the lame name game

Remember when you were like 8 years old and the boys used to think it was so funny to call some one a RENARD?

Well, I met someone today whose name actually IS Renard. OMG! How unfortunate is that? I had to stifle the urge to ask if school kids everywhere make fun of him.

What's the LAMESt name you've ever heard??? Has to be some one you actually met.

raving lunatic drivers

Ugh. Why am I such a magnet for all those friggin bastards who feel like their damned errand or job or ego are more important than MY safety and sanity?

I know it comes with the territory of having a nearly hour long commute for work, but I swear I attract a disproportionate number of nut-jobs on the road. Today on my way home from work some creep is his BIG AZZ Chevy SUV (I don't know what model) tailgated me for like three miles so close that all I could see was his windshield. Well, that and all the hairs on his face. I swear I could almost read his lips he was so close.

Then what does he do? He passes me on the right hand shoulder of the road, as we approach a stop light that was RED! He flew past at least three people in front of me as well. That he did not get slammed by a car coming across the intersection had to be an act of sheer mercy by a good and gracious God who took pity on the idiot. I was so mad that I laid on the horn and gave him the bird for like a full 60 seconds. Really productive and mature, I know. I was just hoping to drive past him pulled over on the shoulder with a highway patrol writting out a ticket.... maybe in his next life. With karma like that, he destined to be the guy who cleans up vomit at ahospital or something.

What doesn't come across in writing...

So, judging from the commentary on my last blog entry, I totally didn't convey the right message about my changing pregnant body. Just for the record, I am not ashamed of it. Nor do I really mind anything that anyone says about it. :) And that part about my butt, that was a joke. It has been said, yes, but that was a joke too.

Maybe I should have said "*snort* I have no belly button! :) " Cause that's what I meant.

It's fun to watch these changes happen. If I didn't think my big azz belly was phucking FANTASTIC, would I put it on the internet? I love that it's big, and round, and the skin is starting to stretch and itch and tingle... (I'm grossing you out now, no?) I mean heck, my DAUGHTER is in there! :) (see the smile? that means I'm having fun with y'all.)

Speaking of baby.
This kid is going to be a track star or something. I mean, given the circumstances of her conception, we know she's determined. But she is also extremely active. And I love feeling her move. You can even see my belly move on the outside sometimes.

When she moves, I feel like it's our own little conversation. Like the other night. S. was on the phone and I was sitting on the couch (where you're most likely to find me any time between 6PM and 6AM these days). She wasn't moving much. But then, S. started talking very animatedly and laughing at something in the conversation. All of a sudden she sarts rockin' & rollin'! It was like she was saying "Hey, mom. Is that dad making all that racket?"

She also likes to move a lot when I'm driving. Or rather when I stop. As long as we're driving, she's mello. When I stop at a stop sign or get stuck in traffic of the freeway, she starts doing her little jig again. I always wonder if that means she's going to be one of those kids who (like the Bean) falls asleep the minute they get in t he car. OK, who am I kidding-- I fall asleep the minute I get in the passenger seat too!

OK, one last thing about bebe girl before I bore you to death. (It's a risk I'm willing to take.)
Poor child is already being brainwashed. I can't help it. She's not even born yet and has already been exposed to hundreds of hours of U2 and Air American Radio. I can't help it, I swear. With the exception of one really good CD of all "girl punk" all I listen to anymore is U2 (those two tid-bits in themselves may tell you that all is not right in my little universe) and the morning programing on Air America, NPR or KPFA Pacifica Radio (Stephanie Miller always makes me laugh; even on "I hate you because it's 8:00 am and I've been driving for an hour!" mornings.) Ah, some good 'ol liberal radio! There's nothing like liberal-commie-pinko-queer-folk-tree-huggin'-granola-hippie-freak radio to start your day!

Heh, my dad won't even ride in the car with me. :) Sweet revenge I tell ya, for all the years he forced friggen Rush Limbaugh on me & my sister.

BTW, did you hear that Neil Young recently recorded a 10 set album of protest songs, including "Let's impeach the President!" Shocking, I know. Who would have imaginged Neil Young singing a protest song?

well, anyway. End with a tangent. That works.

I have no belly button

So, I'm officially big enough that my belly button has all but disappeared. So far pregnancy commentary alternates between "Wow, you're five months? You're so tiny!" and the more frequent "Oh my gosh, you got really BIG!" with the occassional "you're butt got a lot bigger too..." thrown in for good measure.

S. mostly just shakes his head and goes "you're really pregnant." That and gropes my ginormous breasts. (Keep in mind "ginormous" for me would be comfortably petite for most of you.)

So, anyway, here is belly journal #2:




















More picture fun:
Go see our photosite album at http://anneshaneandnathan.photosite.com for some cool pictures from the Magnum PI party and the most recent house construction pictures including the house foundation and the ICF "LEGOS" we're using for construction.

That's entertainment:
Failure to Launch should be called "Mathew McCauneghey looking hot in a movie that is otherwise somewhat on the lame side."

OK, Mr. M. aside, the movie is just not that great. Ganted, there are a few highlariously funny moments (like when his dad is in his "naked fish room"), but otherwise they are mostly attributed to the character of Sarah Jessica Parker's manic roomate. The girl's main story line is that she's this borderline maniacal chick who is out to get a gawd-damned mocking bird who's disturbing her sleep. She is snarky and bitchy and pretty much the funniest part of the movie.

SJP did a pretty good job too. I mean, after umpteen years as "Carrie" on S&TC, it would be easy for her to just reprise Carrie over & over again. I liked her in this role even though, overall, the character isn't very compelling.

Finally, I have to wonder what the hell was up with the dolphin at the end? Were they trying to suggest that the dolphin, and all the other animals who randomly attaked Mr. M's character, were really the spirit of his deceased girlfriend Amy trying to tell him to get a life and move on? Cause if so, that was a seriously cheesy and extraneous bit of lameness that this movie could do without.

On the other hand, I took the Bean to see Ice Age 2 esterday. Not as stellar as the first one, but definitely funnier than Failure to Launch.

Moke, the wonder dog.

Or not. She may actually be Moke the Mental dog.

So, in addition to ATTACKING the back of the couch when a shadow had the audacity to pass across it and valiatiantly defending my very life against the Buddah statue on my front porch, she seems to think that simply having her nose in the general vicinity of the grass means that she is on the grass and therefore should go pee. I tell ya, all the other border collies are gonna diss her for ruining the reputation of "smartest dog on earth."

Energy Star rocks my world
I am sick. I have a sick, twisted love of household appliances. Ifrigginlove the appliance department in home stores. I read appliance catalogs cover to cover. I scan appliance dealers' web sites "just in case" there is a geat deal. The home appliances page on Craigslist.com is in my favorites list.

My appliance lust came to a climax (so to speak) last week when my BRAND SPANKIN NEW FRONT LOAD WASHER & DRYER were delivered. (Cue the celestial harps & trumpeting here.) They're beautiful. They're white with faux silver accents. They're Frigidaire, #3 on Consumer Reports' "best buys". (Ye, again, I AM that big of a dork.)

They were delivered while I was at a doctor's appointment, so S. unpacked and started the hookup for me while I was out. When I got home I finished hooking them up and the next morning I smugly hauled my overflowing laundry basket the washer and loaded in the dark clothes. I gloated to myself as it hummed through the wash cycle and purred through the rinse cycle. The near silence was golden.

Then triumph turned to tradgedy as my beautiful new appliance bagan violently shaking and proceded to dance across the floor and crash into it's lovely drying companion!

We did everything the troubleshooting guide in the Instructions for Use told us to. We adjusted the load. We balanced the machine. We leveled it to withing 1/32 of an inch! And still it's seizures continued.

All hope seemed to be lost, when we FINALLY discovered that there are four, six inch-long shipping bolts in the back that have to be removed and replaced with hollow plastic plugs. The weight of the bolts throw off my oh-so-delicately crafted appliance, thus causing the bizarre violent shaking motions.

So, here I sit, smugly "listening" to the absence of washing machine noises as it whirs it's way through the spin cycle. All is right in my messed up little world again. :)

Chorus Line

Frogs
It's been raining for a few days here, with intermitent sunshine now and then. Whenever the rain starts up, it's like a frog chorus outside. Or maybe a toad chorus. I don't know-- I can't tell from the craok... I mean I know I'm supposed to be this enviromental hippie chick, but really I don't have an ear for frogs. Or toads.

But anway, it's really weird. They'll go nutzo singing their little horny-frog love song for a while then suddenly, like their all have their little toady watches synchronized, they stop. When they're at it, it's so luad I can hear them inside with all the windows closed.

Not that I'm complaining. I could be listening to some azz-hole on a motorcysle race up the street, or some other fun urban night time sound. If all I have to contend with are love struck frogs and a few woodpeckers, we'll call it good.

I HATE waking up to a messy kitchen.
My husband laughs at me because I sometimes clean the house at random, and admittedly, illogical moments. But when I've got the time and it's got the dirt, I say it's a match made in heaven. For example, I have a habit of cleaning the toilette at night. Late, like 11PM or so. But here's the thing: What better time to do it? I mean, after you clean the toilette, you have to leave the brush in there to dry so you don't get gross toilette water dripping everywhere, right? And at that time of night, no one is going to be using the toilette for at least a few hours, right? See, perfect time.

But what really gets me is the kitchen. It annoys me beyond all rationality to wake up to a dirty kitchen. I mean, who wants to try to make breakfast when there is a sink full of dirty dishes? So I like to clean the kitchen up at night before bed if it hasn't been done earlier. Again, he laughs at me. He thinks running the garbage disposal at 11PM is weird behaviour. Um, if you would help me keep the kitchen clean I wouldn't HAVE TO run the disposal at 11PM!

So, imagine my joy when S. came home this evening and started cleaning up the dishes that had accumulated all day. Keep in mind that I was at work all day, so the dishes were all dirtied by him. (Why on earth he leaves things all day instead of taking the 5 minutes at each meal to clean dishes is another topic.) Don't get me wrong, I'm not ungrateful for him doing those dishes. But when he did the dishes, he only did the dishes. He left gooey spills on the counter, water puddles from the dishes, crumbs and spills on the stove, and empty food packages and condiments on the table.

I know this is petty, but WHY DO HUSBAND NEVER COMPLETE A HOUSE CLEANING JOB? They half-azz it and then get their feelings hurt when we ask why they only did half the job. If you were cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, would you only partly clean it? Only sort of clean it?

S. has been working incredibly hard on the house and has had no extra time lately. And I literally mean NO time. I can honestly say that I've been really good about not nagging him about messes during this time. But today was a rain day and he couldn't work on the house. He did some planning and purchasing stuff, but he was at home all day. Not a single thing got put back in it's place and not a single thing actually was made cleaner.

*sigh* I know, I'm being mean and petty and ungrateful. But I get tired of cleaning too. If I left a job half done, it would never get done. It'd just stay dirty forever. If I made a mess while at home and didn't clean up after myself, I'd be the only one to look to to clean it up later.

Heh. Pretty whiney today eh? I know that in the big picture, I'm awefully damn lucky. I mean, he is building me a house, right? :)