The complaint(s)

Will this heinousness ever end? Not only am I queasy half of the time, but now it's my morning shower that contributes to the nausea. And I'm not EVEN going to go into how coffee (my beloved coffee! WHY?) makes the ol' stomach turn. As a result of my stomach's ongoing strike, I think I am actually losing weight (well, maybe not losing...but definitely not gaining either - we'll call it net). My pregnancy jeans that I purchased a few weeks ago are falling down. (oh yes - I look mighty cute. Saggy drawers are in!)

So I have been relegated to...soup. Specifically tomato, but any kind will do. And the soup has the added benefit of keeping me warm, since I have had the chills like crazy recently. (I know - chills? Moi? Poster child for perspiration?)

Ugh. At least I get to leave early today and nap with LPT. Sleep is my only refuge!

Finally, some retribution! In Virginia, it's a class C misdemeanor to annoy someone over the telephone. (maybe I should move to Virginia - Mom, are you listening?) Using this law, a man was convicted of sending annoying text messages to an ex-girlfriend. w00t.

LPT had picture day at her preschool today. When I asked her if she smiled, she shook her head no, and then made some silly face with her tongue sticking out. I can't wait for those pics to come back. Although, I don't see what the big deal about picture day is - I distinctly remember my mother painstakingly trying to run a brush through my hair and get it to lay "just so" before going to school on those extra-special days. I looked retarded most of the time. More importantly, I looked nothing like myself. I never wore my hair curled. Nor did I go to school in pretty dresses and tights - I was a t-shirt kind of kid. And really, shouldn't that be the goal with school pictures? To capture what you looked like at that moment in time? So I suppose I kind of hope she did stick out her tongue. That would definitely be an accurate reflection of her demeanor right now.

In Tennessee, if a guy gives an engagement ring and then the engagement is broken (no matter by whom) the ring is his. Apparently, it's a conditional gift. That's all fine and good, but I believe that there ought to be circumstantial exceptions to the rule. What if the buyer of the ring was...ahem...stepping out?

I want one of these.

And I'm going to start trying my hand at sewing. In the past, I have had no patience for the task, but I think that I am up to the challenge now. I have lofty plans of hand-making all my holiday gifts (you can go ahead and laugh). But I did find this mega chouette pattern the other day - and the skirt would fit all of my (incredibly small-waisted) friends perfectly.

I think I can honestly say that I have never wanted a cupcake more than right now. While I was doing my usual cruise for news at the New York Times, I came across this article - Don't Even Think About Touching That Cupcake. It talks about how cupcakes are being banned from some schools due to their distinct lack of nutritional value. However, this cupcake ban has many up in arms - cupcakes are just wonderful! How could anyone say differently?

Well, I went to a website mentioned in the article called Cupcakes Take The Cake, which officially began my downward spiral into Flickr. But I did see some completely wonderful cupcakes, and now I am craving them something awful.
J and I tried to make something like the "Toffee Tumbler" cupcake, except bigger (and thus much messier) around Christmas, and the entire thing fell apart and we were left munching on sticky doughnuts for the rest of the evening.

And LPT is getting more and more upset when she sees me in the middle of the day. Sometimes my mom will stop by and bring lunch, or sometimes I'll go to her house. LPT freaks out whenever I have to leave, screaming "No, Mommy! Don't go!" And every time it reminds me of that horrible scene in Sophie's Choice where she decides to let the Nazis take her daughter. Guilt overload.

I'm beginning to think that my body is suddenly anti-pregnancy. I'm feeling okay today, but I was hella queasy all last week and the week before, and on Friday I had to leave work early because I had a fever. What is going on? I hope this is no indication of what the actual midget will be like, because I'm not sure I could handle that. AND I've been having some strange dreams. I know that pregnant women often have...(ahem) interesting dreams, but these are beginning to freak me out. They're very real, and they each night they involve someone I have dated in the past.

LPT is driving me berserk. She has morphed into teenage mode, complete with responses like an exasperated "No, mom! Gosh! Jeez!" and slamming of doors. This behavior makes me want to scream. That, and she's figured out that when I'm in the shower is the best time to climb to dangerous heights in the kitchen and scavenge for candy. Though perhaps I should be glad that she's sharing: the other morning, she came into the bathroom during my shower with one Dum-Dum sucker in her mouth and one for me, too.

I have a new theme in my cooking. RUSTICA. E made an onion tart the other day and it was fabulous. When I asked her about how she did it, she informed me it was completely easy, just throw a few things together and do the absolute minimal in terms of making it look "nice" and "neat" and bake the sucker. Less effort for super food? Sounds like my kind of thing.

Oh, and I would like to make a statement regarding the eternal messiness of my bedroom: those piles of clothes have meaning! I'm aspiring to be like Corriette Schoenaerts, who is the creator of this wonderful photo. Look closely at the overall shape of the clothes. Does it maybe resemble a continent?

I think I have finally found the hands-down UGLIEST article of clothing ever in the world. Allow me to present to you....bikini jeans!

Yeah. I don't think I need to say much more, except that if you go the link, you will see a picture of a very unfortunate woman wearing these in white.

While still reeling from those, I saw the most frivolous lawsuit ever: Nebraska state senator Ernie Chambers (D) is suing God. Now, I'm sure many of you are saying, "It's about damn time! Who does that God fellow think he is, anyway?" The rest may be wondering why Sen. Chambers, once called "the angriest black man in Nebraska," would undertake such a grand gesture. Well, he's sick of everything, that's why!

The lawsuit accuses God “of making and continuing to make terroristic threats of grave harm to innumerable persons, including constituents of Plaintiff who Plaintiff has the duty to represent.” It says God has caused “fearsome floods, egregious earthquakes, horrendous hurricanes, terrifying tornadoes, pestilential plagues, ferocious famines, devastating droughts, genocidal wars, birth defects and the like.” (It's a shame he had to stick in genocidal wars and birth defects. I was enjoying the alliteration!) The suit also claims God has caused “calamitous catastrophes resulting in the wide-spread death, destruction and terrorization of millions upon millions of the Earth’s inhabitants including innocent babes, infants, children, the aged and infirm without mercy or distinction.” Chambers also says that God “has manifested neither compassion nor remorse, proclaiming that [the] defendant will laugh” when catastrophe strikes.

And yesterday was a very long day, even though I didn't have to go to work. A's grandfather passed on Saturday, and the funeral was yesterday. I did not know her grandfather (affectionately called "Dandy") very well, but when I finally drove home alone after the actual service, graveside service, and obligatory (huge) meal at the church, I felt distinctly sad at the passing of someone so wonderful. [cliché alert] He meant so much to (seemingly) everyone he had cause to know, and almost every memory recounted that day involved him giving or doing for someone, no matter the situation. I know that I can be empathetic to a fault,* but Dandy's funeral was one of the saddest I have ever attended, and I was glad to have been there to discover more about a very good man. I love you, A.

*Empathetic to a fault: last night D and I went to dinner and a movie. He had been talking about how he loved the new Halloween movie because it gave a much more psychological view of Michael Myers and his descent into madness than the usual slasher flick. So I thought, why not? Well, I'm not sure if it's because I'm preggers or what, but that movie almost made me ralph. I made it to the gunshot scene (shortly after the fork scene) and then had to leave the theatre. I suppose that now I know that I cannot watch someone being bludgeoned to death without becoming horrified and tossing my cookies.

Want to shudder? Admit that you are from the same state as this girl. I know that MTV's My Super Sweet 16 is supposed to highlight the bitchiest teens / daddy's girls in the world, but hoo boy! This one takes the cake. I don't know if she makes me mad because she's so awful, or that she's from Campbellsville. Ugh. And you know that at least a handful of people are going to be in therapy later in life because of her. She's that one element of high school - the megabitch cheerleader dating the football player who dumps on everyone because she can.

Ok, I've spent enough time on her. On to brighter topics! I found this wall decal from Blik featured on Threadless - so cool. I love that it isn't that sappy-sweet soft-focus design of so much kids' stuff. And how wonderful to think that giraffes and elephants will save a burning building!

And does anyone remember that incident at McDonald's in Mount Washington a few years ago? The restaurant received a phone call from a man claiming to be a detective, accusing one of the employees of stealing. He instructed the assistant manager to strip-search her in the office, then things went to hell in a handbasket because the manager called her boyfriend in to stay on the phone while she tended to customers. The poor girl had to do all sorts of unsavory things, and then some random customer was instructed to come in and watch (via orders from the "detective"). Get the details here.

Anyway, in the Courier-Journal today, there was a huge article talking about how McDonald's (corporate) knew of 30 other similar incidents occurring at company-owned and franchise stores around the country and did not volunteer this information to anyone before or after the Mt. Washington incident occurred. Excuses ranged from "no one asked for the information" to "legally, we do not have an obligation to franchise employees" to "it was not our responsibility."

Southwest has a new ad campaign advertising its "Skimpy Fares." Classy.

And now you can buy a veritable Tommy Gun for your little mobster - has anyone seen the commercial for this thing? It makes NO SENSE. (I would definitely post it, but alas, I cannot find it.)

And Greenspan is releasing his memoirs. I love this guy. He routinely made all my economics professors in college have to rewrite their lectures because he continually dropped the interest rate. With every drop, the profs would decalre that it could not possibly go any lower, and then in the next class would scramble to explain why Greenspan had done it again. And really, how could you not love a guy who wrote the book in the bathtub? It's officially on my wishlist.

And to everyone who would like to read more books, but don't have the time to actually sit down and read one: I bring you Daily Lit, a site where you can sign up to receive books in parts via email or RSS. Personally, I'm reading The Beautiful and Damned by F. Scott Fitzgerald in 160 increments, one delivered to my inbox daily. This may even give you a fighting chance of finishing War and Peace!

So my friend A has, in the past, had this habit of dating strange guys. They seemed nice at first, then they went all psycho on her, and did things like bang on the front doors of friends' apartments screaming "I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!" and woke up half the neighborhood in the process. But I now think that maybe A had it easy dealing with her guys. This crazy (lovesick?) imbecile injected a syringe of his blood into his longtime crush after she spurned his advances because, "He thought if he could not marry her, at least his blood can stay inside her body." What a looney.

But anyway, look at these spiffy shoes! They're available on Etsy, from Brooklyn Handmade. Usually kids are the sole recipients of such cool footwear, but these little babies are for grown-ups.

Below you can see some of the other offerings (sadly, only for the midgets) on Etsy. And the Rosie the Riveter shirt is officially on my wish list. (it's for those in the family way such as meself)

Two items in the news have me ON FIRE. Number one: Southwest found fault with another girl's outfit. This is bullshit. I had a shirt like that in my pre-baby years, and I never got a second glance. Maybe my chest just wasn't ample enough? Number two: If I tattoo DO NOT RESUSCITATE on my chest, I think that is a pretty clear indication of my wishes. Remind me not to have an accident in Iowa.

And finally, an invention I can really get behind: A voice-stress ice-cream dispenser. The machine asks you a series of questions, records your answers and analyzes them for how stressed out/sad you are. The worse you feel, the more ice cream you receive. Why didn't someone think of this sooner?

I had the ultrasound today. I'm not as far along as I thought - only 6-7 weeks. (I think now I can feel less guilty about at least one party I attended.) But as an indulgence to me, I'm posting the ultrasound picture. They labeled the little squiggle that is the baby, so it's not quite as confusing. Just look at the little dot in the middle of the black circle. Otherwise, I'd like to introduce you to my uterus!

D is out of town and living it up in the City of Sin - I told him that as long as he didn't bring home the clap, I would be cool. While he's gone, A and I had a pathetically short My So-Called Life "marathon" last night. Not to say that we didn't have fun, and I for one relish time spent laying back and talking. But marathon? We got through three episodes. Maybe we're just getting old.

Oy. I don't think I even have the energy to rant about this site. (not Feministing, the other one.) Just know that I am one of many people who are irritated and completely sick of all these utter lies masquerading as facts making their way to teenagers everywhere.

Ok, on a lighter note, I went to the OB-GYN today to see just what is going on with this "baby" business - how far along, when am I due, etc. It would appear that I am between 9 and 11 weeks, and that puts me having a baby in early April. Which means it will be an Aries (scroll down the link page for parent-child relationships). And just a little aside here, I hate peeing into cups. I suddenly become all thumbs, and frequently do what I did this morning: spill it all over myself in the attempt to sit it on the side of the sink.

And here's Modern Love. Read it.

Ah, Mo Rocca. You never fail to deliver.

Cuppa joe

I am astonished. Apparently, Southwest Airlines is dispensing fashion advice, and getting all pissy when people don't listen to them. Kyla Ebbert was escorted off her flight to Tucson (she was going for an appointment with a doctor) by a customer service supervisor named Keith because her whole outfit was offensive. Was she dressed in dominatrix gear? No. Perhaps an outfit Britney Spears would wear? No. She had the audacity to wear a white miniskirt, a tank top (with separate bra underneath), a cardigan, and heels. Now, personally, I don't approve of miniskirts with heels, but I'll give a bit of leeway on this one. When she protested to "Keith" that she was only going to be in Tucson for a few hours and thus did not have luggage carrying ostensibly more appropriate clothing, he told her that she should go home and change then take a later flight. It was only when she cited the appointment time that he reluctantly let her back on the plane, but she had to pull her skirt down and pull her tank top up.

On a lighter note, Philippine president Joseph Estrada will have mistresses "from 02 to 08" tesitfy against him in the impeachment trial to discover how he acquired his "unexplained wealth." He apparently was very free in his spending on the ladies, giving a mansion and other properties as cadeaux. And even better, one of the mistresses is named Peachy!

And I am officially a high-maintenance coffee drinker. I always made fun of people who had outrageously long coffee orders, but today as the barista at Starbucks (please don't hate me! it's fall and they have a marvelous drink) handed me my beverage, he jauntily said, "Ok, here's your grande nonfat no whip pumpkin spice latte. Have a great day!" That's 5 specifications, folks. Does that make me a yuppie?

And finally, I have a new goal for myself in the kitchen. I would like to take this opportunity to notify my friend B (spouse of P - yes, that means you) that she is fully expected to make these as well, since she's quite the Martha.

Well, it's about damn time someone came to a conclusion on this: if a woman gets an abortion, she should go to jail for 15 years to life, taking into consideration her circumstances. And what would those circumstances be? If she is coerced into the deed by a husband, boyfriend, or parent. (Catholic Online)

All this is in response to an article by Anna Quindlen of Newsweek called How Much Jail Time? In it, she poses the very question: if abortion were to be outlawed, it would be a crime to have one. So what would the punishment be for these women having abortions? It's a question most people haven't pondered (I'll admit, it never crossed my mind until seeing a certain video - but more on that later) because everyone is caught up in the (admittedly slightly bigger) question of whether abortion should be legal or not. Is it murder? Is there ever an allowance for it?

There's a video on YouTube that attempts to answer that question of punishment. In it, a man approaches a pro-life protest in Libertyville and asks each of the people what they think the consequences should be for a woman who has an abortion. Their answers are swell - "It's between her and God." "Counseling." But these people think that abortion is murder! What if we sentenced all murderers to counseling? Maybe we should just sterilize all the women who have abortions, so that there's no chance of them doing it again. I mean, if they don't want kids, they don't need the parts, right? Or maybe we could just make them wear a big red A on their tummies, so that the rest of society can throw things at her and forever remind her that she didn't have a baby she could afford, didn't want, etc.

Ms. Quindlen ends her column with a tough ultimatum: "But there are only two logical choices: hold women accountable for a criminal act by sending them to prison, or refuse to criminalize the act in the first place. If you can't countenance the first, you have to accept the second. You can't have it both ways."

How true. But then, Catholic Online contributor Matt Abbott decided to come up with a real answer in his op/ed column titled The abortion-seeking woman: perpetrator or victim? In it, he proposes the sentence mentioned at the beginning of this post. Now, I give kudos to the author for presenting his argument in a rational, non-bible-thumping manner; he even acknowledges that many will probably not agree with him.

He does mention that even discussing the issue is somewhat an act of futility, since "sadly, abortion is still legal." I could not disagree more. The whole muddy debacle that is the pro-choice vs. pro-life argument needs to take into account all possible outcomes of their actions. Myself, being of the pro-choice persuasion, I don't think we should go throwing women in jail because they exercised a choice and decided that every child in their lives should be wanted. However, rallying like the dickens to get the procedure outlawed (South Dakota is almost there, folks) and then to simply shrug your shoulders when asked about the repercussions is just poor planning. In addition to the punishment question, I would also like to see real solutions to the cost of prenatal care for all these women who have to keep their pregnancies viable, as well as the cost of raising a child she may have been ill-prepared to have. And who will pay for counseling if the woman is a victim of rape? Or incest? What happens to these kids?

So the argument goes way beyond the initial moral question. Economics and the legal system have places, too.

Oy.

So let's just establish right now that giving birth is messy. It ain't pretty, and I don't think I would want to wear (and heinously stain) my own clothes during the process. Apparently, there are those who do not feel the same way.

I found this company, Binsi (via Jezebel) that makes skirts and tops to wear while in labor. They're cute, and I would definitely waer them before and after the deed. And the owners of the company have taken into account the sensitive (itchy as hell) skin that comes with pregnancy, the need for easy accessability concerning your hospital visit (IVs, epidurals, baby monitors, etc.) But precisely because these things are so cute, why the hell would I want to wear them during (arguably) one of the messiest times of my life? That's why hospital gowns are open in the back; I can't really see myself being "so thankful" for the mass of pleats in the back (while still looking chic and streamlined in the front! because that's exactly what is on my mind while having a baby - does my skirt look tailored?)

Then there's the idea that Jezebel brought up: you must be cute and look nice at all times. There is no room for just letting it all hang out, or just saying "Screw you guys, I'm having a baby without makeup or stylish clothes and I am comfortable with that. Now gimme a popsicle."

I have a new favorite photographer. His name is Matt Stuart, and his photos are quite witty. See all of his portfolio here.

And, in my (never-ending) quest for spiffy design stuff, I found this! It's a stone tile that you can incorporate into any paved area, allowing for a bit o' green to peek through. I think it's swell, and would like to have several to make a patio and border.

And then (can you possibly withstand any more?) I was cruising around the interweb, looking for cheap maternity clothing, and I found this website. And then I shuddered and began trying to figure out (a) how in the hell you are supposed to use the bathroom once in such a contraption, and (b) how in the hell a pregnant woman, out of breath, hot and cranky is supposed to squeeze herself into such a contraption. No me gusta. Although, if it did not cost $120, I would definitely give it to people as a joke at a baby shower. And I can just see the excitement on D's face if I owned one of these things. For this and a matching men's version, go here.

Yay for not working

Ok, once again - have you all read Modern Love this week? Get on it. And not to further worsen the neurosis of the author, but I tell LPT "I love you" all the time. It's probably because my dad and most certainly my mom told me all the time. Come to think of it, most of the people in all my family extensions have always been fairly frequent with verbal expressions of affection. But it takes all kinds - my friend A's family were never really big on hugs, so when she first started coming to see mine, she had to do some major adjusting, and quick. And LPT has inherited the affection-displaying gene. She will hug and kiss with the best of 'em.

And I was going to save this for post-doctor visit, but I'll just go ahead and put it in writing: there's a new midget on the way. And I'm guessing it'll arrive in about 7 months, but I'll know for sure on the 11th (my appointment).

And now that that's out of the way (thus explaining away my obvious tummy and cranky disposition), I have to go chase the midget (no work = no babysitter = a mom on the go)