Did you miss me?

I was gone for a few hours. Because...Vicki made me this. I was importing a bajillion posts, which took approximately forever. Please update your bookmarks and blogrolls accordingly. And let me know if you run into any bugs.

Important poll!

Well, question, as I am too lazy to set up a poll.

If two people who are expecting a baby any day now were to receive an Amazon gift certificate with an accompanying note congratulating them on the addition to their family, ought they buy:

• things for the baby
  or
  
• Deadwood season 2

?

EDIT: Two things!
1. We don't have TV so DVDs are the only television I can watch.
2. I am not remotely worried about the baby learning naughty language, except in the sense that I want it to learn to cuss eloquently.

Just don't ask where I am planning to put the baby.

I have a deadline today, which I will be lucky to make, so naturally all I want to do is blog.

I am listening to Peter and the Wolf. My CD drive is making all sorts of awful noises as it attempts to import a CD (Tori Amos). I wonder why it is so much trouble? I have been copying CDs to iTunes all morning (anything to avoid meeting that deadline).


The basket holds diapering things and I intend for it to stay right where it is for nighttime changes. The look-looks will be getting their own basket, which I will probably put on the floor. We have four frogs and counting.

I've ejected the CD and started on Ace & the Ragers, who are thusfar giving me no trouble at all. Because rockabilly is just better.

Where did THAT come from?

I think my body has just developed its own weirdo brand of nesting. I sure as hell haven't been cleaning, but yesterday I managed to leave the house and Do Stuff all day without running out of energy or getting grumpy. This would have been a miracle a year ago, nevermind during my pregnancy thusfar.

After being awake from 6:00 I got back in bed at 8:00 for snuggles and slept until after ten. I can't possibly tell you the last time I slept past 8:30 or so, and even that has been rare.

We went to Felt Club, which meant exposure to lots of direct sunlight, which normally makes me feel as though I'm going to pass out inside of twenty minutes. We were there for about an hour (sadly not buying anything) and though I was hot I felt fine. Then we went out for lunch with Cory, who met us at Felt Club, and her husband, who met us at lunch. I had the most amazingly delicious stuffed grilled cheese sandwich.

Then we picked up some things we needed at the store and went home to regroup. At this point Will was exhausted (he also spent all day Friday on his feet at E3) and I was still going strong. (What the hell?)

We changed into nice clothes and stopped at another store for further supplies before going to the monthly "Home birth Meet-up" at our midwife's assistant's house and playing with all the pretty babies for an hour or so. Then we went to our baby shower.

I would like to suggest to anyone having a baby that you befriend Saria when you are about 12 years old and remain friends your entire lives and have her and her wonderful boyfriend, Brian, throw you a party when you have a baby. First of all, she understood my weird issues with comfort levels and having parties thrown for me at all and being the center of attention (an odd issue for such an attention whore, but trust me, I can't stand it). She let me do as much of the planning as I needed to in order to feel good about things (which turned out to not be that much, just knowing I had the option of control was fine). Brian made the most amazing food. We invited our friends, not just girls. The party was as much for Will as for me. There were no stupid games. And she totally gave a speech, her first ever, which was wonderful. Oh! And she gave Will a cigar, and Brian gave him a gorgeous hat which I will take a picture of later.

We got some terrific baby loot. Cute clothes, little soft toys, and some other goodies. Best present ever was also Saria's doing - she bought a beautiful bound journal and had everyone write or draw something in it for Froggy. (Jeffrey, who is a professional animator, drew Pinky and the Brain. Y'all should have seen Shelby's face when he realized that this was not some fan drawing but the real thing. And frankly, I did a stupid little dance myself. You might call it a fan dance.)

We came home and emptied the car, made a quick beer run, and then I stayed up for a bit decompressing. It was well after midnight when I went to bed. Sure, I was exhausted, but just at a "normal" level. I can only figure that errands and soforth are my version of nesting, because there is no other explanation.

And I totally slept till 10:00 again today.

And then it hit us.

Will unpacks the box, reads the instructions, and starts assembling.

Suddenly, there is a playpen in our living room.

Neither of us anticipated this. (Not the least because what we are assembling isn't a playpen in its primary function, but nevermind.) We don't know how to react. We are getting a real, honest-to-god baby.

We finish assembling and wrestle it into the bedroom. I spend most of the night waking up and touching it.



Tomorrow it gets bedding. I hate the nasty blinds but we won't be here for long. I'm not sure what happened to my pillow... (Also: you will probably have observed that the co-sleeper is taller than our bed, and might have wondered why we didn't get the Universal Co-Sleeper, which is shorter. The short answer is that I am stupid, the long answer is that we wanted a box spring anyway and we're going to order one as soon as we have the chance.)

Quote of the Day

Will, after we got the Co-Sleeper assembled: "Kulia can come over and make out with you any time."

And also!

We really need to

• figure out who is getting a phone call when the baby arrives

But first, more napping. And then when Will gets home we can tackle the list.

oops.

Maybe that list should look more like:

• lunch
  
• nap
  
• second lunch

I'm not in labor yet, but it doesn't look likely that anything but eating and sleeping is going to happen today.

Actual to-do list, not to be confused with all those wishful thinking to-do lists

• Buy hose, drop cloth, bulb aspirator, diaper thingy
  
• Clean bedroom and set up co-sleeper
  
• Laundry
  
• Order glider
  
• Buy more Morningstar Farms frozen foods
  
• Get stuff for Saria
  
• Sew PUL backings onto flannel pieces
  
• Mail cards
  
• Get over the idea of having announcements ready
  
• Clean bathroom
  
• vacuum

Here's the interactive part: Will's mom is sending us a check for the glider we liked. Despite our insistence that we would split the cost, she is sending the full amount, though we will be buying the footstool ourselves. Anyway, we need to choose fabric for the cushion. I am of two minds: get something extremely neutral to match any decor, or get something adorable and just recover it later. I am leaning toward the latter because they have this blue and white print fabric that is the cat and the fiddle, the dish and the spoon, and the cow jumping over the moon. I could get this nightlight to go with it! (I will get that nightlight whether I get this fabric or not.) What do you think?

Man, my bathroom mirror is FILTHY.

But look at that fat-cheeked grin. I can't wait for this baby. Housecleaning be damned.

I suck!

First I buggered up my email so I am not receiving everything.

Now I have started (inadvertantly!) deleting comments instead of approving them.

Argh.

gestation update

Unlike some people, I am not having a baby today. (I know the day isn't over yet, so it's possible, but I kinda doubt it.) I almost expected to, because my mother had me two weeks early, and Will's mother had him two weeks early, and here it is two weeks till my due date. I've been having "practice" contractions, and one woke me up in the night (or, you know, coincided with having to pee, you be the judge), but it was the third I'd felt in 24 hours so I'm not running to the telephone or anything. I haven't even noticed most of them unless I happen to touch my belly, which gets hard as a rock.

Baby, please stay inside at least through the weekend. I have stuff to do. I know that's a terrible attitude, but some of that stuff involves preparing for your arrival and it would really make me feel more secure to have it done. OK?

But really? We're still aiming for 6/6/06. At 6:16, the real number of the beast.

You can still place your bets.

(P.S. Did you notice I went one whole day without talking about pregnancy?)

This is how we do things in the country.

I am one of those people who believes that my art has integrity and won't compromise it. That is why I make so little art.

Generally speaking, my art is the written word. Except for this blog, I have been extremely neglectful of writing lately. In January I started a screenplay that should have been finished within the month, but instead is still on page 6. Even though I know what is going to happen, I know the characters, I know the world. It even might be commercial enough to get some notice. But I do not write it.

The problem with writing for the screen is that you lose all control the second you sell your script. Now, on the one hand, you sold it. Bye! Now get over it. On the other hand, think of playwrites. Do you think there is a director on earth who would listen to a stage actor who said, "I just don't think my character would react this way." Um, no, there isn't. But if a movie actor said that, rewrites would be done and the entire character or plotline or movie might be lost because of an actor's ego. If a film director couldn't visualize something a writer put into the script, instead of calling the writer and saying, "Hey, how did you mean this?" he would make it fit his own vision, whether that works with the story or not. (Yes, there are exceptions, though rare, and yes, there are female directors - I am just using the masculine throughout for my own convenience.)

A lot of brilliant people will never get their ideas in front of large audiences because they refuse to work within the system. Rob Schrab created SCUD the Disposable Assassin, a favorite comic book of my teens. He also wrote Heat Vision & Jack, a Fox pilot Ben Stiller directed that was up for the Sunday night 8:30 slot that went instead to Malcolm in the Middle. HV&J went on to assorted film festivals and became a major cult hit (thanks in small part to pirated VHS tapes mysteriously sent out to everyone we know). When Rob and his very bitter (but painfully good looking*) writing partner Dan Harmon failed to make the bigtime they created Channel 101. Another cult hit. They keep trying to get a real movie made, and keep failing because they are "difficult," meaning they don't want to compromise on what they know will work just because some non-creative Suit at a studio has an opinion.

Out here in the land of Holly, you are supposed to pay your dues before you get to be the boss. Now, this makes sense in business. Prove yourself and you will get a chance to...um, prove yourself. But when the people calling the shots are half-bright agents and studio execs who couldn't get a job managing a McDonald's where they come from, there is a problem. The creative people create, and the creations are then mangled to an unrecognizable state or shelved entirely and we have to see yet another Meg Ryan Kate Hudson romantic comedy whose plot I could shit out before breakfast.

So what do we, the creative people, do? (I myself do nothing, but this is not a solution in the long-term. I will eventually be miserable. So I ask in the abstract.) Do we sit through the inane bullshit that Hollywood constructs from our brilliance? Do we continue to pray for a few thousand dollars for our words, only to have some jackass with perfect teeth mangle them for millions? Or do we stand up for ourselves, insist on creative control, and languish away with only the possibility of cult status but no money or recognition? Because no one will give us creative control until we have "earned" it by giving it all away. And even then, probably not. It's a crappy choice.

*I am hoping that he googles himself.

The one where I was an honest-to-god stalker, but just for an hour.

When I was 13 my friend Gabe and I (Gabe is a girl) followed a boy (maybe 15) through Manhattan because we thought he was cute. We spotted him on the bus, though I can't imagine why we were on the bus since she lived half a block from school. Maybe we'd gone somewhere? Maybe we were going to my apartment? Anyway, we got off the bus when he did and followed him to a private school where he picked up a little girl (presumably his sister). Then we RAN to catch the bus he boarded, making ourselves extremely obvious. Then we got off at their stop. When he got to his building, he picked up the little girl, turned, and waved at us.

The end.

Actual words that came out of my mouth today.

"I'm sorry. I'm nine months pregnant."

I was trying to excuse myself for first handing the cashier an expired credit card and then, instead of giving her my other credit card, handing her back the same one.

It occurs to me that when she asked if I needed help out to the car, she might have been expressing concern rather than following protocol.

Shopping list

• flax seed oil
  
• hose
  
• shower curtain or plastic dropcloth
  
• diaper depository
  
• lanoline
  
• (Lilypadz)
  
• arnica
  
• Burt's Bees butt cream
  
• towels
  
• baby soap
  
• thermometer, nail scissors, bulb thingy, and any other baby med supplies
  
• (maybe a pump and some bottles)
  
• cards
  
• $3.65/gallon gasoline *faint*

insomnia

I am starting to think that being kept up all night by the baby would be preferable to this. At least I will have someone to talk to! I've been up since about 4:00 and by the time I am able to fall asleep again I won't be able to as I have a 9:30 appointment.

I am still doggedly trying (sloooowly) to make the sewn wrap-style diaper covers. I have gotten as far as cutting out the pieces, and it isn't going well. Between the laminate fabric (slippy!) and the knit fabric (stretchy and uncooperative) I nearly had a nervous breakdown on Saturday. Luckily Will noticed the signs of exhaustion and forced me to go to bed. Even at my most awake and refreshed, though, this is not going so well. I don't think I will be starting a career as a seamstress anytime soon. I'm doing just fine with the simpler sewing jobs, luckily, though my seams are still a bit unpredictable.

We looked at (that is, sat in) gliders on Sunday and like the most expensive one in the store. (I don't know that, but I didn't want to ask if any cost more than this one as it is plenty pricey.) Typical.

Will nearly cried when he saw how tiny baby socks are.

I did cry when I got the mail yesterday and had my first Mother's Day card.

My foot spontaneously swelled up the other day. Just the one. I took a bath and it went away. I also had three sips of wine and I think it got me drunk. Oopsie.

That's all I've got. I'm so tired I could cry.

The tards get iChat

Only Will and I could manage to take an hour to get onto each other's Buddy lists.

Nobody blogs on Sundays.

I was getting annoyed, and then it occurred to me that I was part of the problem. And so I blog. (Also, it seems that when I don't update people think I have gone into labor, which is hilarious because it isn't looking like we will have a baby before June, or before my hip gives out, whichever comes first.)

This has been a really delicious weekend. On Friday I made Will a delicious redmeat treat of fillet mignon. I made myself a delicious treat of mashed purple potatoes. I also made a LOT of kale. Kale is our new favorite vegetable. Kale is delicious. I have always liked kale, but now I love it and want to marry it. As does Will.

On Saturday Will made wings. He also fixed delicious "Virtue Burgers," also known as Morningstar Farms Grillers, also known as The Burger That Saved Will's Cholesterol. But before all that happened I went to Burbank and met up with Sachi for yarn shopping (hers) and lunch. We ate at a little place across the street from Unwind Yarn called Thai Room. Will and I have been there a few times and it is totally delightful. Sachi has had an aversion to Thai food for some time and now claims to be converted. (I would like to mention how annoyed I am that I have made a new friend and she is moving to another state. It hardly seems fair.)

Today we ate Greek food for lunch and I am fixing a pasta sauce of tomatoes, garlic, and pine nuts (with pasta of course) and broccoli for my supper. Will is eating more chickens.

Life is good.

I need four million dollars.

RIGHT NOW.

Awesome search stats!

germany lolita fuck films - Yahoo! Search Results

All over Battersea, some hope and some despair.

Mama: 181.5
Baby: 6.5
Daddy: DATA UNAVAILABLE

37 weeks: pictures

Belly!


And of course, Great Cthulhu (who I know isn't actually an octopus):

Things.

Yesterday brought more delights - the UPS redelivery was the co-sleeper. The box had two address labels on it (I don't know why). The labels were right next to each other. One of them had my full address including apartment number. The other just had my street address. The box was held because there was no apartment number. Dear UPS: You are lacking in basic reading comprehension skills.

Though I will do it properly (ha ha, someday when I find the cards and some stamps and my brain), I would like to say thank you now to Kulia and Andrea (and anyone who may have been involved in the purchase that I am not aware of). It is a wee bit strange that a cousin I didn't meet till adulthood and a chick I used to make out with at concerts met each other and conspired to buy a gift for my baby, but it is also really incredibly cool and so kind.

The post office also brought me a present. A present! For me! A few weeks ago I'd sent Will a link to Day-Lab, pointing him to this necklace because I thought it was the coolest thing I'd ever seen and knew he would like it too. He very sneakily ordered it for me. And it was a surprise! I emphasise this because we are not very good at surprising each other or in fact being romantic in the traditional ways at all. Normally this is fine but I am over the moon at how thoughtful he is right now. Plus, it looks something like Great Cthulhu.

In other news, last night was Stitch 'n Bitch at the Farmer's Market.

I had some decent pizza that failed to satisfy my craving for real New York pizza (despite being positively dripping with grease). So later I am going to Albano's. And for good measure I have a tentative date to go to Albano's again on Monday with Cory. Pizza, pizza.

I impressed the guy sitting next to me (Ben? I am so bad with names) by referring to my necklace as an Elder God. Lovecraft references do tend to surprise people. I wonder if it is because so few people in general know of his writing, or because I am a girl. Something to think about! (Did anyone else watch Cartoon Planet? Everyone I mention Space Ghost to thinks I am referring to Coast to Coast, an excellent show in its own right but I think inferior.)

Will and I saw some movies.

He wrote about them.

Holy packages, Batman!

Yesterday was Delivery Day. Not the baby kind, but the baby gift kind. (Can you imagine if I'd already had the baby? Me neither.)

First came UPS with the homebirth kit (lots of waterproof things) and a box of diapers from my crack dealer Mom. These things are so fabulous. I am trying to convince her to purchase a license to use the pattern and go pro.

In the afternoon the post office brought a box of unbearably cute clothing from Will's mother and a box of assorted handknit soakers from Joni. They are super-cute and I believe her babies used them, which makes them extra special.

Today I'm expecting UPS again (scheduled redelivery), though I don't have the slightest idea what they're bringing this time.

This having a baby thing is an awful lot like Christmas.

Not a creature was stirring, not even the goddamn fish.

This ninth month insomnia stuff is really adorable. So cute I'd like to stick a fork in its eye.

It wouldn't be so bad if I could get stuff done while I am Not Asleep. However, I can't make noise or do anything that requires leaving the house, thinking, concentrating, or pants. This doesn't leave many activities. Pretty much mindless staring at the computer, and knitting. I am doing both, and still bored.

Will has just woken up. His throat is bothering him and he can't sleep without me. And Hedley (the fish) just stirred. So perhaps it is morning. Yay.

The grandparents (my in-laws) are sending us a check for nursery furniture. I've been asked to tell them what we need and how much the check should be for. (Tempting!) I think we will use the money for a rocking chair, as I have always wanted one and now seems a good time to have it (though with my luck we will get a baby who is only soothed by pacing). On the other hand, it would be nice to have a good dresser, or put the money toward the stroller. What do you think?

(By the way, I am going to leave anonymous comments and comment moderation both on for the time being. Living on the edge!)

guessing time!

Today my chiropractor predicted that the baby will be born on the 12th.

I thought it would be fun for everybody to get in on that action, so I am opening the floor up for guesses/predictions/anticipation.

The due date is May 25.

Will and I were both born two weeks early.

I estimate that the baby weighs close to six pounds right now. Will was 7lb10oz, I was 8lb.

I would like to offer a prize to the person who guesses correctly. However, I don't have any prize ideas. So put your guess in for the fun of it, and I will try to come up with something to offer the winner. Just to be clear, the winner will NOT be getting a baby as the prize. I'm only getting the one and it is MY prize, thank you.

You only have to guess a date.

You can guess a time, too, if you like.

Multiple people can guess the same date, but not the exact same time.

For extra credit, you may guess the sex of the baby.

Anonymous/non-Blogger comments are allowed (please post your name). Comment moderation is turned on, which means comments will not appear until I approve them.