We'll exhale. We'll high five. We will know at last how good it feels to be alive!

Join Us.

At first I was terribly disappointed and distressed but like most things, the new They Might Be Giants CD has grown on me like a strange fungus or extra appendage. The reason they have managed to remain my favorite band since 1990 is that they are who they are. You know it's a They Might Be Giants song upon first listen. and you have no choice but to respect the quirk. They don't try to be who they're not. They're just naturally awesome. So if you've picked up this album and are on the fence about it, give it time. Let your extra limbs develop!

My tickets have been secured for their Cleveland show. You might think, "But that's only 4 weeks after your supposed to give birth! It's irresponsible for you to be going to see a band!" I was kind of thinking the same thing...or at least I was slightly worried I'd be given the shit stick. So I didn't even bring up going. It was my fantastic hubby's idea. He said, "Who is going to the show with you? Your sister?" I questioned him about not minding if I went and he said he assumed I'd be going since they're my favorites and he'd happily spend the evening with Spencer. It didn't take any more arm twisting.

So the set list better blow MINDS since I'm leaving my 4 week old buddy!!

Speaking of blowing minds...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PHEE-BIZZLE!!!

This is YOUR day! And I hope that it's awesome from the minute you wake up until the minute you fall into bed. And when you DO fall into bed, I hope it's either nakedly with your husband OR in a drunken stupor from too much fun. It's been many moons since I've seen a drunk Phoebe. Or a naked one for that matter. I can't wait to celebrate your 36 years at the Renaissance Faire on Sunday (I told Spencer he MUST stay in his cushy waterbed until AFTER said Faire). I haven't spent nearly enough time with you this year which is a bummer but I have boatloads of good memories to tide me over between hangouts. So HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS, MISERY GUTS!!!! xoxoxoxoxoxo

Anything else I need to blather on about on this fine morning?

Um, my contractions are all over the map (an hour and half, 5 minutes, 5 minutes, 41 minutes, 4 hours). And I don't really care that Amy Whinehouse is dead, even is that sounds cold. I didn't personally know her and if you mess with meth, what do you expect? Oh, and congratulations to Little Erin and Wolfboy Slim on their news. RAD!

I guess that's all I've got.

She's got plenty of rhythm. Got plenty of jive.

You know, you can call me frosty white or pasty or Casper or whatever, but at least my skin is a natural color. I'm sorry but chicks do NOT look good when they're orange. I don't get that look at all. Did you wake up one morning and think, "I've never seen anything more attractive than a Dorito, and that is what I strive to look like."  A healthy glow I get, as well as people who tan naturally. But those who pay to be the color of Ernie from Sesame Street? Confusing.

I may hate fake skin but I still love fake jugs. Does that make me a hypocrite?

And it's not really fake jugs that I love so much as it is LARGE jugs. I like when women look like WOMEN and not young boys. What is appealing about that? Busts and hips and thighs and curves...delicious. Plain and simple.

And now here's something we hope you'll REALLY like!

Recently, I have really embraced what is good and important in my life and have acknowledged that any ridiculousness (of the effed up variety) and drama is dead-n-buried. My life doesn't need to be a circus...though I still wouldn't mind joining THE circus. But I digress. I know how lucky I am. I'm surrounded by real, amazingly hilarious, bizarre, and authentic individuals. I'm jealous of them, in a GOOD WAY. I want to learn from them. I want to emulate them. I want them to know how damn cool I think they are and how they make my life full. Some people don't have such luck. Some people are surrounded by phonies and are phonies themselves, though they'd never admit it. I've been able to trim any of that fat over the years. I feel lighter. And more awesome.

I've said it before and I'll say it until the day I die...life is good.

Don't think I'm being a philosophical softie and/or nut job. You know I despise those poetic types. I'm just telling it like it is. I'm laughing at the clowns I've had to encounter rather than letting them disgust me. They aren't worth my time. They aren't worth your time either. I'm wiping the slate clean and giving some people a second chance. And if they really ARE who they've proven to be thus far...they can kick rocks.

 But don't let this new found lightness fool you...I'm still going to rant! I just ranted about orange women! But I have to do that so my sarcastic and cynical side stays alive and well. I'm nothing if not adorably snarky and scrappy!

I whisper sweet things. You tell all your friends. They'll come running to me.

James Taylor, you really effed things up when you covered "Handyman". I've recently re-fallen head-over-heels for the original and then my mom pointed out that you covered it (probably in the hit-or-miss 1970s) and it ALL came rushing into my brain at warp speed. Your horrific cover of an awesome jam. I've never liked you, James Taylor, but now I downright despise you and your lack of range. You probably made Jimmy Jones roll over in his grave...if he's dead...not fully informed on that one.

I need to get a turntable into my life. My records are just sitting in the art room feeling forgotten, unloved and under appreciated, much like many annoying American women. I also need a jukebox, and I think I need it more than a Ms. Pac-Man machine but that's still up for debate. I've got a lot of 45s that would make for one HELL of a 50s/60s dance party jukebox. I need to start squirreling away nuts to make this dream come true. I also have to ignore the nagging voice saying "Jukebox or your son's Ivy League college education??" 

I bet it's one of those forgotten, unloved and under appreciated American women.

I've been with you such a long time. You're my sunshine.

A 3-day work week followed by a 3-day work week. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Why did I choose to wear shoes that are furry-lined on the day when it's going to be a gazillion degrees? It's not even 7:00am and my poor dogs are roasting. Do people still refer to their feet as "dogs"? That needs to make a come back.

As I've been blathering about for some time now, Becky came to visit this weekend and magically filled all the empty spots in my soul as only she can do. She looks happier, healthier, and just all-around more Becky-ish than ever. Her positivity rubs off on me and she loves me for my bitter snarkiness. We're definitely an Odd Couple but it works, and has worked for over 10 years now.

She arrived early and we shot the breeze. It happens like this every time we get together. We greet each other and get down to gossip. She wants to know what's going on with everyone...my friends, my family, my fetus. Post-gab session, we went to Chocolate Bar and stuffed ourselves silly. She had a Swedish Fish martini (I urged her to have a cocktail despite it being 11:30am)...I had not one but TWO desserts because there is no better time than now to get piggy. I felt like one of those Ladies Who Lunch, but cooler and in better company.

When Todd came home from work, we took the kids to the Brunswick Home Days which was just as trashy as any other city carnival, but still a good time. I love anything that glows and who doesn't love a carnie?? If only we could've seen Mr. Speed, the KISS cover band. The adults talked while the kids rode rickety rides run by toothless weirdies. No one won any miniature basketballs or saw-dust filled toys, but Todd did enjoy an Elephant Ear or Funnel Cake. Something covered in powered deliciousness.

Post-carnival, we headed to Winking Lizard for some munchies and then back to Castle Grayskull for some chill time...which would've been pool time if Ohio wasn't so bizarre. With water under 50 degrees and a heater on the fritz, we had to stay on dry land. And eventually, this preggo-mama had to put herself to bed in preparation for Spencer's baby shower in the morning. You can read about that awesome event and see some snapshots HERE!!! Or you can just forget about it. Your call.

After the shower, Becky hit the road but luckily, I was too busy, buried in a pile of all things baby, to be too sad right away. But once she texted a safe (and speedy) arrival home, I was missing her. Why can't she live a mile down the road like she used to? Everyone grows up and moves on, I suppose. I probably appreciate her more now that seeing her is a special event. Hopefully I'll see her one more time before I'm officially someones parent...but another visit in 51 days seems unlikely. Le sigh...

So there you have it. The portion of my weekend that WASN'T babyfied.

Either way, it's OK. You wake up with yourself.

My new work schedule goes into affect today, and by NEW, I mean "until maternity leave". I'd like to say that means I'm going to have more free hours in my day but it actually means I'll be spending more time on the couch or in the bed with Dr. Nightmare. Maybe I'll finally watch Weeds and Mad Men. Anything else you can recommed? Nothing that'll involve too much brain activity.

But back to my schedule (imagine I said that like a Brit). I appreciate my work being so accomodating and understanding. I'm only shortening my schedule by 6 hours a week but I still hate being a nuisance. Unless I'm purposefully being a nuisance. Which happens often.

And now for the best things I've heard so far this week:

"I kept wishing you were there so I could see a pregnant woman knock a lesbian to the ground. That would've been great".

"Deliciousness knows no time frame".

I got to spend some quality time with my Onionhead yesterday which was much needed. I miss my friends and will probably burst into flames when I see them on Sunday. It was good to gab-n-gossip with someone that really knows me. I always LOVE when someone has a juicy story that makes my jaw drop and leaves me in shock. I like to be on the outside of drama looking in!

My nephews don't know what Skor bars are. Poor, neglected, delicious candy.

Becky is coming to visit this weekend for the baby shower and I get an entire Saturday with her! I already feel whole just knowing she's on her way. She told me not to clean and not to fuss over her, that she's perfectly happy with pizza, chick flicks, and some pool time. Some of my happiest days were Sundays in college when we would get Chinese food and watch movies alllllll day. I'm so looking forward to just being around her that I can't even put it into words. So ignore all those words above.

And with that...I bid you a fond farewell on this rainy day.

I won't cry for you. I won't crucify the things you do.

I am one irritable little zombie this morning. I'm mere milliseconds away from hunting down some sort of tool and removing my spine and all the muscles of my back, leaving me a puddle of muck on the floor. Attractive, no. Necessary, totally.

I know the back pain and tailbone pressure all goes around with hauling precious cargo. But exhaustion can make the simplest things seem a gazillion times more horrific. So that's where I am right now. Beat, uncomfortable and taking it out on the world. If you have to physically interact with me today, I would maintain distance. After all, I've read "Real Ultimate Power".

On the plus side, and this IS a plus as far as I'm concerned, Lady Gaga's new album has grown on me like a delicious and nutritious algae. My initial distaste for it was cause for concern but now I can't stop jamming it. Whew. What a load off my mind. Sure, there may be too many song centered around religious themes for my taste, but what's good is REALLY good.  "Bloody Mary" may be stuck in my head all day and I'm pretty OK with that. Way to go, Gaga.

Way to go.

COUNTDOWNS:
12 days until the baby shower.
16 days until my next doctor's appointment.
65 days until Spencer's due date.

We'll kill the fatted calf tonight so stick around.

Marcus Samuelson sort of freaks me out. Sorry Ethiopia.

Also, I don't care what you do to goat. I'm not eating it.

A full weekend is coming to a close and I'm blogging from bed because this body needs a rest. The fan is going, my legs are propped on a pillow, and Top Chef is on. Simple. Perfection. And the weekend was the same, despite some unexplained anxiety here and there. It's probably not "unexplained", what with all these home renovation projects going on at once and an active boy growing in my guts. I don't want to bring a baby into chaos. I, myself, don't want to be surrounded by chaos. But that's not really the point since the quick sinking feelings in no way outweighed the good times that were had.

I've said before, and with great enthusiasm, that I'm pretty good when it comes to birthdays and my stepson is turning 10 this week. There's a pretty mind-blowingly cool pool party and sleepover planned for next month (June is jam packed and July will give us a toasty, swimming-worthy day) but we still needed a mini-celebration. I think I did a damn fine job right down to the wrapping paper. It takes weeks to plan, an eternity to wrap, and mere seconds for the paper to fly and it all to be over. But it was well worth it. He was one happy (almost) 10 year old. And the fun just continued as we rocked the chopsticks and he was treated like a king. I think his Magic 8-Ball was right when he asked it if today would be a rad birthday...just wait for your party, kid!!! I may not do everything right, but I know how to throw a party!

We had another celebration this weekend as we hit our 2nd wedding of the season. We got snazzed up and hit both the ceremony and reception...which was in question since my back and tailbone write my agendas these days. Weddings always make you think about your marriage. We know each other better than anyone else can, even when we watch to karate chop each others heads in half. It's cool to have that. It's cool to have some one make sure you have something to drink and are comfortable. It's cool to have someone to ask you to dance. And it's super cool to have someone laugh and tell you they love you because you say you have to poop. Weddings can be good reminders of the good thing you got if you're lucky enough to have it. Maybe I'll karate chop my husband just a little less this week...and I'll be sure to put the same effort into Father's Day as I do to birthdays.

So another work week begins in the morning, leading up to probably one of the busiest weekends of the summer...oh sweet anxiety! There's a studio opening and a karaoke bash (don't expect to hear me singing without liquid courage), more home improvements packed into a short spam of time and another awesome birthday celebration, and then Father's Day. Besides honoring the father of my monster, I've got to do right by my own pops. He's done far too much for us this year, even with a wrecked paw and a full plate. Looking at my dance card, I wonder if I'll be able to find time to sleep and breathe!!!

I guess it's better than being bored.

Am I right???

A meditation engine runs on gasoline, caffeine, and time.

2 more followers gets me that much closer to my goal of building a robot!

And sometimes I wish I drank coffee. But not enough to do anything about it.

You know what feels incredibly awesome and empowering? Saying what you want to say without thinking or pausing or censoring yourself. Just vomiting your mind, as my girl Gaga would say, all over people at the exact moment the thoughts pop into your head. ZING! You may think this is a bad idea and maybe it is. But lots of bad ideas probably feel incredible. Anyway, I think I've pussyfooted around saying what I want to say for far too long and that's not my style. I'd rather deal with the fallout than the stress of keeping it all bottled up.

And before you try to start blaming my brashness on hormones, let me stop you in your tracks. During my entire preggoness (30 weeks today and you can read about that later here), my emotions have been in check. Except during one beer commercial where a soldier was returning home to a big party in a barn. That made my eyes leaky. Anyway, I've just been thinking a lot which lead me to realize that I sure have buttoned my lip over the last few years and that's not my style. I'm not one to get walked on, never have been.

But enough of that brand of blather!

Ready for a polar opposite?? I am DETERMINED to go to a Renaissance fair this year. In fact, the Ohio Renaissance Festival kicks off a month after Spencer is scheduled to vacate my uterus. Is it bad form to take an infant to a Renaissance fest? Don't babies like turkey legs, jousting, and big steins full of mead or ale? Every year I mean to go and I miss out. Enough of this putting things off! That's how things DON'T get done and I don't want to be on my deathbed whining about how I didn't go to a Renaissance fair. Does that sound trivial? Shut up. You can come, too.

I need some pool time.

And I am STILL not satisfied with this flipping layout! GRRRR!

Like a road, you're somewhere to go.

There is a piece of chocolate coconut cream cheesecake waiting for me in the fridge. But do I really want to start my day with another sugar high? In approximately 75, I'm going to give birth to a tornado. Or a marshmallow.

Yesterday was unexpectedly full and gave me a little bit of a jump start. Recently, I've been feeling a little...well, a little everything, emotionally and physically. Lost, bored, overwhelmed, uncomfortable. But yesterday sort of worked out the kinks a bit.

After my hubby hooked me up with an Iphone (reason #254 that he's pretty cool - he accepts my technology obsessions), I had a 1 hour glucose test at the hospital which was fascinating (but more about that at the baby blog). Once I shook the sugar, I spent the cheddar...had to score a more comfy bikini so I can take advantage of having a pool, bump and all.

John Jackson and I had a late lunch/early dinner/shit talking session and then I unexpectedly ending up at my niece's baseball game...and left there with a breast pump (say WHAAAT?). I'm not trying to give you the play by play of the day, honestly, but it was the baby, friends, family, weather, accomplishment of tasks, etc. that leveled me out.

Don't get me wrong, I like a lazy day more that most people. But the further along in my preggoness I get, the more useless I feel I'll become. I need to fill my days with productive hours while I can. Then when I can't, you'll find me floating the pool.

Life es bueno!

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So hot! Love I couldn't quite resist.

Did we skip over Spring? Hot dog!

Today has been one of those days-off that I love. Soul satisfying, or somthing crunchy like that. It wasn't jam-packed with wasted hours. It was a full day that included buying a rad patio set, opening our swimming pool, prepping our outdoor space for summer fun, grilling an amazing feast (I finally successfully tackled ribs!!!), and warpping it all up with ice-cream sundaes!

Does it sound lame? Get off your high horse because it was fantastic. We made good use of every hour of this Memorial Day, even if I had to take frequent breaks and put an ice pack on my forehead for awhile. The whole weekend recharged my batteries in fact, even if we were running-on-go from Saturday on. I feel accomplished and far less worried that our Castle Grayskull projects won't be finished by the time Spencer makes his debut. I feel good.

But I also feel horrifically guilty, which may seem like a contrasting emotion. My dad had an accident while selflessly helping make improvements on the Ol' Kentucky Corral to help it sell. 24 stitches, tendon surgery, and a sad daughter later, all I can think is that if we had been doing the chore (I'll be 7 months preggo on Thursday and Todd was at work), this never would've happened. It hurts my heart-n-brain. Hopefully he'll repair quickly and hopefully he knows how much we appreciate all his help and sacrifice. Still, I feel sick when I think about it *frown*

But overall, everything is gravy. Delicious gravy.

Happy Memorial Day!

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Hear my voice in your head and think of me kindly.

Good morning...temporarily...from the bed!

This little blog just got its 30th official follower. As soon as I her 50 followers, I'm going to do something dramatic to celebrate. Like build a rocket to the moon or a loyal robot companion. Both seem a little technical with high levels of difficulty, but it is good to have goals. Welcome 30th follower.

I think I'm going to stop using contractions like Peggy Hill.

I haven't dedicated enough time to it to know for sure, but I'm worried about Lady Gaga's new album. I've been told it'll grow on me and I hope it's true. Something about it is so 80s/90s dance and not nearly as powerful as The Fame (Monster)...besides "Judas". Oh, and it's time to drop the religious themes. But I'm not giving up hope yet. Especially after she won back top spot in my heart doing the Liquorville sketch on SNL. A-MAZ-ING.

I already forgot about the contractions. Fail.

I really want to hear the Crass version of "Do They Owe Us a Living?" right now. Haven't thought about that song in years. Probably won't do anything about it.

Why was clapping erasers in grade school so coveted?

Why did Progresso change their Minnestrone soup receipe like 15 years ago, knocking my world out of balance?

Why am I awake this early on a Saturday?

Good night, jerkfaces. xoxoxo

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Don't show up so on time. And don't act like you're so kind.

Greg Oblivian wears Cosby sweaters. Take note.

If you need some jams to get your morning jump-started, might I recommend "Don't Ask Me" and "So Damn Hot", both by OKGO? I'm already partially revved because my 4-day weekend starts at 3:15p today but those songs slapped a smile on my mug.

Actually, a lot of songs made me smile in a nostalgic way during my morning commute. I've been doing that 30 Day Song Challenge on Facebook (ah, social networking, how I love thee) and it's made me evaluate every jam on my Ipod more critically. Today, day 7, had me picking a song that reminds me of a certain event. A majority of the tunes I lurve have some story associated with them!

"Shoehorn With Teeth" reminds me of seeing TMBG in Columbus and one lucky crowd member...an adorably jazzed 13 year old boy...getting to play the glockenspiel and then KEEP the autographed glockenspiel. "Natural One" reminds me of driving around in my high school bestie's car (R.I.P. Rusty) listening to the KIDS soundtrack during the summer. "Hightime" reminds me of being dressed like a dead skunk on the best Halloween I've ever had. "Ballroom Blitz" reminds me of singing karaoke at a dive bar on my nephew's 21st birthday. "Bacon Grease" STILL makes me ponder EVERY TIME I hear it if it's a good or bad thing that he wants to "cook that woman up in bacon grease". The stories never end.

Anyway, that's been my morning. Memories and music. It's kicking off what will no doubt be a longer than average (despite it's 24 hour length) day since I'll be counting down to Spencer's 28 week doctor's appointment and the start of my weekend. My back hurts, I didn't sleep well, and my radar is up that something fishy is going on...which makes me think of "(I Know) There's Something Going On" by Frieda (former member of ABBA), the first song I heard this morning.

Why do Australians love ABBA? What is the connection there?

Teenage love song, ain't such a thing.

At this time in 2005, I abandoned my blog at pitas.com (still hilarious and available for posterity's sake) and made my home here at The Cleveland "A". 6 long and jam-packed years I've been blathering and droning on and on about whoever and whatever I want...though I was a little more verbal and nasty back in the day. A lot has chanced in what is really such a short amount of time (unless, as I've said, you were in jail...6 years in jail would be a long time).

This time in 2005 also saw the birth of Mamacita's brain child, The Pussyfoot Girls, another main staple in the diet of my life.  I miss knowing that every week, I'd see my favorite gals walking through the doors of the Ol' Kentucky Corral (might as well mark 2005 down as when I bought that joint, though it was summer when I moved in). I miss listening to music and being ridiculous. It's not even the shows that I miss...it's the practices. Some of the best and most absurd times of my entire life.

And wow, Spring 2005 saw a lot of action in my little life because it's ALSO when my divorce was all said-n-done. It doesn't even really seem like that marriage actually happened. Eh, it was really just "playing house" when it comes down to it. Is it weird that I can barely remember what something should be significant was actually like? Eh, it is what it is.

But enough about my blog's 6th birthday...

I'm starting my week off with a cupcake. I predict good things.

I want to make up for lost time tonight and I just can't wait.

Man, have I been a bad blogger. But maybe you should thank me for not boring you to tears and/or death since my week has basically consisted of sleeping (poorly, might I add) my life away with a super sore back. Yesterday I forced myself to build the changing table, clean the kitchen and do some laundry. My back and I sure are paying for it this morning. But that's life. Or the life of a 6 1/2 month pregnancy person, I suppose.

It's going to be 75 and partly cloudy which is as close to Heaven as I'm going to get to today. Doesn't seem like the Rapture happened, as predicted by nutbags. I love that Castle Grayskull is filled with widows and sliding doors because I'll need some sunshine and fresh air (let's throw some bad TV in there, too) while I keep trucking on with my nesting. What room of my house will be destroyed and repaired today?

Speaking of home destruction, let me just say HOORAY FOR INSURANCE! Our home owners insurance company (how adult does that sounds?) actually sent an adjuster out and we were cut a check on the spot for all the basement-flooding nonsense. I wasn't expecting any money so I'm more than happy with what we got. There will be some new drywall and paint, a new bathroom floor, new doors if we so choose, and a plumber to check out some shtuff. It's going to be some work, I've been told, but hopefully it's done before Spencer shows up. I can't happily enjoy my son living in a shit shack.

Sorry I couldn't dazzle you with more wit. I want to enjoy the early-morning weather.

I've learned love is like a brick...you can build a house or sink a dead body.

HAPPY FRIDAY THE 13th!! Why has today been awesome??

-I woke up early even though I slept like junk...after our basement flooded from what my parents say was the worst rain they've ever seen in Brunswick.There wasn't much I could do since I can't lift or bend but the dudes handled it (APPRECIATED). And I still woke up sun-shiny early to get my day on.

-For the first time in my life, EVERY dress I tried on for the wedding tomorrow not only FIT but looked GREAT. I walked out with 4 non-maternity dresses, that can be worn post-Spencer! And walking out of the dress department, there they were! The perfect shoes...and they match all 4 dresses! Need more icing on the cake? I found great jewelry, too. This NEVER happens to me. Shopping usually makes me cry. Being pregnant has made me totally lurve my body right now, I guess. My mom said Spencer is good luck. HELL YEAH! But I had a front runner right off the bat.

-Spent some time at PJ's Day Spay getting my hair done did! Yep, you read that right. I actually got more than one haircut in a year. It's fresh and clean, the color is touched-up, brighter-n-fresher, and it's one more thing to help me feel wedding-ready! Ignore the fact that I'm sans make-up. It was early.

-I got home and did a little text fashion show for my manimal once I narrowed it down to 2 dresses: the black, strapless, Hawaiian and the blue, spaghetti strapped, garden party. STILL pumped with my purchases! Whichever one I don't wear tomorrow, I'll wear to the wedding we have next month. Lurve is the air. And Todd loved me in the dresses, saying something like "YUM!". Boy sure does love a summer dress and thought it would be cute if I showcases the bump a bit. Just call me pregnant in heels...or wedges. I don't want to be like "I look HAWT" but it's nice to feel good about your appearance when you're growing a monster inside of you!

Black Hawaiian

Blue Garden Party

-I made some delicious pasta for lunch with the windows wide open, enjoying the bad-ass weather. Red pepper flakes, garlic, broccoli, peas, tomatoes, and Bocconcini. It was yum, yum, yum. A good lunch and some bad TV, followed by painting my fingernails and toes (by the way, that's no longer an option...it's Todd's job now) just kept me on that good mood wave. It's the little things that matter.

-Horror of 59 is playing a free show with Cult of the Psychic Fetus tonight! I'm going to get to spend some time with my awesome pals, and my twin, COTPF's own Alex Murder! Pre-show, John Jackson (yeah, he's totally my partner-in-crime now) are going to stuff out faces solid with some Italian goodness. And as an awesome treat, my husband will be meeting us at the show, a pleasant surprise. I think the good day will end with a good night.

So yeah...VIVA FRIDAY THE 13th!! Hope it's as good for you!

I hear you say the truth must take a beating.

Ladies and Gentlemen, let's get our rant on, shall we?

1. I am too old for public drunks. Don't get me wrong, I like partaking in shenanigans from time to time, but I'm over being a drunken disaster. At this point in my life, if I was the woman a few rows in front of us at Lady Gaga who was passed out in her $88 seat BEFORE  Gaga even went on, I wouldn't consider it my greatest achievement. Apply that to the woman next to us who smelled like last night's party, and the 4 sorority girls behind us who spilled wine on the poor gay next to me, lost a cell phone, clocked me in my melon, and spoke at volumes that rival me when I'm on my celly. Get a grip, people. There has to be more substance to you than the size of your throbbing liver, though I doubt it.

2. And speaking of Gaga, who I love and adore...there is no excuse for going on stage 90 minutes late when it's a week night, I don't care who you are or where you're from. And if you go on 90 minutes late, at least acknowledge it. Take responsibility for your actions. And wipe that sourpuss off your face. You deserved the boos you got.

3. When is Mariah Carey going to announce the names of her twins?? I am obsessed with names, especially with middles names, and I neeeeed to know! What's the point on holding out? SPILL IT, CAREY!

4. I watched the royal wedding and while Morrissey may have had a problem with it, I enjoyed it. It was like watching Cinderella or something. Almost doesn't seem like real life. Not quite sure why so many people had to bash it. Jealousy? Boredom? I don't know. I don't care. I enjoyed the flash and glitter.

5. I despise the animation in Adult Swim's new cartoon, Super Jail. I will not be watching it, no matter how hilarious it might be.

6. I painted Spencer's nursery yesterday while listening to AFI. I even edged, which I never do. When it was finished, I felt very accomplished. I'm so glad that I'm in a position right now to give him such a rad room (and his OWN room at that). Todd is paying for the crib tonight and then we're on the hunt for vintage Sci-Fi posters and toy robots!

7. OK, so Osama Bin-Laden is dead. How long will militants vs. pacifists be spewing over the subject on Facebook? I want both sides to stop shoving stuff in my eyeballs. Can't we get back to what's REALLY important in this country?? Will Ferrell might shave off Conan O'Brien's BEARD tonight! Now that's what matters to me!

8. Male exotic dancers are creepy.

9. Lots of good shows are coming up (Big Sandy, Reverend Horton Heat, S.C.O.T.S.). I can guarantee that you'll find me at the Horror of 59/Cult of the Psychic Fetus show next Friday and the New Bomb Turks show in June. Oddly enough, both shows coinside with wedding weekends. This means boatloads of fun and new shoes for mama! Pregnant in heels, baby! Or maybe wedges would be safer since clumsiness is my calling card. Regardless, I'm looking forward to getting dolled up and hitting the town.

10. Help me, Obi-Wan. You're my only hope.

Thinking the point was keep what's mine for me.

Note THIS and note it NOW:

1. When we go to NYC, Coney Island will be open for the season! I've wanted to go to Coney Island my entire life. Sure, I may not be able to ride their rickety, creeptastic carnival-style rides in my preggo state-of-being, but there's NOTHING that says I can't run away with the world-famous Side Show! Take any freak show talent...sword swallowing, fire breathing, and so on...and have it done by a pregnant girl? You got GOLD right there!

2. I think I'll be wrapping up my little Babymoon getaway by seeing my girlfriend herself, Lady Gaga in Cleveland once again, but this time with my wife, the lovely Phoebe. Still working on getting tickets that are in the right place for the right price. Hopefully we can secure those today. I was told Spencer would come out weird and webbed-toed if I watched anymore Glee (it was an ACCIDENT and I only watched 5 horrific minutes) but I am certain he'll come out weird and webbed-toed after the glory that is Gaga.

And now some random blather to wrap your minds around:

A) Is Luthor Vandross dead or did he just stroke out a bunch of times? This is going to bother me and I could probably just Google it...but I won't. So if you know, tell me. What is the physical state of Luthor Vandross.

B) Todd told me that all the excess whistling at the end of "Sitting On The Dock of the Bay" was just filler because Otis Redding had died before it was finished. I HATE whistling, I HATE that song and now, I hate YOU, Otis Redding.

C) Todd also thinks that Roy Orbison is a jerk, which I don't understand. We were listening to the Malt Shop Oldies channel and some song came on and he said, "Uuuuuuuugh, is this that JERK?!". Say whaaaaaat?

D) I think Melt is overrated. I've been there a handful of times and yeah, I've had fun (and I thought about getting a sandwich tattoo but only because I like ham sandwiches) but I don't understand why everyone drenches their panties over it they way they do. Sorry, Cleveland. I probably just made some major enemies.

E) How much make-up do you think I could scrape off Gwen Stefani's face? I'm thinking a lot. I'm going to be sure to wash her face clean before I punch it. She is on my list, after all. Make sure your face is clean now. Can't have no dirty dead.

F) I love you, Mariska Hargitay.

G) They are installing a 15-ton capacity crane at my work and they are installing it WITH a crane. I am totally fascinated by this thing. I wish I could describe it because, yeah, it's a big crane. But it's a BIG CRANE and I will be able to see if every day from my office. I named it Calibos (from the Harry Hamlin "Clash Of The Titans"...not that remake bullshit) because Conrad was rejected. I love the crane. It's fascinating my brain.

H) I need some new blogs to read. It's my morning ritual. Some people read the paper, I read blogs. And lots of my favorites blog few and far-between or have stopped altogether. So spill it. I don't need anything dramatic or poetic, just entertaining. Help a sistah out.

And with that...

Vague sketch of a fantasy laughing at the sunrise like he's been up all night.

A fantastic weekend came to a close and the work week began with me cruising to work with the windows rolled down and the radio blasting total jams from the 50s and 60s. I think it was the right way to keep the good days a'coming. As the Violent Femmes sang, "Good feeling...can't you stay with me just a little longer?".

As previously mentioned, we unexpectedly got some good news that is just letting us be able to breathe and relax (I didn't even know we were holding our breath until we got this news). It just reminded me that we are uber-lucky and uber-fortunate and no doubt have a fanastic life ahead of us. It's so easy to lose sight of how good you've got it when you let stress creep in, ya know? No matter what it is, everything works out one way or another so you might as well just enjoy life! And no, I haven't turned hippie on you.

So after being kicked off in the right direction, my weekend continued full of laid-back awesomeness. I had lunch with John Jackson), hung with my parents, and had plenty of quality time with a husband I'm bananas about, finishing up our living/dining room project and watching Harry Potter movies and Sunday night cartoons. The weather didn't hurt anything either! Ah flip-flops, I missed you, old friends.

Life is good. You don't need to tell me twice. Hope it's good for you, too.

A COUNTDOWN
10 days until our NYC adventure.
45 days until the 3rd trimester.
76 days until Spencer's baby shower.
129 days until we're scheduled to have a baby.

Running like a fox to keep up with me.

2 weeks from today, we'll be waking up in New York City! Our hotel has a view of the Statue and we're a block away from where the WTC was. Can't wait. Roadtrips = yum!

Chelsea Handler is weathered. I read the other day that she's only 35 and I almost fell off my chair. She's comedic but her face is a horror show. She's leathery and orange. I discriminate against the orange. I'm not going to lie.

I've been listening to Duran Duran's "Rio" album on a fairly constant basis lately. I recommend it to all. Lyrical geniuses.

We got some really good news out of the blue yesterday, which is the best kind of good news, in my opinion. I was reminded how lucky we are.

Todd told me that he thinks of me where he hears "She's a Beauty (One In a Million Girls)" by The Tubes. I hate that song but the sentiment was sweet. I'll probably start listening to it in a different way now.

Just woke up from a dream that I was in labor. All laboring moms were wearing hockey jerseys but I hadn't gotten mine yet. I hope I got the Penguins or Sharks, of course.

I think I use the phrase "slash her throat" or "slash their throats" too often. For whatever creepy reason, I like how it sounds.

We have a movie date tomorrow to either see Arthur or Your Highness. I don't expect either to blow my mind but I also don't expect either to rot as hardcore as that Hop nightmare the kid and I saw on Tuesday. Regardless, I lurve the movie theater hardcore! But if it's ad nice as the say weather-wise...maybe the zoo? I expect a great Sunday indeed.

Boots! Reveal yourself!

OK, time to start the day off right...by going back to sleep for a little while. Hey, I work hard while simultaneously growing a young man in my guts. I've earned the right to be lazy!!!

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I think that people are the greatest fun!

I am obsessed with menus and knowing what people eat when they go out to lunch and dinner (breakfast can pretty much eat dirt). If anyone says, "Oh, I went to such and such restaurant last night" and doesn't tell me what they ate, I go apeshit bananas. I have to read menus online, even if I won't be dining there. Blue Pointe Grill and Metro are my most recent menu-stalks.  Just wanted to fascinate you right off the bat with one of my many quirks.

Doc appt today. Details, if there are any, later at 1313 Mockingbird Lane.

In the 5 year battle of  spring-mounted dashboard ninja that kicks vs.  spring-mounted dashboard ninja that punches, punchy has come out victorious, sending his opponent into the windshield. I thought it was going t o be the kicker all along but what do I know? I know it's time for new dashboard entertainment.

Even though "they" say it's a common symptom of pregnancy, I'm blaming all my recent intense dreams on watching too much Law and Order: SVU. That's probably not the best bedtime programming selection. What's horribly boring that I can watch which will lead to quality, dreamless sleep? That would be aces right about now. My brain needs a break.

Time to be productive. Time to be awesome.