Yep, I'm old

Yesterday was my birthday.

My apologies to Andrew, who scolded me for not telling him when my birthday was (in advance) so he could "send me a card or something." I don't quite understand how he doesn't remember the date. After all, we had physics together in 12th grade. (Well, 11th grade, if you are wee Andrew).

Wee Andrew. That sounds funny. He's hardly wee, is he?

You know who IS wee? Samson! I passed around the ultrasound at the j.o.b. today, and everyone oohed and aahed. I felt a pang of maternal pride. That was kind of cool.

So I'm sitting around the j.o.b., hesitant to go home because I know the house is empty, and that's lame. Dave is going to Max's basketball game tonight down at Edmund Burke. And the traffic is going to be horrible for both of us.

Work was actually kind of rewarding today. I put together a booklet for a presentation the guys have on Thursday. I got praised. I didn't see my boss all day. Overall, it was not too bad a day.

Why, oh why, won't my inbox accept big messages anymore? I find it irritating.

Blah blah. I've lost it. Too late for writing. Til tomorrow...

The beach!

We already have our next vacation planned, thanks to Poppy, a.k.a my dad.

On Thanksgiving, my dad said, "I'm thinking about renting an apartment at the beach for a week next summer. Mom and I would stay all week, and you guys could come and go whenever!"

The apartment he rented just happens to be the same one we stayed in every year when we were small. Those Ocean City vacations were the greatest - back when a week seemed like a lifetime. I have so many great memories from that time - my dad cursing as he packed the car at four in the morning, stopping at Wilbur's produce stand for cantaloupes on the way (nobody grew them sweeter), my grandmother's bottomless bag of candy and comparable animosity toward seagulls, who had a habit of pooping on her.

My sister and I would wake up at 5 am, ready to go to the beach, but would happily oblige my mother when she suggested that we go out on the porch and count the seagulls to pass the time. I recently realized that was a trick, and she was probably amazed when we fell for it, but we did.

After breakfast, we'd walk the half block to the beach. In between sand castles, my sister and I would jump waves with my dad. Later in the day, we would pack it up, take showers, and hit the boardwalk. We'd stroll to the inlet, taking in all the t-shirt shops and taffy joints along the way, then play a few rounds of skee-ball. We'd finish off the night with a ride on the carousel, a peanut butter dip-top (over chocolate soft serve, of course), and a ride back to 8th street on the tram.

Today, Dad called to confirm the dates of our family vacation. "You do have to bring the baby," he said, as if I could imagine leaving him at home. After all, it seems to me that that's the point - for all of us.

I think mom and dad are going to make pretty terrific grandparents.

He's still a boy!

My mom wanted proof that her grandbaby is a boy. So, Mom, here it is:

Ha ha! Okay, that's funny. Now, here's the real one for those of you who are already putting together an album:

Isn't he just the cutest!?

I have to tell you, we were thrilled to get this picture after the whole Skeletor fiasco last time. We were also lucky that he stayed still long enough to get this shot. Dave says he looks like a little teddy bear.

Stats: I'm now 25 weeks along. Sam is 1 lb 15 oz (there are 16 oz to a pound, metric people). He is 150 mm long from the top of his head to the bottom of his little butt, which makes him about six inches long, plus legs. I read the other day that my uterus is roughly the size of a soccer ball, and I am now decidedly showing.

15 weeks to go!

Almost here!

Thanksgiving is almost here! It's starting a little early for me. The j.o.b. is closing at 2 and I am going on a date with the hub. We're going to go see the new James Bond movie, which I understand is fantarific.

(Daniel Craig does not equal Clive Owen, who is a total dreamboat, but I will reserve judgment on the selection until after the movie).

Between 2 p.m. today and Friday morning, my plan is to relax and reconnect. I am so, so fried. I'm not even sure which way is up anymore. I plan to sit around, read, practice my guitar, and nap gratuitiously. I also plan to avoid television like the plague, if at all possible.

On Thanksgiving Day, we are having a small gathering at my parents' house - just the 'rents, my sister, Dave and me. I will stuff myself like a pig. My dad is threatening to bust out the slide projector and show lots of slides from the 70s. My butt is bare in most of them, as I remember. Or maybe it just seemed that way. Should be exciting (?) for Dave since he has never had the privilege of enjoying one of my Dad's slide show presentations.

Friday, I will work half a day, then I'm off to an ultrasound and check up. And after that, who knows?

2 hours, 4 minutes, 16 seconds to go.

Almost time to relax

Looks like the world might actually stop spinning on Thanksgiving.

Things have been pretty hectic. A few really huge projects that, so far, have been completed or at least managed to client expectations. One more big deadline on Monday, and then I can breathe.

I still have other projects, which is a good thing, but at least things should slow down somewhat. I've gotten many nagging items done over the past couple of weeks, so I feel like a weight has been lifted.

So what's next for me in this crazy life? Dave and I were talking about that tonight over dessert at La Madeleine (a macaroon and hazelnut latte - mmm). I've always wanted to go back to graduate school. One of the great regrets of my life is not going on right after undergrad. There were a number of people who felt I could do very well in an academic life, but I was hell-bent on settling down.

Now that I'm once again bitten by the academic bug, I just don't know what to work on first.

Dave was telling me about an interview he saw with the guy who owns the Sands Companies. (He's worth about $800 billion). When he was asked what he would do differently if he were a young man again, he said he would go to business school. He said he had accumulated all that knowledge through experience (read: mistakes) over the years, but that he felt he could have done more if he'd had more school.

At one point, I thought about an MBA. But now I don't know. Something tells me that if you aspire to be more or less a freelancer, part of a confederacy of non-conforming marketers, designers, and programmers who regularly refer work to each other but can't tolerate the notion of working for someone else, then who needs an MBA? MBAs are good for people who want to manage organizations, right? That's where you go to be a manager at a company, like, with other people in it. Seems like a waste of energy if I don't want to go there again. And, as I told Dave, at this moment I can't imagine a scenario under which I would like to go back into that environment, whether my name's on the door or not.

Of course, I reserve the right to change my mind at some time in the future.

I love a great many things: fiction, music, science. It almost doesn't matter what I pursue. What I miss is the buzz of original thought. Of finishing the work and taking the test. Of getting the grade. Of starting all over again the next semester.

For now, this is all just pondering. I have a baby coming in 17 weeks, and I'd like nothing more than to breathe him in as much as I can for as long as I can. And then we'll see. I choose to believe that there's lots of time.

Daughtry

I've been listening to Chris Daughtry's new album these past few minutes. It's actually really good! Check it out on vh1.com

What's up?

Okay! What's up with Ann?

Not much to report, unfortunately. I have been quite sick the past few days (without NyQuil! No!), but I seem to be getting over it now.

Had a great meeting this morning with one client, only to find out that another is pissed at me. Story of my life. All is well at the moment.

On the whole, things are going well with work. I have a lot of things going on, but I got past one major deadline this week. I have one more this coming Monday, and then we're in good shape. I feel good about everything else that's going on - things are happening in due time.

The spud is growing as expected.

Lost went off the air until February [bastards!]. Heroes still rocks.

That's about it! Work and handful of TV shows. Sad.

Oh, I have a guitar recital in two weeks! I'm a little anxious about that. I'm learning Summertime, but it's not ready. I'm used to already knowing the songs by now. Dave and I are also playing two duets, which is the best part.

And that really is it! Rock on!

Niiice.

Borat!

Dave and I drove home from the beach on Monday just in time to catch Borat (they didn't have it on the shore - I guess they thought it would distract from all their Ehrlich signs) and then got home in time for Heroes.

It's been a long time since I've seen a movie that was both hilarious and deeply disturbing.

Hilarious because Sacha Baron Cohen is just that good. Disturbing because of the portrait it paints of many of our fellow Americans, whose behavior is just plain terrifying.

But I guess, if we didn't have Borat, the results of the same-sex marriage questions across the country would have alerted us nevertheless.

By the way, if you haven't visited the Borat website, please do. It's as awesome as the movie.

Yay!

And now, from the "Icing on the Cake Department," happy news from Yahoo.

I've got happy feet today.

The old guard is all smiles and handshakes as they prepare to kiss ass in Congress for the next two years. "Blah blah blah non-partisan blah blah roll up our sleeves blah blah."

Running scared, baby.