Archives: December 2006
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I have been MIA because a significant portion of my family was in town, and we were a busy group. My parents, brother, and sister-in-law were able to make it to Paris this Christmas, and then the five of us headed to Amsterdam for two days on Thursday. Sadly, my sister and brother-in-law couldn't be here this year -- we'll have to come up with a way to make up for it next year. Maybe I will spend the entire 2007 holiday fake-speaking in Dutch, because we apparently find that highly amusing. And really, it doesn't get annoying at all.
I loved loved loved seeing my family, and was sad to see them go. The week with them just flew by, and considering how difficult it can sometimes be to travel to foreign lands in large groups, I am happy to say that we managed to not kill one another. In fact, my homicidal tendencies only surfaced when thinking about the biting cold. We did a lot of walking this week (cold!), and it felt good to get out and about (freezing!). It also felt good to take a break from everything and just spend some time with people I love and laugh with constantly.
Also, on Christmas Day, on the way to the airport, I felt genuine kicks for the first time. My mom has just asked me the day before if I had had any movement, and I said I had felt some little flutters and pokings but nothing too concrete. However, at 9am, alone in the train, I got several little jabs that were distinctly different from everything else I had been feeling. Since then, I feel them sporadically throughout the day. This baby must like trains though, because I have felt them on nearly every train or metro I have ridden since Christmas. For now, it's not uncomfortable or anything, it just makes me smile. But I get the feeling that this junebug is a bit of a wiggle worm, so I think I could be in for some seriously dangerous kicks shortly. I am not complaining, though... I love it.
I was also spoiled rotten this Christmas in other ways. I had told my mom that finding maternity clothes here was going to be a challenge, especially for my long-legged self for whom pants are already difficult. Mom picked me up several great ensembles, and after trying them on, I have seen the light. I am 4,000 times more comfortable in maternity pants than I am in normal pants at this point, so her purchases could not have arrived at a better time. I still don't think I'm officially "showing" or anything, but I look and feel as if I have just eaten a big meal at all times.
The other really wonderful thing that happened this week is that I found a new appartment. I didn't want to discuss it here because I am supersticious despite myself; I was afraid I would jinx it. Last week, I went to visit an apartment that I had seen advertised, and the place was absolutely perfect. It's a little far out (towards the edge of the city, near the Bois de Vincennes) but I think that with a baby that will probably be advantageous rather then problematic. It is on a direct metro line to work and to my best friend's house, a direct bus line to school, and another direct bus to the birthing center. It is twice the size of my current place, bright and airy, with tons and tons of light and a generally open feel. It is completely silent inside as well, you would never know you're in a big city when the windows are closed. More importantly, it has a REAL kitchen. A full fridge (a luxury in Paris), a four-burner stove, a real oven, a dishwasher, and a washer/dryer. My current kitchen comes equipped with: a half-sized fridge, a two-burner electric hotplate, and a mini electric oven. This is a huge, huge step up. Also, for the first time in seven years, I will have a kitchen table to eat at.
Read more »I know The Boy and I have our problems right now, but I request he do one small, fairly insignificant thing to relieve some of the stress in my life. It's not big, it's not difficult, but apparently it's impossible to actually do.
He has a habit -- oh God, it's so awful - of singing these two lines from some African song he loves. He sings them constantly, all the time, and repeats them throughout the day. I can't reproduce the words here, exactly (because I don't speak the language) but that doesn't matter. Just imagine somebody singing, at least 40 times per day, "Billie Jean is not my lover. She's just a girl who claims that I am the one." And just singing that one part. Just those seventeen words. Over and over and over again. Constantly. But wait! Then, make the tune be to zouk-like music, and change the lyrics to a language you don't speak. And THEN repeat it forty times. Sporadically, too -- never just all in one go.
So ok, it would bother you a little bit, right? I mean, this is a day-in day-out kind of thing, and he doesn't seem to get why it is so incredibly annoying. Plus, it's not like the song he is singing is even good. It's a bad, bad song and I hate it with an even greater passion now that I have had to listen to those same lines at least 4,278 times.
But it's worse than you think. This has been going on for at least six months, as I firmly remember getting into a little tiff about the whole thing while I was still planning my trip to India.
When I can't take it anymore, I say, "Do you think you could at least change the lyrics? Sing a different part of the song? Sing a DIFFERENT song, maybe? I don't care!" and he always answers, all huffy-like, "Does it really affect your life in a negative way if I sing the song?"
To which I answer, "Yes!!! Good Lord, it does! You MUST STOP NOW!!!"
But he doesn't.
Somebody either validate me (for feeling this is totally absurd and that I am not crazy for not being able to handle it anymore and that he needs to stop) or shoot me. It's an either/or situation here.
Since the day I found out about the little bean in the belly, I have been taking prenatal vitamins. Actually, on the same day I bought the pregnancy tests, I also bought a pack of prenatals. I was pretty sure about the test result, even though I didn't fully believe it.
When I went to the doctor 10 days later, she "prescribed" me the non-refundable kind of prenatal vitamin that all the women in France apparently take. It's called Gynéfam, which I cannot say at the pharmacy without blushing slightly. I don't know why this is, I guess because of how close I feel "Gyné" is to "Gyno" and how close "fam" is to "femme." Every time, it feels like I am buying yeast infection medication, when really I just need extra iron. I really think they could have named it something different -- Vitaplus or Femmevita or something with a little more zing.
For the past few months, the vitamin packages have served as my little time markers, a sort of advent calender for this pregnancy, if you will (just without the surprises behind each window). I've divided my time up according to the vitamin breakdown: each pack has three foiled sections, and the packs are bought in month-long units. I began calculating important dates or events by how many more vitamins I needed: was the event in question just one row away? One full foiled section away? A whole new box away?
Imagine my surprise when I came to end of my third box recently. How did that happen? I thought, and then set out to spend more money on folic acid.
At the pharmacy, I mumbled my request for my Gyno-Lady, and the pharmacist got extra excited. Very happy to sell me vitamins!! I didn't know Frenchies even showed this much emotion to strangers, much less customers! Why the excitement?
It appears that Gynéfam is having a promotional sale, and you can buy an extra-large box of vitamins: a three-month supply for the price of two, or 90 capsules instead of 60. Without thinking, I snagged up the deal and headed out the door.
But now I find myself at home, totally overwhelmed. The sections of this promotional deal are a several vitamins longer per section, and there are five sections in total, instead of three. My previous counting system is completely off, and I'm taking it as a prophetic statement: these next few months are going to fly by. Hell, I'll already be one foiled section down by Jan 3 - the date of my next doctor's appointment. Just one foiled section! That's nothing!
It occured to me, as I opened the pack for the first time, that when I finish this pack I will be almost 13 weeks further along, which will put me at just under 30 weeks. That's about the stage that I consider Really Damn Pregnant, and it's kind of insane to me that a time like that is anywhere on the visible horizon at all.
In the way that only stupid details can sometimes, these damn vitamins made the whole thing suddenly seem so REAL, and that was a fascinating sensation indeed. An exciting one, just definetly not one I'm used to.
Ok, awesome. Tons of suggestions, and they will definetly get me going. I'm calling it the 2007 book list, although it will obviously start as soon as I get my next book. I tried to mix up the order a bit from the order that people commented in, and I'll add more if you think of 'em. My master plan is to take a bunch of books to the used book store, sell back what I can, and then get at least one book, maybe two, off of the list to start with. Then I'll go from there.
I broke the list down into four categories:
- Books I will read and would love for you to read with me.
- Books I have already read but that others suggested
- Books by authors of books I have already read... I'll eventually read these, too, but new authors get priority here.
- Books that were suggested, but that are in French. Since this site is in English, I'll read in English. But maybe I'll sneak a French book in there without letting you know about it.
I'll post a permanent version of the list on the Bookworm part of the site, but here it is for now:
Read more »Inspired by a co-blogger, I wrote another review for Odessa Books. Man oh man do I have a pile of books to write up! I really let that whole scene go, perhaps because nothing has blown my mind quite as significantly as the last book I reviewed (We Need to Talk About Kevin -- have you read it yet? No? Are you waiting for a free copy or something? Just READ IT).
But after today, I think I'll be back in the swing of things. I've been reading even more voraciously in the last few weeks than I normally do, partially because it helps me escape the madness a bit, and partially because my back starts to ache at night and reading is a good back-relaxing activity. I'm sure if I had a television, things would be different, but for now, books are it.
So a few books I have to write up:
My Sister's Keeper
Double Fault
The Shadow of the Wind
A Year in the Merde
Oryx and Crake
I Feel Bad About My Neck
The Glass Palace
With two exceptions, most of those books are only so-so.
Which leads me to my next question: WHAT CAN I READ? I am going crazy because I have not read a really, really good book in awhile. Please give me some suggestions, but I have some constraints this time around:
Read more »Oh my God, what a weekend!
Let me preface this by saying that I was the dumbass that got myself into this mess, I should really be the one to get myself out of it. But no... I bit off more than I can chew, as usual.
I volunteered at work to start tinkering away at the store's web site. I figured I might as well give it a go and see what comes of it, because the next person my boss was considering hiring was asking for 10,000 euros AS A STARTING PRICE. If I get to work at home in my pajamas and get some more design under my belt (while getting paid), I thought the idea sounded appealing.
Until I started getting all twisted up inside because I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DO half of this stuff. And I swear I don't get panicky when confronted with feeling like I can't do something. Not at all.
On Friday, The Boy sat down with me and we had a PHP pow-wow. Who knew coding could be so sexy? He sat for hours, directing me as I copied, pasted, closed parantheses and uploaded files. We are so wild that we worked on the site into the night, and then again, upon awaking on Saturday, we were at it again. Like rabbits. With computers and server space.
All in all, I think I've put in about 20 hours this weekend alone, maybe 12 of which included The Boy, but the site IS actually coming together. My boss wants something by December 15, and Lord have mercy! we might make the deadline. The operative word here is "We" because I could not possibly do this without The Boy's unwavering attention. I am so, so grateful for his help.
So I promise my friends I will be a part of the functioning public again in 5-7 days. I think I underestimated the enormity of this task, but I am going to feel on top of the world when this thing is more or less finished. I can already taste the victory; just a few days away.
I have exams this week, too, which is the funny thing. I think it's pretty clear where my priorities are.
Feeling recovered now, so that's a good thing.
Do you ever get in moods where you just don't want to see people? I just feel like I have a ton of things to do and I am not particularly social at the moment. Of course, it's always when I'm in these moods that people call me the most, or maybe it just seems like it. I feel bad, but I'm just now coming around the bend from the sickness, and mainly I just want to get all of the work I have to do out of the way. I'm focused right now, and I figure I should capitalize on that while I can. When I'm not working, I want to let my brain go on vacation, usually by reading a book under the covers.
15 weeks today, and I can see The Bel is starting to round out. Nobody would know just looking at me, unless looking specifically for it, but I can certainly see a difference. I think in a few weeks' time, things will really start getting exciting. For now, I'm just trying to keep my hands out of the guacamole. I've been taking totally sporadic pictures, but they're dated, so some time I'm going to put together a progressive slideshow. At this point, though, I just feel flubbery -- I'll be happy to move on to the next stage.
Speaking of the next stage, I'm really shocked at how the doctors just leave you hanging around these parts. I had my last appointment on Nov 16, and my next one isn't until Jan 4. That just seems like a REALLY long time to go without getting some sort of confirmation that things are moving along smoothly. And my Jan 4 appointment is just an introductory session with the medical team (although I'm sure they'll find a way to get me naked), my "real" appointment isn't until January 30 (the Big U/S)!
Time always moves slowly when you have a big date up ahead. IT moves even more slowly when that date is almost two months away...
I sort of hate today. First, I woke up with a swollen throat and ears that itched so badly I wanted to stick pipe cleaners down my ear canals. "It might not be so bad, just a cold," I thought to myself, but when I sat up in bed, my head greeted the morning grayness by pounding and pounding and pounding. "Great. Sick. Wonderful."
So I lollygagged getting ready for the day, and I had that sick-in-the-clouds thing going on. What was I trying to get out of the fridge again? Did I already grab my keys? Etc.
I skipped class because I couldn't stand the thought of spending 2 hours in a hot, crowded room. I swear we suffocate every time we have class. I'm not surprised I got sick, sharing germs in such close proximity with 50 other people. I wasn't in the mood to be coughing, sniffling girl in the second row, though, so I just avoided the whole debacle altogether.
Instead, I went to work in the late afternoon and, realizing I had lollygagged a bit too much, I suddenly found myself in a mad dash to get all of my paperwork together for a 17.00 rendez-vous for an apartment. My boss said he would be my garant, this weird tradition the French have of requiring somebody write a letter saying they will pay your rent if you won't. He was cool, he offered to do it before I could even ask, but then getting him to write the letter and so forth was a little time-consuming. But it got done, and I made photocopies, typed up another letter, and suddenly saw that I had to be at the RDV in 40-something minutes.
As I dashed out the door, I got a text message on my phone:
Awesome. I received the message at 16.23, and the appointment was at 17.00. Can't beat that.
I went home in a bit of a fury, and angrily did my grocery shopping. But I got to help not one, but TWO shorties get something down off the upper shelves today, and that always puts a smile on my face.
So then I got back home and suddenly started feeling even sicker than I had earlier in the day. I made dinner and let it simmer on the stove, and got in bed. I think I had a slight fever because I certainly had the chills, and before I knew it I had fallen asleep for two hours. Luckily, The Boy had turned down the heat and dinner didn't boil over.
Once I woke up (at nine pm) I was starving, so I ate and sat down to begin my apartment search anew. It dawned on me that I was getting the beginning stages of a cold sore, further proving that I really had had (still have?) a slight fever. Knowing that cold sores can be stopped cold (hah!) in their tracks if you use a product available at my local pharmacy, I creaked my way down the six flights of stairs at 10.15 -- only to realize that the pharmacy I thought was open until midnight actually closes at 10.00.
So here I am: feeling dejected by apartment blues, with a swollen throat and itchy ears, slightly fevery, and festering a might cold sore.
AND? To top it all off? I get to go to the Prefecture tomorrow to work on PAPERWORK. Which is always my favorite way to pass the day... I have to go an hour outside of the city to pick up something that says I am a good student, and then I have to come back to Paris for my 14.00 appointment. Which I will undoubtedly spend sitting around for 3 hours. Sniffling and wanting to scratch my ears.
I hate, with a burning burning passion, that CBS allows you to watch episodes of their shows online... but ONLY IF YOU'RE IN THE US.
Duh. If you're in the US, you have a television for that sort of thing. Even better, you might have TIVO. If you're not in the US, any program you might want to watch has a 60% chance of being on TV, and even then, it's gonna be freakin' dubbed.
They're just FORCING me to find myself some copies elsewhere...
