Some News!

I know that all that everyone cares about right now is that Khloe Kardashian got married to Lamar Odom in a quickie ceremony in LA, but I have some other news. (For those of you that don't know me, that last sentence was laced with so much sarcasm that, well, if we rolled up the sentence in a joint, and say...sarcasm was a lethal drug...well, we'd be dead or something like that. I also like to explain my sarcasm to the point of it not being funny anymore.)

ANYwho...

Beau and I had every intention of not finding out the sex of our baby. Okay, actually Beau had every intention of not finding out the sex of our baby. I'm one of those people that searches for all of their Christmas presents weeks before Christmas Day so that I'm adequately prepared for what I'm opening on the special day. If I can't find the Christmas presents, then I open the already wrapped presents while no one is home, and then I re-wrap them perfectly as to not alert anyone that I'm a complete whack-job. I know, I know. It's horrible. I've been like this since I was a child. I really think that I should be either a private investigator or in some sort of all-day, intense research facility.

Example as to why: On Saturday, my mother-in-law pointed out an infestation of caterpillars in her yard. They were black. They are everywhere. She asked me to look them up on the internet. Actually, looking back, she didn't ask me. I willingly and happily offered to look them up on the internet. I typed in every, single thing I could think of to find those damn caterpillars:

"Black caterpillar"
"Black caterpillar with white stripes"
"Caterpillars in yard"
"Caterpillar infestation Oklahoma yard black"
"Caterpillar identification"

As more and more sites and pictures appeared that didn't match the damn caterpillars, (and after about 30 minutes of this) my search entries started looking more like this:

"Stupid fucking caterpillars"
"Dumbass black caterpillars in the fucking lawn"
"The dumbest caterpillars in the whole world"

After I had this little fit, I realized that I could not give up. I was also completely immersed in the research. People tried to talk to me about football, steak, what was for dessert...nothing phased me. For me to not respond to statements about sugar cookies, while pregnant on top of that, is quite telling about how much I love doing research.

At once, after I gave up my vulgarity-tinged search options, I started looking at the whole picture.

"Ahhhh...that tree is completely void of leaves. That is a Catalpa tree. I looked up "Catalpa tree" once when I was listening to an album by Jolie Holland called...what else...'Catalpa.' I wonder if those damn caterpillars ate all those leaves and then fell to the grass instead of just originating from the grass?" (This is my life now that I can't have wine or cigarettes.)

My search turned into:

"Catalpa tree no leaves stupid caterpillar probably ate them"

BAM! Effing "Catalpa Sphinx Caterpillar" popped up. Right in front of my face. There it was with it's alarmingly cute, fat black body, staring back at me.

"I found it! It's a stupid Catalpa Sphinx Caterpillar! They only eat Catalpa tree leaves! They turn into moths! GROSS!"

I was draped and clothed in so much praise...I felt like I had just discovered the cure for psoriasis. You'd think that I would say "the cure for cancer" wouldn't you? Nope. Psoriasis.

(Now is the point where I scroll back up to the top of this piece of writing to see where the hell I was going with this story.)

Oh, yeah...I have to know everything at all times...like researching...I remember now. Wow. That was a long trip around a pointless story to get to what I was trying to announce.

I looked on the ultrasound and confirmed with the ultrasound lady (it wasn't hard to confirm, by the way), and then I teased and mocked Beau that he didn't know the sex until he finally gave up and asked what the baby "is," and even though we've both had a feeling that it was "this" for the entire pregnancy...

It's...a...BOY!

p.s. I'm naming him Grey Matthew Adams.

1. Grey because I just like it, and it's unusual.
2. Matthew after my brother and it's Beau's middle name.
3. The British spelling of "Grey" sounds suave, and I'm only going to dress him in sportcoats with little leather patches on the elbows and a little fake pipe for him to smoke. I'm going to take him to the "thee-a-tah."
4. Who wouldn't want a boyfriend named Grey? How fucking mysterious is that? It's like a foggy day...or some mist coming off of a pond...it has just the right amount of pretention to it. Just kidding. :)

Science is Hard

This morning I was looking at new pictures from the Hubble Space Telescope. The new photo was labeled "Butterfly Nebulous," which immediately sparked my attention. It is found in the Scorpius constellation.

I looked at the picture. The article then said this:

"The gas is tearing across space at more than 600,000 miles an hour -- fast enough to travel from Earth to the moon in 24 minutes," NASA's Web site says. The "butterfly" is more than 2 light-years across.

I don't understand. Two light-years across? Miles? Yes...I understand that. Light years? I still have no concept of what that means. I mean, I know what it means...I just don't know what it means. Light years are like telephone wires or microwaves. They are there and they happen, but I have no understanding of them at all. I also don't care that I don't know. I once read Stephen Hawking's "A Brief History of Time."

I read the words. That's about all that happened. There was no absoption of information. It's almost as if I read a book that said:

"Me are the ones of conventry pageant. Simple time is creates a dog bowl!" That's about as much sense as I could make of it. Why must astronomers be so brill? (I used "brill" to show that I am not "brill." Get it?) All I've ever wanted to do in my life is float through space, and yet, I was cursed with an easily nauseated stomach and a complete inability to comprehend the space/time continuum. Poop on that.

I'd also like to thank blogger.com for only allowing me to type in italics today. Thank you.

Back to my story:

If I could type the caption below the butterfly nebula, it would say:

This is called a butterfly nebula. It looks pretty. See the pretty colors? Parts of it look like they're spreading out into space! Neat, huh? Some of the nebula...wait...scratch that...parts of the bug sparkles look squishy, don't they? Do you like sparkles? I like sparkles! Maybe when you die, stuff looks like this! Wouldn't that be neat?

Anyway...that's what I'd put. I like to be asked questions like a 4 year-old and then reassured that my answers are okay.

One more thing: I would like to thank blogger.com for only allowing me to type in BOLD, italics now. What the hell?

Go Pokes.