30 Weeks

It really does fly by, doesn’t it?  It seems that both of my faves JUST had their babies, but one of the babies is 2 months old and the other is 2 weeks old (I think).  I -just- had my 20 week ultrasound, didn’t I?  Now I have 10 weeks left.

I’m glad.  I’m still not in love with actually being pregnant.  I’m uncomfortable all the time and people say the rudest things to me.  Someone from the California office at work actually said "Oh, you’re really big for 7 months…but you were chubby before you got pregnant."  WTF?  This bitch is WAY overweight.  I’m talking on the verge of obese and she’s telling me that I was chubby before I got pregnant?  I mean, I -was- overweight, but only by 15 lbs.  WTF man?  Besides, you just don’t say that to people.  I don’t ring her up and say "Hey, fatty, you’re looking fat today."  Bah.

Duckie and I were supposed to take a Caring for Newborns class last week…except I screwed up the dates.  I even programmed the damn class into my phone for the correct date and set an alarm to remind me.  Except when the alarm went off, I didn’t really look at it.  I said, "Oh, newborn class.  That’s tomorrow." because I thought I’d set the alarm for 24 hours in advance.  Well, I didn’t.  I set it for a few hours in advance.  Anyhow, we felt a little foolish when we showed up at the hospital a day late and the info desk girl had no idea what we were on about.  I was -super- mad at myself and trying to come up with ways to blame/be mad at Duckie, too.  And I knew there was no reason to and I had no right to be mad at him, so I just stopped talking and brooded on the car ride home.  The next class with any openings is April 28, so…that’s just not going to happen.  We could have had the baby by then and, even if we haven’t, I’m not sitting in a 2.5 hour class getting lectured a week from my due date.  Besides, they’ll just go over most of the same stuff (without the added detail) in my labor and delivery class.  And we’ll find a book we can both read.  Or whatever.

Apparently, when Duckie took Sprocket out this morning, Sprocket wanted to run and jump and play in the snow.  For about 5 minutes.  Then he just stared at Duckie and started lifting his legs one at a time and refused to move.  I guess his paws were too cold.  Duckie had to pick him up and carry him back.  Ha!  What a rotten little dog.

So Duckie’s back in bed keeping the dog warm (Sprocket stole my side of the bed) and I’m waiting for 9 to roll around.  I’m meeting a couple of the girls from my old therapy group for lunch at Panera at 11.  I had some worries about that because we gave up fast food for Lent, but Duckie said that Panera is more of a deli (sure, justify it!) and I’d made the plans long before we decided to give anything up for Lent at all.  So, I think I’ll just have a delicious bagel from the bakery or maybe some of their soup and that will be enough to avoid the "fast food" portion.  We really should come up with a definitive list of things that count as fast food.

Speaking of food…  About 5 minutes before it was time to leave work yesterday, Darla got a call from Rachael.  I was walking somewhere near Darla’s desk and Darla goes "Rachael said Jesus is downstairs waiting for you."  Katie pipes up "Oh, that’s probably her husband."  HA!  First I was thrilled.  Why had my Duckie come to my work?  Did he bring me flowers or something to surprise me?  Then, I started to get a little scared.   WHY is Duckie -at- my work?  Did someone die?  Was there a terrible accident?  Anyhow, I went down to the parking lot and he’d actually come to surprise me and take me out to sushi!  YAY!  Of course, I had to bring him upstairs to introduce him to the work ladies and show him my awesome cube.  He was pretty impressed with it.  Except for the dinosaur of a printer that Katie and I use to do credit memos and whatnot.  That got a chuckle.

Anyhoooo!  We went to Ginza (where some Hispanic men make the 2nd best sushi I have ever had in my life).  The sushi, as always, was delicious.  And we also had Gyosa, which is my faaaaaaaaaavorite!  God, I love Gyosa sauce.  The people in the sushi bar left a lot to be desired, though.  It’s a pretty small room and a lot of tables are kind of jammed in there.  Usually, people are respectful and keep their conversations down, but not yesterday.  There was Loudy McLoudpants who clearly spends too much time in the bars.  You could hear him over EVERYONE.  He had no idea how order sushi worked, he was argumentative over how the sushi would be paid for (no, I’m not paying to watch other people eat sushi and only taking a piece here and there.  No, I’m not eating that.  No, I’m not paying for a whole roll when I might not like it.).  Then he ordered sake, which he also had no clue about.  Okay, sake can be confusing because there’s etiquette with the warm and the not warm and flavors and whatnot, so fine.  I don’t know much about sake except that it tastes like wine, burns like Vodka and is delicious…so I let someone who knows what they’re doing choose or I get the opinion of someone who works there.  I don’t go on and on about how it’s really potent and made from rice and why do they only have one flavor of the warm sake so loud that no one else can enjoy their dinners.  So, his sake gets there and he’s all like "WOW!  IT SMELLS LIKE RICE!"  WTF?  No, it really doesn’t.  Idiot.  It was tempting to ask him if it smelled like cooked rice or dry rice.  I just ate another piece of Godzilla roll instead.  YUUUUM!  So, this guy’s idiot son (I think) then gets his order.  He’s got a plate of like … 6 sushi rolls.  But, he says, I asked for one of each of these.  Just one piece of each roll.  Seriously?  The menu couldn’t BE much clearer.  The shit you ordered comes in a roll sliced into 6-8 pieces.  That’s why the price right next to it says $4.50 or $7.75 (it was sushi happy hour!  Wooo!).  The single pieces are riiight above that part and say that they are one (or sometimes, two) pieces.  That’s why the price says $1.90 and not $6!  Can you not read?  What in the hell makes you think that you can have an entire roll made just so that you can get 1 piece from it?

So, trying our best to ignore Loudy McLoudpants when Idiot McDumbasshit comes in with his girlfriend.  They  get seated a couple tables over.  The girl seems pretty conscious of the small space and keeps her voice down.  The guy, on the other hand, is giving the waitress the 3rd degree over how to figure out the special prices.  The prices are on the menu, dip shit.  The menu right in front of you that says "Happy Hour Specials."  He just doesn’t get it.  "So, is it half off?  It is just a percentage

off?  How do I know what the percentage off is?"  Oh. My. Jesus.  Finally, the waitress just brings him the regular menu so he can work the math out himself.  Then there has to be a discussion about how they’re going to order.  "We’ll just get two rolls.  Well, how many rolls?" BLAH BLAH BLAH.  I don’t CAAAAARE how many fucking rolls you get.  Just shut the fuck up and let other people enjoy their meal.  Not that they can, thanks to Loudy McLoudpants.  (Who, by the way, is now loudly discussing how Japanese businessmen work 14 to 16 hour days and then go to bars and get drunk on sake.  Because, you know, he’s a fucking expert on Japan now that he’s had a California roll and some sake.)

Okay, I know, first world problems right?  Well, guess, what?  I fucking hate that phrase.  Guess what else?  When you have a problem with my whining, that’s YOUR first world problem.  Hypocrite. 

Okay, now that all the venom managed to leak out and land in this entry, I guess I can take a shower and get ready to meet the ladies on the other side of town.

 Quick note: I don’t eat fish and I don’t eat undercooked or raw meat even when I’m not pregnant.  Don’t jump up my ass about the sushi.  I had shrimp and crab in mine and both items were fully cooked.  Thank you, judge elsewhere, goodnight.