PS

I'm leaving for Nashville tomorrow for a long weekend, so it'll be next week before I can post again. It'll be a crazy couple of days, so be on the  lookout for some interesting stories later...

Title

So, I was completely serious when I came up with the title of this blog. Sometimes I cannot believe I am supposed to be 26 years old- a full functioning adult.

Sometimes I'm so overcome with this feeling I don't quite know what to do with myself. It usually happens as I'm pulling into my garage after a long day at work. There I am, coming back to my apartment, in a garage spot, to my fiance, and trying to be a responsible mother to my unborn baby. I'm faced with difficult situations or even just everyday occurrences, and I feel like my decision-making process is trying to figure out what a normal, well-adjusted adult should do, instead of just trusting my own instinct. The funny part is, I don't necessarily think that they are any different- I just take an additional mental step to trust that I'm doing what I should be doing. I just feel like the steps that I take each day that all lead to who I am as a person are the steps I think I should take as I continue to play along with this facade that I am indeed an adult. Like I can fool people one more day that I'm not a twelve-year old. I must be a decent actress.

I'm sure that doesn't make any sense and makes me sound neurotic at best if not psychotic. 

It's been a trying couple of days. I'm hoping things turn up soon. 

And, I totally lied about the pregnancy belly pics. I'm not in the mood right now. But sometime I will actually post them. 

Potpourri

I just made travel arrangements for my 5th trip down to LA in 9 months. But this one is for Jeopardy!! So, I got rationalized out of the idea of Joe announcing my baby news during his intro on the show. First, the show won't actually air until July, when I'm 8 months pregnant and not exactly news anymore. He reasoned that Alex will ask him a specific question, and the chance of that question being "So, do you happen to have any friends who are knocked up?" are high, but not exceedingly high. But, if Alex asks Joe about his marathon running, then Joe has promised he will give a shout out to his favorite marathon running buddy (me!) who is seated devotingly in the audience! Yay! 

Last time I went to LA, this past weekend, I was in the elevator coming up from my continental breakfast at the hotel. I had just been so nice to the little 4 year old riding with me. I let her push the button for my floor and everything. Then she turns to me, and I kid you not says "Um, your belly is kinda showing."... Now, I can recognize that maybe I didn't have so much class dressing myself in my college days, but these days I'm not exactly walking around showing my belly on purpose. I look down and my shirt has rode up ever so slightly. I mean just the slightest sliver of skin was showing. No one would have probably noticed if I wasn't so ghastly white, in contrast to my navy shirt and dark jeans. Because I've spent all this time obstructing my belly from direct sunlight!! Then, as if that wasn't enough, the girl continues "I think that shirt is getting a little small." I think most parents would have been mortified by now, stopping their daughter, apologizing to me. But this mom just laughed. She was fat. And I only feel slightly bitchy saying that. 

The other week, our laundry machines mysteriously dropped a quarter in price each. This was extremely exciting for me. So imagine my distraught when I walked in to do laundry again tonight and the machines were back to their original prices. I think I was more annoyed by the fact I had to walk all the way back down to my apt for another quarter than I was of actually losing that money.

By the way, apparently my pregnancy is a ratings hit (the first time I typed that I wrote rating shit, which has an entirely different context). Remember on Feb 6 when I was excited about almost reaching 500 hits? After 6 months of blogging? Well, today, almost exactly one month later we are over 1000 views. Not too shabby!

One final note, due to overwhelming demand (meaning, one request), I'll be posting pics of my Thanksgiving belly once I'm unlazy enough to take a picture. Before Monday, I promise!

Do we all get the cleverness of my title/shout out to Jeopardy by now?

Buddha Belly

So, the trainers in our gym have become slightly aggressive recently. They approach unsuspecting people and say things like, "Hey, nice push up, but come over here and I'll show you how to really work your arms." I've seen this happen to other innocent exercisers, and Gerard was summoned once himself. Anyway, I'm completely convinced that one of these days someone is going to approach me and say "Hey, I'm glad you're jogging, but let me help you out with that gut." I'm completely prepared with a handful of snappy comebacks I'm sure I'll never actually use. 

One last thought for the evening. Over the past few weeks, I've done my best to alert people to the whole baby thing. I told them in person, called people, notified my loyal blog readers, sent emails, and left what I assumed where less than subtle hints on my facebook- all individualized to let people know appropriately based on the practicality, and, well, based on how close to a person I was. So, of course this had some planning to do- who is a call-friend and who is an email- friend, etc. Apparently I got some of these lists wrong. One "friend" who I had planned to call found out through someone else first. Now he refuses to talk to me. Cool. (This may actually have to do with reasons other than the fact I didn't call him quickly enough and more based on the fact that the baby exists period and it's not his, but that's a whoooole 'nother can of worms). So I sent out an email to a group of friends I really haven't talked to much the past two years. It wasn't even a mass email; it was sent to a circle of 6 friends who all knew eachother, and was individualized as such. I sent this email 9 days ago. How many have responded? 1. One! And she was definitely the one I was least close with. For real??! Are you serious?! Ouch, dude. I don't need a sappy, ten-page memior; a simple one line Congrats!!! would suffice. 2 girls I can't fathom not checking their email for 9 days. One girl I've seen online plenty of times on GChat, and I sent it to her Gmail, and the last girl is freaking roomates with the one that did actually respond, so I know she knows.

I'm sorry, but girls suck.  And for that matter, so do guys who used to be in love with you like a million years ago and have pretended to be your friend this whole time only to really actually not give a shit about your happiness. 

That is all. Just needed to get that off my chest.