Pimped Out Incubators

Because Max is too little to wear the mountains of clothes my mother has already made for him and because he can't really even wear clothes yet because he is finishing his gestation in the NICU, my mother has taken it upon herself to make his incubator the most pimped out incubator in all of Southern California- who am I kidding in all the universe. She is making tons of receiving blankets.* (Truth be told, I don't even understand what a receiving blanket is. What makes it so fundamentally different than a regular blanket?) She's already embroidered some kind of Winnie the Pooh quilt that they can put on top to keep out the light. I told her she needed to make sure that she put his initials on everything so those other babies didn't try blanket jack him. I'm sure once they open their eyes and see the kinda bling he's got around his incubator even the tubes and IVs won't stop them from trying.

Max got his breathing tubes taken out today and is notably less agitated. He had to have a bit of a sunbath because he had some jaundice, but he was calm and looking good when I saw him today. I told him to keep an eye out if any of the other babies started to covet his quilts and blankets and that he should try to dirty as much of them as he could so my mom could continue to make more because it keeps her busy. He held my finger for a good moment until his mom instructed me to move outta the way so she could do it.

*My mom says receiving blankets don't take that long to make at all, so I suggested that she set up her sewing machine on the other side of the scrubbing station and as people walked in they could say who they were visiting and the sex of the baby and then she could whip them up a receiving blanket. They would know if they scrubbed up long enough if the blanket was done when they walked through the other door. That's when my mom got tired of me and suggested I go down to the cafeteria, but I think that secretly she was trying to figure out if that was a viable option.

Randi is barking at shadows on the floor? This is new.

Baby Max Update

I am suddenly that person showing everybody and their mother pictures of a baby. But I don't give a flying fuck, because I've looked at and feigned interest in a lot of babies and baby pictures in my life and it's about time the favor got returned.

Max is doing well. And by well, I mean all of his problems are problems you would expect with a guy who only got to medium rare. They had to put in a breathing tube because he was having a bit of trouble breathing and they've only not taken it out because he was such a bear when they put it in. My mom was in with him when they tried to take an x-ray and she said it took three nurses to get him to be still. He's quite strong. The words the nurses keep saying are "fiesty and personality." He still needs any thoughts and prayers you have to spare.

My sister is home from the hospital and the only remaining part of her puffer fish pregnancy skin are her feet.

31 Weeks and Fiesty!

Due to severe pre-eclampsia, they had to deliver my sister's baby this morning at only 31 weeks. 3lbs 2oz of fiesty. I predicted that this guy was gonna come out kicking and screaming and pissed the fuck off and according the NICU nurse, 31 weeks was enough time to develop quite the personality. The doctor said he is doing 'remarkably well.' He is breathing on his own with the just some oxygen support. He doesn't like the tube and keeps pulling it out which is why in the one picture he's holding my finger, so he'll stop. If he stays good and stable tomorrow we may get to hold him.

My sister hasn't been able to see him yet because the medicine they're giving her to prevent seizures means she can't move around. She's is recovering, but still has high blood pressure. If you say prayers, please say some for them both.

And if I burst into tears one more time...

Max Alexander

Best Day of My Life

Yesterday while I was out for a mental health day, Gretchen autographed my poster of Justin Bieber. I didn't notice until she pointed it out, but I thought it was pretty funny. Then fourth period these girls said to me, "Ms. Thompson, you met Justin Bieber? Oh my god!" I said, "Uh, yeah." Because I really couldn't believe that these girls thought that I had really met Justin Bieber. "Was it cool? Was he cool? Where?!" They wanted to know all about it. Not having any details to give and afraid I might bust into laughter I just responded, "Best day of my life, the day I met Justin Bieber."

"To Bethany- Thanks for being such a fan- Love, Justin Bieber"

Wednesday I saw Stephen in his full on middle aged professor get up- glasses and cardigan sweater. He hadn't heard that I was less one duck, so I took the opportunity to ask him a few questions, like whether or not I needed to get more ducks to keep PDub company and so she would not be prone to fowl depression. Stephen said having just one duck might be better for "our relationship" because she might be more friendly towards me. Once again, Stephen was right on in his evaluation because since she has been the only duck, PDub has been way more friendly. She lets me pet her nearly every day and when I walk towards her she rarely runs away. Sometimes she even lets me pick her up. I guess we're taking our 'relationship' to a new level.

I think my love affair with my LA County Library Card has passed its Honeymoon phase. That which I was most afraid has happened: Even Silence Has An End became available Monday, as I was finishing Killing Floor. It's almost 700 pages. Then yesterday The Imperfectionists became available at 304 pages. It's too much pages! I'm feeling stressed. No way I can read all that in the next 21 days. I don't know if I can deny a book and then put myself back on the waiting list. What if I can't do it? Doesn't my LA County Library Card understand I have two baby quilts to finish? Doesn't it know I have two jobs? Doesn't it understand that I need more time? Stop stalking me LA County Library Card! I have other hobbies and friends. You're not the only thing in my life, man.

Killing Floor eBook Review

Oh. My. God. So this is the first Jack Reacher novel ever. And it could be my favorite. Jack Reacher's just left the military because he was laid off in the cutback of the 1990s. Who would let Jack Reacher go? The military. He's only been traveling the USA for six months. He has no ATM card. He doesn't even have his foldable toothbrush yet. And this book is told in the first person and so at the beginning, I was put off. I thought, I don't know if Jack Reacher and I are this close. It felt too intimate. This book was like looking at someone's high school yearbook: Jack Reacher's a fuzzy little puppy dog with big floppy feet. He dances around. He talks about his feelings with a girl. You know what else he does? Some freaking hardcore-Jack Reacher-kicks-some-god- damn-ass vigilante violence. In the first 75 pages, after having been falsely arrested and put on the wrong floor with the Aryan Brotherhood in prison, he gets in a fight in the bathroom and pokes some guy's eyeball out. Pushes his fingers into his eye socket and pops out his eyeball. When I finally realized what Jack Reacher had done, I had to take a moment to process it. I stopped reading at 10:30pm and turned to Earl and said "Earl! Jack Reacher just popped the guy's eye out! His eyeball!!" I didn't think even Jack Reacher could be capable of that. Then he kicks some guy so hard in the throat that the guy suffocates on his larynx. All of this is before he even finds out that his brother, Joe Reacher, has been murdered and he has to investigate that. Once he starts finding out who is responsible for his brother's death, the bodies start piling up. It's hard to imagine getting better than poking out someone's eyeball with fingers, but Jack Reacher's not the kind of guy who does anything half-assed and he out does himself avenging his brother's death.

There is only one word for this book: fan-fucking-tastic.

Earl. Reading.

The Key to Rebecca eBook Review

I don't know about you, but I always assumed that writing scandalous and gratuitous kinky sex scenes wasn't invented until around 1990. This book published in 1980 and set in WWII set me straight on that one. William Vandam is a British Intelligence Officer in Cairo who is hunting Alex Wolff, a suspected German spy. In order to hide, Alex Wolff has to have lots of crazy sex with an Egyptian burlesque dancer who is into threesomes. In order to capture him, Vandam has to enlist (have sex with) Elene, a mistress in between protectors. In between all the rather kinky and sometimes disturbing sex, is a good spy mystery. About 80% through, the author inexplicably changes from the third person and tells two vignettes (for lack of a better word) in first person. I was thrown out of the story. Why? I don't know why his editor didn't tell him that it didn't work well and get him to change it. But overall a very worthwhile easy read.

Deception

Boy did I have some surprises yesterday. When I got to school Gretchen, Kristen, Jenny, Allyssa, and whatever other tutors work for me after school had decorated my room. They used all available resources including the all-purpose white and orange gossamer and what seemed like 10 lbs of confetti which was scattered everywhere. Gretchen's six period-a-day T.A. and prolific twitterer, Edward, had made me 24 brownie cupcakes and Gretchen and her sister Stephanie decorated them. I watched them do it on Thursday thinking they were for Stephanie for this weekend.

Because of all the decorations and sign that said, "Happy Birthday Beth" and because I have high level students, my students entered the room asking questions like, "Is it your birthday? Really? How old are you?" Normally I say I'm 26, but because of the 24 cupcakes I said I was 24. A couple of kids caught on and were questioned how I could be 24 if I'd been teaching already for 11 years, but some of them bought it hook line and sinker. Because I am all about deceiving young people, I have also managed over the course of the year, to convince all of the little ones that I love Justin Bieber. Only after a couple of months of planting the seeds did I realize that if anyone stopped to think about it, it's kinda creepy given my age, but never-the-less I continued my ruse and so I also recieved as a present a gigantic poster of Justin Bieber. (Note: I do not actually like Justin Bieber. I don't know one Justin Bieber song. I didn't even know he cut his hair a couple of months ago until yesterday. What I know is Bieber is stinking fun to say and when you say Justin Bieber kids react.)

The day was rounded out with a dinner/party at Gretchen's house in which she arranged for me to get a ride there and for Jessica to bring my shit-talking drunk-ass home.

What you can't see is that the floor is covered in confetti.

THANK YOU GRETCHEN!

Queen of the World!

I think PDub has come out of her depression phase of grief and has moved onto the eat everything in sight and reckless behavior phase. Yesterday when I got home she was out of food and when I put out food she sprinted to the food. This morning she was surveying her queendom from her throne. I took her down because it makes me nervous to see her there. (Note the weeds not in my yard because I am the only person on the street who doesn't have weeds.)

Birthday Eve

This birthday week eve has been consumed with me weighing the age-appropriateness of and fighting the urge to throw myself on the ground in a tantrum that would make a two year old look like an amateur; a tantrum so gargantuan and violent that the energy from my feet flailing on the laminate flooring would register on the Reichter scale and my raging screams of "Pay attention to meeeeeee!" hurled at the ceiling could be heard in a Siberian work camp.

Dead Sleep eBook Review

These are the types of books that I love: fast paced, well written mysteries with interesting characters. Jordan Glass is a photojournalist who happens upon the "Sleeping Women" exhibition in Hong Kong. Only the women aren't sleeping and one of the paintings is of her identical twin who went missing 18 months before. What follows is the FBIs investigation into the abduction and murder of these women. Fantastic. Jordan has real character and isn't some silly girl who can't take care of herself. She provides intelligence for the FBI. I could have like the dénouement a bit more, but I was willing to let it go given that I had been reading for five hours and I can't even remember the last time I read that long.

Reason number "I know everyone is sick of hearing about it" why I want to make out with my LA County Library Card: I don't even have to leave the house to go to the library! I just downloaded The Key to Rebecca.

I was working on my powerpoint for Cyrano de Bergerac this morning in which drunk is a vocabulary word. Shocking to know that searches of "drunk" are censored by the San Bernardino County of Superintendent of Schools, but when I skirted the monolingual county censor this is what I got:

That's some funny right there.

Fired Up eBook Review

This book was stupid. I used to like Jayne Ann Krentz, who also writes as Jayne Castle and Amanda Quick, but I'm done with her now. This is the story of Chloe Harper and Jack Winters who have paranormal senses. Chloe can read "dream prints" and "dream waves" and Jack is a "strat" whatever the fuck that means. They walk around "opening up their senses" and reading "psi" energy and killing people by releasing waves of energy that knock them on their asses and kill them because their nightmares are put into real life. Chloe and Jack are looking for a lamp which will help Jack not become a psychic monster based on some legend from his family. They find the lamp and "activate" it using their psychic abilities. I can't even say how much I thought this book was dumb. I am just not into all of this paranormal dream energy hocus pocus. I will not read another book in the Arcane Society series; I only finished this one because I felt obligated.

Again, so glad for my LA County Library Card; I just downloaded another book to read. My back hurts too much today, so I'm just going to read until my eyes fall out.

My Kinda Country Party Laughed Until I Cried

Yesterday I got my Country on and went with Gretchen and her sister and friends to the Pala Casino to see Jason Aldean. Some of you may have seen Jason Aldean on the Academy of Country Music awards last week. I've been studying for the concert non-stop for two weeks by listening to Jason Aldean exclusively. All the way to Vegas; all the way back. I wanted to show up in cowboy boots and know all of the words to all of the songs. I wanted a cowboy hat. I made an effort to look for a chunky girl plaid shirt, but I couldn't find one. Gretchen had an extra pair of cowboy boots that she let me wear, so despite my lack of a plaid shirt, I was able to blend right in with everyone in their sundresses and cowboy boots. One of the girls did my hair in a poof. I bought an 18 pack of Coors Light. Clearly, I went all out. I thought I was making a leap out of my comfort zone, but apparently not. Before I left I had to impress on the Big Guy's paternal obligations to check on the Pack and depressed duck and I said, "Dad, I'm gonna wear cowboy boots!" He replied calmly, "OK, well have a good time." I could have easily have said, "Dad, I'm eloping to Vegas." or "Dad, I think I'm going to look into a sex-change operation." He obviously wasn't listening. I sent my sister a picture of me in my sundress and cowboy boots with the poof and she didn't seem to think that this was anything worth commenting on. Clearly, I was still operating within what everyone else considers my comfort zone.

Gretchen made a valiant effort to get us backstage passes by tweeting Jason Aldean that we were six hot chicks with a trunk full of beer. He didn't respond. Evidently he is either not into 1) hot chicks 2) beer or 3) hot chicks with beer. We took a lewd picture of us next to his giant mug on his tour 18 wheeler. There was a brief buzz kill panic at the hotel when we learned of the hotel's "Cooler Policy" and had to take all the beer out of the cooler before we could get up to the room. Not to be discouraged, two people smuggled it back in and since Jason Aldean was not interested in the beer we had brought for him, I drank up my beers and his as well.

The concert was freaking fantastic. Absolutely fucking awesome. Apparently, with the proper amount of beer, I can stand for long periods of time. I'm not sure how to work that into my daily routine, because I'm pretty sure I would not be allowed to keep my job if I had to be pounding beers all day long. I didn't meet my Redneck Romeo, but not to worry because in May the PBR (Professional Bull Riding) is going to be at the Pala Casino. I'm sure there'll be some men there!

Small mishap with red wine and tickets.

OH MY GOD WE LOVE JASON ALDEAN!

My Country feet.

Preventing Mischief

First, let me say I am not selling weight loss supplements and if you got an email from me saying so I apologize. Some unauthorized usage of my gmail happened yesterday. I've taken all the advised steps to keep it from happening again, including reminding Randi and Earl not to give out my password to anyone no matter how many treats they give out. I felt guilty, like I had done something wrong until I got my fourth email from the fourth different company regarding the hackage that happened at Epislon and I thought, geez, those guys supposedly spend a lot more time and energy worrying about being hacked and it happened to them.

Then, I bundled everyone up to take Clark to the vet. I was very worried about leaving Randi and Earl home alone to see what kind of mischief they could make. I went back and fourth, take them, don't take them, take them, don't take them. I decided I wouldn't take them owing to the fact that it was during the hours specifically dedicated to nap time and they seemed pretty lethargic. I devised a plan to get Puppy Clark in the car via the back door, skirting any interaction with Randi and Earl, only my plans were thrown out the window when Clark didn't do a good enough job hiding as we walked to the car. Randi spotted us and started going insane and then Earl joined in and I made the quick decision to take them, less they make mischief by eating my remaining duck, who despite her fowl depression, does not need to die.

I haven't taken the dogs in the car in a looooong time because it hurts my back to have them pulling so much. Everyone at the vet fell in love with Randi and Earl, because let's face it: tThey are darn cute and make quite the impression. I think, though it sounds completely ridiculous, that they helped calm Puppy Clark who has "the red mark" on his chart as a dog who has to "go in the back" for his shots and who got the mass on his head examined but who was not actually due for shots despite the fact that I got a postcard that said, "Clark is due for shots." And when I called I said, "He needs his shots," and I got an appointment for shots. Clark was commended for being so young looking and healthy (He's 11 1/2.) As it turns out, everyone needs their shots in June. So in June I will bundle everyone back up again and we go on an excursion back to the vet.

TWO DAYS UNTIL JASON ALDEAN!!

(You know you're jealous.)

Hungover

Earl's still getting over the three day bender he was on while I was in Vegas. It was obvious by his lethargy, giggles and dopey eyes that he had spent some quality time getting high while I was gone. Two days later and he's still stumbling around interspersed with some moments of clarity.

The Confessor eBook Review

Gabriel Allon is an Israeli Intelligence Officer. He's so secret that even the Israeli Intelligence doesn't even know he exists. He goes around Europe and assassinates bad people with a Beretta under the cover of an art restorer. In this book he investigates the murder of a friend and associate. During the course of the investigation he discovers a secret group in the Vatican called the Crux Vera who have been murdering people all over Europe in order to keep the Vatican's role in the Holocaust a secret.

I thought the first part of this book was off to a slow start. It seemed to take a long time before it started to make sense, but then it rumbled along at an acceptable and interesting secret agent genre clip. It was a great poolside read. These are the types of books that I'm super excited to get from the LA County Library with my LA County Library card.

This Week

Tuesday: This post isn't funny. It's not even remotely comical. Tuesday Pete, Bill, Don with the Brick Driveway and his friend Joe and I went for a mountain bike ride. We were going to go counterclockwise around Bell Mountain taking the high road back around to the single track, which will make sense, only to us. It's a ride we do every week. We weren't doing anything dangerous or technical. I have and would ride this alone. This ride is so non technical that the real mountain bikers only do it as part of a larger route. We were about 20 minutes into our ride, out in the desert at about the exact spot that I lost Randi and Earl, when Pete went over the handlebars and landed face first on a rock. Bill and I were too far back to see the crash. When we pulled up Pete was still on the ground. (For you non bikers, that is the first sign of Serious, because most of the time you hop back up and are dusting yourself off by the time the slow pokes arrive, while everyone who saw the crash rates it.) Don said we needed a first aid kit. We didn't. Pete had hit the rock at the exact right angle to slice open his face. And when I say slice open his face, I mean from his nose to his chin it was sliced open to the bone. His gums were sliced open. He was bleeding profusely. I called 911 and Don gave them the GPS coordinates. 911 wanted an exact address. I said there is no address for where we are. They insisted on an address. Then my phone dropped the call. Pete insisted I take a pictures of him. I did, but only under duress because Bill said it was what he wanted. I'm not posting any pictures because they are horrific. (I flat out refused to take pictures in the ER.) Approximately where we were:

Two riders rode out to help the ambulance find Pete and I rode as fast as I could back to the car and Don stayed with Pete. By the time I got back to the crash site in my truck, the ambulance had Pete on the way to the emergency room. Pete had to have facial reconstruction Tuesday night. They sewed his face back together and sutured his gums. The plastic surgeon reattached his chin muscle because it had been sliced through. He'll have to have dental implants to replace the teeth. They were hoping to be able save part of his nose, but the last indication is that he may lose part of his nose because of the blood loss. He'd have to have at least one more surgery to reconstruct his nose. Finally home from the hospital, I just talked him and he sounds in remarkably good spirits. I can't get over it: All we did was go for a bike ride.

Thursday: I did the Tour de Hospital and took Jessica to Loma Linda for a test, then visited with Pete and then drove to Las Vegas to meet up with Ami who was visiting from Charlotte. For Vegas trips, it was rather subdued. No one passed out in the Fat Burger Bathroom. No one got in any bar fights. No one was a Filthy Whore. I did get locked out of the room (fully dressed) and they had to replace the entire lock. My back hurt a lot so I used the codeine + gin pain management system. I stayed an extra night and spent some quality time at the pool. Not once, but twice the beefy guy giving out free tickets to Bare, the Mirage "European Style Beach Experience" passed me up. Ami said I should have raised my hand and said I was interested. I said, if it were a real "European Beach Experience" there would have been plenty of people with my body shape topless in bikini bottoms. I guess the mirage is that everyone on a European Beach is smoking hot. (And anyone who's ever been to a real European beach knows that smoking hot is not a requirement to be in a speedo or topless.) When I got home Mischief had barely been here and I still had one duck who was pissed the fuck off because she had no food, but who at least had been eating because she had not been for three or four days due to what I suspect was fowl depression.

Poolside at the Mirage

FIVE DAYS UNTIL JASON ALDEAN!

(Don't pretend you don't like Country!)