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In Her Shoes, Jennifer Weiner

The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove, Christopher Moore

Man, I love this guy. If he can't cheer you up, you're probably dead. Dead to ME anyway, hater.

Check out:

The Bendy Glossary.


In lieu of anything interesting, here is my houseplant: Spiky McHurtyJab.

Friday, March 11, 2005

Remember that one Simpsons episode where Homer pretends to get killed so he gets out of work?

Carl: Oh no! Homer's going over those falls!
Lenny: Oh good! He snagged that tree branch.
Carl: Oh no! The branch broke off!
Lenny: Oh good! He can grab onto them pointy rocks!
Carl: Oh no! Them pointy rocks broke his arms and legs.
Lenny: Oh good! Those helpful beavers are swimming out to save him!
Carl: Oh no! They're biting him, and stealing his pants!

First of all, let's all just take a moment to remember Season 7, back when that show was the best damn thing on television and not written by drunken Mexican burros smashing their hooves against typewriters like it is now. Ahhhh, the good old days, when Sunday night meant a new Simpsons and the latest episode of smoldering repressed sexuality from the X Files. I BELIEVE, MULDER!

Anyway, I kind of feel like life has been dishing out the Oh no! stuff a little too often lately. No, I haven't had my pants stolen by beavers, much as I might secretly enjoy that sort of thing, but one more big downswing and I'm going to get the fucking bends. I don't want to sit here and whine to you in 11-pt-Verdana, but let me just say I could use a major dose of Oh good, and if the fates wouldn't mind letting me be, you know, copacetic for a while before the next Oh no, that would be fine by me.

Enough kvetching.

Or not. Let me bitch about one more thing here - would you believe JB and I are driving all the way down past Eugene tonight, then driving all the way back on Sunday? Groan. I told him that a road trip with me being pregnant was going to involve approximately 9562 rest-area stops, not to mention several million different types of snacks in the truck (representatives will be needed from the Salt, Cheese, Fruit, and Chocolate food groups), but sadly, he was willing to accept those conditions.

Speaking of pregnancy - NICE SEGUE, SELF! - I have my first ultrasound on Monday. I've looked at a bunch of ultrasound images from the 12 week point, and...um...wow, they sure are a mass of unidentifiable staticy blobs. Thank god they usually put those little tags in there that say "foot" or "head" or whatever, because, I don't know, maybe I'm missing some key mothering instinct but I can't figure them out at all. It's like some embarrassing Rorschach test: "Do you see the body?" Um, no, but I see a rabbit eating a brownie, what does that mean, Doctor?

Also, these types of images totally freak me out. Come on, it's not just me, right? That little face is SCARY.

I know it's unlikely, but I'm hoping, just a little bit, that the technician can make a guess as to the gender. At her 10 week ultrasound, my friend Amy's tech told her he thought she was carrying a boy. "He wasn't positive, but dude, he pointed out the frank and beans and it couldn't be denied," she wrote me.

Really, though, I just want everything to be okay, everyone to be healthy and doing fine. And, um, not that I have reason to suspect otherwise, but if there is ONE tiny alien baby in there? Thumbs up for that. Not that two (DEAR), wouldn't be just wonderful (GOD), ha ha, but...yeah, one will be plenty, thanks. I mean, I only have one pair of these:

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