Die Happy

I'm tired. Extremely tired. And everyone keeps telling me, "just wait, it's worse after the baby is born." Yeah right.

Since I have little to no energy, I offer this link for your reading (or other kind of) pleasure: At least you could die happy.

Cool Gift

Wednesday was The Antidote's birthday. Among the cool gifts that he got was one from none other than David Amulet and his lovely wife. They gave him a game called Would You Rather...?.

But, to suit our tastes, it was the "sick and twisted" version.

The whole point of the game is to get people to talk about really bizarre situations that you would rarely (if ever) find yourself in. In fact, the game instructions (damn lawyers) tell you to NEVER act our the situations posed...as they may harm or kill you. Nice.

Sounds weird, but it's freakin' hilarious. So last night, it being a week night and all, we decided NOT to play.

Of course,that did not stop me from reading some of the cards aloud to see just what this game was about. We then spent the evening debating:

Would You Rather...
if a man (women, switch genders for a moment)
be able to spontaneously ejaculate OR never ejaculate?

As a group, I think we decided that spontaneous ejaculation would be MUCH more fun. But then, this question arose:

Would You Rather...
stand naked for 5 minutes at the busiest airport nearest your home OR be caught masturbating by a member of the opposite sex?

The spontaneous ejaculation would certainly be an issue in either of these situations, no?

Of course not all the questions involved things of such an...um...intimate nature. There was also:

Would You Rather...
eat 3 barrels of dead flies over two weeks
OR eat 20 lbs of moldy bacon?

DA's wife and I decided that eating a barrel of dead flies would probably be better because, after awhile, they would just be like the handfuls of peanuts you eat when you go to those restaurants that let you leave peanut shells on the floor. DA and The Antidote, however, felt that 20 lbs of moldy bacon was certainly less problematic than dead flies.

As you can tell -- this can lead to some interesting dinner conversation.....

The floor is now open for any other Would you Rathers... that come to mind...

What Would Jesus Sell (or Buy)?

I'm not anti-religious. I just don't know much about it. I didn't have much religious training when I was young, so I really feel like I don't know enough about the topic to discuss it intelligently. So, I don't, generally.

That being said, I recently ran across an article, though, that has left me perplexed. Apparently there is a new trend to tie in faith with fitness. I understand the premise. But don't these smack of infomercials-gone-bad:

The Lord's Gym: Where "instructors shout out stimulating quotations from scripture" and you can take praise-rcise and yo-god classes.

Body By God: a 40-day program to teach people how to "achieve the highest level of performance from God's handiwork."

What Would Jesus Eat: Um...Bread and wine?

The Prayer Diet: With riveting chapters such as "weight loss through prayer." Is this like the scene in "Are you There God, It's Me Margaret" when she chants "I must, I must, I must increase my bust?"

The Hallelujah Diet: Teaching God's original plan for health and healing. The list of foods to be avoided is longer than the list of foods you can eat. Sounds strangely like starvation to me...

Forget cleanliness being next to godliness. Today's mantra? Commercialism is next to godliness.

May I Please Have an Order of Crazy with a Side of Psycho for 2007?

Welcome to 2007 everyone. I hope you all partook of some safe and happy New Year celebrations. Ringing in the New Year is always something of a bitter sweet moment for me. I love the aspect of something new, something unpredictable being right around the corner. But the prospect of saying goodbye to another year, is well, a little sad.

2006 was an great year for me....but a conversation -- ok, a total freak out -- I had on New Year's Even has begun to make me feel a little uneasy about my state of mind for 2007.

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The Antidote, I, and 4 other friends decided we wanted to ring in the New Year at a party in downtown D.C. We figured it might be our last chance to "really" do this right for awhile being that I'm "with child" and all. Plus, any reason to dress up and make fun of other people's fashion sense, right?

At any rate, The Antidote and I were having everyone over to the house for pre-party munchies, drinks, etc. So, we spent most of the morning on December 31 cleaning the house up. At about 10:00 a.m., I ask The Antidote if he's hungry.

He replies that he's "getting there." I reply, "Well, I need to eat something."

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Now, about 3-4 months ago (when I was only 3-4 months preggo) the phrase "I need to eat something," really meant, "If I don't eat something in the next five minutes, I will turn into the little girl from The Exorcist until some sort of sustenance passes my lips." Any of you that have been pregnant or around pregnant people get this.

Well, now that I'm in my 7th month, when I say "I need to eat something," it generally means we have AT LEAST a 30 minute to one hour window before I go all kooky.

Poor Antidote, however, is unaware of this change because, well, why should he be?

Anyway, back to my story.

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So, the Antidote jumps into self-preservation mode. He runs to the kitchen and starts listing all of things that we have in the house that I could possibly eat. He stops short of offering to cook up our dog.

Of course, nothing that he offers me sounds like what I want to eat. So, I stand in the kitchen, unable to make a decision. After a few minutes of this, The Antidote sighs and says, "You are being SO indecisive!" and leaves the kitchen to continue house preparations.

I become exasperated with him...and myself. So, I march upstairs to put on some clothes (I was in my pajamas, not naked. Naked pregnant is NOT like Demi Moore would lead you to believe). I've decided that I'm going to the store...and while there I will think about what I want and then eat it. But, of course, I don't share this epiphany with The Antidote.

So, he shouts from downstairs, still unbeknownst of my decision, "Are you going to eat something?"

I yell back, "I'm just going to go to the store."

At this point, he is really irritated with me. So, he comes upstairs and says, "Why don't you eat something? We have plenty here."

And this, my friends, is where I go crazy. I start to cry. And not just tears streaming down my face. I really start to sob. I yell at him, "Over the last few days it's like I....well...like you think that I'm....damn it, haven't you ever been hungry and not known what you want to eat?"

No folks, what I've just typed is NOT meant to make sense. It is the kind of crazy psychosis that has been building up in me for the last 7 months.

So, his response? "Yes, but it's the crying over it that's worrying me."

It took all my effort not to try and lift our dresser and throw it at him.

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I really am telling this story as something "funny," but it does worry me a bit. I mean, "haven't you ever been hungry and not known what you want to eat?" What the hell kind of crazy thing is that to say?

I know, I know, "pregnancy hormones." I'm not one to claim that I'm a reasonable person 365 days a year, 24 hours a day. But to cry because I don't know what I want to eat?

I just hope this isn't a sign of what's to come.

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Anyway, that's my long way of saying I welcomed in 2007 with a little bit of crazy. I hope all of you had a different type of crazy time...i.e., falling down because you were so drunk and happy crazy.

May your New Year be prosperous...and may you always know what you want to eat when you're hungry.