Alright people. I’m all the way to 9964 page views. Let’s see if we can get it to the 10,000 mark by Friday so we can all have something to celebrate about this weekend.
I’ve noticed something odd–I’m read when I don’t write, and when I write I’m not read. What’s up with that? I’ve made many more fishy observations this week:
- The only man that makes me crazy yet keeps me sane…My husband. He’s been in Lake Tahoe this week on a business "convention"–and by convention I mean they golf and ride four-wheelers through the mountains and fish and gamble and drink and stay at swanky hotels…I’m wondering when my all-inclusive expenses paid mandatory "mommy convention" is going to take place. Can we go to Miami? Or New York City?…although I’m pretty sure in those cities I won’t get too far with my ziploc baggie full of nickels, dimes and quarters.
- The sun has been shining through the pouring rain…all day. It’s so eerie–but it does produce one helluva gorgeous rainbow. Finally some rain! After 6 months of barely any…the dogs don’t know what to make of it. I hope and pray that they aren’t too afraid to go to the bathroom outside in the wet grass.
- Funny how easily I got pregnant when I wasn’t even trying…the first two kids were surprises–I was even on the pill when Mia was put together–but now that we’re officially "trying", so much planning is required! Getting off the pill, taking vitamins, cutting back on alcohol and caffeine…not to mention the scheduling conflicts that arise (ha! arise!) when the ideal time is finally figured out. I thought making a baby would take a little less thought and a lot more action. It’s worked that way before.
- My best friends don’t know me…Okay, I have this myspace, you see–I know, I know, I know! I did it to stay in touch with my friends! (Suuurrrre.) Anyway, I put this little quiz on it–"How well do you know me?" or some crap like that–and I’ll just say this. My very own sister couldn’t even remember that I played a kick-ass french horn in the 8th grade. Can you believe it? You know how Louie Armstrong was on the trumpet? That’s not how I played. You know how Rosanne Barr was when she sang the National Anthem? That’s a little more like it.
And for the record, you so-called friends, my fondest wish is to name a kid "Marianne", and I’m still waiting for that pretty pink dress.