Okay, so I haven't blogged in, um, forever. Interesting that the baby development ticker restarted. Yes, that is what it did. I am NOT pregnant again, for any of you possibly confused people. So... here's another ticker so you can follow James.
Can't believe he's already almost seven months old! :)
Found this online and decided to post it. Since I rarely get around to posting, I figured why not use this? It gives a decent update on baby, plus it's got the sarcasm I'd be dragging out right about now anyway (I swear, if one more person asks me how I'm feeling...) So if you wanna know how everything's going, just check back here every week or so.
(By the way, anyone can feel free to buy me the t-shirt that says "Rub My Belly & Be Destroyed" from here).
I received a phone call at work, which I did not pick up as I was at work. I actually didn't even realize I had gotten a call until I slipped my cell phone out of my pocket underneath the desk to sneak a peek at any possible text messages I may have received. We're techinically not supposed to be using our phones at work so I don't very much, but considering how everyone including the manager and the owner use theirs all the time, I feel vaguely, if not falsely, justified somehow. Excuse me now while I jump off this cliff behind these other people.
In any case, my little electronic straitjacket informed me that I had One Missed Call and One New Voice Message. Since there really wasn't anything else to do at work, I listened to my One New Voice Message. According to the message from one Talisha!, my husband and I had received a Free Gift! from Pink Apron Preview! and would I please call them back at 1-866-255-7776 to speak with them about claiming my prize!
Stealthily slipping over to the office internet computer, I googled "Pink Apron Preview" and was given links to several discussion board/blog sites which contained comments and speculation by other Pink Apron Preview prize "recipients." I even discovered that www.pinkapronpreview.com is a real website with real pictures and real customer testimonials that seem to have been written on cocktail napkins by diazepam-ed ladies who were threatened with never seeing their precious little Fluffybelle ever again if they did not write something nice. I dug into my pocket for my roll of Tums as I clicked off the page.
Later that day...
While on my way home from work, I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket (I'd forgotten to take it off silent mode). Thinking it was my spouse or a sibling, I pulled it out and checked the number. I recognized it as being the number I had been asked to call earlier that day by Talisha! so I could claim my Free Prize! As it had been a rather boring day at work, I felt up for some amusement and so I answered. This time I spoke with Sandra! who wanted to make sure that I had received the previous phone call from only three hours earlier.
Sandra!, speaking rapidly so I am unable to get a word in edgewise and absolutely must listen or hang up, continued with her spiel, "Good afternoon, Mizz MacDonald! how are you today!? I'm Sandra calling from the Pink Apron Preview and I just wanted to let you know that you and your husband have qualified for our Deluxe Vacation Travel Package! which is a three-day/two-night accomodations at your choice of three locations!: Paradise Island Harbor Seaside Sunset Beach Relaxation Holy-Sweetness-Batman Resort in the Bahamas, Aquamarine Beach You-Don't-Wanna-Be-Near-This-Place-During-A-Hurricane Hotel in Cancun, or the festive-sounding Fiesta Casino and Rat Hole Resort in Costa Rica*." *which, incidentally, is now a DoubleTree "Now what do you think about that, Mizz MacDonald?"
I'm not sure why I felt like prolonging my torment, but she kept asking things like, "Now wouldn't you like to hear more!?" and "Aren't you excited!?" I got the feeling she was used to speaking with ditsy, disillusioned young brides who were just so excited! that they qualified for a free trip! and replied with enthusiastic affirmations. My responses were probably nothing like what she was used to. I spoke with clipped, curt, and absolutely emotionless tones, saying things like, "What more did you want to tell me?" and "Would you tell me what the catch is and don't say there isn't because I know there is." I could tell that I'd dragged her out into uncharted waters and imagined her rapidly flipping through the employee manual, desperately searching in vain for the "correct" response to my "incorrect" answers.
I finally ended the torture by requesting that they not call me again and if I have any interest at all, I will contact them. Grasping at what were probably familiar phrases which she now recalled from her role-play training sessions, she offered give me their website address so I could see what they were all about! and access more information about this great offer! I merely repeated that I did not want them to contact me again and if I were interested I would contact them, adding that I already had seen their website and knew the address. She asked if I had already spoken with someone about their offer. No, I said,... I'd googled it.
So I finally gave in to the browbeating of Xanga to try the "New-and-Improved" personal page. I couldn't figure out for the life of me how to post a new blog entry. So I left and returned to the safe and comfortable homepage I know and love... never to return again to the unknown.
So the Ossipee Library is where it's at... "it" being internet access. I discovered, much to my delight, that one can reach the library within about five minutes by walking down the train tracks that run past my house. Mayhaps I'll actually be able to blog more. Not likely, but it's a possibility. I am a little annoyed because I specifically requested computer #10 so I would be back in my own little corner, undisturbed by others. However, no sooner do I sit down and start logging onto various email and blog accounts than two people sit down at the computers to my left. The closest one being a rather dirty and hairy old man, who smells like he hasn't showered since the Reagan administration and has probably just finished smoking about five cartons of Lucky Strikes. And he's coughing in that really disgusting smoker's way. You know the kind: full of phelgm and so intense you suspect the late stages of TB. Oh, and he's coughing into his hands. The hands that are at this very moment manipulating the keyboard and mouse... at the public library! I'm gonna start carrying Clorox Wipes with me, I think.
Normally I'm not such a germophobe, but it's interesting what pregnancy will do to you. Having such a direct responsibility for another human life can really make you more paranoid about what you're exposed to than usual. I'm not saying I'm turning into the illegitemate offspring of Martha Stewart and Danny Tanner. I'm just a little more careful now that whatever affects me also affects my baby. I used to eat things that had been dropped as long as you couldn't see anything ("You can't give that to him, Terry! It's got things on it!" "That's all right, Mrs. Fawlty. What the eye don't see, the chef gets away with.") and if it fit under the Ten Second Rule. Now I give it to the cat or throw it away.
On a totally random pregnancy note, you know how you hear about weird cravings and all that? Well, I haven't had any of those I-MUST-have-and-I'm-sending-hubby-out-at-3am-to-get-some-NOW cravings, but for some reason, Coca-Cola tastes soooo good! I don't know why, but the flavor is like sweet nectar of the gods... *sigh* but I'm being good and not drinking lots of it. Dang, but it's good! Mmmmmm...
Okay, well, I've gotta get going. Starting to feel hungry (like I always do, nowadays), my back's hurting* from the stupid cheap office chairs supplied by the library, and the coughing guy is really starting to make me feel gross. I really need to go wash my hands now. Ewwww!
