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Dear Baby,

I cannot believe that you have already been alive for a year.  Thank goodness that you have outgrown your not-so-cute-alien-looking phase.  You could still use a tan, but at least you are not ugly.  Personally, I am impressed that you are even still alive. Between your insane mother, your questionable grandmother, and the Mike’s Hard Pomegranate Lemonade…  Well, let’s just say that you have already proven yourself to be a trooper.  Please tell your mother to stop buying strange hats for you.  And tell your uncle to fix his hair.  Anywho, here’s to you! 

Votre Tante







Overrated One

Overrated Two

Overrated Three

Well, maybe not the third one. :]

Yesterday was PS’s baby shower, hosted (forcibly) by the lovely me. Considering that I found out about this hosting job four days prior to the party, I think it went pretty well. I am so magical! Admittedly, I had no idea what I was doing initially, because this was the first (and hopefully the last for awhile, so the rest of you hoes better keep your legs crossed) baby shower I had ever thrown. But with the help of Auntie Ava, I figured things out. That lady should be a professional party planner, for real. And PS made out like a bandit! I should throw myself a shower too… get me lots of free junk… Anywho, party was long, but lovely. I do not understand why people spend months planning these things… I mean, it is not exactly a biophysics conference… Maybe just so they can whine about how much work they have put into it?

Although, we all have some doubts about PS’s supposedly latent parenting skills, I figure that she cannot possibly worse than mothers such as this one:

Fortunately — unfortunately — society was on her like a leech to get skinny, so I didn’t have to say a word. By 10th grade, she was Kate Moss-thin. I was impressed by her self-control — until her hair began to fall out in clumps. With the help of a therapist, she conquered her eating disorder. But now I was totally confused on what messages to send my kids about food. Of course I wanted Marcy healthy — but damn, she sure had looked good when she was thin. Except for the hair.

If only this was satire… but it is not. Sometimes society makes me want to hit it in the face. Where is this face of society? Someone please inform me, so that I can go knock it out. So infuriating. If only the blame could fairly be placed at one point. It would be so much simpler to handle. Personally, I think that the foundation is built at home, by the family and friends who surround you. But what happens when an individual’s foundation is built weakly due to toxic family and/or friends? Just ask the above woman’s daughter. :/ Add on the pressures of societal standards, media pressures, and endorsements of the medical community… and its a pretty disastrous future.

I use the term “medical community” very loosely. Like Hydroxycut‘s Jon Marshall and and Rapid Slim SX‘s Bryce Swanson. They are both doctors, but the former is currently a radiology resident and the second is an anesthesia resident… Suspicious. Why couldn’t they get some endocrinology/metabolism specialists to endorse their products? Because their products are whack!!! It also annoys me that this is the view of osteopathic medicine which America is seeing. Just when the biases were starting to fade. I have met some really awesome DOs in the last few months. On the other hand, can you blame Dr. Marshall and Dr. Swanson for wanting to get out of the $100,000 debt which medical school probably put them in? :/ I don’t know. I do know that we all need to start implementing some real solutions, rather than questionable shortcuts.

Ever since my little bout with Typhoid Fever, I have been dreaming almost every night. More accurately, I guess I should say that I have been remembering my dreams each night. See? Silver lining to every cloud. Strangely, my lucid dreams have been of much lesser frequency. I’ve only had one since then. About a crocodile. It was really scary. Ask me about it next time you see me.

The downside to this newfound dream memory is that I am tempted to write about my dreams… instead of working on NaNoWriMo… so then I spend forever trying to incorporate them into NaNoWriMo… and now I am so behind! >:[ You would think that adding a crocodile to a storyline about Africa would be simple, but it turned into such a mess. 😦 So maybe those dreams are better off here, in good company with my holiday wish list. :]

So last night, Angie (she told me to call her that), Brad (Pitt), and I had dinner at Norman Mailer’s. He was living in a really quaint little college town. I was on the newspaper staff there, and he had agreed to be interviewed by me. Anywho, I was rushing out my apartment door, due to some collegiate extracurricular activities which I will not expound upon, when I ran into Angelina and Brad on the street. I asked them where they were going and Angie (after insisting that I call her “Angie”) told me that they were also on their way to Mr. Mailer’s. Hot.

When we arrived, Norman (I never actually called him this. Only Mr. Mailer.) was on the phone and waved us in. I wish I could upload mental images, because the house was totally what you would expect of him. The table was set already and everything was so cute. I guess a man learns a thing or two after being married 50 times. Anywho, I could go on with the details, which include an unfortunate chewing gum incident and more, but then I’d go on forever. So, I’ll just say that it was rather pleasant overall. Although, I do understand Sookie’s frustrations now.

In other news, for those of you who have been wondering, the blob in my sister’s uterus has transformed into a girl. I was not leaning towards, nor away from, the XX chromosomes, just a healthy child. But now that I think about it, this will probably be like having two Animas… so maybe I should have prayed for the XY. 😐

Lastly, after class this week, I am GONE! GONE! VANISHED! ESCAPED! Don’t call me. I won’t call you. Who was the author who said something about how he loved to take sudden mini-vacations, and just disappear without telling anyone where he was going nor when? I want to say Thoreau, but not positive… someone find it for me :p I will see most of you next week. Until then, Adieu :]

NaNoWriMo Word Count: (18,530/50,000) &%!#@$! Stewped crocodiles!!