Ugh - Jalapeños

I was doing so well. I hadn't puked in two solid weeks, but I just managed to confirm what I learned early in my pregnancy: Jalapeños are DEFINITELY on the list of the Top 3 WORST things to puke. :(

The alien in my belly

Corbyn is in Idaho this week and the movie Alien was on TV last night... I made the mistake of watching it alone and, despite the fact that it was made in the 1970's AND I have seen it before, it totally freaked me out. I couldn't sleep last night... I was tempted to get my shotgun to protect myself from the Aliens I SWEAR were in my house last night.

When I talked to Corbyn tonight, I told him that I was freaked out from watching Alien and he was making fun of me... all I have to say is that he can't really make fun of me about being freaked out until he feels like he has an alien ready to break through his belly! (Is it just me or does a baby moving in your belly feel freakily like Alien?)

And, on a complete side note, I swear, the baby bonked her head on my rib cage today.

Pirate Corbyn...

In order for you to understand this story, I have to provide a little background:

About 4 years ago (actually, pretty close to exactly 4 years ago, because is was during the 2004 Olympics), a group of us friends went to Costa Rica and Nicaragua on a trip. While there, I was exposed to the most enormous bugs of my life. Huge. Like, one night, we chased (yes, literally CHASED) a huge bug around the room of our hostel because it was so LOUD just walking around none of us could sleep. I swear, it was the size of a small mouse. It was absolutely disgusting. And, since Corbyn spent 2 years of his life in Nicaragua on his mission, you might understand that he has come home with some...uh, bug issues. They never express themselves during the day, but at night, when he is asleep and his subconsciousness takes over, his true phobias come out. Like, if I accidentally touch him in the night, he FREAKS out. (Like, jumps out of the bed slapping himself to kill whatever bug touched him.)

Which leads me to my story and the picture: A couple nights ago, Corbyn dreamed (I didn't even touch him) that a bug was crawling on his face. So, he went to slap it away and managed to jam his thumb right in his eye. In the morning, his eye was swollen shut and emitting a steady stream of tears. And, it was difficult for him to even open his other eye. Being the helpful wife that I am, I got one of my bandanna's and tried to tie it over his one eye, but he thought it looked dumb, so he wouldn't wear it. But, he should learn to listen to me... since his vision was somewhat altered due to only being able to see out of one eye, when he went to adjust a pillow, he managed to jam his thumb BACK in his eye. So, he tied the bandanna back on... Amy always knows best. I bought him a super sweet eye patch after work that night - see picture.

Booth babes and crazy New Yorkers

So, prepare yourself for a bunch of posts to this blog... I am in New York at a conference which means my day is a cycle of 1 hour sessions followed by a 45 minute break during which I am supposed to go talk to voice recognition/speech automation vendors. But, I am not interested in being sold anything today, so I will likely just catch up on email and blog. :)

Here is what I love about these conferences: the Booth Babes and the fact that you can't find anything other than coffee to drink.

So, what are booth babes? They are the hot chicks hired to stand at a vendors booth, wear skimpy clothes and pull in poor suckers who don't realize (or rather, don't care) that these girls don't actually know anything about the product they are "representing", they are just there to start the conversation. So, the men initiate the conversation, thinking, "I don't mind being sold something, as long as it is by this hot 20 year old in a mini skirt and sports bra looking thing." And then, sadly, the booth babe engages in conversation only until the slick sales guy in alligator skin shoes has finished up with the last poor sucker and can take over the conversation. Not being a man, I don't understand if the poor suckers are clueless to this process or if they are really just that desperate to talk to a pretty girl, so they don't care. I mean honestly, what kind of business person would buy a multi-million dollar software package from a person wearing hot shorts and a tube top?) This ploy seems pretty transparent to me, but again... I am not a man, so maybe not. Any man willing to clear this up for me?

Second favorite thing about conferences: the fact that coffee is the ONLY drink available. Surely, I am not the ONLY non-coffee drinker in this industry. The only options currently are coffee, de-caf, or hot water (for tea). I have considered getting myself some hot water in a cup and just letting it sit for an extended period of time to cool off, but then I discovered my other sneaky option - they have small pitchers of 2% milk as a healthy option to cream to put in your coffee... I sure get some strange looks grabbing a coffee cup and dumping the entire contents of one of those 2% milk pitchers in... desperate times.

And, my last comment for this blog - New Yorkers are crazy. I went to the bathroom after landing in New York (compliments of pregnancy that I couldn't wait until I made it to the hotel) and there was a line. So, while standing in line, I noticed there was a crazy lady on all fours UNDER the baby changing table. And, what's more... she was apparently talking to herself. Huh? Now, the obvious thought is, "Oh, poor crazy homeless lady escaped from a mental institution." But this lady was clearly not homeless... she had the full-on fur and jewelry action going on. So, as the line moved forward, I really strained to see what the heck was going on under there. When I get close enough, I could hear she was saying stuff like, "Come on honey, just come out. You need to go to the bathroom." "You are going to need to go sooner or later and now is the time." "I'll get you a treat if you just come out and try to go." So, then I was even more confused because it was WAY too small for a child to be under there with her. So, I had to look, even though it was obvious. (I had to bend over as far as my prego body would let me.) It was a little mini hideous cat in a mini kennel. I had the hardest time not laughing out loud... I mean honestly, why the heck was THIS the opportune moment for the cat to go to the bathroom? I can only assume it is because we were in a bathroom, which I guess means she was going to put the cat on the toilet? (Uh, Meet the Parents anyone?) She was still coaxing when I came out of the stall... New Yorkers are CRAZY!!!

Poor, poor Corbyn

Corbyn had a very, very funny post on here... his first blog ever. All about how my family reunion may have been the funnest event he has ever attended in his life, how motorcycle helmets are not meant to be thrown, tossed, set in the dirt, left in the sun, etc., how pasta salad needs pepperoni, how baby's diapers should not be changed on picnic tables where people will be eating soon, and lastly, how men are the real victims of pregnancy. I saw it, and emailed him that I was offended that he felt victimized by my pregnancy - I was kidding (mostly), but apparently, he really is victimized, because it struck so much fear into him that he deleted the post. For those of you who didn't get to read it before he deleted it, you missed out. For those of you who aren't his wife (and therefore NOT the one victimizing him), it was probably extremely funny.

So, I learned something about myself. Apparently, I am a very scary pregnant woman. I've heard about those...