July 27, 2006
Pop Crush
I know that summertime isn't exactly known for giving us great new television, but I have a new guilty pleasure: The World Series of Pop Culture. I still can't figure out why I'm willing to watch the same episodes repeatedly -- it's like watching people play the same game of Trivial Pursuit over and over again with the same result. Of course, I have picked my favorite teams -- I was rooting for the ladies of I Heart Jake Ryan (they remind me of my friends in college) and was really glad when the incredibly annoying Cheetara was booted off. I was also rooting for PDX 503 and Almost Perfect Strangers (were they great or what?) Yeah, I'm sure that's it. I've just been sucked in by the competition and the charming personalities of the competing teams.
I'm sure it has nothing to do with my crush on the adorable host Pat Kiernan. I know I'm pregnant and practicing law and all that jazz, but seriously, why have I not seen him before? Smart, cute, funny, sarcastic -- heck, I'd even watch him if he read the news. Oh wait, he does.
Posted by Kitty at 07:13 PM | Comments (1)
July 19, 2006
Tips
Seeing as how I've been so far behind in preparing for most of my pregnancy (you know, the parts that have already passed), I decided to do a little planning ahead for labor and delivery. Not much, mind you, but I thought I'd read about it. When you talk to actual women who have been through this process, they all have different stories, so it's hard to know exactly what to expect.
To that end, I cruised over to the Mayo Clinic's site and checked out what they had to say. They seem to have a decent grasp on medicine these days (which I would know, since I'm obviously the expert. I may not have an M.D. but I feel like an expert on medicine, having logged so much time in medical facilities lately).
I found this article on labor, and the signs to look for if you want to know if you're actually in it. After feeling all of the flipping and flopping going around in my stomach these past few weeks, I can see how you might not know if it was time to head to the hospital or not. However, I don't know how helpful the article really is.
I love the following quote:
"You might wake up one morning feeling energetic, raring to attack dust bunnies under the couch, set up the crib and arrange your baby's outfits according to color. This urge to clean and organize is commonly known as nesting."
It's also known as dementia. There must be an entry somewhere in the DSM IV that covers this type of behavior. Have I felt like cleaning more since I've become pregnant? Yes. Is that because I'm pregnant? No, it's because we're slobs and I can't stand looking at the funk ANY MORE. Should I get the urge to clean any more than I normally do, I don't think it's a sign I'm about to go into a labor. It's a sign our apartment is about to be condemned.
Let's move on, shall we?
"If your water breaks at home . . . consult your doctor right away. . . In the meantime, don't do anything that could introduce bacteria into your vagina. Sex is not a good idea."
This was written by a man. If you don't believe me, take a poll. Pick up the phone and ask any woman who has previously given birth (at least, any woman who won't slap you for asking these questions) whether she was dying to get it on right after her water broke. If you find someone who says they're they one, let me know, because I want to meet the woman who realizes, "Wow, the amniotic sac in my body which is holding my baby in place has just broken. I think, rather than running to the hospital, I'll get naked and do the very thing that got me pregnant in the first place."
Advice like this really makes me wonder about the Mayo Clinic.
Posted by Kitty at 07:32 PM | Comments (6)
July 12, 2006
America's Got Something
I'm sitting here watching America's Got Talent. Can someone explain this show to me?
I feel like I missed something. I watched the first episodes where all sorts of freaks auditioned, and the auditions all seemed to boil down to some variation on the following theme:
Freak takes the stage. Judges say, "Hello Freak. What will you be doing tonight?"
And the freak says, "Hi, I'm Fluffy VonBeaverhausen and I'm going to sing/dance/juggle/do acrobatics/do a ventriloquist act/complete a 1040EZ form to music along with these handy dandy plates/balls/bowls/billy goats/bedazzled waffle irons. Okay?"
And the judges always say, "Okay."
Most of these acts look cool, but they're obviously one trick ponies. So, after they finish, the judges ask them, "Well, that was good, but can you ditch the ponies and do something else?"
And they always respond, "Oh, yes! I don't need these stinkin' ponies. I can do my act with penguins/stuffed animals/rolled up newspapers/ill tempered house cats." And they advance to the semi-final round.
Which bring us to tonight, when said freaks get back on the stage with the same farm animals and a slightly different costume and do a variation of what they did the first time. And the judges say, "Well, before it was good with the goats, but now the goats are boring. Why are the goats boring? Why? Those goats aren't worth $1 million! Take your goats and go home."
Now, chances are, if you saw goat-boy and his progeny in round one, you could tell that the "artists" had little more talent than the goats. So, the chances that they're going to be able to do something other than what they did the first time are slim. Hell, the chances that they could repeat what they did the first time aren't great, either. But never mind that. The judges drag these ding-dongs back onstage and then tell them that they can't get $1 million because they aren't......
And this is where I get lost. I don't know what these people are supposed to be. And how are the judges supposed to compare the 10 year old yodeler who learned how to yodel by sending off for the how-to kit from the back of the Swiss Miss container with the juggler who tosses around livestock?
I don't get it, and something tells me the judges don't get it either.
And don't even get me started on David Hasselhoff.
Posted by Kitty at 07:54 PM | Comments (2)
July 10, 2006
Marriage
Just in case you're wondering what it's like to be married to Archi-Sapper, the following story is illustrative:
On Saturday, we went to a party for his company's 30th anniversary. It was downtown, and we booked a room at a nearby hotel where his company had pre-arranged discounted rooms for their employees. After the party ended (we closed it down, of course. We can never be the people who go home early. We're the people who get kicked out while the cleaning crew starts to sweep up around us) we headed back to the hotel. After shutting down their bar, everyone decided to head out to a bar next door that stayed open past midnight (seriously, this hotel has the only bar in New Orleans I know of that closes at midnight and still manages to have any business).
Since I'm now seven months pregnant and was drinking Cokes all evening, I saw no need to join them. Archi-Sapper went out for one more drink and returned about an hour later. When we woke up in the morning, I asked,
"So, did anything fun happen last night at the bar?"
He said, "Yeah, actually. K proposed to his girlfriend."
I was surprised, as I had thought K and his girlfriend were already married. I said, "I thought they were married."
He replied, "I thought so too, which was why, when K got on one knee to propose, I did, too."
"Really?" I asked.
"Yeah," he said.
"Well, what did she say?" I asked.
He said, "She said yes to him but no to me. Something about me being already spoken for."
Some women are soooo picky.
Ultimately, we had a great time. I miraculously found a dress that fit, Archi-Sapper looked great (which was excellent timing, what with his marriage proposal and all) and I got to eat a lot, which always makes me happy.
Tip of the day for those who hang out with the pregnant: watch your hands. Now that I'm showing, everyone wants to touch my stomach, which is fine. Although I'm normally not a touchy-feely person, I can make an exception for pregnancy-related belly rubbing. But there's a line. A friend who is also pregnant right now accidentally had someone recently grab her boob instead of her stomach (yes, I do think it was an accident). While that hasn't happened to me, with my newly protruding navel, I'm more sensitive when people brush up against it, particularly with their fingernails. It doesn't hurt, it just feels weird. By the time Saturday evening was over, I was ready to put a sign over my stomach that said, "Go for the sides"
Posted by Kitty at 08:43 PM | Comments (2)