Speaking for God

The Huffington Post has been covering the story of the California Pageant Contestant who announced that the Bible is very clear about how God will punish homosexuality with death.

What I want to know is how you can effectively argue with people who just cite God and the Bible as their main sources of information. There seems to be no way to combat "faith" with "logic." Or even compassion, in this case.

I do respect people's rights to their opinions, so that's not my issue with this. As a college professor once drilled into my head "If you don't agree with freedom of speech for speech you don't agree with, then you don't agree with freedom of speech." I just wonder what kind of education or argument would sway this woman and many like her.

Getting Closer

We bought a crib! This means the baby doesn't have to sleep in a drawer or in the bathtub. And it means that I've already ruined the punchline to this whole story. This is how you can tell I studied Journalism in college. I just can't bury the lead.

It was a momentous occasion...after several trips to actual furniture stores which housed actually new cribs, we decided to take a spin on Craigslist and see what we could find. At first I was overwhelmed--did I really want to take time out of my napping and Ben&Jerry's-eating schedule to go to people's homes and touch their used furniture? Though the answer was no, I forced myself to make one appointment in Alameda, which is across the Bay Bridge from San Francisco. Rob and I went there on Monday night and were met at the door by an adorable woman named Sue who started to hug me before realizing it would be a little weird. We shook hands.

The crib was in five pieces on the floor, and the house was very clean and nicely decorated, which mattered to me since we were potentially leaving with a mattress. In New York City, this would never happen: rampant bed bugs. The crib had previously been the property of a three-year-old who was only referred to as Naked Man. Naked Man made one appearance at the top of the stairs while we were examining the crib, and he really did live up to his nickname. But it was more comforting than if they'd referred to him as Bed Bug Man.

We made a quick and easy decision to take the crib, and talked with Naked Man's parents for a little bit longer. When we left, the woman did hug me.

Here are some photos of the crib, which Rob put together that evening, along with a photo of our glider, which I put together that evening, because I will not be outdone.

Sweet

You know how they say girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice? I'm relatively certain that our baby is just made of sugar, since that's all I eat. When she arrives, I'm probably going to take a bite out of her if she smells like ice cream. Let's just hope the cravings have passed by then.

Rob and I spent the weekend in Tahoe: he skiied for a while each day, and I wandered around, reading by the fireplace, drinking hot chocolate, and debating whether to spend a fortune getting a manicure and pedicure at our hotel (what could one possibly do to make a pedicure worth $60 when I can get one for $15 in San Francisco? I opted to live with my unkempt hands and toes for at least a few more days.)

It was a beautiful and relaxing weekend, and we tried to wrap our heads around the fact that it was truly our last pre-baby vacation. There was lots of talk about when our daughter will start skiing (apparently, when she's three) and we watched all of the families with small children to see how it worked. I must say, there were many very polite kids on the mountain. A two-year-old boy saw me sitting in a chair as he got off the elevator and wanted to know if I needed him to hold the door for me. Another toddler was walking past me up the stairs and excused himself as we went by each other. Who were these tiny gentlemen, I wondered? And how do you get a kid who is so well-behaved? I want one.

34 weeks

On Sunday we went on a hike with Liz, Rob and Rigby. I picked the hike--it was designated as an easy/moderate 3.5 miles and, despite being nearly 8 months pregnant, I thought I could handle it. And I could--if by "handle it" you mean stopping every 3-5 minutes to do some Lamaze breathing before continuing.

This is me and Rob at the top of the hike, which took us up about 800 feet and through the woods past some amazing waterfalls. Rigby was allowed to go off leash at one point and immediately dug up an old chicken bone.

WAAAAAARRRRRRRRR

Not really. I just wanted to share this article from The New Yorker, in case you haven't read it. The part that really interested me:

“The Hurt Locker” has taken in a little more than sixteen million dollars. “Avatar” took in eleven million. The difference is, the figure for “The Hurt Locker” represents the totality of its receipts in the seven months since it was released. The “Avatar” number represents only the most recent weekend’s take. In Italy.

The crux of the article is the new voting process for the Oscars--the author makes the case that it favors a win for The Hurt Locker. I guess I'll watch the Academy Awards again this year.

Deepish Wednesday

In one of those expected turn of events, I can no longer squeeze into spaces that once used to easily fit me. In restaurants, I get stuck between chairs. Entering my house, I never seem to open the door wide enough. I walk into walls. And, in related news, food seems to land on me, where once it might have fallen on a napkin in my lap. If I could eat more elegantly, this last one would not be an issue.

When not eating or trying to navigate the increasingly tighter world, I am often asleep. It's hard to stay awake for more than 8 hours at a time, which made my most recent sleepless night (last night) even more unpleasant. Rob is out of town, so Smokey wandered the house looking for him FOR HOURS. His rotation included stomping into the bedroom and hopping over me, meowing and walking around until he had established that Rob was, in fact, not there. This did not stop him from checking every 15 minutes, usually just as I was about to fall asleep. Smokey, despite being 7 pounds, manages to walk like a baby elephant through the house. Emma punctuated his antics by howling into the night at random intervals for totally unknown reasons. She doesn't share Smokey's deep connection to Rob, so I'm pretty sure she was just being an asshole.

Last night I also finished Kurt Vonnegut's Armageddon in Retrospect. I loved it--it opens with a letter from Vonnegut's son Mark, who calls his dad "Kurt" and who also calls him out on some of his more nonsensical thoughts:

"I'm as celibate as fifty percent of the heterosexual Roman Catholic clergy."

What? Mark Vonnegut called this "a sentence with no meaning." But then there are so many sentences full of meaning, that you just kind of go with it. There's a letter home after Vonnegut was released from a POW camp in Germany, and the short fiction that follows is all connected to his experience of World War II. The book is almost exclusively about war, which is a theme that ran through our house this weekend. No, we're not fighting, but we went to see Avatar, rented The Hurt Locker, and had friends over to watch that annual battle known as The Super Bowl (was it just me or did the commercials totally suck? I have reached my yearly quota of Budweiser ads, for sure.)

I'm thinking the theme for this week should be a little different, maybe fluffier and not so bomb-oriented. It could help the cats sleep easier, if nothing else.

These are the people in your neighborhood

Liz and Rob-Stan have officially moved to San Francisco! Liz left my apartment on Friday morning, taking with her all of her weird bags and baskets full of clothes (whatever happened to suitcases?) and I was immediately devastated. She moved HALF A MILE away, but I was still all sad that she's not going to be around to drink tea and read on the couch with me, or download about our days while I eat chocolate ice cream for dinner.

So, because I missed her so much, I made her come over yesterday to help with Ellie's baby shower. Liz did all the decorations, making little phallic blue balloon bouquets, since Ellie and Eric are having a boy. It was a lovely shower with lots of fun gifts, some that Ellie might actually steal from the baby.



On Saturday, I went to Liz and Rob-Stan's new apartment with Rob and my Aunt Carolyn, who came to town to make cupcakes for the baby shower (and also to take a week-long painting class in the city.) It was completely empty and we sat on the floor, chatting, until my stomach started eating itself and I announced that we had to leave for lunch right then or the baby was going to stick a little fist through my belly button and try to grab Rigby's dog treats.

When we came back, several hours later, the movers had arrived and left, and seriously, the place looked amazing. I'll post some pictures soon. This means that my sister and I are living in the same city for the first time in 14 years. Some people take it for granted that their family members will always be close by. But since I've made the decision to hopscotch all around the country, it's not something I've ever been able to count on. And with the baby coming, I am feeling extra grateful to have my sister around, someone who I can call when I need a babysitter or just have some balloons that need blowing up.