Sunday, April 18, 2010

Trail mix.

Like most people my age who attended pubic school, I logged many hours in the computer lab as a kid, playing games like Carmen SanDiego and Oregon Trail on the Apple IIGS. Oregon Trail was always my favorite, mainly because I liked to plug in my friend's names and see how many of them lived until the end. Today I will be recreating this experience, using some blog friends.

Let's travel the trail, shall we?

I decide to be a Banker from Boston, because I like alliteration. And I'm all about the Benjamins, baby.
In my wagon, we have:
Myself, Sadako of Dibbly Fresh, Nikki of Are You There Youth? It's Me, Nikki, Hutch from Be Awesome Instead, and Amber from Nostomanic. Let's buy some supplies and get moving!

And now we face one of life's greatest decisions: caulk or ford?

Let's caulk.

But soon after, our first illness:

We'd better rest.

We reach a gravesite. Let's look around.

Tragic. But not as tragic as this:


We must press on, wagon train.

Uh oh, here we go again. Perhaps Nikki will have a heartier constitution than Sadako.

So far so good. And check it out! We scored some sweet loot!

But our good luck doesn't last. Jerk.

Nikki! Come on now, pull yourself together. We don't have time for your digestive infections.

For real, Nikki?

And the health issues continue.

Now Amber has wandered off.

I hired an Indian guide to help us across the Snake River. Let's see how that worked out:

I want my two sets of clothing back.

Food is getting low, perhaps I should hunt.

I can only kill bison because they are slow and I have poor hand-eye coordination.

We're almost there! We'd better take the toll road. We've had enough tragedy for one trip.

We made it! And despite all the death, we got a high score.

Friday, April 16, 2010

Dear Second Baby.

Dear Second Baby,

You aren't even here yet, and I already feel like you're getting the short end of the stick. Life is so busy sometimes that I don't often stop and think about the fact that you will be here in about six months. I haven't spent a lot of time dreaming about what you will look like or what gender you are. I feel really bad about that.

Things were a lot different when I was pregnant with your brother. Everything was new. I wasn't nearly as sick. I didn't already have a baby to chase. I spent a lot of time just being pregnant, talking to him and enjoying all of the new sensations. That just hasn't happened this time. It hasn't been possible. I feel terrible, because none of this is your fault. I worry that I won't have enough time for both of you once you're here, too. How the heck do I make that work? I really don't know. I guess we will all have to figure it out together.

I want you to know that even though this pregnancy is different, your dad and I still love you more than we could ever express. It may not always seem like it, but we are excited that you are coming and we can't wait to meet you. I can't wait to start feeling you move around. I can't wait to find out if we'll be buying pink or recycling blue. So don't ever doubt how I feel about you. You're my little pumpkin and you always will be.



Saturday, April 10, 2010

Bloggin' roll high school.

Lately I have been putting a lot (too much?) of thought into what high school would have been like if I went to school with my favorite bloggers. My high school experience wasn't overly traumatic, but it wasn't totally awesome either. I didn't get picked on, but being a member of the Drama Club didn't exactly get me on the cool list either. I was dorky, flat-chested, and took a lot of AP classes, but I was also comfortable with who I was and didn't really care what my classmates thought of me. Truthfully, high school is actually kind of a blur to me now, possibly because of all the alcohol I drank in college.

Please keep in mind I graduated in 1999, so I have no idea what high school is like today. This is all coming to via my 90s-influenced filter.

At my lunch table: I think my main crew would have consisted of Nikki, Sadako, Amber, Alison, and Shannon. Why? Though I don't write a YA book or nostalgia blog like they do, I know from reading them that they are kindred spirits. Meaning they're book nerds, like me. And I mean that with all the love in the world! Plus, Amber would have to be my friend because she is the only other person I have ever met who has heard of the show Fifteen.

In my AP classes: You'd find Tiffani, Cecilia, and Ashley. These girls are just smart, yo. Hopefully they would let me work with them on group projects.

Editor of the newspaper: Michelle, my favorite activist! And Kim would edit the literary magazine.

Fashion icon: Tracy, for sure. Hopefully she would give me a "She's All That" style makeover. I didn't dress that bad in high school; I just looked like a refugee from a GAP explosion. My color palate ranged from khaki to navy blue, with the occasional pastel if I was feeling dangerous.

Too cool to hang out with me: LeMeh. She is totally bad ass. Also, probably Kiran, because she is so cute and talented. I like to think they would take pity on a nerd like me and let me tag along every now and then.

Boy Magnet: Steph, for sure. This girl gets all the dates!

Who would be at your Bloggin' Roll High School?

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Just say not in my apartment.

I don't smoke pot.

It's just not for me. Not to mention getting high is really isn't a recommended recreational activity for pregnant women. But either way, I don't get down with the ganja.

Do I care if others smoke pot? Not really. I mean, I have personal opinions about recreational drug use, but honestly? What you do in your home is your business, not mine.

However, what you do in the lobby of my apartment building? Totally my business.

I was at home yesterday, sitting in my recliner and enjoying reruns of Project Runway. All of the sudden, I smelled something funny. It smelled like something was burning. I walked around our apartment to make sure nothing was on fire. Everything was normal. So far, so good.

I sat back down, and realized it kind of smelled like someone was smoking a cigarette out in our common area. Since it is prominently posted that this is a no smoking area, I was ready to go out and raise some hell.

I opened the door and...WHAM. Someone had been smoking, alright. The hallways reeked of marijuana. I could have gotten a free high just by checking my mail. This was the smell that was gradually seeping into my apartment.

Ok, this is the part where I get totally square and uncool, so bear with me. This is the lobby I walk through every day with my INFANT SON. Not to mention the unborn child relying on me for its oxygen. In just a few minutes, my husband would be coming home with my baby and passing through this very lobby, and my son was going to have to breathe this air. And I don't like it when people eff with my kid(s). So I called both our property manager and the police non-emergency line. Yes, I know. I am that crazy lady.

Both our property manager and the police officer I talked to were extremely nice. We assessed the residents of my building: two single elderly people and my family. The officer suspects that someone came over and decided our lobby was a nice, secluded place to get high. She said the smell was so strong and so concentrated in that area that she doubts it came from one of the apartments. I'm glad it's probably not one of my neighbors, but upset that someone picked my building to be their personal smoke out area.

Little do they know they messed with the wrong mama bear. Try it again and see what happens!
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