bad guest

eating all your food
stealing best chair in the house
I am evil guest

Here’s why you don’t want me to be a guest at your house while I’m pregnant:

1. I monopolize the bathroom. I’m in it all day and all night. And when I’m not in it, I’m very anxious that whoever else is in it is taking too much time because I need to be in it.

2. I steal the comfy chair. When the comfy chair is offered, I will take it instead of politely letting the host keep his throne. I will not only take it, I will hog it, and only leave it to go to the bathroom.

3. I will eat all your food. Any chips you may have, oatmeal, cookies, cheese, pretty much anything I can get my hands on. I will hoover it up and pretend to be sorry about it, but I’m not.

4. When asked what I want for dinner I will come up with a strange and complicated idea, like popcorn and steak with pasta on the side. And then when it’s painstakingly prepared something will happen and I won’t want to eat it.

5. I won’t let you make bacon because it stinks up the house for days at a time and the smell makes me gag.

There are others, but I think you get the idea. So, for everyone who invites me to their house over the next few months, I will say sorry in advance. I am a sucky guest right now. But your hospitality is greatly welcomed.


do this thing right now:
back up all your pictures, files
before it’s too late

I’ve hijacked a computer so that you can all share in my grief: my ibook, which isn’t even a year old, has died. In a few days I will be stuffing it into a box and mailing it to Apple so that they can fix it (thank god for AppleCare) and then in 7-10 business days I will hopefully have it back good as new.

The problem?

The last time I backed up my files, my pictures, etc….?


I did manage to spend THREE FREAKIN HOURS at the Apple Store on the day after Christmas (a level of hell in and of itself) using their magic tools to back up some stuff to my ipod, but for some reason, many many photos – most of the cute ones, actually – refused to cooperate. So they’re gone now. Not backed up, erased. Sigh. The wee one’s third birthday party, vacation pictures… ugh. It makes me crazy that I was too lazy to get that stuff backed up a couple of week’s ago when I had a premonition.

Oh, well. Wish me luck for the next 7-10 days that the ibook can be fixed. Until then I will be stealing time on other people’s computers and maybe borrowing a really, really old mac from my husband’s office, which will be quite entertaining.

I hope you all had a great holiday, and when I’m feeling not quite as grief-y, I’ll tell you all about how we had a successful Christmas with no throwing up at all!

aw, sheet

so luxurious
like sleeping on some crisco
except with static

A few weeks ago I bought some satin sheets. Well, they’re 100% polyester, but they LOOK like satin – all shiny and red and decadent. It took us a while, but we finally washed them and dressed the bed.

The other night we tried them out. Let’s just say my hubby and I were akin to beached whales on a glacier. We were sliding too and fro, with no control whatsoever. Every now and then we would crash into each other and get slightly electrocuted from the static.

In fact, lots of bodily damage has been caused by these sheets. The first night (despite the ice skating effect) went OK. But then I woke up with a seriously scratched ass. Like a little kitten had just gone to town on my booty. Yeah, laugh it up. It hurt. And I still have no idea what happened to my poor ass. Maybe a poltergeist? An errant crumb? Who knows?

Then, last night, once we finally fell sleep, I was woken up by being poked in the eye, yet again. This time, though, my hubby had the presence of mind to partially wake up, blame the sheets, and go back to sleep. I was able to fall back asleep, because I now have a Poked In The Eye Protocol, which only requires me to curse myself back to sleep while I clutch my damaged face. "Stupid effing dumb ass pokey fingers and sheets," etc.

Let’s just say, the sheets have not won us over. They look gorgeous – all shiny and deep red, but they’re hurting me and, you know, that’s not very Christmas-like of them.

Stupid pretty shiny sheets.

snot burn

cute rosy red cheeks
not from sun, wind, excitement
but backhand snot wipes

Man. The wee one has a cold. It’s not really a bad one, except for the hacking when he tries to sleep, but it is causing a bit of trouble with his face.

I just can’t get him to stop the Backhanded Snot Wipe. I realize it’s faster and easier than tracking down a pesky Kleenex, but his poor little cheeks are swiped raw. I lovingly refer to this as Snot Burn. And I guess that must be unique, because I get a lot of weird looks from people when they sing-song "It looks like someones had too much sun!" and I cheerily say "Nope, just snot burn!"

So we’ve been struggling with snot burn for a few days, but I think we will make it through this rough patch. Ba dum bum.

In other exciting news, the dog has stopped shitting on the carpet. Thanks, Santa!

In other, other exciting news, I have not mailed out any Christmas cards, except to my agent and my editor. This does not mean I value my family and friends less. Or maybe it does. Also, I’ve been wondering if, when I finally do send out late Christmas cards, maybe I should send one of those obnoxious Christmas letters. We have had a pretty exciting year, and there are lots of things I’d like to brag about. But then again, I don’t want people rolling their eyes when they get yet another letter stuffed in a Christmas card. Of course, maybe people like Christmas letters and I am just a cynical Scrooge. Either way, I can’t decide whether to do it or not.

In other, other, other not-so-exciting news, the wee one is watching way too much TV lately and I think we’re spiraling out of control. It’s because I’m so exhausted and nauseated most of the time I can’t imagine trying to drive to the playground. And the house is a disaster so I can imagine even less having someone come over to play because they might possibly catch the Ebola virus from one of the bathrooms. So the wee one is watching too much TV, and bouncing off the walls, and it is not cool. I can only hope my energy returns soon so that all of his smartness isn’t completely erased by repeated viewings of the same Blues Clues.

Also, I got my haircut. It looks like this. Very gray and not quite as uniquely sexy as I had planned. Hmph.


very big red butt
can fit down our small chimney
but I can’t wear jeans

we watched Charlie Brown
but all their voices have changed
Linus makes me cringe

shopping is not done
but stores are so crowded that
Santa will bring hugs

first time in six weeks
not a bad sacrifice for
bagels and donuts

neighbor’s christmas lights
quite spirited in the way
they blink. All. Night. Long.


seems like so much stuff
yet when it’s all under tree
doesn’t seem like much

Is it the size of the Christmas tree, or just the size of my shrinking bank account? I’m getting conflicting reports about the Christmas presents this year. I thought we’d really gone overboard, but now that I’ve wrapped some things, it’s like there’s nothing there.

I know this shouldn’t bother me. I should eschew holiday materialism. But I really, really like buying people fun presents. I am not a practical gifter. You will not get socks and stemware from me. If you have gotten anything close to that from me, blame my husband, who is the king of all practical gifting. He gets me stuff like comforters for my birthday – nice things – but not toys; not the kind of stuff you wouldn’t buy for yourself. (THAT was an awkward sentence.)

Anyway, my bank account tells me that we’ve gone insane. Yet my tree tells me things look bleak. I must have lost some bags somewhere. Something mysterious is up. Maybe it is the Ghost of Christmas Materialism trying to teach me a lesson.

By the way, speaking of lessons, I learned a very important one yesterday. It’s not nice to prejudge your car mechanic. After giving me a free loaner car, letting me keep it overnight, washing and vacuuming my car, giving me a sweet deal on my state inspection (it was five months overdue and they gave me the sticker for December anyway), I was only charged $88 for all the maintenance they did, AND they threw in the labor for fixing my blown out brake light for free. I heart my dealership service center. They rock my world and I’m sorry I was skeptical.

Now it is time to stop writing and start eating. The Gestator is hungry and my mouth is full of spit. I have a five minute window before the queasiness sets in. Shit. What can I eat? Whaaaaaaaat? Does green tea count as food?


bunch of little things
perhaps they take a long time
because I was late

It’s 5:21. the car place closes at 6. they have not called me. I still have their loaner car. It takes me 20 minutes to get to the car place. Should I assume that I get to keep the loaner car overnight? I should probably call and see what’s going on. Because 6 and a half hours seems like enough time for an oil change, a state inspection and a replaced brake light.

Anybody care to make wagers on how much this will all cost me? You’d think not much, but if it’s under $300 I will be happy.



santa sighting: done
presents bought: almost all done
driven crazy: done

Sorry for that lame-ass haiku. I’m out of practice. I was going to spend forever and ever writing a terribly clever post but then I remembered I was supposed to go drop off my car at the mechanic’s at like 7:30 and it’s now just after 10 and I hope I won’t be in trouble and that they have not given away my loaner car, though if they have, I completely deserve it.

So, briefly:

Had the stomach flu or food poisoning or something. It sucked big time. Almost had to go to the hospital because I couldn’t get my fever down and even though 101.7 doesn’t sound bad, it is apparently tres bad if you are preggers. I’m better now, though, knock on wood, and have even started eating certain foods again. Yay!

Also, the wee one visited with Santa at the mall and requested both a tractor and a crane which was very shocking as I have it straight from Santa’s mouth that the wee one’s presents are all amassed and though they include an embarrassing amount of things, they do NOT include either of those requested items. Damn. Also, also, we had to wait in line for an hour and half to see Santa. What joyous fun that was.

There’s more, but I gots to run. Please, volvo man, be nice to me.


oceans of own slime
drown your tongue in crashing waves
this is fucking gross

I am so out of it. And as soon as I seem to be feeling a little better I have to go spit. Why? Because I’m having a problem with excess saliva. Who knew this was a pregnancy thing? It’s disgusting. My mouth is constantly filled with gobs of spit, that if I swallow, I gag on. Nice, huh? TMI? Too bad. My only hope is spitting like a baseball champ. I spit in the trash, in the sink, in napkins, paper towels, even once on the pavement in the Target parking lot. The wee one was tres impressed.

Right now I’m trying Jolly Ranchers to see if that helps. It at least flavors the Spit of Doom. Other than that, I have no way to fix it. My doctor helpfully suggested carrying around a spit cup. That sounds like the fabulous new accessory every attractive woman needs.

Urgh. So if I’m not blogging a lot lately, it’s because I’m trying not to drown in my saliva, or at least hork it all back up.