A Hurried, Harried "Happy Holidays!"

The first thought in my head this morning was, "It should be illegal for someone to drive after getting 4 hours of sleep the night before." And by "4 hours," what I really mean is, at best, 2-and-a-half because my collection of pillows and blankets has gotten so large that every time I want to so much as move my foot in the middle of the night, I have to practically get out of bed first. This could be remedied by getting rid of some of the pillows and blankets, but then, I'd have to face the fact that my biggest problem doesn't stem from external forms of padding, but rather internal forms of padding and that's a thought that I'm just not ready to accept yet.

Last night, we packed up kit, kaboodle, and canine and bundled a distressing number of boxes, bags, and one very large kennel into the poor, sweet Matrix. The Matrix, for its part, saw us coming with our mountain of luggage and almost handed in a letter of resignation. I would like to take this opportunity to point out the fact that among all those bags? Mine is THE SMALLEST ONE. The other 45 or so belong to McMoose and The Dog. Although I do have to admit that I'm taking several pillows and blankets because (a) the car is packed so full that the passenger seat no longer reclines, which makes it very difficult to get in a good nap, and (b) McMoose is driving the majority of the way, which means he gets to set the temperature in the car and he has been known to drive around with A/C blaring in the middle of December because his hands feel warm.

All that, just to say that we'll be leaving for Mississippi in about 30 minutes here (although past experience suggests that those 3o minutes are going to turn to 75 at a startling rate). And THAT was just to say that posting here will be probably be non-existent for the next two weeks. So Merry Christmas and Happy New Year's and see ya in 2009!

Just Can't Compose A Coherent Post...

There are some mornings when leaving the apartment is just the most difficult thing ever and this morning fell squarely within that category. I woke up at 5:30 and then lay in bed for the next 90 minutes alternately trying to fall back asleep or convince myself that I should get up and shower. I WANTED to get up and shower, but the bed was so warm and the rest of the room was so cold that the thought of standing in the coldness and waiting for the shower to warm up was just too much. Plus, The Dog was using my foot as a pillow and he moans pitifully when I disturb him. So instead, I stayed in bed and thought of all the strange things that could happen today. None of the things on this list actually happened, but that's not to say that my day was uneventful either...

-A squirrel tried to kill itself by jumping in front of my car at the last second. I swerved and splashed cold water on him instead. Serves him right, I feel.

-I got to work to find that someone had turned my computer on, opened up a Word document, and typed "Hi, Anisha" and left it on the screen. As far as I know, I was the only one at the office today AND yesterday, so apparently, the campus ghost has been skulking around.

-When I returned to my car after a (very much) shortened day at work, I found a guy from campus parking services standing there. Apparently, they've had a lot of people trying to use fake parking permits lately, so even though my car HAS A PARKING STICKER, he felt it was necessary to run my plates to see if I had actually been issued the pass. I asked him if the fake passes looked like the real ones and he replied, "No. It's pretty easy to pick them out." So...um...why was he running my plates?

-On the drive home, the car in front of me had a christmas tree tied to their roof and one of the branches came flying into my car. I thought my windshield would finally give up the fight and break, but it soldiered bravely on, so I continue to have an intact, albeit cracked, windshield.

Dedicated To My Dear Animals

'Twas 9 days before Christmas
And all through the room,
The animals were running
And chasing, zoom-zoom.

The dog just kept scratching
His legs and his back,
Until I threatened
To put his head in a sack.

The cats fought on the bed
And they fought on the floor.
They fought on the couch
And crashed into the door.

While McMoose with his computer
And I with my yarn
Just shook our sad heads.
We no longer give a darn.

If the animals, we've decided,
Want to destroy this place,
We'll gather our clothes
And away we shall race...

To a cottage on the beach
Or perhaps a mountain cabin
Someplace away from these animals,
That we will feel fab in.

Crazy? Me? Nooooo.

If I were a dinosaur, I'd want to be the kind that has the flaps of skin tucked beside its head so that when I got frustrated, I could hiss and puff out the flaps and look all menacing-like. I came to this realization when my computer froze up for the 15th time this morning and I put my hands behind my ears, flapped them forward and snarled at the computer. My office mates probably think I've lost my mind, but it was oddly therapeutic.

Apparently, this is the kind of crazy behavior you start to exhibit when...
(a) You can't stay asleep for more than 40 minutes at a time.
(b) You're facing the possibility that you might be spending the next 5 months of your life timing "perfectly harmless, completely normal" Braxton-Hicks contractions. If they're so harmless and normal, why do I have to time them? And also, why do I have to drink 20 ounces of water each time I have one? And also, have you ever tried drinking 20 ounces of water 8-12 times a day? IT. CAN'T. BE. DONE.
(c) You call the computer people YET AGAIN and are told YET AGAIN that your computer is perfectly fine. If it's fine, then why won't it let me check my email? Or open a spreadsheet? Or type 2 consecutive words without freezing up?
(d) You get a call from your vet telling you that your dog has cancer. And then, you have to explain to 3 different people that no, that's impossible, because your last visit was a month ago and they already gave you all the test results that said he was fine, so unless they broke into your apartment in the middle of the night and ran unauthorized tests, they've got the wrong number. And after 15 minutes of telling you that "denial is a perfectly normal stage in the grief process," one of them FINALLY thinks to actually check the file and finds that in fact, they've got the wrong number. So now, not only am I annoyed by their lack of conscientiousness, I also feel terrible for the person whose dog actually does have cancer.

Surely, you understand why pretending to be a dinosaur is really not all that odd at this point in time.

Back To The Drawing Board

In our quest to find The Perfect Explorer, we took what turned out to be a Very Long Drive to the other end of Raleigh last Saturday and looked at a moderately cool, red one. Granted, it wasn't blue and it drove like a typically big car, which is to say that while I was test driving it, I was very aware that I was farther away from the ground than I like to be and furthermore, that the car could very well roll over at any given moment. I know that SUVs don't USUALLY roll over without provocation, but given their center of gravity, they COULD and that's what bothers me about them. The thing I had liked best about the blue Explorer we drove a few weeks ago is that it drove just like my Matrix, so it felt very comfortable. This red one felt very different, so I was kind of iffy about the whole thing, but it had reasonably low mileage at a very reasonably low price, so I was willing to get over my reservations.

As it turned out, I no longer have to get over those reservations because the darn thing got sold to someone else. And now that buying it is no longer an option, I've somehow managed to completely idealize it and all I can think about is the sun roof and the cool on board computer that told us how many miles we could go before we had to stop for gas and the little number pad lock thing. Plus, the whole low mileage and low cost thing. Plus, now we have to start back at square one, which is the "Locate A Suitable Car In The Raleigh Area" step, which is no fun at all because it involves weeks of McMoose looking at random cars and SUVs and then TELLING ME about things like their engine. And although I'm glad to be included in the car-choosing process, the thing about engines is that as long as the car HAS one? I'm happy.

Accepting the Inevitable

Signs that led me to believe that we might actually have a nice, cold, snowy winter this year:

• The past summer and fall were very hot, but also very humid, which was in stark contrast to the very hot and dry pattern of the last few years. I took that to mean that this winter would be cold and humid (and therefore, snowy), rather than cold and dry.
• McMoose and others who have experienced more than two Raleigh winters claim that every 4th winter brings a lot of snow. And by "a lot," they mean "one snowstorm that leads to 3-4 inches of actual accumulation." And at this point? I'd settle for that. I have come down off my high horse and would now be happy for ANY ACCUMULATION WHATSOEVER.
• We had some extremely cold weeks in November. I mean, there were highs in the 30's, for crying out loud. And there was frost on the car when I went out in the morning. Frost! If that doesn't signal coming coldness, I don't know what does.

Signs that are now leading me to believe that my initial expectations were mistaken:

• It was 70 degrees out on Tuesday.
• It was in the high 60's yesterday.
• It's in the slightly lower 60's today. With lots of rain.
• The rest of the week is supposed to be in the high 50's. It might dip into the high 40's at some point. But probably not.

So apparently, we've decided YET AGAIN to skip the winter portion of the year and just go straight ahead to spring. And actually? I'm starting to be okay with this because I've discovered that shivering while pregnant is not so much fun. Things rattle around inside and make me worry that maybe my liver has come loose. So...okay. I can make my peace with the balmy winter. And now that I've said that, I'm sure we'll be covered under 2 feet of snow by this time next week.

The Boy-Bug

Yesterday, The Bug and I had our 18 week ultrasound, where it was summarily determined that The Bug is a Boy Bug who displays an odd combination of being stubborn, yet laid back. Of course, when you combine me with McMoose, what you get is precisely an odd combination of stubborn (me) and laid back (not so much me). Based on what I knew about The Bug's seemingly nocturnal patterns of activity, I decided that it would be a good idea if, in addition to my usual Very Tall glass of water, I were also to drink a Very Tall glass of orange juice before the appointment because I had read that orange juice makes fetuses wake up and move around. I had also read that being exposed to the ultrasound waves themselves makes fetuses wake up and move around.

The Bug, apparently, had not read any of these things, so he sat there like a bump on a log the whole time. In fact, the only effect that the orange juice had was in making my bladder so uncomfortably full that I was worried I'd pee on the ultrasound tech. At one point, the tech and McMoose both swore that The Bug flexed his foot, but I missed that moment of alertness. And then, when the tech needed to take a measurement of his head, he turned the other way and steadfastly refused to turn back, even though she jiggled and jostled my belly relentlessly...the belly which housed the aforementioned Very Full Bladder. I'm assuming she did eventually get the measurements she needed because she quit torturing me and printed out some pictures, two of which I will be happy to share.

The Bug's profile (of head and belly) with his mouth open:

The Bug (head, belly, and arms) looking like he's ready to punch anyone who questions his odd, alien-like appearance:

Of course, I also have some pictures that, um, prove that he's a boy, but I don't think the Internet needs to be privy to those...

Getting Lost and Gloating

You'd think that after two and a half years of living in a city, I'd at least be able to find my way from a restaurant back to campus. You'd be sorely, sorely wrong. Somehow, I ended up going in the opposite direction, merging onto strange highways that I didn't even know EXISTED and almost hit a UPS truck because I was fiddling with the oh-so-uncooperative GPS thing. And this is what happens when you have no directional sense whatsoever. I blame genetics for this. And also? I hope The Bug gets McMoose's annoyingly unerring sense of direction.

And as an aside to McMoose: I might not have the best sense of direction, but I do have pretty awesome senses about other things, as evidenced by the fact that I was right, I was right, I was RIGHT, RIGHT, RIGHT! Ha.

Suggestions For The Road

1. Do not stop in the middle of a busy road to drop off or pick up a passenger. I know it's cold, but this is why parking lots exist. The gratitude that your friend feels will in no way offset all the negative feelings (and words and possibly rocks) being hurled at you by the 15 cars waiting behind you.

2. If you're a driving a Very Large Truck, maybe it's not the best idea to park on a Very Small Street. Because again, the 15 cars who are stuck behind you while you go buy a soda? ARE NOT PLEASED.

3. If it's not snowing and it's not expected to snow any time in the next two centuries or so, maybe it's not necessary for gas stations to salt their parking lots. Because then, when for some inexplicable reason, they decide to flood their parking lot with 3 inches of water, it all turns into a nasty, slushy mess which cakes itself onto (a) cars, and (b) people's shoes. Or maybe the real suggestion here is: Don't flood your parking lot.

4. The zebra stripes on the street indicate a crosswalk. Aka: a place where pedestrians can cross the street WITHOUT THE FEAR OF IMPENDING DEATH. Apparently, they don't cover this little tidbit of information in driver's education courses anymore because how else would you explain the fact that EVERY SINGLE TIME I've crossed a particular street on campus, cars zoom up, hit their brakes at the last minute, and then have the nerve to sit there glaring at me?

Intricacies of Today

• I tried something new at Bruegger's today and for once, it actually involved a bagel. I didn't actually mean to try it--I just got up to the counter and my brain said "A bowl of chili, please," and my mouth decided it would be funnier to say "Could I have bacon, egg, and cheese on a plain bagel?" And then, I spent the next hour completely confused because I think that's the first time my mouth has ever tried to revolt against my brain. Maybe The Bug was in control of my mouth at that exact instant?
• Today is the last day of class for the semester. It would be very exciting, except that before it's over, I have to give a presentation. More to the point, I have to listen to 4 other people give presentations. And even MORE to the point, I know from previous (dreadful)experience that at least two of these people interpret "10 minute presentation" to mean "45 minute lecture."
• I woke up this morning to find that the bread was not on top of the refrigerator, where it's supposed to be, but instead sitting under our coffee table. I think maybe Black Cat has the feline version of cabin fever, because she definitely dials up her level of CRAZY in the winter.
• We have exactly THREE WEEKS until Christmas. Dude, I need to go buy some presents!

Running Hot And Cold

There are some people who are really, really skilled at getting dressed. They check the weather. They make sure everything matches. They even pick out complementary accessories. And often, they lay out their clothes the night (or the week) before so they don't have to fumble around in their closet each morning. If this is you, I'm deeply envious of you because needless to say, I am not one of these people. I am a person who blindly picks out things to wear each morning and then spends the rest of the day being grouchy about the fact that I'm wearing a sweater during a heat wave.

So many years ago, I decided that they way to compensate for this clothing-related learning disability was to arrange the clothes in my closet according to their appropriate season. And now, my tank tops sit on one end of my closet and my sweaters sit on the other, and never the two shall meet. And for the better part of a decade, this system has worked wonderfully for me. Granted, I might still show up in green corduroy pants and a striped orange and purple sweater, but at least I'm not trying to brave a blizzard in a tank top and shorts.

And then, we moved to Raleigh. Where not only is the weather inconsistent from one day to the next, but it doesn't even stay stable during the course of a single day. This morning, for example, it was 31 degrees when I left the house. So I decided that it would be a coat, gloves, and hat kind of day. And now, 5 hours later? It's 58 degrees. THE ONLY WAY to prepare for this kind of temperature change is if you wear edible clothing and then snack on it over the course of the day. Which I might consider doing tomorrow, when the low is 32 and the high is 61.

This Is Why Good Street Signs Are a Must

Back at the end of August, McMoose and I went to a football game a few hours away from home and since we were planning to be out of the house for about 12 hours and The Dog can only last for about 8 before his bladder explodes, we had asked one of my friends to take him out in the middle of the day. After the game, I checked my cell phone, only to find that this friend had left me 5 messages in a 20 minute window of time.

Message 1 went something like this: "Anisha, we can't find your apartment!" Then, there was message 2: "Well, we found your apartment, but the key doesn't work. We're going to talk to the managers." Message 3: "We talked to the managers and apparently, we were in the wrong building. We're going to the right building now." Message 4: "THE KEY STILL DOESN'T WORK." And finally, message 5: "We were at the wrong building again. But we finally found the right one and we took The Dog out and he marked every bush within a 1 mile radius and then collapsed from the sheer exhaustion of walking for a mile."

Because apparently, there are three apartments in our complex that all have the same number. And although the street names (and therefore, the addresses) for these apartments are different, the street signs are confusing, to say the least. Which explains why it can sometimes be confusing for new people who are trying to navigate around the complex.

Fast-forward to this morning, when I was merrily enjoying my cereal when some people with very heavy boots came clomping up the stairs and began pounding on my door. Assuming it was the maintenance people coming to check the air filter or some similarly mundane thing, I took my time getting to the door. So you can imagine my SHEER PANIC when I opened it and it was not the maintenance people, but rather four very menacing looking police officers.

After some initial confusion about the fact that I was not the person they were looking for, I meekly suggested that perhaps they were looking for one of the other apartments of the same number. And as it turns out, real life cops are much nicer than the sarcastic, quippy ones they show on TV, so after a quick peek at my driver's license, they all clomped back down the stairs, got into their cruisers and drove off, with a news van following close behind. So for the rest of the day, I've been obsessively checking the news websites in vain to see what exactly was going on in my (seemingly very safe) neighborhood this morning. Because come on. FOUR police officers? AND a news van sitting in the parking lot? That seems like pretty big stuff to me. And yet, there hasn't been a single article about what was going on? Maybe I should ask for a police scanner for Christmas.