Cabinetgate

An emotional, hormonal, slightly off-kilter pregnant woman should never go to an estate sale when she has to leave the house to allow potential buyers to walk through it and decide not to buy it. Odd things happen when friends let friends go to estate sales.

I bought a perfectly lovely little table for $10. It fit in the back seat of my car. I also purchased a lighthouse stained glass thingie that I will refuse to list here what I paid for it because one of the people I gave it to will read this. (It didn't break the bank though, don't worry.) It really should have stopped there.

I passed what is known in the estate sale biz as the "bid box" in the kitchen on the way out with my stuff. Then I remembered the cabinet that was in the kitchen that I saw first thing when they finally called my number and let me in the house.

I put in what I felt sure was a too-low bid on the cabinet and left without really thinking about it. I have no idea how I thought I would get that cabinet back to my house in the event that they decided to sell it for me for my proposed price. I honestly thought it would sell for its marked price and that would be the last I would see of it.

Well...that picture of the cabinet above was taken in my garage, so I think you can all see that I did have to think about that cabinet again.

I got a call while I was over at CK and LWC's and picked it up HOPING it was my agent telling me there was an offer on my house. Instead, it was a nice lady telling me I could buy the cabinet for my ridiculously low bid price if I could finagle find someone to help me with it.

We ate dinner and I ruminated on this. The cabinet will be helpful in the new house. I have movers coming who will move it for us with no additional fuss when we head out. If I could get it back to the house, it would be a win/win. I tried to think of people I know who have access to appropriate vehicles, but as I am already busy carrying the baby, I also had to find someone who wouldn't mind carrying most of the weight of a cabinet for two pretty short stretches.

I thought for a bit, and remembered my friend from Tennessee's hatchback with fold-down seats. You should really never buy a vehicle like this, or desperate pregnant women will call you and ask for favors you don't owe them. He agreed, I was delighted, and the pickup basically went without a hitch. My friend (who I'm not mentioning here by name because I don't know his policy on using his name online) was a real trooper because it was crowded at the sale and sort of warm for moving furniture largely on one's own. He also had to drive down General Booth with the back of his car hanging open, and did an absolutely splendid job. And finally, he was the only one of the two of us smart enough to realize the cabinet had a built-in light and was still tethered to the wall by the cord as we were trying to move it out of the house where I bought it. So, smart and helpful!

I did take him to lunch to thank him, but as he will probably read this, thank you again! My cabinet thanks you! The mister thanks you! Thank you for enabling my temporary estate sale-induced insanity. I promise I won't do it again. Honest.

(I don't think there are any good estate sales next weekend anyway.)

Everyone is being really nice right now and stepping in to help and I would really just like to take this opportunity to thank all of you who have offered or given me help during this stressful transition time. I won't be here too much longer for you to call the favors back, so I know it is especially selfless.

Like Floss for the Mind

So, CK's LWC and I were watching Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban today and I remembered something I'd wondered about the last time I watched it.

You know when you see someone in a movie and you think, "What else have I seen them in?" I had that very familiar, universal moment when Mrs. Weasley was clucking over Harry in the pub near the beginning of the movie. It took a moment to place it, but I suddenly realized that she was probably Rita from Educating Rita. I meant to IMDB it, but I forgot to do it just then.

I finally remembered to check on it tonight, and as some of you may already be thinking, "How could she not know that was the same person?" I should tell you that she is indeed the same person.

Even though I was pretty sure I was right even before I checked, I still felt that tiny little moment of relief and triumph when I confirmed it. What is it that silly little things like that can make you feel so much more clear? It's like proof that your brain is still working, still finding connections and patterns.

Mindless Bitching

I took a nap this afternoon, after sort of a weird, restless night. I fell asleep around 1:15 p.m., awoken only at about 1:50 p.m. when my cellular rang.

It was our realtor. I just had this weird feeling when I picked it up that it wasn't "there's an offer on your house," but something annoying instead. I was right about that.

"You're at work, aren't you? I'm just double-checking."

"No, I told you that I'd given my notice and I wasn't going to work again."

(I'm thinking, in the back of my mind, "Isn't that why we stressed that it was really important for you to give me as much notice as possible about people making appointments?" I remember talking to her about this on Monday. I realize we aren't her only concern, but if she can't remember that one thing, I'm sure there's someone who can.)

"Oh, no! There's someone coming between 2 and 3."

I think I just blinked a few times and looked at the clock again. It said 1:53. I had been drooling into my pillow about four minutes before that. The house wasn't really set up at all (all the lights on, all that BS) and my laptop was sitting open on the bed (we don't leave it in the house during showings...too easy to steal).

"Do you want me to call them?"

"Uh, yeah," I told her, with what I'm sure was a 'duh' tone of voice.

She did call them and she bought me some time. I got dressed, packed up the computer, got into the car, and drove away to my safe haven (thanks CK and LWC!) I stayed there until I felt the coast was clear, playing Mario Kart Double Dash (damn Bowser combo kept challenging me). Got home and got settled again, only to have my phone ring again. It was the realtor again.

"I just got a voice mail telling me some people want to see your house, but it sounds like they're on their way over there now! I'm going to call them back but I wanted to tell you just in case they showed up there in the next few minutes."

I had just enough time to complain to the mister on instant messenger when my phone rang again.

"Ah, it sounds like they want to come tomorrow. And someone else wants to come between 9-11 in the morning. Okay?"

Won't someone please just buy this bitch so I don't have to leave my bloody house for random blocks of hours? It is a real pain in the ass when things are in such flux and I am really feeling run down and tired all the time. This is part of why I was looking forward to having some time where I wasn't working before the move, so I could rest up a bit.

It is not really working out that way.

Whine whine whine.

I'm beginning to hate every single wall, door, and nail in this place.

The Whammy

First off, those of you whom I saw last night, it was a great time. Thank you for putting up with my heartburn troubles when I first got there. I am really, really glad that it subsided enough for me to truly enjoy being there and have a good time.

Also, I know why you should never talk about the no-hitter now. We got word last night that an offer on the house would be coming through today. We told several people about it and I actually let the feeling of relief wash over me.

Hah! Chump.

I had a call on the answering machine when I got home from the airport that the offer would be written this afternoon instead of this morning, so I didn't really start to feel oogy about it until five o'clock rolled around. Six o'clock...seven. At eight I talked to the mister, and we decided one of us should call our realtor. I'd been holding off because I believed she wouldn't sit on new information. I mean, if she knew something, she'd call, right?

Well, it turns out I am not the center of the universe (I'm as shocked as the rest of you) and she was tied up this afternoon and early evening showing a house. I did get that trademarked, realtor "Oh, I was just about to call you..." thing when she picked up, so at least I got a laugh out of it.

Turns out there was some sort of glitch in the financing of people who have been to our house FOUR TIMES now. You would think in the week or so that it takes you to come to the same house four times you would make sure your loan is in place before you give us fifteen minutes to get out of our house so you can "look at it one more time" before you put in your offer. Not that I'm bitter about being tossed out in the middle of a really bad bout of heartburn.

Our realtor got the impression that it is possibly a problem that can be worked out tomorrow when they have another chance to speak with their lender, but for heaven's sake, they didn't have much luck with it today, did they? Plus, she's scheduled a showing for tomorrow...there were none today, I suspect because we thought there was a solid offer coming in. I don't think the new showing is a good sign that she really believes this first offer will really come through.

I really wanted to squeeze a contract in before the possible local base closing could make all of our property values go down and cause some rather interesting real estate problems for us on the Gateway City end of things. But the debate is supposed to go on tomorrow and it seems to be spooking some buyers.

Insert heavy sigh here.

I keep telling myself it'll sell, but it sure would be nice to be able to actually relax in my house instead of having to be ready to leave on a moment's notice and have it in perfect showroom condition at all times. I miss being able to leave dishes in the sink for a bit if I had to.

One more thing, just a warning. If you are around me between now and when I pull up stakes and join the mister under the arch, don't drink out of my water glass. I'm pretty much nursing baking soda water 24/7 these days, since it seems to help keep the heartburn at bay. Not that it helped last night until it was just a bit too late, but I'll do anything to keep that flaming hot pike out of my chest. That includes drinking water that smells and tastes like Formula 409. Urk.

Where Were You on the Night Of...?

10 years ago today: August 22, 1995
I was still in Northern Virginia. I googled that date and it looks like it was a Tuesday, so I'm going to assume I was at work. Back then, I worked far too many hours at my job, mostly because I was more bored at home than I was there. I believe I was just starting to dig myself out of the financial hole I was in after my sister moved out of the apartment we shared. She did it without any forewarning while I was at work one day, leaving me with stacks of bills I thought had been paid. I think that was in July, so the timing on that should be just about right.

5 years ago today: August 22, 2000
I was probably just about nearing the most I'd ever weighed in my life, right around 210 pounds. This was apparently also a Tuesday according to the day of the week calculator I found on the all-mighty IntarWeb, so I'm going to again assume that I showed up for work. The highlight of the work day was probably walking over to the mall to have lunch in the food court with the SA guys. I'm going to guess that I was still eating fried food and a salad with two containers of bleu cheese dressing for lunch, since my weight was still on the upswing. If there was a new Buffy episode that night, it was probably the horrible Buffy vs. Dracula, so I'm just going to pretend the season hadn't started yet.

1 year ago today: August 22, 2004
This may actually have been the day of the State Championship Time Trial bicycle race. Suffice it to say, I had lost the weight by then. I ended up coming in third but getting the silver due to a registration technicality. I really wanted to win, but knew deep down I wouldn't. In the end, I was just glad to finish the thing in the 98 degree heat and do as well as I did.

yesterday: August 21, 2005
Woke up feeling not as sick (got a little cough/cold thing going since the plane flights home) as the day before. I found I could actually talk without my throat threatening to burst into flames! Spent the morning readying the house for possible buyers (again) and then hid out at CK and LWC's. They graciously allowed me to drool on their couch for a bit (I tend to nap a bit these days) and then there was football and Mario Karting and chinese food. A good time, although I fear they may be getting a bit weary of me for those eight hour stretches while I hide out from the potential buyers.

Came home. Watched the last episode of Six Feet Under ever, finding out how and when everyone on the show was destined to die. Watched Entourage with the mister, but left to retire to the bedroom when he turned on the kryptonite. Promptly got heartburn, the new joy of the second trimester. Nothing worked for hours until the mister couldn't stand to see me writhing anymore and went out at 1 a.m. in search of the three things I'd read about that are safe to take that might help: baking soda, milk, and Tums. Sadly, it seems the true remedy is a large spoonful of baking soda dissolved in a little water and drunk before you can think about how nasty it is. Killed the pain in less than 10 minutes, then staved it off again this morning at 6 a.m. when it threatened to come back.

tomorrow: August 23, 2005
Tomorrow I have to put my husband on a plane so he can start his new job. I don't see him again until September 9th. I will be spending time between here and my parents'. Other than the excuse to go see my parents, I am quite unhappy at the prospect of such a long separation.

5 snacks I enjoy
You mean now, or before I was pregnant? I'll go with "all time" stuff, after which you will see how I got to 210 pounds. 100 Grand bars, Juicy Pear jelly bellies, Swedish Fish, Mushrooms and Bleu Cheese dressing, anything but Corn Flakes out of the sugary cereal variety pack.

5 bands that I know most of their lyrics
Wish I could help you out there. Pretty much just Queen.

5 things I'd do with a million $$
Pay off a house so I could get rid of one bill a month, invest, put a GPS in my car, redo the kitchen of the paid off house with light oak cabinets and real marble countertops, put a computer in every room hooked up to a T1.

5 places I'd run away to
Honestly, I don't like to travel that much. There are a few places I wouldn't mind spending a week in. Disneyland/Disneyworld (doesn't matter which), London, Milan, the Smithsonian warehouse of things that don't fit in the museums, and Hogwarts.

5 bad habits I have
My temper, talking too much and not letting everyone else have a go, procrastination, too easily given over to frustration, and biting my cheek when I'm nervous.

5 things I like doing
Games, staying home in the quiet, watching television, reading, pondering.

5 things I wouldn't wear (Halloween costumes excepted)
Tube tops, fishnet stockings, stiletto heels, wool (allergic), a bikini.

5 TV shows I love (mostly defunct, sadly)
Veronica Mars, Entourage, The Tick, Sports Night, Max Headroom.

5 movies I love
I should just take my top 5 from the my top 50 list, but I'm going to switch it a bit to the current stuff, the ones I know will change as soon as my mood changes. Yes, one of these isn't out yet, but the anticipation of it is as good as the memory of any other movie I can think of.

Empire (but you're killing me, George Lucas), Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, The Two Towers, Love, Actually, and Woman of the Year.

5 famous people I'd like to meet
Lord, I suck at talking to famous people. I think I prefer to leave them famous and afar. Anyone I've ever met in person has become that little bit less interesting than they were before.

5 biggest joys at the moment
The mister, when the baby moves, when I don't have heartburn or nausea, naps, seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.

5 favorite toys
Laptop, TiVo, wireless router, digital camera, Google.

5 people to tag
The Mister (he's my husband, I can re-tag if I want to)
Brad
Karzender
Dr. Heimlich
Kindralas

And Yet, More Kvetching

All I seem to hear about we irresponsible Americans is that we're impulse buyers, carrying more debt than is reasonable, acting quickly and without adequate intellectual reflection.

Why, then, do we have people ringing our doorbell at 9 a.m. and asking questions about the house because our agent didn't answer her phone on the first ring, yet our house has been on the market for a week with no contracts yet?

I know a week doesn't sound like very long. It is an eon compared to how quickly things went in this real estate market in the recent past. I know the price isn't too high, as we have what those in the know like to call "comps", houses we can use as a comparison to set the price of this one. I do think it's a ridiculous price for a house of this size, but this is supposedly the price that the market can bear.

I'm starting to think we're getting reamed because of the possible closure of the largest training air base on the East Coast, just miles away from here.

For those of you following along at home, our agent is going to ask for the couple who are only qualified for 94% of the asking price to make their best offer. Hopefully they haven't found anything in the meantime...although, I'm not picky. Hopefully we just get a contract today or tomorrow.

Yes, I'm in a hurry, and yes, we don't close on the second house until September 14, but I'm not much for uncertainties. Impatient? Yes. Whiny? Probably. Unreasonable? Perhaps.

In other news, I caught some sort of scratchy throat/stuffy ear thing on the plane on the way home. Honestly, that recirculated air is a breeding ground for every creeping crud from people far and wide. I woke up feeling not as bad as I did last night, and I feared it would be the opposite. You know how it either gets better or worse on the second day, and you can tell from there how long you'll be bothered with (alcohol and menthol free, of course, for the baby) cough drops and kleenexes? So this was the better outcome there. It will still suck when I have to pull up roots and vacate the house so it can be shown to yet more people who will neglect to put in an offer for it.

Part of me wishes we could get away with asking to see people's pre-approval letters before I actually get out of bed and leave the house for a half hour. I mean, if your qualification doesn't even come close, aren't we all just wasting our time? Trust me, our house is not as interesting as a museum. If you are looking for a pleasant way to spend a half hour, there are many more interesting things to do than gawk at our linoleum.

Or am I just being cranky? I can never tell.

Update

Okay, they weren't as fucking nuts as I first thought. Remind me to tell you all about the time some people asked us to lose $400 a month renting our house back to them after they sold it to us until December mutherfucking 7th. For those of you without a calendar handy, that would be THREE AND A HALF MONTHS from now. Coincidentally, it would also be within a month of my due date! Handy!

They gave it up when we met them more in the middle on the price. Why do we keep buying houses from high-maintenance people building their next house new and wanting us to give them the world as well as a large pile of money for their house?

On the much brighter sides, 50% of the house logistics are done, we do have a nice, well-cared for house waiting for us after we close, and we have a lovely view from the backyard (above). You can even see the very sturdy, fun-looking play equipment in that picture that will be conveying for Pavel to play on.

Now all we have to do is sell the house back at our current home base so we don't actually have to go ahead with this stupid bridge loan to close on the second house. I need opinions.

We are making more money on our house than anyone should after only having it for three years. We have one couple interested in it who are only approved for a loan of 94% of our asking price. I should note this is in a market where nearly everything goes for asking price if you wait long enough (anywhere from 3 days to 2 months these days). Do we ask the couple to make their best offer just so we can pull the trigger, or do we keep showing the house and let them find another one, possibly to wait another couple of months for the "right" buyer with the right level of approval.

I'm inclined to just ask for the offer. The mister is coming around to my way of thinking. My father-in-law agreed with me right away. The only person who seems against it is our realtor, and it is not impossible that she is protecting her commission a bit, but it seems more likely that she is just thinking more money is likely around the corner and two months isn't that long to someone who who doesn't have to worry about logistics of bridge loans and moves and putting cats on airplanes and giving birth to babies before the end of this year. I personally think I have enough complications and stress, why not give up some money we never had in the first place, money so unreal to me that it literally feels as though it would come out of a monopoly box, to inject a little simplicity into this whole, "let's move 990 miles across the country and away from all our friends" procedure.

Okay, so I'm trolling for opinions. Ask for the offer? Or wait? I need some more views to bounce off my own.

A Message

To the people we are currently negotiating with for a house:

Are you fucking nuts?!?

I Hate Pandas

Okay, so I don't hate pandas.

I just envy them a little.

Here I am, in the hotel room. I've been up for awhile, because of the time difference and having gone to sleep a bit earlier than usual. I've got CNN on in the background with the sound down.

They keep showing this tiny little baby panda and, I suppose, the mommy panda.

Can we talk about size differential? That baby panda is TINY. Miniscule. That panda probably sneezed and the baby panda was born. I doubt the mother even noticed it, as she is so massive and the baby is practically lilliputian.

Then I look over in the bed next to me and realize what the size differential on our baby might be. (The first person to note in the comments that "at least I have child-bearing hips" is gonna get whacked, be forewarned.)

Why can't I be like Zeus and just allow a fully-formed Athena to spring from my head? Every time I see a baby now, I feel like I'm eyeing it up, trying to wrap my brain around the method that they use to come into the world.

I understood all this intellectually before, you see. That is kind of like intellectually understanding how to catch a fly ball, though. I can draw you trajectories and talk about the wind, but I can't force myself to stand under one and put my glove out because I'm convinced I'll misjudge it and it will hit me in the forehead.

Somehow, I think, come late December or early January, I'll find myself wishing I was being hit in the forehead with a fly ball instead.

The Unpost

I meant to post, before flying out of VA today, that I would be gone for a bit and I'd have more news of househunting in MO at the end of the week.

Reached the hotel in MO to find out there's wireless access in the rooms. r0x0r. We'll be keeping you all apprised of our progress, because I know how riveting it must be.

A few notes from my day:

Flying is overrated, but the time still passes faster than in the car.

If you're going to fly, wear shoes without any metal on them at all.

Bring your own damn sandwich. No one sells them at the airport anymore. All you can get is pizza and hamburgers. When you can get through the lines at all.

I'm not buying this "no one is flying" jazz. Both of my flights were chock-full, but oddly, not in my row. I had a middle seat empty next to me on both legs, even though most of the rows of three on both planes were full. Pretty good luck, really.

My nails are ridiculously long, as is my hair.

I have one more day of work left until there will be an indeterminate length of time in which I will not have a job. Odd, that.

I think I liked the vomiting part of the pregnancy more than the heartburn stage. Is there some agency I can go to in order to trade back?

Our baby thought the take-offs and landings were pretty cool. Lots of somersaults during those. Maybe there's a pilot in there.

Okay, so so sleepy now. Must go.

The World Loves an Open Encyclopedia

Did you ever wonder what, from the world around you, is actually listed in Wikipedia?

Did you, for example, ever wonder if slightly well-known companies might be listed?

If you're bored, why don't you try reading about the one you work for, or most recently worked for? Sometimes looking at the revision histories is interesting as well.

Just a suggestion. You know I'm lookin' out for you in your moments of boredom.

Spore

I need to play this game now, not in Q4 2006.

I'll admit, though I can't explain why making virtual people shower, eat, and go to work was so entralling, I did love playing The Sims for awhile there. Spore is also from Wil Wright, and is like The Sims (inside joke alert) on steroids (end alert). You start as a single-celled organism, evolve several times (assuming you survive) in ways you have complete artistic and creative control over, build a society of guys that look just like your first guy, and eventually end up as a spacefaring race, befriending or conquering worlds in other space systems.

Also, all shapes, textures, and animations in the game are dynamic, so you aren't limited to customizations pre-determined by the designers. The rendering and animation engines react on the fly if you add a fifth leg or a horned tail to your creature during an evolution. The possibilities are almost endless within the evolution theme of the game. Also, different stages of the game play differently, each one an homage to some of the most brilliant games to come before it. (Play styles in the beta version reference games as disperate as Pac-Man, Populous, and Civilization, plus some new twists.)

If I could have this game right now I would leave work for twenty minutes and go over to the mall and buy it. I have to have this thing. If anyone hears about how to get into the beta, call me immediately.

No, really.

Am I Gender Appropriate Or Not?

Thanks to Max Barry, I was today directed to the Gender Genie, where you can find out if a bot thinks you are a girl or a boy, based on the drivel you've already written.

Although why "the" is a masculine word, I couldn't tell you.

Interestingly enough, out of three blog posts of mine that I pasted in there, the genie only got me with the correct gender once. I guess I'm one of the guys after all.

Although the baby may have other impressions...

What?

Here's why, among other things, that little voice in your head telling you to do "the bad things" is a man and not a woman.

Men deciphered female voices using the auditory part of the brain that processes music, while male voices engaged a simpler mechanism, it said.

The Mail quoted researcher Michael Hunter as saying, "The female voice is actually more complex than the male voice, due to differences in the size and shape of the vocal cords and larynx between men and women, and also due to women having greater natural 'melody' in their voices.

So, the next time all you guys have to say, "What?" or "Huh?" to a woman and you make her repeat herself, do so knowing it is because her voice is so wonderfully musical and complex that your brain simply needs more time to process it.

What's weird is that the article didn't say anything about how women process other women's voices. Do we women have the same problem, or is it just the way you boys are wired? I smell grant money...

Got several hours to kill?

Play Peekaboom, the game that teaches computers how to see.

It's actually an AI computer teaching tool. From their site:

"Gaming with a purpose." Peekaboom is a special kind of game, one that is not only enjoyable but also serves a higher purpose — teaching computers to see. By playing the game, you locate objects in images, which helps computers learn how to do so by themselves!

Addicting.

Crickets!

I meant to cover this ground yesterday, but I was far too busy being mad.

About a month ago, I pulled back my shower curtain to turn the water on, and I saw a cricket just hanging out in my shower.

Now, there are some bugs I can kill, and some bugs I can't. Included in the "can't" column are any bugs who can jump up at my face as we battle each other. Crickets are firmly in the "can't" category.

So I woke up the husband, and sheepishly asked him to take care of the situation for me. He rather sleepily got up and rid us of the scourge, then went back to bed. We agreed later that it must have been an incredible fluke. How could a cricket come in from outside (no outside doors or windows on this room) through the pipes to the bathroom shower? I even considered the shudderingly horrible possibility that the cricket had been on me and jumped off into the shower when I leaned over to start the water.

We put cricketgate behind us, and moved on.

Yesterday morning, I pulled back the shower curtain to turn on the water, and there was another bloody cricket. I closed the curtain, shuffled off to the bedroom, woke up my husband and informed him of our second cricketty visitor in as many months. He cleared my way for a cricket-free shower with minimal grousing, which is all I can really ask.

Now, I am forced to wonder...how are these things getting in where they are getting in? Are they really climbing through my pipes just so they can hang out for a few hours, tell me good morning, and then perish under my husband's shoe? Is this the same cricket logic that tells them to sit right next to the house where the master bedroom is and make as much noise as possible during the summer months?

Anyone have any ideas? I think this is what comes for buying a house out in the semi-sticks.

Two Haiku For a Co-Worker

youth, sadly, is gone
oh, how sad a thing that is
uniquely morose

addict to smugness
selfishly thinking you're right
so sorry, you're not

Sorry, those suck. I'm not good at haiku under "first letter of first line already determined" pressure.

On the list of things I'm sad to leave behind, you are not there.

I can do this without getting dooced mainly because I'm leaving anyway, and everyone else hates you too. Do everyone else a favor and retire.

Transformations

I've always been fascinated with butterflies. I'm terrified of insects, but I have no trouble letting a butterfly walk all over me. I spent a bit of time in a butterfly room at a museum with my mother-in-law once, and I absolutely loved it. Afterward, for a couple of months, I had occasional dreams that I went back there.

For someone so interested in a creature that can transform itself so radically, I certainly have spent a lot of time fighting changes. Part of me even had trouble with the transition after losing that 85 pounds a few years ago. I kept this image in my head of me at my old size and I was constantly shocked at my image in mirrors or windows as I passed by them. In a weird way, losing the weight wasn't as hard as getting used to it being gone.

I knew all along that the period of April through December this year would be an interesting, difficult time. I wasn't expecting, however, that merely being pregnant would change things so much so quickly. I honestly thought I might be a little tired and a little hormonal, but that most of the fundamental psychological changes would be reserved for after the baby is actually here.

Boy, was I a dope.

But back to the present. I spent quite some time in a car with my boss today, as we had a three hour round trip to make out of the office today. We talked about lots of things. Even though I've only known her since May, we talk very easily and on many different subjects, given the opportunity. At some point in that three hours, we talked about the different ways you can raise kids and what outcomes may and may not follow. I think we started by talking about the pros and cons of home schooling, but that led to other generic parenting principles.

The point that immediately crystallized for me was that I said something that I utterly believe (intellectually) and then realized that part of me isn't sure I will be able to follow through. I said, in a roundabout, circumloculatory (see In a Nutshell, upper right) way, something that was just stated very succinctly on Brat Camp, which I have on in the background here. (You see, when you get pregnant for the first time and a show comes on that deals with kids who aren't happy or motivated, how they got they way, and how to begin to fix it, it sounds more interesting than just a regular old crappy reality show, which is probably what it is to most people...)

On the show, one of the counselors told one set of parents that they had to let their daughter struggle. That this was the main cause of that child's issues; the parents always step in when she begins to struggle and she's never learned how to deal with problems on her own.

I said something very close to that myself, earlier today. I probably nodded my head with false sageness as I said it, and my boss agreed with me.

In practical terms, though, the idea that I will someday have to watch my own child struggle and do nothing about it is extremely difficult to wrap my mind around. I can't watch anyone struggle, really. If an actual adult around me is, say, trying to get a bag of chips open and they aren't succeeding, I usually reach to take it away from them and try to open it for them before I think about what I'm doing. I just don't know where this zen ability to do nothing, at least for a period of time, is going to come from.

For heaven's sake, I started feeling quickening ("Fetal movement felt by the mother that may resemble the feeling of gas bubbles, or feel like a light tapping or butterfly movement coming from within.") And before it turns from quickening into kicking, it's indistinguishable from the outside. I'm the only one who can feel it.

When it started, I checked my book and practically every relevant word ever written on the web about it. I knew it was normal—a relief, actually, as it really has to happen at some point if things are okay—but I had to make sure it was the "right sort" of quickening. It feels like the baby is restless, which seems for a moment like the baby is in distress somehow. However, the web has assured me isn't the case. I have this reflex response to put my hand there and reassure (hard to do this without pronouns since CK just reminded us that 'their' is incorrect) him/her, but someday, when I feel the same reflex as this poor child struggles with something alone (which will be both soon and not-so-soon) the right thing to do will be...nothing.

New Link

Newsflash: I have added a link to my list over there. ->

(collective gasp)

It's for Overheard in the Office. An aperatif or two:

Office guy #1: Dude, you're making me nervous with that letter opener.
Office guy #2: Why's that?
Office guy #1: Because you look like you played too much Dungeons & Dragons back in the day.

Speakerphone: So, we're filling out nametags for next week's meeting. What's Randy's title?
Receptionist: Well, he's The Boss.
Speakerphone: Okay, but what's his title?
Receptionist: "The Boss". He's The Boss.
Speakerphone: All right, he's your boss, but what's his title?
Receptionist: He's "The Boss"!
Speakerphone: Oh, well then...um, okay that's great. Thanks for your help.

Snicker.

More Found Art

Because I've never met a blog idea I didn't want to steal, here's my free verse comprised entirely of subject lines from my Bulk Mail folder:

take a peek
your policy could be
yours free

shed inches
let our experts help
save hundreds

discounts on popular
unwanted fat
enjoy

If you think this is silly, this post saved you all from a "How to Vomit At Work" post. So count yourselves lucky. (Then again, considering where some of you used to work, you may already know all about vomiting at work. It's hard to be a teacher without students who need you.)

Laughing At Myself

After watching Six Feet Under last night (no spoilers here) I decided to see what some other people thought of the episode. I figured HBO would have a message board of some kind, so I went there.

As it turns out, there is a pretty lively message board there. Many of the people startled me with what they wrote...how could you watch SFU for this long if you are still "sickened" watching David and Keith? I mean, why not toddle off and be closed minded watching something more mainstream? (But that's neither here nor there...)

Two of the posters, over several pages on the board, began to openly flirt with each other. Where I stopped reading out of boredom, they were beginning to sound quite serious. I caught myself rolling my eyes at them...

...and then I remembered where I met my husband. Those who live in glass houses, you know.