Rumors of My Disappearance

I keep meaning to post, really I do.

Honestly, it's not that I have no time, it's just that I have very little of it, on the whole, and I have just been choosing to frivol it away on other things recently.

The most remarkable event of the recent past is that I slipped on the steps on Sunday night (not carrying the baby, thank goodness) and fell on my head, back, and butt. I am happy to report that all three are relatively fine, but bruised and sore, along with my ego. Taking care of the baby while being a crotchety old sore person has been interesting, but I'm obviously still here to tell the tale.

Lord help me, Lost only just barely entertained me more than last week. I miss the old snappier dialogue from seasons past on Gilmore Girls. It also occurs to me that I barely remember any of the plot twists from Veronica Mars last year that are coming back up now, but I can't be bothered to go look them up. Hopefully I'll figure it all out in context.

In other television related news, I am cutting myself off from Battlestar Galactica. It's not that it isn't a good show. I honestly can't tell you whether it's good or not, because I simply can't take the beating that mothers have been taking on that show for the last five or six episodes or so. It just hits too close to home and it isn't worth having nightmares (no really, the premiere gave me horrible nightmares and I get too little sleep as it is to give up some of it to something preventable) just for some entertainment. I hope everyone else enjoys it but it's just too much for me, just like I gave up horror movies long ago for similar reasons. The real world is scary enough for me without watching someone get frog-marched away from their screaming baby in the middle of the night, thanks. For heaven's sake, in live in an area where a six day old baby was kidnapped after the crazy bitch who broke in to take her nearly stabbed the mother to death in order to do it, quickly followed by the death of a woman whose cousin cut the fetus from her stomach. I just can't take any more mother/baby-related drama. Six and Fatass!Apollo will have to get along without me.

In happier mother/baby news, B and I went to a new mom's group this morning where she caused some innocent mayhem. She was scooting around (as the babies who can crawl tend to do at this group) and she crawled right up to the speaker (it's an informal group, though, so this wasn't as mortifying as it sounds) and started patting his shoe before I got her and walked her back to our blanket. Everyone, including the speaker, seemed to think it was funny and life went on. I think we might have a stand-up comedian in the works. Or maybe she just likes shoes. It's hard to tell.

Tired now. 'Night.