got teary. Realizing that they'd be here to visit me for Xmas in 2 1/2 weeks made it only marginally better. By the time I'd said good-bye and headed to the ticket counter, I was in foul spirits and still sopping up tears with my sleeve. The ticket counter folks were inappropriately peppy for 5 in the morning. In particular, one tall tall blonde spotted me and started exclaiming about the hat I was wearing. It's one of those hats with ear flaps and tassels; mine has the British flag emblazoned all around it. I got it for Xmas one year from Adam's sister, who lives in England with her family. Well, it definitely hit a nerve with this woman at the ticket counter, who started exclaiming to all of her coworkers, "Look at her hat! Check it out! Isn't it the cutest ever? Omigod, I love that hat!" Then she starts barraging me with questions about it: "Where did you get it? How can I get one?" It was a bit much for so early in the morning, so I mumbled that I'd gotten it from my sister-in-law who is married to a Brit. The woman screams back, "So am I! Omigod!" So I gave her one last look and said, "Well, I guess you'll have to go to England." Almost fainting with enthusiam, she shrieks back, "Well, I'm leaving for England tomorrow!" Well, jolly gee whiz for her.
After NOT passing through security (who knew that fruit jam is a liquid?), I had to go back to the ticket counter, pay $15 to check my bag and then deal with the TSA agents all over again. The woman smugly asked me if I'd checked my luggage as she had me take off my shoes a second time and repeat my walk of humiliation through the arch. After a short wait at the gate, I boarded my plane, only to find (who else?) "hat girl" as my flight attendant. As soon as she saw me, she exclaimed, "Oh, you're the girl with the cute hat!" I tried to muster a smile, but at this point, it was only 6am, and after the hat diatribe, the liquids/gels/lotions/checked baggage fiasco, I was in no mood to talk about my hat. But she was! Everytime she passed me walking down the aisle, she'd murmur, "I just LOVE that hat!" People started twisting around in their seats to stare at my hat. Finally, right before the flight attendants had to "prepare the cabin for takeoff", "hat girl" comes up to me with her camera and says, "Excuse me, but would you mind if I took a picture of your hat so I could show my husband what I want for Christmas?" I wanted to explode in her face, tell her to stop annoying a paying customer, anything to get Ms. Happy-in-the-morning out of my face. But, of course, I didn't. I just mumbled, "sure" and purposely turned my head so the camera wouldn't get a picture of my face, just the hat. She left me alone for the rest of the flight.
In other TSA stories, a friend of mine recently told me how she got stopped at the security gate because of a $30 jar of Aveda hair wax she had in her luggage (isn't wax a solid?). They wouldn't let her go through with it, so she either had to check her luggage or have it thrown out. Well, risking arrest (literally), she deflected the agent's attention to other items in her bag and knocked the offending Aveda wax back into her purse, then quickly closed up everything and marched right through security. Part of me wishes I had her chutzpah; the other part of me says she's going to be arrested one day.
We're getting loads of snow here today--on top of the 4 inches that were on the ground upon my return on Tuesday, we've accumulated an additional 3 inches or snow, and we're supposed to get another 2-3 this weekend. "Walking in a winter wonderland!"
I won't bore you with too many details about the holiday itself--we ended up going to Adam's boss's house for Thanksgiving dinner, which was unexpectedly fun, then had some quality time together for the rest of the evening (*wink*). Friday we spent way too much money with the Black Friday shopping, still managing to get some great deals despite waking up at a reasonable hour to go out. That evening we drove to my sister's and brother-in-law's coffee shop for their Friday night Open Mic Night. Saturday morning we visited two of my gal pals from high school who are also pregnant. Adam actually had a hard time tearing himself away from the pregnancy stories to go hang out with the guys! I was really impressed and flattered that he took such an interest. Saturday evening we spent with my Mum, brother and little nephew, while Mum and I cooked up another T-day dinner. Sunday morning was spent with my Mum, then letting our new GPS unit take us on what-should-have-been-a-2-hour-trip-back-to-the-hotel-but-turned-into-almost-4-hours-on-dark-rainy-backroads-of-Virginia. We got ourselves a nice pizza Sunday night for dinner then got Adam ready for Monday morning class. Monday I spent vegging in front of murder-mystery shows on the "Investigation Discovery" channel; I only tore myself away long enough to take Kika for a walk around town, and to accompany Adam to the doctor to get his sprained knee checked out (he's fine).
The real story was the flight home. Well, first, the flight out. I had Kika with me, who was an absolute doll in her little carrier. I think she actually enjoyed having her little quarters to herself, and she didn't snap even once at all the rude and annoying faces and fingers that made their way eye level with her sanctuary. When I got to the security gate, I did everything right--took off my shoes, and put all my belongings in a bin to pass through the scanner. As per the TSA officer's instructions, I took Kika out of her carrier, sent that through the scanner, and held her in my arms as we walked through the security arch. In previous trips, I've found that if I walk through too fast it doesn't scan me properly so I have to walk through a second time. I figured that with the additional load of Kika in my arms, I'd better walk through a little more slowly to ensure that the both of us were scanned thoroughly. Bad idea. The TSA agent on the other side (literally) yelled at me in front of everyone, saying that I needed to walk normally through the gate, so I had to go through it yet again. This time, I walked as normally as I could, with the eyes of every curious passenger on me and my little dog, as the agent then told me, upon my successful passage, that he thought I was trying to "hide something" because of my previously failed attempt. Indignantly, but with as much respect as I could muster at such a public humiliation, I retorted, "Uh...NO...I thought that if I passed through more slowly the scanner would read me more thoroughly!" Then I got the hell out of there before I pissed anyone off and got delayed by the TSA.
So, then, the flight back home on Tuesday morning. My flight left at 6am, so Ads and I had to get up at 4am in order to shower, dress and get ready to be at the airport by 5am. By the time we got there, the full realization that I was leaving (without Adam OR Kika) had set in and I got teary. Realizing that they'd be here to visit me for Xmas in 2 1/2 weeks made it only marginally better. By the time I'd said good-bye and headed to the ticket counter, I was in foul spirits and still sopping up tears with my sleeve. The ticket counter folks were inappropriately peppy for 5 in the morning. In particular, one tall tall blonde spotted me and started exclaiming about the hat I was wearing. It's one of those hats with ear flaps and tassels; mine has the British flag emblazoned all around it. I got it for Xmas one year from Adam's sister, who lives in England with her family. Well, it definitely hit a nerve with this woman at the ticket counter, who started exclaiming to all of her coworkers, "Look at her hat! Check it out! Isn't it the cutest ever? Omigod, I love that hat!" Then she starts barraging me with questions about it: "Where did you get it? How can I get one?" It was a bit much for so early in the morning, so I mumbled that I'd gotten it from my sister-in-law who is married to a Brit. The woman screams back, "So am I! Omigod!" So I gave her one last look and said, "Well, I guess you'll have to go to England." Almost fainting with enthusiam, she shrieks back, "Well, I'm leaving for England tomorrow!" Well, jolly gee whiz for her.
After NOT passing through security (who knew that fruit jam is a liquid?), I had to go back to the ticket counter, pay $15 to check my bag and then deal with the TSA agents all over again. The woman smugly asked me if I'd checked my luggage as she had me take off my shoes a second time and repeat my walk of humiliation through the arch. After a short wait at the gate, I boarded my plane, only to find (who else?) "hat girl" as my flight attendant. As soon as she saw me, she exclaimed, "Oh, you're the girl with the cute hat!" I tried to muster a smile, but at this point, it was only 6am, and after the hat diatribe, the liquids/gels/lotions/checked baggage fiasco, I was in no mood to talk about my hat. But she was! Everytime she passed me walking down the aisle, she'd murmur, "I just LOVE that hat!" People started twisting around in their seats to stare at my hat. Finally, right before the flight attendants had to "prepare the cabin for takeoff", "hat girl" comes up to me with her camera and says, "Excuse me, but would you mind if I took a picture of your hat so I could show my husband what I want for Christmas?" I wanted to explode in her face, tell her to stop annoying a paying customer, anything to get Ms. Happy-in-the-morning out of my face. But, of course, I didn't. I just mumbled, "sure" and purposely turned my head so the camera wouldn't get a picture of my face, just the hat. She left me alone for the rest of the flight.
In other TSA stories, a friend of mine recently told me how she got stopped at the security gate because of a $30 jar of Aveda hair wax she had in her luggage (isn't wax a solid?). They wouldn't let her go through with it, so she either had to check her luggage or have it thrown out. Well, risking arrest (literally), she deflected the agent's attention to other items in her bag and knocked the offending Aveda wax back into her purse, then quickly closed up everything and marched right through security. Part of me wishes I had her chutzpah; the other part of me says she's going to be arrested one day.
We're getting loads of snow here today--on top of the 4 inches that were on the ground upon my return on Tuesday, we've accumulated an additional 3 inches or snow, and we're supposed to get another 2-3 this weekend. "Walking in a winter wonderland!"
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