The voice coach taught me to sing; he couldn't teach me to love

El Esposo and I have been very productive lately. We have done lots of baby prep, house work and organization, and I have started a new relatively large freelance contract which means I get to work an extra ten hours a week for the next six weeks (which would be slightly more awesome if I didn't already work 45 hours a week and wasn't 7 months pregnant, but--you know--I'll take it). El Esposo is still planning on hanging a bunch of drywall in our gutted basement room, and, with some help, regrading the lawn so no more water gets in the aforementioned room. And then there's the missing shingle or two on the roof-blech. Homeownership. This Wednesday we start taking our childbirth classes. We expect all of this to pretty much take us up to full term with the bebe.

So, last night, we somehow ended up staying up way late for a Sunday night with me going through several of my old CD's and playing snippets for El Esposo. He was most impressed with this one:



Which I totally agreed with. I am not a Pavement super-fan like a certain other member of my family, but Brighten the Corners doesn't sound so aged and obviously nineties as a lot of my other old stuff. It still fits right into the indie milleu that has followed--and is frankly better than most of it. If you missed it way back in 1997, now is still a good time. Old Man Malkmus sounds a bit brighter and more brilliant than the more recent stuff I have heard, which is still pretty quirky and interesting. I don't know enough to tell you whether it's the quintessential Pavement album. I'm guessing probably not. But it may be the most consistently awesome. To each his own, of course, but I think if you don't love screaming along to "Stereo" you might just be no fun at all.

summer illustrated

I still haven't solved my camera's technical issues, but here are some pics from El Esposo's phone.

Hiking in the Shenandoahs for birthday luxury camping weekend

Hitting the beach on labor day weekend Friday (hardly anyone was there yet), or maybe this was early Saturday morning while everyone was sleeping?


Beach hair, though a lot of the time mine was crazier than this. I just want to clarify that the weirdness is not due to the fantastic haircut.


A self-portrait + the condo + farmer's tan + fetus at approximately 6 months

*SAND ART*
Since I couldn't ride the human slingshot, we attempted art while at the beach. The first attempt, Reclining Pregnant Woman, fit nicely with the "babymoon" theme. Though it actually started as a man with ridiculous eighties hair, I suggested the change. It was mostly El Esposo's handiwork. I think he did a great job.


See what care he took?


We worked together to create a dog--I mean an alligator--no a lizard--no, wait, a dragon with very buff long arms. Here I am trying to construct the face for the 67th time, hoping it will not crumble again.


67th try was the charm and El Esposo tamed the dragon... or something.



And I don't know about you, but that's good enough for me for a summer farewell.

just stuff occuring to me today

1. Today I learned that I still have not figured out how to properly open one of these

without some type of paper mishap. Actually, I might have figured it out sometime during elementary school, but that knowledge is now gone. My nine-year-old self would not be impressed. (The picture on the carton happens to be John Kerry, which is just what google brought up--hmmmm.) But really, couldn't they make it easier? The instructions on the carton never really work quite right.

2. I also realized that I have become paranoid about sick people. I read so much crap about pregnancy and thus can't avoid H1N1 and the stories are all about women dying in the third trimester and the big question of whether or not to get the vaccine when it comes out and everyone is sick right now (including El Esposo). I am not paranoid enough to wear a mask everywhere yet, though; I'm just taking up OCD handwashing. I hope this is not a sign that I'm going to overparent. Sorry, sick people. I hope you get better soon. Like really soon. Maybe I'm especially creeped out today because it's 9/11 and everything creeps me out on 9/11: working in DC and taking the train included.

3. It's worth spending the extra five bucks to get a decent umbrella. This guy with lots of time on his hands has documented why. Today I carried a working umbrella for a change, which kept me from yelling at the umbrella in a frustrated fashion where I could be easily mistaken for one of those mentally ill homeless people walking the streets of the city.

Everyone take care of yourselves. It is always on this day that I wonder what -- other than national mourning -- can ever unify us. Maybe we can just be nice to people: sick people, homeless people, manufacturers of milk cartons...

the final countdown

eleven weeks left of the J-O-B.

Either A) El Esposo is Vidal Sassoon or B) We Are Too Budget-Obsessed

I let the man cut my hair. And when I say cut my hair, I mean into an actual style --short and sassy once more. It was getting ick. Was it worth saving $60? Well, probably. Though it was not a stress-free experience for either of us, I think it turned out pretty good. Pictures? Soon, hopefully.