Weekiversary Celebrating

O.K., I admit it, I have a rich inner life (literally, in fact, but in this case, I refer to the metaphoric). Sadly, the main manifestations of my inner life are things like a penchant for naming inanimate objects (like my thesis, for example). On a more useful note, it also enables to me to find interest in even the most mundane things, like pregnancy. Yes, you may say what you want about the joys of growing a new life, the miracle of birth, and I'll believe all that you say, but at this point, nothing much is happening. I'm slowly expanding, but not yet so much that my condition is obvious (at least not to anyone who doesn't know already). My dashboard pregnancy countdown widget (yes, I have a pregnancy countdown widget) shows well over 150 days left, and this, quite frankly, bores me just to think about it.

The only solution is to celebrate each and every single mundane workaday moment of this experience. Particularly on Fridays, when I find that I slowly creep over into the next week of pregnancy (as in, 'I'm now in my xth week'). Thor and I have been commemorating Weekiversary for something around 10 weeks now, and it's become a serious habit. We each get a present, normally something small, almost always something edible (past items include ginger tea, Italian candies, sweet potatoes, a jar of koorma sauce and alarmingly large bag of basmati rice, a single-serving container of sake). We often cook up a special dinner. For today's Weekiversary, Thor's taking me out to the movies, and I'm then taking Thor out to dinner.

It just seems like an idea that should be shared with the rest of the world, insofar as the readership of this blog represents the whole world (which it does, depending on how you define things). So, Happy Weekiversary! Go out and buy yourself something nice...not so nice that you won't be able to then get yourself something for next week, maybe some nice food or drink that you can love and cherish, at least for as long as it takes to consume it. And then let me know what you got and how it was.

*Photo: This statue girl is in The Hague, pointing at the prime minister's office. Or maybe at something else. I think she is saying something like, 'Look at that woman with the gigantic stomach!', or possibly, 'Hey, it's Weekiversary. Maybe I'll go over there and buy some nice treat to carry home in this basket.'*

Weekend in Europe, Part 4: Holland

It's hard to believe that I haven't posted a 'Weekend in Europe' themed post in almost two years. It's time to remedy that now that I've finally connected camera to computer and seen the photographic evidence that I was, in fact, in Holland just a few short days ago. Specifically in South Holland. Dutch tour guide/gracious hostess Annemarie provided a perfect balance between relaxing and sightseeing, and more importantly, put up with me continuously for two whole days. For which she deserves public acclaim, and possibly a medal of valor.


Friday evening through to Sunday mid-morning were spent in The Hague, where Annemarie currently lives and works. I wasn't sure what to expect from The Hague, and am pleased to report that I was impressed. It has all that I would want from a city: good restaurants (such as this one, inside a big church...no, actually inside The Big Church), cool museums, irregular rooflines.


As seems to be my habit these days, I don't have many photos of what we actually did, but if you have a day to spend here, I'd recommend doing exactly the same as us. Hightlights were the Panorama Mesdag, an 1881 painted view of Scheveningen, a beach area of the city. In counterpoint, that evening was spent consuming pancakes in a restaurant on the Scheveningen pier (with view to the raging North Sea in all it's wintery majesty, imposing even in the dark). The Escher Museum as well, a must see for any fans, as pretty much his whole portfolio is here, along with a floor of do it yourself exploration of Escheresque optical illusions and visual games. Oh, and of course, don't forget to check out Harry Potter's office (the round tower in the middle of the above photo).


We decided to spend some of Sunday in nearby Delft, reknowned for its canal-lined streets, and its old and new churches. We were not disappointed by the overall level of cuteness. We headed straight from the railway station to the Old Church. Which was impressive on the outside, but was for some reason closed to tourists.


Undaunted, we made our way over to the New Church. Which was closed to tourists (closed on Sunday apparently, which seems somehow unexpected). After admiring Market Square (in the photo below), and determining that most shops were closed, we sadly headed back to the station. All in all, we lasted about an hour. I for one would like to go back sometime, not on a Sunday.


Which brought us to Leiden. Leiden is a beautiful city, of that I have no doubt...but we were here mainly for the shops being open on a Sunday. And it was some pretty good shopping, though I do feel I've neglected the town itself, its museums (the Natural History Museum seemed like it would be particularly interesting), botanical gardens. But I suppose I can come back when I am next in Delft.


And that ends this virtual tour. All inclusive...except for the stroopwafels. And the windmills. And the mashed potatoes. And the krokets. And...actually, I'd suggest just going there and experiencing it all yourself. It'll be worth it, I promise.

Brain Freeze

I do wonder, as the month of November slowly winds down, if there are any people doing NaBloPoMo who are creating blog posts which read, in their entirety, things like 'Here's the post for today,' or 'One more down, two more to go.' It seems slightly tempting to me, as I seem to be suffering from brain freeze (not the kind you get by drinking your Slurpee too fast, but a more literal kind). Everything is stalled out. It's all very Escher-esque, a bit of climbing a staircase for eternity and never actually getting anywhere.

Actually, to reference a post from earlier this month, everything is grey. And while grey is still my favorite color, it may be time to add some splashes of real color to the mix. How best to do this? I welcome all suggestions.

*One of the things I got to see this past weekend at the Escher museum in the Hague. And yes, I realize that I'd have something specific to blog about, if I'd just find the cord to hook up my camera to my computer so I could download my Holland photos.*

On being tired

The problem with starting with a title like that is that, in order to write something meaningful, one needs a certain amount of alertness. Which I do not exactly have at the moment. So, here are the thoughts running through my head, in no particular order. And, no, I don't believe they are in any way connected to each other, or even to reality.

1) Some synapse in my brain has snapped, and as a result food tastes so much more real and decadent and luxurious than it did before. I hope this sensation lasts beyond May, but it probably won't.

2) I am trying to pack in as many teaching hours as possible into the next 3 weeks, in order to get as many of my classes finished before Christmas (or at least by the middle of January), so that I can take on as much work as possible as early as possible in January, so that I can teach all the way through all of those classes before going on leave. Perhaps this is a case of trying too hard to be helpful. This morning, I had 3 Fridays free in December. Now, several hours later, I only have 1. Yep, trying too hard, that's me.

3) Last night, I sent out a cry for help, in the form of ice cream, chocolate with pieces of things in it. Thor responded with a dash to the store (it was 10 minutes before closing) and returned with a carton of Ben & Jerry's. The dilemma: Should I be simply appreciative of the gesture, or more annoyed that it was his repeated references to ice cream over the previous two days that led to the craving in the first place. Answer: I'm appreciative. It was damn good ice cream (see item #1 for more details).

4) I keep saving this post as a draft, and opening a new post window, so that I can write about something real, like with a topic or something. Only to realize that I can't do it at the moment, so then I come back to this one.

5) Oh, and syrup waffles (stroopwafels in Dutch). I can't believe I'd never had one before. But now, I have had lots, including freshly made large ones. They're delicious (back to item #1 again). I promise photographic proof, as well as other visual tidbits from Holland, as soon as I'm awake enough to connect my camera to my computer.

Snow, anyone?

I never realized before this morning how difficult it is to drive in the dark on uncleared snowy roads. But now I know. It's tough. Especially the uncleared snowy road part. It's amazing I made it to work at all, much less on time, what with missing a turn out on the freeway because I couldn't tell where the turn-out actually was, and then having to cut back throught the next town, where I attempted to find my way to a certain roundabout, only managing to realize where said roundabout was about half a block after passing it by. Good thing this was all before 7 in the morning, so no traffic to add to my confusion. Or maybe it would have been better with some more cars to follow.

The strange thing was the timing of the snow. When I got back from my weekend getaway at close to midnight yesterday, it wasn't snowing at all. This morning, it had clearly snowed a lot, big white fluffy drifts on the street and all the cars. As I was quickly pushing the snow off of the windows of my car before setting off, I found myself in a sudden flurry. Which made finding the right roads all the more difficult. However, after several minutes of driving (and finding my way back to the road I should have been on in the first place), it seemed not to be snowing at all anymore. The closer I got to work, the less evidence of snow there was...at work, there were just a few traces of snow on the grassy areas, nothing more. Which isn't surprising, as I did travel a bit to get there. However, when I got back home, about 4 hours after having left, there was no evidence of any snow having been here, either. Not even on the grass. Not even on the roofs. It looked like maybe it had just been raining a bit. Leaving me to wonder, was it just my imagination all along?

More places I might take you if you visit me: Odense

A week or so after our drip to Dragør, Annemarie and I went a bit farther afield, to the neighboring island of Funen, and it's main city, Odense.


Odense's main claim to fame is as the birthplace of H. C. Andersen, famed as a writer of fairy tales, along with multiple other lesser-known talents (poetry, paper-cutting, theater come to mind). And though he didn't live his whole life here by any means, he's everywhere in this town, starting from a sculpture across from the train station, where a trio of H. C. Andersen figures play a mystical game of twister surrounded by a variety of motifs from H. C.'s original stories.


Of course, there are other things in town besides the fairy tales, but I, at least signed up for the journey in order to go to the H. C. Andersen Museum, in what may or may not have been the building in which he was born. O.K., truth be told, I used to work in Fredericia, which is on the other side of the island of Funen from Zealand, the island where one can find Copenhagen, and my house. Which is to say that I passed through Odense multiple times a week for many months...without ever leaving the train there. And it seemed time to see what I had been missing. And I was, in fact, missing lots of H. C. Andersen imagery.


Even Hans Christian himself is there, waiting outside of a big hotel, always ready to talk to visitors. Here he is schmoozing with Annemarie. I got to schmooze with him as well, but we'll save that photo for another day, shall we? I have the idea that he is sitting there still, waiting for you to visit me, so that we can together make the pilgrimage to pay homage to the man directly, where you and he can sit a spell and converse.

Places I might take you if you visit me: Dragør

This weekend I am away, enjoying a delightful weekend break with a delightful friend. Which means that I won't have so much time to blog. Which isn't to say that I would dream of stopping with the daily blog posting. It just means I get to work a bit in advance. As this weekend is an Annemarie weekend, I'm posting with this theme, each day a post about a different place where Annemarie and I were over the summer...you know, that time of year with sun and warmth.


For this day trip, we chose a leisurely bike ride to the coastal town of Dragør . Getting there was relatively straightforward if a bit boring, taking us a bit less than an hour. To get back, we ended up taking a slightly more scenic route than we had perhaps intended, lasting well over 2 hours, basically circling the island of Amager. I wouldn't recommend it, except maybe I would; it was very picturesque (though the actual pictures turned out a bit blurry...just imagine fields with cows, and the vague outline of water in the far distance).


You don't have to wander far from Copenhagen to get to total countryside, with farms and horses, and just past those farms is Dragør, right by the sound, complete with view to Sweden. It has been in the past a fishing town, but is more a tourist town nowadays, not a place to see a lot of sites, but more to hang out in a downtown cafe and watch the other tourists. Oh, and there is also a fort.


After exploring the fort (such as there is to explore...but the view from the top is worth the climb), and once you've had your fill of people watching, then it's all about getting lost (well, sort of...it's not that big a town) in the narrow residential streets. It's very quaint, with bright buildings and just typical small-down Denmark.


We were also there in the middle of flower season. Brilliant colors, and even a butterfly or two. If you visit in the winter, I can't guarantee the flowers, but I can pretty much guarantee the quaint Danish charm.

When to blog when there's no time to blog

One thing that is becoming very clear to me this month is that, no matter how busy I am, I can always find some time to blog. Except that there must always be exceptions. For me, that exception is today, as i find myself going from work almost directly to the airport for a glamorous weekend getaway (with a 2-minute stopover at home to pack and blog).

So, instead of a thought-out blog post, I leave you with merely a question. When do you find time to blog? And what do you do to make time to blog, when there seemingly is none?

*When given the choice between travel and blogging, I always have to think awhile. And then travel normally wins. But this photo is proof that at least I'll be able to get back home after my trip.*

Happy Thanksgiving!

This Thanksgiving greeting is being given to you by someone who spent almost the whole of the month convinced that Thanksgiving was next week. Only after seeing some posts in honor of the occasion earlier this week did it hit me. Today is actually the 4th Thursday in the month (I had to really sit down and do the math on this one, 'cause it seemed pretty early to me), and therefore...Thanksgiving.

It's a sign of how expat I have become that I'm so out of tune with this. A couple of years ago, I blogged about how I had tried to keep the Thanksgiving spirit alive wherever I was living, because it is in fact my favorite holiday. But clearly it was already too late. Last year I didn't do anything for it, not even a ceremonial blog post. This evening I will be dining with Thor and select family, but I've been told that the menu is hamburger. To be precise, it's fresh free-range hamburger, actually...the result of some shady meat-buying deal of the sort which apparently happens a lot in Denmark around this time of year, and which will happen for us this afternoon (actually for the second time...the first time leaving us with some obscene amount of lamb parts in the freezer...which would be more exciting for me if I actually liked lamb). I wasn't in on the original dealing, but I imagine something on the lines of 'Hey, you know my cousin's friend's daughter's co-worker at the bank...did you know her uncle in Jutland raises his own calves/goats/chickens/ducks? He'll be slaughtering some of them, cutting them up, and then selling the pieces from the back of a van from all sorts of obscure places all around Denmark...wanna go in on a cow/goat/chicken/duck with me? We can pick it up between the hours of 4:36 and 5:12 at the following location....'

So, anyway, Thanksgiving hamburger. It will be fun, to chat with the folks and such. But I do wonder, is this the Thanksgiving I want? For now it clearly is. But maybe it's time to start thinking about that whole 'happy family at Thanksgiving' thing. The reason that it's still my favorite holiday was because it was a tradition that we followed. Never with too many people, not too hyped up, but just really nice. It's with this holiday that I realize that becoming a mother means setting traditions for the family (yes, I know, Thor will be in on this as well...but in my life, it was my mom who had this role, and I feel it's something I'd like to try out). Leading to the question, is this a tradition I want? I suspect that the answer is yes. I know Thor and his family and his friends would be more than happy to participate in an exotic American holiday based solely around food and drink. But at the same time, I'm not too upset at not cooking up a turkey and all the fixings this year.

*Photo: of course, Norman Rockwell's Freedom from Want. I'd give one link for it, but it seems to be everywhere!*

You so wish you were having dinner at my place

Sometimes, a meal just comes together so perfectly, that it leaves nothing else to blog about. Or think about. Or feel. I can't stop eating it to take a photo of it. Too bad. It will almost certainly give me terrible heartburn. So worth it.

Tofu. Mushrooms. Snow peas. Slices of ginger. Stir-fried with a dash of Japanese soy sauce. Served over rice. Normally, I know you don't care what I am having for dinner, but of course this time, you'll make a well-deserved exception.

I'm now off to have a savory cup of ginger tea for dessert. Really, it doesn't get any better than this.

Apparently, I should be having cravings

In my now-daily search for what to blog about, I consulted with local kimananda expert Thor. His advice was to make a post which was a cry for help, to ask all of you kind readers to aid me in gaining real pregnancy cravings and symptoms.

Now I think I have had cravings, sort of. First, I had a longing to slice bananas on my morning cereal. This lasted through a couple of small bunches, spread out over a week or so. Then it was spinach (salad, not cream of). This didn't last so long as it's hard to find here, and sort of expensive, but I did manage to make a meal or two which included a side salad. Then of course, the brown cheese...which I've now procured, and it's been wonderful so far. But apparently, I should be eating only one type of food at a time, preferably one that is horrifically bad for me, like molasses covered chocolate, or stereotypical, like pickles and ice cream.

As for symptoms, I knew when I was having a symptom free first trimester that it was too good to last. And I was proven right when it started. The heartburn, I mean. At almost all times of day or night, after seemingly any meal, or after not eating, or after drinking, or after not drinking. Really, don't help me get any symptoms, as this one is just fine (and will apparently get worse as my belly continues to swell to whale proportions).

So, clearly what I need is a craving for something which will help with the heartburn. I'm trying to get myself into drinking lots of milk, and it's sort of working. As a craving. In terms of making me feel better, not so much. Really, the trick is to just find some Tums in Denmark. To help with the heartburn and get some extra calcium.

*Photo credit: http://www.dohm.net/pages/what_5.htm*

It's all about the cheese

I keep hearing references to Norwegian brown cheese (which I have learned to call gedeost, like the true Dane that I am), and it's giving me a bit of a craving. After the stores have closed, which is too bad, as I could otherwise go across the street and buy some right now. Not in nifty slices like in the photo, but the same brand anyway. Actually, like the red package, just not in slices.

It's odd stuff, this gedeost. The first time I tried it, it reminded me somehow of the cheese which comes in the little plastic container part of the cheese and crackers. I still have this association, and I still don't know why. The taste is completely different, the texture is not totally the same, and of course the levels of junk-foodiness...totally different. But yet, there is something the same (and I've introduced people to it who've somehow agreed with me, though again not for any reason that they could quite put into words). I couldn't decide if I liked it or not. But I didn't not like it. The second time, I liked it a bit more. At some indefinable point, I became hooked.

So, at this point, I'm considering going to sleep, so that when I wake up tomorrow, I can go out and buy some. Totally disregarding the fact that I'll be leaving for work before the supermarket opens. Disregarding the fact that I was considering going to bed before (combination of mood swings, indigestion, and general feeling of blah leaving me with the idea that I might as well retire for the evening). Because these things are not important. What is important is the brown cheese.

*Sliced cheese long since devoured; one of last year's best Christmas treats, from a Norwegian woman who really knows how to give good presents.*

We interrupt this blog for a Tristino update

Whenever I can't get a project off the ground (which is to say, several times in the life of any project I decide to start), I think of history. According to my mother at least, I could never get anything going at the normal time. I'd start something, decide I could do things more easily some other way, and that would be it for the new thing. For a while, until I'd spontaneously just do whatever it was I had tried to do before, without any major problems. So, for example I started walking at some point, decided that crawling was far more efficient, and stopped walking...until the day when I just started walking like I had always known how to do it. This seems to be the story of my life.

It's been how I've learned languages, more or less, the way I settle into new countries, the way I make new friends, everything in fits and starts. And, apparently, it's the way I work academically. Which is a very roundabout way of saying that I've finally gotten a semblance of a draft proposal together. It's only taken months, I know. For those who aren't privy to my inner angst (and trust me, you don't really want to hear my inner angst, as it's somewhat repetitive), this won't mean much. But those who are in the know will know what a big deal this is. It's still not done, but it's ready to send out to select corners of the world to get feedback. It's done enough that I can almost see doing a PhD based on the ideas in it. So, in short, hallelujah! Now, I return you to your normally scheduled blog while I go back and try to figure out what my methodology might be.

*Tristino in his younger days, now that tiny bit closer to being reborn.*

The meaning of blog

In my now daily quest for what to blog about, the following issues tend to arise.

It's clear that I want to blog about experiences that are in my life; however, I find it hard to count something as a blog-worthy experience if I haven't taken photos of it, for whatever reason. For example, just today, I was at a brilliant brunch at Thor's mom's house; Thor and I went shopping for baby things (where I became the proud owner of my first sling), we made a brilliant dinner...nay, feast, ending with the most beautiful sweet potato pie imaginable. Yet, there are no photos, and without photos, I don't feel that I can make a full post out of any of these things.

Likewise, there is the question of timeliness. Which is to say, that even if there is a topic I want to write about, I feel I can't do so unless it's within a day or two of the original event or inspiration. So, I took several day trips over the spring and summer (with photos, even), but they were a long time ago, and may never see themselves in print, here.

On a more minor level, there's the question of what counts as a valid blog topic. Is the mundane o.k., or the simple? Or do I need to come up with deep thoughts, evidence of writing talent, with each post? Perhaps this is related to my thoughts a few days ago about what it means to be a good writer. The truth as I expressed it then was that writing is a very subjective process, rather than a quest to give every word meaning. Yet, that truth is hard to follow. It's hard to see a mundane event as blog post worthy.

The question then is, what is the function of this blog? I've never really asked myself that question in any clear way. It just was what it was. And it still is that. But maybe it's time to make it clear also what it isn't. It isn't a blog for deep thoughts (I do plan to start a research blog, for which I will have different standards, but that won't be for deep thoughts either, just more focused thoughts). It isn't journalistic reporting of breaking news, though such reporting isn't prohibited either. And it's not a place where only totally finished thoughts are presented. Freewriting is to be encouraged (and generally has been, but it's nice to make it clear).

There, that feels much better. And as no one reads blogs at the weekend, I'm safe from boring too many people with my manifesto. But if you have made it this far, and you have a blog, I would like to know how you feel about your blog. What is it? And what is it not? Is it something you think about?

When stuffed animals let loose

The purple guy with the shocking red hair is Harry, best known for his job as spokespuppet for DSB (Denmark's state rail). The handsome panda with the motorcycle rally red bandana is the eponymously-named Panda, who will surely get a post of his own someday. I'm not sure when I took this photo, or why. But based on Harry's on-screen persona, it somehow doesn't seem so far off. I'm sure he's a nice puppet, but he's, well, a little up-tight. So it makes sense that when he lets loose, he lets really, really loose.

Harry's been around for several years, hanging out with his non-puppet friend Bahnsen (played by well-known Danish actor Søren Pilmark). They are point-counterpoint, Bahnsen sensibly prefering the train, which is proven always to be faster, cheaper, and generally more efficient, over Harry's pig-headed (puppet-headed?) insistence on the supremacy of his old beat-up car. The two friends do everything together. Over dozens of commercials, they have gone on holiday, played tennis with Bahnsen's parents (both played by Søren Pilmark, revealing an eerily realistic looking talent for playing older women), gone out clubbing. Bahnsen has helped a drunken Harry to take the train home from a Christmas lunch, and has cycled Harry to the train station when his car has been out of commission. Despite all of this, the only person who seems to realize that Harry and Bahnsen are clearly more than just friends is me, or at least no one I've shared my theory with has agreed with me (and some have been quite passionate in their disagreement).

I've long had a crush on Harry, even since I first clued in to the fact that this strange-voiced purple fuzzy creature was a repeating character on television. As I've grown to understand what he's saying (though I still find him a bit difficult), I love him even more. And realized that he's probably a few fibers short of being a full-brained puppet. I realize that I share my love for Harry primarily with elementary school aged Danish children, but I don't care. Harry is everywhere...and it will only take a single trip to a Danish train station to realize that I mean that literally...so there is certainly enough of him to go around.

You can see some of Harry's starring roles here. I really do recommend them all. Find a Danish-speaking friend to help you, as there's some pretty funny wordplay, and interesting use of cultural stereotypes. Or just enjoy the visuals, as I spent so much of my first months in Denmark doing.

(Really Belated) Birthday 43 Things, Part 3

This was the first meme I ever did, way back on my birthday 2 years ago. I repeated it last year, and this year...well, I was in the midst of a not blogging very much phase then and didn't get around to doing it. So, consider it my birthday for purposes of reading this. To get you in the festive mood, this post is accompanied by photos of this year's birthday celebrations. The top photo was my birthday breakfast (without the bread, which was probably warming in the oven). The bottom one shows the path to the breakfast table. The Danish flags you can see indicate that there is a birthday going on.

First the items I have completed from last years list. Actually, I haven't done that many of them, but a few, namely:

27) decide what I would like to do a PhD in. Not that I could quite tell you at the moment what that thing is. But it's the thing I want to do a PhD in anyway.

29) See more of California. Not that there is nothing more to see, but after all my travels this past year, I believe that I've hit all the highlights.

And of course, 41) decide the whole kid/no kid debate before menopause has clearly been sorted.

Which leaves a lot more to be done. Of course there are also several that I'm closer to achieving...I do think I'm more patient (sort of), less procrastinative (in a couple of very small areas), more confident (at times), and with better Danish (actually most of the time, but there are still language exams I want to pass). But none of those are quite where they could be...yet. So they stay. After adding in new goals to replace those which are done (new ones are in bold), the results are....

Before I die, I would like to...
1) climb a mountain.
2) start a successful vegetable garden.
3) continue to improve my Danish.
4/5/6) visit all the continents...at this point, this means South America, Antarctica, and Africa (I was in Morocco, but for less than a day, so it doesn't count).
7) own my own house.
8) have a job where I earn enough that I can afford a mortgage.
9/10/11) have articles or papers published in at least 5 academic journals, 5 large-circulation publications, and the Weekly World News
12) retire before I'm 80.
13) learn how to build websites by building my own.
14) learn how to take professional quality photographs.
15) get a tattoo.
16) make my own cross-stitch designs.
17) learn to meditate.
18) live to see and enjoy my 101st birthday.
19/20) travel around India and China.
21) learn to speak and write Mandarin Chinese.
22) see at least part of the world from a inside a hotair baloon.
23) stop procrastinating so much.
24) get into better physical shape.
25) find a job that I look forward to going to almost every day.
26) complete a PhD.
27) get a PhD position which is worth accepting.
28) radiate self-confidence.
29) learn to scuba dive
30) see more of the US.
31) stop worrying so much about all sorts of things.
32/33) start and successfully run my own business/consulting firm.
34) learn to weave cloth on a floor loom.
35) earn enough money to hire someone to clean my house for me.
36) learn how to network at social events.
37) learn to salsa, and/or samba.
38) learn to make clam chowder.
39/40) read José Saramago and Peter Høeg in the original.
41) survive life with a newborn
42) have more patience with people.
43) appreciate how many things that I wanted to do could not be included here because I've already done them.

Everything is grey

Yes, it is truly a grey day. The snow is gone, and the resulting cold and drizzle...grey. The elections are over, and the results are black (same silly coalition government, which still includes the anti-immigration party) and white (the party I would have voted for if I could vote doubled their mandates), blending to form...grey. My posts feel as if they are getting more and more mundane and...grey. Life is going well, but things are still somewhat stalled and...grey.

Now, before this is accidentally misread, let me add that grey is, and for a very long time (at least since my early teenage years, maybe longer) has been, my favorite color. According to what I remember of my grandmother's old copy of Faber Birren's Color in Your World (now languishing in a box in a shed in California, awaiting eventual rescue), grey is a color that denotes seriousness. I recall reading something about grey being particularly attractive to older people who had put the adventuring and excitement of their younger days behind them. This stuck in my mind when I first read it as I didn't feel particulary old for a 12 year old. Serious, maybe a bit.

This book may have made such a mark because I don't hear much talk of grey otherwise. I have heard that grey is the new black. Thor brings up the point that grey is good for camoflauge if you're hiking in the forest in high altitudes or very rocky areas. It's apparently also good for hiding at night.

I like grey because of how it's nuanced. Its range seems somehow more extreme than that of other colors. Light blue and dark blue are different, of course, but light grey and dark grey are almost black and white. Or perhaps black and white are merely very dark and very light grey? But then again, black and white are not subtle in the way that shades of grey can be.

Grey matches anything and everything. It's the misty day, it's wolves, it's the stormy ocean or the mountains. It's elegant and sophisticated, yet it's granny's home-knit cardigan. It's seriously underappreciated, overshadowed by those extroverts red and orange. It's beautiful.

*photo credit, http://www.castiastone.com/colors/index.php*

When in doubt, do a meme

A short while (rapidly becoming a not so short while), the inimitable Devil Mood tagged me to do a meme where I get to describe qualities of a good writer or of good writing. I must admit, this is a difficult one for me to do for some reason. But it's an important question. And the honest answer is, I haven't the slightest idea.

Although, if I think about it, it seems simple enough. Good writing is the writing that I as a reader want to keep reading. I don't generally bother to finish any book or story that doesn't start off well. Or an academic article for that matter. So, the start is important. After that, there must be something to keep it going. It can be a spectacular plot. It can be a particularly well-formed character. It can be an idea, a concept that makes me curious, or inspires me. But if it only has one of those things, I may finish it, but probably won't feel it as an example of good writing.

As for the question of what is a good writer, that's one I've struggled with since childhood. I have the idea from my past as an English lit major that good writing is where each and every word of the writing is thought out and rich with symbolism. I'm referring here to fiction writing, but the same holds for non-fiction. In addition, I have an idea that 'real' writers are compulsive about their writing, that they must write in order to feel whole, which means that they write both consistently and profusely.

So, to summarize so far, in my definition, good writers write compulsively, and produce deeply meaningful texts. All the time. Which is to say that my definition of what makes a good writer is not very realistic. But I've battled with it nonetheless, and for a long time.

If I were to make a new definition for myself (and I suppose that I am, now), how would it be? To some extent a good writer is someone who strives to produce good writing (see definition of this above). But perhaps it isn't anything that prescriptive. Maybe, just maybe, when one writes, then one is a writer. It seems quite simple really. Writing creates the writer. The perfectionist within me gnaws at me to add to that, but really, I don't think I should. Beyond that, from writer to good writer, may also be subjective. If I like it, then it's good writing to me. If I've written it, and I like it, then I'm a good writer. Facile but true.

As this is a meme, I should tag some fine folk. I don't often tag, but I would like to see what Dok Holocaust has to say for himself. And FourLegged as well. I look forward!

Before and After

Before: Wake up at 5:30am. Leave house just before 6. Catch train, connect to another train, connect to bus, walk 10 minutes to work, for a total of almost 90 minutes transport time. Wait in front of workplace around 20 minutes until someone arrives who can open up the office. Consider reading during wait, but decide it's too cold to take my hands out of my pockets. Spend day feeling slightly tired from earlier than is comfortable wake-up time.

After: Wake up at 6:15am. Leave house at 6:45. Spend 10 minutes scraping snow and ice off the windows, then drive to work, for a total of 50 minutes ice scraping and transport time. Arrive 10 minutes before class. Spend wait in warm car and read. Feel really energetic all day from relatively late wake-up time.

How long will it take before I'm back to driving instead of biking? Or driving instead of walking? It's somehow just like being a Californian again.

Follow the yellow brick road?

A few California trips ago, I was in the market for plane reading, and was gifted with a copy of Wicked. I still haven't read it, though I certainly intend to. Thor read it, and really enjoyed it. But what shocked me was when I asked him how it compared to the original book or the film...and he had no idea what I was talking about. Clearly, the Wizard of Oz hasn't had such an impact on young Danes as on, well, pretty much all Americans. Not being able to find a library copy of the L. Frank Baum book, I found a copy of the 1939 film for us to watch instead. I don't recall Thor being overly impressed, though he didn't dislike it, and he could see the cultural importance of it (in the sense of references to it that he had seen before and not then recognized). I was left with the thought that much of why I like the movie is simply because it's been such a part of my childhood and life. So, it's a classic, but for purely cultural reasons.

Today the Imperial (a single-big-screen cinema in central Copenhagen) ran a one-off Sunday matinee showing of The Wizard of Oz. So, of course we could not miss it. All the elements were there, the songs, the plot twists, the big lines ('I'll get you my pretty...and your little dog, too!'), all things that I grew up with. Now, after seeing the film with Thor, I found myself examining the specifics, and the film as a whole, with the question of how a film that is so dated can still be so interesting.

Because certainly not everything works today. The role of Glinda especially is in my mind far too painfully innocent and sweet, with very implausible appearances when all seems darkest for our heroine (her final appearance teaching Dorothy how to use the ruby slippers seems particularly Glinda ex machina). The munchkins seem like a parody of themselves. And of course, while the sets and effects (and of course the technicolor) were modern for their day, it all seems a bit low-budget now. The moral of the story, that anything of real value will be found no further than in your backyard, is limiting. Perhaps it is true that 'there's no place like home', but I still maintain that you can only realize this by leaving home to begin with. And that home is not necessarily the place you're originally from (or only one place at all).

This does not mean that the movie as a whole doesn't work, because it still does. The sets and effects are still effective, though through a wave of nostalgia. The better-known songs are better-known for a reason, which is that they're catchy. The colors are so old, they're retro. Actually, I would love to have been in an audience not used to everything in color for that scene where Dorothy opens the door of the farmhouse post-tornado, to find herself transported from bleak black-and-white Kansas to brilliant overdone color in Oz. And of course, Margaret Hamilton's Wicked Witch of the West has withstood the test of time. I wonder what that says about modern society that the bad guy is still relevant, but the goodness in the other main characters seems far-fetched and naive. And of course we all know not to pay any attention to the man behind the curtain.

On a more personal level, it was only as an adult that I realized that Oz was supposed to be a dream...maybe because I had read the book first (in the book, it is definitely a real place), and only then that I realized that the same actors reappeared both in Kansas and in Oz. I've never been particularly observant.

So, to sum up, I still like it. I'd see it again, and almost certainly will, multiple times. I'd like to get a copy of it to show to my child-to-be...after we've read the books together, of course. But I'm still not totally sure why that is. Maybe even following the yellow brick road all through Europe hasn't been enough to change my basic background.

The sign says it all, really

But I'll add some comments anyway. This is a sign that I've always appreciated, and which I've photographed on more than one occasion. It has sort of become more than just a sign. It's a reminder of something that I all too often forget. It's not so obviously relevant during the week, where I'm too busy doing what needs to be done to be worrying about what I'm not doing. But it comes into its own over the weekends, where I feel myself slide into lethargy, all the while feeling the increasing weight of all the things it would be helpful if I did, right now. Sometimes I get some of those things done, but not always by any means. Yet the answer to all of this angst is clearly stated in the sign.

The question though could be what path? How to keep on a path that cannot be seen? And how to keep on multiple paths at once? Or is that not actually possible?

One thing is for sure though, that any path that one follows for long enough seems to end up leading to some sort of meaning and fulfillment. Even blogging every day (as I have been inspired to do this month) has given far more than would be expected. Leading me to wonder how many paths are necessary for a full life and how elaborate those paths really need to be.

For you, do you know what your paths in life are? Or what paths you'd like to be on? Or are you finding it all out only as you go along?

Why I will most likely never be dooced

It occurs to me every once in a while that I never blog about my work, even though this item in my life takes more time and focus than pretty much anything else I've done recently (except probably my thesis). I used to think that this is because I don't want to write about things that might be private, and which might have repercussions. But then, my work is not that confidential. The truth is that I don't blog about my work because this is a personal blog. I have simply no desire to bring my work here.

Today, I realized that the reverse is also true, as today was my opportunity to tell my boss that I'm pregnant (she was visiting Denmark from Sweden, and it seemed just...nicer somehow to give the news in person). It seemed just such an awkward thing to tell, as in why should my work know about my private life in this way? I don't normally see that there is so much separation in my life between various elements...but clearly there is. In the end it was of course fine (both people I was telling have toddlers of their own, so there was never much doubt but that the reaction would be positive).

I suppose this is a good thing, this not giving hot work gossip (that is, if I knew any, though I suppose I could always make something up), for me at least, as I will probably not have to worry about saying the wrong thing and losing my job. On the other hand, maybe it's not so interesting for the reader?

Sometimes, I can stall on a meme...for a long, long time

It occurs to me, as I start to find some sort of a strange groove with posting everyday, that well, there are a lot of things that I've talked about posting about, that I then haven't, well, posted about. Including this meme. In this case, I got the entrancing Vanessa to ask me 5 questions. In turn, if you would like, please tell me in the comments, and I will come up with 5 questions individually tailored to you. It will be clear from the nature of some of the following questions that I've left this meme undone for far too long.

1. You're originally from California, what do you miss most about home?
I don't miss an awful lot, to tell the truth. This doesn't mean that I don't find things when I'm there that I don't have elsewhere. This includes of course seeing my family, going to my favorite bookstores, restaurants, eating certain foods. Seeing some sights. The nature is so varied, and taking road trips is so easy. But when I'm back in Denmark, I don't miss too much especially.

2. On the flip side, what do you like the most about being an expat living abroad?
I find this a hard question to answer, probably because I've been an expat for too long. At first, it was just cool to live abroad, which had been one of my dreams. The new language, the new culture, new food, were all exciting. I still find those things interesting, but I don't feel like an expat. Rather, it's just my life to live outside where I'm from.

3. Last year you visited a number of countries, including China, what travels do you have planned for this year?
Well, the year is almost over, and the answer was California (several times), and Yorkshire for a week. I'll be in the Netherlands for a quick weekend later this month, and in Austria over Christmas. So, some nice travel, but not as much as was the case the past couple of years. I expect the level of travelling will stay lower for the next few years, and then gradually pick back up, circumstances permitting.

4. In the past you've mentioned that you enjoy doing cross stitch, when did you begin this hobby and what are your favorite type of items to work on?
I didn't start that early actually, maybe about a dozen or so years ago. Which is interesting as my mom did needlepoint and cross-stitch (and many other crafts) for as long as I could remember. Once I started on it though, I fell into it with some degree of passion. I go for long periods without doing anything (I'm in a cross-stitch free period now), and then periods (usually where I have a bit more time) where I can work on things for literally days at a time. I like patterns that are elaborate, or which have lots of elements, and linen with really tiny holes, so that I worry about going blind from the effort.

5. Hows the thesis coming along?
Now, this shows how long it's taken to do this meme, as my thesis was turned in in May, and defended in August. It went really well, but sadly has been followed by a near-total writer's block for anything even remotely academic. But I'm slowly getting over that. Or, if I answer this with reference to my next thesis (well technically dissertation at that point), I can say with confidence that it is still in larval stage, but that I'm sure it will eventually become strong and powerful. But certainly not right away.

So now, it's your turn...I look forward to being the question asker!

*Photo: Redwoods, of course. I wouldn't say I miss them, but I visit them whenever they're nearby.*

More election pondering

There's a lot of this election signage going around, outside of train stations, on fences and railings, across bridges. I find it fascinating, to follow the vibe of the election, what the parties are saying, and might be thinking.

I track how the passers-by have clearly interacted with the signs. Right-wing party candidates are far more likely to have their signs vandalized, I've noticed. Defacing the right-wing, anti-immigration Danish People's Party's placards and posters is actually somewhat of an art form, which I will eventually have my camera with me to photograph examples of. Actually, I could create a post just to talk about all the ways in which this party and its values are distasteful. And probably will.

I enjoy how the far left and far right tend to wrap around and meet each other on the other side. For example, the Danish People's Party and far-left Enhedslisten united in their rejection of the European Union.

I savor the headlines after debates between the two candidates for prime-minister, extolling all the errors and possible errors which each candidate made. The tabloids make it very clear, 'Fogh lied!', 'Thorning-Schmidt lied!' Eventually, I hope to make time to watch the debates myself, but for now, the spin is so much more fun.

I find out what the nine major parties are about, and then pontificate about them. Will Asmaa Abdol-Hamid's candidacy split Enhedslisten? Who will the New Alliance party give support to? Why did Helle Thorning-Schmidt ever think she could make an alliance with the Conservative Party?

In short, this election is exciting and interesting to me. It would all be so much more meaningful though, if I had the right to vote.

On symptoms

After four months, it might be time for me to admit it. I am having symptoms. Lots and lots of symptoms. Much as I have been trying to deny it, the truth of it is unavoidable.

I say to myself, 'They say that the most common pregnancy symptom is fatigue. But I don't feel fatigued.' Then it hits me that I'm going to bed well before 9pm on most nights (right now, it's 7, and I'm thinking it might be time for a rest), and have been sleeping for well over my usual sleep needs...and still feel a bit tired. So, then I say to myself, 'Well, it's because I'm working so much more.' But no, that's not it.

I say to myself, 'I haven't had any morning sickness, isn't that cool?' Then it hits me that I'm increasingly plagued by nagging heartburn all the time, seemingly no matter what or when I eat. So, then I say to myself, 'Well, it's the cranberry juice you had after lunch.' But no, that's not it.

I say to myself, 'Wow, my weight is almost the same so far, and even though the weight I have seems to be a bit redistributed, my trousers still fit. I can't imagine ever getting super huge, ever.' At this point, nothing hits me, and there is nothing to respond to. I simply accept the fact that I am deluded.

I say to myself, 'My moods are pretty much the same, I'm not more sensitive than I was before. Yay me!' At this point, I tell this to Thor, and he just laughs. Actually, he's taken to calling me Moody.

And this is supposed to be the 'easy trimester'. It's going to be a long time til May, isn't it?

The secret to domestic bliss

I have never been domesticated. That has usually been o.k., except for any relationship I have ever been in, where my house cleaning shortcomings, and to a lesser extent my cooking laziness have always ended up an issue. Of course I have gotten far less messy, and slightly more decluttered over time, but could never make the leap to actually doing my fair share of the cooking and cleaning. Until now. I'm not sure which of us came up with it, but the solution was so simple...

I cook, Thor cleans. The scary thing is that we each think that we are getting the better end of the bargain. Thor is convinced that I spend more time cooking (this includes the menu-planning, the shopping, and most of the washing up...none of which take very long, to be honest) than he spends cleaning. I'm not sure about that, but I am sure that cooking is really fun. I'm developing quite a repertoire, actually, and good feedback is extremely motivating. Cleaning just simply is not...not fun, not interesting, not creative, not anything.

From this, many related questions come into my mind. For example, can any other of life's sticky problems be solved this way? I honestly can't come up with a single example (maybe this is why I haven't usually found myself blogging after a long workday?) How do other couples creatively share the workload? And of course, how long can I keep this up? I hope forever, just because I really, really never want to ever wash a floor again. And I'm not missing the dusting either.

And now, a small confession: of course this post should be accompanied by a shot of one of my special dishes...but I keep forgetting to photograph dinner. So, this is not my creation. However, I do plan to eventually learn to make it myself. It's called rødgrød med fløde, a name beloved (or perhaps not) by foreigners everywhere, as it embodies everything that is hard to pronounce about the Danish language: The 'ø', the so-called 'soft d', and the strangely placed (by English speaker standards) 'r' sound. It's the kind of thing that Danes will ask non-Danes to pronounce so that they can have a good laugh (no, really, it is). However, it's worth the effort to pronounce it, becase the dish itself is delicious.

Whale skeletons, tatoos, and general inefficiency

The skeleton dimensions I shall now proceed to set down are copied verbatim from my right arm, where I had them tattooed; as in my wild wanderings at that period, there was no other secure way of preserving such valuable statistics. But as I was crowded for space, and wished the other parts of my body to remain a blank page for a poem I was then composing - at least, what untattooed parts might remain - I did not trouble myself with the odd inches; nor, indeed, should inches at all enter into a congenial admeasurement of the whale.

--Ishmael, about to reveal whale secrets in Moby Dick

This passage both disturbs and enlightens. Disturbs, perhaps only me in my role as commitment-phobe. Imagine, to be so devoted to something that you engrave it permanatly on your physical being. I couldn't do it...which might explain why I don't have any tatoos. Enlightens because there is value in remembering and commemorating whatever it is that is important in our lives, both the sublime poem, and the mundane measurement of a whale skeleton. Or should that have been the other way around?

It's of particular relevance now as so much new is happening in my life, and I find myself facing a future with simply too many roles, both the real and the as yet merely imagined. And maybe I'm not such a commitment-phobe after all, because I simply can't bring myself to de-prioritize anything that has had priority at any time before. Some re-ordering I know will come about just through life's normal course, but others will not.

The problem is that which has been pushed out of the foreseeable future, which is my envisioning of myself as an academic. It's the oldest dream I have, and all I need to do (at least for now) is to get my thoughts together into a proposal...not a finished, polished, brilliant proposal either, mind you, just one that is definite enough that I can send it around and get feedback on it. And yet I find that all the other roles in my life, as employee, friend, girlfriend, family member, future mother, are given priority over just focusing on what exactly I want to research, and then writing it down. Even though the academic role is more important than any of the others (not that the others are not important, just that they don't need the same time, attention, and tenacious no-holds barred fighting to keep them realizable). And to compound it, when I talk about it, it invariably feels like whining. Which is what it is.

So, the question is, is it possible to tell how much space is left for tatoos? And what's the best way to remove, or at least minimize tatoos whose significance is diminished? How far should a dream be pushed before it becomes more burden than motivation? I don't think my dream has become a burden, by the way. But at the rate I'm going, and the guilt I'm producing, it sure seems a bit that way.

*picture taken from http://daverothstravels.blogspot.com/2007/09/ive-done-it.html.*

Does this count as an impulse buy?

Our very own parking disc. I'm so proud.

What can I say? Thor and I went out a couple of Fridays ago to look at some stuff. And along the way, we spontaneously bought a car and brought it home with us. O.K., I'll admit, one of the things we went out to look at was a car (I know, it takes away somewhat from the overall shock value to admit this), but we've been talking about getting one for ages. We were never actually going to really buy one though. That would take away all the joyful anticipation...wouldn't it?

So now we have a car. It's pretty practical, not totally uncute, has a few kilometers on it, but not scarily much, is not too old. And I'm now a car owner. Car co-owner to be exact. Something I never thought I'd be ever again, to be honest. Why would anyone living and working in a big city area need a car? The sad thing is, that while Thor was more into the 'owning a car' concept...he hasn't had his license for that long, and wants to be able to maintain his skills...I'm the one who works all over the island, travelling to multiple locations each day, all of which are far from home. And yet, I can't yet bring myself to drive to work, even on those days where I sleepwalk my way to the 6 a.m. train.

But the things we can do with a car! The things we have done! A week ago we drove to the far coast of Sweden to buy apple and cranberry juice (as of course you all do with your cars)...exploring the beautiful Scanian countryside replete with autumnal foliage (but alas, without a camera). We now seek out big warehouse stores, where we buy large items, because we can, we have a car. Well, truth be told, we don't buy that much stuff, and no large stuff, but we could, you know. It's the sheer possibility of it that thrills.

So, in short, for me at least, this car is all about the future, not so much the present. The fun is in thinking about where I could go next. If you were in Denmark with a car, where would you go? What would you do?

Two unscientific ways to call the upcoming elections

This post is about the upcoming Danish parliamentary elections (which are on the 13th). I'm entranced by how elections in Europe seem to spring up out of nowhere, whenever the ruling regime feels they are in a good position to keep their mandate. Yes, I know it is actually somewhat predictable, and follows its own logic, but to me, used to knowing when elections will be years, decades, centuries in advance, it always seems more than a bit random, this idea of calling for a vote whenever you feel like it, like some sort of nation-wide dinner party, only without food.

The shortness of the preparation time makes for very intense dynamics: in this instance, there was officially just under three weeks notice before the election date (though of course there are always rumors well beforehand, so it can't have been a total surprise to anyone), which means that Denmark is now in the midst of a 3-week obsessive media frenzy, which will last presumably until the election itself (when there will be equally obsessive spin regarding all aspects of the voting, who's in, who's out, who is working with whom, that kind of thing).

This time, I feel I have some basic idea of the different parties, where they generally stand on the issues (and which issues are important at the moment), some of the key characters, and so I'm really trying to pay attention. At this point, I can honestly say that I have no idea what will untimately happen (though I'd put my money on the current government staying in power, possibly with some change in support parties). However, I have found two prognosticating tools, which I would like to share with you.

1) Use Facebook. There are currently two groups which are relevant here, one attempting to find 100,000 voters who want to get rid of (current prime minister, and head of the middle-right wing Liberal Party) Anders Fogh Rasmussen, and another attempting to find 100,001 voters that do not want Helle Thorning-Schmidt (the head of the main opposition party, the middle-left Social Democrats) to be prime minister. At this point, the 'get rid of Fogh' party has 15,310 members. The 'we don't want Thorning-Schmidt to win' group has only 1,680. Clearly, this shows that either Fogh is in deep trouble, or that stereotypical college-age Facebook users are not representative of the general population.

2) Opinion polls. According to today's edition of free morning paper Urban, of all the 8 main party leaders, voters would most like to have Anders Fogh as their accountant or bank advisor. They would also rather buy a used car from him than from Helle Thorning-Schmidt (though interestingly the party leader they would most trust to sell them a used car is left-wing Socialist People's Party leader Villy Søvndal). But before you feel too sorry for Helle, consider that she is the one that voters would most like to hug. Especially the male voters (Thorning-Schmidt is a very elegant willowy blonde, which might explain this), but also the female voters (she and Villy Søvndal are tied for second behind centrist party New Alliance leader Nasser Khader, who is not horrible looking). Men would also choose to dance with Helle at a party, though women are more likely to dance with Villy or Nasser, or, if they aren't available, then maybe with Anders Fogh. So, what does this bode for the candidates? If the warm fuzzy candidate has an edge, then it might be time for a new government. If it's all about sound financial advice and overall sales, then I'd say that Anders Fogh has timed the election well.

This is not to dismiss other ways of predicting, from tea leaves to more serious polls (which I believe show Anders Fogh ahead, but with Thorning-Schmidt catching up fast). Can you add any techniques to my list? And for the American elections, which candidate would you most like to hug? Or buy a used car from?

*Grafitti in the hip, working-class Nørrebro area of Copenhagen, taken months ago, well before the election. This person clearly does not like Fogh. According to my preconceived notions, the sprayer of this sidewalk statement would vote for a very left-wing party, like maybe Enhedslisten.*

Yes, it's true. I am officially great.

A blog post in question and answer format.

Q: 'Officially great'? Isn't that a bit much?
A: Well, I'm referring to it as part of a longer expression. Other titles I considered were, 'Starting out NaBloPoMo with an attention getter', 'Maybe this should have been a Halloween post, as it contains news which is scary (in an exciting way)', or 'Attention: bun in oven'. I think you'll agree that I picked the best of a rather mediocre bunch.

Q: So, this is all a ploy to tell everyone that you're knocked up.
A: Yeah, basically.

Q: Aren't you supposed to post gratuitous ultrasound pictures or something? Or tell us some words of wisdom that 'no other pregnant woman before you has ever known'?
A: No ultrasound pictures...you'll just have to take my word for it, they're cool, and actually look sort of like a baby, rather than the white lines on a black background abstract art I was expecting to see. As for words of wisdom, I don't feel any wiser than other pregnant women throughout history, but I am amassing a serious collection of reading material on pregnancy-related subjects.

Q: Such as?
A: Well, of course some of the usual suspects (like this, which I find fairly useful, but which is beginning to get boring through sheer overreading, or this, which is a fairly dry read, but it enables me to talk about things like 'nuchal fold tests' in Danish), but also some others. I especially enjoyed Birth: A History. This one can be summarized in one sentence: we should all be grateful that doctors have learned to wash their hands before examining patients. The actual history in the book was also interesting. For those who would rather get their information from the internet, The Onion is always a sure source of information, even about pregnancy. And I haven't added any video to my collection yet, but I believe the plan is to get a group together for an evening of fun, merriment, and all the alien movies on DVD. It just seems proper to see them at this point. You know, just in case I end up having a cesarian.

Q: Does this mean that you'll be turning into a mommy blogger?
A: No. My role models on this are all my favorite blogging buddies who have kids, but don't feel the need to dwell on them in their blogs.

Q: Good...oh, and I suppose you should share some of those details that everyone always wants to know, I'm sure you know what those are.
A: O.K., well to answer the questions that I'm already getting from everyone, well first off, my greatness will end and my new career as a milk provider/diaper changer is due to begin sometime in the middle of May, but I predict it'll be earlier than that. Speaking of early, it's too early to say if it's a boy or a girl. And Thor and I have some ideas for names, but it's a bit too early to share any of them. Oh, and everything has been very smooth so far, no morning sickness or anything. Just a second, I need to find some wood to knock on....

Q: All right, just one more question before you go...don't you think you're a little old for this kind of thing?
A: Yeah, probably. But I have the feeling that I wouldn't have gotten any younger by waiting.