Religion-- BEWARE!

Took this test at Beliefnet.com that tells you what organized religions your beliefs most closely match. I thought the results were interesting. Here is what it had to say about me:

The top score on the list below represents the faith that Belief-O-Matic, in its less than infinite wisdom, thinks most closely matches your beliefs. However, even a score of 100% does not mean that your views are all shared by this faith, or vice versa.

Belief-O-Matic then lists another 26 faiths in order of how much they have in common with your professed beliefs. The higher a faith appears on this list, the more closely it aligns with your thinking.

Your Results:
1. Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons) (100%)
2. Jehovah's Witness (90%)
3. Mainline to Conservative Christian/Protestant (80%)
4. Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestants (78%)
5. Bahá'í Faith (74%)
6. Orthodox Judaism (63%)
7. Christian Science (Church of Christ, Scientist) (58%)
8. Sikhism (56%)
9. Eastern Orthodox (54%)
10. Roman Catholic (54%)
11. Orthodox Quaker (48%)
12. Islam (47%)
13. Liberal Quakers (45%)
14. Reform Judaism (45%)
15. Seventh Day Adventist (45%)
16. Hinduism (43%)
17. Unitarian Universalism (36%)
18. New Thought (33%)
19. Jainism (30%)
20. Theravada Buddhism (30%)
21. Mahayana Buddhism (28%)
22. Neo-Pagan (26%)
23. Scientology (25%)
24. New Age (22%)
25. Secular Humanism (16%)
26. Nontheist (14%)
27. Taoism (11%)

Walk a mile in my shoes

Today's Cereal: Rice Chex and Count Chocula
Current Mood: Worn out!

Before it was even 9:00 I had walked a mile this morning. That is really, really good considering my idea of strenuous exercise is sweeping the kitchen floor.

I've actually been doing this for several weeks now (though usually not so early-- but it's getting too hot later in the day!). I made the "mistake" of introducing a morning walk into The Boy's routine, and now he won't let me skip a day without going for a walk. And one trip around the block won't suffice; no, not for This Boy. So we end up walking a mile before I am completely worn out and my disgustingly stretched-out belly muscles are just aching. It used to make me really bitter and mad that I had to do this everyday to appease The Boy, but now I am looking at it differently: I have the physical equivalent of a marathon coming up in 7 weeks or so-- If I can't leisurely walk a mile, how am I going to give birth? So now I am looking at it as training. Sure, it still hurts and it still sucks and I'm tired the rest of the day, but it will make things so much easier for my birthing time.

That's what everyone keeps telling me, anyways. They'd better not be lying to me or I will punch them all in the throat. I can do it, you know-- I've been training.

Not even trying

Today’s Cereal: Rice Chex
Current Mood: Unmotivated

Sarah asked me if I liked the New Star Wars. While I think of a response, why don’t you get to know me better?


10 Random things I like:
Skittles
Driving fast with U2 playing loud
The Internet
Simpsons (but not the last few seasons—it’s not funny anymore, it’s just gotten weird)
Compliments
Honeybutter
Sleeping in
The Boy’s laugh
My husband’s goatee
Soft, warm cookies

10 Random things I don’t like:
People who talk too much
People who touch me (unless I know you well)
The nasty “woman-smell” of the office bathroom (25 women share that bathroom…)
Undercooked meat
Being in an elevator with other people
People talking to me stall-to-stall while I am going to the bathroom.
Dirt under my fingernails
Rap
Wind blowing my hair
Filing

Everyone is an idiot. Don't talk to me.

Today's cereal: Rice Chex and Multi-Grain Cheerios
Current mood: Don't touch me. Don't even look at me.

I have been a bit lazy with my blog of late, and I apologize. Really, nothing has happened that I have considered blog-worthy. So today I will just bitch and moan.

I am officially 32 weeks along now. That means that I only have 8 more weeks to go! (although in reality I really only have 6 or 7 weeks to go...) Time has really, REALLY flown by, and I am feeling overwhelmed at all the crap I have to do before the baby comes. However, when you live with a 1-year-old, either nothing gets done, or everything you do gets UNdone. My boy is a cutie-poo, but I am getting tired of him. I think I need a cryogenic baby freezer. Then I can pull him out and unthaw him when I am less tired, grumpy, fat, and tired. Does it make me a bad mother for wanting that?

Why do designers of maternity clothes insist on making things with horizontal stripes? Please, I'm already the size of a small dump truck. Can't you do someting to HIDE that, rather than emphasize it? And stop making so much pink. Nobody likes it.

Things NOT to say to a pregnant woman (Things I would like to say in return are in italics):
1) Damn! You're HUGE! (Thank you, Rico Suave. You have won my heart. Let's make out. Retard!)
2) You look beat. (So what you're really saying is, I look like shit?)
3) You look ready to pop! (Actually, dumb-ass, I still have 8 weeks to go. What insensitve thing are you going to say to me in 7 weeks when I'm still around?)
4) Wow, you are carrying that baby really low! (Yes. Yes I am. Now stop looking at my crotch.)
5) Oh, are you having a baby? (Oh, have you had a lobotomy? Don't be an idiot.)
6) Are you STILL here? (No, I'm just a hologram of the real me, who is home nursing my new baby. Can't you see the big H on my forehead?)
7) Geez, you are really getting big... (you too, fatty. Makes you feel good, doesn't it?)

I could go on and on with these. I think I'll start actually writing down the things people say to me. That will be fun.

My last gripe is that I can't sleep because I either have to pee, my back hurts, I'm getting kicked in the hip bone, or it's too damn hot and for some unexplainable reason the husband has turned the fan off. Or my legs are wigging out. This last one is a reecent development, and I don't like it ONE BIT. I will just be drifting off, and then my feet and legs suddenly NEED to move. They ITCH to move. It is SO DAMN ANNOYING!! I was practicing one of my childbirth hypnosis cd's last night and my legs kept doing that. Made it REALLY hard to relax.

The Boy just discovered that he has a belly button. It was the cutest damn thing I have ever seen. So I will retract my wish for a cryogenic baby freezer. For now.

Blood is thicker than a lot of things

Today's Cereal: Honey & Nut Chex
Current Mood: Exhausted

I facilitated another reunion yesterday. It left me in a really good mood (which was promptly destroyed this morning when The Boy started the day off by whining and never stopped...) This reunion was awesome. The birthparents were a married couple who had 8 kids at home already, and just could not afford the one more they were expecting. Very sad that they had to make a hard decision like giving up a child based on money, but it happens a lot. Although both the birthparents have died, I was able to connect my client to her oldest sister, who in turn told all the rest of the siblings. They didn't know about her, so they were shocked to say the least-- but it was a good surprise. They cried with joy, and have begun to welcome her into their large clan. I am so pleased that it went well! My client couldn't stop giggling (she's 50!) after I told her that her sister was going to call her that night. I was thrilled for her.

Aren't you a little short for a stormtrooper?

Today's Cereal: Golden Grahams & Multi-Grain Cheerios
Current Mood: surprisingly upbeat!

First things first. TOTALLY check this out.

Okay, so last week my coworkers were asking me if I was going to see the new Star Wars this Thursday. I am famous around the office for taking the day off to see big movies open. I did it for all the other Star Wars, and for the Lord of the Rings movies (Except for the 2nd one which opened 1 day after Aiden was born. Um, yeah... a little busy for that one.); I did it for the Harry Potters and for Spiderman. It is AWESOME!! I freakin' LOVE going to the first day of big, long-awaited shows. I think I have blogged about this before... there is just so much EXCITEMENT floating around the theater, you can practically smell it. (Depending on the movie, sometimes you actually CAN smell it. Ewww!)

I had actually forgotten that the movie opens this week, but not wanting to tarnish my reputation, I said yes. They asked if I had tickets yet, and when I said no, they all laughed and said, "oh, you probably won't be going then. I hear everything's sold out."

Oh, ye of little faith.

Not to mention little brains. Checked out what's available on Fandango.com on Saturday, and there were still TONS of tickets available. So we're set to go on Thursday at 12:45 with my brother and his wife. I wonder how many people AREN'T taking to chance ot go see it opening day because they think everything's sold out? If you are among that crowd, I suggest you do a little research. It is TOTALLY worth it. When you are sitting in a packed theater and the Lucas Films logo comes up on the screen and the audience goes Ape-shit-- well, there is nothing quite like it. And at the end, when everyone claps. I LOVE it when people clap at the end of a movie. Happens so rarely.

Anyway, my co-workers assuming everything was sold out reminds me of the time when they had released the updated original Star Wars into the theaters. I was going to the Community College at the time, and had met "Ed" in my drawing class. (I really should have known at the time... be wary of ANYONE named Ed.) He seemed like a nice guy; he was interesting to talk to, he OBVIOUSLY liked me, I felt comfortable with him, and Kitt was on a mission at the time and I was lonely. So I went out with him several times. And then I realized that he was, in fact, an idiot-loser-drop out with little art talent and even less knowledge of U2, despite his claim of being a "huge fan".

The first time I went out with him though, was to a party. He was a big-time Star Wars geek, and was really excited about seeing the digitally remastered version when it came out. But because he was an idiot-loser-drop out, he didn't look into getting tickets until it was too late. So he threw together a last-minute Star Wars party where we were going to watch all three original movies. All his friends were set to come, lots of them were bringing MORE people-- it was gonna be a "rockin' good time". He invited me, and like I said, I was lonely. So I went.

It was a little odd when I pulled up to his parents' house (yup, he was living at home) and there were no cars parked out front. It was even odder when I went inside and there was no one there but Ed. It turns out that all of Ed's "friends" were able to get tickets to the show after all. I was THE ONLY PERSON who showed up. It was pretty lame watching Star Wars all night with Ed, his parents, and his little sister, knowing that had I been less of a loser myself I could be at the theater. Ed’s parents REALLY liked me, though, because I was a nice girl. Apparently their idiot-loser-drop out son didn’t bring home very many nice girls. I bet they weren’t surprised when I stopped coming around.

No more loser-ness for me, though! I’ve got my tickets, and I will be there Thursday standing in line with all the other...um...okay, losers who took the day off to go see a geek movie.

It’s gonna be a rockin’ good time!

Game of Tag

Today's Cereal: Corn Pops
Current Mood: Sleeeeeepy

I’ve been tagged by Sarah.
I am supposed to complete 5 of the sentences below, and tag at least one other blogger I know to do the same. Here we go:

If I could be a scientist...
If I could be a farmer...
If I could be a musician...
If I could be a doctor...
If I could be a painter...
If I could be a gardener...
If I could be a missionary...
If I could be a chef...
If I could be an architect...
If I could be a linguist...
If I could be a psychologist...
If I could be a librarian...
If I could be a lawyer...
If I could be an inn-keeper...
If I could be an athlete...
If I could be a professor...
If I could be a writer...
If I could be a llama rider...
If I could be a bonnie pirate...
If I could be an astronaut...
If I could be a world famous blogger...
If I could be a justice on any one court in the world...
If I could be married to any current famous political figure...
If I could be a dog trainer...

If I could be an inn-keeper I would own a hotel on St. Croix with my family. Dad would do all the repairs, Mom and I would be housekeeping and concierge, Kitt would be the cook, Jana would tend bar, and Bryan would be the server/host. We’d have nice rooms that you don’t have to be a bajillionaire to stay in (unlike so many other Virgin Islands properties), and we would specialize in deals and help for people who are there to do genealogy research. AND we would serve homemade ice cream. A different flavor every night.

There’s a backstory to this—when Kitt and I and the Parents went to St. Croix a couple of years ago, we stayed in a crappy-ass hotel that had SO much potential. The woman who ran it was as crazy as they come, and just didn’t know what she was sitting on. While we were staying there, mom took a pretty bad fall down the stairs (THAT is a story for a whole other post…). We joked afterwards about how mom should sue the hotel, and then we’d own it. We dreamed about how we would all live there and what we’d do with the place…. Ah, St. Croix….

If I could be a painter I would illustrate children’s books. I would have my own studio filled with plants, places for my kitties to hang out, and an “inspiration corner”.

If I could be a chef I would work for Kellogs or Post or something, and come up with new recipes for cold cereal. I think it would be good to have Watchamacallit Cereal (like the candy bar, you know?). It would be like rice krispies flavored with chocolate and peanut butter (much like the Reese’s Puffs—ever had those?), and there would be chunks of krispies stuck together with caramel-y stuff. Mmmmm.

If I could be a doctor I’d be an obstetrician, and I would educate women about how their bodies were meant to give birth and knew how to do it naturally without the medical profession telling them how it is supposed to be done. I would educate them about the benefits of having an intervention-free birthing. Unless it was medically necessary, I would never induce labor, never give drugs to speed up labor, rarely ask women to give birth on their backs, and I would encourage every woman that they can do it without drugs.

If I could be a bonnie pirate I’d totally do it with Johnny Depp.


Dear Bryan—Tag, you’re it!

Decisions, decisions.

Today's Cereal: Cocoa Puffs
Current Mood: Pensive

I am faced today with one of those major, life-altering decisions. I HATE making decisions. And the bigger they are, the worse they are. I've never been one of those people who can see where they are going in life and what route they should take to get there. That's part of the reason I never got a degree-- I could never decide what to get and then what to do with it.

I'm so afraid of making the WRONG decision that it cripples me. I just want to be taken care of. Is that so much to ask?


I also have to make a reunion call today. For those who don't know me, I work part-time at an adoption agency. I run the search & reunion program, for adopted persons and birthmothers who are looking to reunite with the family they lost through adoption. It is so much fun, but SO scary. While finding who I am looking for can be hard, the hardest part is making the first call. YOU NEVER KNOW HOW THEY WILL REACT!! Especially when you call a birthmother. They might not have told their husband and children about the adoption. They might be ecstatic. They might swear at you and tell you never to contact them again. But usually, they cry.

It is a job full of joy because I get to help people discover a piece of themselves; but for me it is also a very difficult job because I get SO attached to my clients. If they are rejected for a reunion, I feel it deeply too. I have shed so many tears over the cases I work on! Fortunately I have only been told no twice. Both times I wanted to give it up. But I am glad I didn't! I get a huge thrill out of the search, and an even bigger thrill when the reunion turns out well. There is nothing like the feeling of knowing I helped someone who wanted it so badly.

I am not sure how today's case will turn out. I usually have a gut feeling about it; but with this one it is not a good or bad feeling... just... a feeling that it will all work out like it is supposed to. Whatever that means. Wish me luck!

Like a freakin' duck!

Today's Cereal: FrankenBerry and Cheerios
Current Mood: Irritated at EVERYTHING

First of all, I am super-annoyed that for some reason my profile and links aren't showing up on my blog anymore. Is it just my computer, or can you all see them okay? I can't find any reason why this is happening; but we all know and love how "great" Blogger is.


So the weekend was pretty uneventful. After The Boy and I were sick all week, the Hubby finally got it, too. But I think the stench of throw up is finally clearing out of our house. The highlight of last week, aside from peeing myself while throwing up, was when we all finally felt good enough to go grocery shopping on Friday.

And then my husband told me, after watching me walk down the aisle, that I have started "waddling".

Great.

But speaking of the grocery store, I freakin' love mine. Sure, they don't always have the Lipton Asian Sidedishes that are so yummy (in a pre-packaged, boil-for-10-minutes-and-serve kind of way), and they started glazing the maple bars IN ADDITION TO the maple frosting (WTF? As if maple frosting isn't sweet enough?); but I love my grocery store because they have "Expectant Mother Parking". Right up front. No, RIGHT up front!

It kicks so much ass. Okay Seriously wrote a post about this some time ago, and I generally agreed with her. But now that I am at a point where it is obvious I'm pregnant (i.e., Waddling), I don't feel weird AT ALL about using these parking spots. In fact, I now get really pissed off if I see someone parking there who is A) Not pregnant, B) Less pregnant than me, or C) a man. (Watch it, man! Your beer gut is NOT a baby, no matter how much you nurse it!) The other day I gave the evil eye to a couple of women who parked there, but were questionably pregnant. (Either one of them might have been, but they were both ginormously fat so you wouldn't have known it anyways.) I stuck out my waddle-causing belly as far as it would go as I went past them, hoping that they would feel guilty for making me waddle 50 extra feet (Okay, so I'm pretty sensitive about the fact that I waddle! Cut me some slack!). They didn't appear to notice. No one who deserves it ever does.


So in other news, my Great-Aunt Becky is coming this week for nearly two weeks. I haven't seen her for just about two years now. It will be fun to see her. Although she will probably disapprove of many things that I am or am not doing. But that's what little old aunties are for, right?

I am also looking for ways to bring in more income (that don't include whoring myself out. Sorry). Maybe I will start charging to read palms. Yeah. E-mail me a scan of your palm and I will read it for you for 3 bucks.