Post A Day Challenge

Posted on Oct 1, 2011 in Uncategorized

The folks at WordPress created a challenge for bloggers to post content once a day, appropriately titled the Post A Day challenge.  Apparently it’s been going on since January to prepare for the National Novel Writing Month in November.

Let me be clear: I have absolutely no intention to write a novel in the month of November.  In case you’ve forgotten, I have some other big event happening that month; writing a novel might distract me from the task of keeping a newborn alive and well.

But, why not jump on the Post A Day bandwagon and a daily write-up a go for the month of October?  31 days is pretty noncommittal.  Plus, WordPress gave me permission for the posts to be crap.  So if you come across mundanities like, “Wow. I just ate half a bag of potato chips” or made up words like “mundanities”, just roll with it.  I have a friend that makes up words all the time, and it’s quite fun actually. (Lauren, I’m looking at you!)

So here goes.  Post #1.  I promise I will try to make them not crappy, but entertaining and witty.  That may become harder the bigger and more irritable I become in my last seven weeks of pregnancy (I’m hoping this will provide some sort of distraction), but please stay with me.  Soon enough I’ll have cute little baby pictures to post about, and who doesn’t love looking at baby pictures?  I just need your support till then.

I also promise that I won’t publicize the posts that will inevitably be crappy.  But feel free to look them up on your own.  Just remember, I am getting very little sleep these days so my vocabulary and sentence structure may be questionable.

If the thought of reading potentially crappy blog posts with made up words and poor grammar is not that appealing to you, think of it this way: I will certainly make you feel smarter and generally better about yourself.  So now I have something to distract myself from my swollen ankles and achy back (plus typing forces me to put down the potato chip bag), and you get to be thankful your mind is still fully in tact.  It’s a win-win!

Happy reading!

 

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Sibling Rivalry Hurts. Just Ask My Brother.

Posted on Sep 29, 2011 in Uncategorized

My younger brother Will had a hard lot growing up: He had to grow up in the shadow of his intelligent, witty, good-looking, outgoing older sister (me).  Over the years he had but one thing to lord over me: his athleticism.  I’ll give credit where credit is due – he was a pretty decent water polo player.  Meanwhile, team sports weren’t my thing.  Hand-Eye coordination? Not something I possess.   And Will just loved to boast of his athletic superiority.  After all, it was all he had. But then I discovered I was a pretty decent runner.  Certainly not the fastest in the bunch, but I could go for a while.  Sure, Will could tread water for a few minutes and throw a ball into a net, but could he run 8-10 miles on a daily basis?  Not so much.  No longer could he boast of athletic superiority. This threatened him, and recently he decided he finally needed to prove his running dominance.  Oh silly Will.  Running is for Diana! Last year Will announced he was going to run the Marine Corps Marathon in October 2010.  I had to admire his ambition, if not his hubris.  You see, his reason for registering for the race was to run a marathon before I did.  Well, we (my dad and I) decided to make it a family event, so my dad, mom, husband and I all decided to register.  Again, Will was not pleased. “You can’t run the marathon!” he protested.  “It’s my marathon!” Well clearly that just wasn’t true.  I relished the opportunity to compete against my brother, especially because I was confident I could beat him.  Interestingly, shortly after I registered Will backed out of the race, claiming it would interfere with his water polo training.  Sure, sure.  Whatever you say, Will. Out of my family, my husband and I were the only ones that actually ran the marathon, as my parents suffered injuries and illness.  In the end, I ran a 4:00:58 time.  Like I said before, I’m not a speed demon, but I was very satisfied with what...

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Appeal to Matt Nathanson

Posted on Sep 27, 2011 in Uncategorized

To anyone that has any connection to Matt Nathanson, please feel free to pass this along. Dear Matt Nathanson, I am loving Modern Love.  Seriously.  It’s on repeat on my iPod.  I sing along at a louder-than-acceptable volume, considering I’m singing while on walks through my neighborhood.  Sure, I get some awkward looks from fellow walkers, joggers, bikers, small children and dogs, but that is how much I love the album.  And I really, really want to see you live. Problem: You are not touring anywhere near my hometown in southeastern Virginia.  I considered making the 4-5 hour drive to Washington D.C. to catch your show there, however I was advised that at eight months pregnant, I should avoid unnecessary driving to see a concert that will likely go way beyond my bedtime anyway.  I had to concur, though with great regret. So I have a proposition for you: You come play a private show in my home.  In exchange, I will cook you a homemade meal.  I bet you don’t get a lot of homemade meals on tour, am I right?  OK, maybe you don’t want a homemade meal (if you’ve read this, I don’t blame you), but I can purchase some excellent takeout.  I promise my husband won’t mind.  In fact, he probably won’t even be here! Does that creep you out?  I promise I’m not some crazy-stalker fan.  In fact, I know absolutely nothing about your personal life.  If you’re still creeped out, I am sure I can scrounge up some other ladies that would be willing to watch you perform live in my home.  I’ll hit up my pre-natal yoga class. In fact, we can spin this as some sort of community outreach project!  Music is supposed to be good for babies, right?  Think of all the good you would be doing for all those babies in utero! Developing their brains song after song.  The press would be great!  Not to mention, I’ve read that when a baby is exposed to music in the womb, the same music can have a calming affect on them...

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Don’t Mess with the Non Om Mom

Posted on Sep 25, 2011 in Uncategorized

Because I will take you on.  A snooty San Diegan yoga instructor now knows this quite well. I have been wrapped up in wedding madness for the past few days (hence the recent lack of blogging), and had the pleasure of spending a couple of days on Coronado Island, where my best friend held her ceremony and reception. The morning of the wedding, I was up bright and early and decided to fit in a quick workout at the hotel gym.  The gym was one of the better hotel gyms I have used: two rooms dedicated to cardio equipment and weight lifting machines, and one generous space for stretching and free weights.  As a self-proclaimed gym rat, I was very impressed with the quality of the equipment and the abundance of workout options. After a quick cardio session, I went to the strength and stretching room to do some light weight lifting (nothing too strenuous!) and a cool down.  Stretching is kind of important when you’re pregnant – gotta keep those hips open and those back aches at bay. Two women were in the room practicing yoga.  Not wanting to disturb them, I quietly walked to the far corner and silently picked out a few dumbbells. “Excuse me,” the instructor piped up.  “Can you wait until we are finished with our class?” Class?  What class?  There is one other person in here. “I’m sorry,” I replied quite politely, “But I am on a tight schedule this morning and I can’t wait.” “But you are very distracting,” the yoga instructor replied. Funny, you’re the one who interrupted your “class” to argue with the pregnant woman silently stretching her hamstrings in the far corner of the room.  “I’m sorry, but this is the only space to do this,” I said and continued about my business.  The instructor turned away in a huff and resumed her instruction. At the end of her “class”, she turned to her single participant and said just loud enough for me to hear, “It’s so nice when people respect our space.  I’m sorry that didn’t happen today”. ...

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Craft Connoisseur? Not So Much.

Posted on Sep 20, 2011 in Uncategorized

In my effort to expand my social network, I recently attended my first MOPS meeting.  MOPS stands for Mothers of Preschoolers, a slight misnomer since it includes mothers of children ages 0-5, as well as expectant moms like me.  While I was excited to meet other moms and moms-to-be, I have to admit that I was a little concerned about this kickoff meeting.  The email reminder had mentioned we would be decorating nametags to go along with the theme for the year.  This sounded crafty to me, and I don’t do crafts. However I am determined that my daughter will not be raised a reclusive loner, and so for the sake of her future socialization, I put my doubts aside and showed up.  Surely I could decorate a name tag to secure my daughter some future play dates, right?  I was met by a group of lovely and gracious women – who in addition to being lovely and gracious also provided cookies.  So far, so good. It was not long into the session that we were given a schedule for the year.  My worst fears were confirmed: Crafts are indeed a central focus of this group.  In fact, every other meeting revolves around a craft project.  That’s a lot of art for this girl. I tried to cover my panic with a placid smile, but beads of sweat began pooling on my forehead, my heart began pounding against my chest, and I felt the sudden urge to flee.  But I was too gripped by terror to move!  I have nothing against arts & crafts or the people who partake in such things, but I myself possess absolutely zero artistic ability.  The thought of being subjected to art projects on a monthly basis and thus exposing my embarrassing lack of skill to a group of artistically-able women makes me feel extremely vulnerable. It’s my parents’ fault, really.  You see, rather than provide support and encouragement for my childhood artistic endeavors, they favored mockery and ridicule.  Before you think my parents are cruel, pitiless monsters, it’s okay – really!  Did I...

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Name My Baby

Posted on Sep 16, 2011 in Uncategorized

Folks, I need your help.  This is serious.  I am now 31 weeks along – for the math-challenged, that means I have a short nine weeks before Baby makes her appearance in this world – and my husband and I are completely unable to agree upon her name.  Why not?  The below conversation represents a typical exchange on the topic of names: I throw out a cute, slightly sassy, but not over-the-top ridiculous name. Damon: No. Me: Why not? Damon: Veto. Me: “Veto” does not answer my question. Damon: I do not recognize that as a name. Me: You do not recognize it as a name?  What does that even mean? Damon: I’ve never heard of it. Me, scornfully: Just because you’ve never heard of it doesn’t mean it’s not a legitimate name! Damon: Oh yes it does. Me:  Oh No it does not.  Why should our child be punished with a boring name because you lack any sense of sophistication or creativity? Damon, skeptically: Really, Diana? I stare at my stubborn husband, boiling with rage.   Damon: No.  It’s a professional athlete’s nickname.  We’re having a girl. Me: AHA! You have heard of it! Damon: But it’s a dude’s name! Me: I beg to differ.  I know of at least three actresses with that name.  All. Women.  I’ve never heard of this so-called athlete. Damon: Veto. Me, voice an unusually high pitch: You are so close-minded!  Ican’teventalktoyouanymore! Meanwhile Damon’s name choices seem to have been inspired solely by 90s sitcoms.  Until he suggests something, like, say, Esmeralda.* Me: You’re joking, right? Damon: What? Me: Please tell me you are kidding. Damon: What!? I like the name. Me: Oh my gosh no you don’t. Damon, exasperated: What!?  I like it.  I do. Me: I don’t believe you.  There is no way. Damon remains silent, unable to comprehend his uncomprehending wife. Me: OMG.  We are not having this conversation.  I did not marry a man who would seriously suggest Esmeralda* as a name worthy of our daughter. Damon: You are so close-minded!  I can’t talk to you anymore. See friends,...

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