Yeah, okay, that didn't work. The well meaning advice of Complete Strangers urging me to have sex with my husband didn't work either (have you seen the size of my belly and its relativity to the sexin' up parts? Sex is not so sexy when you have to work this hard at it). We go tomorrow to have the non stress test, though I can tell them right now she's fine. Fine enough to jam her feet under my rib cage all last night is fine enough to withstand the rigors of birth. Girlfriend has a deadline: If I don't go in to labor by Saturday, the weekend will be filled with buffalo wings, chinese food, balsamic vinegar, long walks and nookie til we drop. You may not want to visit this weekend; it could get ugly.

Okay, what's up besides the baby? Well, I am sick of hearing about how the Other Side is filled with a bunch of a. Baby-eating Warmongers, or b. America-hating hippies. I know who I am voting for, and you won't be able to change my mind, so I feel like I should be exempt from all this. No one is saying anything new, so I don't think I need to listen anymore. And I don't even live in a swing state, I can't imagine the horror of living in PA or, god forbid, Florida. I would have to walk around with a blindfold and earplugs til November to avoid going nuts and stabbing random people in the eye.

Right now I have Mtv on, because I feel like I don't know what the kids are up to these days. We live in a valley, so we don't get many radio stations in the house, and I have very little patience for top 40, or even top 100. I can do hip hop for approximately one song before my head aches from the bleeping out swear words noise, and/or from the repetition of how very, very cool the rapper happens to think he is. The "rock" stations are run by 35 year old angry teens, and the less said about adult contemporary the better. So I am out of touch a bit, and every once in a while Saturday Night Live has a musical guest that I have never even heard of, and that frightens me. Is this how it happens? Is this how one becomes the goober parent blaring Cyndi Lauper and saying, "Now this, kids, is MUSIC!", while the children cringe in the back seat and vow never to become me? Oh please, please not that. I need a couple of 12 year olds to come over and tutor me. Any volunteers?

Bleurgh. No baby yet. Or more to the point, lots and lots of baby, mostly being very heavy on the spine and ligaments. Lots of baby making it difficult for mommy to sleep or move or be at all comfortable.

It doesn't even feel like she's coming at all, except for the heavyness. Last weekend I was Braxton-Hicks-ing all over the place, but the past 4-5 days have been pretty uneventful. Everyone tells me that labor happens when you least expect it, and everyone has stories about how, the one day they said that they thought the baby wasn't coming, of course, ha ha, they went right into labor. Well, that technique doesn't seem to be working for me, so here, on the internet, I am declaring that today is not the day I will have a baby! Let's see if that works.

Happy Ramadan, everybody. Let's hope this year there is not so much with the killing and maiming.

Does anyone else see how bizzare it is that different religions hate each other so much, especially when all the so called "holy sites" in the middle east are shared by each religion? Instead of everybody saying: "Hey, you think this site is holy? Well, I'll be damned, me too!" they seem to decide to kill the other person instead. I really like the movie "Office Space", and I even proselytize about it--"must...watch..."Office Space"... But if there are people out there who like the movie for different reasons-perhaps, inexplicably, Milton and the Bobs are not their favorite characters-I don't actually want to kill them. I am simply pleased that we both like the same movie. I don't even want to kill people who don't like the movie at all. That's how openminded I am.

I am late, as of today. It was much more fun being late 9 months ago. Except for the throwing up, I didn't enjoy so much the throwing up. However, today I don't like so much the bigness, and the waiting, and the eXtreeeme uncomfortableness. Must...have...baby...

I have had a great pregnancy. No highly unusual skin pigmentation changes, no real stretch marks to speak of, no pre-eclampsia or gestational diabetes. I haven't been ill since Week 14...Until Now! Today, the zero hour, or, as the Pregnancy Calendar says: Day Number 280 40 weeks (gestational age: 266 days / 38 weeks) 0 days remaining, I wake up to a seriously stuffy nose and scratchy throat. Actually, it started yesterday, and I ran to CVS to get Vitamin C drops (the pharmacist said no zinc or echinacea). I have been chugging orange juice and washing my hands feverishly, but to no avail. I may call the doctor to see if I can take anything stronger, because This Cannot Be. I was up at 12:30 last night, and then again around 3:30, and up for good at 6:45. Which would be fine and normal if the baby was here and needed things from me, but she is not. She is tucked away with her placenta, which is my surrogate at the moment, and HH hypothesized that she has ordered furniture and is setting up permanent residence.

Okay, I am listening to Tony Blair defending himself to Parliament, and I have to say I absolutely love the noise from the other members whenever anyone says anything of import. "I did not lie," says Tony, and groans and blusters ensue. I think we need to do that. I would love to hear Ted Kennedy boo Dick Cheney--how great would that be? Cheney would likely swear on tv a lot more. Not to mention perhaps GW and crew would realize that there are people out there besides John Kerry who disagree with them.

Since I am too large to do anything productive anymore, I have deemed it perfectly acceptable to watch old movies during the day, making my "lunch break" last around 3 hours. This does not affect "naptime" in the slightest, but it may overlap and cut short the "housework" and/or "learning Illustrator or html" portion of my day. However, I am not being completely unproductive during these hours. Yesterday I heard a great story about Cary Grant from (I think) George C. Scott, during the Transition Phase between films. He says that he was a new actor in town, I guess in the 60s or 70s, and somehow befriended Cary Grant, who was retired. A woman stops them on the street and asks for George's autograph. As he is complying, she turns to Cary and, completely oblivious to Mr. Grant's superstar status, says, "This is so exciting, you never see celebrities around here anymore, do you?" Cary simply replies, "No you don't". Ha ha! That's great!

I swear to you that I am truly grateful to be having a baby. So many people want them and can't have them, and I really am thrilled, I have wanted to do this for a while now. So honestly, the opportunity cost of pregnancy is totally worth the sweet tiny baby that will eventually choose my nursing home. Having said that, if I don't have this baby soon I will start to throw things. I can't sleep because my hips are killing me-they are lugging around much too many pounds and have been for too long. In addition to the hip pain is the heartburn, which makes me sleep propped up, which eventually hurts my upper back. Then, during the awake hours, I grunt around like a 90 year old woman. I can't move quickly, and as bored as I get sitting on the couch it's not usually worth it to go through the ordeal of moving into a standing position. I have this super cutie husband that I can just stare at from afar; there will be no impassioned leaping-upon for me. My body is just surreal looking; I look pregnant in clothing but naked I look like nothing they have ever made a metaphor for. And mostly, I feel guilty for being so sleepy, and having the luxury of being able to go back to bed. Which I will do momentarily. good night.

The doctor says there has been no progress. I had to make an appointment for next Wednesday for a non stress test. If I am still pregnant a week from tomorrow I will be forced to freak right out. I want my baby and I want her now! I also want to be able to move like a normal person again, and the sooner the mini empress is in her crib and not my abdomen the sooner that can happen.

In related news, HH got all hysterical last night because he said I didn't have an abdomen anymore, I had a "tubdomen". He then went on to say that *really* fat people have "blubdomens". He also mentioned that he was descended from royalty because he's always "tuten-often" (sound it out, you'll get it). I think the strain of being a sole provider is starting to take it's toll.

1. Our microwave abruptly and without warning bit the dust. I put in a plastic measuring cup with 1/2 cup of butter for melting, and 1.2 seconds later was treated to a light and sound show, a mini "Lazer Floyd". I searched and searched for signs of metal somewhere, but no. The plastic nor the butter was actually metal, and there were no stray forks in the microwave. A brief consultation and demo with HH confirmed the worst: Senor Microwave is no more. We unplugged it so we wouldn't use it by accident before we could throw it away. My mom has an extra, so when she comes down for the baby birth she will bring hers. In the meantime we have to heat our coffee up on the stove, like cavemen.

2. Speaking of getting free things from family members, my grandmother (the crazy one) called and asked if we wanted her neighbor's old dining room set. She described it as "very nice", with "four leather chairs" (My mother later described it as "not so much leather as vinyl"). However, she needed us to come and get it before the 20th, and therefore I politely declined, and thanked her for thinking of us. My grandmother, naturally, was furious. I explained that we would not likely be driving the 2 hours up to her house any time soon. She asked, in a voice that clearly wanted an explanation of my extreme laziness, why on earth not. *sigh* I had to explain that I was 40 weeks pregnant and not about to go driving around too far from the hospital just to lug some crappy used furniture around. Evidently this was only slightly satisfactory, but I think we are still in the will.

3. Other than that, our long weekend was quite enjoyable, if mostly uneventful. As I mentioned previously, due to a minor accounting error, we were pretty broke and unable to do much in the way of spending money, even for going out to eat. We did manage to scrape together the cash to have coffee; unfortunately we decided to mix it up and go to a different coffee shop, not our usual coffee shop. It was unfortunate because the coffee tasted like ashes, since they roast their own and the proprietors were hippies, hippies with no taste buds. However, we didn't need cash to be entertained, as this is New England, and it is October. We drove around and took pictures of bright orange and red trees, went to quaint little farms to ogle their pumpkins and apples (naughty!), and basically had a wholesome New England fall day. 'Twas lovely. Then we went home and I decided that we would have the baby, so we ate buffalo wings and did other things that are supposed to bring on labor (ahem), but to no avail. I read an anecdote about a woman who went into labor at 42 weeks while watching "Raging Bull", and when her second pregnancy went late, they jokingly rented it again, and again her labor started during the movie! If I am still knocked up next week, I am so renting that movie. Just in case.

Day Number 278 39 weeks (gestational age: 264 days / 37 weeks) 2 days remaining

I am pretty ready for this baby to get here. The complaining and not being able to move or breathe is officially old. In addition, today is 10/11, and HH's birthday is 11/10, so that would be cool. They could match.

I am usually excited about the baby getting here, but there are definate moments of panic as well. Not only about the actual birth part, which is sort of surreal, but also the "holy frijoles now I am definately an adult, and this baby isn't going to be the kind that goes home after a while" realization. I think it is a survival plan that a woman is so uncomfortable by the end of pregnancy that the freak outs only last a short while. If this amount of uncomfortable was only able to be ended by the ritual removal of a limb I think the effect would be the same.

...They just announced that Christopher Reeve died. I am sad, I really thought he was great. I really wanted him to be able to walk again; he seemed so determined, and I love it when people are diagnosed as terminal or incurable and then they are cured. Well, rats.

I am taking heart from this quote from an article in Salon:

"On the way back to headquarters, Pat says that he has spent more time registering students and 18- to 25-year-olds than any other group. He's been averaging 1,000 a week. And he points out that because most students only have cellphones they are below the radar of the pollsters. There could be a million, who knows, perhaps millions of students who may be the true deciding votes of this election -- and we won't know it until Election Day. I feel a little surge of optimism."

That is a great point. Kerry came out of nowhere in the primaries, don't forget. We all thought it would be Dean or even Edwards, but Kerry won, if not in a landslide, at least with enough momentum to get the nomination. The polls are dead even, so if there is any group out there that has not been polled, it could tip the election easily. I myself only have a cell, and I have not been polled. Have you?

It's entirely possible that I have been subject to a bait and switch with my TiVo, and I got to yell at someone via email today about it; what fun for first thing in the morning. They are telling me that I am not eligible for the $50 rebate but I can get a free DVD player. Since I already have a DVD player that is likely much better than some crappy free one, and I do not have $50, I am not happy. I am also not happy as I am likely just politely yelling at some sap in India. Sigh.

I didn't sleep well last night, which means HH didn't sleep well, as it is difficult for me to roll over without lots of grunting and rustling and jostling. It is to his credit that he hasn't kicked me out of bed altogether, although when I do give it up and go sleep on the couch he doesn't seem to notice, likely because of the deep sleep he immediately falls into once I am out of the room.

Wouldn't it be great if politicians, and people who talk about politics, would just state actual facts without putting any kind of spin on them? (how do they look at themselves in the mirror? Does it make them feel guilty at all, or do you think that they believe they are lying for a "greater good"?) Wouldn't you just love to hear actual reality, instead of bits and pieces? I think that would be fantastic. It's really irritating to hear someone state a "fact", which is technically true but not really once you relate it to other facts. What if a restaurant advertised that 100 people have had their sushi and not one of them got sick, without mentioning that over 1,000 people have had their sushi and died soon after? Technically it is true that those 100 people had sushi and lived to tell the tale. It's not a lie, right? This is how I feel when I hear a lot of people talk-I know about the 1,000 people, but I only hear on the news about the 100. It's just irritating, especially because I know lots of people are just swallowing the sushi half-story without listening to an alternative viewpoint. This is what I get for listening to both sides, I suppose. Damn you NPR!

Have I told you about the weird Las Vegas dreams I keep having? I can't remember, so I will sum up:

I keep having weird dreams that center around Las Vegas, especially either leaving or arriving in Las Vegas by plane. Lots of other, varied things happen in these dreams, the only common thread is the town itself. So last night I had another one, this time we were going to go to Las Vegas, and I suddenly realize that I am 9 months pregnant and maybe now is not the greatest time to go. But, we already have tickets, so what the heck, maybe I won't deliver until we get back. And then, This is Where it Gets Weird, I have this whole inner monologue about how maybe this is the reason I have so many Las Vegas dreams, it's because I will give birth there and I was just prophesying this strange situation in which I go to Las Vegas while pregnant. Do you see the layers of self-referentialism??? Dreams not only referencing other, past dreams but reality as well? My conclusion is that there is an extra fold somewhere in my brain that makes me be weird, but mostly just in my head. I should be studied.

Why am I grumpy today? Well, I'll tell you. One reason is that it is our anniversary tomorrow, but what with a few extras we had to pay cash money for, and a slight accounting error on my part, we have approximately $30 in the bank until next Thursday. So no yummy foodstuffs for the T-Dog crew tomorrow night. Boo hoo hoo.

Another reason is that it is frikin' freezing in here. It is currently 55 degrees and I could see my breath this morning when I went out to get groceries. I had to get groceries first thing because we didn't have enough ingredients to have breakfast-no milk for coffee or tea or cereal. Then, when I came home I closed the door on the gallon of milk, which promptly went all over the driveway. My hips hurt and my belly is stretched to capacity, and I am torn between wanting the baby to come Right Now and wanting to wait until the 23rd so that she can be a Scorpio like HH and I. Also: Must. Sleep. Always.

Despite our temporarily destitute situation, I am tempted to simply throw away all the leftovers in the fridge rather than clean out the old-food messiness. Pyrex bowls aren't so very expensive.

My guilt complex is compelling me to finish errands and cleaning before I crawl under the blankets and sleep until HH gets home, or at the very least finish Gone With The Wind. Rhett and Scarlett just got married after Mr. Kennedy was killed in a KKK raid. Very exciting. More tomorrow, unless there is a baby on the way. Then, more later.

Mexican Mochas: Today I made a mexican mocha with my coffee instead of the usual dumping of some Ovaltine into very milky coffee. I don't know why the cinnamon makes it specifically "mexican", but that's what they called it at Rosemary's, and that's what I call it. I also call it mm-mm tasty.

Peanut Butter Toast: When you are making peanut butter toast, which I do almost every morning, you have to be sure to get the peanut butter on the warm toast immediately. That way, the toast melts the peanut butter a little, and the sprinkled sugar sinks into the peanut butter puddle just a bit, making the entire toast experience very satisfying.

How Great HH is: He just gets more awesome every day, except on the days he's cranky, then he stays at his normal amount of awesome. But lately he has been so cute, and he hugs my gi-normous belly and says hi to the baby, and it's just adorable, and I just want to burst at his fantastic-ness. It seems like he is starting to get excited about her, which is good because she will be here any moment now. Not that he wasn't excited before, but I guess she seems more real now that I am big enough to be two people, and the house is full of baby stuff. For all his outward grumpiness, he is just the sweetest thing on two feet. I am so lucky. Some days I feel bad, because clearly the two best people got together and had a baby, and so that leaves all the rest of the people in the world to date and marry people who, while possibly good, aren't the absolute best. However, I tried dating a few of you other people out there, and we all know how *that* turned out. Either I dumped you and felt really guilty, or you dumped me when I wasn't done with you yet, or you became a drug addict and got arrested a lot. From what I understand a similar story was played out with HH, so really, you can't blame us for deciding to shack up together. You will just have to gaze upon our multiplied fantastic-icity and do your best to emulate.

Let's see, what can I say that today doesn't involve me complaining? Not much, I'm afraid, but I'll give it a shot. The overriding goal here at TraciTown is to keep ahead of the housework in the event that I go into labor and don't feel like doing 12 loads of laundry while I wait to go to the hospital. This is not as easy as it sounds, and it doesn't sound easy. Also, we have our anniversary coming up on Thursday (I am hugely pregnant, so I want to tell the waitress at the restaurant that it's our 6 month anniversary, because that would be funny! I am a hoot!) and I am trying not to spend all our cash so we can go to dinner. So this is a week of self-control, unless of course the doctor that I am to see today tells me that I am super dilated and must go to the hospital toot-sweet. Then it is a week of mild panic and contractions and bodily fluids.

My main issue for today, besides laundry, is that I am feeling increasingly useless, and I know that my relative uselessness will only increase in the coming weeks. It is difficult to unload the dishwasher, or reach for things, especially things below my breastbone. It is also not so easy to stay in an upright and conscious position. It is so hilarious that people tell you to get sleep now because we won't sleep with the baby. Like I can sleep. As if I don't wake up every 2-3 hours anyway, having to pee or god forbid roll over and/or switch positions at all, or, the most fun, because my esophagus is being melted by acid. This is fun as well for HH, because despite my best intentions, I wake him up with every move.

We have been searching for a middle name for the Tiny One, and I have been scouring the inter-web for something suitable. I was unaware of the many names that have really inappropriate meanings, the most common being "bitter", spiraling down to "dark child" and "unattractive". What the?!

kay kids, that's all for now. I still have a couple of weeks, but if you suddenly don't hear from me, I am knee deep in baby, but still thinking longingly about you.