36 weeks pregnant, aka a few circles away from the center of hell

People ask me all the time how I'm doing, and I think I'd feel pretty guilty if I told them the truth. I imagine that their faces might melt off and their eyeballs would roll down their faces, like those poor people at the end of Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark. So I try to come up with something halfway between the truth and a complete lie, for their sake.

But I was thinking today that these last few months have been like being on a plane that never lands. On a really long flight, and you're getting pretty tired and uncomfortable, and your back and legs ache because you've been sitting one way for so long, and the person in front of you has their seat back all the way, but you can't put yours back because the person behind you told you they're claustrophobic, and you have two large, hot people sitting on either side of you, and they keep accidentally hit you in the abdomen over and over, and you have to pee a lot but it's such a hassel to get up and the lavatory is never big enough.

And there's a flight attendant who's trying to be really nice and help you out, but since the flight has been going on for months now they're really just pretty sick of you, but you can't help it if you're cranky because you're the one stuck in the dadgum seat all the time, and there's all this turbulence that makes you really nauseated, and most people told you that the turbulence would only last for the first third of the flight, but if you're like me, it's been going the WHOLE TIME and it's only getting worse during the last leg of the journey now.

And SURE, the plane is going to Hawaii, but you're starting to forget why you booked the tickets in the first place and you're not sure you're even prepared at all, you can't remember if you packed your swim suit, and you're pretty sure you've heard other people on the flight talking about the landing being pretty rough, to the point where you're wondering if they're going to try to land the plane on the side of a volcano or if they just eject you out into open air and you have to hope and pray that you hit the island. And even when you get there you're not sure if you're ever even going to get OFF of the island. I mean, sure, living in paradise sounds pretty good, but I bet I'd want a break from all that sand or what if the natives get hostile?

So you're not sure what to expect, you can't remember why you got yourself in that seat, but there you are stuck on that plane with your body aching and unable to get up, hurtling 500mph towards a rough landing and hostile natives. And some palm trees. Keep trying to focus on the palm trees.

Did I mention there are effing snakes on this effing plane? Just kidding. There aren't. But I wouldn't be surprised. Honestly, this whole metaphor doesn't quite capture it.

Are your faces still intact?

Resolutions

I enjoy reading the Voice of Reason blog, and today she talked about resolutions for the new year. I have to quote what she says because it mirrors my own feelings (except coming from me it would probably sound more grouchy and slightly breathless):

I'm not going to make any resolutions. I have decided that January is not so much a resolutions kind of month. If anything the cold temperatures, gray skies, and snowy roads are more conducive to a "let's be more like bears" month. (Staying inside as much as possible, check. Grouchiness, check. Thick winter pelt, also check.)

Resolutions take energy. And it's hard to try to drum up energy when it's been dark for 6 weeks and the only place that energy is going to get you is outside, where it's cold. To me, March or April would be better for resolutions because that's when you start caring about life again. January, I have now decided and decreed, is the time to stay warm and eat soup.

Ditto!

You don't have to call the airport ever again

Google has a cool new feature. You just type an airline and flight number into the search field, and the first link that pops up takes you to a page that shows if the flight is on time or delayed, and will even show you a map of where the plane is in the country right now. Amazing!

Of course, it's probably not so specific as to mention things like "flight has been delayed by a man with explosives down his pants," but it's the closest that you can come to that!

Hard Economic Times

This came out awhile ago, but I can't help posting a link to it:

Struggling Museum Now Allowing Patrons To Touch Paintings

My favorite questions

A patron just came up to me and asked very seriously, "Do you know anything about words?"

I just stared and waited.

She stared back.

I could only stammer out, "Words?..."

I do know about words. I know lots of words, too. And about a lot of them. Definitions, spellings, and hey, whatever I don't know, I can look up right here on my computer.

I didn't say any of that, but we're staring each other down high-noon-style, willing the other to stop acting crazy and know what they're talking about.

She said, "Yeah, on the computer? Words?"

And I said, "Oh, yeah, I know about Microsoft Word?" That sentence ended as a question, because it felt more polite somehow. "Is that what you're working with?"

"Yes."

We changed her page from portrait to landscape and then the world went back to normal.


*Just as a note, in case you think I'm a bad librarian for dumbly repeating back questions to patrons instead of asking them for more information: I only do that if I'm really caught off guard.

Most of the time I can jump right into a quest for more information. For instance, when a patron called on the phone today and said to me, "I'd like to know the protein difference between a McDonald's hamburger and one from Burger King" I smoothly jumped right into a serious consideration of this crazy question while bringing up Google and hoping like crazy that the internets would know. Without missing a beat I said, "Oh, you know I bet that would have to do with the size of the patty," thinking that I could look up the weight of the hamburger patties somehow.

I was only a little nonplussed when I realized it was my brother-in-law, Doug, messing with me. But I do have to say I was proud of the way I just glossed right over the crazy and jumped right into trying to figure it out.

Don't any of you get any ideas! I don't want to keep getting crazy prank-calls from family members. I can only handle so much crazy every day and there is plenty of it to go around already. I have to deal with really hard questions about words n' stuff.

The Season

A few of you know that I love the blog, Cake Wrecks, where they celebrate professional cakes that have gone wrong. Today they started a charity campaign that I wanted to plug on my blog (to all 15 of you that read it). They realized that their readership is so big, that if all of their readers donated $1 to a charity, they could raise $80,000. So they decided that each day until Christmas, they're going to pick a new charity and donate $200 to it, and encourage their readers to donate $1.

I'm really inspired by this idea, and I think it's a beautiful idea at a time of year when I'm feeling so bombarded by businesses and advertising and the push to BUY BUY BUY.

Click here to read about their plan.

Well, I did it.

Yep, I went to see Brandon Sanderson. And I was verbally brilliant and witty and he looked way impressed with me.

That doesn't fool you? Fine. Here's the story.

After reading my post about Brandon Sanderson from last week (you'll want to read it before continuing), I think some family members felt motivated to improve my track record with the fantasy author, and my brother-in-law who knows him offered to take me to Barnes and Noble today to meet him (again). Which is really nice, because then you have an introduction rather than, "Hi, I'm a crazy fan and I think your books are so awesome, and could you possibly name one of your characters in your next book after me?"

As I was walking up to the store I caught sight of my hugely pregnant self in the window and the thought occurred to me that I was spying at him from behind bookshelves at Borders last week (too shy to approach and say hello), and I hope he didn't notice otherwise he might develop a (not unfounded) psychological complex that crazy pregnant women are stalking him. Probably on top of a complex that people think he looks like Alan Rickman. Obviously, I was a little nervous.

Anyway, I stood in line for awhile listening to other fans ask him questions about his books and mentally thrashing myself for not having thought up a good question beforehand... and maybe writing it on an index card so that I wouldn't forget or phrase it incorrectly (just kidding). But I brought a book for him to sign so I figured that was excuse enough for me to be there. While I was waiting with my brother-in-law, Kimball, I realized that Brandon Sanderson might think that I was Kimball's wife. I mentioned it to him, and he was like, "Nah, no way, I'll introduce you."

So we get up there, and Brandon recognizes him right away and is super stoked to see Kimball, and I waited quietly for the overtures to finish and my big introduction. But then it was quiet and Kimball picked up a copy of Warbreaker for him to sign, and Brandon looked back and forth between us and said, "So how are you guys?" And of course I had to put a stop to that right there so I said, "I'm Kimball's sister-in-law," and he says, "Yeah! We've met before, right?"

omg, he remembered.

So I blurt out, "Yeah, but I made a fool of myself because I was so excited to meet you, so I came today to save face. And oh, could you sign this for me?" and pushed my book towards him like maybe that could erase the words I just said.

But of course he was incredibly nice and acted like I totally wasn't crazy at all last time (I was), or this time (borderline, I'd say) and took my book to sign and was so polite and kind.

And then he returned to chatting with Kimball, and was so pleased to see him that he told everybody in line behind us (who I don't really think were listening but that's okay), that he and Kimball had been cubicle-buddies at BYU together when he was writing Mistborn.

*Update 9/10/10: I had an anecdote here about how I thought Brandon Sanderson asked how to spell the word cubicle, but I was told later that I misheard him, and he was asking how to spell Kimball.  At the time, I stopped myself from making a snarky comment, thank goodness, but I've decided to take the whole thing out of this post.  I'm reading Way of Kings right now, and it's so obvious that he's an amazing writer, I can't in good conscience leave in a quip about him not being able to spell something like cubicle. Now the rest of my story:

I asked if we could take our picture with him (and inadvertently, random guy standing in the background who seems to be a major player in that photo, don't you agree?). And that was pretty much it. Not bad. Incrementally better than last time, I'd say. If things continue this way, I might not embarrass myself at all the next time I see him. But it's me we're talking about...

p.s. while chatting, he mentioned that his wife is due with their second child in January, just a few weeks before me, so if you think about it, he probably IS surrounded by crazy pregnant women.

p.p.s. Wait, did I just insult his wife? Forget I said anything.