It's 3 am and I cannot sleep; I'm wide awake, not even a little tired. It has been a while since I've had insomnia and this is can be blamed on adrenaline - it's aftermath continues on. Ryan is playing games on his gameboy thingy - Nintendo DS. He loves that thing.
For the past month or so there has been a man parking his van across the street for a week or so at a time. He lives in the van. I kept a wary eye on him at first because we had a guy sometime late Winter that was sleeping in his truck for a few nights - at first he was parked kitty corner to us and it seemed each night his truck moved a little closer to our house. One night before turning in (wow, that's an old person statement if ever there was one) I let the dog out who proceeded to bark and bark and bark at something. I peeked through the blinds in the front window and saw the man and a dog in his truck - the guy waved at me peeking through the blinds. I called the dog in then I called the police. He pushed my button. It took that gesture for me to call the police - I didn't call earlier because some guy was down on his luck and had to live in his truck - although a preferable place for one who is living in ones car is NOT in front of my house. There are lots of bridges and overpasses under which one can park one's vehicle. There is a bridge not so far from our house that is the proverbial bridge under which one should not pass under past dusk. I'm sure it is not the safest place to park a vehicle but isn't' that what locks are for? Well, now I'm starting to sound like a snob.
Back to the story. I called the cops, told my story, someone came out rather quickly; cop and creepy truck man had words - nothing heated from what I could tell. Creepy man in creepy truck drove away. I haven't seen him since. Maybe he went back to dwelling under a bridge. Or, better yet, he was able to find gainful employment and is sleeping in a bed in a safe place.
So man in burgundy van made me cautious - when he was in his van I would give Kea the signal to bark - it's never a bad idea to bring attention to the fact that a dog does in fact reside in the house and that the dog barks - never mind barking is not her thing and tail wagging and prancing for joy like a kid hopped up on sugar is her thing. Dog that barks = some level of added security. Then I noticed Burgundy van man shaving in the morning and getting out of van and walking to the center - where he works - grounds maintenance of some sort. He leaves on the weekends and comes back during the week. Ryan noticed he has a small portable TV that he watches whilst sitting in the van when he gets off work. Van man doesn't stare at us, doesn't say hi to us, he just leaves us alone which I really APPRECIATE. Ours is a relationship of mutual ignoring.
Then tonight there is burgundy van with non-threatening, employed but not making enough to afford a bed somewhere man in his abode minding his own business. There is now also a big, old blue van with some sort of pop up top. The back window has curtains. I pop my head in the house to ask Ryan if the blue van is the "Hookermobile". When we first moved in our neighbors told us about the prostitute who 'works' our area - an older woman who I, upon seeing her, determined is CLEARLY a discount hooker - sporadically and not as often as in the past because like the title the post implies, our neighborhood is still smack in the middle of the "Up and coming" stage of gentrification.
Ryan asks me why I think he knows what the "Hookermobile" looks like. I tell him I'm watching him while giving him the two finger eye point from me to him like in Meet the Parents. I step back outside and finish eating my apple and continue my encouragements of the dog and her pottying all the while staring at the van. There was someone in the front seat and someone moved the curtains in the back. No other motion was detected in the van. I determined by the lack of motion, rocking if you will, that the van was indeed, not the Hookermobile.
Before I let Kea in I tried to get her to speak but she just freaked out and ran around the yard like a rabid dog and made funny grunting/growling sounds. Eh, I'll take crazy rabid looking dog to show off to the strangers sleeping in van #2.
Each time I got up to relieve my compressed bladder I peeked through the curtains to look at the van. Not a lot to see. Just a van with street lights shining on it. I lay back in bed ready to go back to the land of weird preggo dreams when I hear a car door slam shut. I pop out of bed and see a dark figure walking up the stairs from the sidewalk to our house! "Ryan! Some is coming up the stairs!" A startled Ryan pops up out of bed and comes over to the window. The guy is now at our door and there is another person in the street also advancing toward our house. My heart is racing and I'm thinking, "is he going to break into our house? What does he want?" Then he rings the doorbell 3 or 4 times. OK, not a burglar - unless he is ringing the doorbell to get us to the door so he can politely ask us to leave while he takes all our earthly possessions. Ryan lowers a window and asks the shirtless Hispanic man what he wants. As soon the window is open you hear the other person in the street, a large white woman, yelling at him. Hispanic man asks us to call the police. Large white woman holds up what looks to be a phone in her hand and says, "I'll call the police! You tell me who to call and I'll call the police!" These two so belonged on the show "Cops".
I pad into the kitchen to call the non-emergency police number - they were fighting over the van. Eh. The non-emergency line (that I took down from my first call to the police about the creepy man in the truck) is now a business hour only line and they quickly give an alternate number to call. I grab a marker but I can't remember the number and there's no way to repeat the message so I hang up, call again and jot down the number. A lot of work to go to, I'm sure, but I don't want to clog the 911 system with non-emergency calls. The second number is truly a non-emergency number. Illegally parked vehicles, abandoned vehicles... there were 9 options. I only listened to the first few and realized the option I needed - homeless people fighting over a van - was probably not there so I hung up and called 911.
It must be a slow crime night in Seattle because in less than 5 minutes not one, not two but three cop cars showed up. One dude even left his lone red flashing light on. Kind of obnoxious but I shouldn't complain - they answered the call and arrived pronto.
Interruption: The dog is having a dream. Her paws are twitching and she's barking in her sleep. It's a quiet, high pitched bark that makes her cheeks puff out - it's beyond cute. Great, now she's snoring. I hate snoring. I may have to wake her up.
OK, back to the cops arrival. I watch everything through our bedroom windows with the curtains parted and give Ryan the play by play as I see it 'going down' while he is playing a game on his DS. Shirtless Hispanic man gives his side of the story (thanks to our newly installed windows I can not hear a thing save the whistle of the train down in SODO) as evidenced by his outstretched arm pointing at the van then off in the distance then to our house. He sits down on the curb. Large white woman has the stage. Her side of the story is much more lively as there is much more pointing and waiving of the arms. Keys are held high above her head, our house is pointed at. Mr. Cop sitting in car #1 is running their IDs. Mr Cop from car #2 is questioning both parties and ferrying IDs to and from involved parties. Cop from car #3 is bored. He looks takes his flash light and walks up the sidewalk in front of our house and inspects that which falls under the yellow beam of light - the grassy patch of city owned land by the street, the neighbors shrubs, our steps. There is nothing of interest to be found.
Cop #2 has Shirtless Hispanic man put his hands behind his back then cuffs him while he is sitting on the curb then walks him to the hood of #1's car and checks his pockets. It's kind of weird seeing a man stick his hands in another man's pants pockets. After the search - not much of an upper body search since everything was in plain sight - he is led back to curb where he sits again.
Large white woman is given her id back. Shirtless man is put in the back of #1's car to which Ryan commented, "What an idiot! He asked us to call the cops." I agree. Idiot. But who says criminals are smart? Lady gets back in van and all three cops leave.
The End.
One more exciting adventure in our neck of the woods. For the parties reading this that may be concerned.... this neighborhood actually feels safer than our old neighborhood. At the other house we had someone try to enter our house on New Year's Eve when we answered the door - we just arrived home and thought it was our neighbor friend (found out the next morning he was drunk and tried to enter every one's house on our street looking for another party and presumably more booze). On another occasion our neighbor across the street had a gun pulled on him after he told a young punk to slow down in his car. What else? Oh, a meth lab 2 doors down and a crack/meth and who knows what else house at the end of the street. See, our move seemed like a move down but if anything it was lateral and maybe, just maybe, a little bit better. We have 3 neighbors on our street. Next door they are business people and wear suits to work, the guy on the other side is an artist with a 3 year old who is getting cuter and chattier by the day and the ones at the end of the street - I don't remember what they do but they are nice and have a toddler son and they invited us to their open house - they moved in shortly after we did. We looked at their house and decided it wasn't for us. That made for some awkward conversation. David, I think that's his name, said, "So, you guys probably looked at this house, too and decided you didn't like it." Yipes. What do say in response to that? We told him it was too close to the busy road - which was true. We didn't like that it was adjacent to such a busy street. It seems much quieter 3 houses in.
OK, now I'm just rambling. I'm tired again but I'm also hungry. Time for snack then beddie-by again.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
Driving Miss April (Crazy)
We just signed up for childbirth/labor/your-life-as-you-know-it-is-over classes tonight. There are a total of 5 classes that will range from 2 hours to 8 hours. One class we opted to take in one day instead of a manageable 4, 6 or even 8 smaller classes. By 'we' I mean Ryan. He is kind of a willing participant in all of these classes so I opted to take the all day classes so we only have to take 5 days instead 10 or 12. Ryan pointed out to me that he will end up taking more classes than me - if he does have to attend all of the classes because he is taking the dad's only Conscious Fathering class (aka Baby Boot Camp). Oh, well. I have to gain at least 25 pounds and have a parade of nurses poke and prod me while I'm naked in a sterile room pushing a human out of my body. Good times.
I'm really not looking forward to labor but who does? I am well aware that women have been giving birth for thousands of years (and lots of them were dying during childbirth but people don't bring that up). I know. This is the first time I've given birth. Besides, if a cave woman were given the opportunity to have an epidural do you really think she would turn it down? I think not. I tell everyone I'm going in to the hospital with a bulls eye on my back for the anesthesiologist. : ) I would really like to not experience a great deal of pain.
Last weekend I was in Vancouver for Crina's shower and for Father's Day. On Sunday we had a family dinner with my brother and his family. My nephew, Matthew, 3 years old, is fascinated by pregnant bellies. I wonder what is going on inside his head when we tell him I have a baby in my stomach. I was barely showing last time I visited so this time it was pretty clear even to Matthew that I had a bun in the oven. He came up and touched my belly and said he wanted to see the baby. We told him it was too early to see the baby. Well! That did not go over well. He repeated that he wanted me to "push the baby out" so he could see it. When we told him that was not possible he cried and went over to his mom.
I'm down to 65 days of work! Woo-hoo. I realized today that I'm ready to be done with my job because I'm ready to be done with the drama. Hm, I feel like singing a little Mary J. Blige right now; at least I think she is the one who sings the "No More Drama" song. My office shares a space with another company - owned by the same person but they are two separate companies and we have an apartment above that is on the same utility meter as us. Billing is a bit sticky with the one company piggy-backing on our phones, internet and some office supplies and the tenant (who power washes everything - he's a power washer by day and a midnight toker by, well, night) upstairs. Every month it is a sore spot for our accountant because our company is taking a hit financially by giving the other two great rates on their utility/phone/whatever at an expense to us. I can see her gripe since our company profit shares. The more money we save on bills the more money we have to give back to the agents who help make us successful. But after 2 years of dealing with it - I'm done.
I'm currently doing my part to make the other company get their own phone lines - because I get far too many calls (our number shows up on their outbound caller id) from their rude customers who, after calling me say, "You called me?" in an angry tone. It's so hard to remain polite when they start out like such jerks. I want to say, "No, jackass, you called me." That wouldn't go over so well. The way our organization is set up the owner doesn't necessarily run the company - there are 3 owners (2 majority and one who makes the decisions). So all we have to do is convince the one who makes the decisions to see things our way - which has been going well thus far - and the problems will become a thing of the past.
Jackass is my new favorite word. Sorry, Mom. It is just the right name to call someone when they cut you off or change lanes right in front of you without using their turn signal or when they make a left hand turn without getting into the turn lane. Ah, Seattle is a great city but I'm turning into the wicked witch of the west behind the wheel. I told my bible study girls the other day that I'm a much more relaxed driver when I listen to classical music. Apparently its been a while since I've tried that because that is no longer the case. I think I need to try and view obnoxious drivers I encounter multiple times a day as myself. I'm not a bad driver - I'm aggressive. At least that is what I tell myself.
As my pregnancy goes on and the baby moves more my tolerance for bad driving is shrinking. How dare someone almost run me and my unborn child off the road? Before bad driving gave me an excuse to yell at strangers while stuck in traffic - now bad driving is bringing out maternal instincts. I'll probably get one of those 'Baby on Board' decals for the car that I used to make fun of. Who really drives more carefully because of those? Parents, that's who. Teenagers and 20-somethings could care less. Well, so could 80 year olds. Seriously? Old people should have a mandatory drivers test every year in the boat that they wield all over town on a daily basis. Their score should be divided into thirds: parking (front in and parallel), turning left and right at two different intersections and the ever-on turn signal (they must turn their turn signal off within one-eighth of a mile of the lane change/turn). A passing score is 80%. Yes, I know the only possible scores are 33%, 66% and 100%; that's the beauty of my scoring system. : )
I'm really not looking forward to labor but who does? I am well aware that women have been giving birth for thousands of years (and lots of them were dying during childbirth but people don't bring that up). I know. This is the first time I've given birth. Besides, if a cave woman were given the opportunity to have an epidural do you really think she would turn it down? I think not. I tell everyone I'm going in to the hospital with a bulls eye on my back for the anesthesiologist. : ) I would really like to not experience a great deal of pain.
Last weekend I was in Vancouver for Crina's shower and for Father's Day. On Sunday we had a family dinner with my brother and his family. My nephew, Matthew, 3 years old, is fascinated by pregnant bellies. I wonder what is going on inside his head when we tell him I have a baby in my stomach. I was barely showing last time I visited so this time it was pretty clear even to Matthew that I had a bun in the oven. He came up and touched my belly and said he wanted to see the baby. We told him it was too early to see the baby. Well! That did not go over well. He repeated that he wanted me to "push the baby out" so he could see it. When we told him that was not possible he cried and went over to his mom.
I'm down to 65 days of work! Woo-hoo. I realized today that I'm ready to be done with my job because I'm ready to be done with the drama. Hm, I feel like singing a little Mary J. Blige right now; at least I think she is the one who sings the "No More Drama" song. My office shares a space with another company - owned by the same person but they are two separate companies and we have an apartment above that is on the same utility meter as us. Billing is a bit sticky with the one company piggy-backing on our phones, internet and some office supplies and the tenant (who power washes everything - he's a power washer by day and a midnight toker by, well, night) upstairs. Every month it is a sore spot for our accountant because our company is taking a hit financially by giving the other two great rates on their utility/phone/whatever at an expense to us. I can see her gripe since our company profit shares. The more money we save on bills the more money we have to give back to the agents who help make us successful. But after 2 years of dealing with it - I'm done.
I'm currently doing my part to make the other company get their own phone lines - because I get far too many calls (our number shows up on their outbound caller id) from their rude customers who, after calling me say, "You called me?" in an angry tone. It's so hard to remain polite when they start out like such jerks. I want to say, "No, jackass, you called me." That wouldn't go over so well. The way our organization is set up the owner doesn't necessarily run the company - there are 3 owners (2 majority and one who makes the decisions). So all we have to do is convince the one who makes the decisions to see things our way - which has been going well thus far - and the problems will become a thing of the past.
Jackass is my new favorite word. Sorry, Mom. It is just the right name to call someone when they cut you off or change lanes right in front of you without using their turn signal or when they make a left hand turn without getting into the turn lane. Ah, Seattle is a great city but I'm turning into the wicked witch of the west behind the wheel. I told my bible study girls the other day that I'm a much more relaxed driver when I listen to classical music. Apparently its been a while since I've tried that because that is no longer the case. I think I need to try and view obnoxious drivers I encounter multiple times a day as myself. I'm not a bad driver - I'm aggressive. At least that is what I tell myself.
As my pregnancy goes on and the baby moves more my tolerance for bad driving is shrinking. How dare someone almost run me and my unborn child off the road? Before bad driving gave me an excuse to yell at strangers while stuck in traffic - now bad driving is bringing out maternal instincts. I'll probably get one of those 'Baby on Board' decals for the car that I used to make fun of. Who really drives more carefully because of those? Parents, that's who. Teenagers and 20-somethings could care less. Well, so could 80 year olds. Seriously? Old people should have a mandatory drivers test every year in the boat that they wield all over town on a daily basis. Their score should be divided into thirds: parking (front in and parallel), turning left and right at two different intersections and the ever-on turn signal (they must turn their turn signal off within one-eighth of a mile of the lane change/turn). A passing score is 80%. Yes, I know the only possible scores are 33%, 66% and 100%; that's the beauty of my scoring system. : )
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
The naming of Jermaine
Now that we know the baby is a boy we can start thinking of names. I've compiled a list of names I like or of ones that have piqued my interest. Some may seem a little out there - hopefully none of them are vanilla. I put them in alphabetical order so as to keep my preferences out of y'alls opinions. Please give me honest feedback on the names - just ones that you have a strong reaction to - positive or negative- unless it is related to a playground bully - weird nicknames or initial thoughts would be great. Someone told me the other day that the nickname for Oliver is Ollie and that name came off the list very, very quickly. So your input is valued.
Charles
Elijah
Gabriel
Gavin
Henry
Isaac
Isaiah
Keaton
Kennedy
Liam
Luke
Nolan
Quinn
Sawyer
Tavish
Wilson
Charles
Elijah
Gabriel
Gavin
Henry
Isaac
Isaiah
Keaton
Kennedy
Liam
Luke
Nolan
Quinn
Sawyer
Tavish
Wilson
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
bits and pieces
I've made two posts about dreams and I'll spare you more long drawn out dreams but will instead give you a long drawn out post with just snippets of dreams.
1. Ryan and I are vacationing/living in a bland condo in Mexico near the beach in a big city. Ryan found a shopping cart he really liked. The cart was like the new ones that have two small stacked baskets instead of one really big basket but it only had the bottom basket. He wheeled it around and took it home with us to the condo. Then Steph, the in house loan officer at my office, joined us at our condo. From there we departed to a fabled beach/cliff where gay men pushed their wives off cliffs because they wanted to be single. (Don't read anything into that).
2. Ryan and I are staying at a hotel downtown near the pier. We hear that there is going to be a street concert by Maroon 5 in front of the hotel so we scope out a good place in the hotel to view it from. Oddly enough we are the only one in the hotel who knows about it because it is just the two of us watching from a great perch. The lead singer sees me and walks over to me (whatever wall was holding up one side of the hotel is now gone because he walked right up to me from the outside while I'm clearly inside). Commentary: don't know where that one came from. I saw Maroon 5 do a set on a show during the American Idol finale a couple of weeks ago but that's it. I thought the lead singer was gangly and cocky and 'danced' funny. Eh.
3. This dream was part of the above dream but how is beyond me. Our laundry room - which was not at all like our laundry room at home- was over run by super cute furry little creatures that I called possums but were not possums. They were soft like a rabbit and the size of a big hamster. They were in all of the clean clothes in the dryer, in the dirty clothes on the floor (that part is like my laundry room at home. April = sloth). They were lounging all around the place. We just picked them up and tossed them out of the way.
4. Last night's dream took a turn for the dark side. I'll explain where it came from later. In my dream I witnessed a crime and was being threatened by the criminal to not testify against him in court. I don't remember what the crime was but apparently it was enough to put the criminal in prison. People were following me from home to work and it just kept replaying over and over again. In some versions nothing happened and in other versions they shot me. So I wake up because someone is shooting at me... seems like the natural thing to do to make the bad dreams go away but NO! I wake up and the dream continues. So I get out of bed, I have to get up anyone - you know to make my 3rd or 10th trip to the potty - and the *#&$(#@* dream continues. Oh, yeah. Where this dream came from: a couple of months ago some Bellevue detectives came to my office looking for a guy who was wanted for stealing cars - some sort of fugitive. Well, the detectives came back in a couple of weeks ago because he was back in the area and was supposedly hanging out with the guy who lives in the apartments above my office. So yesterday as I'm leaving the office I see the tenant in a car with a guy I think kind of looks like the guy the cops showed me a picture of several months before. So I jotted down the license plate information and go back in the office and found the cop's business card and called him. That's all. It probably wasn't the guy but since I thought that might be the guy I saw in a fuzzy picture 3 months ago I should probably call.
5. Who knows what tonight brings? I would much rather it be weird than scary.
Happy dreams!
1. Ryan and I are vacationing/living in a bland condo in Mexico near the beach in a big city. Ryan found a shopping cart he really liked. The cart was like the new ones that have two small stacked baskets instead of one really big basket but it only had the bottom basket. He wheeled it around and took it home with us to the condo. Then Steph, the in house loan officer at my office, joined us at our condo. From there we departed to a fabled beach/cliff where gay men pushed their wives off cliffs because they wanted to be single. (Don't read anything into that).
2. Ryan and I are staying at a hotel downtown near the pier. We hear that there is going to be a street concert by Maroon 5 in front of the hotel so we scope out a good place in the hotel to view it from. Oddly enough we are the only one in the hotel who knows about it because it is just the two of us watching from a great perch. The lead singer sees me and walks over to me (whatever wall was holding up one side of the hotel is now gone because he walked right up to me from the outside while I'm clearly inside). Commentary: don't know where that one came from. I saw Maroon 5 do a set on a show during the American Idol finale a couple of weeks ago but that's it. I thought the lead singer was gangly and cocky and 'danced' funny. Eh.
3. This dream was part of the above dream but how is beyond me. Our laundry room - which was not at all like our laundry room at home- was over run by super cute furry little creatures that I called possums but were not possums. They were soft like a rabbit and the size of a big hamster. They were in all of the clean clothes in the dryer, in the dirty clothes on the floor (that part is like my laundry room at home. April = sloth). They were lounging all around the place. We just picked them up and tossed them out of the way.
4. Last night's dream took a turn for the dark side. I'll explain where it came from later. In my dream I witnessed a crime and was being threatened by the criminal to not testify against him in court. I don't remember what the crime was but apparently it was enough to put the criminal in prison. People were following me from home to work and it just kept replaying over and over again. In some versions nothing happened and in other versions they shot me. So I wake up because someone is shooting at me... seems like the natural thing to do to make the bad dreams go away but NO! I wake up and the dream continues. So I get out of bed, I have to get up anyone - you know to make my 3rd or 10th trip to the potty - and the *#&$(#@* dream continues. Oh, yeah. Where this dream came from: a couple of months ago some Bellevue detectives came to my office looking for a guy who was wanted for stealing cars - some sort of fugitive. Well, the detectives came back in a couple of weeks ago because he was back in the area and was supposedly hanging out with the guy who lives in the apartments above my office. So yesterday as I'm leaving the office I see the tenant in a car with a guy I think kind of looks like the guy the cops showed me a picture of several months before. So I jotted down the license plate information and go back in the office and found the cop's business card and called him. That's all. It probably wasn't the guy but since I thought that might be the guy I saw in a fuzzy picture 3 months ago I should probably call.
5. Who knows what tonight brings? I would much rather it be weird than scary.
Happy dreams!
Friday, June 15, 2007
The Sex of Jermaine
I was a useless lump at work on Thursday. All I could think about was the ultrasound we were going to have at 8 am the following day. Sleep was fitful but that's kind of normal right now. Baby + uterus = compact bladder. Nuff said.
We decided to get to Seattle Ultrasound a little early since the appointment time is more of a suggested arriving time. Last time we had to wait a while to be seen. This time we were seen in less than 10 minutes of checking in. Our ultrasonographer's name was April, too.
Short story even shorter because I'm now at my mom's house on dial up and we have to go get a Father's Day present for my dad before we go to Crina's shower.....
Jermaine is a boy!!!
We decided to get to Seattle Ultrasound a little early since the appointment time is more of a suggested arriving time. Last time we had to wait a while to be seen. This time we were seen in less than 10 minutes of checking in. Our ultrasonographer's name was April, too.
Short story even shorter because I'm now at my mom's house on dial up and we have to go get a Father's Day present for my dad before we go to Crina's shower.....
Jermaine is a boy!!!
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
The art of counting
I talked to Ryan and decided my last day of work is going to be October 5th; exactly one month before my due date. Initially I asked Ryan when he thought would be an acceptable time for me to quit and he said that was not his decision to make. I let him know I would leave now if it were permissible. He laughed then agreed one month early is just fine.
I was so antsy to have my final day written in stone because I wanted to start a count down on my calendar that I stare at all day long at work. I made three separate counts. Month, week and day. There are 3.5 months left, 16 weeks and 76 days. The months and weeks are of actual time that will have to elapse until I leave. The day count however is just work days. That means weekends, holidays (Independence Day & Labor Day) and vacation are not included.
My friend Jenn became a little annoyed with my artful counting system when I didn't give her the manual for April countdowns. I kept telling her the ultrasound, where we find out the sex of the baby, was in 2 weeks. Well, 2 weeks in a countdown to something as exciting as finding out what we are having calls for my special counting method to soothe my impatient self.
Here is what I learned as a 5 year old when counting down the days to Christmas and all the glory Christmas entails:
1. Never count the day you are in - even if it is 5 a.m. It doesn't count.
2. Never count the day of the holiday. What's the point?
3. As the day draws closer the count down excludes Christmas Eve - which is another great day in and of itself.
4. When you are about a week out you don't count the following day to the one you are currently in.
I know, it's five year old logic but hey, it works for me. Now I could care less about Christmas presents, now I just love spending time with my family and eating all of the black olives and pickles from the relish tray. Although these days I have to share the salty treats with my niece and nephew. They are SO lucky I'm such a kind, benevolent auntie that I bestow upon them the privilege of eating from the relish tray. I must allow the little ones to carry on the tradition of olive fingers as lo, my fingers do cause the olives to split in half.
Since we are so far out in the count down we are also able to shave off the week we are in and the last week of the count down. So that leaves me with 14 weeks. Fourteen sounds like so much less than Sixteen, don't ya say?
Last Friday Ryan and I ate dinner at Red Robin on the waterfront. I feel like such a tourist when I go down there. One of the shops had scrubs with the names of doctors from Grey's Anatomy stitched on the front. I thought that was really funny. Who is going to buy those? Grey's Anatomy isn't actually filmed in Seattle. Lame. If you are one who would like to own a pair of scrubs with a pretend doctors name stitched on them, I'm sorry. Really. Just hide them when I come over so I don't have to tease you.
There isn't really any point in me telling you where we ate as it was what happened afterwards that is so funny.
We were walking back to the car - which we totally scored on free off street parking, by the way. Oh, that reminds me. It's time for PSA (public service announcement).
If you are out of town visiting the big city - listen up Tennessee, or was it Kentucky or Pennsylvania? Anyway. After an exciting day of touring Seattle, watching fish fly, going to the top of the space needle, maybe even a ferry ride and it is time to get in your car and go back to the hotel, airport, cruise terminal etc. and you hop in your car - do NOT put your key in the ignition until you are ready to leave the parking space. See, when you put your key in the ignition and you are parked on a small hill you will want to put your foot on the brake which illuminates the break light which signals other drivers you are leaving. IF you do decide to put your key in the ignition - check your rear view mirror to see if anyone is waiting for your coveted space - or take your foot off the break. Also, word to those who do not have to practice their parallel parking skills often - slow, smooth movements are preferable to lurching forward and backward, slamming on your brakes after not cranking your wheel enough.
Back to the other story. On our walk back to the car parked in a free spot I looked down at my ever expanding belly and said something to the baby. I said, "What do you think about that, little what's your name?" Ryan heard, "What do you think about that little Jermaine." Sure I come up with new names quite often but Jermaine? I laughed so hard - then told him what I said - then he laughed with me. We had not yet come up with a name for the baby. Everyone else calls theirs peanut or pumpkin that I didn't want to follow suit. Now, we have a name for the baby until it gets here. So from here on out if you see a post or comment on Jermaine you know I'm writing about the baby.
Argh! Bob is driving me nuts!!! She keeps trying to break through the locked cat door in the kitchen (that leads to the basement). I know she is not that dumb. It's locked, Bob! No matter how many times you ram it with your your cute little head it is going to stay locked! I had to give the cats a bath last week. Yes, I used cats and bath in the same sentence. Bob & Gwen are long haired cats. You figure out why they needed a bath. In order for them to stay clean we had to keep them out of the sawdust in the basement until they dried. I was going to unlock the cat door last night but Ryan reminded me the furnace people are coming tomorrow and the cats will need to be upstairs anyway. Poor Bobbi. She freaked me out the other night when it was just me in the house - Ryan was in Yakima for a conference. Bob chose to try and break into the downstairs when I went to bed. I hear is something rattling the kitchen door. I know it's not someone trying to break into the house that managed to get in through the highly secured basement - but you never know. Did I forget to lock one of three exterior doors? Did Ryan leave a window open? I figured it was Bob after she started grunting and whining.
I was so antsy to have my final day written in stone because I wanted to start a count down on my calendar that I stare at all day long at work. I made three separate counts. Month, week and day. There are 3.5 months left, 16 weeks and 76 days. The months and weeks are of actual time that will have to elapse until I leave. The day count however is just work days. That means weekends, holidays (Independence Day & Labor Day) and vacation are not included.
My friend Jenn became a little annoyed with my artful counting system when I didn't give her the manual for April countdowns. I kept telling her the ultrasound, where we find out the sex of the baby, was in 2 weeks. Well, 2 weeks in a countdown to something as exciting as finding out what we are having calls for my special counting method to soothe my impatient self.
Here is what I learned as a 5 year old when counting down the days to Christmas and all the glory Christmas entails:
1. Never count the day you are in - even if it is 5 a.m. It doesn't count.
2. Never count the day of the holiday. What's the point?
3. As the day draws closer the count down excludes Christmas Eve - which is another great day in and of itself.
4. When you are about a week out you don't count the following day to the one you are currently in.
I know, it's five year old logic but hey, it works for me. Now I could care less about Christmas presents, now I just love spending time with my family and eating all of the black olives and pickles from the relish tray. Although these days I have to share the salty treats with my niece and nephew. They are SO lucky I'm such a kind, benevolent auntie that I bestow upon them the privilege of eating from the relish tray. I must allow the little ones to carry on the tradition of olive fingers as lo, my fingers do cause the olives to split in half.
Since we are so far out in the count down we are also able to shave off the week we are in and the last week of the count down. So that leaves me with 14 weeks. Fourteen sounds like so much less than Sixteen, don't ya say?
Last Friday Ryan and I ate dinner at Red Robin on the waterfront. I feel like such a tourist when I go down there. One of the shops had scrubs with the names of doctors from Grey's Anatomy stitched on the front. I thought that was really funny. Who is going to buy those? Grey's Anatomy isn't actually filmed in Seattle. Lame. If you are one who would like to own a pair of scrubs with a pretend doctors name stitched on them, I'm sorry. Really. Just hide them when I come over so I don't have to tease you.
There isn't really any point in me telling you where we ate as it was what happened afterwards that is so funny.
We were walking back to the car - which we totally scored on free off street parking, by the way. Oh, that reminds me. It's time for PSA (public service announcement).
If you are out of town visiting the big city - listen up Tennessee, or was it Kentucky or Pennsylvania? Anyway. After an exciting day of touring Seattle, watching fish fly, going to the top of the space needle, maybe even a ferry ride and it is time to get in your car and go back to the hotel, airport, cruise terminal etc. and you hop in your car - do NOT put your key in the ignition until you are ready to leave the parking space. See, when you put your key in the ignition and you are parked on a small hill you will want to put your foot on the brake which illuminates the break light which signals other drivers you are leaving. IF you do decide to put your key in the ignition - check your rear view mirror to see if anyone is waiting for your coveted space - or take your foot off the break. Also, word to those who do not have to practice their parallel parking skills often - slow, smooth movements are preferable to lurching forward and backward, slamming on your brakes after not cranking your wheel enough.
Back to the other story. On our walk back to the car parked in a free spot I looked down at my ever expanding belly and said something to the baby. I said, "What do you think about that, little what's your name?" Ryan heard, "What do you think about that little Jermaine." Sure I come up with new names quite often but Jermaine? I laughed so hard - then told him what I said - then he laughed with me. We had not yet come up with a name for the baby. Everyone else calls theirs peanut or pumpkin that I didn't want to follow suit. Now, we have a name for the baby until it gets here. So from here on out if you see a post or comment on Jermaine you know I'm writing about the baby.
Argh! Bob is driving me nuts!!! She keeps trying to break through the locked cat door in the kitchen (that leads to the basement). I know she is not that dumb. It's locked, Bob! No matter how many times you ram it with your your cute little head it is going to stay locked! I had to give the cats a bath last week. Yes, I used cats and bath in the same sentence. Bob & Gwen are long haired cats. You figure out why they needed a bath. In order for them to stay clean we had to keep them out of the sawdust in the basement until they dried. I was going to unlock the cat door last night but Ryan reminded me the furnace people are coming tomorrow and the cats will need to be upstairs anyway. Poor Bobbi. She freaked me out the other night when it was just me in the house - Ryan was in Yakima for a conference. Bob chose to try and break into the downstairs when I went to bed. I hear is something rattling the kitchen door. I know it's not someone trying to break into the house that managed to get in through the highly secured basement - but you never know. Did I forget to lock one of three exterior doors? Did Ryan leave a window open? I figured it was Bob after she started grunting and whining.
Monday, June 04, 2007
Mexican Cantina & Optic Nerves
I woke up around 6:30 this morning from a very vivid, very bizarre dream. The alligator dream doesn't come close to this one. As I told Ryan this morning the dream not only takes the cake for wierdest dream I've ever had - it made the cake then baked the cake before it took the cake.
Here is what I wrote down this morning while it was fresh in my head.
My friend Jenn invited me to go to dinner with her at this place she really liked in South Park (almost an up & coming area of South Seattle) so I met up with her at her at her employer's house, Mike and Haley, for whom she is a nanny. Jenn and Haley were out of sorts and the boys, Everett and Alex, were not at the house – odd because they were not with either parent or the nanny. Jenn and Haley are talking about Mike who is not home. It turns out Mike is a serial killer but he only kills female family members and hides the bodies somewhere and stacks them all together. I don't think this is news to Jenn or Haley but it is certainly news to me. Everyone thought it would be a good idea for us to leave before Mike came home so we wouldn’t slip and let on that we knew. Haley wasn’t going to join us for dinner for some reason.
Standing in the kitchen we heard tires in the drive so Jenn and I ran out the back door to Mike’s other car that was in the back with Haley’s car; they let Jenn use their vehicles and tonight was no exception. Jenn unlocked the car and we jumped in just before he pulled around the corner. Mike pulled up next to us on the passenger side and Jenn unrolled my window to say bye to Mike and to thank him for letting us use his car.
Our drive from Olympia, where Mike and Haley live, to the dive we ate at in South Park must have been uneventful because it wasn’t part and parcel with the rest of the weirdness. (I don't know why I went from Seattle to Olympia to meet Jenn just to go back to Seattle for dinner).
Jenn parked Mike's car in a sketchy neighborhood that you could see was on its way up. People were making improvements to their homes and yards. That made me feel a little safer. Unfortunately we had to leave the quasi safety of that neighborhood and cross a road that may as well have been the proverbial tracks to the "other side".
It was like a movie: Jen and I standing on the side of road looking across at the restaurant she wanted me to try. By that time it was dark out and the dive was dimly lit. More sketchiness was to be had in the form of pedestrians walking by and hassling us.
We made it safely into the restaurant which was busy. The floors were dirt and sloped and the furniture was cheap lawn furniture - like the ugly plastic chairs we have in our own back yard. It was like we were in a Mexican Cantina – although in Mexico they would at least have concrete floors that are level.
Jenn sees a friend we are meeting – unbeknownst to me – who is sitting there waiting for us. The friend is enjoying a cigarette and there was another woman – another friend of Jenn’s – who tells smoking lady that I’m pregnant so the woman politely put out her cigarette on the dirt floor.
We eat a delicious meal which I was not at all afraid to eat, oddly enough. The place was empty by the time we were done; not even an employee was left in the building. Jenn pulled out Mike’s car keys and was playing with them - she was testing the car alarm function and discovered that the alarm was broken. She pushed a button that normally made a sound regardless of the distance from the car. I thought it would be wise if we grabbed some umbrellas in the lost and found near the door. They were the really long ones with metal tips. Who knew Seattleites can’t hold onto an umbrella at a small Mexican cantina?
Our route back to the car looked nothing like the way we went in. We had to climb a huge set of stairs that you find all over Seattle neighborhoods that give easy access through a hilly neighborhood. I noticed someone in the shadows trying to hide on the side of the stairs, pressed back into the shrubs and blackberries. I think he had a dog with him, too. It was the dog that gave him away.
By this time I have Kea, my yellow lab, with me. She is, of course, excited to see another dog. Maybe she gave it away that someone was up there. I don’t remember who yelled at who first – I think I yelled at the shadowy figure. Sure we probably could have gone around and not used the stairs or used a cell phone to call a cab or the police to find the shadowy figure but no - the dream must go on. I tell the shadowy man we are armed and that he should leave us alone.
Shadowy figure then steps out to become slightly less shadowy under a street light. He calls me by name. He knows me? Do I know him? He sounded disappointed and a little angry with me. For those of you who watch the TV show Lost he is the guy that kidnaps Kate and holds her at gunpoint in the jungle and tells Jack, Sawyer and Sayid that there is a line here that they should not cross.
Somehow he gets me and throws me in the ocean. The dream does not end here. Here is where it gets weird. Shadowy figure man raised me – in the ocean. This all slowly comes back to me as I swim around under the water and don’t drown or die from hypothermia.
The rest of the dream must be a flashback to my time before I left life unda da sea…
I recall swimming under a small boat – like a row boat. I think they caught me and that was how I was taken from the ocean. Maybe my first step in coming to terms with where I was and who I was, was remembering how I was taken from my ‘home’ in the first place.
Next I was in some sort of school. It looked like normal school but it was under water of course. In science class there was a boy I had a crush on who obviously liked me too because he made some presents for me… optic nerves and eyeballs. First he showed me the optic nerves he made for me then the eyeballs. I said, “This is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me!” Odd. I was looking at the optic nerves and the eyeballs because I already had my own set. Still, I used his nerves and eyeballs.
With my new optic nerves and eyeballs we went to the movies. In the dream I am watching it in third person if that makes sense. I was in the theater with my boy crush-nerve-eyeball-making-friend and a bunch of other classmates and you see the approach to the theater – kind of Finding Nemo style. It was dark ‘outside’ of the theater and you could see the pulsating, glowing light from the screen. It was a rocky cave and with the light coming out of the theater; you could see the marine plant life moving with the current. The movie was a Johnny Dep flick for those of you interested, I think it was Finding Neverland.
Then I woke up. That was the end of the dream.
I would really like to know how my subconsicous pieced that one together. Really. I can put a few pieces fo the puzzle together.
Jenn - I was thinking about her at work the other day
Mexican Cantina - Pregnant food craving, perhaps? I did have a delicious Taco Time burrito today for lunch.
Nerves & Eyeballs - My friend Nicole and her husband Matt are optometrists who write a killer blog that I check every day in hopes that they posted yet another great essay on... anything, Jelly Tots or Oppression in Palestine.
Johnny Dep - Ryan and I watched a show that is looking for the best look alikes and one person looked just like Johnny Dep as Captain Jack Sparrow - am I nuts that I think he's hot as Captain Sparrow? (I can say this, Ryan told me the other day he thought the checker at the Red Apple Market was really cute). Even Steven.
Living in the ocean - I dream of swimming under water like most people dream about flying.
What I would like to know is how my subconscious wove it all together.
Here is what I wrote down this morning while it was fresh in my head.
My friend Jenn invited me to go to dinner with her at this place she really liked in South Park (almost an up & coming area of South Seattle) so I met up with her at her at her employer's house, Mike and Haley, for whom she is a nanny. Jenn and Haley were out of sorts and the boys, Everett and Alex, were not at the house – odd because they were not with either parent or the nanny. Jenn and Haley are talking about Mike who is not home. It turns out Mike is a serial killer but he only kills female family members and hides the bodies somewhere and stacks them all together. I don't think this is news to Jenn or Haley but it is certainly news to me. Everyone thought it would be a good idea for us to leave before Mike came home so we wouldn’t slip and let on that we knew. Haley wasn’t going to join us for dinner for some reason.
Standing in the kitchen we heard tires in the drive so Jenn and I ran out the back door to Mike’s other car that was in the back with Haley’s car; they let Jenn use their vehicles and tonight was no exception. Jenn unlocked the car and we jumped in just before he pulled around the corner. Mike pulled up next to us on the passenger side and Jenn unrolled my window to say bye to Mike and to thank him for letting us use his car.
Our drive from Olympia, where Mike and Haley live, to the dive we ate at in South Park must have been uneventful because it wasn’t part and parcel with the rest of the weirdness. (I don't know why I went from Seattle to Olympia to meet Jenn just to go back to Seattle for dinner).
Jenn parked Mike's car in a sketchy neighborhood that you could see was on its way up. People were making improvements to their homes and yards. That made me feel a little safer. Unfortunately we had to leave the quasi safety of that neighborhood and cross a road that may as well have been the proverbial tracks to the "other side".
It was like a movie: Jen and I standing on the side of road looking across at the restaurant she wanted me to try. By that time it was dark out and the dive was dimly lit. More sketchiness was to be had in the form of pedestrians walking by and hassling us.
We made it safely into the restaurant which was busy. The floors were dirt and sloped and the furniture was cheap lawn furniture - like the ugly plastic chairs we have in our own back yard. It was like we were in a Mexican Cantina – although in Mexico they would at least have concrete floors that are level.
Jenn sees a friend we are meeting – unbeknownst to me – who is sitting there waiting for us. The friend is enjoying a cigarette and there was another woman – another friend of Jenn’s – who tells smoking lady that I’m pregnant so the woman politely put out her cigarette on the dirt floor.
We eat a delicious meal which I was not at all afraid to eat, oddly enough. The place was empty by the time we were done; not even an employee was left in the building. Jenn pulled out Mike’s car keys and was playing with them - she was testing the car alarm function and discovered that the alarm was broken. She pushed a button that normally made a sound regardless of the distance from the car. I thought it would be wise if we grabbed some umbrellas in the lost and found near the door. They were the really long ones with metal tips. Who knew Seattleites can’t hold onto an umbrella at a small Mexican cantina?
Our route back to the car looked nothing like the way we went in. We had to climb a huge set of stairs that you find all over Seattle neighborhoods that give easy access through a hilly neighborhood. I noticed someone in the shadows trying to hide on the side of the stairs, pressed back into the shrubs and blackberries. I think he had a dog with him, too. It was the dog that gave him away.
By this time I have Kea, my yellow lab, with me. She is, of course, excited to see another dog. Maybe she gave it away that someone was up there. I don’t remember who yelled at who first – I think I yelled at the shadowy figure. Sure we probably could have gone around and not used the stairs or used a cell phone to call a cab or the police to find the shadowy figure but no - the dream must go on. I tell the shadowy man we are armed and that he should leave us alone.
Shadowy figure then steps out to become slightly less shadowy under a street light. He calls me by name. He knows me? Do I know him? He sounded disappointed and a little angry with me. For those of you who watch the TV show Lost he is the guy that kidnaps Kate and holds her at gunpoint in the jungle and tells Jack, Sawyer and Sayid that there is a line here that they should not cross.
Somehow he gets me and throws me in the ocean. The dream does not end here. Here is where it gets weird. Shadowy figure man raised me – in the ocean. This all slowly comes back to me as I swim around under the water and don’t drown or die from hypothermia.
The rest of the dream must be a flashback to my time before I left life unda da sea…
I recall swimming under a small boat – like a row boat. I think they caught me and that was how I was taken from the ocean. Maybe my first step in coming to terms with where I was and who I was, was remembering how I was taken from my ‘home’ in the first place.
Next I was in some sort of school. It looked like normal school but it was under water of course. In science class there was a boy I had a crush on who obviously liked me too because he made some presents for me… optic nerves and eyeballs. First he showed me the optic nerves he made for me then the eyeballs. I said, “This is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me!” Odd. I was looking at the optic nerves and the eyeballs because I already had my own set. Still, I used his nerves and eyeballs.
With my new optic nerves and eyeballs we went to the movies. In the dream I am watching it in third person if that makes sense. I was in the theater with my boy crush-nerve-eyeball-making-friend and a bunch of other classmates and you see the approach to the theater – kind of Finding Nemo style. It was dark ‘outside’ of the theater and you could see the pulsating, glowing light from the screen. It was a rocky cave and with the light coming out of the theater; you could see the marine plant life moving with the current. The movie was a Johnny Dep flick for those of you interested, I think it was Finding Neverland.
Then I woke up. That was the end of the dream.
I would really like to know how my subconsicous pieced that one together. Really. I can put a few pieces fo the puzzle together.
Jenn - I was thinking about her at work the other day
Mexican Cantina - Pregnant food craving, perhaps? I did have a delicious Taco Time burrito today for lunch.
Nerves & Eyeballs - My friend Nicole and her husband Matt are optometrists who write a killer blog that I check every day in hopes that they posted yet another great essay on... anything, Jelly Tots or Oppression in Palestine.
Johnny Dep - Ryan and I watched a show that is looking for the best look alikes and one person looked just like Johnny Dep as Captain Jack Sparrow - am I nuts that I think he's hot as Captain Sparrow? (I can say this, Ryan told me the other day he thought the checker at the Red Apple Market was really cute). Even Steven.
Living in the ocean - I dream of swimming under water like most people dream about flying.
What I would like to know is how my subconscious wove it all together.
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