Due Date

So, I have a (tentative) due date.

Tentative because I am a moron and I don't keep track of the basic things women are sorta supposed to keep track of.

Looks like December 27 or thereabouts. Guess I won't be spending this Christmas in Florida. Oh well, I suppose it will do.

I feel kinda guilty. My oldest brother was born on December 22, and he used to get combo birthday/Christmas presents from people not in the immediate family. He used to joke that he felt gypped. I guess a present is a present, though, right? And maybe you get nicer, bigger presents because people feel like they should be if they should cover two holidays.

Two Plus One = Three

Well, as kosmo so accurately called it, there are a limited number of things that I could possibly be withholding as a big-news-surprise kind of thing.

So, to put the rumors tripping over the phone lines and internet to rest, yes, it's true.

I'm actually an alien from the planet Zingmar. I have come for your unripe bananas and TiVo.

Wait. Wrong confession.

Tom and I are going to have a baby. I have a big purple bruise on my left arm from the blood test that proved it yesterday. It's still very early and I haven't had my first appointment yet, but those of you who know me will probably not be surprised to learn that I am already receiving two different pregnancy e-mail newsletters, have about twelve new sites bookmarked, have a list of don'ts open in the background that I am constantly adding things to, and I'm more than a hundred pages into What to Expect When You're Expecting, which I purchased approximately ten hours ago, six of which I've spent asleep.

Wow. Longest sentence ever.

Were we trying? Kinda. It was an "if it happens, it happens" sort of thing. What's extremely funny is that I got the results of the blood test about six weeks after we had the aforementioned "if it happens, it happens" talk, when we stopped taking precautions.

How did I know to go and take the test? Well, it wasn't for the reason most of you probably think, as I have been so stressed out and clueless that I haven't really been paying attention to the calendar. And that's as gracefully as I can address that issue.

As it turns out, I went to a crit (a bicycle race where you do a set number of laps around a half mile to mile long course, for any of you who may not know the lingo) this past Tuesday night. At the first acceleration, I stood up to bring up my speed and the whole world started to twirl around me. I sat back down and kind of shakily made the next turn, but the pack was gone.

"That's odd," I thought. "I know I've been riding less, but I should be able to respond to a relatively mild acceleration to 25 miles per hour from 22."

I fought it out for a lap or two to try to catch up, but it was no good. I sat up to wait for the pack to come back around, so I could catch back on and try to help my teammate win the race. They came, and then went. As soon as I sped back up, the dizziness set back in with a vengeance. I let them go and decided that I would just try to stay out of the way and complete my laps until they pulled me before the final sprint.

Three laps later, when I nearly lost my balance coming around the one true 90 degree turn, I pulled my bike to the side of the road, got off, sat on the grass, put my head in my hands, and tried not to regurgitate the oatmeal and brown rice that were in my stomach.

The two lovely ladies who were supporting our race at the check in table (friends of mine) came and got me, sat me down, got me some water and some energy bars to try to revitalize me. I was quizzed about what I ate, and scolded once I revealed that it hadn't been that much, and not an ounce of protein in there to keep me going along with the carbs. I just kept shaking my head and wondering what could possibly be wrong, because I've never been that dizzy or felt quite that bad before in my entire life.

"Why didn't you eat more?"

Jane asked me that, and I revealed that I'd kind of lost my appetite for the couple of days preceeding.

"Aw, it's probably just a little bug. You'll be okay."

Tom drove straight there from work and followed me home, as I still felt a little shaky and didn't want to drive without someone keeping an eye on me or telling me to pull over if I was driving unsafely.

The next day, when I felt all queasy at the thought of food again, I got to thinking about the possible causes. There's a drugstore nearby work, so after I went out and got my lunch, I stopped and bought myself a couple of my old pal, EPT.

The plan was to take the test the next morning. However, they give you a couple of tests in a pack, so I thought, "Why not take one now?"

I went in the bathroom and took the test. Stood there staring at it as the results started to appear. There's supposed to be a control line, and then another window in which a line will appear if you are pregnant. As a faint, but distinct line appeared in the second window, I thought with distress, "Holy crap, is that a line, or isn't it? Why don't sparks come out of this thing if you're pregnant? That would be hard to miss. This line crap isn't cutting it."

So I came out, hands shaking, and handed the test to a friend of mine named Kristine to help me interpret. She (along with everyone else) didn't know that I had revised my "I don't think I'm ready for that" position, and she was reluctant to tell me how much it looked like a line. Consulting the instructions gave me the information that if you drink a lot of water (check) and take the test in the middle of the day (check) that the results will not be as clear. You are, as I knew but was too impatient to stick to, supposed to take the test first thing in the morning.

I get a fitful night's sleep that evening, waiting to wake up and take the test. The alarm goes off, I get up, and three minutes later, I see the world's most luridly pink pair of lines known to this planet. I spent the day trying to get my doctor's office on the phone, and finally arrange to have a blood test yesterday morning (Friday).

I arrive at their office the next morning, bushy tailed and waiting for confirmation. They send me across the street to the lab, where I nearly get lost even though I'm using the clearest directions ever and the nice lady tried to show me the building I was heading for out the window of the doctor's office. This is how bad I am with directions.

On the way over, I skipped over a song on my mix CD because I didn't think I wanted the baby to hear it. I switch to the classical music station instead, using my unfair advantage of having the baby with me at all times to impart my taste in music instead of Tom's. I'm not sure the world needs one more Violent Femmes fan, although Blister in the Sun isn't terrible.

Another nice lady takes my blood with an absolute minimum of fuss and pain, although I have a royal bruise to show for it now. She tells me that they will report my results to the doctor at around 2:00, and they will call me a half hour to an hour later.

This, of course, sounds like an eternity. I smile at the nice lady anyway, even though I once took a friend of mine to a free clinic while we were in college to get her a blood draw pregnancy test and we found out those results in an hour, and it turned out to be absolutely accurate, but I digress.

I stuck my cellphone in my jeans pocket, which makes them even more uncomfortably tight, and set out on the LONGEST DAY EVER.

11:00. Torture. I smile at people bringing their kids in to look at bikes. I note how much my back hurts already, and find myself leaning against things or sitting down.

12:00. Day so slow. Nibbling on bagel chips even though I'm not really hungry.

1:00. Lunchtime. I have a sudden, undeniable craving for boneless buffalo wings at Chili's. Everything else makes me feel sick. This baby has to have a taste for spicy food, because I normally don't like it.

2:00. Come back from lunch, now the news seems closer but still so far away.

3:00. I get impatient, call the doctor's office. I'm told that the results for the day have been delivered, and the nurse is still going through them. I'm supposed to get a call "shortly".

4:00. I am just about insane. It finally occurs to me that I never told the office to call me on my cell phone. This is because I am a moron. I am also too inept to remember how to check my messages on my answering machine at home from a remote number, so I call the office and explain that I think I gave them the wrong number. The nurse, in kind of an "I've done this so many times, so here's the news, and why don't you celebrate it with someone you know" kind of way, tells me that yes, the test was positive. She schedules me for my first appointment, and I hang up.

Everything else since then has been a whirlwind of some lovely advice from Cheryl, wanting more hot wings, and then a sudden craving for a Frostie from Wendy's around about 10:45. We did get through to Tom's parents last night (between the craving for hot wings and for the frostie, but after the advice) but I haven't been able to get mine on the phone yet. Thank goodness they don't know about this blog, because this would be a really sucky way to find out about a grandchild, wouldn't it?

So, you know. I hope this isn't the first sign of the downfall of Western Civilization. I'll try not to screw it up.

REALLY Big News

So, I do believe we have some news of the extremely large variety.

Okay, so it's not going to effect the rotation of the earth, but it's big for us.

Here's the part where I'm going to be mean. I want to tell everyone I can in person, or at least in a personal email, so I'm going to wait a bit before I just blurt it out here.

Why did I say anything then?

Because I had to say something. It's that big.

Guesses?

Veronica and Logan, Sittin' in a Tree

...k i s s i n g

Am I the only one who cares? I'm visiting message boards, waiting for people to say something, and NOTHING.

Maybe I'm the only one who's been suckered in.

Here's what's weird. I didn't even like Logan at first. I mean, obviously I didn't think he was a great guy; he wasn't supposed to be. But I didn't like the way he was playing it (I didn't think at the time, anyway). I thought he was way too smirky, and I wasn't buying it. Was he supposed to be a badass, or not?

Then they killed off his mom and made him human, and made me watch that scene outside the motel room last week approximately one jillion times. All right, you caught me. One jillion and one.

And tonight! That moment when they started laughing, that "what the holy fuck am I doing" moment...that felt really real to me.

So, so good.

Which means, of course, they will break up horribly and break my heart. But until then...

Taken, plus bonus DDR highlights

For those of you waiting with bated breath for the outcome of my job search, I took the job I was offered last Friday. I talked with the woman again today and she answered my last questions. I negotiated an extra week of vacation (which was a sticking point that I wasn't willing to budge on, and she took it good-naturedly enough that I suspect she was expecting me to negotiate a bit) and that made me happy enough with the offer to take it.

I'll be moving into purchasing and online sales management for a company that has educational accessory stores. I have the opportunity to grow the online side of their business, and it sounds as though they are really interested in supporting it. That is a good thing, as I think I could be into that.

Best thing, casual dress at the office. Everyone there was in jeans, including the president, when I had my interview last Wednesday. I was specifically told not to bother dressing up on my first day. Also, I will have one day off completely between jobs, which means...

LEVEL 40 World of Warcraft, baby! It's within my reach, especially if I beg G to drag me around a little bit more so I can play over my head a little. Mad EXP that way.

Now, for the promised DDR highlights, mostly because Evan just posted his and I feel the need to reciprocate:

1) Full combo on Jet World Heavy
2) New A record on Tsugaru Heavy, with 1 good and 1 boo
3) Passed (with a D, but passed nonetheless) V Challenge
4) Full combo, You're Not Here Heavy

I need to play more Max and Max 2, but I'm really rather addicted to seeing the calorie count the way it's displayed in Extreme. I hope they do it the same way in the next one. Anyone know when the next one is coming out? I could do with some new songs. There is the Red Octane game, In the Groove, coming out next month, and hopefully that will sate me.

Is that enough wandering rambling? Yes, I think so.

The Job

I was offered the job; I need to talk to them more tomorrow and decide if I will take it. There's things about it I'd like, and things I wouldn't.

There is an awful lot of flux at the moment. More than I am possibly built for. I fear that I would be taking the job largely to create some certainty, and not solely because it is a good decision.

But then I think, "Well, what the hell? If you don't like it, you're just back where you are right now, looking for another position, and at least it's a change of pace and buys you some time."

Or maybe I should just chuck it all and see if there's a position on Mir for a snarky pain in the ass.

Interview

I had an interview this afternoon for a new job. It started off one way, and as I started to talk with the woman (president of the company, and really nice) we got along so well that it probably ran about a half hour too long.

She really seemed to like me and even started to consider rethinking the job openings she has to better fit the things I have experience with.

This is a good example of why I should occasionally just dive in and follow my instincts. The job ad didn't sound very promising, but something told me that it wouldn't take very long to e-mail my resume. When they called to offer me the interview, I decided that, at the very least, it would be good practice.

Turns out, the company is small enough to be flexible, large enough, and growing still, that there are lots of opportunities. I don't want to jinx it, but I really think they'll be calling and it would be a good thing to do, at least for awhile.

While I write that porn novel, make a million bucks, and retire so I can play World of Warcraft all day, that is. Heh.

Change? Who needs it?

I have come to the startling conclusion that I am a status quo individual.

I never really saw myself that way, but all evidence available confirms it. I stayed in a job with a commute I didn't like, a company I didn't particularly like (although the people were largely great and made things worth it) for just under 10 years. I like routines, exercise at the same time every day, take vitamins at the same time every day, get ready in the same order.

I find myself resisting the absolute need for change whenever I face it, like now, as I'm looking for a job. I am, sadly, completely aimless unless I force myself not to be. I would much rather bury myself in something familiar and luxuriate in the comforting sameness or predictablility of it.

Maybe it's all just because I don't have a clear direction. Most people would leave a job and think, "Well, I'll have another one of those, just a different one in a different place." But when your degree is in Classical Voice Performance and they don't exactly advertise for that in the paper, especially when you've tried to teach voice and realized you didn't like doing that either, and your job history is anything from answering telephones to writing fairly complex web/database applications, it's difficult to see a clear direction there.

I did try to look under snarky bitch in the job listings, but no one seems to need that right now...at least, not specifically that.

Seven

In honor of our seventh wedding anniversary yesterday, here are seven things I like about my husband.

1. He steals all my best lines but delivers them better than I did, proving we're a good team.
   
2. He puts up with two cats even though he has allergy issues.
   
3. When my soda was far away from me last night and I was already sitting down with my laptop in my lap, he handed me his. This is the twenty-first century version of laying your coat down over a puddle.
   
4. He's just as likely to want to blow money on new, cool gadgets as I am, so we don't ever fight about adding a new doodad (like TiVo, for instance) to the arsenal.
   
5. We pick up each other's hobbies; not out of obligation or grudgingly, just to spend time together. Because when one of us gets a new hobby we usually make it seem so fun that the other one can't help but want to do it.
   
6. He's really the only person who can pull me out of a bad mood.
   
7. He listens to my rants, which, let's face it, can be long.
   

There's a bunch of stuff too sappy for this very public list, but I'll leave that to the imagination.

Moments

I just finished reading Ender's Game for about the fourth time. My most recent reading before this was several years ago, and each time I finish it, I hope that enough time will pass before I decide to read it again that I will be surprised at certain points in the book.

I'm sure we all have moments we all wish we could have back, exactly the way they happened the first time. I went to a party once that I wish I had on a full-sensory DVD, for example, just so I could pop it in and have it all back again. Ender's Game is the same way. I have hazy memories of staying up too late because I had to know what would happen next, and not seeing the surprises coming before they came off the pages of the book and into my mind's eye.

It's kind of sad that moments like that only happen once. You find yourself at book stores, squinting at covers and wondering if there's another one in there, behind the cheesy pictures of dragons or spaceships, waiting for you to reach in and take it. More often than not, even if the book is recommended, there isn't anything as good as the ones that have stuck in your memory, and you're left with only the opportunity to look again in another book and hope for the best.