A post about nothing...

I'm aware, I suck.  However, the blame for my lackluster blogging can be squarely laid on my unborn child.  Apparently pregnancy shrinks your brain by 6-8% depending on which website you read.  See!  It's not just me forgetting things, it's a medical condition.

PS: I want to smack the people who told me this was fun.  It's not fun. It sucks.  Not only am I fat now, but apparently becoming more stupid as the days go by.

My lack of creativity means all I can manage is a pile of random crap.  Sorry, that's just how it goes.

I like to watch TV while I eat breakfast.  Before I was "in the family way", I would alternate between news programs.  I have now discovered that reruns of Saved by the Bell are on.  I prefer to watch this.  I think it's an appropriate amount of entertainment for my smaller brain. (You can't really expect me to consume and retain all the fancy informations on BBC World News?)

Speaking of Saved by the Bell...Mark-Paul Gosselaar. New series this fall.  Seriously, I can't be expected to not watch courtroom dramas.  In fact, there are quite a few garbage series this fall that yours truly will be adding to the DVR.  Hello? Christian Slater playing a psychotic - love it. It's sort of like a schizophrenic Dexter.  And a shameful admission - Debra Messing in the Starter Wife series.  Yes, I watched the mini series - shut up.

To take a step lower (and you thought it wasn't possible), I actually went out to YouTube to listen to Miley Cyrus music.  How on earth did I end up at that point you ask?  It all started innocently enough.  I was reading a blog by this psychiatrist who was all worked up over Katy Perry and I thought to myself - "who the hell is Katy Perry?".  (I also thought "Oh dear god, I'm getting old. Why don't I know about this person??")  I read, I listened and I purchased on iTunes. What can I say, it's a catchy little tune.  I still can't understand why everyone is worked up over this chick - didn't Jill Sobule sing about being bi-curious in the 90's?  

Then I started following links to other crap and I ended up wondering what Miley Cyrus actually sounded like. I've heard her speak and she sounds like she lives under a rock somewhere in the deep south. I had high hopes for her music.  (As I mentioned, I am capable of deep thought these days) As it turns out, she kinds of sounds like a man and not in a good way.  If you dare - it may make your ears bleed.

Then I noticed that that the crappy trio known as the Jonas Brothers are the #1 song on iTunes.  Who is out there buying this crap? 12 year olds?  Do they have credit cards? 

I have to go clean my house now.  Thankfully my boss gave me a half day the other day so I'm halfway there.  It's curious, my best hours are between 9-5 these days.  That doesn't bode well for my domestic duties.  So the house is a bon-a-fide disaster and I can't seem to give a crap.  Lucky for me the other half wouldn't notice if he was standing in 3 feet of garbage anyway.  

I Think My Kid May Be Mean

I've been trying not to be an alarmist about this whole pregnancy thing so I haven't called my OB's emergency line yet.  Yesterday I caved and called because I was having these weird pains. Now I know weird pains come with the territory, but these were new weird pains and they sort of hurt so I thought perhaps that was bad.  My husband told of course told me all the bad things it could be and ended with, "It's probably none of those but you should call Dave anyway".

So Dave called me back.

Dave: So all those things I told you that would happen are happening huh?

Me: I don't think you ever mentioned this one.

Dave: What's going on?

Me: I feel like someone is stabbing me in the cervix.

Dave: Yea, that's your baby.

Me: Oh

I can tell this is going to be fun already.

One Crazy Old White Dude and some Big Ass Turbines

I love it when strange things happen.  Maybe I only think strange things are happening and there's really some ulterior motive behind it all.  Anyway I'm cracking up about this nutty old man T. Boone Pickens.  As you may know he's old, rich, white, Republican and really into wind power and natural gas.  So much so that you may have seen his latest commercials on the "Pickens Plan".  I would love to hail this as an example of  innovation coming from the private sector. Finally capitalism finds a way to make money on something that is also environmentally friendly.  However because this guy is old, rich, white and Republican I have to also assume he's a wackadoo.  I mean c'mon, he supported George W through multiple elections - he can't be that smart.

I guess we wait and see.  

I would also like to offer a big thanks to Chicago for making Philly look safe.  That is one hellacious place to live right now.  They've had a child shot almost every day since the end of June. At least in Philly we just shoot adults.  This may also explain why our Governor isn't bringing in National Guard helicopters just yet.  

Their Governor is on a tear.  Not only is he turning Chicago into a police state (which btw, I'm a big fan of) he also passed a gun law that holds adults who give guns to minors to the same prosecution as the minor. That kid kills someone, you're going away for 25-life too.  Awesome. Within reason, guns aren't really the problem, it's the idiots handling the guns.  Perhaps increased penalty will encourage responsibility.

Then there's Mayor Nutter.  He signed five laws into effect back in April with the support of no one (except of course the city residents themselves  but who cares about us) and took a ton of flack for it. You gotta love a guy with a rhyming slogan - "If you're missing your piece, call the Police".  Catchy. What's even funnier was his response to those who criticized his defiance of state law.   

"If we all sat around bemoaning what the law was on a regular basis I'd probably still be picking cotton somewhere as opposed to being mayor of the city of Philadelphia."

Amen Nutter.  

The larger problem is Pennsylvania.  Why can't Pennsylvania be a real Blue State instead of a place that just masquerades as a Blue State when it's really just two big blue cities with a whole lotta hick between?  Damn those fools in Pennsyl-tucky who marry their cousins and have three teeth. Couldn't they have moved just a bit further West or South?   

Heartburn & Burn Notice - Very Bad & Very Good

My original hypothesis was that when I felt better I would feel like writing.  This hasn't quite happened.  Perhaps there's not enough alcohol in my life anymore. Perhaps I'm asleep too many hours a night to experience anything to complain about - it's really hard to complain about getting 10 hours of sleep a night.  I don't know what it is, but I do know that I am frighteningly boring.

I think I blame the really delightful heartburn. I have never before experienced anything like the pain of this heartburn.  It sort of feels like there's a burning in my chest that will soon make my head explode. After sucking down a bottle of Zantac I have found that controlled deep breathing helps.  So I sat down on the bed and started breathing.  My husband took one look at me and said, "Who are you, Fiona? (our friend's cat) It reminds me of what she does right before she pukes."

Thanks honey. That's special.

It sort of looks like this.

I'm also really snotty. According to the books people have given me, I may soon start hacking and choking on the snot in my sleep.  (My husband told me that I can go sleep in the other room when that happens. He's so compassionate.)

There's also the issue of problems to come.  Someone gave me a book about breastfeeding.  It has pictures. It is totally creepy.  Lots of huge saggy boobs with baby heads near them. Big nipples, up close...really close and all the pictures look like they're from the 70's.  I am now officially scared.

And of course, I've also been charmed by the stories from my co-workers.  One of them described the first few months of their child's life as "slug mode".  He said it's not that fun. Great.

On the up side, a new season of Burn Notice started.  That guy is hot.  I suspect this show might be stupid but I don't care...he's pretty.

Little People Turn You into Large Farm Animals

While my nausea seems to be subsiding, my kind husband compared me to a horse today.  Not because I am large like a horse or because I pee like a horse (although perhaps both are true) but because I have an obsession with salt.  I can't get enough salt. I do not care what he says, I do not hear him...la, la, la. la, la, la.

Hugging at Work is Weird

I had an incredibly awkward moment at work today.  It involved "the work hug".  I was so disturbed that I obsessed about it for hours after the fact.  In the hopes of educating others, and spare others the trauma, I have included some Q&A below to elaborate on the ground rules.

Q: What is your attitude toward hugging in general?

A: By nature I am not a hugger - I do not hug random people - I value my personal space.

Q: So, when do you think hugging at work is ok?

A:  Hugging at work is reserved for very specific situations that fall within the following guidelines: The hugger and I worked together at one point in time, I don't hate them and enough time has elapsed since we last saw each other that it's not creepy and weird and all....huggy. 

Q: Are there any other circumstances that would allow for hugging at work?

A: Yes - The hugger and I work/worked together, I don't hate them and something hug worthy happened in their life (baby on the way, engagement, significant lottery win, etc).

Q: So what constitutes an awkward work hug?

A: I offer the following example from today - One minute I was having a conversation with a guy that I know but don't really work with often.  We went to part ways after an agreeable conversation and the awkward moment happened. We somehow managed to get too close in physical proximity which would make a hand shake uncomfortable and inconvenient. He extended a hand, I accepted and then he faked me out with the half hug with the other arm. Thus an awkward embrace after which I half walked, half ran out of his office.  I felt slightly better when I found out another co-worker had an awkward hug with this person that ended even worse - they actually managed to hurt one another by knocking their heads together.  

Q: So if someone tries to hug you and you don't want to hug them, how do you handle it?

A: There isn't a good way to handle it so suck it up, hug them and then steer clear in the future.  However, I can provide an illustrative example of how not to handle it based on a co-worker's unfortunate experience.  She was in a huggy, huggy environment (she is not a huggy hugger) and so she was forced to hug people and when she leaned in to greet a particular co-worker with a hug he jumped away like she was some kind of leper.  He then told her that he doesn't hug at work because that behavior it's not advised by HR.  She was mortified. I was mortified hearing the story.  This is why you should never be the hug initiator unless the hug recipient is a sure thing and a hug is appropriate under the "work hug" guidelines.

If you're not sure if a hug is appropriate, it probably means you're a creepy weird hugger and you should cease and desist while in the office.  Yes, people do find you to be a violator of personal space and that is why they don't invite you to lunch or happy hour.  

Feed Me, or I Will Hurt You

I will start by saying that there's a special place in hell for people who lie to hungry pregnant women.

The last 8 weeks of my life have gone something like this. I feel nauseated, I eat & feel better, I then feel nauseated again. I am essentially like a rat in a maze desperately looking for my next snack. I have no shame at work, I will stuff my face with pretzels in front of anyone. At home a piece of cheese is only steps away. The hard part is traveling. I have taken to carrying a plethora of snacks in my bag. Pretzels, dried apricots, mini Cliff bars, hard candies, apples, yogurt, basically anything that will fit in my bag and my mouth.

In the last week or two it's morphed into more of an eat or you will become horribly nauseated. This is a vast improvement over my previous situation however it has escalated my need to eat since I know what's coming. I now become angry and violent if I do not get food, immediately.

Last weekend I was on my way to my sister's house with my mother and sensing the onslaught I said "Oh, I need to eat something." to which my mother responded, "I'm sure your sister will have food". I did not believe her and so I called my sister and said, "Do you have something for me to eat or should I stop on the way to your house?". She assured me she had food.

We got there and she had nothing. Then she admitted she lied. Who does that?

The following weekend my sister had a housewarming party. The house was literally packed to the gills with food. I say to my mother on the way there (since we had to arrive 3 hours early), "Oh, I need to eat something." to which she typically tried to tell me that my sister will have something for me.

See, this is where the similarities between me and the rat end. I knew they were lying to me. So when we got there and there was no food because no one had picked anything up yet, I was not surprised. I stole a car and found the nearest fast food place and ate glorious french fries. Carbs are super awesome, especially when they're greasy and covered in salty goodness.

Later my mother told my husband that she thinks the reason why I don't feel well is because I'm not eating well. Fortunately I have a very wise husband who defended his crazy pregnant wife and told his mother-in-law that, in fact, she is eating quite well and that is not the cause of her not feeling well.

This is a strange, new and rather unpleasant phenomena in my life - my mother has turned into an expert. She has informed me that her pregnancies (30+ years ago) were wonderful and therefore there must be something wrong with me that I don't feel like dancing around in a mumu relishing in my pregnant beauty. Oh, and apparently because I am miserable this is the equivalent of "being mean to her grandchild" and I need to cut it out because the kid can sense it.

You know what I think? Not driving me to get a sandwich and giving me crap about it is much meaner.

Ah, College Memories...

Gawker did a thing on the top 50 eccentrics in NYC and I feel compelled to tell you about my own experience. There's a small difference, I believe many of the people on the NYC list actually do this because they make money. Most of my experiences are with people who are just straight up homeless and smelly.

Having grown up in the burbs, my homeless experiences were fairly limited until I went to college. My first encounter didn't go so well. A guy outside the 7-11 told me he was trying to get together $.50 for a hot dog. I was smart enough not to give him the money, but I thought I would go buy him the hot dog. Needless to say he kept asking people for $.50 for a hot dog. Something tells me he wasn't really trying to get a hot dog. Later we learned he was a fixture of that particular 7-11 and on any given day he was begging for change to actually pay one bill or another. So people would ask him, "so what are you working on today?" and he would reply, "cable". And such is life. This guy was fairly uninteresting in comparison.

"Will Work for Food" Lady

I haven't seen her in a long time but in the mid to late nineties she stood every day near 30th Street Station. She was a thin, middle aged, white lady with ratty blonde-ish hair. She always looked overly dirty and disheveled and had a small cardboard sign that said "Homeless & Hungry, Will Work for Food". She didn't say anything, she just stood there with the most painful look on her face you have ever experienced and watched cars drive by her.

At the time I was in college and a friend of mine worked in some sort of bakery/restaurant and she would bring home all the left over bagels at the end of the day. As she was driving by the WW4F Lady she thought she would give her the bag of bagels. She stopped, rolled down the window and offered her the bag. At this point WW4F Lady responded with something like, "I don't want your f*ing bagels, I want money bitch".

I knew those new fancy sneakers she always wore were some kind of clue...

Look Left Bob

Or as some people knew him, "Lefty". He wandered the streets in West Philly, mostly Lancaster Avenue in the 30's. He was called Lefty because his neck was permanently cemented in a left looking position. Who knows why but he was always looking left. He was a generally happy guy, always smiling and never really a problem...unless you were walking behind him. Apparently Bob didn't buy new pants and he also didn't own any underwear. If you were unlucky enough to be walking behind him you got an up close and personal view of Bob's Boys swinging around in all their glory.

Scary Homeless Kids with Animals

At some point very dirty looking teenagers with dogs would show up around campus begging for money. This was clearly a new angle - appeal to the animal lovers. There were stories of these grungy kids beating people up and taking their money. There were also stories of their dogs being trained to attack people. Who knows how much of that is true but I tended to avoid the scary people with the Rottweiler - you never can tell how hungry that dog is...

The Angry White Bum

I love it when you have what I like to call "The Homeless Trifecta" and this guy had it. To meet the criteria you have to be Homeless, Crazy and..this is the important part...have some sort of shtick. Something that was uniquely yours that everyone could look forward to and expect. The name sort of says it all but it's important to note that he didn't start off angry, he just immediately escalated from zero to crazy in about .4 seconds.

Basically all his interactions went something like this...

Example 1: Me, standing on campus smoking a cigarette.

AWB: Hey Honey, can I get a cigarette?

Me: I'm sorry, I bummed this from someone else (this could be a true or untrue statement)

AWB: F-You bitch!

Example 2: Me, standing on the porch of a house drinking a beer.

AWB: Hey Honey, can I have some of that beer you're drinking?

Me: Umm, sorry, I'm drinking this beer.

AWB: F-You bitch!

This was his standard reaction to all people & all situations. This is why he also got the nickname "The F-You Bum". Anyway so years passed and post college some of my girlfriends and I went on an ill fated trip to NYC. 50 ft. from the Holland Tunnel we broke down and eventually ended up taking the train back to Philly. As we sat in the McDonalds lamenting our lame weekend I saw none other than The Angry White Bum approaching our table. These were not college friends which would explain why they were tremendously confused by the following exchange...

Example 3: AWB approaches table with a limp and a cane (new additions to his usual ensemble)

AWB: Hey ladies, can you spare some change so I can get something to eat.

Me: Hey, the cane is a nice touch. I seem to recall you didn't have that before.

AWB: F-You bitch!

You can imagine my friends were a little disturbed as the McDonald's personnel removed the AWB from the premises.

A few years after that I heard one of the fraternities on campus shot him with an air rifle, penetrating his chest and missing his heart by a few centimeters. The funny part of that whole story is that the fraternity got kicked off campus and the AWB is still around. Should have just given him a beer and a smoke, would have been easier...

People complain about the pan handlers in the city, I think they add a certain flavor. I mean where else can you see the same one legged guy begging for change in all seasons every single day of the year? Next time you run into the "I'm going to my HIV meeting" guy or the "I just got out of the hospital and my car got towed" guy, appreciate the creativity and determination it takes to deliver that same tired story over and over again.

Pleasant & Unpleasant

For the last few months of my life I have become acutely aware of what is pleasant and what is unpleasant. I think we've told most of our friends and family that we're expecting (and more specifically I'm expecting because after all this is about me and I'm the poor schmo who has to go through this decidedly unpleasant experience). So if I haven't told you, don't feel unloved, it's really just because I am no longer functioning like a normal human being.

I digress.

So my absence as of late has been because I am physically unable to stay awake past 7PM. I also feel like poop on a stick. These two things in combination do not get the creative juices flowing. Something had to give. Actually many things, but we'll get to that in a moment.

So anyway, here are a few observations.

Unpleasant: After returning from vacation I went to put on a suit to go to work and discovered that my hips had spread. Something I didn't notice until nothing fit. I tried on every damn suit in the closet until I finally tried the fattest suit I own and found it barely fit. I looked decidedly inappropriate.

Pleasant: Due to suit situation above, I was forced into the maternity store early. I had two choices, buy bigger clothes or buy maternity. As much as I really hate the idea of maternity it seemed far more practical (and economical). Many, many maternity clothes make you look like a frickin cupcake, but on the upside they are the most comfortable things I have ever put on. Stretchy waistbands, flowy tops, I never knew it could be so good. No wonder those old ladies wear expandable "slacks".

Unpleasant: The constant feeling that I'm going to upchuck. I almost think that if I did puke I might feel better, but I just don't think it's in the cards. The only thing that keeps me somewhat non-nauseated is constantly eating. Sounds good right? Not really because I only feel good for about 10 minutes and then it's back to puke-town.

Pleasant: No matter how much I eat those stretchy pants will still fit.

Unpleasant: People at work think you're gaining weight. You're not positive that's what they're thinking because it's not like they're going to come out and tell you but you're relatively certain the way they do a double take when they see you coming. Although it could be a reaction to my change in dress. I'm not exactly the bohemian peasant top type of gal.

Pleasant: My hair seems thicker although that could be a figment of my imagination or my desire to derive some positive benefit from this whole experience.

Unpleasant: All the waiting at the doctor's office, consent forms, reading about things that might happen, figuring out how to fit a 3rd person into 1100 square feet, the weird smell that I smell when I walk into my house (what the hell is that??), the fact that I can't eat fish (both because of mercury and because it now makes me want to puke) and finally the fact that my house is a mess and my husband doesn't notice.

Pleasant: I have now justified, to myself, the need for a cleaning lady and I have started calling around to find one. Joy of all joy I will never mop another floor or clean a tub.

I think I'll end on a high note here. And in the event you were wondering, I am not part of the Gloucester County pregnancy pact. I just want to clear that up right now.

I'm thinking I need a tracksuit and a side ponytail...

While in London on vacation I learned two new words that I would like to share with everyone.

The first is quite nice - chav. As far as I can tell, the closest descriptor we have on the other side of the pond is wigger. Not nice, but it seems to fit. The only possible discrepancy is the fondness for Burberry plaid that the chavs seem to have. Apparently they are so offensive that Burberry stopped making certain items with the plaid that they favored. When you are so nasty that a major label stops producing something just so you can't drag down their good name, that say influence...and not in a good way.

Then there's slag. This is apparently a unisex insult as well as a noun and a verb. You can be a slag (closest American translation is roughly skank - which I would like to add is one of my personal favorites - it says so much in five letters) or you can slag someone off (which is to insult them but not in a serious way).

Examples of both were plentiful in my friend's neighborhood in southeast London. She compared it to South Philly, her husband compared it to the NorthEast. The prevalence of tracksuits and bad hair made it a toss up in my opinion.

A few other points of note should you wish to visit London soon: You really do get black boogers unless you stay off the Tube. The Tube is massively uncomfortable in any amount of heat or humidity. The bus is nasty and forces you to touch things that people have touched before (probably with unwashed poo dirt hands).

So take some wipes and a few good packs of tissues if you want to check out the chavs and slags.