Snapshots

— Cold low grey sky. Lovin’ it.

— Is it weird that I am continuously in love with my apartment now? My love for it grows. I spent the day puttering.

— My friend Allison is coming over tonight. I’m excited. She’s bringing Capote. She’s never been to my apartment, so I can’t wait to … yet again … have a GUEST!!!

— Read the first chapter of The Master and Margarita – keeping with the Stalinist theme in Chez Sheila … and found the first chapter to be one of the most terrifying things I have ever read. It reminds me of some of the scariest of Poe’s stories. It’s EERIE. You can tell by the first chapter that this is not just a good book, but an important book. A scary book. A book that NOBODY at that time would have wanted to read. Too threatening. Good for him. I will add it to my growing list of books I am juggling.

— And my last snapshot is just a thought: You know, I have baby dreams like every other woman. I dream of finding a mate, I dream of getting married, and I also dream of having a baby. It is a dear dream of mine – my future child. But until a couple of days ago, I did not realize that that was only PART of my dream. I was missing a VERY IMPORTANT ELEMENT of that procreation dream. What element, you ask? Here it is, the missing piece of the dear dream: In the very last days of my pregnancy – it is my dream to go hang out at a Yahoo Corporate event, and be jostled by a bunch of camera-wielding web-geeks. I yearn, as my ballooning uterus presses on my bladder more and more with every passing minute, to NOT spend my days decorating the nursery, or talking on the phone obsessively with my sisters, my mom, my friends who have had kids … I don’t yearn to buy little outfits, I don’t yearn to coo over little toys that the wee baby will one day play with, I don’t yearn to lose myself in anticipation for the big event. I yearn to be shuffled out onto a stage far from my home like a prized turkey, and make stupid “Hi, how are you” conversation with people I care NOTHING about, people who take pictures of me with their cell phones and post them all over the Internet, people who gawk at me like I’m a freak-show. THAT is what I call a relaxing third trimester moment. No better time than the last couple weeks before I deliver to go to a huge corporate event on the arm of my grinning chimp-monkey NOT-HUSBAND Xenu-loving dark-lord jagoff.