Blown Fuse

Cupid is irrelevant.

Valentine's Day is a lot more interesting when there's a kid in the picture. Scott and I have been together for 5 1/2 years and tend to go through holidays like a frog bounding from lily pad to lily pad - we never really go all out and spend a lot of effort on one particular one...except for Christmas 2005 - the first time we bought a tree.

I can't even remember what we did for V-Day last year, so that should be a indicator of "nothing." Rosco won't even remember what happened on his first Valentine's Day, but now is a good time as any to start giving him these little events to look forward to. I want to mold him not to give his future girlfriends obviously cheap gifts like the one a certain ex-boyfriend gave me in high school (it was a cheap-ass stuffed bear holding a minature foil balloon mounted on a plastic container filled with hard candy and a single rose in a plastic tube that he got from his job).

Ever since he was born my arts 'n crafts gene has been working overtime and I keep wanting to start projects. Being home full-time certainly allows for a bit more freedom in that regard. I made homemade valentines for Rosco to send to his aunts and grandmothers this year (even though in a state of sleep-deprived delirium I accidentally put the wrong date on the inside: there are at least eight people wondering if that was meant to be some cryptic code). We (meaning I) made a special treasure hunt for Scott that involved enough decorative paper and planning that any Kindergarten teacher would be put to shame. Maybe he'll grow up thinking that it isn't all about the commercial crap, but a time for people to connect (yeah, right). I have to say it was fun hiding little clues around the house leading to Scott's gift - I actually looked forward to setting that up more than the fact that I would potentially get a gift.

Anyway. Rosco got a Valentine's Day outfit to wear for today. Unfortunately, he can't yet fit into his Captain Heartbreaker pajamas or booties...or the matching superhero belt we bought. :)

"You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."

People who know me well are familiar with the fact that I'm a Star Trek connoisseur. That is not to say that I have a Klingon costume in my closet and that I attend Trek conventions. I just watch the show, particuarly those in the "The Next Generation" franchise.

I got into Star Trek years ago when I was still living at home with my grandma. My uncle used to drive down from New York every couple of weeks to cut the grass and scour small town bookstores for rare volumes. We couldn't get cable out in the sticks, so if we planned on being enertained by the television at all, it had to be network stations. My uncle used to commandeer the big t.v. in the den and watch Star Trek. I haaaaated him for it - I couldn't get more than a couple of stations on the t.v. in the back of the house, and he wouldn't budge.

It wasn't until "Deep Space Nine" came out in 1993 that I began taking any interest in the show (a couple of the characters from TNG had transitioned into the show, so they were familiar to me). It was one of the new UPN network's new programs and the previews looked interesting...so I watched it. When "Voyager" was created several years later, I watched that, too (I'm still not a fan of the original series because James Kirk embodies "cocky asshole" in my opinion).

Anyhow, Scott has some perverse addiction to all things Star Wars. I'm sure I've discussed that before. He often joked about how Star Trek was a cheap rip-off of Star Wars and was only successful because it was riding on the wings of what George Lucas had created. Right. Sure. I didn't argue with him, however I always teased that I was going to buy the baby Trek action figures so that he'll know which side his allegiance is to early on. Being on paternity leave must do crazy things to the head, because guess who's watching Star Trek reruns, now? Mm hmm.

And not a speck of sunburn in sight.

We are, obviously, back from our Florida vacation. Other than it being hot as horse shit on pavement down there, I think we had a good time.

The only way it could have been better was for there to have been fewer people in the theme parks...because pregnant women don't like tourist groups bumping into them nonstop. More in the extended entry.

The flights into Tampa were pretty uneventful, other than the fact that my left ear never uncorked itself during the quick descent on the Miami - Tampa route. We stayed at the Radisson in Clearwater, where surprisingly the rooms have those Sleep Number beds. I'm a 35. Scott is a 55. The room was decent-sized and clean...that is after I got them to trade us out of the smoking room they booked us into.

We went to Busch Gardens in Tampa on Friday. There were lots of people with strollers and the animals were all either listless or asleep because of the heat. We rode two of the water rides which were safe enough for a pregnant woman because they didn't require belts or harnesses....and they didn't turn your ass upside down.

On Saturday we went to St. Petersburg to the Salvador Dali museum (which would have been a lot more enjoyable if not for all those fuckers standing way too close to me - SHIT, FUCKING MOVE! The art's on the wall, not on my back!) There were some works there by other famous Spanish artists (Picasso, Gris, etc.) which I enjoyed seeing. When I go to art museums, I like to move slowly around the gallery looking at everything in detail and reading the placards. The museum had back-to-back tour groups going through which made any kind of contemplation impossible, but I still think it was worth the price of admission.

I would have liked to have spent more time exploring St. Petersburg, but we only had three days there, so we crammed in what we could. We had a late lunch at Too Jay's where I had half of a pretty darn good vegetable lasagne (half because eating for two doesn't mean two giants).

We went to Clearwater Beach to watch the sunset in the evening which was quite relaxing...other than trying to find parking.

I think Sunday had to have been the hottest day we were there. Scott, who used to work at Disney (heh heh, foodservice), wanted to go to Animal Kingdom. I thought I was going to die at one point from heat exhaustion. I love how Disney parks are so family-friendly and they make it easy for kids and adults to ride the same attractions. I hated feeling like I was in a stroller roller-derby, though. I just knew at one point one of those things was going to go right into my shins.

To be frank, heat exhaustion or not, Animal Kingdom has the edge over Busch Gardens Tampa. It's a much more expensive experience, but everything in the park seemed so thoughtful. Standing in line for certain rides was like being in a little microcosm of some Himalayan villiage or safari office - the props were outstanding.

So, we're home now. I definately want to visit a few more Disney parks in the near future, but hot damn it'll have to be in the fall or spring when it's not sweltering.

You can see all the vacation pictures in my flickr account.

Micro Vault

This here little gem is the Sony MicroVault USB storage device.

Isn't it cute? It's like a little lipstick. I requested this as my anniversary present from Scott. Now I can carry top-secret documents around in my bra.

I'm pretty excited about it. I wanted a way to transport my short stories around when I'm working on them that didn't require me carrying around CDs and floppy disks. Emailing stuff to myself just got too complicated.

Now I can stick this li'l sucker in my work computer and do some quick edits while I have time during lunch.

I'm stoked.

I can smell the salty air already.

I haven't been cooking much lately. Part of that is because by the time I get home I'm so lethargic that I only have enough energy to lift a beer to my lips. I've even taken to napping lately.

The idea of doing anything "fun" other than laying on the sofa wrapped up in a blankie watching t.v. seems like an annoyance.

Fortunately for us, we're going to plan to take some vacation time next month. We were tossing around the idea of taking a cruise somewhere or flying down to somewhere practical but given the fact that we're in the process of refinancing our house and doing renovation it just isn't financially responsible to be skipping off anywhere like that...and besides, we want to take a vacation that's at least a week long. That elimates certain cost-prohibitive locations right off the bat.

So, we're going to Bald Head Island. It's an NC island at the very beard of the Outer Banks that is only accessible by boat and where you can only get around via golf cart.

We've been there once before during the winter. The place was desserted and very peaceful.

I've made a pact with myself that I want to get a tan at some point this summer, so there we go.

I plan on buying a stack of books and not touching any of them until I'm laying on a beach with a sun beating down on my head.

Ah, that's the life.

"...down to Kokomo, that's where we want to go."

My wedding anniversary is coming up. We never really do anything for any holiday or special dates because we work so hard Monday - Friday that on days off we're like "Pbst. Fuck that."

Since I know I'm not going to get that huge bling-bling ring that all Southern girls should have I might as well settle for something we both can use. We are, however, trying to find time to take a vacation. I immediately thought "Cruise! Cruise!," however I must confess that I'm minorly turned off by all the nasty food poisoning inicidents of last year and the year prior. I'm also severely nauseated by the smell of salt water when experienced from within he bowels of a boat (ferries included).

I surmise that flying somewhere and booking a hotel would be less expensive than a seven day cruise, don't you think?

Anyone know from experience? Any recommendations?

I've never left the country, so I'm exicted to go somewhere tropical.

Talk me down from this ledge.

I've always knew I would adopt a kid. Scott believes this to be more Tiffany crazy-talk.

Seriously. There's a little 7-year-old somewhere in a corner with coke-bottle glasses and holey tennis shoes that no one wants because she's too old to adopt.

"They all have emotional problems," says Scott.

Hell, I have emotional problems. Watch as I go from sensitive human being to crazy-ass bitch in three seconds . . . Good. I'm there. And WHAT?

Scott: "We'll be too busy with our own children."

Huh? A) That would legally be our child. B) How would one more be of any consequence if you're already planning for 3?

Scott: "Grumbledon'twanttobebotheredGrumble."

Jesus loves the little children. Why don't you?

Granted, there are some kids in the "system" that are seriously screwed up. They grow up and do terrible things and blame it on nobody wanting them. Then, there are also those kids who are there because both parents are dead and there was no one else to take them in. They're like those pitiful animals at the shelter that are pressed up against the bars calling you, but you're disgusted because they're so skinny and you want a puppy.

Have a heart, Scott. You won't even have to clean the litter box change any diapers.

While you were out...

It's around 5:22 central time, so it's probably safe to spill the beans on my little secret.

I painted the kitchen.

And Scott doesn't know.

Since he's probably in an airport in Minnesota somewhere right now, I'm hoping he doesn't read this before he gets on the plane.

I painted it a grey-brown color. I think it looks great with all the white wainscoting, but we'll see what his reaction is when he walks through the door.

It might be a shock to him because it's all so messy with there being smudges on the ceiling and all, but I think overall he'll be pissed because I picked out a color without his guidance.

The Crappy T.V.

The Mister has purchased for himself a new game for the PlayStation II...so that means I'm temporarily banned from the living room t.v.

There are several problems with having to watch t.v. in the bedroom, namely 1) there's no VCR or DVD player attached, and 2) it's old as fuck, so it doesn't receive cable channels higher than 67.

Come to think of it, I think my new computer screen is the same size as the bedroom t.v...I wonder how much a tuner card would set me back (assuming I don't have one)...I'd probably come out ahead buying a new t.v.

I'd like my 2 degrees back.

Scott's been in Minnesota on business for the past couple of days.

You know, the house is a lot colder when you have to sleep alone. That whole "jump at every bump in the night" thing isn't so fun, either.

*shakes fist*

I love him to death, but Scott has the terrible habit of telling me not to buy things in stores because he has whatever at home that I can have.

Liar.

Now I have to go back and get the thing I knew I needed to start with. GUH!

I've figured it out.

I've think I've figured out the reason why North Carolina is taxing Scott and I so fucking high. Because we're D.I.N.K.-y (double income, no kids).

We need some dependents*.

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*and by "dependent" I mean that I will claim you as a leech on my taxes, but will in no way, shape, or form ensure you benefit from our D.I.N.K.iness. This will likely fuck up your own tax filing, so proceed with caution.

*kicks your shin with my heel*

Dear Husband:

I realize you are on vacation this week. That's cool. I, however, am not and will be therefore quite cranky as a result.

Please respect the little people and not set your alarm clock for two hours before you have have any reason to get up.

You know I take great pleasure in my last twenty minutes of sleep. Your VERY VERY VERY loud alarm clock going off for NO REASON every eight minutes is not my ideal way to start the day.

Thank you,

The management.

Following one's heart is never wrong.

With all of the talk of the "Joe Average" and "Bachelorette" going on around the blogosphere, I've been thinking about how wrong it is to be put on the spot to choose someone under such circumstances. It's not only wrong for those people who fall in love too quickly with the "star" but also for the person who signed up for it thinking that it would get them some media exposure. Why would anyone want to toy with their future that way?

Scott and I got married the stress-free way. About a year from the date that we had met, we went down to the police station to see the magistrate and had a civil ceremony. Our witnesses were two people we found in the building.

Neither of our families were apprised of our doings until after the fact, though they were well aware of what our intentions were. We had been "shackin' up" for the majority of the duration of our relationship because it seemed like the right thing for us to be doing, although everyone had their opinions:

Grandma: "Why would he buy the cow if he's getting the milk for free?"
Mom-in-law: "Are you sure you want to do that? She's not even out of school yet..."

My grandmother wanted me to have a wedding because she has a list of things she wants me to have (like success, happiness, etc.). My mother wanted me to have a wedding because she likes weddings. In fact, she likes weddings more than she likes the marriages attached to them.

I wanted a wedding. I wanted the satisfaction of planning a wedding and having it turn out to be everyone's dream of what such an event should be. It just didn't seem practical at the time. I couldn't really expect anyone to foot the bill for it and I wasn't in any predicament to pay for it myself. And besides that, I wasn't enthused about the prospect of having a family reunion disaster involving drunk uncles, screaming siblings, and finger pointing.

What really tipped the scales against me having a real wedding ceremony was the fact that there wouldn't be anyone to walk me down the aisle. I'm as modern and forward-thinking as any card carrying feminist, however I couldn't in good conscience walk down the aisle alone knowing that wasn't the way I intended it to be.

The one person I had always hoped to give me away (my uncle Peter) had passed during my freshman year of college, and I certainly wasn't going to swallow my pride and call my father.

When the magistrate had us saying our vows, I didn't stand there wondering if everyone else was happy and if the caterers had shown up on time to set up dinner. I stood there looking at the man that I'm supposed to spend the rest of my life with and didn't have another care in the world.

I had a dream the other night where Uncle Pete was confirming that I had did the right thing and that I would be okay. I feel now that not only did I pick the right person, but the right person for always.