Happy New Year

Happy New Year
Originally uploaded by countmockula

This is what New Year's Eve looks like when you're 7 months pregnant.

Happy New Year, everyone. I'm not doing much of a reflection, because I kind of did it at Thanksgiving, but obviously 2007 was pretty awesome, and I'm looking forward to even more awesomeness in 2008. I hope for awesomeness for you and yours as well.

If you need a housesitter or pet sitter

can I recommend my mom?

Not only did she feed and water the cat, she sat and gave her love every day, too.

She also hung the bathroom cabinet she gave me for Christmas (no small feat, it sounds like).

And laundered my towels and hung up the new ones she gave me for Christmas.

And touched up the paint on the ceiling in the baby's room.

And put away the painting stuff that had been crowding the closet in there.

She rules.

Here is the sign outside Pea Soup Andersen's. See? It's kitschy and fun.


This is one of the views from our room at the Jabberwock.


Here's another. Really can't complain, right?


Here's that tub I was telling you about!


This will give you a bit of an idea of the decor.


Here's the mural in the WC. I know you can't see it, but it's looking-glass-ified. The "Dee" and "Dum" on their collars are written in mirror writing.


A large mural around the room is also in mirror writing. It reads "And the mome raths outgrabe," a quote from Jabberwocky.


I didn't take too many pictures at the aquarium this time, but this one of all four otter pups playing was too good to resist.


On Cannery Row, there is an "As Seen on TV" store.


A cool-looking seabird on the beach at Asilomar.


Also at Asilomar. Aww, don't you just want to smack us?


Here's a monarch we spotted at Natural Bridges.


And finally, this was that clothing store in Santa Cruz. I'll have to go back when they're open. And I have money. And I'm a size 4. Come to think of it, I may not have to go back.


Not a great picture of the outfit, but neat reflection effect, huh?


Aaaaaand... that's all, folks!

Wrap-up

After dinner last night, we went back to the hotel and read some more. This morning we had every intention of going to Scotty's Cafe at the Sash Mill, but when we got there it was Bruno's BBQ at the Sash Mill, and neither "Bruno" nor "BBQ" sounded very promising to me, but we stopped and decided to at least look at the menu. As it turns out, the menu is almost exactly the same is it was, so we just ate there. And then we did go to the Pacific Cookie Company warehouse, mainly just because it's fun to get self-serve cookies at 6 for a dollar. Then it was a fairly easy drive home (I worried there might be holiday traffic, but we didn't hit even one slowdown. Yay! Now I am lounging in my jammies watching the baby do backflips (I swear, my belly is jiggling like a bowl full of Jell-O). Next up are pictures, but we took about a billion, so I have to upload them, sort through them, and then post, so it might be a while.

Santa Cruz

(This was written in installments, as there's no WiFi in the room in Santa Cruz.)

Babymoon day 3!

Last night we just hung around the Jabberwock talking to folks. The owners just bought it in August, and they were very pleasant people. The woman had even recently relocated her mother from Colorado to Monterey, a few blocks from the inn, and her mother was there in the evening, enjoying hors d’oeuvres with us. Neither of us were very hungry after the Persian Grill, but I had to eat something, so we asked about places to eat, and they recommended Tillie Gort’s, a local vegetarian place. It was only about 8 blocks away, but we drove, as it was cold and my back has been very cooperative thus far, so I thought I’d reward it (or at least not challenge it further).

Tillie Gort’s looked like the hippie cafe in Anytown, USA. I briefly thought it looked like we were on the set of Northern Exposure. All I really wanted was a bowl of soup, and they had vegetable rice soup, so there you have it. Sweetie and I both had a bowl of soup, and it was perfectly pleasant. If I were to go back there (and I would), I’d sample further from the menu, which was actually extensive, and quite a bit of it looked good. They also had a big dessert case with several kinds of vegan treats.

After dinner, we retreated to the room again (well, it’s so comfy!) and read for a bit, then took a bath. I'll post pictures later, and you'll see why -- there's an enormous jacuzzi tub in the room!

This morning we ate breakfast at the Jabberwock (a fruit-filled croissant and a cheese souffle -- can you say rich?) and spoke at length with the older hippie couple across from us. There were five couples at the table, and all of them were pleasant, but the ones right across from us, well, the woman was from Eugene, Oregon. They knew the owner of Saturn Cafe (which we’re looking forward to tonight). We were able to chat about Hawaii and jellyfish and sharks and tigers... it was fun.

We then checked out and drove down Ocean View Drive past Lover’s Point and towards Asilomar. There, we got out, poked at tidepools, saw seals (we think), and just generally enjoyed the waves and the slightly misty air. Finally, we turned around and headed up Highway 1 towards Santa Cruz. I thought it would be more... oceany, but a lot of it is straight through agricultural fields. When we got here, we went immediately to Natural Bridges State Beach. We stopped briefly inside the visitor’s center, then walked down the trail to the butterfly trees. At first, we didn’t see any. Apparently, when it’s this cold, it’s hard for them to fly. But then we saw one (well, because another crowd of people was pointing at it!), and then another, and another. It wasn’t ever quite a swarm, but we did see quite a few, and got some good close-ups.

We thought about going downtown, but parking was really jacked-up, so we came and checked into the motel instead. We’ve been here a bit, Sweetie napping and I reading, and I suspect we’ll try downtown again in a little while. There’s no wireless here, so I don’t know when I’ll be posting this, but I’m writing it on Saturday afternoon.



Robbed! I was robbed, I tell you! (7:15 Saturday)

After resting a bit, we did go downtown, where I primarily spent time in the bookstore. I didn’t even go into Sock Shop Santa Cruz or the couple of stationery stores I like. A lot of the stores I used to like have closed down. The toy store is a huge loss. I didn’t go into Camoflauge, my favorite lingerie store, because, well, it’s a little pointless at the moment (although when I said that to Sweetie, he got bonus points by telling me I’m still sexy). I bought several new books, although I resisted buying ones I thought people might buy me for my birthday, like the new Bill Bryson that I want very desperately, not that I’m hinting (the one on Shakespeare, but I want the Africa one, too). Anyway, after a bit of walking around, we headed back to the car and to Saturn Cafe (we could have just walked, but we were in a metered spot). I got the Western Fakin’ Cheeseburger (which has apparently been renamed the Space Cowboy, which caused me a moment of panic) and Sweetie had taquitos, which answered a question we’ve had for a while: is their other food as good as their fake burgers? Apparently, yes. Anyway, this is where the robbing came in -- Saturn Cafe serves one of my favorite desserts ever, that cardinal sin of gluttony known as Chocolate Madness. Don’t fuck with Chocolate Madness; it’s a brownie topped with chocolate ice cream, chocolate mousse, whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and tiny chocolate chips. But I didn’t order one. You know why? ‘Cause I was full! I couldn’t eat another bite. I couldn’t eat the half order. I couldn’t even finish my dinner! There was no debate, even. The guy brought the check, and that was that. D’oh! My only hope now is that maybe later this evening I’ll get hungry again and we can go down the street to Marianne’s Ice Cream and get a cone of Mexican chocolate. Or bittersweet chocolate.

After dinner we drove to the wharf, played a video game in the arcade, watched two dorks play Dance Dance Revolution, then walked to the end of the pier. This is when I start to feel less like a cute alterna-chick with a “bump” and more like a big giant whale of a pregnant lady. I had to stop and rest on the way to the end, and stop and rest on the way back. I sat on a bench that was wet, because I had to sit down. I have that distinctive side to side waddle. I go “oof” when I sit down in the car.

Sunday morning

I did go out for ice cream last night. Sweetie didn’t want any, and the ice cream shop is about two blocks away, so I just ran out and got it and came back. It was good, too, although they didn’t have the Mexican chocolate I was hoping for (I got chocolate and peanut butter).

Last night I finished one of my new books, I’m Too Sexy for my Volvo. It’s a pregnancy/mothering book with an emphasis on “how to stay fabulous.” It was a fun read, although I won’t take all the advice (stay in the hospital as long as possible? Please! I’ve tried to sleep in hospitals, and it couldn’t possibly be any better than having a colicky newborn nearby.)

Today I’m afraid I’m going to have to take it extra-easy. I hurt something yesterday that I wasn’t sure could be hurt. I actually slept pretty well last night until about 6:30am. I had to get up for a potty break, and Zadie started her morning calisthenics. (And I’m as maternal as anyone, probably more so, but seriously it’s hard not to think of that scene in “Alien” when the flesh of my stomach starts moving, apparently of its own volition.) But when she calmed down, I still couldn’t go back to sleep, because every a-hole in the building started stomping around in cuban heels, rolling their roller bags down the stairs, slamming doors, honking horns, talking in the halls, and playing the percussion line from “Inna-gadda-da-vida” on the wall adjoining our room.

Sunday evening

So much for taking it easy! We had breakfast at the Walnut Street Cafe, which is one of our regular spots, then walked down Pacific, the main street downtown, a bit more. I went into all the stores I missed yesterday, like Paper Visions (where Sweetie bought me a bracelet I coveted), Graphfix, Sock Shop Santa Cruz, Urban Outfitters (remind me to look for the Alice in Wonderland plates I saw there)... We also went to a store (I'll post pictures later) where Sweetie browsed soccer jerseys, and next door had the HOTTEST vintage-y naughty secretary clothes. We went back to the hotel briefly, then decided to go to the beach.

First the good news: It was a BEAUTIFUL, perfect Santa Cruz day. It was almost 60 degrees, sunny, and you could see Monterey across the bay. We walked along West Cliff drive and saw surfers. Natural Bridges is a great beach, with expanses of sand and gentle surf. People were flying kites and running in the surf. It was perfect. On the way back to the car, we even (no kidding) saw dolphins! Like, not "Is that driftwood or is that a dolphin?" but "Hey, look, dolphins!" They were jumping around and showing off their dorsal fins. It was awesome.

The bad news is that OH MY GOD, my whole pelvic region has never hurt this badly in my entire life. Things are sore that I didn't realize were capable of being sore. Things are... weird. Oh my gosh, bless Tylenol. This baby is going to be born with a wad of cotton in her ears and a plastic seal around her forehead from all the Tylenol I've been taking. And it's sneaky -- likt, right now? I'm sitting down, and feel fine. But when I move or try to stand up, I have been quite literally whimpering. I am sure I am the most fabulous traveling companion right now. An eighty year old woman totally passed us on our walk. And Sweetie is a natrually fast walker -- he's been very patient, but it must feel like he's shackled to a boulder.

Anyway, now we've had a sushi dinner that was okay. (The service was kind of lame -- I'm used to being able to order one roll or two-piece, then order more later, but the waitress brought my roll, then stolidly refused to make eye contact until she brought the check. I hope Sweetie wanted water, because she asked me what I wanted to drink, then walked away.) And now we have finished gelato at a gelato and Wi-Fi place, and I have to get moving, because our parking meter is about to expire.

I hope you're all well, and we'll be home tomorrow. After breakfast at Scotty's Cafe at the Sash Mill and perhaps some Pacific Cookie Complany cookies straight from the warehouse.

Babymoon day 2

Hello! We did indeed eat at Montrio last night, and had a delicious dinner. Sweetie's been teasing me because I can't finish my meals lately, but I've got a person taking up the space where my stomach used to be! It's like a human lap band. We came back to the Jabberwock and ate chocolate chip cookies, and then read in bed.

Today we got up and had breakfast here (a fruit plate and a very rich bread pudding, plus "Jabber Juice" -- yes, I fully intend to give myself gestational diabetes), then walked to the aquarium. It was the most crowded I have ever seen it. Must be Christmas break! We couldn't even get near the kelp forest display when the diver was in it. We did, however, spend some time in the new "Wild About Otters" exhibit. They're damn cute, and they're so playful. They were wrestling and goofing off while we watched. We spent a couple hours there, then walked down Cannery Row a bit (which is mostly populated by shit-peddlers, but whatever). Then we came back to the Inn. Neither of us was hungry, although it was lunch time, so we read and rested for a while, then walked down to Lighthouse Avenue, where we stopped into Olio Vintage Fun. It was a very small antique store that looked like it had gone to some trouble to find "fun" items, like toys and games and cheesy old cookbooks. Naturally, there were several things I liked but couldn't justify purchasing. We then walked down the other way down Lighthouse in search of food, and settled on Persian Grill. I just wanted something small, so I had a kookoo (like a quiche or frittata) appetizer with a side of rice and mast-o-khiar (sort of tzaziki-like). I also had a mint tea, which they served with cardamom rock candy, which was cool. Sweetie had fesenjon, which he said was better than his mom's (don't tell her).

Now we're chilling again. We both are more full than we expected, so dinner may be light (and may even consist of the appetizers they serve here). We also haven't decided what to do with our time -- we could go into Pacific Grove, into Carmel, back to the old part of Monterey, to the butterfly grove, to the beach... There are so many options! It's also really pleasant here -- quiet and confortable. So who knows? Anyway, I'll keep you updated.

Oh! But I don't want to forget the cute thing that happened yesterday. Whilst standing in line at Pea Soup Andersen's, I saw a little girl (about 6) come in with her grandmother. She looked at me, sort of up and down. I smiled at her, and as her eyes came to rest on my belly, they widened and her jaw dropped. She looked at me in wonder, as though I were a Disney Princess come to life. She did that thing kids do; she stopped dead in her tracks and only resumed forward motion when nudged by her grandmother, but she never took her eyes off me until they went around the corner. A few minutes later, she and the grandma came back, and she was still fixated on me. Just before they reached the door, I saw her screw up the courage to say something: "I hope your baby is beautiful!" I smiled beatifically, feeling like the Pope, as I thanked her. And then the door closed behind her and she was gone. Isn't that sweet, though?

Babymoon!

Well, we left home this morning, destination: Monterey. We planned a last trip for just the two of us before the baby comes, and a few weeks ago I saw in the paper that such a trip is called a "babymoon." How appropos, then, that we are spending it in the same place we spent our honeymoon.

We stopped in Santa Nella, which was also apparently where half the rest of the population of California stopped today on teh way home from visiting relatives for the holidays. Having never been to the famed Pea Soup Andersen's, I was determined that I would break that streak. We got in and I was... confused. It looked more like a gift shop than a restaurant. Strike that -- it looked like a tacky tourist trap of a gift shop. But then we wound our way out of the back of one line (for the dining room) and into the back of another (for the coffee shop), and proceeded to wait. For quite a while, the line didn't move at all, and we were stuck looking at the sorts of colorful placards that say things like "I can only please one person per day. Today isn't your day." But then the line moved, and soon the waitress was looking for a party of two. Though we were about a third of the way back in the line, we were the only party of two, so we got to cut! It was a funny place inside -- all "Dutch kitsch," as Sweetie called it. It had very 60s/70s rock walls, and two animated characters all over named Hap-Pea and Pea-Wee. The menus and napkins were all very retro, too. Now, pea soup is often made with a ham hock in it, so I wasn't really expecting to be able to have any, and had already prepared myself for a salad. But right at the top of the menu, it declared that the soup was vegetarian, and furthermore they had an all-you-can-eat (which for me was one bowl) soup, bread, and beverage special. I was really pleased. It was good soup, too!

After that, we ended up not stopping again until we got to Monterey and to our B&B, the Jabberwock Inn. It still has Christmas decorations up, and it's really charming. Our room this time is the Mome Rath, which is smaller than the Borogove (where we stayed before), but very sweet. It has a big whirlpool tub for two, a king-size bed, Victorian-style wallpaper, a fireplace that is toasting the room up nicely, and an Alice in Wonderland mural in the W.C. We're also just downstairs from the water-soda-juice fridge, and just upstairs from the fresh cookies, hors d'oeuvres, tea, coffee, and sherry (not that I'll be taking advantage of that -- I have had two cookies, though!). We've just been relaxing and reading thus far, although I believe (I have to confirm) that we have dinner reservations in the old part of Monterey at a place called Montrio in about 45 minutes.

I'll keep you updated. We brought the camera, and tomorrow we're going to the aquarium (yay, sea otter exhibit!).

Oh, incidentally, on Christmas day there was the greatest (tragic) breaking news story: tigers on the loose and attacking in San Francisco! If you're not from CA, you probably didn't hear this, but we got the whole story. On the TV news on Christmas day, they were doing that "as it happens" reporting that is so often unreliable, and at one point they thought there might be four tigers on the loose. We were sure there were going to be maulings all over the Sunset district. In actuality, the newspapers reported later that there was just one tiger loose, and she never left the zoo. But she did kill one man and attack two others before police shot her. And the update this morning is that tiger experts believe there's no way she leaped over the wall of her enclosure, as it was initially thought. Rather, they think she had an accomplice! (Or at least someone careless enough to leave a door open.) Anyway, tiger attacks -- that's riveting news right there!

If you're the grinch, I'm Cindy Lou Who

Round about this time of year, I head a lot of people start talking about how much they hate the holidays, how stress-inducing it is, how it's lost all meaning, how they hate the commercialism, etc. Sometimes these folks describe themselves as Grinch-like. I don't think they are. I certainly wouldn't accuse them of having hearts two sizes too small. I know there are a lot of really good reasons for people to be a little down around the holidays. In fact, I sympathize so much that I sort of feel guilty when I tell you this: I LOVE the holidays. We have decorated the house, I have baked and made candy, I have bought and made and wrapped presents, I have listened to Christmas music... I love it. Allow me to share some of this year's goodness.


Here is our gorgeous tree, complete with Marvin the Martian star.


I'm crazy about this year's paper.


You've already seen the nutcrackers, but now the stockings are hung by the chimney with care. Yes, there are only two people living here, but there are the Lankees to consider, and Mina, and I got a new stocking as a gift this year...

We have already gotten several presents for the-baby-who-will-not-make-her-debut-until-March.


We are pretty sure this is a handmade-by-Grandma quilt, but we're going to call tomorrow and find out for sure. Cool, huh?




These are called Babylegs -- they're legwarmers for babies. They allow easier diaper changes, warm babies, and some knee padding for crawlers. And they're cool.


Now I have to get ready for breakfast! Happy holidays, yo! Even to the grinches.

Alumni

Yesterday we had several alumni visit campus. They were the students I taught my first year at Horticulturalist High. Without exception, the ones who returned were doing well, getting good grades, had just completed their first semester of college... Several had nice things to say about how our honors program had prepared them for college. And it was just good to see them. I am always pleased to see the kids who've moved on.

Also yesterday, there was an article in the paper about a young man who shot a police deputy. At 16, he is going down on record as the youngest cop-killer in Sacramento. In interviews with his neighbors, I spotted another name from another first year. Pinky was in eighth grade the very first year I was teaching. She was a tough, athletic kid. Smart, but she got in trouble sometimes, too. The last I had heard, she was at my alma mater in one of their law enforcement academies. In other words, she was training to be a cop. But her picture and interview... she looked really rough, and mentioned that she and some of her friends had beaten up this "wannabe" last week in order to teach him a lesson. I suspect she's taken another path. And I'm really, truly sorry to hear it.

It is 6:47 am on the first day of vacation

and I am a cranky Oedipal-expletive-deleted. Why? I coughed up something resembling Oscar the Grouch yesterday, and since that's usually pneumonia's big-flashing-sign-of-here-I-am-ness, I call the doctor. They want to see me at 3:30, which means I'd have to leave work early, which is really not feasible. They say okay, well, we'll send a message to your doctor's office and have them follow up with an appointment.

Dr's office calls. The message is more or less "Call us at this number between 6 and 7 tomorrow and we'll get you in." Great, I think. That's easy. So I set the alarm, get up at the ass-crack of dawn, and call the number, which, because it is a SPECIAL number, I am sure will get me through directly to that office. No. It's just the regular everyone-and-their-grandma number, and I have to listen to them say "Due to a high call volume, we are experiencing long wait times. If you are calling for a regular appointment, you may wish to call back at a later time. If you are calling regarding an illness, please stay on the line" approximately five billion times (because they play the blasted recording every 3 seconds --- the other three seconds are 2-5 notes of Muzak). My estimated wait time was 6 minutes, but I was on hold for about 12 before anyone picked up. And when they did? They have no appointments today, but can send a message to my doctor's office, but they won't get it until Monday. In the meantime, I can speak to an advice nurse...

Yeah, speaking to the advice nurse generally means answering the same question 67 times (Yes, I am having chest congestion. Yes, I am asthmatic, but it is usually managed well. No, I'm not having chest pain. No, it is not severe shortness of breath. Yes, I can get a deep breath. No, I don't feel it's an emergency. Yes, I'm drinking plenty of fluids. Sure, let me describe the shit I'm coughing up to you again...) I've had that conversation a lot. Several times, the advice has been to rest and hydrate, and then two days later I'm in the ER for chest X-rays and a killer antibiotic. I told him to forget it. I'm going to rest and hydrate, and see what happens. I haven't coughed up anything particularly nasty since last night, so maybe it was an anomaly.

The devil and Ms. S

Baby Devil Goat
Originally uploaded by knee_bone

First, as a quick note, there are contract negotiations going on between the school district and my union. The district's latest offer for a raise? .666% Think that's a message?

Also, sometimes the devil gets into me when I'm grading. Here is what I wrote on the back of a student's essay. (Keep in mind, this was a "revision" of a paper that he had basically plagiarized before and I told him to start over. He still used huge swaths of the old paper.)

"Burn this, delete it from any electronic sources it may be saved on, and start fresh." I then gave him some suggestions for a new paper, one of which was similar in some ways, so at the end of that I wrote "But you MUST have a clear thesis, a good reason for doing it, and you must not use one word of this existing paper (because it is dookie)."

On another paper, I wrote "(Student), your writing is brain and eyeball torture. But I'm going to ignore that and try to focus on your ideas." I talked about the ideas, and then ended with "So... what now? Are you finally ready to invest some real time and thought into this?"

It's mean, I suppose, but at the same time, the eyeball torture kid is a junior in an advanced English program. Mofo needs to learn to proofread. Seriously, his paper contains this "sentence": "As she illustrates through out the novel the use of feminism by using the characters she creates and image of equality of the sexes." Am I crazy, or does that NOT MEAN ANYTHING?

Unusual etiquette in the coffee shop

I go to a coffee shop that is awesome. They have lots of seating, plenty of space, free wi-fi that works a lot of the time, and fantastic beverages. They also offer a few edibles, like cookies, muffins, scones, and biscotti.

Although this isn't generally described as a college town, we do have a CSU, several junior colleges, and a large teaching hospital nearby. The place, therefore, is often PACKED with people studying. I've been there a lot lately grading papers (for some reason, I just can't get focused at home -- I find ways to distract myself and not do the work).

I've always thought that if you're going to hog a spot at a crowded, popular coffee shop, you ought to compensate the place. I figure that a drink buys you about an hour, a drink and a biscotti a touch more, and if you plan to be there two hours or more, you need to buy another beverage. And tip. But I don't think that everyone shares my philosophy. I also believe that while it is acceptable to bring in something small to eat, like a few chocolates or a bag of candy, if you plan to EAT, it ought to be the foods they offer for sale. Again, I'm sensing that this isn't the popular opinion.

Last week, one young lady of a pair left, and when she returned, she had enormous burritos, which they unwrapped in the coffee shop and ate. They also had sodas. "How gauche!" I thought, as the smell of black beans and onions wafted toward me. I also thought it was an anomaly, but in the days since, I have seen people unwrap sandwiches and more burritos. Tonight, I saw a sweet scene -- a man and his three kids (in pajamas and Santa hats) snuck up to a woman who was studying. Then they unloaded an ice chest with a complete pasta dinner and Diet Pepsi.

Am I crazy? A coffee shop, though it certainly doesn't offer complete meals, is nevertheless a food and drink establishment. You wouldn't drop into the Pizza Hut and unwrap sandwiches from elsewhere. You wouldn't go into the pub and open your own flask. In fact, you'd get thrown out of most places for doing that. Why would these people think it's okay to do so in a coffee shop? I have certainly had some days where I planned to put in multiple hours grading and gotten hungry in the meantime. But do you know what I do? It sounds crazy, but I LEAVE, go to a place that sells FOOD, eat it there, and then return to the coffee shop (where I BUY something).

It's not a community center, people. It's a business.

Must... keep... hydrated

Vitaminwater
Originally uploaded by Big Mike NYC

I feel like shit. On Monday I wasn't feeling great -- stuffed up and clearly not at my best, but not downright awful. Yesterday, I pretty much went to downright awful. It's mostly just head/chest/breathing stuff, but my stomach's been a little touchy, too. I rested last night, graded papers (but not many), and went to bed early. I've been taking Airborne and drinking lots of water, and Sweetie brought me Gatorade and Vitamin Water, too.
This morning, I am not better. I'm tired, my eyes are hot and heavy-feeling, my head is stuffy, and I just wish I was curled up in bed. Of course, I can't blow sick days at this point, so I'm resigned to being here, ill, all week. And I hate Gatorade. I'm drinking it, but I hate it. (I love you, Sweetie, though, and thank you for buying it!)
I also owe Sweetie an apology -- he didn't get a very good night's sleep, because it's difficult to drift off next to Darth Vader. It's not just the noise -- it's the constant threat of getting your hand cut off via light saber.

Yet another in the vivid pregnancy dream files

Stephen Colbert
Originally uploaded by dietrich

In this dream, I am wandering around Sacramento playing hide and seek with Stecen Colbert. He is wearing a suit, of course, and we are chasing each other in and out of the antique store at 21st and X streets. It is a two-story building with a ramp to the second floor. Also, if you go out through the back door on the main floor, you can walk behind the stores to another antique store two doors down. It's perfect for hide and seek (and incidentally, all true in real life, unlike some dream locations).

I run into the store with Colbert hot on my heels, and run down to the basement (now we're in dream territory -- so far as I know, the store doesn't have a basement). It's a maze of plastic sheeting and unfinished walls. My principal comes wandering out, in a suit also, but a rumpled, baggy one. He looks like he's coming off a three-day bender. It is the raggediest hangover I have ever seen. But he wants to talk, and you can't just brush off the principal, so even though Colbert is coming, I have to stay and talk.

When Colbert comes down the stairs, I take an offensive tack, running after him and chasing him back out onto the street. I begin flinging pieces of buttered toast at him, and as I throw them, a huge SUV drives up and Eric Clapton leans out the window. I laugh hysterically as I say "How do you like having toast thrown at you while Eric Clapton waits behind!" Which is especially funny, because that's my FAVORITE Monty Python line to quote! Oh, ho, ho, the perfect timing of it all!

But wait. Something's wrong! I think I've screwed it up. It's not supposed to be Eric Clapton; it's supposed to be Eric Idle! Curses! Foiled again! And the toast just split in half as if cut by a laser as it approaches Colbert.

Dream interpretation people? What on EARTH is going on in my head?

Sorry it's been quiet around the blog

It's because it's crazy busy around my life. I've been making crafts like 9 year old in a Chinese sweatshop in anticipation of the holiday season. They involve both perishables and non-perishables, but I won't tell you what they are, because many of you are receiving them, and that ruins the surprise. We took a Christmas card photo and I actually went and made about 20 Christmas cards. I have mailed out 9 of them, as I ran out of postage and motivation at roughly the same time.

I have been busily grading papers for school. One major drawback to having adjusted the schedule this year (to accommodate my maternity leave) is that the stuff I'm usually really busy with in May/June, I'm really busy with now, right at Christmas. That kind of sucks.

We did get a Christmas tree and it's decorated. Sweetie took a photo of it, but I'm going to see if I can get a better one. It's a really nice tree this year -- very big and full. I am a sap, but I love coming in from outside and catching a glimpse of the tree all lit up. We listened to the Charlie Brown Christmas as we decorated. Sweetie has already stashed some presents under there, too!

This morning we had another volunteer day. Well, actually it ended up being only 2 1/2 hours. We wrapped presents for Volunteers of America, who had collected hats, scarves, gloves, and socks to be given to the homeless. I had a nice time, actually, and now I have Jefferson Airplane's "Volunteers of America" in my head. Is that just me? I guess so... Oh yeah, and we shared a table with a Brazilian woman who was kind enough to tell me that Grandpa in Portuguese is "vovo." With a sort of accent on the second "vo." Not that we'll use it -- Portugese Grandpa is already designated Boompah. But it's interesting to know.

Last night was my staff party, and although we've been together for almost 5 years and I've been at this job for 2 1/2, Sweetie had never met most of my co-workers. The ones he had met were by and large not there. So we had a lot of small talk to make. I think the funniest conversation was when my vice principal told Sweetie he was something like "lugareno" or something that was Spanish for "you look like you could be from anyplace." It's sort of true to an extent, if you just go by the olive skin, but I think if you know what Iranian people look like, you'd know he was Iranian. It wasn't a half-bad party, if I did discover the somewhat disturbing fact that my principal and I had been to the same concert recently! Apparently, he's a big They Might Be Giants fan, too.

Tonight is Sweetie's staff party. Unlike Sweetie at mine, I'll know most of the people there. Not only have I gone to several of his Christmas parties, we go hang out and play poker with some of his co-workers. There'll be people there I don't know, or don't know well, but most of them will be familiar to me, and I'll have plenty of people to talk to.

Tomorrow Monkeygirl and I are doing a craftapalooza. I think Mom is going to come help, too. Hopefully at some point I can get some papers graded, but I warned the kids that they might take me longer this time. My goal is just to get them all back by Friday so they can work on revisions over the break (which they won't).

I'm trying not to make this all a pregnancy blog, but I realize a lot of my posts lately have been about that. I hope you don't mind. It's hard not to be preoccupied with something that is so continuously brought to my attention. If she's not kicking or bouncing, I'm having back pain (or front pain -- round ligament pain sucks!) or hunger. It's a good thing, and I don't mind being reminded of it, but I hope I haven't become an (inside-out) navel-gazer.

Oh yeah! And the stupid air freshener got replaced on Friday, and the on-ramp was backed up to the main street and people STILL were going one at a time. Sheesh.

The universe does me a couple solids.

I WAS planning to blog about two things that were annoying me. The first was the Rinsa brand "peach harvest" air freshener that was fucking up my favorite bathroom on campus. The bathroom is clean, it's warm, and due to a plumbing mix up, the bowl water is warm, too, so it's like the seat is never cold! But unfortunately, someone stocked the restroom with this NOXIOUS air freshener that clings to you when you leave. It's almost impossible to breathe if that stuff has been sprayed. Well you know what? It disappeared!

Then, I was going to complain about my freeway on-ramp. First, I have no idea why there's a light there. At the time of day I get on, the traffic is never backed up, and is usually going around 70 MPH in the left lanes. For a while, they took the light out, and it was easy to merge into traffic. But with the light, you have to go from a dead stop to 65 MPH in about 15 yards, and since you don't get to choose when you go, you often find a mattress truck barreling down on you. In my opinion, the meter makes it much worse. But to add insult to injury, it is one of the few "2 cars per green" lights in town. So about every other time, only one car goes, which slows the process down further. And I don't think it helps that the official sign says "2 CAR PER GREEN." Well, among all the things that drive me insane about this meter, I HATE that it's ungrammatical. But this week? Someone fixed it with a Sharpie! Thank you, anonymous stranger! Of course, there's not really enough space, so now it says "2 CARSPER GREEN." But whatever.

Festive as all get-out!

Whoo hoo! Today I made goodies for Xmas presents (and I'm not telling you what they are, but if they happened to be food-related, they'd be delicious).

We had already put up Sweetie's collection of nutcrackers (no trying to pin them on me, babe), but I got lights to put around them.


Here are the others, above our TV.


I found this cool thingie at Ikea (for $7) to display Sweetie's dad's handmade Christmas cards.


Also at Ikea, I bought two pillowcases and a sheet to make the couch more holiday-y. The cat is not from Ikea.


And just for shits and giggles, here's my new t-shirt from Mom. Thanks Mom! Just in case you can't see, it says "Yes, I'm pregnant. It's a girl. She's my first, and she's due in March." Come on, that's cute!

My Sweetie rules

Okay, I know I've said plenty that my husband rocks, but one of the things I like so much about him is how he attempts to make my life easy by facilitating my little routines.

So lately, in order to sleep comfortably, I've needed to build a sort of pillow fortress so that whether I'm on my right or left, I can prop up both my belly and my top leg.

Last night, I came in and Sweetie had pre-made my pillow fortress. Isn't that sweet?

Three belly items.

First, my belly button is slowly turning inside out. I guess I'd expected it, but I have an unusually deep belly button, and it has a mole in it that I had removed once. But they could only get so deep, so part of the mole, which I haven't had to look at in ages, is now quite visibly on the surface. It's weird.

Second, I notice that everyone who touches the belly touches it very gently, like it's super-fragile. I have to push Sweetie's hands onto it if I want him to feel the kicks. Now, I'm not fragile, and the baby's not fragile, and my skin/muscle/uterus isn't fragile, so what's up? I had noticed it, but it became even more evident via contrast yesterday. My doctor downright manhandled it to feel where the baby was. If my doctor can manhandle it, so can I!

And third, so can you! I may feel differently my March, but right now, I don't mind if you touch my belly. So many women REALLY mind, and I'm not speaking for them, but for me? Have at it. I understand. I always want to touch pregnant ladies' bellies. There's a frickin' miracle a-brewin', and I totally get wanting to be in on it. I can clearly remember getting to touch my aunts' bellies when they were pregnant when I was a kid. It was one of the coolest things ever. So touch away, talk to her, whatever you like (within reason).

Fartin' up the coffee shop

Well, that's a little exaggeration. But Tupelo was crowded, so I was sort of smooshed into a corner and trapped by someone's laptop cord. As I got up to go to the bathroom, I tooted! Audibly! I hope that the people nearby gave me pregnant-chick privilege.

I would just like to say that as a vegetarian, I am a little tootier than the rest of the world. And there may be a genetic factor -- no offense Mom or Dad, but I have to say I came by it honestly. Finally, I think the pregnancy isn't helping much. I've been doing hundreds of Kegels a day, but they're not butt-Kegels. I can't hold 'em all in!

Well, at least mine was a passing stink, unlike the girl next to me who was doused in a cologne that made my eyes water.

Song lyrics that give me the heebie jeebies.

"Rubbin' sticks and stones together makes the sparks ingite
and the thought of rubbin' you is getting so exciting."

This is from the Starland Vocal Band's "Afternoon Delight." There is just altogether too much rubbing going on. "Rubbin' you"? Ew. Another winner from the same song is "But you've got some bait a waitin' and I think I might try nibbling." This is just not romantic. It's also not sexy. I don't know what it is. Probably creepy.

Also on the creepy front is Fleetwood Mac's "Second Hand News," in which the line "Won't you lay me down in the tall grass and let me do my stuff" appears. What stuff is that, exactly? Do my stuff? Dude, if someone wanted to make love to me (and I suspect that's what this song is about) and proposed it as "doing my stuff" I'd be so grossed out I don't thing we could EVER do said "stuff." Even if it was David Bowie. Even if it was David Bowie twenty years ago.

In the Paula Cole song "I don't want to wait," she somehow manages to make my ears bleed via poor language use TWICE. First, she says "So open up your morning light and say a little prayer for I." It's called the objective case, moron, and only Bob Marley gets away with abusing it. But later, even worse in some ways, is this: "wearing shrapnels in his skin." Now, when I look up the lyrics, it always says "shrapnel," which would be correct. But she clearly sings "shrapnels," which is equivalent to something like "gravels" as shrapnel already indicates several individual pieces. This came out just over 11 years ago, and I still have a little portion of my brain dedicated to hating it.

But it's not as old or as ubiquitous as Paul McCartney's "Live and Let Die." The lyric is "But if this ever changin' world in which we live in..." Listen, I'm not the kind of grammar nazi who's going to quibble with ending a sentence in a preposition. "This ever-changin' world we live in" would have been fine." So would "world in which we live." I've even heard people say it's REALLY "world in which we're living," which would be fine! But it's not -- it's preposition abuse. I have actually perfected a technique for shutting off the radio and turning it right back on so I don't have to hear it. It now sounds (in my car) like this: "But if this ever-changing world in which we live (off-silence-on) makes you give in and cry..."


The song is "Lightning Crashes" by Live. The lyric is "Lightning crashes, a new mother cries. Her placenta falls to the floor." Ew, what? Why? Don't sing about placentas.

That's all for now. I'd be delighted if you commented with your own irritating lyrics.

NoNaNoWriMo, NoNaBloPoMo

I didn't do either this year. And that's fine. You know what I did instead? I made a quilt for upcoming baby. I read a couple books and some magazines. I cooked. I got plenty of sleep. I didn't stress. I spent time with my family for Thanksgiving. It was good. And now November is over and I don't regret my decision at all. There you have it.

Sooo... I'm six months pregnant!

Holy shit, huh? Everyone has said they can't believe it's gone this quickly, and I agree. I mean, I still have 4 months to go (that whole 9 months thing is a damnable lie -- it's 40 weeks total), so it's not like she's coming tomorrow, you know? But still.. half a year has passed!

My body image has improved even as my belly has expanded. I'm just happy my body seems to know what it's doing. I was talking to my deli gals at Corti Brothers today, and as I walked away I overheard them say "She looks great." I feel like I look great, too. And, well, it doesn't hurt that nothing much is expanding other than my belly. I'm so glad I haven't gained a second ass or anything. I like my first one. (I'm probably jinxing myself for the next trimester, aren't I? I'm gonna grow ginormous booty.)

That's about it. I need to go drink water and brush my teeth. Good night!

Music and pregnancy (unrelated)

I don't have much to say, so I'll talk about music and pregnancy, two things that are foremost in my mind.

I finally copied a bunch of music that Sweetie's friend sent on DVDs from the UK. I don't have room for a ton of stuff, but I did grab a few things. I got several songs by Nick Drake, some things here and there that I'd heard were good but didn't know much about, and some old stuff that I happened not to have, like a few Hendrix songs and two Led Zeppelin albums. Is Led Zeppelin II like a perfect album or what?

On the bad front, there's a new song by Kid Rock that makes me want to hurt someone. When it begins, it sounds as though it's stolen from Warren Zevon's "Werewolves of London," and as it continues, it becomes obvious that it's stolen from Lynyrd Skynyrd. It's supposed to be a tribute, but it's a wholesale ripoff. I just hate it.

On pregnancy, there are just two funny things to note, and they're both about connections. First, this whole thing is... not to be cliche, but it's fucking miraculous. I mean, it's just amazing. I'm growing a PERSON, right? Anyway, anywhere I go that I see other moms, I think it's just remarkable that we've been through the same thing. They've found out they were pregnant, felt the baby kick, maybe seen an ultrasound, heard the heartbeat. All this stuff that's just BLOWING MY MIND, and all these other women have gone through it, too. Isn't that neat?

And second, I generally don't think of myself as crazy (eccentric, sure), and I don't believe in new-age woo-woo stuff. But it's hard not to think that Peapod and I have a connection. Like, I sing and talk out loud to her, but I also talk to her internally, and I feel like she can hear me. She'll kick, and I'll think "What'cha doing, there, pumpkin?" I know I can't really think at her, but it feels like I can.

Okay, that is all.

Yesterday was a really great day

Sweetie and I got up and walked to 33rd Street Bistro for breakfast. I love going out for breakfast, and that's one of my favorite places to go. It was a nice crisp morning (okay, Sweetie would say it was freezing) and a good walk.

At home again, I read the paper and fooled around on the internet, then packed my bag and went to Tupelo to do some grading. Okay, it wasn't the highlight of my day, but I got it done pretty quickly, and it's some papers I've been procrastinating on (would YOU want to read 45 ill-written biographies of Tupac Shakur?), so I was glad to get it done. And I had a latte. I also went to the maternity shop next door and they were having a huge sale. I bought a wine-colored velvety top that'll be good for the holidays, and it was $20. On the receipt, it was all "You saved $57." So... cool.

Then it was home again for a nap, and then I went off to the gym and swam a few laps, then sat with my feet in the hot tub and read. Then I picked up sushi and brought it home, where we ate it with relish (well, with pickled ginger).

At a little after 8, I decided to call my mom to see if my cousin had progressed in her labor, and my timing was impeccable: Mom had just gotten off the phone with my aunt, and my new cousin was born about 15 minutes prior. Welcome to the world, little Grant! I hope it treats you well.

Thanksgiving and the Who-a-thon

Yesterday was nice. I woke up early and read the paper, ate breakfast, and was generally lazy until it was time to make cranberries, then had a nap, a shower, and we went to my uncle's.

I haven't seen my dad at my uncle's house in about 4 years, and I thought he'd just stopped going, actually. But it turns out that we were both going every other year, and just were on the wrong track, you know? So I got to see my dad and all my uncles and aunts (and all but a few of my cousins), plus my Grandma. We had a nice dinner (okay, truth -- there wasn't much I could eat, but later I had a slice of lemon merengue pie as big as my head). And we had Nerf wars, which are becoming a tradition. My husband and cousins all run around and shoot each other with Nerf guns while my grandmother and aunt go "Hey, not around the breakables/kids/pregnant woman/etc! You put that down right now!" And they use people's middle names and get thoroughly ignored. I may have shot a round or two myself. Good times. My uncle followed us to the car with a deep-fried turkey to take home (he makes like 6 every year), and then Sweetie carved it so we'd have room for it all in the fridge. I stayed in the kitchen with him in solidarity, but WOW is the sound of cartilage tearing disturbing.

Today we got up and did little, then at 9 or so, called Monkeygirl to see if she was coming over (she was), and then Sweetie walked to Corti Brothers while I walked to Trader Joe's. Our mission was to get a variety of junk food for today's Dr. Who marathon. Mission accomplished. We had brie, gouda, English cheddar, Irish cheddar, stilton with craberries, two kinds of crackers, three kinds of breadsticks, two par-cooked baguettes, tortilla chips, two kinds of salsa, cherry tomatoes, baby carrots, hummus, pita chips, roasted red pepper spread, honey mustard chips, pretzels, toffee cookies, ginger snaps, Italian "pizetta" chocolate cookies, Ghiradelli chocolate, hot cocoa, sugar-free Torani syrup (toffee), soft red licorice, caramel corn, cashews, chili-lemon pistachios, tequila-lime pistachios, orange-honey almonds, garlic-stuffed olives, garlic flavored olives... I think that might be it. In retrospect, we probably could have made it with just ONE of us going shopping at just one store.



Then we had a fire (I had to go back out for matches, whoops) and watched two whole... what would you call a Dr. Who storyline? Is it a whole season? Anyway, we gorged ourselves on cheese and baguette, then watched "City of Death" and "The Beast of Fang Rock." I liked "City of Death" best, because there was actually a good deal of humor (intentional and un-), and a cameo by John Cleese. Next to John Cleese in the very brief scene was an actress I recognized, but neither MG or Sweetie did. I waited for the credits and saw that she was Eleanor Bron. So why do I recognize her? Because she was the leading lady (and double agent!) in the Beatles movie "Help."

Finally Monkeygirl needed a nap and Sweetie needed some exercise, so we called an official end to the Dr. Who-a-thon. I watched another episode of Deadwood (and I think Mr. Woolcott is the same actor who played the hooplehead who killed Wild Bill Hickock. Yes, I'm three years behind the rest of the world.)

And now Sweetie's home and we're trying to decide whether we're hungry enough for some healthy broccoli or something. Sounds like broccoli and brown rice it is. Whew.

Giving thanks

2006 Thanksgiving post

2005 Thanksgiving on the road.

2004 Thanksgiving.

Well, I have so much to give thanks for I think I'd overwhelm you. But here's a sampling:

The biggest one this year, by far, is this pregnancy. I feel so lucky and grateful. As always, I am thankful for my wonderful husband, my family (including my family in Oregon and Washington, who we miss desperately this year), my friends, my home, my job, my cat, my health, my friends' and family's health, and the general good fortune that I feel surrounded by pretty much all the time. Even in the worst times, I often feel like I live a charmed life. How could one person be so lucky? I guess I need to give a big shout out to past-life-me.

It's not time for a year-end wrap up, but I am also thankful for the good fortune of my friends and family. One friend has had a real mix of ups and downs this year, but it's starting to go more up than down, and I'm very happy for that. Another two friends just got married after a long courtship. Another friend lost a cherished aunt, but found her career path in caring for her, and has returned to school where she's kicking ass. Another friend is getting her book published (ranking #97 on Amazon already!). Mom lost a good friend, but I'm thankful for the years they had together and the way she enriched our lives. I'm thankful for the continued health and well-being of our nieces and nephews. Many people in my family have had health issues, but they're becoming much healthier as a result. I will be welcoming a new cousin soon. In short, there's a lot of good stuff going on in the world, and I'm glad the good stuff is happening to good people.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. I hope your lives are as full of joy as mine.

Some reflections on pregnancy

Teresa's big calves
Originally uploaded by Drmspnr

Well, I consider myself lucky to have had a pretty typical pregnancy so far. Nothing has happened to me that didn't have its own heading in the Dr. Sears Pregnancy book. And all of them say something like "nothing to worry about."

That's not to say it's all been sunshine and roses. We tried so hard for so long that I felt really guilty complaining about anything pregnancy-related, and I've only recently given myself permission to complain a bit. I kind of had to -- I'm noticeably limping. My sacroiliac joint has apparently gone on strike, and there are now very few positions I can sit or stand in comfortably.

My first trimester was pretty easy. I was hungry and I was tired. So I carried snacks (as my BlogHer buddies can attest to) and took naps. No biggie. I didn't particularly care for tomatoes or coffee, thank you, and found that cottage cheese was delicious. I think that, short of having NO symptoms, I had it about as easy as it gets. And frankly, even those symptoms were kind of reassuring; I knew that my body was doing what it was supposed to.

Then the second trimester came, and it's been a mixed bag. The fatigue and the hunger went away. I started to show and to feel her move, which is unbelieveably exciting. But then the combo of the extra weight and the joint-loosening hormones jacked up my lower back. And some other small, odd things have happened. Despite not having a moment of nausea in my first trimester, I discovered that my gag-reflex is extra-sensitive, and I puked after choking on some soup. And I NEVER puke. I also got a bloody nose about two days after my pregnancy class educator said that bloody noses were quite common. I've been a bit congested, which is apparently also normal.

And last night, I started to wake up to go to the bathroom, wiggled my feet, and got the most astounding leg cramp I've ever had. I didn't want to wake up Sweetie, so I was internally screaming "OHGODNOOOOOO!! OWWWWWW!" And I couldn't remember what the folk remedies were. And I cursed myself for not eating bananas this week. And I couldn't remember what the Dr. Sears book had said to do. I remembered this much: "Leg cramps during the night are quite common. Your instinct will be to ------------, but that may make it worse. Instead, -----------." One of those blanks was stretching and one was flexing, but I could not remember which was which!* I was thinking "What is my instinct? I don't know!" Instead, I just lay there, screaming internally. It's still quite sore this morning, actually. I have never had a muscle cramp that big or that bad (except once in my back, and I was immobilized).

I also have to wonder just how many holes in my memory there are like that. "When performing the Heimlich maneuver, first --------. Then carefully -------." I mean, come on! That's not all that helpful!

Anyway, altogether it's been a really good experience. I know that all of this is going to result in a beautiful, perfect girl. I'm also giving myself permission to admit that it's not all easy.

I'm reminded of the scene in "The Princess Bride" when the Dread Pirate Roberts (Wesley) and Princess Buttercup are navigating the Fire Swamp.

Buttercup: We'll never succeed. We may as well die here.
Westley: No, no. We have already succeeded. I mean, what are the three terrors of the Fire Swamp? One, the flame spurt - no problem. There's a popping sound preceding each; we can avoid that. Two, the lightning sand, which you were clever enough to discover what that looks like, so in the future we can avoid that too.
Buttercup: Westley, what about the R.O.U.S.'s?
Westley: Rodents Of Unusual Size? I don't think they exist.

I thought the leg cramps didn't exist, and they do. Oh, how they do. But I'm navigating anyway. Now if only I had a holocaust cloak.

*Incidentally, you're supposed to stretch the muscle by flexing your foot.

"If I didn't do it at all, does that count?"

Half Full, Half Empty
Originally uploaded by PrincessRyan

My students have a very my-homework-is-half-full sort of perspective.

They had a big assignment due today which they've known about quite literally since the first week of school (which is when they were given the calendar of important due dates). Here are two of the conversations I had this morning:

K: If I only got four sources instead of ten, does that count?
Me: So you didn't do your work?
K: No, I did it. I've got four.
Me: But you're supposed to have ten. So you didn't do your work?
K: Well I looked some up on the internet, but they were dead pages.
Me: So you didn't do your work?

M: If I send you a link to all the books instead of the citations, does that count?
Me: Did you do the citations?
M: Well, no, what I have is links to the books.
Me: So you didn't do your work?
M: No! I did, I just didn't cite them.
Me: But your assignment was to provide me with citations. So you didn't do your work?
M: No, it's a link -- I can show you. It's a link from the public library.
Me: So you didn't do your work?
M: Well, would it be better to turn them in late or to just give you the links today?
Me: Today, you haven't done your work. So do it, then turn it in.

For goodness' sake! The assignment is to provide an annotated bibliography. And they think they can send me a link to a public library page on the book? Unbelievable.

Oh yeah, and to my anonymous Sacramento buddy (buddies?)

I tend to forget to respond to comments (especially if I get them while at work), but I wanted to say two things:

First, DUDE! How crazy that you found my blog and we live a block apart! How DID you find it, by the way? I'm just curious... I always think of it as being read only by the folks I know, because I just don't consider myself interesting enough to have strangers read about me.

And second, yes, I miss Greta's, too. However, at the time Greta's existed, I was young and poor, so it was a rare treat. I liked the orzo salad and the Asian noodle salad, although I've always liked La Bou's Asian noodle salad better. But if it has broccoli in it, I like it.

Anyway, hi!

So far, so good (this weekend)

Yesterday I had agreed to chaperone the students' "soiree" after school from 4:30 to 6:30. I wasn't sure how well-organized it was going to be, but it turned out well. They brought a nice variety of food (though four enormous tubs of macaroni salad came in, puzzlingly) and pretty much played charades and pictionary the whole time. Everyone participated and they all seemed to be having a good time. Certainly not the view of inner-city teens you usually get in the media.

This morning I read the paper and played on the internet, then Sweetie and I went to REI to register people for "Run to Feed the Hungry."* I'm good at shit like that. It was just like working retail again in some ways, except that everyone was nice. Oh, and that I was 5 1/2 months pregnant and on my feet for the same number of hours! Incidentally, I mentioned to Sweetie this morning that I really felt cute now that I was noticeably pregnant, not just fat and bloated-looking. I must still look fat, though, because after I took a snack break, the baby started kicking the shit out of me, and I mentioned it to the coordinator lightheartedly (whom I had been working next to for over 4 hours). She was like "What! I didn't know you were pregnant! Diana, did you know she was pregnant?" I still think I look pregnant, because otherwise it's a very strange way to carry my excess weight, but whatever.
* We're not good people or anything, we're just trying to get Sweetie community service hours for work.

Tonight I think we're going out to dinner (no set plans, though) and maybe we'll have a fire and take a photo for the Christmas card. I realize that's ambitious, since I often don't even manage to SEND Christmas cards at all, and now I'm all "yeah, I'm gonna make our own cards!" Well, we'll see. Hot cocoa and more goofing off sounds good, too.

Tomorrow is my family's early Thanksgiving. We often do that, because we're all so fractious and divided on the actual day. Sometimes Sweetie and I go out of town to see his family (we'd really like to have done so this year, but it wasn't in the cards). My cousin is married with kids and has his wife's family to consider. I have my Dad's family, and Mom and Boompah sometimes go to the Delta to be with his family. So we celebrate twice, because we all like to see each other and spend time together. And because my mom seriously makes the BEST Thanksgiving food ever (although my darling Sister-in-law's was damn good, too). I think it's one of those childhood nostalgia things, but I have never had a stuffing I liked as much as Mom's. And as a vegetarian, going to my uncle's is kind of a crapshoot -- the stuffing's been done in the bird, the mashed potatoes sometimes have chicken stock. I get rolls and cranberry stuff (not homemade, like at Mom's) and salad (if it isn't meaty) and whatever else is there. At Mom's, I know I can have everything but the turkey. (Although as a note, Sister-in-law and the rest of Sweetie's family went out of their way to accommodate me, too.) Oh, and at uncle's? Store-bought pie. And those weird sweet potatoes with crap all over them. But the day's not all about the food, and I enjoy spending time with my family, only a few of whom have seen me since I'm knocked up! They're a big sentimental Irish gang, so they'll be excited. (Okay, yet another parenthetical -- they actually DID see me pregnant on 4th of July, but none of us knew that then. Peapod was like, a blastocyst.)

And Monday is Sweetie's birthday! He's the super-best husband in the world, and I don't shout that from the mountaintops nearly often enough. Happy early birthday to the best thing that ever happened to me.

What are we going to do tonight, Brain?

The only acceptable answer to this is "The same thing we do every night, Pinky -- try to take over the world."*

This morning I got an e-mail with that subject line. It was a half-joking congratulatory message to a co-worker who got a nice write-up in the paper. It indicated that said co-worker was trying to take over the world. It made me laugh. Several other people hit "reply all" to add their congratulations.

And then the jerk-o who suckered me into teaching Huck Finn to his special ed class last month sent a reply to all saying something like "Hey, if you're going to send an e-mail to just one person, don't CC the whole rest of the staff."

Well, at first I thought maybe he just thought the congratulations should be kept on the down low (why?), but then I realized he hadn't read it at all. In fact, he had e-mailed the entire staff (irony, anyone?) and instead of replying, had RE-TYPED the subject line. How do I know? Because he spelled it "Brian."

* It is a reference to the cartoon "Animaniacs," and particularly the characters Pinky and the Brain.

Okay, pictures of the quilt

Having an Amish day.

That's right: I made soup, baked bread, read my book, and quilted.

It was nice, although not all of my day went smoothly. My yeast was dead the first time around, and I couldn't find all the ingredients for my soup at the first store I went to. I walked around the corner to the Save Mart, but two of the self-checky things were down and one of the remaining two seemed to be occupied by one of those egg-obsessives detailed in "Clerks." So anyway, when I realized my bread was really, really not going to work, I went to another store.

I thought I had gotten the egg noodles I wanted at Safeway before (although later Sweetie told me he knew I had gotten them at Raley's. Anyway, I also need a new navel ring, since my belly is popping out like the Thanksgiving turkey thermometer and I don't want TWO ugly scars (I'll be happy to tell you the story of how I got the other one when we tell drunk stories sometime). I went to the piercing shop that's a few blocks from the Safeway, but no one was in, so they referred me to another shop downtown. Fine, I thought. I had plenty of time, and what I wanted would only take a couple minutes. But when I got there, the guy running the shop was busy. The customer he was with took only a minute, and there was one more pair in front of me, so I really thought it wouldn't be long. But the customers in front of me were... high needs. I was there for 40 minutes before he helped me. Ugh.

And then I went to Safeway and they didn't have what I wanted. So that outing sucked.

But then I came home and worked on my quilt a bit and made fat noodle soup (with only somewhat inferior fettuccine noodles (Sweetie didn't seem to mind -- he had three bowls). I got the pita bread going, and it's now out of the oven. I am 3/4 done hand-tying my quilt*. I am half-watching "Fever Pitch," which is an okay movie, but has nothing in common with the book.

Yesterday Mom and I saw "Dan in Real Life," which I really enjoyed. I have to say that I am a woman under the influence of powerful hormones, but I cried more than once. It was very touching. I love Steve Carrel in more serious roles (well, I love him in comedy, too), and I thought we was very convincing as a widower torn between loyalty to his brother and a chance at real love. It was sweet.

*Okay, here's the deal on the quilt: I'll show you when I'm done. It's not going to be very good, because it's my first one. It's not full-sized; it's baby-sized. But recently Sweetie asked if I could do something with 3 old Tintin shirts that he didn't wear, but wasn't ready to part with. As it happened, I had 6 Alice shirts I'd made the same decision about a few years ago. Three plus six is nine, which makes a square. So I figured I'd try to make a t-shirt quilt. I have to do the last of the tying, then put the binding on. I think it'll be cute, although like I said, no great work of skill.

Pink & registries, miso, art, rice and greetings!

Yesterday I used a coupon a friend sent me to register at Target for baby stuff (the coupon gave me a $10 gift card if I started the registry in November). I have two things to say about that experience.

First, Who am I? Where is my mind? I swear, up until two weeks ago when we found out the sex, I was all "I want everything gender-neutral, I want greens and yellows and nothing too girly and nothing changes when we find out the sex." And about 4 seconds after I actually found out we were having a girl, it became "OHMYGODLOOKATTHELITTLEPINKSLEEPER! And these socks will make her little girly feeties look just like FLOOOOWERS!" Yeah, I don't know what happened to my brain, other than to postulate that perhaps the extra estrogen is affecting me.

Second, I realize that registries are traditional and appropriate and within the boundaries of good etiquette, but they still make me feel squicky. Not when other people have them, mind you; then I'm delighted to have gift ideas. But to make one myself? It feels like saying "Hey, look, I can procreate -- now buy me stuff!" I mean, the whole point of us breeding at this stage in our lives is that we can afford our own Diaper Genie, you know? I want people to be happy for us and share in our joy and pet my belly if they want and hold the baby and all that stuff, but I don't like presenting a list of demands. So, dear friends, those of you who read this, when you get your shower invitation, just remember that I'm happy just to have you in my life.

In another sort-of pregnancy related note, I really, really wanted miso soup last night when we went to sushi. So I had some. And then I felt really ambivalent about it. See, I'm a vegetarian and miso soup has dried fish flakes in it. I actually did not know that for years, and drank it unrepentantly. Then when I found out, I stopped ordering it. But last night I wanted some, and I had some, and I really don't care. Which feels odd. I think I'd care if I'd had a piece of chicken or something. What is my brain telling me -- that it was okay because it was a small amount? Because fish aren't particularly sentient? Because maybe baby wanted it? I just don't know. Am I a pescatarian now?

After sushi, Monkeygirl, Sweetie and I went back to the house and decided that MG and I would go to Second Saturday. It was raining, which had pros and cons. First, we knew it wouldn't be as crowded as usual, but then of course WE'D get wet and cold. And even though I said "well, I have an umbrella!" I failed to actually take it with us. So we totally got soaked. But we also saw some really great art this time. I really liked the ceramics in the Solomon Dubnick gallery, and there's this one gallery we've been to several times on 21st street, and every time we've been there I've enjoyed the art. There were a couple really neat paintings, some cool glass pieces, and a tapestry I liked. My favorites there, though, were small paintings of local places -- Joe Marty's, the Crest, the Blue Diamond plant, Foster's Bighorn, etc. I don't really buy art, because we already have a surfeit of art for our available wall space, but there are always things I *like* and would buy if I had the money and the space.

As we walked back to the car, I almost took a nasty spill. I had galoshes on (shut up), and there was a slight puddle. I stepped in it and found that it was a puddle because there was a divot in the asphalt filled with slimy leaves and motor oil. I felt my other foot come out from under me and hover at about a 90 degree angle in front of me as I waved my arms wildly in circles. I saw two parking attendants and MG staring on in horror as I finally regained my balance.

To end our evening, we went to True Love and I got a Tom's Cherry Hot Chocolate (divine) and MG got a perfectly layered latte. We sat outside on the covered patio. It was quiet and there was classic rock playing. The only bummer was that people were smoking copiously all around us. Blech. Why do people still bother? It's expensive and smelly. Young people! Do not take up this filthy habit. I'm telling you, you'll regret it. Someday you'll look at a picture of yourself, smoking and bowlegged in your skinny jeans, and you will think what a tool you were.

By the way, if you want to feed the hungry (in very small amounts) and test your vocabulary, go to Freerice.com I found it addictive, so watch out.

Finally, I wanted to say hi to the couple of extra readers I seem to have picked up. This is a scattered, mostly pointless "life blog" (as I learned at the BlogHer conference), but I like it. I hope you do, too. I always get a little giddy when I get a comment, so thank you! Welcome aboard.

My own personal witness protection program.

Allow me to set the scene. I am on my couch in the living room with the blinds in the wide front windows open for some sunlight. I'm on the computer, I have massive bedhead, I am wearing Paul Frank monkey pajama pants (that are a size too small, so my ass crack shows), and I am also wearing a "CUSS: Campaign for Unshaved Snatch" t-shirt.

Suddenly I see movement from the corner of my eye. There are about 20 nicely-dressed people walking down my street. Two of them are coming up my walkway. I can spot an "Awake" pamphlet from ten yards. As they climb my front steps, I make a snap decision. That's right, I run. In plain view of the street, my inadequately monkey-covered five-month-pregnant ass ran for the hallway and ducked out of sight.

My darling husband, laughing at me (but also staying carefully out of sight) tells me that they almost certainly saw me, but nevertheless won't so much as crack the bedroom blinds to get a better look and see if they've gone yet.

Ah, Saturday mornings and good times.

Playing the pregnancy card

I haven't done it much. I stood in a long line for the bathroom on Saturday and didn't even stick out my tummy. But I used it today.

We went to a meeting after school. The VP giving the meeting is discipline guy, and he looks for TOTAL compliance, which is cool, and it works. Of course, I didn't realize it was going to mean no food in the meeting, so I packed my peanuts. Hey, the meeting was from 3:30 to 4:30, I knew I wouldn't be home until after 5, and lunch is at 12:30. I was hungry! I quietly got my bag open and got a handful of nuts. I was right on the aisle, so he saw me and said "Please put the food away." If I hadn't been so hungry, I might've just said sorry and let it go, but instead I said "You're going to deny the pregnant woman her afternoon snack?" He looked momentarily flustered, then said "Oh, no, go ahead." The other VP leaned over and said "That's called 'accommodations.'" Everyone laughed, and at the end of the meeting one guy was like "That's cold, playing the pregnancy card." I said "I was hungry! But don't you feel even worse now for using the ladies' room?" (He happened to come out as I was waiting for it right before the meeting.)

Some things I miss about my hometown

You read that right. I know I never LEFT my hometown, but it's changed a lot since I was a kid.

Edokko One. This Japanese restaurant at 5th and Broadway, across the street from the projects, had absolutely miraculous service. I SWEAR that they used to come ask me what I wanted, I'd say "Tenpura veggies and rice," and they'd walk ten feet to the door of the kitchen and return with my meal. Piping hot and fresh. I don't know how they did it. They mostly sold udon, from what I remember, but as a veggie, the tenpura was pretty much all I ever had. It was also insanely cheap. I know I got out of there for less than $5 (or I wouldn't have gone so often while making minimum wage). It was a total greasy spoon, but I've never found a decent replacement. When another Edokko opened further down Broadway a few years ago, I tried it, but it was more like a restaurant, with cloth napkins. And their sunomono came with fish flakes on it. Bleh.

The OLD Capitol Garage. It may surprise you to learn that I miss a sheet-metal-walled coffee shop best known for the collection of goths and punks that sat outside smoking cloves at all hours, but I do. They had the greatest shows, decent food at reasonable prices (but, like, coffee shop food -- bagels and such)... The new one is all Capitol workers and $8 grilled cheese. I miss the punks, I miss the shows, I miss the crazy artwork. I miss the chalked-up bathroom doors. I miss its grungy, not yuppie, self.

How Tacky. Can you still purchase chattering teeth and punching nuns, quirky jewelry, pornographic greeting cards, and unusual wrapping paper in Sacramento? Sure... but not all in one place.

Good Earth. A healthy restaurant with a huge variety of vegetarian selections. Will we ever see its kind again? Sunflower is more like a drive-in, and it's far away. Andy Nguyen is all Asian (and kind of spendy). Mums has closed. There's just nothing like it, and I miss it.

Cafe Melange. When I lived nearby, I spent many a weekend morning eating a cinnamon roll or a baked apple fritter and sitting in the rocking chair, at the big communal table, or upstairs looking out over 24th street and the lower level of the cafe. Now it's a Crepeville. Because apparently what Sacramento needs is more crepes. Monkeygirl, I expect you to leave a comment about the lattes.

New Helvetia. This is a bit of a cheat, since Cafe Melange used to be New Helvetia South, so I'm sort of mourning the same place twice. But not really. New Hel's more central location meant it was a lively place to spend an afternoon, either in the rocking chair (if I could grab it) or out on the patio. I used to get a Titanic-sized iced chai and read the paper or a book. I never saw the place anywhere close to empty. At any hour of the day, people from the gay kids roaming Lavender Heights to my old French teacher would be taking up tables. And their coffee drinks were fabulous. I rarely got their ice cream concoctions, because I was always watching my weight, but I assure you that they were exceptional.

Punk island (on the old K street mall). I don't think the Downtown Plaza is worse than the old K street. I'm smart enough to know that the new enclosed mall has better occupancy rates than the old mall, but I do miss the strange concrete animal sculptures and the waterways that ran up and down the mall. When I was a teen, we used to hang out on the owl. Thus, punk island.

Tower (records, video, and books at 16th and Broadway). I worked there, and admittedly I had some hard feelings about the management, but there was no place cooler for retail shopping. The bookstore was cramped and crowded and had no place for a cafe or overstuffed chairs, but it had the most well-read employees of any bookstore I know. You could see a movie at Tower theatre, get dinner at Tower Cafe, browse the records and books, rent a movie, and then maybe go to Tower Liquor for some booze, and you had yourself a weekend. It was also usually great people-watching.

Profound Sound. The ONLY music store downtown, and one of the few independently owned music stores in the area. By music store, I mean instruments and such. I now have a choice of Guitar Center or Skip's (locally owned, but far away). I know I don't need to spend money on music stuff, but I loved browsing Profound Sound and talking to the employees.

Cafe Montreal. I saw Cake there (more than once). I went there on the evening of Junior Prom. I saw my first open mic poetry reading there. It's since changed hands (and names) about ten times, but it's never had the elan that Cafe Montreal had.

Oh, I'm sure there are more, but I've been drafting this for a long time, so I'm going to give up now. Things change, we roll with the changes. There are things here now that I would miss if they were gone, and there will be places that open in the future that I will be fond of, I'm sure. I'm just feeling a little nostalgic tonight.

You have made my list, hall monitor with the eyebrow ring!

Bathroom sign, Genie's cafe, Portland, Oregon
Originally uploaded by marymactavish

Oh yes, that's right, my shit list is activated. I went on my prep period to make copies, and I usually use the bathroom that's off the copy room. As it happens, though, there was a really talkative cafeteria worker in there, so I beat feet and went to the office.

I had some papers to pick up, and on the way stopped by the office bathroom. It was in use, so I picked up my papers and went back. Still in use.

I headed back toward my classroom and the bathroom nearest it. It was in use. There are only two other staff bathrooms on campus, both much farther away, so I waited. And waited. And waited. At one point I considered leaving and going to one of the farther-away bathrooms, but I sort of felt like I had so much time invested waiting there that I might as well continue waiting and see who came out.

I had been standing right by the door, and people were periodically coming by and making conversation, so I thought if I retreated a bit, they might find it safe to come out. I backed off and sat on a planter.

Finally, after about ten minutes (and after I'd read all the paperwork I picked up from the office), a hall monitor wanders out of the bathroom TALKING ON THE PHONE. Yep. As though it was her personal lounge, rather than one of the five female bathrooms for a staff of almost 160 people.

I looked right at her (of course, she wasn't paying attention because she was ON THE PHONE), and went for the door. Seriously, these aren't bathrooms with a couple stalls and a couch in the waiting area -- these are just a WC in a big tile room. And I need to use them! Grrrrr.

I

eyebrow ring
Originally uploaded by iwantphuong

The best-laid plans

Yeah, I had big plans today. I was going to go to yoga, come home and shower and eat lunch, then go to the fabric store and buy some interfacing for one project I'm planning and some fabrics for another project, and then go to the coffee shop and write some postcards, then have dinner with mom.

Instead, I went to yoga, came home and ate lunch, took a LOOONG nap, played on the computer, took a shower, and went to dinner with mom. I also got groceries. But seriously, how lame is that? I shouldn't even have been that tired because we had the extra hour last night!

Yesterday was a ton of fun. Mom and I drove to Apple Hill, a collection of orchards about an hour from here. We sometimes go to more than one, but this time we spent the whole day at High Hill Ranch (which is pretty much my favorite one anyway). They have produce and gourmet goodies for sale (I got my favorite hot sauce, as well as 3 kinds of apples and fresh juice), pies (I got one for last night), caramel apples (yeah, I had one of those, too), a duck pond with fishing, a fudge factory, pony rides, face painting, hot food, crafts... It's good, old-fashioned fun. We met some mom friends of mine from an online forum and their kids, so I got to hold babies! One of them brought me a TON of clothes her little girl had outgrown without getting to wear and a cool vibrating chair thing.

Oh, it was also good people-watching: Mom spotted a guy who looked like Hitler. She thought it was the mustache, but his mustache was actually wider than Hitler's, so I was trying to figure out what else gave that impression, and it was the haircut. He had Hitler hair, too. There was also a skinny guy with long blond hair in a Utilikilt. And speaking of odd sights, this morning I saw two clowns on the front porch of the Relles mansion (a really fancy house in East Sacramento). Clowns. Wigs, big shoes, everything. One of them was smoking a cigarette. They amused me less than they creeped me out.

There was also a horrible bitch that I decided not to tell off because we were having such a nice day. I had to ask Mom today whether I'd been mistaken in my impression, and Mom agreed that she was rotten. We were all in line for food, and at that point there were four adult women and four children. Well, she seemed to think we were welfare-abusing super-breeders or something. She kept making comments like "Oh, is it dads' day off?" and "Gee, you sure have a handful there." But in a snide, bitchy way. I just decided not to say anything because my friend who had three of the kids didn't seem to hear, and I certainly didn't want to give this whore any more attention than she deserved.

Then last night we had poker night! I'm hopeless at poker, but we always have fun with Sweetie's co-workers. We brought Monkeygirl, too, and we all had a good time. I even didn't lose too badly. Sweetie got tired at the end and sat out a few hands and pushed some of his chips at me, so I don't know exactly how much I ended up betting vs. how much I had at the end, but I suspect I just about broke even. We were there until just about midnight! Of course, last night was the end of daylight savings, so we got the extra hour later, but I was still pooped today. Know what got neglected? The laundry, which even now the cat is attempting to get hair on every inch of. Sigh. I'll see if I can get it all folded before bed.

Great Grandma York's recipes

Before I moved out of the house when I was a young adult, I copied many of my Great-Grandma York's recipes from my mom's cookbooks. I had a small cookbook of my own and copied them into it. Two of them, my favorites, I think, are applesauce cake and oatmeal cake. I don't make them all that often, but when I do, they are comforting and make the house smell all homey (not to mention cinnamony).

We've been reading "Like Water for Chocolate" in my IB class, and today was a shortened day, so I told the kids they could have a pot luck. There was just one catch: because we were reading a book with an emphasis on family recipes handed down over generations, they had to bring a family recipe. I made both cakes to bring. I changed them up a little -- Egg Beaters instead of whole eggs, whole wheat flour instead of white -- but they were good. But as I looked at the recipes, I thought to myself "Why didn't great grandma York have any recipes for chocolate? Sheesh, couldn't they get chocolate in Boone, Iowa in the early 20th century?" And then I realized, well, maybe not. Chocolate wasn't really popular in the U.S. until after WWII, from what I remember reading about it. Huh. How times change.

Speaking of chocolate, a horrible travesty was committed in the name of chocolate. I bought a bag of "Autumn Mix" leftover candy corn stuff at Target this evening. I wanted plain candy corn (I really like eating the colors separately and nibbling off the little white tips), but there was none. There were cocoa flavored ones and caramel flavored ones and Autumn Mix, which has the little pumpkins in it. The pumpkins are a distant second to the corn, but are at least a mallowcreme flavored mallowcreme. But what is the corn in my Autumn Mix?? It's the cocoa flavored kind! YUCK! It's a damn shame -- a horrific crime against both chocolate and mallowcreme. Bah!

Freaky dreams

Betsey Johnson 5
Originally uploaded by Daniella Zalcman

Man, I was warned that pregnancy dreams are strange, but it's no lie! I have strange dreams every night and don't always feel the need to record them, but last night's was noteworthy.

At first, I went to San Francisco to go shoe shopping, and fell in love with a red plaid wedge (sorry guys, I know this means nothing to you) but was really looking for a dressy sneaker. I went upstairs where they had more shoes and also some clothing, and on my way, I noticed my three stuffed animals, the Lankee Cats. What were they doing here on their own? I wondered. But I soon found out -- although Sweetie told me he didn't want to come to S.F., he changed his mind after I left and took the Greyhound down and was shopping in the very same store. I was happy to see him and continued my shopping, where I found a fabulous Betsey Johnson maternity dress in black velvet -- a knee-length a-line with a swatch of pink and antique lace on the bodice. It was only $65, so I was going to buy it and wear it at the holidays. Um... anyway.

Then I was going down the street with a teenage girl, and we were discussing why she couldn't rely on her mom. Her mom was never on time for anything. As we were talking, we were navigating the "street coaster," a roller coaster that took place on the streets of the city. You went over buses, above sidewalks, through some buildings. At the point in which we were supposed to be deposited into her mom's car, we were dumped unceremoniously on the sidewalk instead. Because her mom was late.

Then Sweetie and I were living in a large brick apartment building. It was a nice enough place, but there were some problems. For example, the staircases had 2 foot ceilings, so we had to crouch and crawl to get from the parking lot to our place. Also, when you were in the bathroom, you could see the parking garage very well (and they could see you) because there was a vent cover missing. And finally, it was a sort of communal living place, so you had to have consensus on everything with the other people in the building. We even had to agree to precisely what time it was, or we would "lose our time privileges."

Trick or Treating and a mysterious, energetic dog

Halloween Candy
Originally uploaded by terren in Virginia

Well, last night was a bit disappointing. I hurried home from ballet so I could be there right around 7, and I had... wait for it... 3 trick-or-treaters. I knew it would probably be slow as soon as I turned onto my street. My little street, which is not really a through street, was PITCH BLACK. About three people on the entire street had porch lights on. Even the street lights seemed dim. I thought to myself, "Well, I hope someone is willing to venture 3/4 of the way down this dark street to get my candy" but I knew it was probably fruitless. On the bright side (or is it?), I have a ton of candy left. And I got Reese's, Snickers, and Almond Joy.

This morning, Sweetie and I stepped outside and saw at the same time that my jack'o'lantern (that I purchased and carved 5 days ago!) had rotted off its perch and left a yucky pumpkin mess on the driveway. Which reminded me that I hadn't taken the garbage and recycling to the street for pick-up day. As we set about getting the garbage and recycling done, a dog ran across the street out of nowhere, straight into the garage, and right at me.

Now, let me preface this by saying that I don't dislike dogs, but I am not really a dog person, and as someone who's been attacked by dogs twice (pretty well mauled once) and charged once, I'm a little unnerved when strange dogs run at me. I yelled "Shoo. SHOO!" and then banged the recycling bin down between me and the dog. He paused, and in that pause Sweetie whistled, so he turned around and ran at Sweetie. It became quickly apparent that we wasn't attacking, he just really, really wanted to play and hang out with us. In fact, he almost followed me into the house at one point. Sweetie kept calling him back. At one point I heard him say "Oh, thank you," and turned to see that the dog had "fetched" an old shoe that was in the garage. In order for me to get out of the garage, Sweetie had to clap and say "Come on! Come on!" and start running down the street, whereupon the dog went happily running after him.

I am still not sure where the dog came from. One of my neighbors was out by her car loading stuff into it, but she didn't seem particularly interested in the whereabouts of the dog, so I don't think it was hers.