Musings

I still want pickle. Just FYI. Lots of pickle. Darn hormones. With Ander, I craved carrots. Apparently, I only crave things without calories.

Oh, and Paca, thanks for the tone deafness infomation. I always insist I'm not tone deaf and that I sing really well, but no one else seems to agree. :/ Perhaps, one day, I'll do a You Tube karaoke so all can judge! (Or press mute or mock. Whatever.)

My sister called. She's already reserved her names of choice. This time, she called to reserve her godparents of choice. Calling dibs when I'm due first? So unjust. Luckily, I wanted neither her names nor her godparents, so it worked out smoothly. :)

I like watching Jon and Kate Plus 8. Alan and I are sooooo much like that.

Oh, and we finally cleaned off the kitchen table. It still had all Ander's gifts from his birthday (yep, over a month ago) and Easter! Boy, do we ever have a lot of Easter candy!

Off to have another pickle.

Etcetera.

Will Someone Please Tell My Husband...

...that there is nothing wrong with eating a jar of pickles everyday?

Thanks.

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I Don't Need Music

I was driving to my house on Saturday afternoon, after hanging out with Rachel and Zoe. As is the usual case for me, I did NOT have the radio on. I also don't have art on my walls. Honestly, I've never been into music or art. Oh, there's the ocassional song or singer that I like. But I would never purposely put on their CD. I've never learned to download to an IPOD. When I work out, I don't wear headphones. And while I sometimes see art on other peoples' walls and think, "how cool," it not worth the bother to put any on my wall.

So what's with me? What kind of intelligent person ignores music and art?

I just think I don't need it. I assume it fills some space in others' thoughts. U2 plays in the background, and other people get a chemical reaction. I, maybe, if it's exactly the right song, might have a memory associated with it. But few songs evoke feelings. Art doesn't evoke feelings. I think, maybe, I'm wired differently.

Etcetera.

Sleepless Night

Jake visited until 11 p.m. (for a Battlestar Galactica marathon), so we tucked in late anyway. Then it started storming. And wouldn't stop.

I was up all night to the sounds of the wind blowing, thunder clashing, and Alan snoring. This morning, I feel like I didn't sleep all night.

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Something Must Be Wrong

Sometime has to be wrong. After all, it's lunchtime and I've only peed 5 times so far. That's far below my current how-can-a-baby-that's-smaller-than-a-lemon-press-so-damn-hard-on-my-bladder average.

Have I mentioned that I am existing on a diet of pickles and chocolate milk. Yummy going in...and then not so yummy.

Well, off to lunch.

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It's Not "Just" A Dream

I was watching the Today Show, and I almost cried. (Okay, I'm pregnant and hormonal, and that's probably 90% of it. And, no, The New Kids were not performing yet. ;)) They were interviewing Dr. King's kids. Apparently, today is the 40th anniversary of his shooting. And that got me thinking.

Thinking about all the people I wouldn't be friends with, wouldn't work with, and wouldn't know...if segregation was still in effect. There are so many people who have touched my life, in part because of Dr. King's work. I thought of not having those people in my life and it made me sad. Everyone talks about what Dr. King did for minorities. But Dr. King did something special for me, a white girl from the South. I hoep people don't forget that part of his legacy.

Etcetera.