Friday, February 25, 2005

My cat can be a real douchebag


How hilarious is that snap above? Oh, not very? It's just me then I guess. Here's the story. I have to go out of town for a few days next week, and I'm neurotic, so I worry about leaving the cats at home alone to starve (both literally and emotionally) and die of dehydration. I mostly wory about the latter because Harvey (that's DJ Fancy Feast to you) likes to dump the water bowl over the second he sees it, leaving a lake in the kitchen and bone dry bowls. So yesterday went to the pet store and got this self watering thing called PETZAZZ that looks like a water cooler for animls. Sweet, I thought, not only will this be too heavy for Harvey to knock over, he and Otis can meet up next to it and discuss the lastest episode of The Apprentice or some shit.

As soon as I got home, I lovingly filled it with filtered water and set it on the floor. Sure enough, Harvey padded straight over and tried to knock the tank off the top. I had a great time laughing at his frustration. BUT then he just stuck his paws into the bowl part and started flicking scoops of water all over the kitchen. He thought it was great because as soon as the bowl started to empty, more water would rush down out of the tank and he could just do the running man in the water to his heart's content, drenching the entire kitchen. Poor Otis started drinking the standing water that collected in his food bowl. I wonder if he was thinking, "Mmm, ocean fresh salmon flavored!"

Harvey is such a bastard.

TGI Friday Five!

Take a look around, you're probably at work and have loads of assorted crap strewn across your desk and floor...ok, maybe that's just me. I'm pretty sick of looking at it every day and thinking about how I should clean it up so everyone who walks by my office stops giving me that little raised-eyebrow glance, thinking. "Uh huuuh, I see she still has those newspapers thrown all over the floor. Is she secretly housbreaking a puppy in there?" Well fuck that. Let's all dig deeper into that pile of crap on our desks, shall we? And if you're all cozy at home in your pjs or having some nice coffee in a wireless hotspot and not chained to your desk, don't even reply because I'm mad at you and we're not speaking.

Answer these five for me today. Please!

Who knows the evils that lurk in the heart of your cube/office/desk?
1. Pick up the closest piece of paper. What does the third line down say? "get new menu from banquet center" Mine was a to-do list. I'm trying to plan a menu for an event my office is having in a few months, and the woman at the center is such a jackass; she's even more inept at her job than I am at mine, and that's making me look bad. All I need her to do is send me a damn menu. I've been calling her for three weeks about this, and she just can't seem to master e-mail or a fax machine.

2. How many writing utensils do you have within arm's reach? I have a big mug full of pens, pencils, markers. Let's see...16

3. Do you have a photo on your desk? What is the subject?I have a picture of Mike in front of CBGB's. It's a swell picture, but sometimes I look at it and think about how he kind of looks like Dave Eggers in it, and that kind of annoys me.

4. What about books? Any of those?I have some saucy, provocative stuff here....The AP Stylebook and Libel Manual, the Yellow Pages, the 2005 Indiana Electric Cooperative Directory, Webster's Dictionary. Yeah, don't cross me, or I might have to, uh....look stuff up on yo' sorry ass.

5. What's the most unusual thing on your desk that best defines you as a person?My damn cat-a-day calendar, bitches!

Thursday, February 24, 2005

Ideal World

In my ideal world the work week would be three days long or you would only work from 10am to 3pm leaving plenty of time for sleep, exercise, and spending time with friends and family. I am having one of those days where you just want a different job. Wouldn't it be great to only work from 10am to 3pm everyday. I would sleep in, work out, and then go to work. After work I would run errands and then hang out with Paul (actually have dinner together). I feel like we have a long distance relationship even though we live in the same house, that's how much we talk on the phone! I think everyone should be able to live in their ideal world at some point in their life. What would your ideal world be like?

Saturday, February 19, 2005

What's Going on up There?



I'm a huuuuuuuuuge dork and I love it! One of my classes this semester is about how the brain works, learns, breaks down, etc....all that neuroscience jazz. And it's my favorite! I'm so into it, I even love reading the textbook. I've also started renting out the audiotapes my professor has of the various brain conferences she goes to so I can listen and learn on my now 30 min. long commute to school and work. The brain is fascinating, what can I say?!

Anyway...you may not feel quite as strongly as I do about the brain, but if you're somewhat interested, Inside the Brain is an amazing book that really lays it on the line for you. And it's written for a general audience, so the author (he's actually a journalist) doesn't get too science-y on you. It's a very easy read, and if I may be so bold, a bit of a page-turner. Happy reading and learning!

Knowing is Half the Battle

More than anything right now, I am bitter. Damn, stupid, ugly flu virus has kept me down for the count for about 10 days and totally out of commission for a total of three....and it's sunny and gorgeous outside!! Ugh, but rest assured, after two days of chillin' out max on the couch, I am fully up to date on how Ashlee, Nick and Jessica, Lindsay, and the rest of the Hollywood crew are doing.

However, all of this free time has got me a thinkin'. That and an interesting belated Christmas gift from Sean, the ex. How do you know when someone else truly knows you? Is it when your boyf gives up the remote on Sunday morn so you can catch up on E!? Or when a friend selects the perfect outfit and says it would look better on you?

In my mind, two things stand out:

1. When anyone can recommend a band or group that I would like is clutch.

2. If a fella can pick out a fantastic piece of jewelry (and I don't mean diamonds necessarily).

Of course there are more, but those two were my initial thoughts. How 'bout you?

Friday, February 18, 2005

Dude, don't bogart the Friday Five

Forgive me if this doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. I’m just now crashing hard from a sugar high. See, I brought these dark chocolate mint candy things in today (they’re called After Eights). I was going to give them to this guy down the hall I need to interview because he won’t do the interview unless I bring him presents. Not even kidding. Well he isn’t here today, so I busted them out for lunch. I got the After Eights in my Christmas stocking, and seeing that they are dark chocolate, I thought they’d be grody to the max. Boy was I wrong. They’re SO AWESOME!!! Haha, I’m so glad Greedy didn’t come to work today! They’re like junior mints only super duper flat. I think I’ve eaten about 26 of them and I have a raging headache to prove it.

ANYWAY I had help out at a career day presentation at a way rural high school yesterday and I really didn’t enjoy getting the moves put on me by some acne-riddled Carhart-wearing, confederate flag waving FFA teens, but you know, them’s the breaks. Seriously, if I go out of my office and into the “community” I either get inappropriate remarks or chastised for not being married and great with child at the ripe old age of 24. It hit a low when I went to profile one of the guys at the plant and he told me he was so excited that I was coming, he put on clean underwear just for the occasion. Aww, now how’s that for appreciation? Send my performance bonus back, I don’t need it with feedback like this!

Days like these make me truly appreciate what I have. And I know, I know, Valentine’s day was waaay back on Monday, but my Friday Five goes out Ole Macky.

The Top 5 Reasons it’s Great to Date an Ex-Hippie

That’s right, my fella was once a full-on Phish tape collecting, patchouli stinking, Bonnaroo attending friend of Jerry. And I love him for it. Despite the haircut and current preference for indie rock and electronica, some vestiges still (and will probably always remain), but that’s just fine with me. Patagonia clothing? Check. Previous job in world music? Check. Weird hippie dance moves? Oh, you better believe it. Lest you get the impression of Ian/Ray from High Fidelity, here are my reasons without further ado:

5. The Random Factor. Mike is the friendliest ever. Years of camping out and chilling on festival show lawns have conditioned him to make friends with just about anyone in a bar. We can walk in, sit down, and it never fails. By the time we’ve been there for a half hour, we know everything about the person next to us from their childhood phobias to their laundry detergent preferences. Sometimes they’re a little crazy, so it’s like free live entertainment just for us.

4. Hardcore feminist/vegan ex-girlfriends make me look good. I’m not easy to live with, I’ll be the first to admit it. I’m moody, bossy and I need a lot of attention. But here are two things I’m not: 1. a picky eater 2. a big fan of chick rock. It seems to me most hippie chicks have pretty strict vegetarian/vegan diets that take extensive time/effort/expense to prepare. The also probably like to make these dishes while listening to Joni Mitchell or Ani DiFranco. Oh, did I mention that I like to make sweeping generalizations too? Sure, I like some female musicians (see Mirah in the sidebar), but only in strict moderation, and if it’s food and you put it in front of me, I’ll probably eat it. I don’t care what it is. These aren’t great attributes by any means, but hey maybe they make me seem low maintenance….maybe? Ok, I know this one’s a stretch but me not owning any Joni Mitchell probably makes Mike pretty happy at no effort on my part. And if I do feel the urge to bust out the Tori or Fiona once a year, it’s not going to really faze him.

3. Ex-Hippies are Pack Rats. Hippies may look down on earthly possessions, but from the camping gear to the thousands of bootleg tapes and CDs, Mike can’t say anything about my books or my shoes. He literally doesn’t have any room. We can both amass ridiculous collections in peace, with only a frustrated sigh at each other, fully aware that we’re both a part of the “too much damn crap in the house” problem.

2. He’ll never be a metrosexual. This is where dating the EX hippie is key. Mike’s a clean guy. He showers regularly and even steals my conditioner sometimes, but that’s as far as it goes. He has one bottle of hair product, some soap, toothpaste and deodorant. I love that when we go out of town, he just stuffs some extra boxers and a pair of socks into my bag and calls it a day. When he needs a trim, he breaks out the Wahl home cut and puts me to work. I never have push the bathroom door open in fear that I’ll find him exfoliating or using my pumice stone during a home pedicure sesh.

1. Ahh, the best for last. Shaving is optional. For me, that is (and I guess Mike too). Hippie ex girlfriends with hairy armpits have a hand in this one too. If I don’t shave my legs (or anywhere else) for a week, he really just doesn’t care. When I do, it’s like Christmas all over again. “Oooh, wow, you’re all smooth! You’re legs are sooooo soft!” It’s really nice. Instead of being all pissed because he feels like he’s entitled to have a lady with a magically hairless body, he’s appreciative of those days I take an extra few minutes in the shower with my Gilette. And as we all know from my days at the plant a little appreciation (and clean undies) go a long way.

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

A Late Valentine

Here's a nice rock and or roll video, courtesy of band members that were all a part of one of the better shows I've seen in my life (despite being propositioned by the Stills' tour bus driver and ending up on stage eating cake out of Emily Haines' hands...it wasn't as dirty as it sounds *ahem, Jennie)

The Stills' Love and Death video, featuring the lovely Emily Haines from Metric and Broken Social Scene. Click to view. (Via All Things Christie)

Wisconsin Blows a Cheese Wad

Hey Friends, just checking in....Matt and I were in Madison,Wisconsin yesterday so I could attend a workshop designed to teach me how to body slam angry pre-teens without knocking anyone's teeth out. Translation: handling kiddies with severe anger issues. Just wanted to let y'all in on a little secret: Masison, WI sucks. I was jazzed to visit , stay at a hotel on the "downtown" square, and be all bohemian in this little college enviornment. So such luck. It snowed/rained the whole time we were there and I somehow lost my love for college towns when I saw 18 year old girls wearing denim miniskirts and uggs, sans hosiery, in 30 degree shitty weather. Needless to say, we didn't blend in. At a lunch spot on the campus's main drag, the teen server acually called us sir and ma'am. My immediate thought: Do I really appear that uncool and middle aged?

Off to Atlanta tomorrow for a few days of warm and sun (I really hope). I am looking forward to this trip as I have only driven through Atlanta and been in the airport. Home, however, is the best....as I testify after sleeping in my own bed last night. Here are just a few reasons why:

-you can sleep/hang out in bed without worrying who fucked on the pastel comforter blanket that they never change in hotels.
-when you hear someone fucking in the apartment above you, you know who they are, as opposed to the people fucking in the next hotel room, who must be weird and having some sort of affair or kinky action.
-you can open your bedroom window and no one's worried that you might jump out

Friday, February 11, 2005

Top 5 Ways to Spread the News that You're Knocked Up



Not that I am. But everyone around me seems to be having babies or talking about having them, and I seem to be dreaming about them, so I thought it would be funny to think of alternative ways of letting your partner know.

5. Visit baby websites on the computer and then "accidentally" leave the window open.
4. Ask your sig other to pick up a few books for you. Include "Hott Names for Your Baby" and other baby-related literature on the list.
3. Buy a bassinet and set it up in your bedroom. Include a doll for added effect.
2. When you're out at the bar and your sig other asks what you want to drink, say "I better just have a soda!" while rubbing your belly. This could also be an excellent way to break the news to friends.
1. Park in the "expectant mothers" spot at the grocery store. As your sig other starts to stop you and tell you you can't park there, give a sly wink and say, "Oh, but I can." I fully intend to use this one myself, but hopefully not for at least 5 years.


I am such a freakin' idiot

Last week one of the secretaries at my work (not to be confused with my personal secretary...riiight) borrowed my digital camera to take pictures of her computer screen. Why she couldn't just take screen shots of what she needed, I'll never know. But anyway. I usually use rechargeable batteries (by the way, my grandma pronounces them bat-trees. just thought you'd like to know), but this lady put regular batteries in the camera when she saw mine were running low. I knew this, but I just let it slip my mind. This morning I had to photograph an engineering training session and by the time I was ready to go, my camera indicated my batteries were low. So of course I took them out of the camera and shoved them into my charger and plugged that shit in. Now, about two hours later I hear a loud pop and look over at the charger to see one of the batteries leaking acid all over the place. Then a second one blew. I think I have all of the acid cleaned out of the guts of the charger, but I'm kind of freaked out about using it again. I don't want to tell my boss because he'll think I'm completley mentally deficient, which might not be too far off from the truth. The acid all over my finger probably isn't going to help anything. Ay yi yi.

On a dumber note, last night I had a dream that Snoop Dogg was my brother and for some reason my crime-fighting partner and I had to kill him. So I busted a cap in Snoop's ass (and chest) and he came back as a Little Tykes car for kids. I'm seriously serious here. And in a Stephen King's Christine-like twist, his soul lived on in the plastic car and the car would go around killing people in the night. Yeah. I'm pretty sure I knew it was fake all along because the car didn't have hydraulics.

So despite all this I had some job interviews in Chicago (or surrounding suburbs) yesterday, and one of the places wants to hire me as an intern for a month and then take me on full time if they like me. It's a PR firm that's super cool and everyone who works there is very nice and fun, but I will have to take a significant paycut (scary seeing as how my cost of living will definitely go up) along with the risk that they'll boot my ass to the curb in a month or so if they don't like me. Choose my own adventure! What should I do, people?

Friday Five

I thought I would beat Alison to the punch and come up with a Top five list this morning....
Here it is my top five reasons for hating Valentine's Day:

1. The jewelry all of the jewelers advertise is BUTT UGLY

2. Every guy that was an asshole all year round is expected to buy roses and candy for his annoying whining girlfriend, who complains if he doesn't spend a certain amount of money.

3. Everything is suddenly a Valentine's Day gift (example: I was getting some wine for a party tonight at Marsh and the sign said "Buy some wine for that special person for Valentine's Day." Seriously could I get Paul toilet paper and call it a gift?)

4. There is nothing to get a guy (if you wanted to get your bf or husband something)

5. And above all it's a lame holiday to make someone who isn't in a relationship feel bad about themselves for nothing!


What are your reasons for hating (or loving) Valentine's Day?

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

I Like Your Sleeves. They're really big.

For anyone who even mildly enjoyed Napoleon Dynamite, this Napoleon Dynamite soundboard is flippin' sweet. Any movie that features a llama named Tina who eats ham casseroles is ok in my book.

So this site, Bag, Borrow or Steal has a novel concept. It's pretty much Netflix for purses. You join on a monthly basis and then borrow purses for a week or more. Then when you get sick of them, you exchange them for more. I don't think I'll be signing up because I'm still in the honeymoon phase with my green Michael Kors bag, but I do love thesepurses from Bells and Whistles.

Speaking of shopping (wish I could, but I'm totally broke), this may be my new favorite site: Treehugger. They feature an array of eco friendly but design conscious products in all sorts of price ranges to fit a ton of needs. I am in love with this chair.

Monday, February 07, 2005

I Never Thought I'd Say This...

I actually wish that I could be miraculously older at work (like 35, with a stylish wardrobe, good figure and rep of being the coolest teacher around) and then return to my spry 24 years after 6pm. One thing I've quickly learned this year: As a 24 year old chick, I have little to no credibility an authority figure. The problem is not my lack of assertiveness or leadership, this I know. I have no problem telling people, including my peers and those older than me what to do. I have no problem firing 40 year old men. I have no problem (most of the time) disciplining and teaching children who are statistically the one of the most difficult populations to work with. People that know me know that I am fairly organized. Most of all, I really like my job, so I want to do well. My boss thinks I am doing a good job...so what's the problem?

Other women. Women who are older than I am. They think that I am just so cute and adorable but have no clue about the way the world "really" works. On a daily basis, one particular lady attributes any sort of minor bump in the road to the fact that I am not old enough to "get it" while she could run circles around me with all her experience. I'll be the first to admit that I am still learning. I love learning. I know I make mistakes at my job- everyone does. No one has died, gone to the hospital or seriously broken the rules under my watch. So what's with the older women hating on the bright young things? This frustrates me more than anything else. It's just one of those days when being myself just doesn't seem good enough, but there's not a damn thing I can do about my age (except tan like crazy without sunscreen?)

I'll save men in the workplace for another post--whole other animal.


Friday, February 04, 2005

Who's that (CRAZY) Lady?



I have a question for all of you readers out there: what constitutes living somewhere? If you spend every night at a place; shower there; do your laundry there; have a key and come and go as you please; spend all your free time there; and refer to going to the place you supposedly live at as going to visit...WHERE do you actually live? WHERE should you being paying the bills at? And, an even more pressing question...who would do something like that? I'll tell you who: my brother's girlfriend Lisa, aka Crazy. Jennie can vouch for me on this one; one of the first stories she told Jennie was about the time she got busted for having concealed weapons. What were those weapons, you ask? Is it like at the airport where they consider a nail file to be a dangerous weapon? No. Crazy had brass knuckles and a knife! Keep in mind this is only 1/5 charges on her record. And yes, this fine young thing has a key to my house. Will I ever be in a decent living situation???!!!

Friday Five Hits the Dope Spot


Since I essentially behave like an 83-year-old woman with osteoperosis, (this is not the same thing as having an "old soul") one of the greatest joys I get in life is reading the For Better or For Worse comic strips daily. It's funny! It's a soap opera! Really, it's neither. Well, this recent installment in the gripping tale of slutty eighth grader Becky and the older high school boy had me scratching my blue hair. I guess I'm just not down with the kids' jive talk these days.

Read it here.

"Hands On?" "Gig?" "Roadside?" What the hell are these kids talking about? Why can't they just use the timeless classic that everyone can enjoy and understand: "Becky? She a ho!" I'm not the only one who thinks Lynn Johnston, the comic's author is on "crack." (see here and here...ooh, you can even get a t-shirt at this one.)

This talk of "hangin' high" (I guess Becky's on drugs too. Maybe she'll crash through a window on angel dust like Helen Hunt in that old after-school special) got me thinking. I may not have ever been "roadside," but most of us have had our fair shares of "gigs" in our days. I may or may not have even "been there" once or twice. When you think about sex, and all the other various acts and people involved ("gigs" "players" "strumpets" etc.) there are innumerable hilarious and fitting slang terms to use.

Here are my Top 5 Terms for All Things Sexual
1. Knockin' boots
2. Taking the skin boat to tuna town (courtesey of Matt Hautman)
3. Boning
4. Getting your freak on
5. and of course...Hitting the dope spot.

What are some other classics? People who read this, comment just to say hi for the love of Pete! Make my Friday!

Thursday, February 03, 2005

Back in the Saddle Again

Ooooo, I have so much to share! First off, I am obsessed with Don Cheadle and his new movie, Hotel Rwanda. I am by no means a movie critic and pretty much enjoy most any movie I see, but this is amazing. Everyone that has chatted with me in the past week has heard my love for this film and I recommend you all go see this magnificent tribute to a hero who emerged from devestating circumstances. Most of us were in middle school when the genocide in Rwanda began and for me watching/reading the news was equivalent to cleaning the litter box, so this was pure enlightenment. Plus, Wyclef wrote the title track!

Going along with the movie, I have been pondering a significant line said by one of the UN Peacekeepers: "We are peacekeepers, not peacemakers". Now, I am going to get a little new age on y'all, but what do you think about this statement? Especially in a time where Pres. Bush is on a democracy tirade, seeking to bring "democratic freedom" to all corners of the earth, is America making peace in communist countries? Perhaps working at the Peace Learning Center has brought out my hippie side (drumming circle at the United States of Mind anyone?), but I hope I am actively making peace in my world.

Okay, lastly, I have some fabulous news! I am one step closer to moving to Denver as I have been accepted to their School of Social Work for the fall! Still keeping my fingers crossed for their law school......

Hawaiian Shirts are Lame

There, I said it. Just had to get that off my chest. Almost as lame are pantyhose, which I am wearing today. They make me want to scratch at my legs until my fingers bleed. Today, instead of wearing some combo of usual black, gray and white, I actually have on color, and all the women in my office are making a big fuss about it. I don't like it. It makes me feel like a minature pony.

This has no bearing on anything, but I thought it was ruhl funny for some reason (via Pink is the New Blog) :


Now on to the Thursday Quiz. Since I'm still reading Trainspotting and really enjoying it (despite being totally grossed out at the part where Kelly gets back at the lecherous restaurant patrons by infecting their food with all sorts of bodily fluids...or the part where Matty gets toxoplasmosis (and thus dies from AIDS) from not cleaning out his cat's litter box for months....or when Spud gets, uh, all sorts of bodily fluids all over his girlfriend's parents' kitchen walls....come to think of it, this book is a little obessed with vomit, shit, etc). Annnnywaaay, it's good and I'm sure most everyone has seen the movie, heard the soundtrack and bought the t-shirt.

It's time to play:

(Click on image)

I am:


Oooh Sassy! That's better than being "action packed with common sense." Well, people do say I look underage, but I was hoping I'd be Sick Boy. Johnny Lee Miller is hot even if he was married to Angelina Jolie.

A Series of Fantastic Costumes

Last night I took my little sister to see Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events (take a look at the website; it's pretty damn cool). She wanted to see Are We There Yet?, but as much as I like Ice Cube, I didn't think I could sit though that "movie."

If not for the plot, which is quite entertaining for a kid's movie, I highly recommend Lemony Snicket for the top-notch visuals. The set design is incredible in a Tim Burtonesque way where location and time are secondary to atmosphere. What really got me were the costumes. They were over the top in a sort of demented Edwardian way, full of texture, washed out color and rows and rows of buttons and buckles. Oscar-winning costume designer Colleen Atwood (Chicago, Big Fish, Sleepy Hollow, Edward Scissorhands) is the best around in my opinion.

Take a look:


I covet this coat Violet (older girl, duh....like I want to wear baby clothes) is sporting:





Speaking of Tim Burton, I saw a trailer for the remake of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and I haven't been looking forward to a movie this much in forever. I've always thought Johnny Depp was a great actor, but I've never really fully been on board the "he's the hottest thing alive" love train. But after seeing the trailer, I have to admit he's damn sexy (does the man age? ever???). Maybe I should be a little worried that he does indeed resemble 'Vogue' edtrix Anna Wintour in costume (via Gawker):

Johnny:


Anna:

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

The Spaztic Sex

I was watching an episode of Sex and the City last night and a thought occured to me....

Why are the women always considered the unstable spazzes in relationships? I couldn't stop thinking about how psychotic the characters on that show are. They are obsessive! (The show was addressing this through the relationship of Carrie and Big, but all the female characters are like that from what I've watched so far).

In my relationship with Matt, it's a well documented fact that I am the spaz and he is the pulled together one. Sometimes I actually feel guilty for taking up all the emotional "space" between the two of us. So tell me: are women programmed to be this way and men taught to restrain everything and let others have visible anxiety attacks? I already know the answer.

To Tell or Not To Tell

Seeking Advice:

Picture this... a friend wants to tell a longtime crush that she is head over heels for him. The problem: he just got engaged. The fiance is not that great; apparently she pressured him into the engagement and he seems to be totally unexcited about it. So, said friend thinks that it is ok to confess her love because he does not seem to want to get married. She says that if he was happy about the nuptuals, she wouldn't say anything. He won't say that he does or does not want to get married, but he seems pretty uninterested. Other big hint: he didn't propose with a ring because he couldn't find one that was ON SALE.

The dilemma: tell him and face the possible and highly probable shit that will hit the fan, or live with the regret of never sharing your true feelings?

I can't decide. I'm leaning towards a lifetime of self-torture....because engagement is hopefully a pretty serious thing, ring or no ring.

I Dream of Babies


Congratulations on all of your newborns, ladies. I had this really vivid dream last night that Jennie, Alison, Boots and I all had some babies...the rest of you lucky gals got off scot-free. Lately whenever I hear of someone getting all pregnant or see a movie about kids (we watched The Forgotten last night), I have some dream/nightmare that I'm either pregnant or have a baby. Last night's was particularly vivid, to the point where I woke up kind of afraid to take my birth control pill and harm the baby! I got over it. Anyway, the plot was, Shannon had gotten pregnant and was due this summer, but then Jennie, Alison, and I all gave birth within the span of a couple days and stole her thunder. None of us knew we were pregnant...so watch out. But we were pretty jazzed to all have babies the same age so they could play together. Mike, you were in the dream too, as a fine, attentive father...good work!

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