Gnumoon's Stuff

My own Day of the Dead

I’m just returning to the land of the living after spending 15 hours or so in a twilight haze of feverishness and Robitussin (which helps slightly more than nothing, but lots less than NyQuil or Jager).  My co-workers all had this funk last week that included chills, fever, cough, exhaustion, and general congestions, and I foolishly opined that my regiment of prenatal vitamins had boosted my immune system to such a level that I was impervious to their germ attacks. Not so, apparently.

What I know about yesterday includes: I slept, but not straight through. I talked (ok, whined) to my mom and husband on the phone at some point, evidence in the form of a crusty bowl by the couch suggests I ate some oatmeal, and I must have let the dog out a few times, because he didn’t destroy anything or wee on the floor in that time.

Also yesterday, and before the sickness, I’d been at the doctor’s office for the dreaded Glucose test, which screens for gestational diabeetus (Wilfred Brimley voice). It entails the ingestion of a syrupy Sunkist-esque drink, then an hour’s wait, then a blood sugar test. I am proud to say (although I had nothing whatsoever to do with it) that I am ‘beetus-free.

I also went through the routine checkups, and I can report that Pookie is a little more than 2 pounds (I have gained 10 total since September) and she’s having a really fabulous time kicking the hell out of my internal organs (my bladder, specifically).

ps- speaking of zombiism, Melissa sent me this cool Flickr gallery. Thanks!

All it's quacked up to be

OK, so check out the comments in the last post- Radio Gnome smacked one out of the park with that list of “inappropriate baby shower songs”. Wow. (I also thought of “Brick,” by BFF. It ain’t about what you think it’s about.)

So left to my own devices (DJ is away for work), and with a baby shower to help with tomorrow (not mine), I apparently go a tad nuts. Earlier this week I made the shower CDs, and here are the covers: Volume 1 and Volume 2. (And why didn’t I notice what “The Lucky One” is about before I put it on a BABY CD?)

After I used the little rubber duckies on the covers, I started thinking, “I should make some ducky cookies.” Well, I don’t own a ducky cookie cutter, and they aren’t widely available, so I was forced to buy a set of 101 cookie cutters to get a duck. 101. 101 cookie cutters. That is one shitload of cookie cutters.  It says so right on the box: “A SHITLOAD of your favorite shapes!”

I started baking at 7:30 tonight. It is now 1:21 am and I just finished washing the last icing bowl. I am tired, covered with flour and confectioner’s sugar, and quite sick of looking at rubber duckies in cookie form. 50 of them, plus assorted stars, bubbles, and letters. I think I’m about to quack. (and yes, that is the best joke I can make right now…I’m that exhaused)

And I didn't even include "Riders on the Storm"

I’ve been working on a playlist of music for a friend’s baby shower this weekend. I think I’ve finally gotten it down to 2 CDs of good (but not too cheesy) songs. Here’s an iTunes screenshot of the list, if you want to critique my choices. And if you ever tell anyone that I downloaded “Return to Pooh Corner” by Kenny Loggins, I promise that the authorities will never find your body.
Anyway, it’s your basic smooth listening fare: Sarah McLachlan, James Taylor, Alison Krauss, Van Morrison, et al.

In the middle of compiling this list I kept running across songs that might have the word “baby” or “mother” in them, but were completely inappropriate. And it occurred to me that a CD of rejected songs would be infinitely more entertaining, if only for the expressions of the well-dressed ladies in attendance at the soiree. So, without further ado:

“Rejected & Grossly Inappropriate Baby Shower Songs”
Mother – Danzig
Father Figure – George Michael
Lightning Crashes – Live (the only pop song to include the word “placenta”)
Three Little Pigs – Green Jelly (it’s a nursery rhyme, right?)
Mothers of the Disappeared – U2
Cats in the Cradle – Harry Chapin
Father Lucifer – Tori Amos
Kiddie Grinder – Marilyn Manson
Child – GWAR
The Evil Children – King Missle (and you thought they’d only done “Detachable Penis”)
Children of the Grave – Black Sabbath
Voodoo Child – Jimi Hendrix
Tie Your Mother Down – Queen

These are all off the top of my head, so feel free to add others.

In other news: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Please, Danny, say it ain't so!
PUotD: I think I grew alarmingly after that last post about not being big. Round ligament pain abounds.

Me and my belly

That last post pretty much sucked. Sorry about that.

And sorry about this: this current post is very mommy-bloggish, because strange things are afoot at the Circle K, and I have to post about them.

Saturday I went to a party. A party with many ladies who have had babies of their own, and they all felt the need to comment on how large I’m not after 25.5 weeks of pregnancy. For the second time this week, in the presence of another pregnant woman who is 2 months behind me, it was pointed out (loudly) that she’s larger than me. (This didn’t bother me, but it might have bothered her. I didn’t ask.)

Comments/questions I’m tired of include (and my response to each):
1. This is really no time to be dieting.
No dieting. Eating everything in sight.
2. Are you eating enough? You’re eating for two, after all!
see #1.
3. Are you sure you’re as far along as you say?
No, Nosy McDipshit, I can’t *quite* remember when I first missed my period after getting it regularly since September of 1990.
4. Is everything okay with your baby?
Let’s ask her between roundhouse kicks to my bladder.
5. Have you asked your doctor if you should be showing more?
The doctor is wholly unconcerned and told me, “Everyone is different.”

So, judging by #5, I am a unique and special snowflake- a knocked-up, hormonal snowflake who is pretty close to clocking the next asker or insensitive questions over the head with a gigantic pastel Babies-backwards-R-Us registry book.

For the record, here’s me. I cropped the shot so you can’t see that I seem to be carrying the weight of my unborn child in my ass. And it’s only 25-26 weeks…there are long weeks of baby growth ahead of me, and by that time it’s no doubt I’ll resemble the huge manatee people seem to expect when you’re expecting.

Ps- I needed some clothes, and besides the innate hideousness of maternity frocks, they are also super-pricey. (Expensive AND ugly? Sign me up!)  Luckily, the big trend right now in the prosti-tots section of the department store (aka "Juniors") is these cute kimono tops with empire waists and long flowing torsos.  They pretty much make the wearer look pregnant even if she isn’t. And juniors section stuff is much less costly than the same style in maternity wear.

random music updates, now with extra ranting!

The news is here, and it is good. Tool and Rush look to be touring here in the near future, and NIN will have a new album out on April 17. Tool is also headlining Bonnaroo this year, but as that is scheduled for June 14, I think I may have to pass. Also, if you’re interested in the best interactive experience leading up to an album release (and have some serious time to spend reading about it, check out the Year Zero alternate reality game.

Speaking of music, I just have to comment that I never make a snap judgment on a band without first listening to 3 songs. I apply this rule to all bands that my knee-jerk first reaction is to hate. Generally, the first impression turns out to be true, but I want to be as fair as possible. That said: 30 Seconds to Mars is one of the shittiest pieces of shit bands to be unleashed upon the public in some time. Sad-eyed, angsty teens of America: you have been duped by the radio industry and a poseur in an unfortunate eyeliner/skinny jeans combo into thinking this is “music” and that it is “good.” 

On the homefront, we’re just braving the weather and  getting ready for a trip to Charleston next week. Exciting stuff.

PUoTD: I can almost always find the baby’s head now, although poking around inevitably leads to a marathon session of kicking. And for some reason I’ve been addressing the kid as “Pookie.” Not a name we’re considering, but it’s amusing to me anyway.

A V-Day movie suggestion

(This is the best piece of V-Day WTH? clipart I could find to go with this post. Enjoy.)

I promised the other day I’d provide a write-up on my favorite romantic movie. So here it is…I’m not going to reveal it immediately, because some narrow-minded folks may have this fine piece of cinema in the wrong genre and wouldn’t give it a chance as a love story unless it’s presented a certain way (with the distracting elements stripped out). But from the time I first saw it, at age 11 or so, the love story was undeniable.

The basic plot involves a carefree and naïve young woman who is unaware she is in imminent danger. She is saved from almost certain death by a handsome, rugged stranger who says he has come to rescue her from this almost certain death.  She doesn’t believe him, even after he explains the gravity of her situation, and she gives him up to the police. Shortly thereafter she realizes her mistake and has to be rescued by the stranger again (to avoid almost certain death).

They flee to the countryside, where he tells her stories of his life- his struggles to survive in a harsh world, how he came from afar to find her, and how he can never go home again- that he sacrificed his life to be with her. Later on, she asks if there was ever another woman in his life, and he replies no. Then he admits that she is the only woman he has ever loved and that he volunteered to protect her, even facing almost certain death, for the chance to be near her, if only for a short time.

She is overwhelmed by his naked honesty, and 80’s-style big-haired roadside motel Lovemaking ensues.

A short time later certain death returns and he dies protecting the woman he loves. She is forced to go on without him, with only the memory of those two 48 hours to keep her warm for the rest of her days.

But their love endures: she bears his child, a child born with the promise of being a great leader, a man who will one day lead the people of the world to freedom. 
All because of the greatest love story ever filmed.

Breast pumps and butt paste? Why no, it isn't the porno expo...

In important news: My friend delivered her son Thursday at 33 weeks gestation- 7 weeks early. He was 5.6 pounds, 18 inches long, and is being released from the NICU tomorrow. We got to see him today, and he's perfect- just the tiniest bit on the small side. Wonderful news!

In less important news (aka: my normal posting):
I’ve been waiting for a HOLY SHIT moment- a pregnant freak-out of epic proportions: “I’m not ready for this! I’ve made a mistake! I can't handle parenthood!” But it hadn’t happened…didn’t happen when the stick said “pregnant,” didn’t happen when my pants wouldn’t button anymore, didn’t happen when we heard the “whoosh-whoosh” of the heartbeat, but I knew it was there, waiting for the proper moment to attack. And today I got ambushed and the catalyst was Babies “R’ Us. 

This warehouse-sized store contains 943 tons of equipment for a 7-pound human being. Before today I couldn’t have differentiated a breast pump from a sump pump, and yet now I know that there are roughly 19 different brands of auto-milkers, ranging from $19 to $314.  And that’s just the first aisle (which also includes pads, udder butter, baggies for the freezer, baggies for the car, you get the picture here….).

We, the obvious first-time noobs, were handed a scanner gun and a list of necessary items to scan. Did you know that there is a special TRAVEL jumper seat that is to be purchased separately from the HOME jumper seat- apparently if you only buy one of these contraptions, your baby will cry and the terrorists will win.  And lets not even talk about strollers, except to note that they’ve come a long way since I was a kid and are now complex gingham-upholstered engineering marvels.

I know this is the BABY SUPERSTORE and all, but I immediately felt the pressure to buy or scan everything on that list; failure to do so would mark us forever as bad parents. You can check your bags and sense of practicality at the door- you obviously don’t love your baby if you don’t buy at least two Play Yards that match the stroller touring set, crib bumper pads, and spit-up nappies. The selection is great, sure, but I can’t help thinking, “Do babies really NEED all this shit, or is it just another example of materialistic American overkill?”

After about 2 hours, I overloaded completely and collapsed into a Micro-Fiber Upholstered Swivel Glider (in sage green, $380- add the matching ottoman for just $150 more!) I didn’t last long after that, but THANKFULLY the ever-so-helpful registration helper printed me out a list of the items we had carelessly omitted and directed us to the website where we could easily add said items.

On the upside, my husband had a jolly good time including something called “Boudreaux’s Butt Paste” to the registry.

ps- Just caught the end of the Grammy's (Wolfmother beating out Tool for best Hard Rock Performance is just piss-poor). I just had to mention that I love the Dixie Chicks and Natalie Maines def. snagged the award for "marrying the hottest actor no one ever heard of" (Adrian Pasdar). Good on you, Nat, he's a hottie.

pss- finally got to see Pan's Labyrinth this weekend. I'm formulating a review for tomorrow- it wasn't what I expected, and it threw me for a bit of a loop.

p3- I'm also working on a non-cynical Valentine's Day post (SHOCK!), one where we examine the most romantic and beautiful film ever made. Plot: Boy saves girl, they fall in love, their love saves the world.

The world's most dangerous animal

I go to prenatal aerobics. We sit on bouncy balls, hands on the sides of our bellies for support, and we rock back and forth. Then we do lunges and squats, bicep curls and tricep dips, all while watching ourselves in a full-length mirror. It’s interesting, it’s fun, and it’s scary to be 24 weeks baked and see the amazing size of the ladies who are 38 or 41 weeks along. (And you can watch them through the whole class, thanks to that mirror.)
It’s a community! It’s a healthy lifestyle! Aren’t we all going to be great mommies?

It’s also fully-clothed. Usually.

Tonight’s prenatal exercise class is a different animal completely. It’s aqua-natal. It’s in the pool. It requires the use of swimwear. So there we’ll be, a herd of bright-suited hippos, waddling out into the buoyant embrace of the watering hole. I can only imagine that it will be just like that scene in Fantasia, only without the alligators and fancy dance steps.

Although on second thought, giant reptiles lurking in the water might speed up the one girl who’s holding steady at 41+ weeks.

PUotD: I think that was it. Oh, and I'm the only mommy-to-be who works out in a NIN tank top. One of the other women had on a Precious Moments "Coming soon" shirt. I stayed well away from her- I can't trust my snark filters right now, and she could have easily taken me in a fight.

Plays that song thats so elusive...

Apparently the wait for the new Rush album is nearly over, and we can expect a new tour as well! According to 2112.net:
"Although it is still unconfirmed at this time, the previous rumor that the new album's title is Snakes And Arrows seems to be holding up. In addition, there is a new rumor that the title of the first single is "Far Cry" and will hit radio on March 13th. There is no release date as of yet. In addition, although still unannounced, the tour is to kick off Wednesday night June 13th at the Starwood Amphitheater in Nashville."

This is cool for several reasons…
1. New Rush Album!
2. New Rush Tour – starts near here!
3. The title of the new album, Snakes and Arrows, is the name of an ancient Hindu game that charts the ups and downs of the soul’s path toward reunion with the Infinite. The Hindu name for this game is “Leela,” which is also the name for identifying me. I’m glad the guys have finally recognized my influence on their work.

So…March 13. Mark your calendars.

In other music news, April 17 has been set as the release date for the new NIN album, Year Zero. According to Spin:
"It's probably the most minimalist Nine Inch Nails has ever been. Conversely, Trent's getting outside of himself lyrically -- it's a real state-of-the-union message wrapped in a sci-fi concept album about a totalitarian government in the not-too-distant future."
Totalitarian government in the future? That’s never been tackled before in concept albums, has it?

And, on top of all that, Tool is finally scheduling more US tour dates.

Whew! With all this great photographic and musical opportunity, it’s a really good thing I don’t have anything important going on in the late spring/early summer!

Wedding bells and wax lips

I shot my first wedding today.

I now see why wedding photographers charge so much and are so serious- it’s HARD work. You’re in everyone’s way all day, you never get a break, you’re on call from the minute the first bobby pin goes in the hair until the taillights of the getaway car fade into the sunset, and GOD FORBID you screw it up. Basically, the pressure to perform is nerve-wracking.

That said, I really enjoyed myself. I got some really cool shots (and lots of bad ones, too. I’m not used to shooting in conditions that change rapidly…concerts and arenas aren’t places you have to re-white balance 13 times.) The bride and groom (my cousin and her new husband) were entertaining and expressive, as were some of the guests. Not everyone, of course- there are some bor-ring pictures on my hard drive right now that will never get into anyone’s scrapbook. But that is the nature of the tulle beast. 

Would I shoot another wedding? Probably, if I thought I could apply the lessons learned today regarding metering, weird lighting, shadows, etc. It’s the type of shooting you’d want to really improve quickly, learning from your mistakes and leaving them behind without another thought. Although next time I wouldn’t wear high-heeled boots.

ps- My cousin’s husband has almost the same name as her ex-husband. And I definitely did call him by the wrong name in front of her. Twice.

pss- They don't really look like this- they were nice enough to indulge my request for a "wax lips" photo. Does she look strangely like Angelina Jolie in this shot?