Pickled pink
Am I the luckiest girl in the world or what? A coworker brought me an ENTIRE JAR of pickles today. I ate two already and I think I'm going in for a third!

Later this afternoon I have an ultrasound and I'm also getting a shot (hopefully not in the ass). So either this evening or tomorrow I'm going to post a state of the pregnancy address, depending on how lazy I am this evening.

The only other thing I have to say at the moment is that I am still shocked and awed over last night's ouster of the pouty Constantine. Don't get me wrong, I'm still rooting for my local boy Scott, whom I know doesn't have a snowball's chance in hell, but I was utterly floored that Scott was not in the bottom three last night, because I thought for sure he was gone. Him or that Federov punk. But not Constantine. I thought the Greek wonder rocker was a contender to win it. Now I'm pretty sure that Carrie Underwear is going to win and that does not please me whatsoever. Because she sings BOTH kinds of music, country AND western! Once Scott goes, which, if we're all being honest, should be next week, I'm throwing my support behind Vonzell. And then none at all.

The long and short of it: vacation
While I enjoy the last few hours of my vacation (back to work tomorrow), I thought I'd recap last week's festivities for all those interested.

First, I'd be remiss not to mention the Maroon 5 concert. Which would have been good, I think, had it not been completely ruined by the two drunk guys in front of us. We had good seats on the floor, maybe 20 or so rows back, right in the center. The drunk guys were in their 20's, and at first, it appeared that only one of them had been imbibing too much. This guy was a cross between Survivor contestant Gregg and Survivor/TAR contestant Boston Rob, but uglier:



Anyhoo, this dude took it upon himself to start grinding on some late 30-something women at the end of his row. And when I say grinding, I mean full-on gropage. It was disgusting. And, as this was occurring right in front of me, I had no choice but to stare at it in disbelief.

So while Drunk Dude #1 is getting his groove on (and I'm still not sure whether the women were into him or not -- they were pretty trashed too), Dude #2 keeps trying to signal his buddy. I'm thinking that maybe he realizes that his friend is too wasted, and needs to get a hold of himself. But then, all of a sudden, Dude #2's standing there, and then the next second, he collapses to the ground.

"And I thought he was the sober one," I remarked to my friend, Amy, who was the other witness to this horror.

So I guess it was an interesting show, if anything. The worst part was after the show when we saw Drunk Dude #1 and #2 get into a car, with Drunk Dude #1 behind the wheel. We got their license plate, but didn't call the police. I wonder if we should have.

Tuesday morning began bright and early. Especially for me -- I didn't sleep a wink. We had to be ready to be out the door at 5 a.m. My contact lenses burned when I tried to put them in, so I opted for my glasses. Wearing my glasses in public has always made me feel self-conscious, and added to my sleep-deprived state, along with my feeling of apprehension toward flying, I was building toward a mini-meltdown.

Meltdown level was achieved when, in the security line, I was stopped for having an expired driver's license. Oops. It's been expired since January. What this entailed was me going back to the ticket counter and getting "EXPIRED LICENSE" written all over my boarding passes, and then being submitted to what my husband jokingly referred to as a "buttcrack search" when I went through the security line again. I got wanded, and then a female security guard gave me a thorough pat-down, thorough enough for her to feel that I had a baby inside of me and congratulate me. It really wasn't a big deal, now that I look back on it, but at 6 a.m., while I was wearing my glasses and tired and scared about the upcoming trip, it was too much. I fought back tears and also fought back the urge to tell my husband that the trip was off.

(Side note: I went today to renew my license. Despite the fact that I did my hair and makeup immediately before making the five-minute trip to the DMV, they still ended up making me look like a career criminal in my photo. And I was followed by a cop for most of my trip from home to the DMV, which would have been just my luck to get pulled over.)

However, after that, it was smooth sailing. All of our flights were on time, our layover in Phoenix was short, and we landed in Vegas at about noon Vegas time. Plenty of time to gamble. We checked in to our hotel room at the Tropicana and headed into the casino, where I immediately lost the majority of my gambling allowance at the quarter slots. I made some of it back at the blackjack table, but then ultimately lost everything that I had set aside to gamble with. After the dismal gambling afternoon, we headed to our hotel room to shower, and ended up napping for about three hours. The lack of sleep had finally caught up to me. But the nap allowed us to get a second wind and head back out for more gambling. We went to the Luxor for a short period of time, and then ended up at the MGM Grand, where my husband actually won back what he had lost and more by playing single-deck blackjack. After that, we were spent, and called it a night.

Wednesday we ate breakfast and then headed back to the airport to catch our flight to Burbank. We landed in California at lunchtime, rented our car for the week, and began our adventure to find our hotel. The route took us through some of the sightseeing spots, such as Warner Brothers studio, Hollywood Blvd., and finally the Sunset Strip, which was where our hotel was located. We walked around the surrounding area by our hotel, and finally settled into a small pizza shop across from the famous Viper Room bar (R.I.P. River Phoenix). After that, we decided that we should just drive to Anaheim to find the ballpark, and if we got there early, we'd just drive around that area and check it out. It was about 4 at that point; the game started at 7.

Thus began our introduction to the infamous L.A. traffic. Holy crap! Our Mapquest route said that the trip was about 37 miles from our hotel and that it would take about 48 minutes. Yeah. We got there a little bit after 6. Traffic was at a standstill almost the whole way there. I'm sure a lot of that had to do with rush hour, but if I could have had a drink when I got to the ballpark, I would have had to have several to calm my frayed nerves.

Our seats that night were in the very last row of the stadium, behind home plate. Good views, but far away. I was impressed with the ballpark, and also by the Angels fans. It felt like being back in Jacobs Field in the mid-90's when the Indians were good. Not surprisingly, the Indians lost Wednesday's game, 1-0.

Thursday we had nice weather (it was in the 60's and a little breezy for the entire trip) so we decided to take a drive out to the beach. We followed our map and got on Pacific Coast Highway (PCH to the locals) and decided to go to Venice Beach. Interesting place. All kinds of people were there. I can imagine that when the weather is really nice, this place is quite crowded. The beach itself was pretty much desolate. I wanted to at least stick my feet in the ocean, so we went to the shore. The water was freezing cold so my stroll in the water was short-lived. I found a sea shell that I was going to take home as a souvenir, until I realized that the owner of the shell was still living inside of it. I put him back in the water instead. We had lunch in a little cafe on the boardwalk there and enjoyed the freakshow quality of some of the locals.

We headed back, and decided to get an early start to Anaheim for the second of our games. This time we got to the stadium around 5, in time to watch the Indians batting practice. We had awesome seats, front row along the first base line, a few feet from the foul pole. Before the game, we had tons of guys around us with their gloves, hoping to catch a foul ball. No one was disappointed. Tons of balls came into our section. My husband even caught one, but gave it to a kid who was standing near us.

Oh yeah -- the Indians lost this game too. We were winning until the 8th and 9th innings. But in typical fashion, we found a way to blow it.

Friday... it was chilly, cloudy, and rainy. So much for our plans to spend time by the pool. (We went up to check it out anyway -- it was on the roof of our hotel -- but HBO was filming an episode of the show "Entourage" and there were people everywhere, so we made a hasty exit.) Instead, we went up to Hollywood Blvd. and walked around. We went to the famous Chinese theater, and the Hollywood Wax Museum, and I was attacked in front of the theater by an in-character Chucky doll (played by a midget). Not cool. Darth Vader was pretty sweet, though.

Friday evening we had the Josh Rouse concert, so we went out to eat and then got to the club. It was a good show, and I felt really at ease there. I was worried that I would be underdressed compared to the L.A. chicks, but I think we blended in really well.

And then Saturday, we came home, exhausted, and arrived into Cleveland to the sight of a plane being de-iced. A freaking snowstorm. "Welcome back to reality," the pilot said over the P.A. system. Yeah. Ha. Except, by that time, I was ready to be home and sleep in my own bed and see my kitties.

What I'm not looking forward to, now, is going back to work. Hopefully the next two 1/2 months will go by in a blur. And then my vacation-but-not-really-a-vacation starts... my summer break while I'm home with a newborn son. Talk about a reality check.

Back to reality
I'm back, did ya miss me?
The trip was great. The weather was in the high 60's, low 70's, a little breezy, but after returning home to find snow, it was quite nice.

I have uploaded some pics here if you'd like to see them.

Update: photo has been removed because it was screwing up my page. You can still click the links to view my photo album.

A few more things before I go...

• I dislike Jack Black. A lot. But I watched the movie "Envy" over the weekend and thought it was pretty good. Not because of Jack Black, though. Walken. Christopher Walken. He was awesome in this movie, and for that reason, I recommend it.
• It made my day today to have the opportunity to bust Bad Lady. She wasn't here on Friday (for reasons that are still unknown), and when the time sheet went around this morning, lo and behold, she didn't mark that she was out. Mistake? Highly doubtful. If this was the first time it happened, I would just mention it to her that she forgot. However, this is a regular occurrance. She frequently will take half days and not mark them. (I usually mark them for her, though, because I'm sneaky and passive-aggressive like that). Today, however, since it was a full day, I just went in to my boss and pointed it out to him and let him deal with it. Whee!
• I'm going to Maroon 5 tonight, forgot to mention that. I'd say something about Adam Levine here but there's a minor chance that my husband may read this and I'd get in trouble for sure. But would I kick him out of bed for eating crackers? Mmmno.
• NBA playoffs start this weekend. Go Cavs! Except, oh wait. They probably won't be in 'em. Hey, looks like that Usher hand signal wasn't so lucky after all.

California, here I come
This is my last day of work before I leave for vacation. Tomorrow at 7:45 a.m., we fly into the great city of Las Vegas, Nevada, for one fun-filled day of gambling, losing all our money, and then laying by the pool if it's warm enough. Wednesday, we fly into Burbank, California and will remain in the southern Cali region until Saturday. During that time we'll take in a few Indians games (they are playing the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim), do some touristy stuff, and celebrate our two-year wedding anniversary.

I am a little apprehensive (ok, who am I kidding -- I'm a LOT apprehensive) about flying, especially since my doctor seemed not too jazzed about it. I'm at 27 weeks and they strongly discourage flying after 28 weeks. So I'm right on the cusp. I don't think anything will happen, but I'm never going to forgive myself if it does.

But, once the flight is out of the way, I'm sure I will enjoy myself.

I'll be back for your blogging pleasure sometime soon. With pictures, to boot.

See, now I probably would have just eaten it
First there was Scott Savol. Now, Cleveland can be proud of its latest pseudo celebrity, Nang Duong. If you haven't heard, Nang was eating a bag of Cheetos and seems to have found Jesus inside. But just his legs -- which means, folks, that THE REST OF HIS CHEETO BODY IS STILL OUT THERE. Oh, the horror!

So he did what any rational human being would do... he put it up on EBay.

I think a search party must be dispatched immediately to find the rest of the Cheeto Jesus. I'll go check my vending machine right now.

The worst part of this story? He'll probably make about 50 bucks on the cheeto legs from some sucker. That's enough to buy, like, a whole bunch more bags of Cheetos.

UPDATE: The eBay listing can be found HERE. Hurry! Only one day left to bid!

Thursday, 9:18 a.m.
Bad Lady has already received THREE personal calls this morning.
Not that this is out of the ordinary, but the RAGE is building inside of me.
Good thing I leave for vacation in a few days. Are you going to miss me???

I hereby lay claim to all names within...

Kat's Aliases

Your movie star name: Chips Brooks

Your fashion designer name is Kathleen Belfast

Your socialite name is Christ Vegas

Your fly girl / guy name is K Jam

Your detective name is Giraffe Beaumont

Your barfly name is Cookies Wine

Your soap opera name is Andrea Carroll

Your rock star name is Skittles Gazelle

Your star wars name is Katdom Jamkei

Your punk rock band name is The Tired Spork

She's gone ... but they're back
My favorite part of American Idol last night? Why, it was the appearance of Hall and Oates in the audience, of course. Jamming TO THEIR OWN SONG. It takes balls to do that. And while Hall is still looking good, I have to say that time has not been kind to Oates.

My predictions for the bottom three are Nadia, Anthony and either Bo or Scott. Probably Scott. Although at my household, we did our part to vote for the local boy, that is for sure.

Now the scuttlebutt is that Anwar is gay, and that this will negatively affect his votes. What. Ever. I think that Anwar needs to be the lead singer of a modern era Kool and the Gang. Wouldn't that rock? Well, I think it would.

Quick, someone call Webster
I'm not positive, but I think I have coined a new word. Probably not, because it's not that original, but it makes me chuckle.

The word is gigundies. As in, gigantic undies. Also known in some circles as granny panties. They are the most hideous of the underclothes, large swathes of unsexy material in sizes the good Lord didn't intend. The kind you buy at Target in 8-packs for $6 that come rolled up in a plastic bag like socks sometimes do.

Not that I would know, or anything. *cough*

Picture time!
I have mastered the digital camera. Well, not quite mastered it, but at least I know how to use it, and that's a start.

Here's a decent shot of my elusive cat, Molly.


The progress in the baby's room is as such:


Dom in his favorite spot in the house: inside the bathroom on the rug.


And finally, a shot of me that my husband took today while I was waiting to get on the computer.

Arachnophobia
I've gotten pretty good at the "peeing in the middle of the night" routine. I can get out of bed, walk to the bathroom, close the door, pee, wipe, wash hands, flush... without turning the lights on and without, for the most part, opening my eyes. I occasionally crack one eyelid to check and see where the toilet paper is, but other than that, I barely need to break out of r.e.m. mode.

However, last night, I was mid-pee, when I remembered that there had been a spider in the bathroom. My husband was all "don't kill it -- spiders eat other bugs." So I left it alone, even though it really creeped me out to be sharing a private moment with an eight-legged freak. As long as I could see it on the wall, I knew it wasn't, for instance, about to drop onto my head.

Not true in the middle of the night in the dark.

I mean, it could be anywhere. It could be on the toilet seat. On the toilet handle. On the light switch. It could be inches away from my face.

So I did what any rational human being would do. I didn't flush, and I didn't -- gasp -- wash my hands, and very cautiously opened the door to get out and go back to bed.

Just 'cuz, that's why
My husband asks me last night, "What's the difference between body cream and body lotion?"
So I try my best to explain that body cream (and we're talking about Bath and Body Works products, here) is thicker, and in most cases, stronger smelling, and that the lotion is smoother and not as strong scented.

Then came the million dollar question, to which I had no answer: "Why do you need both?"

State of the pregnancy: month five
Things are rolling right along in Doodle Land. He's a kicking, punching little nubbin of a child, all of 1 1/2 pounds big at the moment. He has all of his fingers and toes, which he wiggles and waves. And, inexplicably, from the ultrasound pictures that I have of his little face, both my mother-in-law and her mother (my grandmother-in-law?) said he looks like me. I'm not sure whether to take that as a compliment or not at this point, as he looks like a small, skeletal monster to me.

We have decided on a first name, but due to a quirk or perhaps to superstition, I refuse to refer to him by that name, probably until he's born. I call him instead by many other names. "Little guy" is one; Doodle is another (although that doesn't leave the confines of this blog). His working name is Doodle Schmedlap I. Middle name is pending. That may actually be my next poll.

As far as how I'm doing -- does anyone still care? -- well, I'm doing allright. My sugar is regulated through diet at the moment, and although my doctor keeps threatening to put me on insulin, I've eluded that dreaded day so far. (Today I ate a marshmallow egg. It's Easter! I think Jesus would have wanted me to.)

I thought that food cravings were over in the first trimester, but here it is, almost the sixth month of my pregnancy, and I'm craving all kinds of stuff. Most of it is food that I'm not allowed to eat due to the diabetes, such as ice cream, Oreo cookies, and other junk food. But the number one item I'm craving lately is milk. I could drink gallons of it! I've gotten up in the middle of the night just to drink a glass of it. I seriously go through about a gallon and a half a week, just by myself. I guess I'm drinking it to ready myself for producing it? Oh, and speaking of that, the milk factory hasn't really kicked into gear yet, but my husband has already started to referring to my "teat" -- which makes me feel about as sexy as a dead mackerel.

I have given up on "What To Expect When You're Expecting." That book, while informative, also scares the crap out of me. I read the "five months" chapter this weekend, and on Saturday night, I was terrified to sleep. I normally sleep on my back and then eventually roll over to my right side. Well, apparently the LEFT side is the proper side for sleeping on. All other sleeping positions either squish vital organs (his or mine, I'm not sure) or slow his heart rate down considerably. So then I'm up worrying about that all night. Thanks.

Also, the whole childbirth thing. I want to know the basics. What I don't want to know is everything else that could possibly happen and/or go wrong. I don't need to worry about that in addition to the myriad of other things I have on my plate at the moment!

Overall, I'm doing well though. I still, at five plus months of pregnancy, weigh less than I did pre-pregnancy, so that's a good thing. And all indications are that Doodle Schmedlap I is developing according to schedule, so that's an even better thing.

We have a weiner
OK, now I know that I am judging a book by its cover here, BUT:

My question of the day is this. What ideas were rejected before Fox said yes to the new series "Life on a Stick," which is seemingly about people who work in a hot dog store? The show is set to premiere tonight. I can safely say that I won't be watching.

EDITED TO ADD (In caps lock, leaned over mode -- tm GT): SURVIVOR IS ON TONIGHT. NOT TOMORROW. ADJUST YOUR TV VIEWING SCHEDULES ACCORDINGLY.

Oopsie
Well, he's done it again. This goes up there with getting stuck in the elevator twice, hitting one of our VPs with a gigantic divot at the company golf outing, shooting himself in the eye with a rubber band, and showing off his tai-chi moves in front of my boss' office when my boss was with a client.

Today, IBL ate New Girl #1's lunch. Both were in brown bags, so he must have grabbed the wrong one. But, IBL has the same lunch every day. His wife packs it for him. So you'd think he would have noticed that his lunch was a little different. He did, but thought that his wife had made the mistake. It didn't occur to him that maybe the mistake was on his end.

It all ended up ok, because me, NG1, and another co-worker went to Chipotle and got burrito bols. Of course, mine was bereft of rice, but it was still yummy.

Dear CVS Pharmacy,
It would be really helpful if, the next time I came in, you could be a little quicker with getting my prescription ready. Because, in the 25 minutes it took you to put a bottle of vitamins in a bag, I...

• Scoped the sugar-free candy aisle. Sugar-free Creme Saver anyone? They are kind of chocolatey. *horks*
• Snagged a lipstick that I definitely didn't need. I have enough Clinique free sample shit to last a small lifetime.
• In the process of scoping out the lipstick, saw a ginormous bin of "clearance" beauty items. After fishing through the bin, I came up with THREE shades of nail polish that weren't too hideous. Because the 5234212 bottles of nail polish I have at home just weren't enough.
• Speaking of nail polish, they had O.P.I. there! Score! I picked up a bottle of that, as well.
• Tortured myself by circling back to the candy area, and checked out all the Easter candy that I won't be eating this year. Do you think they make sugar free Peeps?
• Got the only useful item of the whole shopping trip: a bottle of Pepto-Bismol. We ran out several months ago and it's always good to have around the house.

I know that every extra minute I spend in your store results in more profits for you, but I think we can work together for a better solution. Let me know your thoughts.

Sincerely,

K

Fun with the digital camera
OK, so I still haven't taken the time to learn how to work the digital camera, but fortunately, my husband has. Here are a couple of shots I thought I'd share with you:

First, the infamous Domino:


And look! Crocuses! Crocii! In our backyard! This past weekend!

M.I.A.
Missing: one Sharpie.
Looks kind of like this:



Last seen Friday, approximately 4 p.m. standard time, on my desk.

Quite honestly, I have no hope of finding it. My desk looks like fifteen bombs have gone off.

Oh mama
This weekend, my mom and I had little bonding excursion. Destination? Maternity clothes-o-rama. I'm at that stage in my pregnancy where I'm not quite into the full maternity gear, but I do need a few key pieces to work in to my wardrobe.

The store we went to had three mini-stores all wrapped into one fun package. There was the upscale clothing store, the mid-range clothing, and the low-end stuff. We, and most everyone else, which included every pregnant woman in northeast Ohio and her mother, were in the mid-range section. However, since all 89 of us were hovering over two racks of clothes, I decided to venture into the other areas of the store to see what they had to offer. Here are my findings:

Upscale clothing section
Features: $150 jeans (and ugly ones at that) and Paris Hiltonesque frilly frou frou short short skirts. Tiny tops for tiny pregnant people.

Low-end clothing section
Features: Tops that can only be described as "frocks" in a variety of colors found under your local big top and usually modeled by someone named BoBo or Chuckles.

So I ended up back in the mid-range area, and made out pretty well with two pairs of not-too-hideous slacks, a jacket, two blouses and a t-shirt.

While I was in the dressing room, I noticed they had a velcro strap-on stomach that you could use to project what you will look like with a full pregnant belly. I declined to use it on the grounds that it was skeevy.

Then, just on a whim, I decided to look at the maternity bras. Too scary. I couldn't deal with it.

All in all, a harrowing experience, to be sure. I'm not sure who was more exhausted by the end of it -- my mom or me.

At least it's over. I don't have to go back. Until the era of Doodle the Second, that is...