Skinny Pregnant Cow

I went to Sarah's baby shower today, and she came and sat in the corner with me and Stu and Jen. Stu gently poked her belly, trying to get a kick.

"The baby is bored with you." I quipped.

"Give me your clothes pin!" said Jen, and plucked mine off the hem of my shirt.

Everyone got a clothes pin when the came in. If you said the word "baby", you lost it to whoever caught you. It's nearly impossible to not say "baby" at a baby shower. I got a second one and lost it again in about 20 seconds.

Sarah looks insanely gorgeous. I've decided I hate her. From the back, she looks perfect, and from the front she looks perfect, with a perfectly round, stretch-mark free belly. Aside from "a few aches and pains", she feels fine, and does her pre-natal yoga every day. I totally hate her. (Except I totally love her).

Jen and Stu came over later, and watched Tristan & Isolde. It's ok, but not that great. We wanted more sadness and sex, and less violence and sissy heroes. We're GIRLS, dammit!

Then we had ice cream and danced. I heard a song on the end of American Idol the other day, and because I get obsessive about weird little things sometimes, I scoured the internets until I found out who played it. If you're ever all "oh em gee! my day is teh suxors and i need to dance", try Make Me Smile (Come Up and See Me) by Steve Harley and the Cockney Rebel. It's pretty "teh good".