So, there is a baby in there despite my inability to feel anything yet. We had another ultrasound yesterday AM and were able to count the requisite numbers of fingers and toes, which was cool. I asked if the baby had the important finger. I am assuming yes.
Sunday, my friend (interplanet) Janet helped us move everything from my office/the baby’s room on the second floor to the basement spare room/my new office. When I saw “we” I mean Mark since I did almost nothing and then ended up with a migraine in a dark room for the rest of the afternoon. I rule! It was kind of sad to see my little office being dismantled. I mean I am happy the baby will enjoy the room, but I will miss it. I had all my craft supplies/crap/computer in there and now it is empty. The impending gigantic life change scares the shit out of me at different intervals. This was one of those times. I am so fickle. I like change and hate it at the same time.

Did anyone else think that the new ladies GAP ad was actually an ad for feminine protection? Lots of close ups of crotches and bums.
I just had to say it.

Today I made pickles. It was a busy day since we had to dig them up first. How did pioneer broads do all this domestic crap? I am bagged!

12 jars of goodness. 7 carrot and 5 beet.

I had to boil down the headbeets before picklin’ them.

Why yes that is me reading the STAR with a beanie baby on my head.

Snoozing on Mark’s lap while watching teevee.
Beets are a sonovobitch. After peeling and slicing them I look like I have been shot. Good thing I am wearing my gardenin’/picklin’ shirt. No pics tho since I look craptastic.
I know, a weekend update!

Any many more of my greatest hits available here on jennui.
So, it is Friday. Most of you are already gone for the day. Mountain Time zone is a pisser. Most of you are already having a Friday night beer or dinner or some such thing. You are out rocking the Kasbah in some way while I am still sloggin’ the dog. The Californians are still around somewhere, but are probably too depressed about the recall to chat or post.
Mark and I are going to our friend Janet’s for dinner tonight. It is a nice treat since I hate cooking on Friday nights. I am usually spent from sitting on my ass at a desk all week. Work has actually been quite busy preparing for a University Open House and Reunion weekend next weekend. I suspect the rest of this weekend will be some napping, perhaps clearing some debris from the baby’s room/my office, some sewing, perhaps some pickle making. I need to get the canner from my mom. I am pickling beets and some carrots from my garden.
Other news, is that we are meeting with a Doula in a week or so. I am hoping that having a birth coach will make me less scared out of my freaking mind about giving birth to this thing. THAT I STILL CAN’T FEEL. Not that I am bitter.
If you aren’t busy, come over Sunday and help me chop beets.

Hasn’t technology advanced to a point where they can create headphones that make it impossible for me to hear your 1) Indian music, or 2) Eminem, from three bus seats away?
I am also pretty sure that no matter how bad your cell phone reception is, you needn’t talk so loud to your friend on the phone about HOW WASTED YOU GOT ON A WEDNESDAY NIGHT at volume 11. No one thinks you’re cool. Seriously. We are all mocking you.
I love public transportation. I am hugging a tree on the way home from work after I gag on all the perfume the chick next to me was wearing.

I am just off to bed after a grueling couple of hours sewing. I am going to blame pregnancy because I can, but this “very easy” pattern had me a bit baffled. I made a jacket that I am too lazy to link to, but I might put up a photo when it is all finished. I still need to put the buttons on. All I want to do is lie on the couch 24/7. Forget work; forget cleaning out my office to make it into a baby’s room. I just want to drink my diluted limeade and flip from channel to channel scorning the people who might be enjoying Performing as… . I am a sloth. Or at least I want to be. By the way, when the hell is The OC on? I missed it this week. I have to cut down on my FOX, seriously. When i start watching more than the Gilmore Girls on the WB kill me.
And doesn’t espionage sound like something that should have more to do with sex and perhaps bondage? I am always disappointed when I read stories about people suspected in espionage and there is no black leather or handcuffs involved.
I should also mention that when my major in University was Clothing and Textiles for almost half of my degree before I switched to Communications. The collar procedure was baffling I tell you, baffling. Very Easy my ass.
p.s. It looks like the OC was pre-empted this week by baseball or something. WTF?

I will be surprised if someone doesn’t smack me before I am done work and on maternity leave. Although it might be more likely that I hit someone. My patience is thin as best these days. I want to tell everyone who comes into my office and asks for something to fuck off. I hope it is just pregnancy and not a personality shift where I hate everyone. It might be a bit of both.
I did follow doctor’s orders and didn’t come into work yesterday. I did some errands and went to the diabetic clinic, which I do every second Monday. There is never really much new there. The doc looks at my sugar levels and my insulin dosage and tells me I am perfect. More or less anyhow. I still don’t feel the baby move, and I hope that happens soon. I want reassurance that the little bugger is in there.
I did forget to tell y’all a funny thing that happened last week while I was helping my gimpy brother with my nieces. I was sitting on the floor with Niece 2, my 3-year-old niece. She was staring at my boobs. I mean who wouldn’t? They are huge. I said, “yes, auntie Jen has big boobies…. and this one (pointing to my left boob) is bigger than this one (indicating right boob)”. Niece 2 wordlessly examines both boobs and after what appears to be much thought gives my bigger left boob a good punch. I was startled, and my brother scolded her, but thinking about it now, perhaps she was just trying to help. Unfortunately, the punch didn’t do much. My left is still a lot bigger. I am not sure that pregnancy could render me much less attractive at this point anyhow.

So, Mark and I were thinking of pitching our own new show to FOX or the WB called “The OG”. It would revolve around the life and loves of people working and eating at the Olive Garden. Who’s with me? We just need to figure out some reasons to make the characters nearly naked a lot of the time.

A Scurvy Dog no doubt.

There are things that I would like to blame and being pregnant but cannot in good conscience and other things I can thankfully and unequivocally blame on the growing fetus. Here is a short list.
Things I really can’t blame on being pregnant.