Happy Holidays!

Happy holidays! I have been meaning to blog for a while now. I keep writing blogs in my head in the middle of the night while feeding Romy, but I’m too tired to actually type it up. Then I forget everything I wanted to write about the next day. I remember thinking one was particularly funny about daytime TV, since I am watching so much of it while I’m home on maternity leave. I wanted to write about how bland and annoying Drew Carey is on Price is Right. There was this clip on TMZ about how a man recently guessed EXACTLY the price of the item that got him up on stage. And then he guessed EXACTLY the right price for his showcase. It was amazing! And all Drew did was blandly stare at the camera. What’s up with him? And he’s oddly obsessed with the military people who come on the show. I don’t like him. I would have screamed my head off if that win happened! I love that kind of stuff. I have a DVD version of the game that I brought to work last year, and I played it with my students. They totally found my excitement contagious. And that’s Drew’s problem. He’s bringing the whole show down.

In other news, I have more cavities. You may remember that I had two while I was pregnant. This actually has something to do with pregnancy, like with the hormones and the calcium and stuff. I hadn’t had a cavity since I was little, so it was quite shocking. Those cavities were discovered at a routine dental appointment, but now I have one that HURTS. And I’m all scared that I’m going to have a root canal. We’ll see. Of course it’s Christmas, so I can’t get into a dentist at least today or tomorrow. Maybe longer. And I’m eating Jelly Bellies to help seal the deal. But like I said, it’s because of the baby. Not my fault. 

In book news, I’m on the final leg of my new novel, officially titles, “Into the Wild Nerd Yonder.” I have to write the acknowledgments and dedication, read through it and see if I want to change anything else. I kind of hate that option. Cause really, I could probably change A LOT, since what I wrote originally was done a long time ago. But you can only go changing things for so long. I’m super stoked to see what Rich Deas, the awesome designer, will come up with for the cover. And I am working on a tagline that goes something like this, “A book about friendship, betrayal, and going over to the dorkside.” Or something like that. What would the correct phrase be, instead of “going over?” Maybe I’ll have some more candy to fire up my brain.

Friends

You have to say this blog title like the mom in "Better Off Dead" says it to the French exchange student. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, nevermind.

So being home with the baby is great, but sometimes I get a little obsessive about checking my Facebook. I randomly decided I wanted to set up a seventeen year high school reunion, because we didn't have a fifteen and I was, ahem, the head of my ten year reunion committee. This would strike anyone strange who ever knew me because I was sort of a nobody in high school. I had my small group of close friends, some outer circle artsy friends, got along nicely with the smart kids in my classes, and remained pretty much anonymous with anyone else. But for some reason I like seeing what everyone is up to. And Facebook has been really fun for that. The funny thing is, as I typed up a database of everyone in my class (yes, I AM a librarian), names kept popping up where I was like, "Oh, that person. I forgot about them. Ug." My class had over 400 people in it, so there are plenty of people to like. But it's funny how, until I saw their names, I forgot about all of those people I didn't like. Oh well. It's not like they'll even remember who I am.

In other friends news, I have this great Facebook friendship with a girl I went to high school with named Joyce, who I wasn't even friends with in high school. We weren't enemies; we just weren't really on each other's radars at all. We write to each other every day, though, and she is helping me plan the reunion. I will plug her awesome ETSY site again here.

And she pointed out the hilarity of this picture of Romy and Tobin and how it looks like a piece from the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. See if you can figure it out.

Blugskjsadkfjha

Holy pooballs I'm tired. So tired, I don't know what to say really. Romy is home (has been for almost a week) and it's tough. It's tough timing everything-- waking, feeding, pumping, sleeping, eating. Today we took her to the doctor for what I thought was just a weight check (she is doing awesome, btw, in every respect) and we ended up being there for almost two hours, having to have her stomach x-rayed *just in case* (nothing there but gas!). I was not happy. Must make sure to eat more. Time to go pump. TMZ is on. I don't think there's a baby out there who watches as much TMZ as Romy.

Burping Romy

Here's a video of the back of Romy's head as Matt tries to burp her. Cuuuuute!


And check out my friend Joyce's new Etsy page:
http://joycebuckley.etsy.com
She's super crafty and makes amazing purses and things!

Romy

Well, um, I had my baby six weeks early, and now life is a whirlwind. Her name is Romy Bess, and she was born on November 1 at 3:55 a.m. after 25 hours of labor. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Since she was born at 33 weeks, she is still at the hospital in the Infant Special Care Unit. She is around five pounds and sooooo cute. Her hair seems to be blonde, and it would be amazing if she stayed a blonde, since I am so dark in every way. She was breathing on her own almost immediately, the biggest concern for preemies, so now we're just working on her eating and jaundice. But she is doing SO well, they think she may be home next week! I can't wait. Just know my blogs will be either a) just as sporadic as they were during my pregnancy or b) all about Romy. Gush.

Antiques Roadshow Part 275

Well, since I am home sick from work today, naturally I am wasting the day on the internet (when I am not sleeping). I found this whole page from the episode of Antiques Roadshow I was on two years ago. You can actually watch the clip, which is hilarious because I hear both my elfish sounding voice (which totally does not sound like that in my head) and my grandma comments (That's wonderful!). Check it out if you haven't already:
http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/roadshow/archive/200604A33.html

Eating, Driving, and Cathair Purses

I just ate so much food. I don’t get why delis have to give so much food. Really? I need a twenty-foot high sandwich and two thousand French fries and coleslaw. It’s kind of gross, but it’s so tasty that I am compelled to eat until I can’t stand it anymore. And I really can’t stand it anymore.

But what I CAN stand is Bravo’s hilarious new show, the Real Housewives of Atlanta. Why do they call it the “Real Housewives?” I have always wondered that. I love Nene and her sass. I am not as fond of the blonde lady and her nasty boobs that are always hanging out of her shirt. What’s up with that?

In other randomness (that’s all I have in me these days), my commute has been getting longer and crazier. I don’t know why the roads are so backed up. Is it because gas is cheaper, and all of a sudden people are like, “Yay! I can drive and sit in my car for a really long, pointless amount of time?” My new thing is getting so disgusted by the backup that I try and find an alternate route and it ends up taking me way longer and is usually so stressful because I get lost. Today was the last straw (actually, yesterday was the straw, since it took me TWO HOURS to get home), when I got onto my normal route and it was the most backed up I have ever seen. So I turned around, tried another route, drove around for a half hour, and then just went home. I then left an hour and a half after I usually leave, and it took me a pleasant 35 minutes to get to work. Grumble grumble. The nicest thing was yesterday when I was going crazy on the road, I talked to Matt and asked if he would put up the Halloween decorations so that when I arrived home they would make me smile. And there they were, and yes I did! Speaking of Matt, you all must check out his blog for a hilarious story about his Southern stepmom and her cathair purse.