I
just have to stop. I've been sitting here for two solid hours researching
baby changing tables and organic baby mattresses and cribs. Good
lord, ugh. There's so much to know and plan for and it's all so
damn expensive and I hate buying expensive things that won't last
for at least, oh, ninety years. That said, it's incredibly hard
to turn one's back to a beautiful hard-wood handmade Italian crib
at the Baby Town superstore in Reseda, California on a sunny Sunday
afternoon. (But I did it.) Also, sidenote, I was by far the least
pregnant person in that store, and I'm already freaked out that
the things I order won't get here in time and so that means those
ladies are just tempting fate. Some of them were practically giving
birth in the stroller department they were so huge. How can a human
being get that huge that way? I guess I'll find out.
Here's
a freaky pregnant body thing: my stomach's getting bigger, right,
and my doctors are telling me not to eat white bread and stuff,
but we walk two miles every morning so it's not like I'm totally
just doing nothing for exercise. But what I'm admittedly not doing
is lifting weights, yet my biceps are getting more muscular and
lean. What the? Is it that there's some pregnancy signal telling
my muscles that pretty soon I'll be regularly lifting something
heavy? I haven't read about this in any book, but there it is.
===
This
past weekend we were invited to a few Halloween parties and went
to two of them, one of which was Gray's big workplace shindig where
every department in the company went nuts and built a haunted house.
Well, they were all haunted houses geared for four-year-olds, granted,
so the scariest part for me was waiting to see if I'd have a seizure
from all the strobe lights. It was overwhelming with all the children,
although on the positive side I did rediscover my love of free candy.
I'm not really a candy or chocolate person, I'm much more a bread
and french fries person as I've mentioned as recently as ten seconds
ago, to the chagrin of first my thighs and now my babydoctors, but
man when it's in a bucket right in front of me and it's free do
I ever become a chocolate and candy person.
The
second party was awkward, because it was a wrong mix of people.
We drove a long way to Gray's co-worker's house and walked in to
find the guy's teenage daughters and all her friends, and were momentarily
panicked, like, "Where are our people? Will we have to talk
about Chingy and Linkin Park all night?" but then we found
them, and it was still kind of whatever. I say parties are pointless
when you can't drink beer.
===
Gray
and I are consolidating offices, which has been a challenge since
both of us like our stuff and are kind of packrats and now we've
got to fit twice the goods into one smaller space. The first step
was to order one big monitor so that we can hook up both computers
to it (he's a PC person -- for heaven's sake how is our marriage
working?) and get a switcher so we can use just one keyboard and
mouse. The monitor is supposed to come today, and I'm really excited
because I love tracking packages, and according to the DHL website
it's
on the truck and out for delivery! Look, my world is small, and
this is really exciting to me. And if you click on that link, pay
no attention to the price for I did not pay that much. But be happy
for me because editing on that thing is going to be leaps and bounds
better than on a 17". Wow.
===
If
you're an American Idol fan, this weekend's Target ad informed me
that Kellie Pickler's new CD is out.
She's
the one, you might recall, who had never tried calimari and said,
"Cali-WHUT?" and when Simon called her a minx she said,
"I'm a mink?" and her slogan was "Pick Pickler"
and she reportedly blew through her whole show clothing budget in
one week and nobody seemed to know if she was just faking being
retarded or if she honestly was. Gray and I were sitting at the
breakfast table Sunday and I read the ad and said, "Oh, god,"
and he looked at it and goes, "Her CD should be called 'Where
Am I?'"
===
Now
I have to figure out how to get the same friends I've been making
read my scripts for ten years read this new one and give me fresh
notes. Word from Gray is that it's good, and he's my harshest critic,
so we're off to a good start. For the first time ever my mother
hasn't asked to read what I'm writing, because it's horror, you
see, and she had to close her eyes during the trailer for The Prestige
a couple weeks ago while saying, "You can just tell me about
it later." Also, it's awesome that Saw just made $34 million
this weekend, but it's a total confounding mystery how that Man
of the Year Robin Williams schlock is still bringing in American
dollars. What a pile of maird.
Where
is my writer's group when I need them? Permanently-temporarily on
hiatus, it seems. Everyone is this thing called "busy".
Bah.
