I hope I didn't scare ya too badly. Or at least not put you off your lunch. In Nancy's case, if I did, I'm just helping her make some money. Post *that* on your fridge for inspiration!

Like I said, I'm proud of that belly!

I have been reading other people's blogs about pregancy. I need to see if there are any out there from expecting fathers. Duh! I need to read Lileks' blog before Gnat was born.

Ahyhow, humans have spent soooo much time having children since we got out of the hominid stage; why is this process such a huge cause for hardcore opinions and conniption fits? You think we would have it down to an artform. My stupid little opinionated theory is because since the hominid stage we have such big heads that we just aren't completely evolved enough to handle birthing easily. Hey, don't give me crap about that. Everybody has kneecaps and a spine, and don't tell me we couldn't use a little redesigning in those areas! Not to mention wisdom teeth and appendixes.

So having a kid hurts; having a kid wreaks havoc on any woman's body no matter how young, healthy, and fit she is. So I'm not going to get all hot and bothered by any woman who wants to circumnavigate 'natural' childbirth. Our huge noggins, while being a source of woman's discomfort, is also an evolutionary (or god-given, I'm not picky) plus in finding ways around long-term problems.

What I'm saying is that the fear, the sickness, the stress, and all that pain is natural in a normal, healthy pregnancy. I'm also saying that botulism is natural but I don't necessarily want that, either. I read one woman pillory other women who want to induce labor or get an elective caesarian. I won't go that far - I'll only get a caesarian if the doc thinks it's necessary. But I sure as *hell* am going to get an epidural if at all possible! But I'm not going to get all self-righteous towards those women. There are consequences to our actions and we will pay for them.

And I have pretty much decided on bottle feeding. I am going to go back to work; Jon will be taking care of junior in the day during the week so we need to go ahead and tag-team. I want what's best for the child but everything is a series of compromises. If I took no other factors into account, the best thing for the kid would be for me to quit my job and for Jon to quit the drop zone and to get a full-time engineering job so I could stay at home and take care of the child full time. Be real; that's not going to happen and ultimately I think both of us would be misearable. In the long run I'm thinking Mini-Jon would grow up happier this way; with a father who is more involved in his life. Hell, it's working for Lileks. We shall see.

Am I rambling today! More rambles: went to Dr. Krishna's for a follow- up. I was doing fine until Thursday and that concerned him: I have no signs or symptoms of a respitory infection of any sort despite all the congestion. Every thing I hack up is white; I have no redness or swelling in my sinuses, ears or throat. He suspects my lapse back on Thursday was because I am no longer using Prednisone - an oral steroid (or corticosteroid) which was prescribed to me by the emergency room doctor to kick-start the inhaled corticosteroid I'm taking for athsma - Pulmicort. He gave me a small prescription for more Prednisone basically to keep me breathing to give the Pulmicort more time to be effective. Corticosteroids are produced by the body to reduce inflammation, by the way.

I started today okay - then went on a coughing binge (which induced a round of puking. BLAH!) just before work along with an athsma bout; but right now I'm doing fine. I slept on the couch so I could sleep with my head propped up and I slept well. Jon is really concerned about me and the baby and wants to go with me the next time I see the doc (Tuesday).

Photo day: 2 Cats and a Belly:

Kitty! 

Kitty! 

Belly! (Told you it was scary) 

Allrighty then. I woke up about 2pm and my athsma was worse. Not as bad as last Thursday but still I'm sucking wind so to speak. I have an appointment w/ Dr. Krishna this evening anyway.

I left the house at my normal time to go to work, got into a hacking fit, pissed myself, so I drove back home to change my clothes. Ah, the sweet mysteries, bliss, and euphoria of pregnancy! How icky.

While I changed, Jon googled for info on pregnancy and pants-wetting. After adjusting his search to weed out the umpteen-billion porn sites, he found this blog by a pregnant woman. She's in her 38th week of pregancy and about to pop (in more ways than one). Jon says he went looking for it because he wanted me to see that many pregnant women have this problem. Well, I *know* that and it was sweet of him to try to make me feel better.

Later on (once I changed and managed to make it to work without further mishap but I coughed so hard I puked this time; thank goodness I had had nothing to eat or drink yet so I basically puked up all that phlegm I had been coughing - am I making you sick? Sorry), Jon emailed me that he was a lucky man, because he read more of that woman's blog and he said "she is a raving lunatic, her husband must be scared to death". Bless his heart - I'm only at 18 weeks! We'll see how psycho I get 3 - 4 months from now, muahahaha!

The most fun blog I've read about pregnancy/baby stuff is one that Nancy links to: Dooce's blog is great. She has had her kid allready and she has posted a great deal about poop. Well worth perusing!

Anyways, like the little baby counter at the top of my blog? It was too handy/cute to pass up.

I took a picture of my belly, but some pictures are too scary to post.

I have 2 new links if you look. One is to the only political blog that I really like. He's slightly to the right, somewhat of a small l libertarian on many issues, and loves to post recipes and other non-political stuff. And he's a real blogger, in the sense that most of his voluminous entries are links to interesting stuff on the web.

The other is to my brother Ed's new blog. I'm making it a permanent link in the hope that I can shame him into keeping this one up.

Jon and I have decided to sell our house in Decatur. The last people who rented were decent and responsible; it was a single mom and her two children and she did her best to pay us but ultimately her hours were cut back and she couldn't make the rent. She moved out in December. She didn't stiff us and the place was intact.

We have been going insane trying to find new renters. Most are hispanic folks with very little english who want to pay us up front but aren't able to fill out the rent applications. It's not that they can't read the application it's that they don't have the references or credit history. Very frustrating. Every 2 out of 3 people ask us about section 8 housing; the other one tries to talk us down or bargain ("we'll pay you the deposit when we get our taxes back").

The last straw was the asshole kid who took a bb gun to our windows. I told Jon let's sell before some kids break in and use it as a crack house. Sorry, not feeling very compassionate today.

No test results yet. Perhaps early next week. Bleck.

Besides a routine checkup (including getting to listen to the baby's heartbeat), the ob/gyn visit was nothing to write about. I was hooked up with an athsma specialist who was conveniently a block and a half away. He has *the greatest* name of any doctor I have ever visited: Dr. Shiva Krishna. It's even better than my allergist, Dr. Loki Odin.

Anyway, nice doctor. He reviewed my athsma history with me, looked over what the emergency room docs had prescribed me, made some recommendations and I took a test to measure lung volume. Lets just say if it were a graded test I would have failed miserably. I'm going back Thursday to see how the meds are doing in controlling my athsma.

I will say I'm feeling well enough to exercise, even though I'm still somewhat congested. Jon and I used our new weight bench/cage; we didn't have to modify our routines much so we're happy for the most part. We're going to buy some dumbells and that should round out our workouts.

We had an uninvited guest in our fireplace last night. I was lounging on the couch, half out of it w/Big Fat Kitty lying on my legs when I heard screeching and scurrying. Jon came out of the computer room and we tried to figure out where the noise came from. Then we heard some more scuttling sounds.

We have a woodburning stove in our fireplace; Jon carefully opened one door and peeked inside. He hurriedly shut the door and said "there's something in there!"

I found a flashlight and we did some more peeking and finally figured out it was a squirrel. I went and got a pet taxi and Jon tried to coax it into the carrier. No dice, so Jon put on a pair of work gloves and a heavy coat and fished it out of the fireplace. Little bastard went postal and tried to bite Jon but we got him into the taxi.

He carried him outside and dumped him on the front lawn. The squirrel disappeared in a cloud of ash and ran up a neighbor's tree. Your welcome and good riddance, you flea-bitten rabid rat!

Big Fat Kitty, of course, carefully watched the proceedings from the top of a chair at the farthest corner of the living room.

Week 18
Wow. 2 more weeks and I'll be halfway there.

Today I'm going in for an ob/gyn checkup; I don't know if my amniocentesis results will be in but they should be. It's been 2 weeks. A friend lent me her copy of What to Expect the First Year which shall be my waiting room reading material of choice today. I have skimmed through some of it and this book seems to be on the side of "let baby do what he/she wants or you'll destroy his/her self-esteem". Granted, a new-born can't do much anyway but cry, eat, sleep, and poop. Holy mackarel, there's a lot of contradictory advice and vehement opinions out there on how to raise your child. I think I'll just give up and let the cats raise him.

I'm just thinking about all the kids I see run rampant in restaurants, theaters, and other public places. I just don't understand how disciplining a 1 to 2-year-old monster is going to ruin his self-esteem. The big question is *how* to discipline something that can't completely understand what you are doing. Yikes I have a lot of reading to do.

It's a damn shame I can't do to the kid what I do to Big Fat Kitty. When he gets caught in the bathroom destroying toilet tissue, I get a spray bottle w/water and hit him with a few squirts. Someday he's going to figure out that it's not acid but in the meantime this form of discipline also provides a few cruel laughs. It doesn't work on Vasquez, but she never does anything bad anyway.

Happy New Year!

The following is part of a modified email I sent Nancy. It pretty much covers the last little bit of 2004 that I wish to record for posterity or until the server crashes.

I had a bad scare Thursday. I felt okay in the morning, so I helped Jon assemble a weightlifting set (a christmas present). I got so winded I couldn't get my breath back. I tried for a long time to get control but about 9pm I asked Jon to drive me into Decatur to the emergency room. I described it to the emergency room doc as 'running a marathon then smoking an entire carton of cigarettes all at once'.

I received a bunch of treatments and was able to sleep well Thursday night. Yesterday I was okay as long as I took it easy. I irritated my bronchial passages so bad it has aggravated my coughing and any time I stand up and move around I start coughing bad. I can breathe though.

Let me tell about something else that happened Thursday night before I gave up and went to the emergency room: Jon had some friends over and one couple has an 18 month old toddler who has never really seen a cat up close.

Big Fat Kitty of course fled the scene, but when Vasquez saw the little girl (who was staring hard at her) she walked over, gave her that 'are you going to pet me or what?' look, and started nonchalantly cleaning her paws. I went over to Summer and explained that the cat wouldn't hurt her and showed her how to gently pet the kitty.

She gave kitty 2 tenuous pats, and Vasquez started purring and bumped her head against Summer's legs. The look of delighted astonishment on Summer's face was so sweet! This activity went on for about 10 minutes (pet-pet -- bump. pet-pet -- bump). It was fun to watch. Both Summer's mom and I were watching closely because Summer is rambunctious and I was afraid that if she did any tail pulling Vasquez might demonstrate that five of a cat's six ends are pointy. But they got along
great.

Vasquez is so old (going to be 20 this year) I'm afraid she won't be around when Mini-Jon arrives. That makes me sad. I couldn't have asked for a better kitty.

Friday I slept as much as I could, then I went to the drop zone about 4pm after picking up 100 chicken wings at Zaxby's for the annual DZ party. I did fine but occasionally I had to run to the bathroom because I was coughing so bad I was afraid I was going to piss myself. One other woman was there; a girlfiend of a jumper and we were coughing in stereo. Turns out she's pregant too! She's at 11 weeks. I hope her and her jumper can keep it together for the baby's sake.

Every new year's a group of jumpers jump at midnight and this year was no different. Despite predicted rain and cloudy skies the cieling was above 12,000 feet and broken and the moon came out just about jump time. I did my traditional thing; I met Jon in the landing area when he landed (him looking cool as always) and handed him a refreshing alcoholic beverage, we smooched, and I told him "Happy New Beer!" I also had a glass of champagne. Hey! Just one! Don't look at me like that!

Do I have any resolutions? A few: be as good to myself as possible for Mini-Jon's sake (and Jon's and mine), and to work hard on getting back into shape once the baby arrives. I have been blogging for more than a year; I hope to keep it up but make it more entertaining.

Oh! My latest review: Mystery Science Theater 3000 volume 6. I'm reviewing Troy next.

Jon mentioned that I ought to call the kid something while I'm writing about him. So I shall name him.... Mini-Jon.

Speaking of, here is what I hope my child inherits:

1)Jon's personality. The ebullient portions, at least.
2)Jon's extroversion.
3)Jon's ability to understand mechanical objects (not that I can't. He is just a lot faster than I).
4)Jon's health. I have *never* seen Jon sick.
5)Jon's looks.
6)Jon's abilities to sing and dance.
7)MY patience.
8)My love of books.
9)My love of cooking.
10)My love of movies, good, bad, and wierd.

Since I'm at home all week I don't really have an excuse for not posting. Just know I'm sitting here in my jammies sipping coffee.

I have just finished submitting my latest review. Links to follow.

In other what-I'm-watching news, Jon and I watched Collateral, a movie about a hitman (Tom Cruise) who hires a decent but underachieving taxi driver (Jamie Foxx) to drive him around town one night. Unfortunately for the driver he doesn't realize he's driving this psycho from hit to hit. I enjoyed it and it was nice to see Cruise play against type. Jamie Foxx did a great job at portraying an ordinairy joe who finds himself in a truly difficult circumstance. I was surprised to see that Michael Mann directed this movie. He tends to be all style and no substance but for the most part he let the story drive the movie for him.

We also watched Confessions of a Dangerous Mind which is Chuck Barris's somewhat psychotic biography. Chuck Barris was the creator of such shows as The Newlywed Game, The Dating Game, and the immortal Gong Show, which he also hosted. He was also, according to this movie, an assassin for the CIA. Yeah, okay. This movie was nowhere near as good as it could have been, predominantly because Barris is an immensely unlikable character. Sam Rockwell does a dead-on impression of this schmuck.

I watched an episode of a British TV series, "A Touch of Frost". Frost is a police detective; an older gentleman who is not well educated and very old school. The episode I watched, "Deep Waters", was so-so and not enough to make me watch this show again although I liked the Character of Frost. So why did I watch it? Damian Lewis in Speedos, enough said.

Okay, not enough said. It's been a while since I've droned on about my favorite redhead so feel free to bail now. The episode was about 90 minutes long and I was getting annoyed at about the 60 minute mark because he had been in the show for a grand total of 30 seconds. My patience was rewarded by a semi-lenghthy questioning session by Frost where Lewis gets to wear nothing but said Speedos. He's as pale as any redhead, and he has about 210 ribs. He defines lanky. He was being questioned about a college murder; later on Frost tails him one night and we finally see him completely dried off and I must say back then he had wonderfully long hair (this episode was shot in 1996, the year after I saw him in "Hamlet"). I think he looks better now. He's definitely a much better actor now. Still, it was worth it to me to rent. There's been such a Damian Drought I'm seriously contemplating watching Dreamcatcher again.

Okay, you can come back now. I won't spoil 24 for Nancy's sake, all I will say is certain plot lines were resolved and season 3 is better than season 2. Season 1 is still the best; I have good hopes for season 4 and I hope the producers will eventually realize that they can have a great story and not involve the end of the world each time (I loved how in Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel they both saved the world so many times they and their companions became completely blase about it).

Week 17

Hey! This means I'm entering Month 5. I'll be halfway there in about 3 weeks. I'm doing ok; my athsma is still aggravating and I'm getting plumper by the minute. In an odd way I'm proud of my expanding girth. I can't explain why but I look in the mirror and I think it's impressive.

I should be getting the amnio results either late this week or early next week. I have my monthly checkup January 3rd so that would be a nice coincidence if I could get the results then. Speaking of the amnio: since I got poked a week ago I'm going to assume I'm not going to have a miscarriage because of said poking. More bullets dodged.

I hope everyone had a good Christmas. Ours was fine; I got some new pots and pans (I wanted them), Return of the King Extended Edition on DVD, and some jammies. If I had known how comfortable jammies were I would have bought some for myself a long time ago. No Spider-man jammies, though.

It was great having Jon at home even though he got a bit bored. He's just one of those people who needs to be doing something every moment. I bought him one of those game controllers that has a bunch of old games in it, like Super Mario Brothers, Galaga, Pac-man, Arkanoid, etc. He's been enjoying it.

I cooked a big dinner: a veggie platter (Jon's not big on cooked vegetables; come to think of it neither am I), ham, stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy. Mmmmmm. Moose Tracks ice cream for dessert. Hey, did you know Campbell's makes a tasty gravy? Some would say blasphemy but I say if it tastes good don't worry about it coming out of a can. And the stuffing was Stove Top! Nyah nyah nyah! I do one thing with the stuffing mix; I dice about a half a cup of onions and celery each and saute them in a little olive oil and add that. Gives it a nicer flavor and a good crunch.

I have this entire week off for Christmas break at work. Woo-hoo! I intend to take it easy and bore myself silly. It will be the last time in a long time I'll be able to do this so this week is all about me!

Okay, I realize it's all about me all the time anyway. Bite me.

Adventures in Baby Birthing:

When I was called up for active duty, I was shipped off to Fort Riley, Kansas. I worked at the labor & delivery unit of the Irwin Army hospital. As a medical specialist, I was somewhere between a half-assed EMT and a beefed-up candy striper. Basically when a woman came in I got to hook her up to a machine that recorded the baby's heartbeats and I got to start IV's.

Now that was a lot of fun. First off, the gauge of the needle was honkin'. Second, nothing is as dehydrated AND swollen from fluids as a pregnant woman. YOU start an IV under those circumstances. I got pretty good at it, I'd like to add.

Occasionally I'd have to insert a catheter. But predominantly I was there to assist the RN's and whenever they showed up, the doctors. I saw many babies born, all with no pain medication whatsoever. Is child birthing magical? Sure, in the same way that volcanic eruptions are magical. Or like when rain starts falling up during a tornado is magical.

I'm not going to tell a lot of anecdotes. All I learned is:

1) If the doctor recommends caesarian, I'm not going to fight him. I'll probably give him a hug and a box of chocolates. Don't give me that crap about not feeling like a woman if I don't deliver 'naturally'! I will personally jam a watermelon up someone's convenient body orfice if he or she starts that with me.

2) If I deliver vaginally, I will take whatever pain medications I can. Hell, start me on the demerol now! I'm a wuss, I admit it. How the HELL did this planet end up with over 6 billion people on it?

3) My husband can be with me, but I don't want him to see what actually happens because I would actually like to have a physical relationship with him again after I recover. *I* don't want to see what's going on. No mirrors.

4) No damn cameras or video recorders will be allowed. If I had my way, the instant I go into labor the child would be teleported from my uterus into the doctor's waiting hands. I'll probably blog the experiences, but I really don't want them recorded for posterity. It might be good for blackmail should I need to coerce the kid into cleaning his room, but I've heard cattle prods are just as effective.

5) Placentas are icky. So is meconium and vernix. Jon can cut the cord but I hope he spends the rest of my time in the delivery room being distracted by our red, wrinkly, bundle o' joy.

6) The kid gets to stay in the nursery so I can get some rest. I'm sure he'll play hell with our sleeping patterns soon enough.

7) I don't want an episiostomy, on the other hand I don't want to tear. I'm doing all the recommended exercises faithfully. An epesiostomy, by the way, is deliberately cutting the perineum (that's the part that's between the hoo-hoo dilly and the bunghole; sorry I was getting tired of all these medical terms) so it won't tear.

I didn't completely understand, but a woman called me from UAB's genetics clinic with good news: one of the preliminary tests they did was for Down's Syndrome, and it was negative (98% accuracy). Great! I'll feel much better though when I hear the full report.

The Name Game has started, and Jon was browsing earlier this morning and came up with a few he liked. Here are the A - D contenders:

Alden (Middle, Old English) (antique, old, wise protector, old friend) Alden's kind of nice. Not sure what his nickname would be for this one. Maybe I'll be cruel and refer to him as "Mugwump", which was my dad's nickname for me.

Alder (Middle, Old English) (birch tree, revered one) Nah.

Anakin (American) (Warrior) Our kid would axe-murder us.

Archer (Teutonic) (the archer) I like, but we have a friend whose son is named Archer. *Heh*. Hey Alan should name his kid Archer.

Arron I like Aaron. I'm not big on common names spelled differently. It just makes it a pain in the butt when you're trying to get a driver's license. My middle name is "Linn" and I'm tired of people spelling it with a y.

Austin or Auston I like Austin, though the "yeah, baby yeah!" jokes will get old.

Ashton I told Jon that a popular actor's name was Ashton so it's not a good idea. On the other hand, his nickname would be Ash, and I think that's a groovy name! Email me if you don't know what the hell I'm talking about.

Brent (Old English) (fiery hill, steep hill) Meh.

Jonathan Yep, I like this one. Jonathan Edward Maynard. Like it a lot.

Connor (Celtic/Gaelic) (Much wanted) I like Connor, but it reminds me a lot of Angel's twerpy son. How about Spike?

Cullen (Celtic) (young animal, handsome) Meh.

Dalton (Old English) (valley farm) Double Meh.

Darwin (Old English) (beloved friend) Too much association with the Theory of Evolution. He'd never hear the end of the Darwinism jokes.

Dashiell (French) (Page Boy) Jon mentioned this one after seeing The Incredibles. I am all for naming our kid after a Pixar character. "Dash" is an amusing nickname, anyway. How about "Nemo"? "Buzz"? or "Woody"? Okay, maybe not the last one.

Allrighty then, here's a full write-up about yesterday:

The amniocentesis was done at the University of Alabama at Birmingham's Hugh Kaul Human Genetics Building. We arrived at the genetics clinic filled out a bunch of paperwork and watched a 15 minute video on the procedure - first we watched about 2 minutes in Spanish; the receptionist had forgotten to switch the tapes out. Then we met with a genetic counselor who told me 2 things that stuck out: one, the chances for having a baby with Down's Syndrome was strictly based on age and no other factors apply. In other words, my chances are a crapshoot. Or in geek terms, I see the big Dungeon Master of Life consulting his tables, then telling me to get out the percentile dice and roll above a 28. That scared me. The second thing she told me was the percent chance of me having a miscarriage due to the procedure was 1 in 400 - mainly because their staff was so experienced. That made me feel better.

Then a nice little old lady with an indistinguishable foreign accent put me on an exam table, poured warm goo on my belly, and started the ultrasound. She was pointing out arms, legs, etc. I'm still impressed she could tell which fuzzy dots were kidneys and such. The heart was the most distinguishable organ; when she paused the picture it looked like a fuzzy 4-leaf clover. She tried to get a peek at the sex but at the time the umbilical cord was between the kid's legs.

Then the doc came in and took over. He took some more measurements and looked around, then asked me if I wanted to know what the sex was. He fiddled around a bit until the kid's scrotum became obvious in the picture. Then they cleaned off my belly, swabbed it down with betadine, put some sterile goop on it, and then he hunted around by ultrasound for the best needle placement. I stared at the ceiling, both arms over my head, clutching one of Jon's hands with both of my own.

The doc chose a spot about an inch above my pubic hair line and then ouchie ouchie ouchie that needle kept going forever it felt like. Then he drew off 4 or 5 small tubes of amniotic fluid. I tried to keep still - I didn't want to flinch and make the doctor accidentally poke the kid's eye out.

Jon got a good look at the tubes and he remarked that it looked like urine. One of the assisting nurses explained that that's what it essentially is - except it's baby's piss and it's far more sterile than normal piss.

So then they cleaned me up, had me roll over on my side, and because my blood type is O negative, the nurse gave me a RhoGam shot in the butt. This shot essentially keeps me from rejecting my kid should he be positive and do a little bleeding. Jon's type is A positive so there's a good chance the kid's blood type is positive as well.

Once I got dressed, the nurse took some blood from my arm. I had my fill of needles yesterday.

But like I said, the doc said everything looked normal. That kid was also moving, kicking up a storm; he even hiccuped while we watched. I can't feel him move yet but he was dancing around yesterday.

After the appointment Jon and I met up with a friend who works at UAB and ate at a Thai place. Mmmmm! Made up for having my belly poked.

Speaking of, I'm feeling just a little sore. No cramping or anything; it just feels like a little of the soreness you might feel a day after doing sit-ups for the first time in a while.

Now all I can do is wait. I suspect my obgyn will get the results in 2 weeks.

My subconcious is naturally being mean-spirited. It granted my request last night in a manner. I ended up at a sushi restaurant arguing manners with Jackie Chan. Now if you were going to have a dream with Jackie Chan in it, wouldn't you expect him to kick a little ass? Nope, he didn't even kick any flesh-eating zombie ass.

Well, the amniocentesis is done. All I'd like to say is YEARGH!!!!!!

Which is about what you'd expect from having a needle poked into your belly. Anyways, it was way kewl seeing how developed the kid has gotten: hands, feet, nose, mouth, nutsack...

Yep. It's a boy!

The ultrasound, by the way, showed that everything looks completely normal. The amnio results will be in in about a week to 10 days. Jon and I have begun preliminary arguments on what his name will be.

Week 16

Today is big needle day. I haven't gone yet; Jon and I will be leaving for Birmingham in under 2 hours. I'll fill you in on that fun and games when it's all over.

As for how I'm feeling: Damn, that's a big fat ass! I'm starting to resemble one of those fertility idols. Except I have a face. I'm afraid to tape measure my butt because it has grown exponentially. My belly I can forgive, and bigger boobs is never a problem but holy mackarel you could park a truck under the shadow of my ass.

In other non-news: We're finally watching season 3 of 24. Bauer must have brain damage. He gets conked on the head and tied up more than the Hardy Boys ever did in all 104 of their books put together. I loved those books when I was a kid.

One more note:

Dear Subconcious:

I realize I'm a mass of free-floating fears, but the dreams you are sending me are not subtle and very boring. If I have one more night of dreams of Jon leaving or ignoring me, or of me having a miscarriage, or having trouble at work, I'm simply gonna yawn myself to death! How about a little symbolism to play with? Hell, I'd even take some of those stupid "freefalling and the parachute doesn't work" nightmares. When all is said and done, I'd much rather hunt zombies with Damian Lewis. Poop. At this point it could be Daniel Day-Lewis for all I care. Or even Jerry Lewis. Thank you.

-Sandy

Lachelle sent me the a funny link after my Mystery Science Theater 3000 post. It's a Jack Chick tract that has been MSTified.

For those who have never stumbled onto a Jack Chick tract, these are not very well illustrated comics with Christian themes. Normally I have absolutely no problems with the little tracts left around, telling people that Jesus loves you and wants you to be saved, but some of his are screamingly anti-Catholic and Muslim. And the MSTied tract above is my hands-down favorite tract ever!

My previous favorite tract was about a black gangster (no, not gangsta, this was published before that scene) called "Soul Brother" (I think). It was written by someone whose familiarity with African-American culture began and ended with 70's blaxploitation movies. But "Dark Dungeons" is about an evil Dungeon Master who tricks one of her players into becoming a *real* *witch* who casts *real* *spells*.

I was the only female Dungeon Master (I prefer the term Game Operations Director, myself) ever (apparently), and I don't recall encouraging any of my players (none who were ever female) into casting real spells. Not only does this tract rumble about how evil role-playing games are, it has a not-so-subtle subtext about how evil and weak women are. WOMEN DON'T PLAY D&D JACK! Except me. Muahahahahaha!!!

And I sold my lead miniatures to pay for my first parachute.

Anyways, in other news, I keep having these unreality flashes; I keep thinking I'm not pregnant, the baby got reabsorbed or something and now I'm just really fat. But I am exhibiting other symptoms, like my skin is all itchy and I'm breaking out pretty bad (Ick!). I'm also experiencing wierd and vivid dreams.

The one I had last night was a doozy, and almost enjoyable. First off, naturally it had flesh-eating zombies in it. I was holed up with a bunch of people who kept getting picked off as they went out to forage for supplies. Finally it was me and 3 other women left. It started to get real cold (shades of what really happened last night) and the zombies were turning into corpsicles. So we finally left our refuge to find warm clothes and food, and we run into a live man who looked startlingly like Damian Lewis. It wasn't *him*, though. His name was Pete, and he reminded me (when I woke up) of what Damian looked like in Dreamcatcher (must have been the winter clothes). How cool; I meet up with Damian Lewis in a dream and we shoot zombies together. Then I woke up.

Week 15

Below is something I tried to post Friday:

According to this little software countdown timer on my desk, I have exactly 180 days and 22 hours away from giving birth. Hooray!

The Singulair has done wonders for me.

I also have nothing to say.

Oh! I wanted to say congratulations to my brother and his wife-to-be Jenn. Yes, that's right; he popped the question. They are getting hitched late in May.

For your reading amusement, here's a link to a Christmas special that no one wants to believe exists: The Star Wars Holiday Special and a link to my latest review: The Hole.

And now for this week. Next monday is the Amniocentesis. Whee.

My next reviewing project will be Mystery Science Theater 3000 Volume 6, which is a compaliation from one of the strangest shows ever to be shown on cable.

Way back in 1990, I was channel surfing and I had a WTF moment when I stopped on the Comedy Channel. They were showing a movie (I believe it was Robot Holocaust, I could be wrong) and at the bottom of the screen there was a silhouette of a guy and two robots who made sarcastic comments about the movie. It was pretty funny.

I eventually became addicted to the series, especially after they showed The Catalina Caper, a truly bad beach movie; and one of the robots (Tom Servo) sang a beautiful love song, "Creepy Girl". At that point I was hooked. I eventually took to videotaping the series so that my friends could see the series I incessently talked about. Of course those tapes have long disappeared. Too bad we didn't have TiVo back in the day.

The series eventually moved to the Sci-Fi channel and since we didn't get it I quit watching.

The show lasted 10 seasons and even spawned a movie. I have bought some of the movies, notably The Sky Divers and Manos, the Hands of Fate. I really need to track down some of my old favorites, like Godzilla VS Megalon (featuring "Rex Dart, Eskimo Spy!"), Wild Rebels ("I'm in it for the kicks, baby!"), The Pod People ("It stinks!"), among others.

The series spawned a few odd things, like one of the first memorable internet flame wars when co-creator and series regular Joel Hodgson left the show to be replaced by series writer Mike Nelson. In retrospect, like all flame wars, it was silly. For the record, I liked Joel better, but Mike did just fine when Joel left for greener pastures.

And now I'm getting a screener of 3 MST'd movies, including Teenagers from Outer Space, which is a real classic that features TORTURE!!! Oh, this will be fun!

Week 14

Wow. I'm in week 15 already. Dang.

I am going for the amniocentesis in 2 weeks. Should not be fun, unless you think having a big-assed needle shoved in your belly is fun. Then I have the next week off for Christmas vacation, which I'm going to spend resting.

As for my pregnancy, I have had bad athsma problems for the last couple of weeks. Usually it's pretty mild but it has built up lately into needing to suck on the Albuterol inhaler every 4 hours. I'd take more hits if I could but that's the dosage. Hell, I've even had to wake up and hit it. Not pleasant.

I had a checkup yesterday and I complained to the doctor. He gave me a prescription for Singulair, which has 'no known side-effects' but it hasn't been studied very well in pregnant women and is only to be prescribed if absolutely necessary. I was about to throw the stuff in the garbage can when I read that, but then I read about the risks for uncontrolled athsma: low birthweight, premature delivery, and possible blood pressure changes.

The upside is I took my first dose yesterday afternoon, and it's still working. I woke up and used the inhaler, then I only had to use it again at noon. That's a big improvement. I can also smell again. Someone should have told me my car smelled like ass.

My have I been slack. Here is an update on what has been going on:

Jon and I spent Thanksgiving at some friends' house. Jon played with their 6 year-old girl all day (which seemed to consist of beating the living crap out of her, which she loved). He then announced to me on the way home he would prefer a girl. Weeell, I have a 50% shot at giving him what he wants.

I was in Sonoma, California last week. The worst part about the trip was dealing with my athsma, of course. While I was actually at work it was no big deal but the travel itself sucked. The best part about the trip was finding a little chinese restaurant in a strip mall near my hotel. Oh, my gods I have *never* had Kung Pao Chicken that tasty! Oh, yeah. I drove over the Golden Gate bridge, too. La dee frickin da.

I actually bought a Christmas tree for the house. Well, a Christmas shrub. I decorated it, too. It looks kinda lonely so I'm going to have to buy more stupid Christmassy things for the house.

That's about it. Oh, yeah: I bought Spider-Man II on DVD. Did I ever mention how much I like this movie?

Week 13

Sorry for no updates. I'm in Sonoma this week; working. Not much new to report about the pregnancy except I'm officially in the 2nd trimester. Yay!

I fly back tomorrow. Haven't done a thing here except work and sleep. And eat.

Oh! 2 new reviews here and here.

Yesterday was pretty bad. I was sleepy beyond any belief. It was so bad I drove home early from work and crashed on the Gravity Couch for a couple of hours. I refer to my couch in such a matter because I'm convinced the gravity is heavier on its cushions. Why else would people who sit on it eventually be pulled into a prone position? To prove my point, Big Fat Kitty came by to see if he could bug me for some pets. He crashed next to me. Then Jon came by to see if he could bug me for some pets. He crashed next to me, as well.

We got up eventually, and went to dinner at Roadhouse. Well, Kitty stayed home but I bet he would have liked the restaurant. We ended up at the theater to finally watch The Incredibles. In short, Pixar is 6 for 6.

Pixar has always been a creative studio; they really took a right turn here in terms of animation and story with the Incredibles, although they still managed to keep that melancholy but upbeat edge to their themes (fear of replacement in Toy Story, fear of loss in Finding Nemo, the tyranny of bullies in A Bug's Life, fear of the strange in Monsters, Inc). Here the theme *is* incredible for this day and age: societies' habit of beating down the extraordinary and the celebration of mediocrity (if everyone's special, then no one is).

The story concerns super heroes who have been put out of business because of lawsuits; it concerns 2 superheroes especially: Mr. Incredible and Elasti-girl. They have married and are living a quiet suburban life with their three children, also gifted with superhero powers but having to live normally. Mr. Incredible is slowly being crushed by a thankless job at an insurance company and he longs to be the hero he once was. Then an opportunity presents itself but it turns into a trap and the rest of the family has to discover (or re-discover) their abilities to go rescue dad. I really don't want to say more.

I'd rank this as up there with the Toy Story movies; as far as this year goes, I still like Spider Man II better but it blows everything else that I've seen this year out of the water.

Jon made the mistake of playing Galaga with me at the theater while we were waiting for the movie to start. I kicked ass at Galaga when I was in college. I still do pretty good.

Week 12

One more week and I'll officially start my second trimester. Woo-hoo! According to the books, I'll swell up like Violet Beauregard chewing on defective gum. I can no longer wear any of my normal pants without cutting off the circulation to my lower extremities.

This past week all I felt was sleepiness spiced with occasional dizzines and nausea. Nothing new, in other words. Oh, only one psychotic crying jag episode. Jon's been pretty understanding in that area.

Traffic school, fortunately, was a hoot. The man who taught it was entertaining so the three hours I spent in class on Saturday flew by fast. While I completely disagree with getting the ticket, I found the class interesting and informative.

The main thrust of the class was statistics. Like I said, kudos to the officer who taught the class who made statistics palatable. I didn't know this: the #1 cause of accidents is failure to yield. And the instructor emphasized: the leading factor that exacebrates this problem is speed. In other words, my accident is a perfect example of this statistic: I did not see this guy and pulled out in front of him. He was hauling ass on a road with a 35mph speed limit. Had he been going the speed limit, he most likely would have stomped on his breaks, screeched to a halt, and righteously honked and given me the finger. But we both would have driven away. Instead he was going about 60 and he slammed into me still going pretty damn fast. We were both lucky we *walked* away.

I'm also reminded of the time some yahoo pulled out in front of me. I was going slow enough to where when I hit this woman I was going about 5 miles an hour. Neither of us sustained damage to our car. The vast majority of the people there were there because of speeding tickets.

Another eye opener was exactly why traffic law enforcement occurs. I bitched about the greedy court system (and I'm still not happy with what they do), but they're greedy the same way a businessman is greedy: not because they want more money than they know what to do with but because they are trying to remain solvent. Alabama is going to be #1 this year for fatal accidents (on average for the population). The federal gas tax ($.36 per gallon) is doled out to the states by the government but only if the state meets certain requirements. One of those is a low fatality rate. Many counties in Alabama are not getting this revenue. The ones who are have pretty strict traffic enforcement in their area. Apparently there is a high correlation between enforcement (or lack thereof) and accidents.

Oh, hey: did you know it's illegal to be in reverse on a main road? In other words you can't back out of your driveway nor can you back up into it.

So anyway, the class was interesting, and it vindicated my approach to driving. I haven't driven after drinking since I was in my 20's (and I did that very infrequently), and I do not go over the posted speed limit too much ( 3-5 mph over generally, I try to pay attention more in residential areas). Jon bitches that I drive like an old woman and now I'm proud of it. Still pissed about the ticket though.

Well, that wasn't fun. It wasn't that bad, either. I received a court-appointed attorney, who essentially said I didn't have a snowball's chance in hell. The bright side is I'm taking a traffic school so the charge will be dismissed. Jon wasn't happy with me wussing out. I'm not completely happy either. At least this way it's not on my record nor my insurance.

Feh! Feh, I say!

Here's my whole criminal record:

1)Failure to yield while turning left - my fault; I got into a wreck. The other guy shouldn't have been speeding, but I shouldn't have pulled in front of him. This was a fair gig.

2)Driving w/an expired license. Again, a fair gig, but the thing that amuses me is I knew it was expired (by 3 days), and I had gone in that very morning to renew it. Whoops, they aren't open on Mondays. So guess which schmuck gets caught in a roadblock that very night?

3)Driving w/an expired registration. Again, I was guilty. It was someone else's car. So let this be a lesson to you! Check the tag before you drive someone else's vehicle.

That's it, ladies and germs. Yes, that's right; I have never received a speeding ticket. I did get a warning once.

Not much to say or do. One way or another that court thing will be out of the way tomorrow (at least, it better) so I have spent much of today thinking about what I'm going to say. I'll report on it once it's over and done with.

I was able to sleep 9 hours last night. I feel pretty good today; not as much sleepiness as usual. Can you tell I have nothing to write about? Jon is on a self-help kick and listening to a lot of books on the subject. I should listen too, except they put me to sleep. A butt nekkid british redhead would put me to sleep the way I feel now. Even if he offered me a footrub or volunteered to loofah my stretch marks in the shower. $.50 to whomever remembers what movie that's from.

Despite all the rest I got last night I had a flesh-eating zombie dream last night. Inside a mall, no less. I don't remember any details except, well, flesh-eating zombies in a mall. Why can't I have dreams about pirates? Seems that would be more fun. Arr.

Yay Condi Rice. I want her to go to Saudi Arabia, and I want her first words upon getting off the plane to be “I’ll drive.”

Lileks amuses me. Make sure you check out his new Interior Desecrations on his site.

Week 11

A note: This is the end of week 11, not the beginning. I have 2 more weeks to go before I enter the 2nd trimester. Then, according to all the books, I'll start growing in leaps and bounds. Hoo boy.

Nothing new to report in the symptom department. This weekend was tough because I worked both Saturday and Sunday at my real job to make up the day I'm going to lose Thursday when I go to court. I also did part of a Ground school on Saturday so rest time was difficult to come by.

I did have one scare last week which I will refrain from describing due to the readers who have more delicate dispositions. Let's just say I overreacted to an incident which I felt for sure was a sign of miscarriage. Sheesh. Did I mention the next 7 months are going to be loooooooong?

As the Prop Turns: The woman I feared was paying too much attention to my husband seems to be getting involved with another skydiver. This other skydiver is a friend and a nice guy; he married and divorced a raging evil banshee not so long ago so I hope he's over that. Both of them could use a break in the dating department. Of course this turn of events is a relief to me; it also makes me feel even more embarrassed by all the irrational shit I put her through.

In other dz news, we had a party Saturday night. Drunk people are obnoxious. Funny how I didn't notice this before. Jon seemed more worried about people doing stupid things than being able to relax and enjoy himself. I don't think it will be as much fun to run our drop zone as we get busier and we see more strangers. As it was the worst incident was an out of towner fell and cut her hand pretty good on a beer bottle. She received 5 stitches. A bunch of them went to the local skating rink and got kicked out 5 minutes later. What is it about skydiving that makes people act like they are 6 years old?

Big Fat Kitty loves MacDonald's french fries. This might be one of the reasons why he's Big Fat Kitty.

My worst symptom is most definitely sleepiness. Caffeine doesn't help; which is a good thing because I know I should cut down. I keep snoozing at inappropriate times. I have a 35 minute commute to work; I hope I don't nod off while I'm driving.

An amusing story: two weeks ago about $500 in cash came up missing from the DZ's till. We searched everywhere for it, but couldn't figure out when it disappeared. Our manifest person, Stacey, was beside herself because she remembers putting it in the strongbox, but no one could recall if it actually made it home or went missing while we were out at the DZ. It was especially upsetting because if it were stolen, that would have meant that one of the people who was out at the DZ on Sunday night took it but none of them struck us as someone who would have done that. It's upsetting to think a friend would do that.

So Jon was packing a parachute on the living room floor Wednesday, and spotted the cash on the ground, hiding behind our entertainment console. Using deductive logic that would have made any CSI team proud, he realized what had happened:

The money made it home in the strong box. He usually sets the box down in the computer room floor next to his desk. He must have opened it to get something out and left it open. The cash was held together by a rubber band; Big Fat Kitty just looooooves rubber bands so he must have filched the cash out of the box to play with it. He finally managed to bat it under the console and left it there.

Heh! We have a cat burglar in the house! Ha! Hahahahaha! Heh. Eh. I thought it was funny.

He's never stolen money before. Usually he finds pens and hides them underneath the refrigerator. We found around 2 dozen pens underneath the one in our old house when we were getting ready to move.

Here's another short entry only to link to my latest review. Constant readers will note that I never throw away a good line.

Oh, yeah. Here's a review I nearly missed.

There's a word for this:

Defenestration
NOUN: An act of throwing someone or something out of a window.

Feh. Woke up worried because my boobs aren't as sore as they have been. In some ways I wish my symptoms were worse. I should be glad I feel this good.

One thing I noticed when I was at court last week: most, if not all, of the people who were there to pay fines/plead/whatever, were poorer people. Hartselle is predominantly white, but I saw mainly blacks and hispanics. The white people there were definitely blue-collar types. To me my $130 fine is annoying. To them it fines like that must really hurt. I'm not going to mumble comments about irresponsibility; most of them were there because something was wrong with their car, or they were driving without insurance or registration: things that cost money. Everyone bitches about how businesses exploit the poor, but how come no one bitches about how the courts exploit them? Well I'm bitching.

I'm pretty well convinced 90% of all laws are on the books to make sure that police can tag you with something if they don't like you for some reason. I wonder how many people have been arrested and prosecuted for carrying beer in their car in a dry county? I'm sure all of them looked like they couldn't afford a lawyer. They probably gave the arresting officer some lip.

I'm not against having laws; I'm against the arbitrary manner the police use in enforcing them. I got a ticket because I don't know the right people and I somehow annoyed a police officer. Hell, if you're the right person you can be caught with an open beer in your hand and they'll smile and wave you through.

I'm just pissed thinking about that police officer who did his best to intimidate me. Not in a threatening manner; he just bullshitted me to make sure I wouldn't fight the ticket. I was okeydoked and I still feel humiliated just thinking about it.

I doubt I'll beat the charge. Feh again.

Week 10

Every Monday I'll try and update on the little person in my belly.

I'm not feeling much in the way of symptoms; just sometimes I get really sleepy. I've also developed a sweet tooth, which I have to stop. Even Coke is starting to taste good again! I quit drinking soft drinks sometime during college.

I bought a stretchy pair of blue jeans today because even my fat jeans aren't fitting well. I weighed 148.8 this morning.

I taught a ground school and packed a reserve on Saturday, and afterwards I was dog-tired. I panicked when Jon talked everyone into going to a club; I begged out and he was ok with it. Just what I want: a loud club filled with cigarette smoke, surrounded by people drinking beer.

I actually have had no beer cravings, but besides the candy and coke binges, I am really craving sushi. I'll have to make some at home with cooked ingredients.

Sunday evening one of our King Air engines developed a problem. Annoying; thank goodness it was during the last load of the day so we didn't lose any business. The part that's bad will cost around 5 grand. I'm beginning to think that the best way to get a perm is to own an airplane and read the bills everytime you want a little curl in your hair. Having said that, I should have an afro by now.

Oh, ok: Here's what I really think about the presidential election.

I know that many people who voted for Kerry are truly, truly depressed about the election results. How horrible for you, to chafe under the yoke of a majority who don't think your way. How even more horrible that it's such a slim majority. The pain you are feeling is the result of democracy under a centralized federal government. If you let Washington wield all the authority, you risk handing all the power over to people who don't think like you; and that's pretty much what happened with this election.

Some liberal Democrats are mumbling things about seccession. Booyah! Some of you are getting a clue!

You don't have to move to Canada; just work on decoupling all that damn power from the Imperialists in Washington, give it back to the states, then vote with your feet.

My take on the whole election issue:

The Bruce Willis Yahoo Group is grousing because Damian Lewis is ahead by well over 1,000 votes in voting for most attractive man for November in Hello! Magazine's poll. They have decided that the Damian Lewis Yahoo Group has rigged the election with an automatic voting program. Well, screw them! They just aren't as dedicated and don't appreciate true passion for such an important vote. They also think, because they have never heard of him that no one else has. Well, hell; they're Bruce Willis fans! He was in Armageddon! No, no, bringing up Dreamcatcher isn't fair; at least Damian didn't have Ben Affleck telling him he loved him. Sure, he had a few bonding moments with Jason Lee (who had to kiss Ben in one of his movies), but it's not the same thing!

So go vote and support your favorite group of yahoos.

Jon uploaded this photo on the Skydive Alabama forum. He's so proud! 

Well, my date in court was nothing. I pleaded not guilty so they set another date when I am to plead my case (2 weeks from now). Now I'm wishing I should have asked them to put the court date sometime in February, where I should really start to show because Nancy is right: weepy pregnant women are all innocent. Bah! All that lost sleep for nothing.

Today took no time at all thank goodness; I'm sure I'll have to spend most of the day in court the next time because my last name begins with "M". I rue the day I stopped being a Boykin. I told Jon I wanted to change our last name to "Aardvark" but on the other hand, I don't want my child laughed out of school and into a bell tower with a high-powered rifle in tow. Hm, I'm hankering to watch Parenthood again.

It could be worse I guess; my last name could be "Zuckerman". When you're sliding into home, and your pants are full of foam, diarrhea! pffft! pffft! diarrhea! pffft! pffft!

I had a sonogram yesterday. The little bugger is about 4/5th of an inch long and has a heartbeat. I heard and saw it. Kinda drove the point home - I have a little person growing in my body. Yeah, I started crying. Jon was with me through the whole checkup and everything; he was a little disturbed about the doctor's exam - understandable; I think guys would just as soon keep the notion of a gynocological exam in the abstract. But he was all smiles and wonder during the sonogram.

I will be going to UAB's medical center to have an amniocentesis performed on December 20th. They will draw some amniotic fluid, and from cells they gather there they will be performing genetic testing. It will take about 2 weeks to get results. I am not looking forward to that procedure; plus it increases the chances of a miscarriage but on the other hand my chances of having a baby with a severe birth defect is about 1 in 50.

I hate all these percentage things, because they never tell you how they arrive at those percentages or what behaviors can modify those percentages. Look, as an old D&D geek gamer, I wanna know what bonuses and minuses I get. I know that being younger is the big thing, but doesn't the fact that I don't smoke count for anything? How about I tend to take care of myself and know what a balanced diet is (and for the most part eat one)?

I am not going to worry about that too much just yet; I just want to get to week 13 when my chances of miscarriage start to drop.

I have my court date tomorrow. More than likely I'll tell them I'm not guilty then they'll assign me another court date. Feh!

Nothing new to talk about today; the weekend was slow and uneventful. I did buy Dawn of the Dead the unrated director's cut on DVD and watched it. It's a fun movie to inflict on people, I have discovered. The extra scenes didn't really add much to the movie, although one explained better how our protagonists originally broke into the shopping mall.

Universal is demanding a sequel to DotD, and George Romero is finally making Dead Reckoning, his fourth zombie movie. Along with Shaun of the Dead it's been a banner year for me as far as zombie movies go. I am not including Resident Evil:Apocalypse, by the way. That movie was just stupid, even for a zombie movie. Uwe Boll's House of the Dead however remains the absolute worst zombie movie in recent history.

I'm not feeling well at the moment; kind of run down and icky. Is it the pregnancy or is it all the leftover Halloween candy? Or a combination?

Inspired by Nancy's list, here are my top 5 favorite candies:

5: Caramels
4: Sour skittles
3: Nestle's Crunch bar
2: Smarties
1: Candy corn

Oooooooooooh. I feel sick!

For the record: my cat never pooped in my shoe. She has given me plenty of puke and hairballs as gifts, however. She wouldn't dream of hiding them under the bed. She makes sure they are right in the middle of the room, where I can step in it. Big Fat Kitty sometimes gives me puke gifts, especially if he has gotten hold of and has tried to eat a rubber band. They love me!

Doctor's appointment tomorrow!

Quick update: I watched Garfield last night. Puss N' Boots from Shrek 2 remains my favorite CGI kitty. Garfield the kitty was too unrealistic. All the other animals were just CGI'd to make them talk. I really liked Nermal, the doofus siamese. You would think a big fat kitty voiced by Bill Murray would be worth it but they should have found a real kitty to play Garfield.

And as for Shrek 2, which I saw when I was in California, it wasn't as good as the 1st but it was still worth watching especially because of Antonio Banderas' kitty. I can't recall the last time I saw a movie where the kitty was a good guy and the dog got squished. In all fairness, the little doggie wasn't evil or anything, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I am definitely more of a cat person than a dog person, but I don't dislike dogs. Except big ones that try to intimidate you. And little yappy ones. Bleah. Cats just kind of give you the stinkeye if you intrude on their territory. Oh, sure, they're insufferable if they go into heat - that's what the veterinarian is for. But anyway, where was I?

I really like Shrek and its sequel because more kid movies need to emphasize the ideas to not judge people by their looks, and that only beautiful people can find true happiness is a crock. And farting in mud puddles is perfectly socially acceptable and a lot more fun if you do it with your spouse.

My brother sent me this link to the Team America lyrics. Not safe for work, ya know.

Here is my latest review. I wish I could have done better; I was somewhat rushed. I'm doing some Kiera Knightley movie next.

I bow to Nancy's superior pregnancy wisdom and I have invested in lemon. It is mighty tasty in the Twining's English Breakfast decaffinated tea I bought for work. The flax sounds like a splendid idea, too; especially since I'm afraid to take fish oil for omega3 fatty acids and flax has some.

Speaking of pregnancy wisdom, I have become morbidly aware of just how little I know about babies, children, pregnancy, etc. It was just something I never cared about. I grouped that into the same category as weddings and marriage; many young girls and women tend to fantasize and plan out their weddings; I never gave it any thought until it was about to happen and then I would have been more than happy to go elope just to get it over with. The damn ceremony didn't mean much to me. It did to Jon, so we got married skydiving. Which was cool but I was still damn nervous.

Now I might be a parent and I have no idea what that truly entails. The nice thing is being a parent is an almost universal experience therefore plenty of information exists. Way too much, in fact. Now I have to try to sort through it all and figure out what makes sense and what sounds like bullshit.

Congrats to the Red Sox for winning the World Series. The team did a great job of settling down, whupping up on the Yankees, and just playing good, solid baseball. I watched game 7 of the NLCS and remembered how much I had liked baseball back in the day.

Way back in 1990, the Braves sucked. Dale Murphy still played for them, but he was at the end of his career. I went and saw a ballgame at Fulton County and fell in love with live baseball. I knew the game sort-of; I used to watch the tape delays of the Braves in the early 80's on WTGS late night because that was the only thing that was on and I was a chronic night owl. My favorite player was Phil Niekro, a sleepy looking knuckleball pitcher. He was long gone from the game by the time I got interested in baseball again, so I had to pick a new favorite so I settled on John Smoltz. Don't ask me why, I just did. Tom Glavine was a close 2nd.

Anyway, the Braves didn't lose 100 games in 1990 but they came close. Boy they sucked. September of that year I got called up to active duty so I missed the rest of that lousy season at Fort Riley, Kansas. My sister, who had become a fan during that period as well, called me up one day and asked me if I wanted to buy weekend season tickets. I said sure, why not; they were not that expensive at the time, plus I knew I would be spending that much time at the ballpark anyway.

I felt like I had jumped on a bandwagon 40 minutes before everyone else! I recall driving home in my tired little Pinto from Kansas in early April 1991; I remember hearing a game pitched by Steve Avery on WSB as I neared Atlanta. I really enjoyed the 91 season, except that for the 1st half Smoltz couldn't pitch. he went something like 2 -11. Fortunately he turned around in the 2nd half and ended up something like 14 -12 and was a huge reason for what success they had during the post-season games.

The Braves went to the World Series that year, losing in Game 7 to the Minnesota Twins. I recall watching that game then going into my room and crying for a couple of hours. I had a lot of emotional investment in that season and I think I was crying as much because it was over than because they had lost. The Braves have been in the hunt every season since; and I'm always disappointed when they lose, but I'm not going to whine about it. Braves fans are spoiled and they don't remember what it's like to be total losers (that's because most of them weren't fans before 1991). They have won 1 World Series in that time span, and that's better than many teams in recent history.

So I tip my imaginary cap to the long suffering Boston fans - patience is indeed a virtue. Now maybe in my lifetime I'll get to see the Cubs win a World Series (preferably by beating the Yankees).

My next movie review should be posted soon. I'll link as soon as it is.

Giving up caffeine is tough. I'm not feeling any headaches or anything; I'm just sleepy and desperate to stay awake.

My biggest worry right now is still of course miscarriage; I take solace in that I'm healthy (discounting allergies and athsma) and in relatively good shape; and each passing day lessens the chance. My second biggest worry is birth defects. Everything I have read scares me poopless - I wish I were poopless, but I'll talk about that later. Friend and sometimes pilot Dan's wife just had a baby and she's 42. I had forgotten that. Their baby is healthy. I'm glad there's so much information available about late pregnancies.

Speaking of poop, the prenatal vitamins have a lot of iron in them and they bind me up tighter than cold gravy on a dinner plate. The solution is of course Metamucil (the harsher laxatives are contraindicated), but that means I poop all the time. If I stop taking it I get bloaty and poop small rocks. There is no middle ground.

I have an amusing anniversary coming up: Last year on October 31st I fell in lust with Damian Lewis: and before you ask, of course the name 'Damian' will in no way be considered for my child. 1), I can't imagine anything more creepy than naming your kid after some twinkie* actor, and 2) since most Americans think the name 'Damian' means 'son of Satan' I just couldn't do that to a child.

Anyway, last year on Halloween** I rented Dreamcatcher and the rest is history; but I think I must have set some kind of personal record for longest continuous crush. Oh, sure, I had a thing for Harrison Ford (and Mel Gibson) for the longest time, it just wasn't continuous. I always had 1 or 2 other actors on the side. Now true, I have cheated on Damian with Eric Bana, but Eric was there first and I never forgot him.

Damian has been in a slew of projects recently, mainly for British television or independent movies. The Toronto and New York film festivals have come and gone, and I have had to endure other fans' breathless accounts of meeting him and how sweet he is and how nice he smells and the fact that he is quite liberal with the hugs. And I'm not talking about an across the shoulder brief squeezy fake hug, I'm talking about a bear grip feel-my-boobies full bore hug with a smooch.

Damian is in an upcoming British movie that might actually get a domestic release: Chromophobia, written and directed by Martha Fiennes, who is indeed Ralph and Joseph's sister. Talented family. The cast is fascinating - including her sib Ralph Fiennes (two listees! woo-hoo!), Ben Chaplin, Penelope Cruz, and Kristen Scott-Thomas (who went on record recently stating that Damian Lewis is a fantastic kisser and why are all these women driving me insane???). Not sure what the movie is about except he plays a corrupt lawyer married to Scott-Thomas and his family is coming apart at the seams.

So happy anniversary Damian, from your imaginary stalker. Here's hoping someone offers you a part in an American movie that a) has a budget of more than $300K, b) is not based on a Stephen King novel, and c) does not star Jennifer Lopez. Although with c) I must admit I'm still anticipating that movie (An Unfinished Life, should they ever release it) just so I can watch you smack her around. I kid - I don't hate J-Lo; bashing her is just a fashionable thing to do.

*Footnote: all actors are twinkies. I am not singling out my beloved.

**Footnote2: Last Halloween Jon and I were vacationing in St. John, USVI. If I actually manage to have this baby, I can't wait to introduce him/her to my favorite place on earth. Of course I'm going to wait until he/she would appreciate it...

One last note: Nancy - that is a fantastic defense! I shall exploit it to the fullest. Besides, I have the feeling that I won't be faking it if I start crying in the court room...

In response to Helly's reminder of the orange goo served to her as a child: have no fear! My mom used to serve that to us, as well. While I don't think it traumatized me as much, there was a reason I preferred grape juice for so long. Once I discovered OJ in a carton, I never thought about drinking the frozen concentrate stuff again.

I'm still playing catch-up from last week. Next week is going to be fun; not only do I have a doc's appointment on Tuesday I have the court date for the ticket Thursday. I really don't want to fight it but on the other hand $130 for missing the entrance to a restaurant is ridiculous.

Holy poop what a long week! I have to keep this short for now; first off I want to say thank you for everyone's congratulations on the bun in my oven. I am feeling fine, except for some fatigue and the occasional bout of nausea. And sore boobies. I'm so happy my boss is being very supportive. Plus, he told me about other women who work here who have stay at home husbands.

Sonoma was work for the most part so I'll refrain from recapping that trip except to say it was nice to have Jon with me. I probably would have been very depressed had he not been there. We ate out one night at an interesting restaurant named "Tex Wasabi's" which was a mixture of sushi and barbeque. I ate sushi, I am ashamed to say. But it was so tasty! I swear I won't do it again until after this is all said and done.

We saw Team America:World Police which was absolutely hysterical. I'm sorry it hasn't done too well at the box office; I guess I'm not the only one who gets the heebie jeebies when she sees marionettes. But still, you will believe a puppet can puke!

And I bet you are wondering how I could have ignored a movie like Shaun of the Dead. I thought I would have to wait for DVD to see it, but Jon wanted to see it too. Yay! A romantic comedy with flesh-eating zombies! Loser Shaun has a dead end (ha!) job and lives with his deadbeat (ha!) best friend, Ed. His girlfriend dumps him for being in a rut. He's in such a rut it takes him and Ed a long time to realize that London's been overrun with zombies. He for once decides to take action so he rounds up his ex and his mum and several assorted zombie lunches and they hole up in his favorite pub. It was very sweet. And grisly.

We also watched Wrong Turn, a fairly standard people get stranded in the woods and get terrorized by backwoods rednecks. Obviously inspired by that Season 4 ep of The X-Files, "Home", it featured some of the most inbred humans ever. I'll give the scriptwriter credit for trying to make the victims more sympathetic than they usually are in stupid movies like this one. I'll also give them points for not having a stupid twist ending.

I am enjoying Nancy's recounting of her little precious child's terrorist activities cute antics in restaurants. I'm really wondering what I'm getting myself into. On the flight to Oakland, a couple had a 2 year old with them that cried most of the way there. I was very impressed they didn't throttle their child. Remind me to bring a sackfull of earplugs to pass out if I ever travel by plane with a young child.

No updates most likely for the next week; I'm going to Sonoma, California on a business trip.

I'd like to take this moment to whine mightily about all the things I can't eat, drink, or do. Thank goodness reading isn't bad for pregnancy or I would have gone insane (or more insane than I all ready am) this weekend.

It has come to my attention that a skydiver or two I know has surfed into my little blog. Everything I have written I wrote with the knowledge that anyone could read it and I have no problem with any one reading this - even the ugly shit. Welcome to my solipsistic little corner of the web/universe.

Things are finally calming down about my pregnancy a little; so far today no crying jags so maybe I'm getting a grip on everything. Thanks to everyone for their congrats/support when I broke the news; we haven't told people at the drop zone but I'm sure the cat will be completely out of the bag by this weekend, especially since I'm not skydiving. No big deal.

Jon is being wonderfully supportive. He's still in shock too, but we've started making tentative plans for the future. So far things will pretty much stay the same; I will work and he'll take care of the kid during the weekdays and that will switch during the weekends. He's planning to sell his jeep and getting something more functional, like a mini-van (*Snerk!*). We're also thinking about selling the Cessna to free up more money. No exotic vacations for us for a while. Not that I care. Yet.

My big job right now is to quit caffeine, or to get it to trace amounts. That will be hard. Giving up alcohol is going to be easy; it wasn't something I took every day. I do have a 5-6 cup a day habit w/ coffee, though. I'm only drinking 2 cups a day now but I want to go ahead and stop completely.

Apparently, there is a physiological reason for my mood swings and depression for the last 3 weeks (though I'm certain some of it was from circumstances): I'm pregnant.

My period was late by 4-5 days, which in itself is no big deal; I've had an odd menstural cycle my whole life. When I got off the pill about 2 years ago, however, I was fairly regular. But anyway, for some reason on Monday morning I started to obsess over it. It got to the point where I left work, went to Wal-mart to pick up a pregnancy test kit (a 3-pack; I was figuring I'd need them eventually in the future), got home, peed on the strip, and watched in numb shock as the 2nd line turned pink.

I burst out crying; my thinking ranged over a bunch of things and finally I got enough control to call Jon and tell him. He promised to come home as soon as he finished his errands; in the meantime I called my OB/GYN's office to make an appointment for them to test me. When Jon got home I did another pee test - positive again. We talked about it some but for the most part we were in a state of shock.

When I woke up in the morning I used the last test to make sure I hadn't been dreaming the whole thing. Yesterday afternoon I had my pee tested and blood drawn at the doc's office and they confirmed it. My blood is also being tested for HIV and a bunch of other fun diseases. I had a short talk w/a very busy OB/GYN nurse and was given a buttload of literature to peruse. She also calculated my preliminary due date, which is June 7th. I thought it was odd that she calculated in from the first day of my last period, which was somewhere between the 1st and 7th of September. Apparently that's standard practice. So while I am in the 5th week of my pregnancy, I conceived on either the 12th of September or the 21st. What? Was that TMI? Too bad.

What to Expect When Expecting is an informative book. I carefully read the first sections and skimmed the rest. I was prepared to give up beer; I'm bummed about the (raw) sushi and coffee. Today I'm going out at lunchtime to buy a folic acid supplement as well as stock up on Tylenol and Metamucil. I'll have to eventually modify my exercise routine but for the most part I can continue. Obviously I can't start any calorie restrictive diets. Matter of fact everything I read recommends eating 300 calories over maintenence (which puts me at about 2100 a day).

Of course, the big deal with me is skydiving. Will I give that up, and when? I think I'll give it up now.

When I was crying and thinking Monday, my strongest feelings were of that I really want this kid. I'm worried about problems that can arise since I'm so old (I'm buoyed by knowing Nancy isn't much younger than me and Anthony is quite healthy and normal). This thought might be irrational, but this feels like this is my only shot and I don't want to mess it up. Before, if something happened to me while skydiving, oh well oops. I could get messed up but a broken bone or two is survivable. Now I have to think about a pregnant me in a cast or two. Ugh, no thanks. Not to mention I could hurt or lose the baby.

Last night I had nightmares about miscarriages. Sheesh, isn't it a little early to start with this?

Oh, yeah; I called mom and dad, and Andrea and Edward. Both parents are delighted, as are my sibs. They all threaten to spoil him/her rotten. I'm glad both mom and dad remarried, that means more grandparents for the kid! Jon called his mom and she started crying. Jon's father is dead and she hasn't remarried.

So anyway, my blog will probably get kind of obsessive here in the next 9 months. I am relieved to know that my odd reactions to things lately have a reason; it makes it easier for me to handle. Okay, 'odd' is an understatement. As I told someone last night, I have been acting 'thermonuclear bugfuck crazy' lately.

And it's just beginning!

Not much of an update today. Jon and I watched Kate & Leopold last night; with Meg Ryan and that Australian guy with the huge ackman ($.50 to Nancy). It was cute.

That's it.

What an odd weekend.

Friday night I went out with my husband and 6 male skydivers; one of them works for a Japanese car company and was enthusiastically telling us about prostitution in Japan. Being the only woman in the group I felt a little out of place. We ended up in this club that had a blues rock trio playing. They were energetic and competent. I spent some time dancing with my husband; the beer helped, but what helped most was when I stopped thinking about being self-concious and thought about the fact that I was with Jon.

But then an altercation broke out: where there are more than 2 skydivers there is a video camera; the guy filming got into a minor argument with a man who didn't want to be filmed. He smoothed it over; he wasn't looking for a fight. Unfortunately another skydiver was; under the guise of 'backing (skydiver A) up', he started insulting the other man even though the other man and skydiver A had ironed out their misunderstanding. What ended up happening is skydiver A grabbed skydiver B; the bouncer grabbed skydiver A in a headlock and ran him outside.

Skydiver A finally calmed down (especially when the cops arrived) but skydiver B insisted he had done no wrong. Jon practically threw this extremely drunk idiot in the van and we left. I have had enough of the police for one decade.

Saturday started rainy and remained that way all day. Suspecting foul weather, I started rereading The Stand for the umpity-umpth time. We all rented some movies - oh by the way, once everyone slept it off everything was hunky dory. Men are downright scary when they're angry (and drunk), but they seem to let things go quicker than women. I say 'seem to' but I wonder if that's real.

Oh, yeah; the movies: Walking Tall. It was eh. Along Came Polly. Less than eh, though I was shocked at how nice a body Hank Azaria has. He always came across to me as an ordinairy schlub. I'm fairly certain there was a 3rd movie but I can't remember what it was right now. Oh, yeah! Man on Fire with Denzel Washington. It was a remake of an obscure and mediocre Scott Glenn movie made in the mid-80's. It was the best movie I saw all weekend but I'm not sure I'm saying much. Depressing, too.

Sunday was a little better; we got two loads up for the whole day. Once I returned from retrieving a skydiver who landed out, I discovered that the woman I have been having problems with had finally returned. I was determined to keep from acting flaky and hostile and I think I succeeded. She brought a photo album with her which I flipped through. Some of the pictures of her with Jon gave me acid indigestion. So yeah, I still feel threatened. She's prettier than I am. We got along but I fought with depression (and boredom) all day.

We had one bit of excitement and I don't mean it in a good way; one of our pilots (and a skydiver and a friend) was flying into the airport (in a small rental plane) when he lost his engine. He radioed in for us to call the firetruck; for an instant we all thought he had to be joking. We all piled outside and watched him land gear up. Scared the crap out of all of us but he was okay.

Finished up Sunday by watching The Butterfly Effect which wasn't half bad. Depressing but not bad. I don't think Ashton Kutchner did a bad job. Why? Because I didn't spend the movie thinking that it was that guy from "That 70's Show". And, hey; haven't seen Eric Stoltz in forever. Where have you been?

Can you see the real me, can you?

Yet another uninteresting day yesterday. I did TiVo CSI:New York. I was amused to note they used another old Who song for its theme (Baba O'Reilly). I wanted to watch it because Gary Sinise is in it. It wasn't as good as the original CSI is. I'm living in a world where I think William Petersen is doing a better job than Gary Sinise. Ooookay.

I haven't seen CSI: Miami yet. Not big on David Caruso, red hair nonwithstanding. He looks like an evil Howdy Doody puppet. I realize that I consider "evil puppet" redundant. Any way, I wonder what Who song they are using? Won't Get Fooled Again? Squeeze Box? Boris the Spider? I'm thinking the best song would be The Real Me. Hm. I haven't heard Quadrophenia in a long time. I used to love the Who; I don't own anything of theirs on CD. I smell a trip to Best Buy in the future.

I just checked: CSI:Miami uses Won't Get Fooled Again. Okay, does that really make any sense? I realize it's more well known than The Real Me, but it makes no sense in context. Well, okay a little sense, as in 'you're covering up a murder; you can't fool me'. Who Are You is genius. Baba O'Reilly is at least melancholy, but it's completely nonsensical in context.

After about a month layoff, Jon and I have started to go to the gym again. Yes, I'm sore. Kind of you to ask.

I'll keep this post mercifully short; obviously I do not have anything compelling to talk about. I *did* get to watch part of the Braves/Astros game last night. How sad is that: I recognized more players on the Astros than I did the Braves. I'm always happy to see Jon Smoltz. And see - this is exactly why TiVo rules. I had the TV turned to the game when Jon (my Jon, not Mr. Smoltz, though I would have helped him had he asked) asked me to help him uninstall some of the most annoying spyware ever made. I heard a loud cheer from the TV, saw that the Braves had won, so I rewound to enjoy the home run. Go, Braves! Woo-hoo!

Oh yeah: here's my latest review. I have nothing in the queue right now.

"Rated R for graphic, crude, sexual humor; violent images and strong language all involving puppets." Does this line disturb you as much as it disturbs me? I am so looking forward to this movie as I'm a big Parker and Stone fan, but puppets, especially those modelled after the Thunderbird puppets, give me the heebie jeebies.

Yesterday I came home and Jon had cleaned the kitchen for me. How sweet is that? He also bought a hammock big enough for two people; after dinner we lay in it and watched the stars come out. It was very nice. The best season in Alabama is Fall; the days are still warm but the nights are crisp. Not so horribly cold they drive you indoors to willingly cook yourself over a space heater.

Not much else to report.

I was saddened to hear that Rodney Dangerfield went gentle into that good night. I must rewatch Back To School in his honor soon.

A stray skydiver and his girlfriend came over for dinner last night. I made Chinese food and we watched The Punisher. It was okay. I'm not sure whether I like a brunette Thomas Jane, but yow does he have a nice chest! Plus this movie beat the heck out of the Dolph Lundgren version. Recap: undercover officer is involved in a bust that gets a crime lord's (John Travolta) son killed. Crime lord has all of officer's family killed. And I mean the whole, extended family! Said officer is left for dead, but of course he's not, so he comes back and wreaks vengeance - I mean, punishment - on crime lord's business, friends, and family. It's based on a Marvel comic book but the plot reminded me in some ways of Mad Max. And it took a while for him to turn into the sadistic bastard I remembered him as.

I have to go on a business trip to California in a few weeks. Jon, bless him, is going with me. How cool is that?

Whoo. Long weekend. Saturday I did 6 skydives; Sunday I taught ground school and did 3 AFF skydives. I was exhausted when we finally returned home Sunday night.

My exhaustion did not prevent us from watching Eurotrip, which was too bad because it wasn't very good. There were plenty of boobies to distract Jon and the stray skydiver he brought home from the fact that it sucked. It had a few funny gags, including Matt Damon as a shorn, pierced and tattooed lead singer for a band. You're too cute to pass yourself off as a hardcore punk, you silly boy. Oh, yes. There was a scene at a nude beach with an incredible amount of male nudity. It was pretty hideous, though.

My mom and her husband dropped by Saturday afternoon. I went to dinner with them and they slept at our house. They were on their way to Mobile. I was glad to see them; I really don't get to see my parents very often any more.

Jon was in a bad mood on Sunday; I can't really blame him. He was drunk dialed by a skydiver Saturday night who didn't understand why Jon got upset because she was calling him from a drop zone whose owners we dislike. It boils down to the difference between customers and friends. Can you be friends with someone who is your customer? Most drop zone owners have the reputation of being pricks. Jon doesn't want to be a prick but that leaves him with the feeling of being betrayed by a friend when that person makes a decision based purely on money.

I have no real friends who are skydivers. (Yes, this is a shout-out, y'all). In many ways I'm glad. Don't get me wrong; I like a lot of them and we're friendly but at the end of the day they pay their bills and go home. Some of them I would go out of my way to help but that's because they have helped us with no expectation of compensation.

Anyway, speaking of Jon, things are a lot better between us. I have discovered just how clueless I am when it comes to relationships. I'm such a nerd I'm out hunting for other books to help. Loving someone else is apparently not an innate talent in me.

Since the presidential race is heating up because of the debates, I think it's time to discuss more in depth about the James Bond issue. Since Sony has bought MGM, one has to wonder what will become of 007. Despite a cameo by Madonna, Die Another Day did great business so Sony will not overlook MGM's #1 cash cow. Actually I guess that would be their only cash cow; one of the reasons they put themselves on the auction block.

So where is the Bond franchise right now? A script has been written; the screenwriters are saying they are focusing more on character and plot but I'll believe that when I see it. The studio wanted a new Bond pic in '05 but now it looks like it will be pushed to 2006. Pierce Brosnan says he hasn't been asked to repeat his role and everyone with an accent has rumors being bandied about including a short-lived one about my favorite flame-headed Brit. He laughed that rumor off, of course. He said there would never be a 'ginger Bond'. Too bad, I say, but on the other hand I don't want him to be Bond. I'd love for him to be a Bond villain, though.

I still say being a Bond baddie never hurt anyone's career. I mean being a Bond villain means you join the ranks of Donald Pleasance, Christopher Lee, Robert Shaw, Jonathan Pryce, Sean Bean, Robert Carlyle, Christopher Walken (yay!), Louis Jordan, Max Von Sydow, Joe Don Baker, and Robert Davi. And Telly Savalas. Okay, you might not know all of them but I do. Trust me, being a Bond villain does not look bad on a resume.

Now let's look at the Bonds: sure Sean Connery has had a career past Bond, but how long did it take for him to pull out of that shadow? He did Diamonds Are Forever in 1971. He did things, here and there, most notably Highlander but did not receive real stardom until The Untouchables in 1987. Remember his "patience is indeed a virtue" speech during the Oscars? He has a point.

Now what about George Lazenby's career? Roger Moore's? Timothy Dalton's? Actually, Pierce Brosnan has managed to have somewhat of a career outside of Bond (I loved Remington Steele, BTW).

So just about everyone with a British or Australian background is being considered. In the Australian world, despite Bana's vehement protest to the contrary, is still considered a frontrunner. I still think the idea sucks. However, he just signed on to a movie with Curtis Hanson (8 Mile,Wonderboys, and L.A. Confidential) about a poker player. He's also slated to be in Stephen Spielberg's Vengeance so when is he going to get a chance to be Bond in the next couple of years?

Also in the Australian arena is M.I.A. Guy Pearce, and Hugh Jackman. Jackman is probably the best choice out of that lot. He has that generic look down. In the British arena, you have everyone including Jude Law, Orlando Bloom, and Clive Owen. I've heard rumor of a Black James Bond, and if they are going that route I'd like to nominate Colin Salmon.

So anyways, rest assured a new Bond will be made. Whether Bond will be Black, redheaded, a chinese jet pilot; or the movie will actually have a plot, remains to be seen.

Jon and I watchedEternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind last night. In a nutshell, Jim Carrey is at the end of a relationship with Kate Winslet. He finds out that she has gotten her memories of him erased so he has the same procedure. The trouble is while he's getting it done, he's living in those memories and he realizes he doesn't want to lose them.

There's more to it than that; it's a Charlie Kaufman film so of course there's more. Both Jon and I really liked it. Carrey does a good job, and I'm not a big fan of his. Every one else in the cast; Mark Ruffalo, Kirsten Dunst, Kate Winslet, and Elijah Wood, do good too. It's a romantic movie that has some nice, real things to say about relationships.

Day 7 we went back to Playa Ostional during the day to try to get photographs of turtles. Unlike the previous visit, turtles were few and far between but we did find some. We watched, and I talked with the guide, and eventually it started raining hard. We bought a bunch of beer in Ostional and drove back to the resort. On the way back, we found a local restaraunt (a soda), "Mundo Feliz" (Happy World). the menu was simple, pollo o pescado (chicken or fish). They didn't sell beer but they didn't mind us bringing our own in.

The food, besides fried chicken or fish, consisted of casados ('married', which is rice and beans), and a cole slaw with vinegar dressing (no mayo, thank goodness!). Mmm. Best food I had there.

Day 8 On the way to the airport, Jon got pulled over for speeding. A very nice policia named Jesus patiently explained to me that we could either pay $46 now or $60 at one of the National Banks. Ha! I forked over 40,000 Colones and he sent us on our way. Then it felt like we went through customs 8 times. To add injury to insult, The Stepford Wives was the movie on the flight back to Atlanta. Holy crap that movie reeked!

All in all Jon and I really enjoyed Costa Rica. Most of the people we dealt with were local folks who lived in small towns. Towns in Costa Rica seemed to consist of a well cared-for soccer field, which kind of is the town square. There would be a church nearby, then a school. You could always find a soda, plus a bar or two. I never felt like we were in danger; I suspect the only real crime out in the rural areas would by your typical crime of opportunity. Like I said, when I tried my horrid, pidgin spanish, the local people were very kind and patient with me. Also there were no bugs! Well a few sand fleas, but you would expect in the wet season for that to be a horrible problem but it wasn't! I guess that's why all the frogs and iguanas we saw were so fat and happy.