What’s Going On

I am currently obsessing about the Entertainment Weekly TV preview issue and why the heck I haven’t been able to get a copy yet. I’ve considered getting a subscription so I can stop this annual haunting of the newstands, but the Minneapolis post office can be slow, and it IS only this one issue that I crave.

I am currently paranoid about listeria. It is the one food poisoning that can cross the placenta, and in the past few weeks I’ve been laughing in the face of danger, consuming lunch meat, blue cheese, unpasteurized honey. I figured, hey, it’s rare and I’ll know if I get it within 48 hours. Apparently it can take WEEKS to manifest, and while rare it is usually deadly to the fetus. So I’m regretting my blithe, “this is my second pregnancy; no need to be paranoid like the first” attitude, and will be paranoid for the next month, at least.

I am currently fretting about pants. My regular pants and skirts don’t fit in the waist. Maternity wear looks as if I’m playing dress up. I’m in that awkward stage, which I hope I grow out of soon.

I am currently looking forward to watching TV tonight. My husband G. Grod and I call it “Sci-Fi Friday.” After Drake goes to bed we watch the Tivo’d Firefly then Battlestar Galactica, which has gotten crazy good.

I am currently between books, having just finished two whoppingly good ones, Francine Prose’s A Changed Man and Muriel Sparks’s The Driver’s Seat. Haven’t committed to the next book yet. Candidates include Other Electricities by Ander Monson, Tricked graphic novel by Alex Robinson, and The Skin Chairs by Barbara Comyns.

I am currently feeling a bit better from the cold, and a strange but not uncommon-for-me home-economy resolve has surfaced, which is to clear out the fridge, the freezer and the pantry of the stuff that’s been sitting around for weeks or longer and use it up. I have a LOT of rhubarb, though. And I don’t even like rhubarb.

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