Life is a Banquet

Right Side of Bed--With Pictures

I woke up on the wrong side of bed. In fact, I woke up so far on the wrong side of bed, I was pretty certain the right side no longer existed. Just yesterday, my world was peaches and cream, and all was right. I, however, did two bad things 1) I stayed up very late torturing myself with moveable type, getting ever more confused and 2) I ate a rice crispy treat—made with organic brown rice crisps and brown rice syrup marshmallows. For most of you, this would be a very healthy decision, but my pancreas immediately rebelled, and reminded me that diabetics do not have leeway to eat 3 or 4 rice crispy treats, even if they are organic, even if they do not actually contain refined sugar. So, I woke up with a nice blood sugar hangover, extremely depressed about my meager web skills (not to mention my inability to find a decent web designer to subcontract with—impossible to find good help these days). But, I am wavybrains, the optimist, I laugh in the face of depression—or at the very least sneer. I was not going to a bad day! No! But I needed to find that right side of the bed . . . so I embarked on Wavybrains’ patented Save-Your-Morning-Plan. To follow: 

Home Sweet Work

No, I haven’t dropped off the face of the earth in a fit of rewriting angst. I’m still here. In fact, Friday,  I’m there also—I’m Michele tommorrow. Sadly, my novel is no closer to going out to prospective publishers, and my works in progress are also sporting stagnant word counts. This is okay, though, because I’m slowly going crazy—but being paid for it. My freelance work is starting to kick up a notch, and I’m knee-deep in the badlands of moveable type, wondering what I’ve gotten myself into. Typepad = fine. This = darn near impossible. But, life is so good at the moment, I really can’t complain. I’m absorbed by this work, loosing track of time, and enjoying little successes and I’ve sold three articles in the last week to boot.  

So I suppose, I can call myself a “writer” now and not flinch. Well, not flinch much. I’m still expecting lightening to strike every time I utter such heresy. The biggest adjustment in the last three weeks has been adjusting to the loneliness—I wasn’t aware how much I relied on the social interaction of the office. I’m such a people person, and I like to talk (just a little bit—stop laughing now). And while, Freak and my mother will undoubtedly attest to the fact that I could talk to a blank wall, I really do like having an audience conversations.  

But, I’m making more of an effort to get out, and as I settle in to a rhythm, I can honestly say that I love this. I love being home for all three meals, I love being semi-caught up on laundry. I love setting my own schedule---even with all the procrastination that entails. It’s hard right now with Freak still suffering through much job stress, to be so happy myself, to have something I love to do. It feels wrong somehow, but I’m slowly learning to let go and enjoy where I’m at. Even if that place DOES leave little time for blogging.

You asked, more:

Keep them coming! Really!  I LOVE questions, and I know there are more of you out there . . .

1.  Why don't you update the other part of your blog (the food diary)?

Aaagh! The other question I really was hoping not to get.  I stopped following fat flush, because it just wasn't working for me to have so many limitations on top of the wheat allergy, diabetes, etc.  I've eaten badly (read lots of fruit, lots of artifical sweetners, lots of gluten-free, sugar-free baking) for a few months, and I've gone from 160 to 180 again. From 12 to 14 AGAIN.  I can gain 20 pounds in my sleep.  I NEED to keep track of what I eat, as that's a big part of success for me, but I felt like my food diary was becoming a big rant of "woe is me."  I need to get back to it as I work out what balance looks like for me.  Maybe this will shove me back to updating, perhaps without the self-bashing. 

2.  If you could do anything over again other than your divorce, what would it be & why

I would choose a different college.  I had the opportunity to go elsewhere, and I turned down several good options.  I would like to go back and see how things would go differently, who I would be today, and why. 

3.  If you could become anything other than a writer, what would it be & why?

Filthy Rich?  Just kidding.  Well not really, but assuming that, you know, Trust Fund Baby, isn't really an option, I have two answers.  The alternate universe answer:  An athelete---a figure skater or dancer or gymanst or even just a fitness coach, like a pilates instructor or yoga goddess.  Laugh all you want, the universe totally screwed me when it gave me this body and this lack of coordination.  The  in-this-lifetime-answer:  a teacher.   This is IT for me---the one thing other than a writer I've always thought about, felt constrained by finances, politics, and social reality from pursuing, but I would love to teach.   

You asked:

Here's the questions I have so far, but PLEASE, more questions--I LOVE this: 

Kristen Asks:

1. Where did you go to college (undergrad) ?

I started school at

Westminster

in

Fulton

,

Missouri

and transferred to the University of Missouri-St. Louis. 

2. If had to live anyplace in the world OTHER THAN where you live now, where would it be ?

I would live in the Utah Dessert, near Capitol Reef national park. Or if money was no object, I would live near

Vancouver

,

Canada

. So many gorgeous places to choose from. 

3. What was the last book you read ?

This afternoon, I read The Heart is Deceitful Above All Things by J. T. Leroy. Amazingly powerful. I started out to browse, and ended up engrossed, on the floor of Waldenbooks for about 2 hours. 

Tanya asks

1. What one thing in your life do you wish you'd done differently?

Just one thing? I wish I’d handled the end of my first marriage differently. Had I known then, what I know now, I would have done things differently.  

2. What is your saddest memory?

This is another tough one. When Freak and I had to put down his year and a half year old cat due a congential defect that was killing her, it was the hardest and saddest thing I have ever witnessed. 

3. How many siblings do you have (and how old are they and where do they live)?

I have two younger brothers. Studmonkey is 24—soon to be 25, and lives with my parents just outside of

St.   Louis

while he finishes up an IT degree. Mattydog is 21, and is working on a Social Work degree at my Alma Mata in

St. Louis

. 

Carrie asks: 

1. What is your favorite beauty product?

Lip gloss. Preferably Bert Bees or Aveda. Nothing else can make you look “done” with so little effort. 

2. What is in your purse right this very moment.

Oh! I love this question. Right now:
My dayplanner; my wallet which has 50 zillion cards, a bunch of coffee stamp cards, 5 dollars in singles and a ton of receipts; 3 lucky stones from the Ren Fair a year ago today when Freak and I got engaged, 2 tampons, my diabetes medication, a painfully stale cinnamon candy for low blood sugar, a wooden perfume holder that Freak got me, an unmailed postcard to my parents, a doodle on the back of an ad, floss, a pair of chopsticks, my keys which have a dog clicker and a tape measure attached.

Usually in my purse but absent due to a change from “fun” to “interview” purse on Friday—my checkbook, a glasses case, a journal, and lip gloss, and about 10 pens. 

3. Most embarrassing moment?

Gosh, I’m so good at humiliating myself, it’s hard to pick just one. Lifetime winner though: In sixth grade, my-so-called “best friend” stole my private diary and read it out loud on break to the whole class, and ripped out pages and handed them out. It contained such wonderful information as embarrassing crushes, my first period, stupid whiney stuff, and other lovely stuff.   

Sarah asks:

1. where do you answer the questions: on your blog or in a private e-mail?

On my blog. I usually answer comments via email though. 

2. what is the question you are hoping no one will ask? It was asked—the one thing I would change. But, really, I like getting questions even hard questions. 

3. what do *you* think happens to us when life ends?

This is probably the hardest question yet. I think we die, and our energy is dispersed in the universe. I think the narrator’s observation at the end of American Beauty pretty much sums up the afterlife for me—time slows down, and down, as our energy and consciousness diminish. I also like the observations on life and death contained in Immortality by Milan Kundera, and in the movies: Vanilla Sky, Contact, and Dragonfly. I think we can connect with the energy of the universe, and if we are open be influenced by it, but I think it is a far more subtle thing that many religions and writers and artists make it out to be. 

 

 

The Thursday Thirteen

             
   
          
   
 

13 Super Sweet Morsels about Wavybrains             1. I am addicted to Dutch Brothers Coffee 2. Specifically, I crave sugar-free blended decaf lattes EVERY evening around 8:00 p.m. 3. When I am not obsessed with treats, I am obsessed with babies these days. 4. I desperately want a baby. 5. I am nowhere near ready for a baby. 6. I am a connoisseur of naps, Sunday drives, lazy afternoons with DVD’s, and irregular mealtimes. 7. I am currently a very bad diabetic for all of the above reasons. 8. It has been about two and a half years since I have had real sugar, wheat, excessive carbohydrates, and fried foods. 9. You would think this would be enough to turn me positively Svelte 10. You would be wrong.  See # 1. 11. I am a sporadic Yogi. 12. More consistent Yoga and less Dutch Brothers would probably make #9 more likely. ; 13. Consistency is NOT one of my strong points.                     Links to other Thursday Thirteens!              1.  (leave your link in comments, I’ll add you here!)

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!



Thirteen things is all I ask for, and what do you get in return? Linkage! If you do it, leave a comment here and link me to your Thursday Thirteen. I will be sure to update my entry with links to yours, and then you can continue the chain if you like! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to

My life is too vanilla to be password protected

In recent weeks, several blogs I read have gone password protected, closed, or threatened to close. Other bloggers, dismayed at the amount of time that blogging requires have drastically cut back. In a conversation with a friend, she remarked on her decision to not share her “dirty laundry” with the world noting how many people have been burned by sharing too much.  Do I share my dirty laundry? Why am I immune to trolls and drive by assvice?  (Other than the obvious answer that I average a mere 40 visitors a day.

).

A "Day" of Love

My good blog friend Day had her baby last Thursday.  What a beautiful big boy she has! Unfortunately, she is having some rather serious complications due to a long-term chronic condition.  Please spread the blog love and leave some good wishes for Day and little Simon at her site.  I'll be thinking of them and hope others will join in sending them much positive energy. 

Meme Clean-up

I'm not normally THAT big on meme's but I've been specially tagged in two . . . .you know how I like to feel like it's ALL about me, don't you?  Mmmhmm--my ego is DEFINITELY the way to my heart . 

First up, Day's Music Meme

Total number of music files on my computer: I have no clue,  a 20 gig hard drive + some extra.  It's in the thousands I believe. 

The last cd i bought was: Lucinda Williams

Song playing right now: Nothing--probably about to be something 70's when I get up from the computer

Five songs that I listen to a lot (and that mean a lot to me):  Like Day, I'm all over the map, but I'll go with my five favorite in the last year or so

1) Paul McCartney's From a Lover to a Friend--reminds me of the early days of hanging out with Freak.  Kind of "our song"
2) Norah Jones--My Toes Just Touched the Water (I think that's the title)--this whole album really, but this song really resonates with where I've been
3) U2 --In the Name of Love.  A favorite since 93.   I can always count on Actung Baby and Zooropa to get me out of even the worst mood. 
4) Emmy Lou Harris--Stumbling from Grace.  This CD is so different from Freak's musical taste, so uniquely mine, and its purchase reminded me to always keep that part of my identity close. 
5)  Dixie Chick's Goodbye Earl.  Silly, funny, irreverent, girl power, I can always count on them to lift me up. 

I also listen to tribal drum music, punk, a lot of oldies, 80's drivel, country, folk, and even hip-hop.  I love music. 

Next up, Elisabeth, a new writer friend has tagged me in a book meme:

Total Number Books I Own: No. It's in the hundreds.  I come from a long line of book hoarders.  Not collectors.  Hoarders.  As in storage facilities just for the books.  As in every available surface.  I definitely have the gene, but I try to limit myself.  I don't keep fiction books unless they meet my standard of: might want to re-read,  really meant something  me, or might want to pass on.  I use my library compulsively and avoid book sales like a person in recovery avoids bars.  I also try to weed out periodically.  But it's still a ton.  Cookbooks, law books, books on writing, self-help books and that "meaningful" fiction are the top contenders. 

Last Book Read:  If only it were True  by Marc Levy, last night. 

Book Sitting On My Coffee Table I'm Planning To Read: No coffee table, but next up, the Island Trilogy by Gordon Korman, a Young Adult favorite. 

Five Books That Mean A Lot to Me:  JUST Five.  Impossible.  Totally impossible.  Five from my childhood?  From my 20's?  Five Fiction?  Non-fiction? Self-help? Five to take on a desert island? I'll TRY 

1.  Like Elisabeth, I've got to go with  Anne of Green Gables Series - L.M. Montgomery
2.  Auntie Mame--Patrick Dennis, as if you need an explanation for this one
3.  Ishmael, Daniel Quinn, changed my philosophy in an evening
4.  Billions and Billions, Carl Sagan.  The epitaph I wish I could write. 
5.  Greene on Greens,  Burt Green--pretty much the cookbook that started it all  for me

Aaagh, must. stop. hard.

Did you tag me and I didn't know about it?  Apologies :) Please beat me with a wet noodle and remind me. 

 

 

 

A little bit of history

Totally borrowed and adapted from the amazing Eve

15 years ago . . .
I was 10
I weighed what I weigh now
I had recently had my first period
I was reading the Anne of Green Gable Series and lots of Gordon Korman
My secret crush was Jon from New Kids on the Block
I wore sweaters with shirts underneath, corduroy pants, walmart white bra (I was way beyond training bras already) and panties, and walmart sneakers
A typical day’s food: flavored oatmeal, Juice, chocolate milk, pizza, corn, applesauce, cookie, chocolate milk (gotta love school lunches), chocolate milk, banana, hamburgers on whole wheat bread, oven french fries, canned green beans, salad, chocolate chip cookies 
I had crimped hair
I wrote stories and gave them to my mother to read and entered them in contests

10 years ago . . .
I was 16
I weighed around 200. Ish. 
I had never been kissed. 
I was reading Catherine Coulter, Sandra Brown, and Julie Garwood.  I had a steady diet of smut and romance. 
My secret crush was Dennis Rodman
I wore oversized men’s 2 or 3 XL shirts, baggy shorts, colorful pants, and sneakers, and colored walmart underwear and white bras
My hair was permed and shoulder length
A typical day’s food: flavored oatmeal, juice, chocolate milk, hamburger, tater tots, cookie (still school lunch), grazing on apples, vanilla wafers, cheese crackers or ritz crackers until dinner time, salad, tacos, rice, corn, ice cream, bag of m&m’s
I was about to graduate high school

Five years ago . . .
I was 21   
I weighed around 230.  I was actually down slightly from my highest.
I had been married for nearly a year.
I read my first Harry Potter, Carl Sagan, and many, many text books
My secret crush was Toby Maguire
I wore colorful suits of questionable fashion, long tunic tops, purple eskimo coats, and black flats, colorful lane bryant underwear and black bras
I had long hair, usually in a tight bun or french twist
A typical day’s food: pop tarts, 2 sandwiches, pringles, apple, peanut butter crackers, baby carrots, hamburger helper made with veggie crumbles, broccoli with lemon pepper, ice cream
I had been accepted to law school

Three years ago
I was 23
I weighed 150
I wore men’s jeans, men’s shirts, black boots, with the occasional skirt and conservative business suit thrown in, white bra, colorful underwear
I read Adbusters, Mad Cowboy, John Robbins
My secret crush was Reese Witherspoon
I had short, chin length, straight hair
A typical day’s food: Scrambled tofu, toast, apple, salad w/baked tofu, cherries, orange, mango, vegan potstickers, green beans with peanut sauce, soy ice cream
I was finishing my second year of law school

Two years ago
I was 24
I weighed 155
I wore short skirts, sun dresses, sandals, tank tops, black bras and underwear 
My marriage ended
I met Freak
I read bar study guides, Real Simple magazine, books on Fibromyalgia, MS, hypoglyecmia, and natural health
My secret crush was Wil Smith
I had shoulder length hair, usually down
A typical day’s food: omlet, celery, cheese, cashews, Atkins Bar, Deli Meat, Sugar Free Ice Cream, Cheese, Chicken, Broccoli, More Sugar Free Ice Cream
I graduated from law school

A year ago
I was 25
I weighed 180
I wore jeans, tank tops, colorful capris, pink bussiness suits, and black skirts, colorful and lacy underwear and bras 
I bought a house with Freak
I read Yoga for Depression, books on MS, romance novels, 1,001 Indian recipes
My secret crush was Toby Maguire
I cut my hair up to my ears
A typical day’s food: eggs and bacon, celery, apple, chicken, salad, sugar free ice cream, more sugar free ice cream, coconut curry, more sugar free ice cream
I was finishing my first year at work

Today
I am 26
I weigh 163 today
I am wearing brown corduroy pants, a light blue sweater, boy-short underwear, blue bra, and pink ballet flats
I’ve been married to Freak for two months
My hair is “chestnut mahogany” red (looked like black cherry at first, now more just dark red), short and fluffy
I’m reading Persian Feast, Fast Track Detox, Time Traveler’s wife, Chic Lit, and decorating magazines
My secret crush is secret
Yesterday’s food: Poached eggs, apple, celery, salad w/ chicken and flax, 2 gluten-free, fruit-sweetened, protein bars, turkish meat balls w/ cabbage, gluten free banana pudding sweetened with stevia
I’m finishing my second year at my work, my first year of blogging
I write stories, give them to my mother to read, and enter them in contests

Where I Am

Karen asks a good question as part of her survey--where are you in life right now? What is your biggest goal?  And this is of course, precisely what I am busy figuring out.  My goals used to be very clear cut--get into college, get an "A" in a class, graduate, get into law school, and then they became more murky, get a job, yes, but which one? 

I feel divorced from my passion, unsure of what it is, paralyzed by fear, afraid to choose "wrong" and later discover my "true" passion, I try to fit myself into the uncomfortable suits of women not me.  I have had new goals--home ownership, dogs, but still, I have spent two years feeling adrift. 

Piles of Stuff

My little will writing exercise has me thinking differently about the nature of possessions.  Stuff is inherently transitory in my world to begin with, but this puts a different sort of spin on my thinking. 

Clothes get stained, books loose their relevance, appliances break, decorating tastes change, and things get eaten.  I'm not a Vanderbilt and that is actually a very good thing.  I don't really have the mentality for heirlooms.  I USE tables, chairs, and couches, slipcovers, and books. 

I identify with what Scott over at Home Sweet Road said about how you get something new, and you are convinced that this time WILL BE DIFFERENT.  This time you'll be neat, and organized, and you'll keep it looking new . . . .

But "this time" is NEVER different.  I'm coming to accept some basic truths about myself.  One of which is that I care more about living in the moment than I do about protecting my stuff.  I give lip service to wanting a clean sofa, and pristine bed, but I still eat on both.  And I love clothes, but I also love rolling in the grass, playing with the puppy, eating drippy foods, tossing things in the dryer,  wiping my hands while cooking and a hundred other little actions that demonstrate my lack of regard for my clothing. 

I do not think about my progeny when I use a hot glue gun at the dining room table.  I do not give a wit about my heirs when I use a "good" cereal bowl to feed the dog.  What is here, is here for me. 

I resist any urges to "collect."  I have a deep aversion to knickknacks.  To me collections = clutter, and I'm a strong believer in getting rid of that which I do not find useful or beautiful or both.  Collections, no matter how nicely displayed are clutter, and should be limited. 

And when we're gone, what will it matter anyway?  This stuff--the pieces of life that we accumulate?  Will our collections, our purchases, our stuff be anything other than a burden on those we leave behind?  I actually found myself pitying my "heirs," reluctant to saddle them with my detritus, because I know that that which is important to me, probably isn't important to anyone else. 

I've tried renouncing materialism,  attempting to live a monastic life, but that simply isn't me.  I'm bargains and color, and shoes, and pots and pans, and picture frames.  I'm skirts and dresses and beauty products.  And I'm not sure I want to do any of it different--other than continue to be mindful of what I bring in, what is needed, what is needed, and what is destined to become clutter. 

In a way, asking whether something is something which I would leave to others is another way of saying, should I do this just to please myself or with a mind to others?  And the answer so often, is that I should do something just to please myself.  No one else cares what kind of book light I have.  My sheets and bedding are unlikely to be coveted by others. 

But that which I *would* like to leave behind, IS worth preserving, is worth working on--my scrapbooks, my writings, my paintings.  Certain pieces of furniture that I want to symbolize "Family" are worth the investment. That which would mean so much to me, that I would use it constantly, that it would come to be a treasured possession (oh say, a Kitchen Aid mixer) IS worth getting, worth the investment. 

In the end, my life is for me to live, and if my "stuff" lacks meaning for me, it is unlikely to HAVE meaning for anyone else.

I'm Still Kicking

. . . . So I seem to have worried a few.  Which is understandable.  I write my will and then I drop off the blogosphere.  Fear not dear internet!

I have several posts, all written in long hand, which will soon make their way to the computer.   I've been trying to bring more balance to my life (not that I've been that successful), by limiting my hours at the actual computer, freeing more time up for writing and reading and house cleaning and other fun stuff.   

I also post more regularly on my other blog .

And I just rolled out a re-design over there, and any comments on the new design are much appreciated.

So don't worry--no one is going to get to claim their inheritances quite yet. 

Will of Wavybrains

Perhaps it is the Terri Schavio case.  Perhaps it is change in medications that's playing havoc with me right now. Perhaps it is the simple notion of getting older.  Or perhaps, and most likely, it is Connie Mae Fowler, and her uncanny ability to make the unpalatable parts of life slide down like sweet tea, coaxing away of the ugliness of something bitter like death, until dwelling on the morbid becomes as natural as dinner.  Each of  Fowler's books leaves me introspective, questioning my life, and seeking the same meaning in my life that resonates in every sentence of her books.  And so, after finishing The Problem with Murmur Lee, I've decided to follow Murmur Lee's example and write my will.  Even though I intend to be around a good while longer (and so did Murmur Lee), and what I write now will be irrelevant at the time, I'm still glad I drafted a will.  A first for me.

(And it was such an eye-opening exercise, that I hope to post more on it soon. The mere thought of what if? is very terrifying and freeing at the same time)

I am . . .

Aaack, I’m it.  Must tidy up the place, stuff things into the closets, artfully place fuzzy throws over the bare spots in my meager CSS abilities.  Ah, fug it.  I’ll just write the post I had planned anyway. 

I am a horrible perfectionist.  Indeed, my perfectionism often keeps me rooted to one spot, unable to take action for fear of taking the WRONG action. But, I’ve been working lately (and yes, I know, it does seem that I am holding a self-esteem workshop for Get A. Life, party of one, but I am truly convinced that being self-aware is not a bad thing, nor is being one’s own therapist) on truly enjoying who I AM, and not dwelling on who I wish I could be. 

In short, I am working on appreciating all the little things that make up who I am. (And I was inspired by a similar post on two different blogs, neither of which I seem to have remembered to bookmark. Horrible copy-cat that I am, and I can’t properly give credit for this cool meme).

So without further adieu, I am . . .

A Quilted Cure

A Beautiful Day, who as if she doesn't have enough going on, seeing as she is creating new life and all at this very minute, has a fabulous project going on to raise awareness and money for PNH.  If you quilt or sew, please consider volunteering to help this amazing artist complete this project! 

***Update!! Day has found sewers for over 60!!! Blocks.  But she still needs volunteers for the last 20! She's even penciling on lines for the hand sewers, and sending a return envelope with postage paid! How much easier can it get to help a GREAT cause.  Please consider volunteering!   

My Not-so-Perfect Life

Update: Monday, Feb. 8:  Weird coincidence!  Faulkner Fox is this month's author for Blogging for Books over at The Zero Boss.  So Be sure to enter, and give her some quality blogging to read! Deadline is Next Monday!

When Faulkner Fox was my age, she had an ongoing fantasy of a man, a child, and a house by the sea.  She got three of the four (no ocean), and wondered why she was unhappy.  Thank god, she didn't keep these feelings to herself.  Instead she wrote Dispatches From My Not-So-Perfect-Life, which the universe sent to me as I've worked through a difficult week, a difficult place emotionally.  My anger cache is still in the process of emptying, and letting it out, acknowledging where I am right now seems to be the best thing for me right now.  The most important thing in the last week has been realizing that I am not alone.  Thank you Sarah, Day, Natalie, Tanya, and Michele for reminding me that I'm not alone --that other struggle with these feelings too--and for validating where I am right now.

Which is why it is simply serendipitous that the universe dumped Dispatches into my lap, with Fox's unflinching take on bitterness, anger, and reaching your dream.  I wanted to shout with glee as I read her book in big hungry gulps Wednesday.  Yes, yes, yes! She with her "dark thing" mentality, with her endless questioning, with her insistence on engaging her partners in tough discussions about domestic equity,  her deep need to engage in real no-holds-barred conversations about feelings with others,  she speaks to a part of me that has been desperately needing validation.  Fox helps me to see that I am not alone in my confusion, in my unhappiness, in the endless perfectionism and competitiveness that keeps me isolated from others.

Dead Horses? I've got my whip ready!

Let me expose more of my neuroses to the world as I pick apart and analyze my inner workings. As if I wasn’t already driving Freak crazy enough with wedding angst, health woes, and my quest to be the most expensive girlfriend/fiancee/future wife ever, I have an extreme case of baby-itis. You can thank the Redheaded Princess, Julie, Tertia,  Dooce, and the whole host of others in blogland with exceedingly beautiful babies.

I know, I know, I wrote a whole post about how I was so addicted to infertility blogs and needed to find a new corner of the blogging universe to lurk in.  However, with so many new babies to oooh and ahhh over and watch grow, it’s been rather compelling. Better than reality TV. 

A typical evening at Chateau Wavybrains: “Look at this picture!” Wavybrains conveniently does not mention that this is the 100th picture of Bella or Charlie or Tertia’s twins.  Freak glances at the screen for 1.2 seconds before uttering “cute” and slowly backing away from my desk.  Poor guy, he’s started ducking whenever I open my mouth. 

Which is probably reasonable, seeing how most things that spring out of it these days seem to be new ways for us to spend money.  What is unreasonable is the way I keep working babies into conversation. Every other sentence begins “when we have kids” or “if we have kids” etc. I’m starting to annoy even myself.  And I know that I’m driving Freak crazy.

Cause Freak doesn’t like pressure. He really, really, hates being backed into a wall. So, a nice wench would hear him say, “Yes, but now” and drop it. After all, he has a point: a) I have career aspirations that I’d like to address first, b) we’ve have enough major life events in the past two years, c) slightly more money in the bank would be helpful to avoid feeding our offspring government cheese, and d) I really do want him to be excited about the prospect and not looking like a gun is being held to his head. 

So why do I persist in beating dead horses? This really is the larger issue here.

Best of Blog Awards

Ok, so, we've already established that I'm a huge praise junkie.  But, the best of blog awards are starting tomorrow, and they have a bunch of categories, including best new blogs. This blog IS a new blog, started in August 2004.  There is also a category for most inspirational blog, and a bunch of other categories. Not hinting at all. No, no, no.  Would not do that. 

And while, we're at it, I'm going to take this chance to solicit some constructive criticism from you.  What is this blog doing right? What would you like to see more of? Design changes are likely to happen again, and what would you like to see? Do the longer, column style posts work for you? Would you like more links? Less clutter? More pictures? Whatever, you want, this is your chance to weigh in. What would make THIS blog better for 2005?

My personal picks for who's doing it right in 2004:  (to be updated as I find more of my links on other computers): (Sample is hardly representative--and If I've left you or your personal favorites out--many apologies :P)

Best Overall: Chasmyn; Church of Steelle; A little Pregnant ; Pesky Apostrophe
Best New Blog:
Most Humorous: Dooce, Chez Miscarriage, A little Pregnant; Drooling Drip; Pesky Apostrophe
Biggest Blog Whore: Zero Boss; Church of Steele
Best Mommy Blog: Chasmyn, Dooce, Baggage Carousel 
Best Daddy Blog: Zero Boss, Church of Steelle
Best Adoption/Fertility: Chasymn; A little Pregnant; Uncommon Misconception; Jellybelly; Chez Miscarriage; Redheaded Princess
Best LGBT:
Snarkiest Blog: Dooce, So Close, A little Pregnant, Drooling Drip; Princess Girly Girl
Best Books/Literary:
Best Recipes/Cooking:
Best Sex Blog: Church of Steelle; Polyamorous Misanthrope
Most Inspirational: Princess Girly Girl
Best Weight loss/Fitness:
Best Knitting/Crafts: Chasmyn
Best Sports:
Best Music:
Best Poetry/Photo/Art: Dooce; Redheartleaf