Wednesday, March 25, 2009
  Because When I Arrive I Bring the Fire
This pregnancy's weird. Now that I've talked about it it's all I'm going to talk about for the next five months probably. Half the time I don't feel like I'm pregnant even though my belly is getting exponentially rotund each day, and I've had 17 weeks to get used to it so far. I waited a long time to tell anybody because I was freaked out that something would be wrong, so freaked out that I had that CVS procedure where they stick a giant big fat needle in your belly, and I think everybody here knows how I feel about needles. If there was one thing Gray and I learned from my last pregnancy it's that we're both the kind of people who need to know everything there is to know about the baby inside. For instance, last time I had a nuchal translucency test, which measures the bridge of the baby's nose and the folds of its neck in utero to statistically determine whether or not it has Down's. Even though the numbers came back well within range of being fine, we spent the entire 40 weeks thinking something was askew since it was a statistical test and not a diagnostic test. So this time, diagnostic. And everything's fine. I'll have the big ultrasound in a couple of weeks where they can see how everything's flowing to all the organs and where my placenta is and if everything's good. And then if things are okay maybe I'll relax. What was that, you ask? You want me to say placenta again? Okay. Placenta, placenta, placenta. There's a town outside Los Angeles called Placentia and I always thought that was a little close/grose.

So everything else is cool I guess. One of my Burbank friends came to visit a few weeks ago and it made me realize that I still don't have any real friends here so it took me a few days after she left to get un-bummed. We'll have lived here a year next month. Next week I'm going to Burbank to see what $4000 buys you plumbing-wise on a house you don't live in anymore and also to visit with some friends, also to buy a Porto's sandwich, and also to hit a small bookstore up for the money they owe me but refuse to pay me because I don't live there anymore. Jerks. Which reminds me that the big indie bookstore in this town is closing at the end of April because of the dang economy. And also the sales tax here in this county is going to 9.25 at the beginning at April, which if you ask me is the crime of the century. Way to let people get back on their feet, California government. Hit us in the wallet on a daily basis. Things are a mess.

The baby isn't a mess. He likes donkeys.


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