Archives: February 2007
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I didn't watch the Oscars, haven't in years. But I am waiting on a phone call this morning so I am stuck in the house for a bit, and I figured I might as well check out Oscar dresses while sipping my morning coffee. My thoughts are:
1. Props to any woman who wears pants to the Oscars. I think it can be very classy, and so rarely done.
2. I was happy to note the presence of a few ladies who weren't rail thin. But then Gwyneth Paltrow made up for that by wearing a dress that drew ALL attention to her stomach and STILL looking itty-bitty.
3. Eddie Murphy has not aged. That is not normal.
4. Call me crazy, but I sort of liked Celine Dion's dress. It was a little 70's throwback-ish, which is always good in my book, and it was just wacky enough to stand out from the rest (it's green!) but still simple. She's not doing much for the lack of waif-ishness, though.
5. Maggie Gyllenhaal and Kirsten Dunst both always look like they're smirking in an inside-joke sort of way. I love the former and the latter makes me uncomfortable.
6. I've always found Djimon Hounsou to be extraordinarily sexy. Just -- oooo, the sexiness. I didn't realize until I actually thought about it that it might be because he resembles The Boy. Am I the only one who sees it?
I am eyelid-dropping tired, but I can't cave this early (20.30) on a Friday night for a few reasons. One, I am just not that old yet. Two, if I do so, I will wake up at 4 am, ready to start the day -- and that is not a good idea because I am working tomorrow (Saturday) on my feet for eight hours. And three, The Little Guy is here and he and The Boy have gone a-painting, but I suspect they will be back within the hour with voracious appetites brought on by manual labor. And then there's four, which I didn't want to admit, but what the hell? I've only got 20% more of the most recent episode of "Grey's Anatomy" left to download, and I can't wait to watch it. There is a specific reason for this.
As background, I would likeput on the record that pregnancy has been awesome to me and I have not been an emotional wreck. Quite the contrary, actually. Things have not been all hearts and bunnies, a lot more so than I let on around these parts, but I at least haven't had any additional issues brought on by hormonal fluctuation or pregnancy-related depression/sadness. If anything, I think the pregnancy hormones have been what have enabled me to march on reasonably unscathed because they seem to do my body/brain some good. Either that, or I am just too spaced out to think hard enough about anything to let it get to me.
Any way you look at it, one can say I have been very lucky. No terrible emotional outbursts, no panic attacks, no days and days of darkness. I did, however, cry -- nay, BAWL -- at last week's "Grey's Anatomy." And get this: I was crying because Meredith's friends were all so WORRIED about her. I was just touched by how much love there was between the interns, and how aware of it Dr. Bailey was but how she knew exactly how to react. Isn't it just incredible how much love we can have for the people in our lives? I was actually sort of moaning/howling; it was that high-pitched sound that comes out sometimes when the crying is so powerful that it takes over the vocal chords. But did you see Cristina's face, and how the others had to hold her back? So much love. So much support. I don't know what the hell that whole experience was about, but I will say that it was deeply cathartic and I felt great afterwards. So I am ready to cry again tonight.
I mean, they were tears of joy. So no worries.
Anyway, so here's the 26 week update:
Read more »I am at the kiosk, buying two magazines (for research purposes, mind you) today. It's sunny, unseasonably warm, and people are (gasp) smiling at one another for NO REASON AT ALL. The kiosk worker, obviously enjoying his work much more now that the sun has come out, says an enthusiastic "4,99" as I simultaneaously plop down a five-euro note.
"Merci," I say firmly and gather up my things, making it clear that I don't really need that 1-cent back. But, having encountered this phenomenon repeatedly over the years, I leave a slightly open window of opportunity in case he should misunderstand my signals. The "Need a penny, take one..." mindset so common to Americans is just completely lost on the French.
One time, I dropped a 2-cent coin**, took a half second to find it on the floor, and then another half-second to decide it wasn't worth bending over to pick up. Call me lazy, but I hate "pennies", no matter what the currency. As I started to step away, a woman tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Mademoiselle, your coin is right there. I saw you looking for it..." So then of course I HAD to pick it up. But Jesus, what good is it going to do me hanging out in the bottom of my purse alongside all those other pennies (which, I'm sorry, I am never going to put into a roll and take to the bank. I'm just not. It is not worth the headache for 1,22 euros)
"And here you go," says the kiosk man, holding out a coin. Damn, I think, They just never understand... I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE PENNY!!!
But I like his smile, so I return one and thank him for the change.
"Oop-là!" he says, "That's a 2-cent piece!" and he frantically grabs a 1-cent piece in exchange.
I laugh and say, "I don't really care about 1 cent, in the end. It doesn't make a whole lot of difference, does it?" I'm trying to be jovial while still pointing out that, hell, this is just a cent, people.
In response, he looks at me quizzically and wishes me a good day.
Ok then.
**I've said it before and I'll say it again: why oh why did they make a 2-cent coin?
I've always thought that if I were a right-wing blogger and I needed a place to get out my ideas, I would buy the domain name elefrants.com or elephrants.com. They're still available, if anybody wants to steal my idea.
And a question for you: what's your favorite animal? I'm serious, I want to know.
I'll start: koala.
Things are looking up, thankfully. For one, I've gotten a lot accomplished in the last 48 hours, and that always improves my mood. For two, things are racing along at work... I think that is helpful as they were dragging a bit last week. For three, I got two packages at the post office, and who doesn't love that?
One package was an exchange from a gift my mom had gotten me at Christmas. She had bought me a new bra, but it was too small and I asked her to get a size bigger. Holy moly am I glad I did! Back pain, begone! It has seriously improved my life in so many ways. I swear I have gained at least a kilo in each breast. And I really didn't need expansion in that arena.
The other package was from my best friend in New York. She's my travel buddy -- with whom I adventured throughout Southeast Asia and survived the India 2006 debacle. At the end of our India trip, we agreed that our next destination would be Mexico -- still reasonbly cheap but right-next-door should we need to escape town quickly. Unfortunately, I will not be travelling for awhile, so when she got the opportunity to head south for the winter, she took it.
And sent me this. Because she's hilarious. With a note that said "Buena suerte."
Read more »My Dad suggested Romulus as a baby name as a joke (I hope). I have taken to calling him Romulus in my head. Poor thing.
I've been a little scatterbrained recently, something which I don't do well. It's sort of getting me down. Hopefully it will pass, but I feel like the last 24-48 hours, I have been seeing things through a sort of hazy wall. I hear foggy-brainedness can be pregnancy-related - although apparently it's particularly severe in the third trimester - and I pray to dear God that this is just a passing phase and not something I will have to fight through for the next 15 weeks. I feel like I am constantly in need of a caffeine boost, that sort of cottony, distant feeling you can sometimes get, making concentration nearly impossible. I am sleeping well and have maintained a pretty normal schedule, so I am a little mystified as to where this is coming from. However, I have been a little sad over the last few days, so maybe it's a physical response to an emotional state, which I am hoping will turn around.
I have a variety of tasks I have to take care of this week, and I'll admit to slacking on a good portion of them already. It's a combination of laziness, disinterest, and distractedness. I think I am normally quite focused, maybe I am just coming down from the frenzy of moving and constant activity, and my brain and body are just taking a moment to recuperate? Let's go with that as an explanation for now. At any rate, I don't have a choice about the work I have to do this week, so I'm going to powerhouse through it all somehow. It will give me the incentive to being extra proud at the end of the week.
Fortunately, I was required to take a guilt-free break from work and responsibility this weekend because C came up for a quick 2-day visit. It's always good having her around... I worked on Friday and then the two of us went out to dinner, but Saturday we spent zipping around town hitting up some of the spots she likes to haunt while here.
She introduced me to the Palais des Thés, which I am sort of ashamed I had never been to before. I don't know what it is about that place, but the set-up or the atmosphere wants me to buy every type of tea imaginable. I much prefer it to the famous Mariage Frères, which usually stresses me out more than anything. I feel tea-shopping should be a calming experience, much along the lines of tea-drinking. Although enticed by the yummy deliciousness of all their teas there, I managed to restrain myself and only spent eleven euros. I made a silent promise to myself that I will finish both teas I purchased before allowing myself to re-visit the shop. Tea can be dangerous in the same way yarn is. You knitters out there know what I mean.
C and I did a fair amount of walking, which was especially exhausting because of the Saturday crowds. I am happy that at almost 25 weeks, I don't feel that I have to slow down very much. It was a beautiful day -- not too cold, not too windy -- and we weren't the only ones to take advantage of it. Afterwards, we met up with Kathypath for dinner and the three of us were ready for bed by eleven. Coming home on the metro, C and I mentioned how good it was to get home at a reasonable hour, how it's better just to have a glass or two of wine instead of a bottle (I didn't have any, of course), and how it will be great to get up early in the morning. I was in bed by midnight, and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. I feel like an old lady, but maybe I'm just a pregnant one.
I'm at a bit of a blah phase now -- both Sunday and today have been a bit of a downer for me. I am not too concerned as I have been blessed with an enthusiasm that I wasn't expecting throughout the majority of this pregnancy, despite a lot of the challenges and fears and worries that it has entailed. If I have to throw in a few sad days, that's ok. I just hope they pass and that I can get back to concentrating on the things I have to get done.
C asked me to put together a baby wish list, which I am working on. Any of you mamas have suggestions as to must-haves?
I've also noticed that my vision is not doing so well. I know this can happen during pregnancy, but it's such a pain. It's especially noticeable when I am on the metro and I can't read the signs at the end of the platform. I'm not willing to go dish out the cash for new contacts or glasses, as I've used up my insurance coverage for eye care this year. Apparently, your eyes go back to normal sometime after birth, which makes it all the more pointless to change my eyewear now. So I guess I am just going to have three+ more months of squinting. I am making an effort to wear my glasses more than my contacts, as I figure my eyes are already straining; they probably could use the rest.
To end on a positive note, I did better than I thought on my Arabic exams, so I have a bit of breathing room for this second semester (our grade is the average of the two semesters' exam results). That's nice, as I am a little concerned about making it to classes towards the end. The finals are pretty much right at my due date, so I may have to skip them altogether and take the exams during the September session. I figure that's ok, as long as I manage to make it to the majority of my classes. I am so much more comfortable in Arabic this year than I was last year, and I think that is making all of the difference in the world.
And as one more positive note - tomorrow morning I am babysitting my friend's 4-month-old daughter. As my friend said, "You can get in some practice." Her baby is adorable, and I am happy to lend her a hand for a few hours by hanging out with the little goober. Hopefully, she'll be a doll and I won't walk away wondering what the hell I've gotten myself into...
I remember having a conversation once with The Boy about the Shettles method, which says there is a difference between boy and girl sperm. While male sperm tends to swim faster, female sperm (an oxymoron, sort of) is more durable, and this Shettles character argues that you can semi-plan the sex of your child by conceiving closer to your ovulation date for boys and further away from it for girls. At least I think that's how it works -- someone correct me if I'm wrong.
The Boy is a bit on the macho side (it's endearing... usually) and very African in that First-Must-Be-A-Male thing, so he said what any normal guy would say in response to this: "All my sperm are fast swimmers. I've got super sperm." In other words: he's got far more boy-bearing tendencies than girls do. Of course he does.
I don't think he's ever lived that statement down. I make fun of him for it constantly (in jest) and amongst my friends from time to time (in earnest). I see him saying it in a superhero outfit, fist in the air, "Super Sperm Man" and so forth.
So the sex of this baby was a bit of a cliffhanger for me in a goofy sort of way. I didn't have a preference either way, but I knew what The Boy thought of his own childbearing abilities. A sick part of me wanted to prove him wrong just to see how he reacted; I know deep down he wouldn't care but would he actually revise his Super Sperm statements?
However, from day one, I thought it was a boy. Well, probably more like from day 60, when I saw the little alien-like life form wiggling around in my belly for the first time. I would catch myself calling it a "he." I had a girl name all picked out, but no boy names, so it just seemed logical that things would fall towards the more complicated route.
At the ultrasound, the doctor asked if I wanted to know the sex of the baby and I unhesitatingly said yes. "It looks like you're having a little girl..." he said to me, motioning to a meaningless blob on the screen. "Really?" I said, a bit surprised. I wasn't disappointed in the fact that it was a girl so much as I was just confused that I had been so wrong! "That's what it looks like," he affirmed, and continued clicking away on his machine while I absorbed the news.
And then, of course, I thought of The Boy and his super swimmers and had to stifle a chuckle.
So that was it. A girl! Over 80% of people who made an official declaration before I found out appeared to have been right, I guess I'm (we're) an easy case to read. Amazing. Almost everybody was right but me...
Read more »I realize this is mean but I can't dish out any news about the baby just yet. I would like to tell a few friends and family "in person" before doing so here, so you might just have to wait a day or two more. I feel sort of scummy doing that -- and I wasn't even going to update were it not for another rather urgent situation (see below) -- so please forgive me for the cruelty. However, the doctor said that the baby is healthy and that I'm/we're growing right on track, which is the most important part, right? Right! It was an excellent doctor's visit and I really love my OB/GYN. I think we have the same sort of attitude towards life, and the two of us get along great. Plus, he's hilarious. I was going to have my next appointment with someone else, but he did some fancy footwork and got me in to see him again. So anyway, just sit tight for a bit, I'll update on the little junebug as soon as I can.
In the meantime, I would like to ask your advice.
My mom bought me a Singer sewing machine as a Christmas present, and I was thrilled, thrilled, thrilled at the idea of becoming a domestic goddess. She also got me a few awesome baby patterns, and I even thought a few of them looked feasible for a semi-beginner like myself. I've been dying to get this apartment set up so that I could give the machine a whirl, as it was just not possible in my former 25m2 closet of an apartment.
Mom bought me an American Singer, as they are far cheaper than their French equivalents (plus: she lives there), and then she contacted Singer about conversion information. Reading it over, I double-checked the converter I had, and all looked good. This morning, inspired by the new square meter of space I have cleared away on my table, I decided to test out the new machine. When I turned it on, all looked good, but then I heard a loud POP and the machine turned off. Clearly, I blew a fuse or something. It's fried.
Freaking out, I called the Singer France store located in the 13th. They are both a store and a repair shop, so I figured they would be able to help me. But apparently they can't - or they won't. Take your pick, as it's hard to tell with the Frenchies sometimes. The lady mentioned something about the warranty not working in France, the fact that the French machines are totally different than American ones so they wouldn't know how to repair them anyway, the issue of course in that even if they DID manage to repair it, they wouldn't be able to test it or know if it was working for conversion reasons, and then to just tie a nice bow around the whole deal she hinted at the possibility that I am a complete idiot. It was exactly the kind of customer service experience that makes me long for my homeland. I am still reeling a little bit from our conversation. I mean, I just broke my sewing machine, lady. Be gentle.
So, my question is: what would you do? Should I bring it in to the Singer store even though they more or less said that the case is hopeless? Does anybody know of some kick ass gadget type in Paris who could have a look at it for me? Is there something I am missing when it comes to conversions? Did I need to get an extra adapter or something (the email from Singer did not mention one)? Do you think - in your expert opinion - that this machine is salvageable? Or should I just spend another good chunk of my rapidly dwindling Christmas bonus on a new machine (keep in mind that my computer is dying a slow but steady death as well... and that I have a baby growing in my belly that is going to want to sleep somewhere at some point)?
I know that a sewing machine could save me a lot of money in the long run, hence why I am sort of anxious to get this problem settled. Plus, I have a friend who is going to India who is going to come back with cheap textiles galore for me, and I can't wait to get my grubby hands on thtem. Baby patterns await! Help!
