things I never thought I’d say

“It’s 95 degrees outside? Wow, it’s a nice day.”

sinking in

I think the fact that we will be parents in three short months is finally starting to sink in.  This is most likely being triggered by that good old nesting instinct and the fact that he’s now kicking so hard that he’s very clearly more than just a picture on the ultrasound.

This baby has nothing he needs except the few gifts we received from my mini-shower with family and a few sets of clothing from family. I’m feeling a little panicky about that.

We haven’t finished cleaning out what will be his room, let alone painted it or furnished it. I’m feeling a little panicky about that.

I want to pack the hospital bag, but it feels seriously ridiculous to do it. And we still need to work up a “to call” list and plan for who is going to be at the hospital before and after the baby gets here, and who those lovely helpful people will get to call. I’m such a planner…and I want to plan, but it’s really a bit early for it. Of course, I’m feeling a little panicky about that.

I’ve still not drawn up any estate planning documents and frankly am not sure when I am going to find the time.  I’m feeling a little panicky about that.

And that whole childbirth thing? Not going to lie. I’m feeling a little panicky about that.

Needless to say, we have a lot to accomplish in the next twelve and a half weeks. I’m kind of hoping that once July hits, things will start to fall into place. We’ll have the room cleaned out by then, we’ll get it painted and furnished and it will be fine. I’ll have a baby shower and shopping trips to get the things this baby needs. I’ll write the packing list and the to-call list and get the bag packed, and write my powers of attorney and such. We’ll take classes and have our tour of the hospital, and I’ll feel better about what’s to come.

And if any of that doesn’t happen or isn’t true, we’ll still get to meet our little boy at the end of all of it anyway. That’s what’s really important here.

like a petulant four year old

I’m having one of those days.

You know the type of day I’m talking about: you can’t get anything done to save your life because that thing you had to finish ended up taking forever, you drive an hour each way to get work done on your car and spend six hours in a town you don’t know only to get home later than planned without the work being completed because the service manager didn’t tell you that he needed both keys with the car in order to program the remote start, you try to work remotely but the wifi connection is so crappy that you keep getting disconnected and are only slightly productive anyway, and you come home to realize that the stack of dishes next to the sink means that it’s your turn for that lovely little chore.

I am cranky.  If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to act like a petulant four year old and throw a temper tantrum.  Or maybe I’ll just settle for a giant bowl of peppermint ice cream . . .

Barbri day four: coming to you wirelessly

I knew that studying for the bar exam from home would present a number of challenges. For example, “home” is rife with possibility for distractions — t.v., movies, music, dirty dishes, dirty laundry, boxes in the spare bedroom that need to be gone through, internet, cooking, more dirty laundry, sleeping, writing thank you notes from graduation, reading non-law books, more sleeping . . .

You get the picture.

Another problem that quickly became apparent to me earlier this week in watching preview videos as assigned by Barbri was that I was tethered to only the spaces that the cord from our DSL box could reach. That meant I was confined to my desk or one end of our couch. I could also have the flexibility to sit ON our coffee table, but frankly that doesn’t sound terribly wonderful. The kitchen table and the bedroom — and even our front porch — were all off limits. If there’s one thing I can say about myself, it is that I am not comfortable sitting in the same spot day after day for hours on end. I need to be able to move around!

So I spent some graduation money for what I feel will greatly increase my comfort: a wireless router. Luckily I got a refurbished one for super cheap online, so I didn’t have to spend much. Now I can download the videos to my Barbri-leased iPod wirelessly, or use my laptop to use the Study Smart software laying in bed.

Ah, freedom. You know, with a fully-charged laptop within a reasonable distance allowing for a sufficiently strong wi-fi signal, of course!

millionaire

You, internet, should be so proud of me. I never thought that at this young age, I would be able say it, but here goes.

I am a millionaire in the only game I ever play on Facebook: Bejeweled Blitz.

How did I do it? Well, it was a combination of thriftiness, hard work and luck. You see, you get a free spin every day, and that has really helped tremendously. I struck it big and got a half million coins the other day. The other half million, I have earned by wasting huge amounts of time playing the game, and then not spending them on “boosts.”

Like I said, you should be so proud.

dear mother nature,

Enough already. I’m sure it’s funny to you to just dump snow whenever you feel like it, particularly over night, but I’m here to tell you that I am tired of it.

If you keep this up, I’m afraid that we are not going to be able to continue our relationship. And let’s face it, that will get awkward. You’re not going anywhere, and I’m not going anywhere. Can’t we just be friends again? Can’t you stop dumping just enough wet, heavy snow at a time to make me late when I don’t know it snowed until after I get up after I hit snooze one more time but then have to take the time to clean off my car so it was really one too many times?

Thanks.

Sincerely,

The Girl Who Cursed Your Name This Morning When She Got Heavy, Wet Snow In Her Shoes As She Cleared Off Her Car In A Hurry

can’t trust that day*

I’ve bent two fingernails back (badly breaking one of them), read the wrong supplemental reading for law and religion, and I left my prescription sunglasses in Ryan’s car on the sunniest day in a week.

Okay, Monday. You win this one. I want to go back to bed!

*Title of post is a lyric from Monday, Monday by the Mamas and the Papas.

things to say

Oh, how my brain has been functioning lately . . . I’ve wanted to say things that are probably wildly inappropriate or pointless to people lately. Where better to share them than here?

1. To the guy who stands on his balcony below ours and talks on his cell phone, when I crack my window because it’s ridiculously hot in this apartment, I can hear every word of your conversation with Jules. Ask her out already, dude.

2. To the girl at the gym who half-asses everything she does every time I see her, you need to kick it up about 5 notches for anything you do to even be beneficial to you. I hope that you’re getting out of the exercise what you want to, but I seriously doubt you are.

3. To the local plastic surgeon who advertises and targets new mothers who are already emotional and insecure about their looks, you disgust me. A woman’s worth is not tied to her body image and you should stop preying on people when they are down. Her family is not going to fall apart because she has stretch marks. There is nothing so beautiful as a new mother and her baby, so can it, pal.

4. To the morning and afternoon traffic reporters, you really need to find a system to be a little more up to date with your information. I hate driving the speed limit and hearing that traffic is backed up because of an accident at some specific location, and seeing nothing when I go by. I hate driving around an area to avoid it based on your information to find out that the accident had been cleaned up some time before that. And I REALLY hate when traffic is ridiculously backed up, but you claim that “it’s a speed limit trip on the freeway.”

5. To Amy Sherman-Palladino, please, please, please write a Gilmore Girls movie. And to Lauren Graham and Alexis Bledel and the whole motley crew, please come back for it. You know the ending of the series was unsatisfactory, and I want to know what happened next.

6. To my law and religion professor, we didn’t like the Howe article despite your hopes that we enjoyed it. It made no sense, was difficult to read, and quite frankly none of us is sure why it was included in the syllabus to begin with. Sorry.

7. To the creators of Just Dance 2, I can tell you that I have no problem doing your choreography in the privacy of my own living room. But your statement that you can “take the choreography with you” and do it in public . . . um, no. I am not going to point at other people and play air guitar when Avril Lavigne’s Girlfriend comes on at a party, thanks.

8. To the guy who parks the BMW in the garage near my apartment building, why on earth are you driving a brand new BMW and living in these craphole apartments?! I’m just saying you could probably spend only a tiny bit more a month and live somewhere you don’t need to wait until no one’s looking to park the car in the garage for fear that someone will break into the garage and lift the car.

9. To Eminem, dude. You won a Grammy. It really is okay to smile a little.

10. To every guy who has purchased and then hung the ridiculous and disturbingly anatomically correct testicles on the back of your pick up truck, you are a moron. That is all.