
The latest of my niece Mia. To see more pictures, go here.

~:W O N D E R * W O M A N:~
Oh man, Sarah, now I don't know what to do. I am gravid with doubt. (he he)
1. "GRAVID"
2. "TOMMY"
3. "Anne-Davnes" or "Davnes"
Well I am a little happier this evening. Went to the school today for one on one meetings with students and Nick brought me a chocolate bar. We shared it. Thank you, Nick. Then Bimp awoke and I got to feel him nudge me all day long. That's one of the really fun parts. 

Lordy. I should have known better than to try tackling this task today. But it has to be done, or Bimpie sleeps with Bjorn, which would get us into a lot of trouble. After just one hour, I'm regretting every little knick knack I saved, every photo, sketchbook, book, broken something, poster, postcard, xmas card, schnittle... you name it. We've kept it. So I'm feeling out of control by 2:00 in the afternoon. My life's dirty, messy, cluttered. I am unprepared for parenthood. I would have liked to have cleaned the house today, but now I've got an unpacked room of trinkets and bad memories AND a dirty house.
Little Bjorn's downstairs being ignored. Even HE'S dirty. So he gets a bath. And I'm mad at him for squirming. So I'm yelling. Doug's upstairs fumbling in the attic. I've just returned from Kroger to get hamburger makings and managed to snag the very last bag of buns (these are the soft white boring kind) and have unpacked my bags only to realize I've forgotten the fucking beef. Kill me now. Did I mention I'm pregnant, too? Hot, fat, bloated and hormonal? And that I cried during the last half of Yoga class Saturday morning?
Doug (who has been SUCH a great husband these past few months) goes back to Kroger to get the meat. I decide that I can't stand one more second of animal hair on the floor, so I get the vacuum out. After Bjorn pees on the floor, Doug puts him in his crate to nap. Yes. We are going to be really great parents. Hmmm. So the floor's clean but I'm fuming by now, practically in tears by the time Doug gets back.
~:P O S T * H A S T E:~



~: B I M P * P A G E:~
~:F R E S H * R I P - O F F:~
Back to my story - I'm at the deli and pick out a ready made chicken wrap and ask the attendant where their forks and knives are. She points to a basket. I pick out a fork. No knives? She shrugs her shoulders and tells me I'll find those at the register. Hmmph. So I'm at the register and after paying an arm and a leg for that little chicken wrap, I ask for a knife. I was told flatly that they don't have any knives. "Are you sure?" Yes, well the deli might have them. "Well, then will you go check for me, please?" She leaves and returns with another flat, "NO." Not a sorry - we must be out of them. Or maybe a "I'll go check in the back." I was this close to returning everything I'd just purchased and gone back to Publix.
Next, I'm at the deli counter again and this time decide to try one of their custom made sandwiches. I order a chicken salad sandwich. Without a word, this woman who tried so hard to make me wait for acknowledgment of my presence, pointed to a "form" I had to fill out first before she would make my sandwich. "For accuracy", she said, with a rotation of her head, via her neck, at her shoulders with an a-la-urban-esque-you-aint-no-bettah-den-me-juss-cuz-I-be-wearin-dis-green-apron-beeotch gesture. Jesus Christ, how complicated can a chicken salad sandwhich be? Costs me around $5.00. Almost as much as that fucking watermelon. When I get back to the school to eat it, I open the sandwich to discover ONE slice of tomato, ONE leaf of lettuce, and a .25 inch pathetically thin layer of "chicken salad", consisting of mostly mayo and some kind of pickle/relish mixture. I find ONE good chunk of chicken in there. But lemme tell you, this sandwich was not short of bread. Hmmm. I was so mad. The other stupid thing I did was to purchase a tray of about 8 cookies for my class to share with me. They were thick, heavy, bland cookies. I like my cookies to have some crunch to them. These had none. Might have well been pudding. SO! I'm N O T going back. If their service was better, staff friendlier, that might entice me.
What's puzzling, though, is that I go to The Fresh Market in Dunwoody all the time and I LOVE them! They've got an outstanding bakery, and really go out of their way to help you find your way around, answer any questions you might have and give you a generally pleasant shopping experience.
At the Bucked location, they make you work hard to ask a question, to make yourself visible in the first place and then to get an answer delivered politely is tough, too. On opening day at Buckhead, I told the deli guy at the counter, "I'm so glad you're here! I work across the street at PC and am looking forward to coming here often for lunch." The response I get from him is a monologue of what he really wants to do with his life and how he's looking for a career change and he wants to get out of the food service industry and how can he apply for classes at Portfolio Center. Whoa. "Um, I think I'll go to Publix instead, thanks."
~:T H E * T H I N G:~ For all you bloggers who are falling asleep on AnnePages due to lack of posts... here's an update. NO, it's not my belly. That'll come this weekend. But check this creepy image out. Can you see my blue veins? By the time I'm ready to go into labor, there will be 50% MORE blood pumping through my body. Now - there's already much more - and you can see it in my chest. My pulse is stronger and more rapid also. I can make the headboard knock against the wall in our bedroom just with my obnoxious pulse. Weird, huh? 







So now you guys know I have not just let myself go and gotten FAT! For the first time in my life, I have boobs - thank God in heaven I have boobs! Sorry - don't have a picture for that one. And Bjorn will have a little sister or brother! And God has been good to us! And Spring is here! Remember those little seeds I tried to plant in the little indoor greenhouse kit? They DIED. Who cares - I've got something better growing in my belly. 
~:I S * I T * M E ?: ~ Ahh, the hosts of Atlanta's Classic Radio. Is it me? Or does the radio voice of FM 90.1 WABE'S Wanda Yang Temko sound like she's ripping the upholstery off the seat of her chair with her asshole? Listening to her makes me extremely nervous and uptight. I have to admit that she was much more uptight when she first came to the station in 2002.
Sadly, now the affected voice of Lois Reitzes (who sounds like she's speaking with cotton balls in her cheeks and is guided by a broken metronome) isn't the only voice that makes me cringe. God help me.
I'd have to say that after all this needling complaining, my favorite radio personality on WABE is H. Johnson - Saturday night's host of Jazz Classics. What a character and what energy and what fun to listen to him on a Saturday night with friends. Even though you are guaranteed to be interrupted by his energetic comments for the first 2 minutes of each piece, you're sure to be entertained by a truly genuine and upbeat voice. The classics don't have to be boring, people.

