Do you remember when potpourri was the big thing? And you could find those heavily-scented bags of sticks and pine cones freaking everywhere, and SHAME upon the household that did not have at least one of those electric or tea-light-powered potpourri warmers?
One time I forgot to dump out the moistened potpourri in the top dish and it grew what appeared to be a lovely turtleneck sweater.
Anyway, I just took the long way to my destination of telling you that this will be an entry of complete mismatched crap, because it seems I cannot string together more than two coherent thoughts this week. In fact, every time I tried to come up with a blog entry, the only topics I could think of were:
- Damn, it’s snowy out there!
- Damn, I’m pregnant! and
- Remember that one time it snowed and I was pregnant?
So, yeah. I’m just going to have to present you with a random sampling of what’s bouncing around in my head these days, and will attempt to polish this pig by slapping the word “potpourri” on it.
He does it! Why can’t I?
Let’s start with some GOOGLEMANIA! Ever since WordPress changed their dashboard format, I haven’t been paying as much attention to the search engine terms that bring lovely readers to my blog. So the other day I decided to check, and OH MY LORD. I have not laughed that hard in weeks, my friends. Let’s begin:
- “what ovaries feel like” I think they feel like GET YOURSELF TO A HOSPITAL IF YOU ARE HOLDING OVARIES IN YOUR HANDS.
- “disturbing jesus” I hear he really hates it when you call during dinnertime.
- “copier boob” I certainly hope you received Worker’s Comp for that.
- “steelers vagina” I fear this involves an iron-on decal of some sort.
- “dolphin safe honey” When the “birds and bees” discussion goes horribly awry.
- “adult diapers in the white house” I’m…for it?
Moving on to “This Week in Pregnancy!” I am now firmly entrenched in Week 30, which means the baby is making it hard for me to eat, breathe, or stay awake past 9:30. I am finding it hard to believe I have roughly 10 more weeks left, because 10 weeks sounds like TOO MUCH TIME! and NOT ENOUGH TIME! all at once. Frightening highlight of the week was when a 39-weeks-pregnant coworker stayed home for two days with regular contractions, only to have the whole business stop completely. She was back at work again yesterday, looking mightily pissed off.
Do not – repeat, DO NOT – tell her she is “glowing.”
We also toured another day care this week. It was nice and not too insanely expensive, but of course there is the dreaded waiting list. They might as well rope off the entrances to these places like they do at trendy nightclubs. Awkward highlight was when one of the caregivers asked the other pregnant woman touring with us if she was “set to pop any day,” when she was CLEARLY not even as pregnant as I am (in fact, she was quite petite) – then, when the almost-certainly-offended pregnant lady responded that she wasn’t due until May, the caregiver came back with “is it twins, then?”
The last tidbit of pregnancy news: I have my first of two baby showers tomorrow. I have that same nervous feeling I had before my wedding showers: sudden embarrassment over an entire event dedicated to people giving me shit for free. I’ve been able to distract myself with figuring out WHAT IN HELL I’m going to wear to this shin-dig, but I think I managed to pull something together that doesn’t involve pajama pants. My only concern is that I really, really need to score a pair of black thigh-high stockings – not because I’m sex-ay like that, but because regular stockings will cinch me in half at this point and HOLY GOD why can’t I find fucking thigh-highs anywhere?! The stockings issue is nothing compared to the issue I’m facing with my next shower, which will take place March 14, when I will be roughly A BAZILLION weeks pregnant. Outfit suggestions, anyone?
Can I borrow that right quick?
Next up: Home Improvement (sans that grating Tim Allen)! On Monday, we finally, FINALLY got the carpet replaced in the nursery and in Brad’s Steelers-themed office, and OH! What a joyous feeling it is to get those nagging home improvement projects completed. Of course, the not-so-nice part is paying for said home improvements, but you’d be surprised how quickly you can save up some cash when faced with the cold, hard fact that a baby is going to come shooting out of your nether regions. The improvements to the office were done at the same time as the nursery because 1) SUPER BOWL! WOOOO!, and 2) the office and nursery are adjoining rooms, and it just made sense. [Fun side-story about the adjoining rooms: they are separated by a door that seems to randomly pop open, even when you shut it securely and wiggle it to make sure it’s latched. I was informed of this last night by Brad, who chose to share this fun little anecdote at 11pm last night before heading up to bed and leaving me alone in the darkened TV room, right across the hall from the Enchanted Door.]
Finally, a segment I like to call “Let’s Go to the Local Weatherman’s House and Beat the Shit out of Him.” When they call for cloudy skies, we get snow. When they call for snow, we get ice. When they call for a dusting, we get inches. And the city doesn’t plow any of it. What the fuck are those jokers doing with my tax money?! Because I wonder about that a lot, as my new car slides through a 4-way stop for the fifth time in as many days. Also, can the workers of America come together in a collective effort to stop coming to work out of guilt when the weather is terrible? Because it’s hard to be productive at the office when you spent the morning concussed in a ditch waiting for the ambulance to show up.
“He must smell MY dog!”
(And bless you if you remember that sketch.)
Alright, Internet. That’s all I got. Have a good weekend, and thanks to all you cool cats who let me interview you!
Entry filed under: Gobble-gobble.