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March 2005
Next month:
May 2005

Dreams, Spoons & Pimpage

I am officially obsessed with my baby's sex. Even though it will be another four or five weeks before The Big Unveiling at the ultrasound, I cannot stop thinking about it. ("It" being the presence of a penis or a vagina and the answer to this question: Will I one day ruin all other women with my perfection in the mind of my son...or will I be the one woman my daughter fears turning into more than anything on earth?) Last night I dreamt that someone gave us a jar of powder to sprinkle on my belly. If the powder turns blue, it's a boy. Pink, a girl. All very logical and realistic, as is so typical of my dreams. The power turned blue, and then the dream took a much more sensible turn when I went to work and found that my office had moved everyone's offices around and wouldn't tell me where mine was. (This could be stemming from my current anxiety over the fact that there are NEVER ANY PLASTIC SPOONS IN THE OFFICE KITCHEN ANYMORE. For the love of God, restock the plastic spoons! I brought pudding!) ************************************************************* Okay, I wrote all that many, many hours... Read more →

A Post That Will Put Me On Social Services' Watch List

Hello! I have not updated since LAST WEDNESDAY. This makes many of y'all VERY MAD. And I am only VAGUELY SORRY. Actually, I blame daylight savings, which stole a precious, precious hour from me (and me PERSONALLY) this weekend. An hour that I totally planned to spend writing, so direct your anger accordingly. I actually was planning to do a photo essay this weekend about my Changing of the Closet Ritual, wherein I pack up winter clothes and haul out spring and summer clothes and curse over how nothing fits and then kind of gross you out by revealing just how many items of clothing I own. (Judging by the fourteen piles strewn across my bedroom: approximately 5,672.) But here's the thing. My summer stuff still FITS ME. Me, the PREGNANT VERSION. Apparently I put on a little weight last summer, and coupled with the fact that last year was The Year Of The Lowrise Waistband, As In So Low Your Pubic Bone Is Visible, all my shorts and skirts hit below the belly and still fit. So how could I do a photo essay of anger and rage at the INJUSTICE of it all when I was able to... Read more →