Rolly Polley-Oh No-y!!

As anyone who has slept with me will tell you(And I'm sure MANY of you fall into that category, right?), I am a roller when I sleep. In the immortal words of Derek Zoolander: I'm not an ambi-turner. I don't turn left when I roll. Always to the right and ALWAYS taking the blankets with me.

This always results in both of us awakening in the morning with the blankets decidedly on my side and Marcelo freezing his little nuts off with only the sheet to keep him warm. However, for the past 2 months, this has changed. At night I'll start on my right side, and then maybe try to roll to the right and lay on my stomach before I go to bed. But it's not a smooth roll now. I have to make sure that my belly and boobs aren't trapped underneath me. But I'll always go back (turning to the left now! YES, Believe it!) and fall asleep on my right side. Where before I would make a continuous circle to the right and then end up on my right side again, this no longer happens.

Well, I JUST figured out why. Last night was especially bad. We went to bed at 10 pm, and I woke up at 12, 1:30, 3, 5:30 and finally for good at 7. Most of the time I woke up becuase I had to pee, but twice I woke up because I was FREEZING. I somehow had clung to the sheet on top of me, but the two blankets on our bed were nowhere to be found. I now know EXACTLY how Marcelo feels.

It was at my 5:30 wakening when I pulled the blankets from off Marcelo, bundled up and tried to turn over on my stomach. Well, seeing is how I was half asleep, I didn't plan my turn all the way through. I rolled to the right and I almost died. My belly and baby got trapped on the left side of my body while the rest of my body went right. THE PAIN!!! The most excruciating pain stabbed my belly and let me know that neither my body NOR my baby were happy with the decision I made. I had to roll back on my side and breathe through the pain for about 30 seconds.

And then I realized that I'm no longer turning all the way around in bed at night. I start on my side, roll to my back and push the covers to Marcelo's side. Then back on my side, but this time I don't take the blankets with me. Repeat over and over again. This explains why I keep waking up freezing MY nuts off, and why I no longer keep rolling around all the way. It's like my body instinctively knows what it can't do and when I try to override that instinct, it punishes me. AS WELL IT SHOULD!! It seems my instinct is the only thing that's keeping my baby safe.

Anyway, another funny story from last night: When I got up at 3 to go pee, I was sitting there and I heard Marcelo get up. I finished, then he went pee and climbed back in bed. He laid on his back, and I was on my left side curled up next to him. He goes "UGH! YOUR BREATH. Turn over!" and I was pissed!! and I was like "YOU TURN OVER!" And then I realized that he wanted to snuggle with me! I will turn over to snuggle ANY DAY. So I flipped onto my right side and he spooned right up against me with his hand on my belly.

If any of you haven't had a chance to sleep like that in a while. I HIGHLY recommend it. My only regret is that I didn't stay awake longer and enjoy it. I literally fell asleep in 20 seconds. BOOO! Who knows where spooning could've led. . .

Finally, I would like to say that I am thankful I haven't had anyone come over to my house for well over 6 weeks now. Wanna know why? Because my Christmas tree is still up!! Yup, that's what laziness, no children and a separate living room will do for you. I know that lots of you had to take down your tree or face the possibility of your kids eating the ornaments. But I don't have kids yet, and my dog is very well behaved. I think she's actually kind of a afraid of the tree, seeing is how if you get too close it will poke you. And I come in the back door, so I don't see it every day until I go up to bed. And by that time, I'm not going to take it down. I'm on my way to bed, pues!

Anyway, please continue to not come to my house. At least until I take down my tree. And who knows when that will be at this rate. Anyone want to make a bet?

Oh, one other fun pregnancy yet somewhat inappropriate story. When I woke up at 5:30, before I went to the bathroom, I realized that I couldn't breathe. I sucked in through my nose sharply and felt a nice, dry, BIG crusty booger hit the back of my throat. I immediately coughed and SWALLOWED it. In good news I could instantly breathe, but in bad news, I can now be considered a booger eater. Officially I eat my nose jewels. FANTASTIC. Let's pass that info around, shall we?

Another Ultrasound

I had to go in for a second ultrasound yesterday. When I went in for my first one 4 weeks ago, they couldn't see the heart very well. The doctor said that she wanted me to come back again so they could see the heart clearer.

I was excited because that meant more pictures. (Well, not all the way excited becuase it would mean making up another excuse to get out of work.) But I was excited to see the baby again. I was excited to see that it had grown. 4 weeks ago it was less than a pound. I think they said it was like 12 oz. But yesterday they told me it was 1 pound 7 oz. That's it? They why have I put on 40 pounds. CRAP. Anyway, that weight is right on track for where it should be at 24/25 weeks.

BUUUUUUUUUUUT there was a problem! They couldn't see the baby's face. They poked at me for about 3 minutes trying to get it to rotate and face the camera. But my little gusano was perfectly happy to stay nestled with its head facing my kidney in the back. I thought that maybe they were just trying to get a face shot so that we had another good photo. Like maybe they were doing it for MY benefit. I mean, the first set of photos had a nice profile view, so I thought they just wanted a better one of those for me. I should've known better given the surly attitude of the tech.

When the doctor came in to review the pictures, she told me that the heart looked good, and strong I was happy that I wouldn't have to come back again. BUT THEN SHE SAID SHE WANTED ME TO COME BACK AGAIN IN 8 WEEKS!!! WHAT THE WHAT?!?! She said they wanted to check the growth and some other things. I didn't question her, because, well, she's a doctor.

But then Reagan asked me how it went, and when I told her that the lady wants me to come back again, she said, "A THIRD one? Usually you only have one! Did they say why?" And then I felt dumb for not asking more questions about why I should come back again. Reagan suggested I ask her sister in law, who is an X-ray tech too. I thought that was a good idea

I called her on the way home, and she said that I shouldn't be worried. She said there is a list of things they have to see on the baby, and if they can't see them, then they ask you to come back again. She thought that maybe they wanted me to come back because they couldn't see the face and hence they couldn't see if the baby had a cleft palate or some other deformity. That made me feel better and yet nervous at the same time. Well, no use in getting worried just yet.

So here are the three pictures I got from yesterday. The only one that rocks is the first one. It's obviously a foot. (Well, mostly it's obvious because she wrote "FOOT" on it) The others I think they are pretty crappy. Like I said, tThe tech who took them was kind of a dill hole. Whatever.















A good example of her dill hole-ness is obvious in this next photo.


What is that? What was she thinking? I think she was pissed at me that I asked her for two sets of photos. Anyway, she gives me this horrible shot that she doesn't even label or tell me what it's *supposed* to be. A foot? The heart? My cervix? Who knows!! Thanks dill-hole X-ray tech!

Maybe she gave me a shot of the kid's crotch because she knew that I didn't want to know the sex. Like she did it just to piss me off. I wouldn't put it past her. Did I mention she was pretty much a horrible person? Yeah, I think that idea was pretty accurately conveyed.

Well, at least the third ultrasound gives me a chance for one more set of pictures, right? But it will mean making up another excuse. Well, maybe not. My job might know by then. We'll see. I might not be able to make it till then. But who knows. I really just look BIG. Not pregnant, just big.

Oh, that makes me remember. Will some of you ladies that have previously been pregnant tell my husband that while my face IS fat right now, it's just water? I tried to tell him that, I BEGGED him to believe me, but he's never seen a pregnant lady up close (let alone lived with one) so he just thinks it's fat. IT'S NOT FAT!!! I PROMISE!! (Well, maybe some of it is) I just need someone to tell him the truth. I think that I'm going to have my doctor tell him the next time I have an appt.

Let's see how he handles the truth, baby! Have a good Saturday everyone!

I'm sorry!!

Heather always used to laugh at me when I would walk in the office and the first word out of my mouth was "Sorry." But I was ALWAYS late, so I was always sorry. On a weird tangent, I had a high school teacher would always say, "Don't be sorry, just don't do it again." He was NOT a religious man, but I think that could very well be a gospel principle.

Moving on. The reason I'm sorry is that I can't believe it's been a week since I've posted. I'll always look at the blogs of others and be like "WHAT IS THEIR PROBLEM!?!? THEY HAVEN'T PUT UP ANYTHING IN SO LONG!" And look, I am now one of "those" people.

I guess I didn't have anything cool to post, and so I think that if I don't have a good story then I can't say anything. I should start telling embarrassing stories from my youth/childhood/college days. Heaven knows I have PLENTY of those. But Reagan and Judd will have to skim those, I'm sure they've heard all my embarrassing stories. But don't worry ladies, we know more are coming soon. They happen on a DAILY basis. (I would start telling them more often, but most of them involve my pants falling down at work and other such atrocities that no one really wants to think about)

But I had a few things happen to me that I thought you would all enjoy. Well, maybe not ENJOY, but at least you wouldn't have nightmares about them. Speaking of nightmares, that is my first story. I believe it's due to the fact that we are going to be surprised about the baby's sex. But both Marcelo and I have been having lots of dreams about the baby. The other night I had a dream that I gave birth not to a boy and not to a girl, but instead to a real live Gloworm. For those of you who weren't allowed to watch TV growing up, here is what a Gloworm is. I never had one, but I always wanted one. Being poor growing up, however, this was not possible.

So in my dream my baby had no arms, (I guess I didn't remember those little arm shoots from my childhood) no legs, but it was so happy and I loved it anyway.

And then Marcelo had a dream Sunday night. He said that we had a boy, but the baby's head hadn't formed all the way, and it had a hole scooped out of the side of it's head. Like someone had wanted a scoop of Baby Loor flavored ice cream, and had decided to take it from the head.

** Begin Tangent. What would Baby Loor flavored ice cream taste like? I'm guessing a little bit like mango, and a lot like Salsa! Did anyone read those books "Sideways Stories from Wayside School" growing up? By Louis Sacher? And in the first one they had a teacher who made a flavor for every child in the class. Some were sweet, some tart. I just always wondered what my flavor would taste like. I'm ESPECIALLY wondering now what my baby's flavor would taste like. Tangent over**

So if any of you have dealt with Latinos, you know that they are a VERY superstitious people. They don't take dreams lightly and so I was a little worried when he told me about his dream. Like when we bought a pig together when I was down in Ecuador, and it died 6 months later. He didn't want to tell me about it becuase he thought the pig symbolized us and our relationship. See? Superstitious, I told you so.

So I asked him what he thought the dream meant. He totally floored me and said, "Oh, probably nothing. It's just a dream." (Is it weird that I'm a little sad that he's becoming so Americanized? I mean, It's not like I want him to kill a chicken on our back porch and then ask me to cook it for dinner. But I miss the little things that came with him from Ecuador. Sad.) Hoping to get some of that Latino superstition out of him, I asked him if he was worried about the dream. Well, he follows up the comment by flooring me YET AGAIN and saying "No, not really. I think that the dream made me realize that even if there are problems with the baby, we will be able to handle it"

When did my husband become all wise and not crazy Latino superstition guy telling me to cure my headache by pressing a lemon to my forehead? (My husband never said, that, by the way. I got that little ditty from another crazy Latino woman) Well, needless to say that I will have to come to terms with my new wise Confucius-like husband and his very sensible comprehension of dreams.

My second story is, of course, about food. For breakfast, I went to the Maverick gas station and got a nice cup of Hot Chocolate (with hazelnut creamer, of course) and a bag of Corn Nuts. I enjoyed those Nuts all throughout the day, but I've now discovered that I need to eat them with a spoon. They fall under the popcorn/Cheeto's category now: I don't like the residue on my fingers so I'll be using a spoon from now on.

Well, we all know where a bag of Corn Nuts and a hot chocolate led me: That's right, say it with me people. . .Horrible corn nuts breath. Nothing could be done because I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off today without a minute to myself. I kept trying to sneak away and go brush my teeth with the toothbrush I keep in my desk for situations such as these. Well, actually I've never had a Corn Nuts/Hot chocolate situation at work before. I usually use it when I forget to brush my teeth before I leave the house. And let me tell you, that toothbrush is my favorite!! Nothing like having clean teeth in the middle of the day.

But due to the fact that my "get it done" (YEAH RIGHT!) boss was calling me every 20 seconds to fix it things for her, I didn't have any chance to use my favorite pink toothbrush. What infuriated me was that when I told her how to fix the thing, she wouldn't listen to me. So I had to explain it to her step by step very SLOWLY and then when she couldn't get it, I had to go in and do it for her. Yeah, right. ("Get it done" my ass!)

But enough about my boss. I whine about her plenty enough as it is. Let me tell you another funny work story. I had to stop payment on a check by calling Zions Bank. The funny thing is that the check was only for $50, and to stop payment was a fee of $25. But I do what I'm told. So when I called the bank, the lady asked me what the check number was and who the check was made out to. I told her it was made out to "National Republican Congressional Committee."

And then I thought about what if I were trying to cancel a check for something really embarrassing? Like a subscription to "Large, Buff Men Quarterly" or a prescription for "Toe Fungal Salve" or my subscription to licorice of the month. (Jean actually gets that. You may all make fun of her starting. . . . NOW!)

When my brother used to work for the Bank of America people would call in and try to cancel certain charges on their account. Like if someone wouldn't give them their money back, they would try to call and dispute it and say that it was a "fraudulent" charge. So my brother was like "well, you didn't report the card stolen. And it looks like since that charge it has been used quite a bit. Would you like to explain that?" And then they would fold like a cheap suit. Did I mention that half the time he was doing this in Spanish? Good times.

One last totally non-related story (I could go on telling ridiculous non-related stories like this forever) I wear knee highs under my work pants. I don't pull them up to my knee, because that annoys me. So I take that part that cuts off your circulation, and I fold it down and put it right nice on my ankle. Well, when I took it off yesterday, that part had folded on top of it's self and was DIGGING into my ankle. I had like a full on LINE from the nylons. Does everyone know what pitted edema is? Well, that's what my ankles looked like. It was DELICIOUS to look at and touch.

And then today, as I was walking around my house preparing dinner, I felt something "funny" on my lower leg. I thought that maybe my pants were falling down again, but then I realized that I wasn't WEARING any pants. So I look down at my leg as I walk and discover that it's me!! It's my leg fat/lower leg water retention!! MY ANKLES ARE JIGGLING AS I WALK!!! Now, I am used to leg or arm or a belly jiggle every once in a while. But an ANKLE jiggle? Well, that's just depressing. And let's be honest: They are more like CANKLES now.

So, to wrap up this very random post: I didn't have a Gloworm growing up, Marcelo has become wise, I have spent FAR too much at the Maverick these last few days, I subscribe to some sketchy magazines and my feet fat jiggles as I walk. It's been a good day.

And one last thing, I promise, I would like to send a very special "request and dedication" to my two bestest of best friends Judd and Reagan. I am so blessed to have you both in my life, and I just want you to know how much I love you. If either of you ever needed it, I would happily donate a kidney, or a piece of my liver, or one of my eyebrows to each one (or both!) of you. A girl considers herself lucky to have someone in her life that she can turn to at any moment, and I am blessed with two of you. I have an idea. Lets all get matching stretch marks somewhere on our bodies to cement our enduring friendship. I've already gotten mine, so it's up to you two to do it now. GO!

I love you two.

Fussy

I logged on with the idea to blog about some things that bother me as of late. And as I was going over it in my head, it just sounded so FUSSY. Like it made me sound whiny and tired. And while I'm extremely tired, I try to avoid whiny-ness at all costs. Here were some of the comments I was going to whine about:

* The fact that I can't breathe and now my husband won't sleep in the same bed with me anymore due to my horrible pregnancy snoring
* When people talk about things that they know nothing about. They give their opinions like they are fact, and try to force everyone to believe them at all costs. And then get belligerent when that person won't believe them
* Being large and fat, both of which are NOT due to pregnancy, and yet not being able to ANYTHING about it which IS due to pregnancy. And as a corollary:
* I can't find any clothes that fit me.
* I'm desperate for a vacation, but I won't get one anytime soon. This is due to the fact that there is only one assistant here, so I can't leave until she's been trained. And Jean won't consider her trained for at least a year. (I'm not mad at you Lynn, I swear.) I just want everyone to realize that I'm burned out and I don't CARE if it's inconvenient for them! I do inconvenient things ALL THE TIME, EVERY DAY. Please just recognize that I need some time to myself.
* Stress about selling my house
* I can't get Marcelo to go anywhere with me or do anything fun on the weekends (or on the week days for that matter!). If he's not working, then he's sleeping. And if he's not doing one of those, then he's hanging out with Juan Carlos. (No, Marcelo. Going over to my dad's house to watch you play pool is NOT fun)
* People not believing that I know what I'm talking about. I'm tired of being told that I don't really get what's going on or people assuming that I don't know what I'm doing.
* People with private Blogs (Sorry Amy. Stop reading right now. I'm about to offend you). Why do you think that your thoughts are worth guarding? I mean, are you putting up some patent ideas on there and you are afraid of people stealing them? The worst case of this is when NO ONE READS YOUR BLOG and you still make it "private". You know, when you ask for "comments" on certain things and no one ever does, but you still feel in necessary to only have "invited" people read it. (I might be swayed if someone tells me a story about how they had a public blog and someone used it to steal their identity. Other than that, no dice)
* In blog related issues, people who take off the option to have anonymous comments posted. If you can't take the heat of someone else's opinion and defend yourself and your ideas, what's the point to life. It's like saying, "I don't want to hear something if it disagrees with my ideas. Those with thoughts other than my own can leave them at the door when they enter my blogsite". Kudos to Reagan for leaving the anonymous option on her site after that "sister RM" post debacle.
* Bad movie reviewers. People who have and IQ of 62 and think that "Ever After" is like the greatest movie EVER. (I was actually going to go off on this one for a LONG time, but I think I basically wrapped it up in 2 lines)
* It's blizzarding outside right now.
*I have an hour of work left

And finally:
* Working 8-9 hours a day and yet still being responsible for all the cooking, cleaning and general maintenance of the house after I get home.

As I go back and read all these things, I don't think I was very effective in sounding NOT whiny. I think, however, I was very VERY effective in sounding super whiny, crotchety, old, tired and all around unhappy. Crap. Please disregard everything you have just read. I don’t want to be “that girl”.

No wait, read on. I'm going to turn the tides and put some things that I’m grateful for:

* I'm pregnant (FINALLY!!!)
* I only have an hour left of work
* The week is almost over
* I have a garage so I never have to dig my car out of the snow ever again. Oh blessed, blessed garage. How I love thee.
* I'm fully planning on getting some tots and/or a hot chocolate with hazelnut flavoring from the local Maverick on my way home. I'll probably stick with just the tots because it means I don't have to get out of my car.
* I finally figured out what I’m getting Judd for her Birthday that was 2 days ago. It’s been ordered and shipped and should get to me in a few days, and then it’ll get to her after that. I hope she doesn’t mind the fact that it will be nearly 10 days late. Or the fat that it'll be wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper, for that is all I have in my house. I also hope she likes it. She might not. Or she might have it already. But I won’t think about that. This is my “positive” section
* I get the bed all to myself to roll around in because Marcelo sleeps in the other room
* My dog doesn’t mind that I’m lazy and fat. She still loves me because I scratch her ears and throw her ball for her.
* I was feeling the baby a whole bunch today. Then I realized it was just diarrhea. (Wait, maybe that should go in the "whiney" section)
* I’ve wasted a half hour of work. Freedom is THAT much closer!!

That is all I can think of right now. I’m sorry if I’ve offended anyone today. I tend to do that a lot. Sorry. (Was it the diarrhea comment, Beth? Sorry)

Have a nice Thursday everyone!!

FOLLOW-UP: Remember my blog about how Jean sent me a text that it was URGENT she got her theater plans last night? Well, I did it first thing this morning, because she called and asked me to do it again. And what do you know? I just logged into her hotmail account and they are still there, unopened! I guess URGENT means "I'M A TOTAL MORON"

Hey Dickson's. . . This one's for you

A New Post for Lynn

Lynn told me that I need to post something new. Not only did she tell me that, but she also clued me in that also that today is TAT's Birthday. (That's Tiffany Amber Thiessen for you laymen). I think Marcelo and I should celebrate this momentous occasion with a can of 7-up and some chicken. Thanks Lynn.

As for her comment that I need to post again, well, I think that everyone needs to post more. And none of this "I like the color blue!" crappy posts. I want something that's going to make me snort chocolate milk out my nose as I read. Or some pictures of yourself in a very compromising and/or embarrassing situation. (All of my current photos fall under that category because I'm roughly the size of a barge)

So I will do my best to give you a snort worth post right now. Well, I'll just tell you that I'm loving the fact that everyone is out of town right now. Except for the fact that I'll get text messages every 20 minutes or so where she tells me to do things. She'll ask me questions and then TOTALLY ignore my answers. Like she'll ask me (multiple times, mind you) if she needs to call someone, and I'll say, "No, I've taken care of it" and then a while later she sends me a message saying, "Well, I called them. It's all taken care of."

I'm thinking. "Uh, yeah, I know it is, because I'M FREAKING TAKING CARE OF IT!" Every once in a while she'll send a message saying, "URGENT. Please call _______." And then I'll call them and it will be so NOT urgent.

Today I got a text from her saying that I need to call Nordstrom and make plans to go pick up some pants for her. You know, they are a part of one of her "cruise outfits" and she wouldn't want to have one less pair of pants for her cruise. HEAVEN FORBID. Oh, did I mention they are VELVET pants? I think that if you have any amount of fat on your legs, you shouldn't wear velvet pants. You might start a fire with the legs rubbing together.

Anyway, I called Nordstrom and told them that they need to put the pants back on hold and she would come to pick them up next week. Let's see when she says when she finds out I didn't pick them up, but I just deferred it for another week so she could do it. Hell, who are we kidding? I'll be the one picking them up next week.

Last Jean story, I swear. (I think that Lynn is the only one that gets anything out of these stories because she's actually EXPERIENCED the crazy that is Jean. I mean others may enjoy these stories, but there's just something that you can't put into words, that just has to be experienced first hand. Call it Jean's "Crazy Musk.") Anyway, today she texts me and says that she can't get a certain email attachment to open on her iPhone. She asks me to open it and re-send it.

Do you want do know what the email was it? I'm sure you do. It was from her builder and it was a picture of her theater room for her new house. It was more like a schematic layout computerized version showing how the walls would be decorated and painted. There was a full shot and an "up close" shot. Well, I'm almost ready to leave for the day and I just have time to do that before I leave.

So I open the file and send it. Well, after I was home she sends me a message saying, "still having problems opening file. Send it again, but send it to other email address. Also, send the email to Lani too. URGENT."

Really? It's desperately urgent that you see a digitally created mock up of your theater room that won't be ready for another 5 months? That's what's so crucially urgent? I didn't agree. So I ignored the text until tomorrow. What can she do? She's golfing in San Diego. Suck it, Jean.

Oh, and I need to send out an apology to my lobster. I didn't call you on your birthday. I'm sorry. I thought about it all day Monday and then TOTALLY forgot about it on Tuesday. And then I remembered it again today. I love you, and I'm sorry.

And I guess it goes without saying that I haven't sent out your present yet. Please don't be mad at me like your mom was mad at you. I'm a super horrible present giver. You know that. But you know what I can give you? Good memories. Remember that time you bought towallas hygienicas and you asked the guy for a bag so you didn't have to walk down the street with them in your hands? And he looked at you like you were crazy. And then we got them home and they were the size of pillows. Good times.

Oh, and remember how that little panaderia right up the street from our home that always had the panes de chocolate? And I would always buy two or three of them and you would never buy any? That was a nice self esteem booster. And how I would force you to go jogging and we would punk the elders and knock on the door and hide. Good times. And finally, two words: Fofys. . . . Galapaguitos. I will worship you forever, Galapaguitos.

Happy Birthday Hillary Claire Judd Parmenter!!

And finally, my current craving: Nothing. I just made myself two bacon, egg and cheese burritos and am no longer wanting any food. I actually want to throw up a little bit. I was talking to Reagan about getting some fries on the way home. I didn't do it. Not because I had a sudden bout of conscious. But because I forgot about it until I got home. (Curse you pregnancy memory loss!) And I didn't get that Chinese food I was craving the either day either. I don't know what happens to me, but I just get so lazy. I guess that's my best weight loss technique: I'm so freaking lazy and hence don't get have the bad food I want. Try it. It's the "Alicia Diet"

Por Fin! Misericordia de mi bebe!!

I finally felt the baby. I would like to say to all of you people that told me "it feels like bubbles" or "it feels like a butterfly", well you are all horrible liars. It feels NOTHING like that. It feels like when you get to the top of a roller coaster and then all of a sudden the bottom drops out from underneath you. It kind of scared me the first time I felt it.

(Sorry for the next description. It's a little graphic). It also kind of feels like when you have diarrhea and your lower belly churns with the anticipation of having to RUN to the bathroom in about 3 minutes. So I was scared when I felt it for the first time thinking that i was going to have to get to the bathroom, and SOON.

I think it's horrible that I compare feeling my baby for the first time to the same feeling of having the runs. But that butterfly thing that everyone told me is a bunch of crap, so I just wanted you all to know it.

I had to describe it to Marcelo by reminding him of when we were driving around with the Realtor in Missouri, and we went over some of those rolling hills. Sometimes we went too fast and we would fly over them and the bottom would drop too quickly. Marcelo knew EXACTLY what that felt like, so I was happy he could understand what it feels like. And I didn't ever have to say "it's like bubbles." He would've thought I was crazy.

As a work update, everyone will be gone next week. That will be awesome. I don't have to deal with anyone's attitude or hear any more lies about Lynn. But it will also stink because it will delay finding another assistant for a full week. I mean, Jean has to make the FINAL decision and she will be gone ALL WEEK. It'll be fine as long as I'm financially compensated for my. It's horrible that I say that, but I can't change the situation so I might as well profit from it.

Oh, and Jean said again yesterday, "I wouldn't mind having a older assistant. You know, someone in their 30's that won't get pregnant and leave." Isn't that illegal to say? I don't know, but it seems wrong to tell me to my face that she doesn't want me to get pregnant. Well, when she eventually finds out about my pregnancy, I'm going to tell her exactly why I didn't let her know sooner. Let's see what she says then.

I think I'm going to start putting the foods that I'm craving at the end of my blogs. So today It's Chinese food. I was doing TiVo homework and Stephen Colbert was eating some chicken lo mien out of a take out food container. I really wanted some. So I'm going to hunt down some good Chinese food today. I will say that that is one of the things Utah doesn't have. California and New York kick everyone else's but when it comes to Chinese food. But I'm determined to find some good stuff today. If you know any places in the Provo/Orem area that won't give me instant regret, please let me know.