1. He will only ridicule me for a short time when he finds the Sara Lee Pound Cake (family sized) in the refridgerator that I bought today and that is almost half gone.

2. He didn't ridicule me at all yesterday, and in fact wholeheartedly joined in when I decided that I absolutely had to have KFC, and no amount of other food would assuage my craving. We had two #3 meals with extra mashed potato and gravy, no cole slaw, please. We were made for each other.

3. He didn't ridicule me in KFC, when a very black man with all black on entered, looked around several times, went straight to the men's room, and then left, leaving me to conclude that he was a part of some paramilitary group who had just planted a bomb in the KFC bathroom (yes, the one in Hadley, MA, it's very significant, I'm sure). I have a baby to protect here, people, one can't be too careful. And before I get a bunch of hate mail, it wasn't because he was black. Any person with these clothes on would have been suspicious, and he had that Angry Black Man look about him. I was not afraid of the nice black girl behind the counter, nor was I suspicious of the nice black family eating their dinner in the restaurant, nor am I afraid of the kids that hang out at the bus stop down the street, or the 14 year old kids who kick my husband's ass at basketball on the local playground. And sure, I felt stupid when he got into his car with his wife and child, but I'm telling you, anyone who had watched one too many James Bond movies would have pegged him as a terrorist, too.

My Brother is allegedly coming back from Iraq for "emergency family leave". One would think that this would make me happy, but to be honest it does not, entirely. How to explain this without sounding like a total heartless bitch? Well, perhaps I can't, but here's the situation: My brother has weaseled out of every last responsibility he has ever come close to. He never finished high school, in fact never really made it much past 9th grade, even though he had every reason to, and in fact had several teachers and counselors bending over backwards in order to make this high school thing work for him. It certainly helped that he was a great hockey goalie, and the hockey coach is a family friend. Still, my brother found a way to let down the entire team by failing to maintain a C average--in largely Special Ed classes and with private school sponsored tutors, no less--and he eventually dropped out entirely, after exhausting the system. Please understand that my brother is in no way developmentally disabled; he was put in the SpEd classes because he kept failing out of the regular classes, and in fact rarely went to school at all. But, no flies on him. He left high school in a wake of other people's broken dreams, whistling a happy tune.

After high school came a sucession of jobs, none lasting more than 3 weeks. One fired him because he opted to go to Lake Ossipee with friends rather than show up to his first week after training, of course without calling. These people were jerks, and how do they all expect him to actually show up, *on time*, each day? My brother feels this is an unreasonable request.

He has convinced people to front him money, goods, and services, and then is shocked, SHOCKED, when they ask him to actually pay up. And the thing is, it *never* reflects on him. It just rolls of his back. It's amazing. He should be studied.

All his girlfriends have been adorable, smart, and devoted to him. My brother is incredibly charming. He will string them along, sometimes for years, and only one has ever broken his heart. His current girl is very cool, the one he has the baby with. Yes, it's true, someone did manage to extract some kind of consequence to my brother's actions. But even that was handled with typical J. flair and mystery. For some unfathomable reason, he neglected to tell any of us that his girlfriend was pregnant, instead opting to present my unsuspecting mother with a 3 month old baby. Again, he doesn't find this odd behavior at all, and is very disdainful of anyone who would suggest that it could have been handled differently. Oh wait, but of course he told the girl that he had told my mother already. Naturally.

During all or at least some of this, my brother joins the National Guard. He uses my uncle's connections to get in and get a great bonus out of it. It then takes him 7 months to complete basic training, because he, too late, realizes that the military is not something you can weasel out of. Once out of basic, he proceeds to show up late for his one weekend a month, occasionally not showing up at all. How does he do this without being thrown in jail? He's magic. Please note that my uncle has vouched for him and is now put in quite a spot. Does my brother care? Apparently not, because he eventually is not in the National Guard anymore, under ill-explained circumstances. But that's okay, because he becomes a DJ, conveniently located in Manhattan and Providence, RI, where nobody we know hangs out. He purchases an $80 wine bottle opener for my mother for Xmas, as I hand out homemade cookies and scraps from my studio classes.

So now, here he is, under more mysterious circumstances, enlisted in the National Guard again. We don't even ask, but it seems that he does actually go to the one weekend a month this time. One day, our complete dickhead of a president decides a draft for his little war would prove too unpopular, so he sends in the National Guard, surely never seeing the irony that he joined the same program so he himself wouldn't have to go to war. Anyway, here is my brother, and while no one wants to see him harmed, we rejoice just a little because, now, finally, is a real consequence to his actions that he really can't avoid. There's no way, right? They won't let you leave the army in the middle of war. BUT...

He left for Iraq in March, he's been back on leave already in May. Here it is, August, and he's back again, possibly for good. His girl is trying to get the Red Cross to let him stay, as her mother is very ill, and she is actually having a procedure herself, though it's not life threatening.

How do I explain to this girl that making my brother follow through on a commitment he made will be the best thing for him, and for her and the baby? My brother needs something to be proud of, and he hasn't done much in his life that he can be proud of. My niece is the cutest thing this side of Cutetown, but I'm not sure that counts in his case. Maybe someday it will.I am conflicted.

1. We are having French Toast and sausages for dinner.

2. I am on Lesson 6 (transforming objects) in my Illustrator Classroom in a Book.

3. We had our first prenatal class last night, and in addition to almost making me cry several times with the realization of the imminent baby-having, may also have resulted in a mommy-friendship with actual other people that live nearby. Extra bonus: I haven't had lesbian (or gay for that matter) friends in a while, so that will be refreshing.

4. I have the hands-down best husband in the world. He's just swell in so many ways, and I am super lucky. All those other Slim Shadys *are* just imitating.

5. We are getting massages this weekend. Oh I am so excited.

There is a squeal-inducingly frightening hornet's nest in the alleyway that we walk through each day to get to downtown. This fucker is enormous, and creepy as they come. You get the feeling that if you took a baseball bat to it (and in a morbid way, you really, really want to do this) that one of two things would happen. You would either be consumed rapidly yet painfully by a massive swarm of hornets, biblical in proportion; your last terrified words would be, "oh my god they're EVERYWHERE", or it would break open to reveal a gargantuan, slimy abberation of nature that would inexorably come to dissolve your innards with its acidy spit. Since my innards currently contain a whole other person, I just can't take either one of those risks. But if you would like to come and videotape yourself hammering at the thing (seriously, it's bigger than my head. It's gross.) please leave me a note.

On a different note, one not inspired by too many Creature Double Feature viewings as a child (I can't believe I found that link!), there is a news story around here that I find interesting, and since it's my blog I'm going to talk about it. It seems that a lesbian couple decided to have a baby together, but before the baby was born, said couple split up. see article here The mom wanted child support, but the court ruled that the other woman had no legal obligation. I feel for the mom, and it sucks that she has to raise this kid alone with no help (I don't know what I would do without my man, he rules, and not just in a money-raisin' kind of way). However, since gay people are not allowed equal rights under the law, it seems unfair to then impose similar law upon them. You can't make the argument, "well, if she were a man..." because if she were a man she would have other protections and rights that she doesn't have as a gay woman. So I'm on the fence, really, and not in that bi way. As much as I am all for parent's rights and the best interest of the children, I am also way into justice and fairness. I think the court made a tough but fair decision. What do you think?

If you run over to Dooce you will see that she is not only funny and entertaining and sometimes makes me cry, but she is also a super hottie. Damn, girl, you fine.

HH and I are trying to find ways to make the phrase, "True dat, boo" more common in our daily life.

I found my Republicans for Voldemort t shirt last night in a frenzy of nesting. It doesn't quite fit over my big belly anymore, but I am wearing it anyway because I love it so.

Yesterday I almost passed out, seemingly for no real reason. My doctor said not to worry about it unless it happens frequently. Being pg is weird.

I in no way want to pay the cable company any more money, but I really miss the Daily Show. I love you, Jon Stewart!

People who need to be spanked:

--The self righteous girls in the Jetta with the environmental and activist bumperstickers who tossed trash out their window not once but FIVE TIMES while we were driving behind them. Who the hell litters anymore? What is this, 1970? Are those straw wrappers so cumbersome that you just couldn't keep them in the car with you until you got to a trash can?

--People who think Saddam had anything to do with the WTC. Nobody likes him or anything, but he had nothing to do with 9/11. Deal with it.

--People who get all foamy at the mouth when jobs are sent overseas, yet shop at WalMart. How do you think those prices got so low, jackass? All the manufacturing companies are technically in the US, but all the work comes from Pakistan. But don't worry, all the laid off factory workers can now go work as a cashier at WalMart for $8/hour with no benefits!

--Bob Costas, because he is annoying.

--HH, because it would be cute!

On a final note, did you see those two beach volleyball girls rolling around in the sand together after winning the Gold? HH really liked that. Can you blame him?

Our guests have left, we have three whole weekends stretching out before us with no particular plans...ahhh. Of course, my nesting instinct is really kicking in to high gear and HH may spend the next few weekends wrestling expensive and unnecessary baby furniture out of my hot sweaty hands. My shower isn't until the 18th of Sept. and it's driving me insane. Then of course are the frequent panic attacks about the fact that there will be a baby in the house for the next 18 years or so, and she's going to want me to take care of her and all. My biggest fear, really, is that I will become so exhausted that I will lose what little fashion sense I have, get a mom haircut and start wearing elastic waist pants and sensible shoes. If you ever see a tiny flower pattern on my shirt, or god forbid any appliques, please rush me to the nearest art school and lock me in until the paint fumes renew my aesthetic principles.

We did do some learnin' this weekend though. Chris and Ayaka taught us useful Japanese phrases such as:

"ketsu kuse" ("your butt stinks") and

"cho debu, desho?" ("he/she is a huge fatass, don't you agree?")