Just waking up in the morning gotta thank God

I don't know but today seems kinda odd

No barking from the dogs, no smog

And momma cooked a breakfast with no hog

I can't believe, today was a good day

Started the morning by walking outside to a beautiful, sunny, warm spring day. The birds? They were seriously chirping. The sun? Hard core shining. I got onto the Metro and whether it was because I wasn't wearing an belly-concealing coat and scarf or not, this adorable 14 year old looked at me and actually got up and offered me his seat. Yay!

When I got to work and made my trek up the breath-stealing hill, I paused to get my badge out of my bag and an older gentlemen actually got in front of me to hold the door open for me. Yay!

At lunch, I went to the cafeteria and saw the cook pull out a fresh batch of hot, crispy french fries. I grabbed a bunch and sat outside in the sunshine for an hour with my buddies. Yay!

By 4:00, I completed enough work to get a tidy little bonus for the end of the quarter, so I called up TP to make a date. We met at the Cherry Blossoms, had Thai food for dinner, and cuddled on the couch while watching The Office. Yay!

Eight months down, eight weeks to go. In that time, I have to:

• Finish packing up the rest of the clutter in the old house and move (and by "move," I mean point to and order around others to move) it to the new house.
• Get the old house in viewing condition and plant flowers in the front to fool people into thinking that this ghetto fabulous house is more faulous than ghetto.
• Attend a two-day, all-day child-birthing class this weekend at the hospital in order to get acquainted with the digs, to run through the procedure, and, as TP put it, to learn which way of the baby is up.
• Cram in as many overtime hours at work this week to tack onto my maternity leave in May.
• Finish watching The Constant Gardener and The Squid and the Whale before potentially cancelling Netflix since they have me on "the throttle list" but may reconsider when we move and fool them into thinking that we are new customers.
• Go with LB to the salon to get our brows in wedding-day-condition and hope that they don't get jacked up.
• Watch season one of Lost on dee-wee-dee.
• Pay taxes, bills, real estate agent, and movers.
• Participate in LB's civil wedding in town to be followed by LB's religious wedding back home.
• Turn in some schedule at work detailing my time off: vacation, sick, compensatory, maternity (without pay - stupid government), and possibly FMLA (also without pay - stupid government).
• Contacting everyone and everything to alert them to our change of address.
• Set up some sort of internet and/or cable connection at the new house.
• Try to jam a queen-sized bed into a full-sized room for when Mom and Dad come to stay with us.
• Organize the baby's stuff which, as of now, takes up most of the upper level of the new house.
• Oh yeah, and that other stuff: laundry, groceries, eat, sleep, work, play . . .

*thunk*

Avast! With all the goings-on above, I didn't find out about this until too late. Shiver me timbers!

Mabrook Madness!

• To Sensai Sanchez on the birth of her adorable baby boy - may they both be happy, healthy, and hankerin' for ice cream
• To Najm on his engagement to a wonderful, wacky woman - may they both live close to me so they can babysit and have savage night at a moment's notice
• To LB and Gunnar on their upcoming nuptials - may they both live close to me (see above) and bring me back something rockin' from Italy
• To TP on his new house - may it be filled with happiness and harmony
• To the wee one for turning around and facing the right direction - may you come into a world of light and laughter
• NEW ADDITION: To Sufisticate for tricking some sucker into marrying him - may you find a good job in DC (note, VA does not = DC) and (see above).

This time last year, I was kickin' it in Finland (and by "Finland," I mean the Embassy of Finland). This year, TP's function was held at the Canadian Embassy. Not only were there no pony chairs upon which to sit, no fancy spread, and no dessert, the place strongly resembled a high school gymnasium, sans basketball nets and teen sweat. And here I was all set to try out some poutine - described here as repulsive and delicious. Well, Canucks? What say you?

Moving Day Reprisal

I'm too sleepy, back-achey, and stuffed up to write any pseudo-poetry this time, but rest assured, packing days have begun again and it has its joys (finally get to throw away some stuff) and its pains (trying not to lift any heavy boxes and let my crew do the heavy work, but it's in the way!). With the warm weather and sunshine comes the nefarious pollen to join forces with the evil dust to destroy me. That's one less tissue box we have to move because I've run right through it.

Still, it's such a relief knowing that our days in CoHi (where we are bookended by liquor stores) are numbered and we are moving back to AdMo (where we might be around the corner from a coming-soon Harris Teeters). It's also immensely satisfying to clutter up the new house with all of the luggage (filled with summer clothes), the books (to be arranged on the bookcases when they arrive), and the baby shower gear (which can take up an entire room by itself). We are leaving the heavy items - beds, dressers, couches - for the movers (and maybe Najm) for when we sell our OTHER house (look at me, Miss Moneybags with TWO houses in DC). Thanks for all of your help, LB and Gunnar. Two Amys tonight on me. Oops, closed because of a water main break.

Make that Cactus Cantina. Twenty minute wait just to get a beeper?

Nope, how about Cafe Deluxe? Closed.

Try Again. Angelico's? Closed.

Head back to Cleveland Park then. Indique? 30 minute wait. On a rainy Sunday night.

Sixth time's a charm. Alero's it is.

Happy Birthday, Cybermom!

To celebrate your birthday, we took a half day off from work, bought a house, and took your cousin out to dinner for *his* birthday! Hope you had a wonderful day. :)

The Good: Mom's home cookin', finding fancy clothes that fit me, listening to Nanaji's classic rambles (whether directly by him or by someone else imitating him), seeing the family, and joining in on destroying the Godiva Tower all weekend long.

The Bad: Going from the airport shuttle to the airplane only to turn around and be sent back to the airport because the plane had no power, waiting around for an hour, and getting called back to board the allegedly powered up plane at the time about which we were supposed to have landed.

The Ugly: My feet swelling up to unbeliewable proportions from the party high heels and my fingernails chopped and roont because the jackhole at L.A. Nails mixed up "French Manicure" for "French Tips."

Ooh-wee-ooh-wee-ooooooohhhh (wah wah wah) . . .