AmericanAngst.com

The FreeCreditReport.com older lady in the commercials stops looking so inexplicably pissed off all the time.

Hollywood can manage to make a movie without ANY of the following:

• * a woman named Sarah, Grace, Anne, or any combination thereof
• * Religious or political sniping
• * vigorous hate toward anything government- or police-related
• * the main character’s profession is A Writer in some form or fashion (journalist, newspaper, reporter, author, blah blah could you BE any less creative Hollywood??)
• * the big one: NO MORE DEAD MOTHERS! Christ, I can’t even count how many movies I’ve seen in the last nine months where the main character’s mother is dead. Jesus H. And yes, as a pregnant person, it gave me quite the complex.

Further, would it kill em to:

let people actually CLAP in crowd scenes

convince actors that they won’t choke and/or DIE if they follow through on a drinking scene and actually fake SWALLOWING the beverage?!

actually review the shows they’re advertising on and STOP only putting those lower-screen ginormous Moving Ads for Other Shows at the most crucial lower-screen moment or during the one and only subtitle moment…

Final bitchiness that’s not exactly related enough to be in the lists above but which I feel annoyed enough about (helloooo lack o’ sleep!) that I can’t continue living without complaining ’bout it here:

What the HELL do the dual outdoor bathtubs imply in the Cialis commercials???

I am soooo tired of actors acting like they created/wrote/decided their characters, the plot, the way the character would speak or behave, as though the author and/or director hadn’t already handled that.

Did anyone else notice, in the movie teenwolf, in the very last scene (as in last minute of the movie), behind Michael J. Fox, there is a girl whose pants were undone?? And she’s suddenly noticed this and is frantically zipping ‘em back up??? I have seen this movie a thousand times and never EVER noticed it (until last week). George and I flipped out and cracked up (and rewound it about 30 times). The best we could come up with was that, per fashion standards in the 80s, the pants she was wearing were incredibly too-tight skinny jeans and, since the scene is in a gym during a basketball game and, likely, they had done numerous takes and the extras had to do a lot of sitting around, hurrying up and waiting, and girlfriend decided that  nobody would notice if she ohhh just unzipped for a few minutes, allowing her to breathe. But then…whoopsie, it had been so long waiting between takes that she forgot until it was too late. And there was no way, considering the way the footage was shot, that they could get rid of her in editing without reshooting the entire scene, which likely would have cost a bajillion rupees. So…they left it in, hoping most people wouldn’t ever notice. And, really, considering it’s been over 20 years and how many times I’ve seen it? I guess it was a good plan, but…still. It is soooo disturbing to see.

Grammar bitchiness o’ the day:

I very much want to implore people to learn that it is “TO no avail,” not ever ever ever “BUT to no avail.” GAH.

In other news, it’s not ever EVER “myriad OF” or “A myriad OF.” It’s simply “myriad” …nothing else. As in “Come see my myriad complaints.” Not “Come see my myriad OF complaints.” Gah times 12.

Love ya!

Must go. My precious chubby nugget is waking up again and my “ME” time for the day (read: 12 minutes) is promptly over. kaput. And I couldn’t be happier.

~Gracie

Just had to share these. Sorry to those who are wildly annoyed by baby pix. I’m working on a non-braggin’ mommy post, I promise!

In the meantime…share in the “awww!” with me!

(And a very happy Father’s Day to all the daddies out there!)

and my favorite, cause her’s stickin’ out her widdle tongue!:

Love,

~Gracie

I know it’s a little late, but …well…my hands have been a wee bit full:

But better late than never. George deserves a big ole shout out for being so great. He was amazing during the pregnancy and the birth, of course, but what he did for Mother’s Day was above and beyond and actually made me cry. I was in the hospital on Mom’s day and our nugget was in the NICU, so emotions were a bit raw, but he made things so much brighter by giving me the sweetest card, with lovely sentiments in it, which got my tears all a-flowin’ anyway, but then he gave me a gift that tops any he’s ever gotten. And I hafta share, not just to give him his well-deserved props, but also to help other fathers out there who may wonder just how to earn brownie points and be Awesomesauce Husbands:

He gave me that and, while he put it around my neck, he said: “A flawless diamond for a flawless mother.”

SOB!

I haven’t taken it off since and never plan to (in fact, you can probably see it in the first picture up above). Yeah, in case you hadn’t guessed, I heart my George. It just could not have been a better Mother’s Day, but to have a symbol of mom & child? To wear forever? And that he thought of it for me? Sigh. Swoon. He rocks sores.

Sorry - I’m sure y’all get bored with all my George Braggin’ but…he deserves it (and so much more).

~Gracie

The attached was taken at the hospital cafeteria. It’s one of two identical signs at the salad bar. Has been making my teeth itch for three weeks now. Perhaps it’ll make me feel better by sharing it with all of you, who can appreciate my consternation.

I just can’t get over how many people saw the sign and didn’t see the glaring error!

Gah!!!!

~Gracie

PS, it’s the apostrophe that is oh-so-freakin’ wrong.

PPS, by the way, our baby girl is finally home! yay! (And thank all of you for such sweet notes and posts! They made our days easier to bear and warmed our hearts. Thank you SO much!)

She was born on May 7 and we love her beyond measure. She’s still in the hospital, which is why we’ve been so absent. thank you all for your sweet notes and good wishes. Please keep them coming and keep us in your thoughts and prayers that we’ll be able to bring her home soon. (Note that she’s a-okay and won’t have any long-term issues - just that she had to be on some meds initially and now she has to be weaned off them. All breathing and feeding issues have been resolved, too, so it’s hopefully just a matter of time and we should have her home, safe and sound with her new fambuhlee.)

Say hello to Miss Camryn Olivia:

Love,

Gracie

T-minus 11 hours and counting till the c-section (insert control-freak-Gracie freaking OUT).

So my awesome-sauce coworkers threw George and me a terrific baby shower a week or two ago. It was SO much fun. They gave us some adorable gifts, including the two hockey-centric ones below:

How cool is that??

The other cool thing is that they brought in cloth diapers and had people decorate them. I thought they were so cute and creative, I had to share ‘em with y’all.

And, naturally, it wouldn’t be complete without a funny-slash-slightly-bizarre item, right? This one comes courtesy of a very funny coworker we’ll call “Mr. T” and is in honor of the c-section that, FSM-willing, we will be having in less than 12 hours. Enjoy the giggle below and please send us good wishes for a safe and healthy delivery of our precious ‘lil nugget.

Much love,

~Gracie (likely the last time I will be using that name for myself!)

(though…don’t hold me to that 100% cause…our dumb butts STILL haven’t settled on a name. We keep hoping that, once we meet our little girl, her name will just come to us and make sense and there will be no doubt who she should be.)

(I need to shut up and get to bed. Bye y’all!)

My poor George. He really is a trooper and a saint and deserves WAY better than me. He has been amazing through the entire pregnancy (well…except that part where he called me stoopid for being hormonal and crying because, according to him, pregnant women don’t FEEL self-loathing…they’re only ‘posed ta cry about the color of PAINT in the BABY’S room).

Yes. Yes, he did. (Don’t worry - we had a long talk and he’s…well…BETTER now.)

Anyway, I’ve had way more moments than he has. Truly. Not only has he done, literally, EVERYTHING? As in dishes, cleaning, dog care, errands, won’t let me lift anything, laundry, you name it? He’s also spent every single weekend since August remodeling the whole house. He’s been AMAZING. In every way you could think of and then more you wouldn’t dream of. I am seriously blessed ‘n lucky ‘n all that good shit.

I yam.

So when you add to all that the fact that sometimes my hormones just go all wonky and I become a bitch? Even when I KNOW how awesome-sauce my George is?? Ugh. I just feel wretched. I think of how much he’s had to put up with, with me ‘n my hormones and other preggo-related stuffs and I just can’t stand it. If my hands hadn’t been so destroyed throughout the better part of the pregnancy, I’d have shared more of it with you, but at least right now, I can tell you about one apology he deserves (though, to be sure, there are hundreds). In addition to him having to deal with (read: “choosing to,” let’s be honest…cause most men would’ve commenced w/beating my skull in by this point) the fact that my hormones have suddenly “helped” me decide that things that have been funny to us for the last, ohhhh, decade? Mmmmm…not so frickin’ funny anymore. I’ve actually found myself waggling my finger at him and raising one eyebrow in Angry Bitch Mode while asking “ohhhh, I’m sorry…is that SAR.CASM there? Is THAT whatcher DOIN there Mr. Smarty-Pants? Mr. Funny Man??”

Yes. Yes I have. I doubt it makes him feel better to know how awful I feel about my  behavior later, in spite of others telling me that at least I have the decency to feel bad, even if it’s later. And how some women are like that ALL the time and wouldn’t even dream of feeling bad, let alone apologizing. So …at least there’s that, they say. And I hope that makes him feel …well…if not *better* then at least…less like stabbing me in the buhjina.

So today’s much-required apology:

I’ve been craving sushi. Particularly the sushi from my favorite Certain Sushi Place. But let’s start off by having me admit that my beloved “sushi”? Is…not “really” sushi. It’s the Las Vegas roll. Which means avocado, cream cheese, rice, and…maybe a sliver of fake crab meat. Topped with a wee bit of spicy “Yummy Yummy Sauce” (hey, THEY call it that…not me). And honey-chile? It = DI-VINE. Ohhh god it’s good. I’ve only had it a few times this pregnancy, for various reasons, but for the last month or so I’ve been craving it INSANELY. And as the pregnancy winds down to its close (six days left to go! woot!), I’ve been wanting it even more, because I know how long it will be before we’re able to go again (at least 2-3 months, at best) and this makes Gracie verrrry sad. So I would mention it occasionally when we’d be discussing where to have dinner (we’re getting it out of our systems now, all the Eating Out stuffs, since, well…DUH). But I wouldn’t bring it up all the time, despite my great desire, because it’s pretty far away. In fact, it’s less than a mile from where George works and on a weeknight? There’s no WAY I’d make him come all the way home, then drive aaaaall the way back out there, just so I can eat fake sushi, yanno? I mean, we could meet there, but our hours are so different that it would still be a ginormous inconvenience for him (and yes, he is great enough that he would still agree to do it if I asked, but…that’s kinda why I …don’t).

But today? Today I became worse-than-usual-Preggo-twat. Today I had this grand idea. It started when George forgot to bring his lunch today. And…wonder of wonders, I actually had two seconds of clear thought before I left the house today to check the fridge to SEE if he forgot his lunch. And…wouldn’t ya know it, he did. It was spaghetti. With my homemade sauce (which, I have to just tell you? Is friggin awesome). So…well…I took it. I mean, it’s not like it was going to get up and drive to HIM, right? And we work so far apart, it’s not like I could even bring it to him (nor would he ever dream of driving back just to get it, much as he lurrrvs my sauce), so…*shrugs* SOMEONE should benefit, right?

So he IMs me later and tells me that he forgot it. I acknowledge that I saw that and…that I had taken it. He became quite upset w/me until I reminded him that I only took it AFTER his dumb ass had forgotten it. He allowed that that was true, but …still wounded him. But he was still good natured about it.

Somehow that conversation inspired me to offer the suggestion of meeting for sushi and then going to the movie theater around the corner from Certain Sushi Place to see *whispering in deference to Huge Jackman* Wolverine. I felt this was an utterly BRILLIANT idea.

He was less enthused about the idea for two reasons. 1) it’s opening weekend for the movie. This means that people who we hate on a regular basis? Will be ten times as many and ten times as BAD (as in behavior) at the theater; 2) apparently he already had PLANS to go to favorite-certain-sushi-place with friends next week. Ohhh, that’s right. without ME.

Clearly this was unacceptable and I proceeded to sweetly explain why.

George: Well since I”m meeting B and C at Certain Sushi Place on Monday for lunch I’d rather not eat there twice in one day. But I guess I can go to the movie.
Gracie: GASP@!
Gracie: YOU are going to Certain Sushi Place WITHOUT me?!
Gracie: AUGH!
George: Blame B, it was his idea
Gracie: i don’t care
Gracie: i’ve wanted to go there for months
Gracie: and i’ve been just waiting for you to agree
Gracie: and now you go without me??
Gracie: sniff
George: Oh please, you’ve only mentioned it this week.
Gracie: i won’t be able to go again till summer
Gracie: um…NO
George: Um.. yeah
Gracie: i’ve been mentioining it for a long time cause i’ve been craving it
Gracie: whatever
Gracie: have fun. i’ll just go on my own
George: Don’t be a snot, I jsut don’t want to go monday. I can go tonight.
George: BRB
George: sorry, some folks have 0 clue.
George: So do you want to meet there tonight after your appointment?
Gracie: no, no. i can just see if “T” wants to go or something. it’s ok
George: Yeah if her and “P” want to meet up tonight that’s fine with me.
Gracie: i meant alone. Or just me and her. Not everyone. you don’t need to do it twice. seriously. it’s ok.
George: It’s fine. not a big deal. if you want to go there tonight it’s fine with me.
Gracie: ok

See? See how long that took? And how I was just ridiculously and unnecessarily bitchy? Even beyond when I should have let it go, when he was trying to be nice and agreeing to go even when he really didn’t want to? Just to be a good guy? And how I was still all “no, no…it’s OKAY…I can go ALOOOONE”-ish??

Yyyyeah. I’m not proud.

So please, help my George understand that he doesn’t have to kill me or hate me or divorce me, even (though he’s free to rough me up a bit, cause…well…I deserve it cause some wimmins jus’ don’t listen). Seriously, though…y’all have to help him realize that this = just temporary and that he is my lobster and he is a great guy and I adore him and that I will so so SOOO be a better person ‘n wife in just a coupla days once the baby comes.

No really.

Overheard in the waiting room of the ultrasound doc/tech/whatever…

8 months pregnant woman saying, shocked, to her husband: “You’ve NEVER had a cold sore?!?” As though this somehow made him both defective AND naïve. Also? Tres uncool.

Sigh.

~G.

Sent via BlackBerry

*shameful behavior of Canadiens fans during American Anthem during playoff (or any hockey) games

*people who let their very young children run wild, especially at doc’s office. I’m currently watching two toddlers practically molest this poor guy in the waiting room and he’s trying to be polite, but…damn. And Grandma isn’t making a move or apology to stop them. Ditto them climbing on dr office furniture, knocking things over, etc. Gahd.

*people who wear more than a spritz of cologne. Wtf? What on earth makes them think that is at ALL appreciated? By anyone other than perhaps a john or strip-joint patron??

*People who overuse commas. I sooo want to ask them why…what their thinking or reasoning is (because it seems to me that some people just have a daily allotment of commas that they have to use or someone won’t feed ‘em, so they just gaze upon any ole document and just…hock the entire lot of commas at the sentence, letting em fall where they may), but…that would just be rude.

Signed,

Forever Askin’ Why

Sent via BlackBerry

Every time I smell the combo of fresh coffee and men’s (subtle) cologne, I’m transported. To airports and a time when people still dressed up to ride airplanes. To the rare occasions when I got to go along, not just waving goodbye to tiny windows that may or may not be the one where he sat reading the paper and stowing his mysterious briefcase. To pointy wing pins and ginger ale in a funny plastic cup and to that rare piece of minty gum to ease the ear-popping madness. Of endless morning skies with the bluest canvas imaginable. Of seeing the sun above the clouds and feeling special because you suddenly realize that it’s ALWAYS sunny up here, even when all the people "Down There" are seeing rain and gloom and you naturally assume that they couldn’t possibly know this and you feel a little sorry for their boring little lives of No Sun Knowing. Of the adventure and excitement of trips to anywhere, but especially (and almost always) to destinations unknown even though it was usually guaranteed that each unknown locale would contain a HoJos with an indoor pool and yummy fried clam strips at the diner. When holding hands was all it took to feel safe. When the world was bigger than I could fathom and everything was amazing and funny and educational and…generally Dad-centric.

Every time. And …just from that smell.

~G.