5am Eternal

Last night I awoke at 5am. I was overly warm and tired of laying on my left side. I slowly turned on to my back, but since we pregnant folk aren't supposed to lay on our back it was just a quick stop on the way to laying on my right side. When you're laying down flat and have the equivalent of a basketball glued to the front of your stomach shifting position becomes more like a dead lift or boulder toss (like in the World's Strongest Man Competition). As I attempt to hurtle my body on its side, I immediately get a cramp in my abdomen in what I can only imagine is the place in my body where my former abs have relocated to. At this point I'm in pain. Actual shooting muscle cramp pain. So I hit the Husband awake with my free arm and feebly ask for help. The Husband is half asleep and disoriented and at first I don't make it clear that it's not a back cramp or a leg cramp but a belly cramp. He manages to prop me up at which point now the cramp gets worse every time I try to breathe. I also happen to notice that at this point in time the inside of my mouth feels like I've swallowed wallpaper paste. Eventually I managed (with help from the Husband) to get back on my left side where after a few minutes the pain subsided. Husband then trekked down to the kitchen and got me a drink and we opened a window so that our bedroom was no longer the same temperature as the surface of the sun.

I manage to fall back asleep by 5:30am only to be rudely awoken at 7am for a visit by the contractor. Then on the train we managed to encounter a very nice gentleman who we've met before, only problem is he likes to test out his latest amature stand-up comedy routine on fellow riders and so he talked the *entire* way from PJ to NYC. Then I had my review at The Job. It went fine, but all in all it meant that after a bad night's sleep and no breakfast I had to be sociable for over 2 hours straight. I'm too much like Howard Hughes to have to be that sociable.

Dinner... with nods to Jamie and Giada...

Last night we managed to get home at an unreasonably early hour thanks to the general sloth of our co-workers (meaning one didn't bother to come in, one was in California, presumably recovering from an Oscar party, one's last day is on Wednesday and one was sequestered to jury duty)... this was the perfect opportunity to make dinner! I had been perusing Jamie's Italy (Jamie Oliver's new cookbook companion to his Jamie's Italy tv show that the MOM got me for Christmas) and had seen a picture of these really neat looking "silk purses" (i.e. big handkerchief sized pasta) in pesto sauce. I had been inspired and when I was battling the Mongolian horde of food shoppers at Wegman's on Sunday I picked up the necessary ingredients... or at least the best I could do. I had to substitute Pappardelle for the silk purses, but either way the end result was a really nice looking dish.

I made the pappardelle, in a pesto sauce with fresh cut grape tomatoes tossed in with a little grated parm on top... Adding the tomatoes was my own thing because who doesn't like those little baby tomatoes? (Leda, but Leda doesn't like any tomatoes.... she's the exception which proves the rule). As an accompaniment I roasted asparagus (very thin ones!) in olive oil, salt and pepper and then wrapped the asparagus in prosciutto. (Giada's recipe!)

Tonight: Time permitting we'll be having angel hair pasta with italian sausage in a lemon artichoke pesto (with sauteed artichoke hearts). We may or may not have graffiti eggplant on the side, I have to see if I can find any creative recipes... but don't fret. The rest of the week is looking like (i) tuna-- though lemon pepper tuna with capers, on toast, (ii) frozen manicotti and (iii) frozen pizza. One can only muster so much culinary stamina during the work week.

Chocolate-y Goodness...

The Husband came by this afternoon with a handful of change on his way to visit the newstand/snack bar downstairs at the Job. I was generally indecisive suggesting that something like a hostess cake or a devil dog would be good. A few minutes later the Husband appeared with a bag full of goodies. First choice-- Famous Amos mini chocolate chip cookies... second option... OREOS! Who doesn't love Oreos? (well, the Dad for one after an incident back in the '70's where he ate an entire box... but everybody else pretty much likes oreos!) So, I'm here with a little box of oreos and what ho! The office has a supply of milk in the fridge (mainly for coffee drinkers, but hey, I've also been hitting up the milk stash for cereal in the mornings, so why not a mid-afternoon cookies and milk-fest?) Yay! Cookies and milk! Now if only I could manage to take a nap under my desk...

ps. the new desk chair finally arrived. The stuffed cat is very happy that it is no longer needed as lumbar support.

Oscars and Obama...

First, Kudos to Marty Scorsese for finally winning an Oscar. And, was it just me or did Lucas look pissed? Okay, Alan Arkin? I mean I'm glad Eddie Murphy didn't win as everyone was predicting because Pluto Nash still does exist out there and I don't think you can give an Oscar to someone who's current box office topper is Norbit, but come on. Alan Arkin? Marky Mark should have won based on Planet of the Apes and the historic underwear ads alone.

What about the fashion? Reese Witherspoon's dress was great, so was Nicole Kidman's, after that nothing struck me. For the most part I thought the folks at E! (Ryan Seacrest included) were pretty annoying and petty, though I do have to agree with their assessment of poor Meryl Streep. When you've been nominated for any film that has "Prada" in the title, please, go and borrow a beautiful, gorgeous couture dress from someone, anyone. Don't try and raid Georgia O'Keefe's closet. It's just not becoming.

Next-- how long was that show? Jerry Seinfeld was the only funny part and I totally could have done without the Philobus dance troupe.

Finally, on a totally separate topic... I just received a letter asking me to donate money to Barack Obama's '08 campaign. Can I just say, I *still* don't know what the man's views on the issues are. It seemed from the form letter that he's opposed to the war in Iraq and that he has spent a lot of time "talking to people in coffee shops."

Breakfast with the Beatles, kind of...

Yesterday was one of our coveted Weef Days! The Husband planned out a great day for me in New York, including a pre-natal massage at Cornelia Day Spa. We started off the day, however, at Sarabeth's at the Whitney for a little brunch. Amazingly, when we got to Sarabeth's they were able to seat us immediately-- no wait! A few minutes after we were seated and placed our orders who walked in but Yoko Ono. Yoko was with an older european looking gentleman and a young Japanese woman kept taking photographs of them. Ironically, three women seated at the table between Yoko and ourselves (who seemed to be Swedish) at one point asked Yoko's photographer... "Will you take our picture too?" I don't quite think they understood both (i) that Yoko was at the next table and (ii) that the woman taking the pictures was taking pictures of YOKO. Hi, we're not on a Celebrity Cruise, pictures of you and your guests won't be posted by the door on your way out for purchase! By the way, apparently, Yoko is a fan of the Farmer's Omlette.

Fashion Forward

Why is it that 95% of my pregnancy wardrobe makes me look like a Jedi?

Daily Dose of MSNBC...

Have you heard yet about the latest Clinton-Obama issue over David Geffen's donations? Is Hilary for real telling Obama that he should give the money back??? I'm not an Obama supporter (though I know he's running for president, I certainly haven't seen anything yet that actually says what his stand on any issue is)... but I do have to say that the Clinton's stand on this issue is a bit ridiculous. Somebody tell Hil that she's not running the world yet, okay? And, you heard it here first (much like with Julia Robert's pregnancy).... if David Geffen dies in a mysterious crash/fire/earthquake, etc. something's telling me I think we have an idea who was behind it....

On the Anna Nicole theatrics in Fort Lauderdale, I think Dan Abrams said it best with the following quote: "I feel like it's an episode of Seinfeld. Like they are going to decide over Newman and Kramer, who gets Jerry's bike," Abrams said. "It's a hearing about nothing."

And, finally, just what we've been waiting for... Prince Harry is being deployed to Iraq... didn't Tony Blair just talk about upping the return rate of British troops?? Yet we're going to send the person who's third in line for the throne to Iraq? I see a sequal to "The Queen" in the making, Helen Mirren, clear your schedule.

Pain in My...

My desk chair at the Job has never been very good. I've had this chair since about 2004 now and I had taken it from another office when we did a move and essentially it looks like something salvaged from 1983. The back is completely not adjustable, neither are the armrests and because of the height of the armrests the chair can only get *so* close to my desk-- not really enough for sitting here hours on end to be comfortable. Things finally came to a head earlier on in my pregnancy where between my naturally bad posture, even worse sagging pregnancy posture and the total inflexibility of my office chair I had begun to get a sharp pain in my right-middle back. I noticed that it got worse when I had to use my computer (something that I realized after having not needed to use my computer extensively for a couple of weeks where the pain subsided...) Finally at my January doctor's visit I asked for a note so I could get a new chair. Preferably one that's adjustable and not seemingly designed by angry Shakers. I turned in my note and was told I'd get a new chair. So far, nothing. Today the back pain started in at 11am. I sent an email to the chair ordering big-wig and have received no response so far.

I have a number of strange items in my office, including a Hartland statute of Warren Spahn, an Obi-Wan Kenobi action figure from Burger King and a number of stuffed animals. Luckily for me the stuffed cat that I received a few Halloween's ago with some Godiva chocolate works well as a lumbar support substitute. Yes, for now, I am sitting here with a stuffed cat behind my back.

Coinage

The Dad has informed me that he has sent me a roll of the new $1 coins. This is very exciting as I am a bit of a closet coin and stamp geek. We got a good laugh over the fact that Jimmy Carter is currently gumming up the works for a Ronald Reagan $1 coin since the "rule" for currency is that a president has to be dead for at least 2 years before they can appear on any form of currency and apparently for these purposes the Mint won't skip Carter. Anyhoo, this brings me to mention my all-time favorite U.S. Coin, the Susan B. Anthony Dollar. First off, it appears to be a hendecagon (which is cool, though often confusing for coin-operated machinery) and what says goofy currency like having a suffragette on one side of the coin and a tribute to the moon landing on the other???

News of the World...

So is it just me or are people going crazy all of a sudden? First off, what's with Jet Blue? Personally, I'm not a fan of discount air carriers (not that I'm particularly a fan of any air carrier given my fear of flying) so I don't think there would ever come a time where I would be flying Jet Blue to any one of their fabulous destinations such as San Juan, Puerto Rico, Las Vegas or Orange County, but still they seem to be suffering from some sort of complete and total corporate breakdown. And, more importantly what is the deal with all of those passengers who were stranded in their planes (on the runway) at JFK during last week's ice storm?? I think this is indicitive of the latest problem in our country-- a lack of that pioneering American independent spirit.

Granted, to be fair, I wasn't on one of those planes so I have no real idea of what it was like, but I will tell you this, had I been on one of those planes I sure as hell wouldn't have been stranded on the runway for upwards of 8 plus hours. No, more likely I would have been escorted off of the plane in handcuffs well before then. Now maybe the allure of being told you may or may not still get to Cancun this century is enough to brainwash people into sitting in a cramped cabin awaiting word as to wheather the "weather is going to break" but not for me. Pull that sucker back up to the gate or inflate the damn inflatable ramps and get me off. Why didn't the passengers throw a collective fit and make the pilot, crew, etc. do something short of the 8 hour mark??? I recall a few years ago when I was stuck on an Amtrak train just outside of the station in Newark and while my calls to the local police and Amtrak police went unheeded, finally, when we were all suffering from undue heat I pulled the emergency exit lever and took out one of the windows. The conductor came over, fuming, saying "you can't do that, only in an emergency". Well, I'm sorry, last time I checked being stuck on a train for three hours with no ventilation seemed like an emergency to me. Exactly what is your definition of emergency if holding people captive on mass transit isn't it?

Given this history, had I been on one of those planes and in an exit row I so *totally* would have opened the door and pulled the lever on the inflatable ramp!

Next item: Ralph Fiennes bathroom encounter with a Quantas stewardess. I don't think I need to say much more than-- seemingly very uncharacteristic. Would that be indictive of very good service on Quantas' part or bad service? I'm not quite sure.

Next: Martha Stewart-- geesh that woman can be a real (well, fill in the blank here...) yesterday she had on as a guest a 10 year old boy who had climbed Mount Kilamanjaro. All Martha could do was talk about her own experience scaling the mountatin and how wonderful it was that it was snowing when she got to the top. She tells the boy-- "well, you're young, maybe you can go back..." When he starts to tell her about the climbs he has lined up for the rest of this year she actually says: "Well, I have it on good authority that that climb isn't very hard." Martha, he's 10. Why don't you give the kid a break, huh?

Finally: Britney Spears. All I can figure is that she is doing everything in her power to get the State of California to take those kids away from her. Either that or she's thinking about opening a Supercuts franchise.

Music and Lyrics...

Last night the Husband and I enjoyed a late night showing of Music and Lyrics. It was pretty harmless lightweight fare, but I will say, it took on a new level of depth given that on Friday we saw Rick Springfield in concert. There's a scene in the movie where Hugh Grant's character is performing at a Class of '87 high school reunion and the women in the audience are totally throwing themselves at him and I have to say, after having seen Rick's fans, it wasn't really an exaggeration by any stretch. Yes, to get full appreciation of a movie about a washed up '80's singer it's great to have been able to see one in person.

On another note, yesterday I watched An Inconvenient Truth. I'm still not quite sure what possessed me, other than that I've been in a documentary phase lately. They really shouldn't let politicians try and explain scientific concepts. That's all I have to say.

Goldfinger...

I'm in line at Cucina with the Husband and I remark that I am mesmerized by Eartha Kitt's rendition of The Girl From Ipanema playing on the stereo. The woman ahead of us in line looks at me and says, "I don't think that's Eartha Kitt. Shirley Bassey maybe." With this thought I am intrigued as indeed it could be Shirley Bassey and I hadn't even thought of Shirley. We're called to the next cashier and I ponder this point. Once we've paid we encounter the woman again at the napkin/utensil area and she says: "Eartha's voice isn't that good, do you know who Shirley Bassey is?" and I respond, "Of course, "Goldfinger"!" I then get back in response, "Very good, and you're so young!" I do have to say though, I think I was right the first time. A quick scan of Shirley's material on Amazon suggests that none of her currently available albums have The Girl from Ipanema, but Ms. Kitt, she's got one.

Scarlett Johansson

Babycenter informed me this morning that I am now 23 weeks pregnant. So far one of the physical upshots of pregnancy has been the mythical breast enlargement. Thinking back on that last sentence, I can say I believe this is the only physical upshot (aside from the whole "creating a person" thing)... because really the swelling feet, morning sickness, etc. just don't count for any fun. For those of you who know me, you well know that I didn't have much going on on top to begin with. To be fair, compared to other pregnant women the boob growth that I have experienced certainly pales in comparison but, overall I have been feeling like all of a sudden I've got Scarlett Johansson's boobs. Again, I know in reality this is just in my head because I'm sure Miss Scarlett's are still much larger than what I have now but compared to the A- cup size I had been sporting I feel like I've made significant progress. To paraphrase Jessica Simpson, clothes just fit better. I had actually started to feel boob when I put my arms at my side-- yes, my cups runneth over beyond my ribcage. Speaking of ribcages, my breasts now actually stick out beyond my ribs (sad state of affairs pre-pregnancy, I know, when your regular boobs compete with your ribcage for outward dimension)... Now, however, I am reaching the downward spiral where even if I have inherited Scarlett's boobs my stomach is quickly overshadowing anything on top.

Westminster!

Yesterday I had a fun filled day with Thisbe and the Wee Kraken! We started off with a ladies lunch at Saks (nothing like the half tuna sandwich-- on toast-- and cup of corn and crab chowder!) followed by a bit of Wee Kraken and Baby G clothing shopping and then we headed to MSG for the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show! We were able to hang out in the "benching area" and check out all the exciting dogs and then we actually got to walk out on the green carpet of the center ring! It was very fun and exciting and I think we have a yearly tradition in the making!

I did feel a bit of guilt, however. I think Miss Kitty could tell where I had been.

Docu-Drama...

This weekend, for some reason, I decided I was going to watch some new documentaries on pay-per-view. I'm not quite sure why I didn't just wait for these gems to appear on STARZ! but it could be partially attributed to the fact that the weekend before the Oscar nominees were announced Little Miss Sunshine was available on pay-per-view and I didn't get the chance to see it, and the minute it was named a Best Picture nominee it quickly was pulled from the line-up. I figured I'd get the documentaries while the getting was good. I watched Who Killed the Electric Car? on Saturday (and even dare I say, got the Husband sucked into it too...) and Word Play last night while I was making lemon chicken stir fry. I'm actually surprised that Who Killed the Electric Car didn't get an Oscar nomination-- it was actually quite intriguing and with Marty Sheen as narrator easy to listen to. Word Play on the other hand was a glorified PBS special. Interesting, kind of, but really just fluff. Mad Hot Ballroom (also on the fluffy side) was much more "inspirational" and enjoyable to watch than a bunch of cross-word puzzlers holed up at the Stamford Marriott. But, what do I know, I don't even do Sudoku puzzles.

Questions Couples Should Ask....

This morning I was cruising around the New York Times website and I found an article entitled "Questions Couples Should Ask (or Wish They Had) Before Marrying" Though I have recently passed the five year married mark, I thought, "hmm, this sounds intriguing" and figured I'd check it out. As to be expected the list included things such as how many children do you want, how will you raise your children vis-a-vis religion, who will do chores and are you a penny pincher or a spendthrift. The question, though, that I thought most silly (in comparison to the rest) was: "Will there be a television in the bedroom?" Apparently this is quite a sticking point for people. For me, it's not "will there be a television" but more, "how big will the tv be?"

I don't know about you but when I am at home sick in bed nothing says "sick day" more than a bowl of chicken and rice soup and watching Regis & Kelly or The View in bed. Not to mention what about those nights when the Husband is stuck at work and I should be asleep, but instead am waiting up for him and am immersed in bad television, like the time I actually elected to watch the Al Pacino classic "Author! Author! Or even last night. Sure, I may have fallen asleep on the couch in the family room while the Husband watched "Jet Li's Fearless" on pay-per-view, but the minute I headed upstairs to the bedroom I was suddenly refreshed and decided to see what was on TV. I found us two travel related shows, one more entertaining than the next: Francesco's Italy: Top to Toe and the old fave Globe Trekker (Indian Ocean Islands episode with Ian Wright as the host)... We then spent from 2am to 3am flipping back and forth between these shows. Francesco (visiting northern Italy) was just comical with his floppy mop of grey hair and bad Italian theme music and Ian's accent (very Jamie Oliver, but without the lisp) was entertaining in its own right, regardless of the locale. But, for purposes of couples bonding time, the best part came after the shows were over. On The Travel Channel, at 3am, we shifted to "Paid Programming" the first seven minutes of which was a pitch for The Bible on DVD, which went (seemingly without any segue) into an infomercial for an Evinrude 2 stroke outboard motor. I ask you, what says couple time more than watching bad infomercials at 3am? Things such as this just would not be possible if a TV wasn't in the bedroom!

Higher Education...

We've recently learned that our cat, Jules Verne Kitty Van Winkle, will be receiving a degree in 17th Century French Literature with a minor in Balls of String later this spring from Sarah Lawrence College. It appears that she has been taking correspondence course while we've been at work and this also would account for the rather large sums which seem to be disappearing via wire transfer from our bank account.

Voiceover...

Five days a week we take the number one train from 34th Street to midtown. Often when riding on the subway the loudspeaker announcements are completely unintelligible (even the recorded ones). However, every now and again we get to the platform just at the right time to ride on the train that not only has a working loudpseaker but also has a conductor/engineer with a voice made completely for late night jazz radio! He is my favorite loudspeaker voice... very calm, soothing-- almost makes riding the subway pleasant, but for the inability of the MTA to regulate temperature inside the cars properly, the unflattering lighting and of course, the other passengers.

"This is a Bronx Bound Number One Train, Next Stop 42nd Street, transferrrrr here for the A.....C.....E......N......R......W.....Number 7 train and the Shutttttle to Grand Central...." It's almost like a semi-Barry White purr. "Stand Clear of the Closing Doors" no longer sounds like a hasty threat.

This morning, however, we had to come in early which put us on a totally different schedule for the subway. However, I wasn't disappointed. While our voice this morning wasn't my soothing jazz radio host, instead it was someone clearly trying to break into show business.

Upon entering the train at 34th street we were all greeted with:

"You look good out there today, Manhattan!"

Geesh, flattery will get you everywhere-- one good look around the car I was in clearly meant he wasn't talking to us in particular.

Then as we approached 42nd we not only got the usual recitation of the various train lines which converge at this station but we also got directions, "Up stairs for the A,C,E" "Downstairs for the N,R,W, 7 and Shuttle" "Acrosssss the platform for the 2/3"

Next, between 42nd and 50th we were given the time and temperature and told to have a "Long, Warm, Friday." I guess he's a comedian too.

Nick & Jessica

Jessica Simpson has recently shared with Elle Magazine that a plane ride viewing of The Notebook helped seal the fate of her marriage to Nick Lachey. All I can say is poor Nick. Why would you come out and say that your divorce was inspired by a movie based on a Nicholas Sparks book? Please, tell me there was something more!

Hemlines.

I'm short. It's obvious. For a very long time growing up I would struggle when buying pants to find ones that actually were the appropriate length. For a good stretch the Gap carried ankle length jeans that worked, then I had to shift to Old Navy and finally, once I got out of college and law school I just broke down and recognized that a) yes, you can have jeans hemmed, despite what my mom used to tell me, and b) essentially every pair of non-jeans, non-capri pants I might ever want to buy will be manufactured for a giant, so I may as well just get over it and get everything shortened, professionally. "Professionally" in this context is a bit of a strong word because it rarely means actually having a real seamstress do the work (like the time I managed to snag a Burberry skirt at Syms and then took it to Burberry claimed it was a few seasons old and that I got it at the outlet and they took it down two whole sizes for me, shortened it and it only cost $10)... no usually it means taking your stuff to the dry cleaners and hoping for the best.

Now I ask you, why is it that whenever you take pants to get them shortened the person doing the shortening never wants to make them short enough? Even if they mark them short enough, when you come back and get them and try them on with the same pair of shoes they're always longer than you wanted. For a while I thought maybe it was just me, then I was at Banana with Dave one day and he was getting pants hemmed and the woman there gave him the same argument--- "wait until you wash them, they'll shrink." "Sit down and see how far they come up".... okay, fine but when I'm sitting I'll most likely be behind a desk or behind a table so I don't fricking care how short my pants are when I sit down, I want them to be the right length when I'm standing up! Who wants to have a pair of Burberry signature plaid pants with cuffs that drag on the ground?

Needless to say, on Saturday when I picked up my maternity jeans (the ones from the garbage bag incident discussed below) and my lined, wool Liz Lange pants (thank god these were ready since yesterday morning it was all of 9 degrees on the train platform) they were of course, both too long. Sure, I could take them back and ask them to be fixed, but that would be another week that would go by without having the pants to wear and I'm afraid at this stage, I don't have that week to spare.

Subway Etiquette

Item #1: To the blonde woman with the iPod nano who just had to get into the last car of the #1 subway train this morning at 34th street, when you see a woman of child bearing age standing inside the "closing doors" please refrain from hurling your body at full speed towards this person with the hope that you might be able to make yourself fit despite the bulging pool of humanity which is already shoved inside the car, as alas, said woman may actually be with child and she really doesn't need to get your hand/elbow/sherpa pack in her kidneys. Thank you.

Item #2: To the kind folks at the Metropolitan Transportation Authority-- why is it that now the bulk of the public service announcement signs on the subway dealing with preventing terrorism, etc. are solely in Spanish, yet the sign which indicates that carrying a loaded weapon on the subway will get you a minimum of 3 1/2 years in jail is only in English?

Weekend Movie Stupor....

Last night we found ourselves watching Roll Bounce (yes, the Lil' Bow Wow tour de force) and though we missed the first hour of the movie, I'd have to say it actually wasn't that bad and relatively entertaining, as entertaining as a "coming of age" story set in a 1970's roller disco can be. I didn't even know they still made moves about roller discos...

Pot Pieeeeee!

Last night we made pot pie and it worked out well!

I started with one box of chicken stock which I heated on medium and tossed in about 4 boneless chicken breasts, three large leeks (chopped-- white and light green parts only) and two large shallots, chopped. I separately boiled four good sized yukon gold potatoes (skins on, roughly diced) and a bunch of carrots-- also diced.

I added herbs de provence, basil, salt and black pepper to the chicken stock and simmered until the chicken was cooked through. Once the chicken was cooked I removed it from the broth and cut it up into good sized chunks. I put the chicken cubes back in the broth and drained the potatoes and carrots and put them in the broth as well. I then added whole baby onions and frozen sweet baby peas to the broth and continued to simmer. I added some cream and a good bit of corn starch to thicken the mixture.

Separately, I used pillsbury pre-made pie dough to line the bottom of an emile henry bowl... once I was happy with the consistency of the broth, chicken and vegetable mixture, I filled up the bowls. I then used another piece of pre-made pie dough to cover the top of the pot-pie, making a few slices in the top for venting and then putting an egg wash on the outside.

I baked the pot pies on 400 for about 15-20 minutes or until the pie crust was golden brown a bit puffy and the insides were bubbling.

My favorite part were the baby onions! We downed these while watching an episode of Black Adder (which, while Hugh Laurie was entertaining, just will never be one of my favorite "britcoms"...) All in all, though, a good dinner, especially on a chilly winter night! :)

Next time, I would maybe add some white wine to the broth... we just didn't have any handy...

Misinformation...

This morning I received two emails. One was from a contractor giving a quote for a remodel of the soon-to-be nursery (and by remodel I mean take down the existing drywall and replace it with new drywall-- not a difficult task by any means but one which in my current condition I can't be of much assistance with and fairly I think it is a two man job...) the estimate clocked in at just over $10,000.

Next was an email from Tiffany's with the subject heading: "Give Tiffany's Diamonds for Valentine's Day".

Clearly someone thinks I'm making *way* more than I actually do.