Unwarranted Advice: Bloggit

Everyone has a blog these days. Seriously, you can’t go five feet along the virtual highway without tripping over someone’s list of badly-written poetry, a really bitchin’ series of personal essays and articles about gaming or literature (or travel or cooking or eight billion other hobbies and activities), weblits and blogfics, or journalling communities established so people can come together as a group to bitch about shit and share porn.

Since I was a teenager, I’ve been hearing that the world has become a global village.  Zimbabwe might as well be next door, with the communicative, informative, connective qualities of the Internet.   Australia is down the street hosting a barbecue (Must have barbecues on the brain.  Jesus, what is my neighbour cooking out there?  I smell herbs and spices and roasting bread… God I’m hungry now…) in the middle of a snowstorm.  Did you see the kangaroo being chased by the lion in the community park? Watch out for those reindeer herders — they owe the Bushmen some money, and they’re getting shirty about it.  Also, France is having all sorts of questionable types over til all hours of the night, we’ll need to keep an eye on them.

Alright, so maybe it isn’t quite as ridiculous as that, and maybe my idea of a village is a little skewed.

Where was I again?

Right. Porn.

No, wait.  That wasn’t it.

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Spring Cleaning the Brain

I woke up this morning and didn’t want to get out of bed. The alarm kicked over and started beeping, so I rolled over and kicked Rick to hit the Snooze button. And proceeded to do this for the next 60 minutes. There’s something just awesome about coming out of the doze every 9 minutes to smack your husband and tell him to do something and not have to get out of bed to do it. Normally, I only get to do this an average of 2-3 times a morning, since the alarm’s usually set for 7:30. But because I had a godawfully early appointment on Monday, the alarm was set back an extra 45 minutes and it’s been that way ever since. That’s 5 more times I can smack Rick before I’m even fully awake.

But eventually, all good things must come to an end and when 8:00 rolls around, we simply have to get out of bed. The kids are awake, they need to be dressed, some semblance of nutrition has to be offered them. Beds have to be made, carpets need to be vacuumed, dishes need to be done. Websites need to be looked at and tea/coffee needs to be drank. Pre-K cartoons have to be turned on, because they’re not going to play themselves. Nosiree. The day has to start, whether I want it to or not.

Lately, the beginning of the morning is something I’ve been dreading. Everyone – including me – is getting sick of hearing me say this, but I’m now 40 weeks pregnant, and doing anything after being supine or immobile for long periods of time (like oh, say, 7-8 hours of sleeping) means a bunch of snaps, crackles and pops that wouldn’t go amiss in a bowl of Rice Krispies. The ligaments in my pelvis have been stretched and twisted to hell and back, so movement is actually painful until they loosen up again. Normally, this distracts me away from doing anything but the bare minimum.

But this morning, with the added bonus of an extra 5 instances of Rick-beating, I couldn’t help but notice how goddamn beautiful it is outside today. Yesterday, a light dust of snow fell. This morning, it looks bright and cheerful and warm and hopeful and sunny out my window. It’s enough to make me want to spring clean. Or maybe that’s just the nesting instinct finally kicking in. Sadly, there are too many chemicals I can’t sniff this late in the having-a-kid game, and there’s a weight limit to how much I can lift now. And it’s been nice, watching Rick run around and be my housebitch for the last few months… but on days like today, when I really want to clean something, I either can’t because of inherent risks or will not be allowed to, because I married an overprotective Southerner chock-full of testosterone and the sort of manly scent Old Spice claims to be able to wash away.

So I have to settle for some internal spring cleaning, and with that notion, today’s been set aside for me to winnow out the cobwebs and reorganize the disused and dusty corners of my brainpan.

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