My Hero

Best. Christmas. Ever.

Dance Dance Revolution is being opened tomorrow.

Holiday Dispirit

The Christmas cards are rolling in and every time I rip open an envelope, I am racked with guilt about my lack of Christmas-carding this year.

I just couldn't do it. We couldn't do it. I mean, we barely put up a tree. Couldn't even FIND the menorah.

Normally, we send out a photo card with our cheerful faces smiling out from whatever desert location we happen to be living in that year. But this year, we just couldn't get it together long enough to find a time when we were both A) together, B) looking good enough to take a photo (i.e. no pregnancy fat face) and C) had someone available to take the photo.

Last weekend, we briefly pondered sending regular cards out with a nice message for all our family and friends. And then, I thought logically that we would be sending out dozens of birth announcements in about a month's time (eek!).

So my apologies to everyone out there. You ain't getting a Christmas card from Nuevo Mexico this year. But do keep your eyes peeled for a birth announcement in the next 3-5 weeks. Much like the Virgin Mary, I am great with child and very tired.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Standing in line at the Grove for a refill for my iced tea, this little boy (probably about 4 years old) comes up to me and asked, "Do you have a baby in your belly?"

He seemed a bit too young to know about babies in bellies, but I just smiled and replied, "Yes."

His father, who was standing in front of me, turned around to look at me and said, "Thank God!"

27

I am so blessed.

This month has been long. The Resident has either been out of town or working a busy schedule. We've had a few house disasters, including a poo-filled front yard. I've traveled coast to coast, which while fun, is exhausting when 7 months pregnant. A close friend of mine has had devestating news yet again and my heart aches beyond words for her. And my beloved cat Zola is dying.

The Resident was on-call today, my birthday, of all days. I fully expected to sit at home alone like I do most weekends when he works on-call. I envisioned watching bad television on abc.com (hello, October Road) and crying about my cat.

Instead, my reality was quite different. A good friend of mine from work drove down from Santa Fe to have birthday lunch with me. I met with my group of beloved writers for an afternoon of just being together, celebrating another year's novel complete. And this evening, another few friends stopped by so I would not be alone on my birthday.

My phone rang all afternoon, birthday wishes pouring in from around the country. Emails, e-cards, IMs and flowers.

I am about to embark on the most life-changing events within the human experience. I am both terrified and elated at this journey, but I know that I am fortunate to be surrounded by friends who love and support me.

I am so thankful for you, my friends. I truly hope that I give back as much as I feel I take. I only hope I can be half the friend you have been to me.

Thank you.

The Name Game

It's recently come to my full attention that having a baby means having to name the baby. Yes, this is an obvious realization, but at the same time, the deeper meaning behind baby naming is often overlooked.

(For example, the name "Destiny" is the number 4 name for New Mexico. It should come as no surprise that a full 1/2 of births in this state are to single mothers under 20.)

I'm not just naming a baby. I'm naming a person. I'm actually starting a new person off in life. Another potential 80 years seen on this earth. A new birthday for ever and ever. And a new name. In an instant, everything begins.

So naturally, instead of our list of potential names getting shorter, they keep getting longer. Prior to getting pregnant, I had two names for each gender picked out and ready to go--first and middle for both. I was certain what I wanted. And suddenly, I have no idea. The universe has opened up and I have this one opportunity to make a mark. Everything and anything is a potential name. I'm listening for undertones and subtleties, for words that roll off and sound good together. Names that convey power, but also sound classic.

The one thing I do know?
It has to sound good in the Name Game.

News-Wordy Events

Tonight the headlines for the ABQ news: "Drunk woman wearing only underwear struck by semi on highway."

Why did they need to announce she was wearing only underwear? Does that strike anyone else as odd? Of course, this is coming from the news channel that interviewed a man over memorial day who said (when asked about his weekend plans), "Well, I cain't afford another DUI, so I'll probably booze it up close to home."

In other wordsmith news, this Sunday was my writing competition awards luncheon. A few weeks ago, I was notified that my submission was a "winner" in my entry category and either placed 1st, 2nd or 3rd.

Your's Truly here won first place!

Honest to god, I was shocked. I was surprised my entry even won anything to say the least, much less first place.

So now I have reason to actually write the damn ending.

Stay tuned!

Lobster Tails

I had my first pregnancy breakdown this weekend.

We decided to go out to dinner and of all places, Red Lobster sounded tasty. So we headed over for the requisite 20 minute wait. The only seat available was right next to the lobster tank.

Mistake number one.

I took the seat and watched the lobsters crawl around on each other; I started thinking about the spiny lobsters we saw on our honeymoon while SCUBA diving. And the realization struck me, all of these lobsters were going to end up on someone's plate for dinner, probably sooner rather than later.

And the tears started. Not quiet tears, but great sobbing gulps of sorrow over the lobsters.

We actually had to leave the restaurant because I could not stop crying. Deep inside, I knew I was being ridiculous, but I literally could not stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks.

So we had vegetarian noodles for dinner.

And now, I'm feeling rather strange when I contemplate eating meat--odd from someone who's killed a chicken themselves.

Think about it. Plants practically BEG to be eaten--"spread my seed, diseminate my genes." They tempt you with luscious fruit dangling, ripe for the picking.

But animals? Animals, all animals, will run away if they can when you try to kill them.

My Mom was Right! I'm a WINNER!

Back a few months ago, I submitted the first few chapters of my novel, The Mikvah, to a writing contest. My whole writing group was doing it and so I jumped off the bridge, too--with only thoughts of drowning in my mind.

I got a letter today in the mail today, advising me that I placed in the contest in the category that I entered! I'm in shock. I seriously thought I had a bat's chance in hell of winning anything ever again in my life, but apparently, I did! I don't know what place I won, but I will find out at the winner's luncheon.

Wow!

The Countdown Goes Public

Jan 22, 2008. Here we come.

16 weeks down, 24 to go.

HP7

Excellent.

That's all I have to say.

Excellent.

Paralyzing Decision

I am so excited. Like 90% of the world's population, I've been looking forward to this event the second after I read the last word of "Harry Potter and the Sorcer's Stone."

But I am also incredibly stupid. Until Tuesday, I thought the release of HP7 was on the July 27, not the 21. Consequently, I have not reread any of the books. I recently got a hookup with a rep at Simon and Schuster (New Mexico: Land of Who You Know); said hook-up mails me any book they publish as part of her job as "Publish Rep." When I discovered I was mistake about the HP7 release date, I was in the middle of another historical fiction involving the last of Henry the VIII's wives.

I was torn. Reread the Best.Books.Ever or continue reading a compelling saga of the English courts circa 1540? I chose the book I was already consuming.

Now I'm panicking that my HP7 will arrive tomorrow before 7 pm and I will have questions and confusion about RAB and Horcruxes. How far back do I go? Start with HP1 or can I just reread the most recently published?

5K Results

The culminating experience of my brief running career was an interesting experience to say the least. I wish I had a few photos of me gasping and sweating--I think only a visual could truly do the run justice. I also wish I could say it had been a glorious experience. Alas, it was not.

I ran about 2/3 of the race and walked the rest, which I actually expected since I've not regularly trained for about two months.

What I didn't expect was to almost be beat by a seven-year old. Yes. Seven.

She and her mother started out in front of me and at the half-way point, I jogged ahead of them. I stopped to walk, and I swear to god, the little girl SKIPPED in front of me. It went back and forth between us for about ten minutes and finally, as we neared the finish line, I realized I had to shake that little girl or it was going to be really embarrassing coming in mere seconds behind a seven-year old.

So I kicked it up a notch and came in at 42.35, a whole 1.04 faster than the seven-year old.

5K

Tomorrow is the big day. Unfortunately, due to some..uh..health reasons, I've been exhausted beyond all understanding for the last 10 weeks and have basically given up my training schedule. When I get home from work, I collapse on the couch in front of the TV and lose myself in reruns of The Simpsons and South Park.

But time marches on and the race begins at 7 am. I've never been in a race of any kind before and I'm really looking forward to this, despite my poor running abilities. I'll let you know how it goes!

Beach Livin'

Contrary to my mountain-loving friend, I love the beach. Growing up on the coast, beach vacations were an integral part of my childhood. And I don't mean the crowded, tourist beaches with boardwalks and shops. I mean the natural beaches with dunes and sea grasses, cottages on stilts and the smell of salt in the air.

This past week, the Resident and I headed back East for a trip to the beach. We were only in North Carolina for a few days, but those days restored my spirit. There is something healing about waking in the morning to the smell of salt, the ocean breeze, the rustle of scrubby grass.

As I sat on the ocean and watched the waves break on the sand, I realized I have had enough of desert living. Really had enough. I miss the green, the hazy days and dare I say? The humidity....

There are things about desert living that I love. I love the deep, brilliant blue skies that are incomparable to anything I've ever seen. I love the scrubby front yards with the blooming cactus and the flat adobe houses.

But I miss my ancestral homeland. There's something about the ocean.

Apologies

I know it's been awhile since I've posted anything. I don't even know if any of my friends even check this anymore. I could be blogging to a silent audience!

A lot is going on right now, exciting stuff, but I'm not quite ready to post about it yet.

Life is good.

Thunderstorms

This week has been both busy and surprising.

Spring is in full swing here in the ABQ and I'm really enjoying the seasons. It's been raining frequently, the showers coupled with thunder. I love thunderstorms. There's something so cleansing about them---kind of like the atmsophere letting off some extra electricity as some kind of cathartic release.

One Whole Year

I am no longer a newlywed.

Today is the Doctor and my one-year wedding anniversary. I can't believe it's been a whole year since we've gotten hitched--in all honesty, it feels like it's only been a couple of months (which is markedly better than saying it already feels like a lifetime!). I suppose what they say about the older you get, the faster time flies is true.

In true Sagittarius fashion, I demanded an adventure. Dinner and jewelry is nice, sure, but this is the only one-year wedding anniversary I will have! So here are a few photos of our latest adventure...the New Mexican balloon ride.

Deluged

I'm truly impressed with myself. I've been running for a month now, training for that 5K. I've not stuck with running this long since I was in high school.

After I got home on Wednesday and changed into my running clothes, the heavens opened up and dumped down a deluge of rain. I have neither a gym membership or a treadmill, so I shocked even myself and headed out for a jog anyways. Halfway through, I realized none of the gutters had drains and the water pooling on the sides of the road proved to be dangerous; at one point I was slogging through ankle-deep, shivering, my clothes sticking to my body, rain running down my face. I went home.

But you know what?

It's okay I went home. I'm so proud of myself for trying, even though I hate getting unnecessarily wet in the rain (Wicked Witch, anyone?).

Today, I tried running along the golf course trail behind my house--quite possibly the most awful experience of my life. The view of the cityscape is beautiful, but the wind was blowing so hard, I could have leaned into it and not fallen. And of course, all of my intervals were perfectly placed to have me run up rocky hills exactly midway through the interval. And you, my friends, know how truly uncoordinated I am (in college, my dance teacher remarked I have the feet of a dancer, but not the grace).

But you know what?

I finished all four of my intervals. Yes, it sucked and yes, I almost vomited during my last five minutes (eating a burrito smothered in green chile before running is not a good idea). But I finished.

I'm really doing this. In public. My ass jiggling in front of strangers as I run (practically in slow-motion, sometimes!) by them. Panting. Sometimes feeling like I'm dying. But I'm really doing this.

Submission

No, not that kind of submission.

I've actually submitted the first three chapters of my NaNoWriMo novel to the world at large. Everyone in my writing group submitted to the competition, so I bowed to the peer pressure and sent mine in, too.

My submission is postmarked in time, in the mail, on its way.

I have no illusions of winning, but each submission is getting a "professional evaluation" which should be helpful (not to mention interesting).

Keep your fingers crossed.

Like a Deer

I've recently realized that I am only aging and I will never get younger. This revelation shouldn't really be a surprise, considering that every year, I get older on my birthday (I just want to mention that the Doctor recently turned 29--last year in the decade of the 20s!).

Maybe they're right about the dawning realization that I am not immortal, that time is flying the older I get, that grey hairs sprinkled through my head are inevitable.

It's shocking really.

So, I've decided to start running. I need to begin to incorporate some form of exercise in my life on a regular and (this is key) permanent basis. I am only getting older, my metabolism is only getting slower and my ass is only getting bigger. It's time to step up to this challenge.

So I signed up for a 5K. There's a women's training program that meets for the next ten weeks every Saturday morning; tomorrow is the first Saturday. I started training on my own a few weeks ago so I don't look too slow. I'm in my third week of training and I'm starting to get it. I don't like running, but I like the competition. I like pushing myself by running another minute in my intervals. I like walking less each day when I leave the house. I like running the hardest I can my last interval, pushing myself to the limit, feeling my lungs burn inside my chest.

I'm feeling happy again. I no longer feel like I'm drowning. The skies have gotten blue again. And I'm am able to breathe again, exhaling with a force of life I never thought possible here in this place.