Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

What a wicked and wonderful Christmas this year brought. Wicked only because we were so crazy up to Christmas Eve, it was hard to get into the true holiday spirit. Wonderful because we shared the time with a house full of loved ones. I waved good-bye to the last of the house guests this morning and have spent the entire day just hanging out with darling hubby, who has taken the next two weeks off from work. It is so nice to see him...the past months have been crazy for the both of us. Sigh. I love alone time with him- no housework that's getting done (what needs to be done is another matter all together)-just eating leftovers and watching stuff on the couch.

Right now he's building supports for the new speakers we picked up today. With the change in the living room configuration we are now able to put in surround sound. He is so tickled.

I managed, after two and a half years, to finish the curtains in the office and made new drapes for the living room.

I didn't bake, at all, except a caramel apple pie and a chocolate torte, but the presents we picked for family were big hits this year...so yeah team! It's always nerve wracking to buy for people you love, but don't get to spend a lot of time with. We picked brains for suggestions throughout the year and came up with some nice gifts. And as always, the reverse was true.

Tomorrow I have scheduled a manicure/pedicure with my best friend to celebrate the completion of a good semester...teaching high school for her and finishing the first upper-division semester for me. I can not wait, it's been too long since I had a nice pamper session.

Friday hubby and I are jetting off to the land of Louisiana for a New Year's Eve wedding. Should be fun, right in the heart of Cajun Country. Which reminds me, I have to check the weather and do some laundry...anyway, we'll be bopping around the south for a few days, which is an area of the country I have never explored. I really hope I can eat alligator. I'm not kidding. It's all part of the grand culinary tapestry of our country.

When we get back, I have reading and relaxing to attend to. And extended versions of LOTR to watch, with surround sound.

*Sigh* Life is good.

The Verdict Is In:

Rancid lamb fat smells much worse than fresh asphalt being rolled.

I will not field any questions about my housekeeping abilities.

By The Way...

In reference to the post about the writing workshop class final: I received my last paper in the mail and my professor informed me of my final test score. I got a C.

I hate poetry.

Now I really am going to soak in a tub until Christmas. Grrrrumph.

...

I. Am. Done.

I am going to take a bath. Don't disturb me until Christmas.

Four Down & One To Go

My first final was on December third. A standard mass writing exam where we had to give a close reading of a poem and break down the underlying structures that enforce the overall meaning. How very New Critical of us. I hated it. I am not a poetry fan, I dwell in a universe of snappy dialogue and non-elusive thought. I appreciate the complexities of the style, I admire those who can write it and those who really love it but I am not of that English major camp. I have been know to wax poetic about a new dish at a recently discovered restaurant...but that's hardly the same thing.

Anyway, my personal feelings about poetry aside, I do know how to structure a close reading and examine ideas within the lines. If only they had offered a classic poet, but we had a modern poem in all its free-verse glory to contend with. A verse acting as an answer to a 16th century Spanish poem. Don't get me started on the girl who showed up at the next (and last) class meeting who actually looked up the original poem in all its Spanish glory and brought in the translation and who then proceeded to regale the class for ten minutes (when I could have been having lunch thank you very much) on the differences between the two. Did she know all this during the test? No. Did it matter at this point? No. Then why bother? Because some students are just like that. (Perhaps I'm bothered so much because I used to be that student, but have since realized how annoying it is for everyone else to deal with.)

Anyway...to make this long story a bit shorter, I hated the test, spoke in length about punctuation and voice, and name dropped a bit. In the paper. Because I could. Ha! We, as students, are not allowed to see our grades on the test until after the semester ends. This would require a visit to my professor, and unless my grade is really lower than I am expecting in the class overall, I don't think I'm going to care all that much.

So, I have been on blog break because I have been finishing a slew of end-of-term papers (all correctly cited and noted MLA style Miss A...I thought of you) and projects leaving me with zero motivation to do any other writing. Today I used almost the last bit of brain I have left functioning and took three finals back to back. I tested from 8 am on the nose until I scrabbled my last editing notation at 2:30 pm. I had about a total of an hour and 15 minute break all day. But everything at State is done, hallelujah. I do not have to light rail it over there again until mid January. Woo-hoo!

Tomorrow I finish off Spanish Two with a flourish and then let the holiday madness consume me. I plan on baking oh...about four or five different types of cookies for the holiday visitors and then there is the pickle labeling to be done and the wrapping to complete...all things I dearly love.

Come January, I have a stack of novels to read, full of pithy lines and upfront action. I have baby stuff to acquire and lots of fun home projects. This is the first time I won't be working during my school break, and I plan on enjoying it.

Wish me luck tomorrow...I can't wait to finish this semester off!

First Scare

I no longer feel guilt over my lack of nausea.

I found myself bleeding just a touch, only a small amount...but scary enough...this morning. After frantically calling the doctor, I had to wait for her or the nurse to call me back. She did, while I was in class...and I waited another hour to hear from her again. No big deal, I wasn't bleeding anymore but I was still worried.

Turns out it could be any of several reasons why I spotted a bit. Nothing out of the normal, but I am now on "pelvic rest" which boils down to lots of rest, no heavy lifting or any other activities that could cause stress on the pelvis. For a week. At least it's finals week, and I don't have to carry my really big heavy bag around. Whew!

Yes, stress could be a factor so I am done worrying about the holidays. And Finals. Finals alone will be enough, thank you very much.

I Feel a Little Guilty...

...for many things in my life right now. But mostly I feel guilty for having a good pregnancy. I am. I didn't have the three-month-heaves. I was tired, but I didn't get sore breasts, aching joints, or any other physical symptoms. I feel great right now, and good thing too...right in time for finals.

I feel guilty for feeling good. I have a friend that just went through an awful pregnancy and very hard delivery. We went to visit the baby and just visit in general. I haven't seen her at all since her shower. She was miserable for the first and last three months...and I was told I sounded gloatly (really...I'm not!) when I said how great I felt after being asked, "How are you doing?". I'm sorry. I didn't plan it this way, and I'm just glad to be able to function as well as I am, 'cause school is kicking me across the floor right now.

I've decided that pregnancy is the most personal thing a woman can go through. There are few normals, and even they vary widely from woman to woman. Plus...I don't like to complain if there's nothing really to complain about(those of you who know me are laughing right now...ok...I don't complain as much as I could). I could go into the stressful emotional roller coaster I'm on...most days I want to cry for no reason...lately I've been picking fights with my husband, just to get some of this tension out of me (I'm sorry to you, sweetie, for that). I could talk about bathroom ordeals, but NOBODY wants to hear about that. I could mention a hundred small things, but to what point? Basically, I feel fine and really hope it stays that way.

Right now, all I can really think about is getting through this week and next. Oh, and where my next meal is coming from...boy, am I hungry all the time. (Does that count as a pregnancy complaint?)

A Shout-Out to my Husband

I've had a rough, irrational, emotional day. The stress of end of semester is upon me and homework plus projects keep piling up. In this mode I've been crying off and on all day, disagreeing with everything, unmotivated and a general grumpy pain in the butt. And my husband still loves me.

This is only a short list of the ways in which he shows me that this is true:

He made us breakfast. Yummy fried mashed potato cakes with cheese and green onion. Heavenly.

He sanded the new dining room table.

He's working (right at this moment) on getting our finances straightened out on the Mac version of Quicken so that I can log in and check our balances, pay bills and just be involved in where our money is going.

He shares his plate with me when we go out to eat.

He never yells or loses patience with me when I get grumpy like this. Instead he gives me extra kisses and makes me smile in spite of myself.

He doesn't yell at me, period.

He downloads "Desperate Housewives" every Sunday night so that we can keep current on the season.

He cooked dinner tonight, Cuban chicken and coconut rice, so that I could finish some homework. (Without my even asking...he just did it 'cause he's that kind of guy.)

He doesn't complain when I don't get the housework done.

He vacuums. On a regular basis. Underneath the furniture, too.

He always has a smile for me.

He takes care of my car. He spent a Saturday replacing the brakes. He changes my oil. He only sometimes rolls his eyeballs at the mess I leave in there. (I'm getting better!)

He's going to cook dinner for me for my birthday.

He always kisses me goodnight and has a snuggle for me as well. He never lets me get cold at night and he doesn't mind if I sometimes snore.

His hugs when he comes home from work make my day.

He went to Whole Foods in his pj's, tonight, just to get me carrot cake. Because I wanted some. Even after I've been grumpy all day.

I only have to remember how blessed I am to have such a partner in my life when I feel blue. I know this stress will pass and I'll feel fine again soon...and I know that everything in my life is just easier because my husband is just perfect for me.

Thanks hon. *smooch*

Where Did The Week Go?

Darling Husband was out of town on business for two days at the beginning of the week. I had all sorts of plans and goals to accomplish. Yeah right. I spent Monday night on the couch eating take out Indian food (so so yummy) and watching random recorded shows on the Myth Box. I was up until about 1am. Then about 3am I was awoken from my slumber by a gigantic wind storm rushing through the neighborhood. So very strong it rocked out the gate across the driveway and caused very loud, very scary noises to be made. About 3:15 I got up the courage to look outside and figured out what was going on. Around 3:30 I decided I couldn't "sleep through it" and had to take decisive action. This involved me running outside in my comfy robe and slippers and propping the gate open with a large and heavy rock. Problem solved. The wind still kept me up for the remainder of the night. Sigh.

Tuesday I babysat and chatted with a friend way to late. Nothing but goodwill and friendship accomplished. Oh, I did manage to get the dishes in to the dishwasher before the roommate came home. Whew. That was a lot.

The rest of the week remains a blur. I am now staring Thanksgiving in the face. I'm helping with 30 people in my mom's two bedroom home. Tomorrow I must shop...as I also have the pre-Thanksgiving happy fun time party in the City with friends on Sunday. I am so looking forward to it. It'll be nice to have a great relaxed dinner with friends before the huge production of Thanksgiving with the family happens.

I have come to the realization that Thanksgiving is the biggest production holiday my family does. It is the one holiday my mom hates to give up. She revels in cooking a large fancy meal for bunches of people. Thanksgiving was always a bigger dinner than Christmas or Easter. I too, revel in it now. The prospect of making huge quantities of food for a crowd pleases me. We've been planning this dinner since roughly, July. No joke.

After this, I have to get Christmas planned. It's happening here this year, and the construction on the street has left the house dusty. I'll be cleaning windows and curtains...and making new drapes for the living room...in preparation for Darling's family staying with us.

I have already started my gift shopping, though. When you order on-line, now is the time! OK, I know most of you out there have finished your shopping, but this is good for me. Trust me on this one.


--
...everybody eats when they come to my house!

A Little Salad Crazy

I went grocery shopping for the first time in, like, two weeks on Sunday. It was good. It's very nice to have a wide selection of healthy food options in the house. I did manage to go a touch crazy with one item. I bought four new bottles of salad dressing. Yes, four. This brings my salad dressing total to six in house. I could be a restaurant. Before you judge me a salad dressing loon....let me explain. We eat a lot of salad around here. I need a wide range of flavors to make sure my salad complements the overall tastes of the entire meal. Plus, I hate having to make a dressing every time I want to munch some lettuce. Oil and vinegar only go so far, you know. So...I had to replace the standards, Cilantro Lime and Newman's Own Cesar (the not creamy kind) and I added two new flavors to the line up: Lemon Chive and Goddess. Both are refreshing changes for the palette and plate. So I can salad on with the assurance of good taste. Yum.

*Shopping*

My pants are getting a little snug. Not so much when I put them on in the morning, but I notice it when I sit down or bend over or otherwise use the lower half of my body. Right now it's pretty limited to my jeans, but as cold weather approaches with the walk to school my Capri's aren't going to cut it any more.

Compounding this small problem is the fact that I really don't own a whole lot of pants. How can this be? I worked in a kitchen. I have four pairs of cheffing pants, which at one point in time I wore seven days a week between school and work. No joke. I own more chef clothes than jeans, cause that was the smart way to spend the clothing budget. Last year I splurged on honeymoon wear, but only bought light, packable pants. I think the last time I purchased a pair of regular old blue jeans was three years ago. And those were for work.

There is a reason behind this. I. hate. buying. pants. Especially jeans. It takes me weeks of hunting and shopping and malling...all things I could do without, thank you very much, to find one pair I really like. Then I stick with those until I can not wear them anymore. It has been suggested by some that I buy several pairs of said jeans when I find that right pair...but boys don't understand that girls can not own multiple pairs of the same jeans. Every pair must be slightly different. Every pair serves a slightly different purpose. If the same style came in different washes and you like them all, well, that might be alright, but how often does that happen?

So today I decided to go ahead and take the bull by the horns and go buy some pants. I have been holding out on buying new jeans, because I knew I would be getting pregnancy soon and did not want to have to go through the shopping process twice. I did some Internet looking, to get an idea of what was out there and what other women were wearing and hit the local mall. I was feeling kind of out of it and slightly head-achy...perfect for a shopping expedition. It keeps me focused, and I know if I find something I like when I'm feeling blah it's a real match and not a "feel good" purchase I'll regret later.

I began my journey at Target. Oh yeah. I didn't feel like plunking down the normal $45-$50 for jeans that have only a limited life span. Say, a year...maybe two with another kiddo, but not of constant wear. I'm saving the big spending for maternity/nursing bras. (Yeah...TMI for all my male friends, sorry.) I can usually find some cute things there and they at least have a maternity section (a problem I would encounter later with stores that don't carry any maternity in-house). Big disappointment. Everything that fit the waist dragged on the floor and for some unknown reason, 'boot cut' was huge. I'm not going to be wearing heeled boots and have a baby belly out to there. Plus, boot cut, unless done oh so subtly, leaves my hips and thighs looking enormous. Not pretty. I finally found one pair I could live with after I hem the bottoms. Yeah, the dressing room girl didn't like me very much.

Next stop...Old Navy. This used to be a haven for me and regular jeans, so I thought I'd give maternity a shot. I like the fact that they give you options like short or regular inseam (short please!) and have little tags that tell the expectant mother which trimesters the pants are good for. I was going for the whole package, 1-2-3 (also good for post birth!) as I'm just about out of my first trimester and wanting to get the most wear out of the pants. Back to not wanting to have to do this all over again. I found one pair I could live with. Actually, they are very cute and I really like them...but one pair. Out of the six I tried on. Out of the dozen I searched through. One pair. This is how picky I am and this is why I don't take anyone with me when I shop serious for clothes. At least I found a 'short' pair. No hemming required.

Now I was beginning to feel really frustrated. I had wanted to acquire at least three pairs of jeans...and I had exhausted the know shopping stops. I tried a big national store. Not one singe piece of maternity clothing. I was surprised, given the amount of children's clothes they carried.

I decided to wander the mall and see what jumped out at me. What I found was Motherhood Maternity. An entire store devoted to pregnant women. No $200 pants in sight (A Pea In The Pod really really charges $200 for a pair of maternity jeans). I was stoked. The staff was super friendly and helpful, plus the fitting rooms were outfitted with little strap-on tummy pillows to help you visualize the pants as the baby gets bigger. Cool. I just did the good old stretch them out test, worked just fine. I ended up with another pair of super comfy jeans and a bonus pair of green cargo pants. The cargo pants are rather large...I won't be wearing them for at least another month...but the jeans are going to go into immediate rotation. Much happiness. Of course, I am now on their mailing list and who knows what kind of scary baby related stuff is going to show up. I've been promised two issues of 'Parents' magazine and samples of Huggies. Great. But I really like the jeans. I might even break my rule and go get another pair. Just like the first. I'll just have to remember when I wore which where.

Alright...

...the hot dog cart smelled really really good this afternoon.

The Worst So Far...

I hate to complain, but I'm going to do just that for the next little bit. Small...but getting really annoying.

I have come to the conclusion that the worst part about this pregnancy, so far, is the heightened sense of smell. I smell everything. Most of it is bad. I've always had a fairly good sense of smell. That's why I have a pretty good sense of taste. I also have a really keen smell memory...did you know that smell is the strongest memory trigger?...but I digress. Now I have the nose of a bloodhound. At first, it was so cool to walk somewhere and smell things I never had before. It was fresh, exciting and fun. One memorable day was when I could smell the laundry detergent used to wash a young man's clothes standing across from me on light rail. Nice and clean. Food smelled the best, fresh herbs, cooking chicken, the grocery store was amazing!

Now it has all gone bad. Very very bad. It began with me. I began to smell bad to myself. Strong and different. I sat in class, worried that I smelled like a street person...but when I would ask hubby dear if I smelled bad (who else could I ask?) the answer was always "no". My clothes began to smell to me. Even clean ones had a lingering odor. Then the towels. Yuck! Freshly laundered, it's alright, but let them sit in the linen closest for a week...stink city. Now it's my entire house. I've gone through an entire bottle of Frebeeze in the past week trying to eradicate smell. I know it's clean. The carpets were steam-cleaned two weeks ago. I've washed all the couch covers. The kitchen has been scrubbed top to bottom, the cupboards cleaned out, the floor mopped. The bathroom was done the same way...the fixtures sparkle. There is just something wrong with my nose.

Food does not smell the same anymore. Things I used to love are now too strong. Rosemary, my dear herb friend, smells bitter. Garlic is sour. Sweets still smell good...and baked products and fruit...but everything else is slightly off. Taste is getting weird too. I thought the heightened sense of smell would make food taste so much better. At first it did, but now I have to be so careful with seasoning and saucing. I don't like saucy food anymore. I find the sauce to be overwhelming. Plain, clean, and simple, tastes are best to me right now.

The up side, good smells still smell really, really good. But the down side is killing me. There are bad smells everywhere...and bad smells trigger the slight quaking, queasy nausea that I dislike. I feel like an ocean voyager who has never quite gotten her sea legs. Not really sick...but not 100% either. If this is the worst of it, alright. I have a three more weeks before the food cravings start gearing up. We'll see what my nose decides to do then.

*yawn*

I am so tired today, I can not function. I had the worst dreams last night, the angry horrible ones where you're fighting with someone and beating on them because you're so angry. Why am I angry? I don't know. Now I feel like I've gone 10 rounds with the heavy-weight champ.

I also dreamed I was given the female lead in a Shakespeare play, but no one knew I was pregnant, and I didn't want to turn down the role, but I knew I would be very big by the time of the production, and I would not fit the costume or character. Somehow, National Security was involved, and all the actors got passes to fly through any "No Fly Zones". It's a good thing I have an active night life, cause my day life just drags.

Blah. Later I have to brave the wilds of IKEA, then onto the traditional Hallow e'en party. The party will be fun, if I have enough sugar soda to stay awake!

I'm going to work on a paper...yuck...and try to get a quick nap in sometime today. Wish me luck.

The Great Black Hunters

The cats, or I should say one of the cats, has taken to leaving us small gifts sometime during the course of the night. At first, when the dear, dead creatures would show up, it was debatable as to which cat loved us so. We've come to the conclusion that it is our little wild beastie, Violet, who has the talent of the chase.

A couple of nights ago, Hubby was awoken from slumber by the pitter-patter of small clawed feet scrabbling across the kitchen floor. As this is not a normal sound, he went to investigate. There he saw the wee beastie playing with her new toy, a rat. Hubby said that it wasn't a large rat, and she quickly disposed of it, and he then put the rat into its final resting place.

This morning I was on my way to the shower when I noticed a nice dead mouse laying close to our bedroom door. Sigh. Not the nicest way to wake up in the morning. I was a good girl and got rid of it myself, so Hubby didn't have to.

So far her count is: three mice, one rat and one bird. That one was fun, woke up to feathers all over the living room. Black feathers everywhere. No body pieces...except the head and all those feathers.

I dread the morning, when I first step outside our room. I'm glad they have their animal instincts, they are predators and need to hunt, but ick...I wish they'd leave it outside. I guess it's better than spraying the carpet or tearing up the furniture. Her efforts have stepped up in the past few days. Any time now we're expecting to see a squirrel. That would be worth something. For now as long as she doesn't leave them in the house alive, I guess I'll deal. But, it's still ick ick icky!

First Time

This afternoon is my official first doctor appointment. I've been waiting a month for this...hubby and I are very excited. It's about to become very real for the both of us. I am hoping and praying that everything is all right, the babes is attached in the right place and everything is progressing as expected. We've been assured that we'll have the first sonogram today as well. I can't wait to see the little creature that's growing into our baby. Technology is so very amazing.

Just keep your fingers crossed that we only find one in there...not two!

The strangest thing for me right now is the feeling that I'm 13 or 14 again. You know how it was. I'm not so comfortable with my body right now, we'd been having a great relationship the past few years, and now it just has a mind of its own. I'm breaking out like mad, my hair is so greasy, and my boobs are actually getting bigger. Yup. It's puberty all over again. I wasn't quite prepared for this side effect, but oh well...I guess I get to be a teen all over again for the next couple of months. God is really funny at times...I was never one of those women who longed to go back to her happy adolescent days (of course, I know very few women who would). I know I turned out fine the last time, so hopefully this second 'childhood' will be fine as well.

Gawk. I just really hate having to buy the anti-wrinkle pimple cream this time around.

OK...wish me luck! I'll be sharing news later!

Still Working

A clean house is a happy house. Mine is only midly amused right now.

Up and Down

So yesterday, the queasiness in my tummy migrated and became a spinning in my head. It made my final in Spanish I very interesting.

Today, I am house cleaning. I'm wondering if the spinning will stay in my head (fun with fumes) or move back into the tummy (more fun with fumes).

For now I will eat a bowl of Malt-O-Meal and not worry about it.

Gentlemen, and Ladies, Place Your Bets Please

It has been decreed by g-Mom One that the little one who has no name as of yet is a boy. Actually the conversation went something like this:

(Middle of talking about something else, not baby related...)

g-Mom One: You know you're having a boy, right? Even though I'd prefer a girl, they're much more fun to dress, but boys are easier."

Me: I don't think so.

g-Mom One: You could be right, but I'm hardly ever wrong about these things.

As random as it sounds...it was actually very cute. And scary. She's right, she's hardly ever wrong about these things. Funny thing is...I'm not far enough along to even begin the battery of "old wife tale" tests to determine the sex of the baby before birth. I know that science can accurately predict these things, but where is the fun in that? Hubby and I are going for the old-fashioned surprise. Plus, we like the challenge of picking out two sets of names.

There is a point here somewhere...oh yeah...so now that the gauntlet has been thrown down, I'm ready to take bets on the sex of the baby. It's too early to look for things like, how low am I caring, or what way does the pendulum swing, and my favorite, the pee-in-bleach test (fun! and good smelling too!) but anyone who wants to weigh in may. I haven't decided on any prizes yet, and as time goes by, we might have to modify the game to sex, plus birth weight and length...just so there is one clear winner. But, I'll have to get somewhat bigger before y'all can speculate on that.

Have fun and happy betting! Remember, only the bean knows for sure.

Every Campus Has One...

you know the eccentric student who makes a statement simply by being there. We have "Boom Box Girl" at SJSU. The comment I heard today, the one that made me realize that BBG is somewhat of an institution was from two sorority-type girls..."There she goes. You can always hear her before you see her."

As snotty as these girls were, they were not far off base. You see, BBG has made it her mission while at State to share her love of eclectic music with the rest of the campus. She is not an i-Pod bopper, not BBG. She is old skool all the way. She rides around campus in the morning usually, although I have heard her in the afternoon as well, on a tricycle (adult size...don't think Shriner's here) with a huge basket in the back wearing a backpack whose sole purpose in life is to carry her very large, very loud, and I might add very clear-sounding, boom box. The boom box is loaded with a strange, and sometimes pleasing, mix cd of what I'm guessing to be her favorite musical styles. One day it's the Beastie Boys followed by...get this...Frank Sinatra. One day it's pretty hard core new rock with a touch of English pop thrown in. Today it was almost exclusively seventies disco. "Ring My Bell" played a large part in my head today.

She must make a new cd for everyday. Not once have I heard a repeat. She glides around on her three big wheels...happy as can be...back and forth across campus sharing her love of music.

Like I said...this is college life and I gotta enjoy it while I can. :0

Guilty Pleasures

It started off so innocently. Everyone was doing it. It was just a fun past time...now it has become an obsession spiraling out of control. Yes friends, I mean the daemon Baby Board. Sigh. I'm wondering if the anonymity of e-mail-esque posts and heavily hormonal women is really such a good idea. I'm coming to the conclusion it's not, but at this point I am addicted to the train wreck soap opera that is real life. Perhaps if I had TV I could wean myself off the Board by watching something awful on VH1 or MTV.

Oh well. At least none of them can really track me down, but lord help me if they find this blog!

I'm feeling very icky today as well...tired, queasy stomach and sore swollen mouth. Hard to tell what's baby and what's cold. Sigh. Nothing to do but wait it out. It probably makes my patience thin, though. I want to only whine about myself, and not read some other persons whine. Whine whine.

OK...I'm going to end this before I alienate even myself.

I Need A Drink

And I can't have one. *sigh* Instead, I will make myself a non-fat banana milkshake and call that good. I might even go for the chocolate swirl. Crazy.

Meeting a Legend

Last night I was able to meet a man I adore through his works. Neil Gaiman did a reading/Q&A/book signing in Berkley and of course I had to go. It was fantastic. The reading was incredible, he has a terrific speaking voice. Very nice, very relaxing, very sexy, even (that last part was the general consensus, so not just me). During the Q&A, his humor came across so well. He writes very much like he speaks. It was wonderful to experience the "unscripted voice" and have it match the one in my head, the one I hear when I read him. As I was having my books signed, I managed to say nice things without, hopefully, coming across as a total spazz-case. I would not have traded going to the event for anything.

I have quiet obsessions...no one is ever going to place me in the category of 'Fan' with a capital 'F'. His writing has been a source of much happiness for me over the years. It has inspired me, in small ways, and given me much to think about and enjoy. So the opportunity just to hear him read and to have him tell me, "Thanks for reading and thanks for coming out" was really very special. And I now have a new Neil Gaiman novel to relish. *Happy Sigh* Life is good.

It's here...

...and I'm ready for it. Time to be a mommy, and I am so excited!

School has been so weird this week, full of ups and downs. I had my first major test in grammar. I think I did well on some parts, and bombed others. I got a C- on a piece of homework I turned into editing. Sigh. I haven't seen a C, much less a C- since High School. Usually, if I do it, I do it well. But editing is something I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around. Go figure, I have to justify all my bullshit, remember a list of rules, apply them correctly...and check spelling! Akk! Good thing I'm not looking at doing this as my career...I'd have to figure out something different fast! On the plus side, I did very well on my first big paper in Lit Crit. A-. Technical difficulties, go figure. Oh, and spelling out 'coma' in place of 'comma'. Huge difference!

My mind hasn't really been on school though...it's baby baby baby. We've known for less than a week...and already I have so many questions...I want to know so many things. I've been making baby stuff lists, looking at Craigslist for deals, dreaming of staying home and just being mommy.

These next few months are going to fly...everyone recommends keeping a journal of some sort, so this might turn into a pregnancy journey journal...with the rest of my life thrown in. We'll see. I have to wait almost a full month before I go see my Doctor and see how things are progressing. I think we might do the first ultrasound...I think it will really sink in then. Right now it's still so new and shiny. I love it.

You Are Likely a First Born

At your darkest moments, you feel guilty. At work and school, you do best when you're researching. When you love someone, you tend to agree with them often. In friendship, you are considerate and compromising. Your ideal careers are: business, research, counseling, promotion, and speaking. You will leave your mark on the world with discoveries, new information, and teaching people to dream.

The Birth Order Predictor

Now the question is...did I skew this test to get the correct anwser? The world may never know...

Kind of Creepy...

I decided to be counter-culture today. Counter for SJSU, anyway. I should preface this by stating that I have an intense dislike for flip-flops. It all began way back in San Diego. I thought I had left them in that den of Cali casual, but no. They are everywhere, ruining my wonderful sense of 'Fall'. Not to mention my sensibilities. I understand that flip-flops have their place...Saturday morning run to the grocery store or even, *gasp* at the beach. But I don't want to always be looking at the feet of my fellow students. Which brings me to my little rebellion.

In an effort to act like a college student and run against the grain of society, I wore my big bad-ass paratrooper boots to school today. Oh yeah. Laces over the calf, just under the knee. Rounded point toes. Heavy black leather. Tough, don't-mess-with-me boots. Under a lovely flowing linen peasant skirt that goes just below the knees. And a clingy black top. The perfect combination of "militant" and "feminine".

I was all over it on campus today. Clomping around in a graceful way...skirt flowing boots stomping. I got noticed in the English department. They all knew they were dealing with an anti-flip-flop revolutionary. I was hot.

I only wish the construction crew working right outside my door hadn't been so interested in me when I got home this afternoon.

Is It Normal?

I am so tired right now. I must be getting old. I ate too much last night, didn't drink close to the amount I used to at these wonderful dinner parties and have been bone dead tired all day. *sigh* It's hot and it takes too much energy to move...in any case...had a lovely dinner last night. We entertained a couple with young children. The evening was great, the company fabulous the conversation sparkling and the kids a delight. But by 10:30 p.m. I was ready to fall asleep. It's just not the same as it used to be...a bunch of twenty-somethings gathered around a make-shift table in the living room, plates piled high and balanced dangerously with bottles of beer and glasses of wine. Everyone eats, drinks, and talks too loud waaay into the night. Even those evenings are a far cry from the informal gatherings I would have as a barely twenty-something late at night after a dinner shift working at the restaurant...where chips and salsa and mixed drinks were the call of the hour and we'd go until dawn...

it must be the slowing down of old age and i don't really care for it

I hope my friends still invite me out when I have a small child. I hope that someday I will regain the power to stay up all night. I'm only afraid that by the day that comes, I'll be too old to enjoy it.

At least one thing hasn't changed. I still get the Sunday evening blues.

Day Two...

I have the Light Rail situation well in hand now. Whew! I am a person who can navigate, as long as I don't deviate from the norm, I'll be OK. I even managed to figure out the easy way to get home. Note to self...asking questions is not a sin.

Having figured the commute out, I was free to take note of my fellow passengers today. Why are we so afraid of silence? A large majority of the train passengers either are on their cell phones the entire ride, or are plugged into some kind of music device...mp3, iPod, even old school CD Walkman...I saw one kid yesterday who had some kind of large DVD looking player blaring the worst death/speed metal I have heard in ages...I almost asked who they were, I couldn't figure out why it was so bad...but I digress.

Silence. There is a lack of silence pervading our society today. Are the thoughts you think when you're alone rocking along with the morning commute or even walking across campus to your next class so frightful that they must be drowned out? Is there something wrong with simply enjoying the free flow of thought, or even of just listening to the sounds your feet make on the pavement? I do this all the time. Right now, I'm typing in silence, enjoying the click of the keyboard and capturing my thoughts. Don't get me wrong, I love music. There is a place for music and conversation. They both make life much more enjoyable. What troubles me is the dependence on outside sources to constantly fill our head spaces. In order to really enjoy a conversation or even really appreciate a piece of music, I think that every once in a while you have to live inside your own head. Get to know your own silence, embrace it.

Perhaps I'd feel different if I had an iPod. But for now, I will embrace my silent train ride and give my thoughts free reign for at least 15 minutes out of every day.

Back to the stacks of homework waiting for me. *sigh*

It was a day of many "firsts" for me, but I have managed to survive. The first day at SJSU. I am now a very small fish in a very large pond. No warm fuzzies from my professors, no "Glad to see you back" greetings from classmates, no knowing exactly where I am and where I am going. Nope. Just a load of first weekend back homework. And I signed up for this??

The other first was my trip to school. Living as close as I do, it just didn't make sense to pay $200 (!) for a parking pass that doesn't even guarantee a spot...and it takes 45 min to an hour to get that figured out...yikes! Included in the fees I have to pay already is a VTA pass. So, I get ride public transportation for "free" all semester long. whoo-hoo. Only thing that gave me pause was the fact that I have never ventured out on the San Jose public transit system. It's not that I've never ridden public transportation...I've done CalTrain, BART and even MUNI. I've ventured out in foreign countries. I'm not scared of public transport...it's just never made sense to me in San Jose. Also, I am addicted to driving my car. So, on to Light Rail. I wanted to do a "test run" as I am hopeless with spatial relationships. I have a really hard time telling my left from my right, let alone map reading and the whole compass rose thing. But everyone said it was too easy to get to SJSU. Hop on at the station close to home, hop off at Santa Clara and walk three short blocks and wham! I'm at school in half an hour or less. Yeah. So, I get on this morning just fine. I can at least tell which direction downtown is. I hop off at Santa Clara and walk three blocks. In the wrong direction. I should have known something was wrong when all the other backpack toting adults got off at the station before me. Great. I'm looking for a giant campus in the middle of town. I'm wandering...kind of in the right direction now...but can not figure out where I am. Really. I don't hang in downtown. If I do, it's at night, it's dark and there is alcohol involved. I'm useless at 11:00 am. Now I'm getting desperate. I'm worried I'm going to be late for class...a first day sin if ever there was one. It's getting warm, my back is getting sweaty from fear and a large black backpack, and I still don't know where the hell I'm going for sure. I am on the verge of tears (and of calling my poor long suffering husband for directions, not for the first time ever, but certainly for the first time while I'm on foot) when I stumble, almost by accident, onto the back side of the college. I was saved. All that was left was for me to navigate the "small" campus and get to class...sufficient to say I made it just in time. Good thing I gave myself an hour for all this scrabbling around.

I hope tomorrow goes better.