Weird Stuff...

The power died last night. When I was in the bathtub. In the middle of trying to enjoy a nice, relaxing, hot bath. I thought that I was dead when the power went out. Hubby was taking a practice test. It was weird.

I don't feel like doing anything today. It is just one of those days. My feet have been swelling alot lately. Even when I am not standing on them. Last night my ankles were so big, it looked as if I just had fins. That was weird.

Hey, maybe I should dedicate this blog to all things weird.

I had this dream last night. I dreamed that I found out that the baby wasn't mine. Or Hubby's. And I was still pregnant with it. It made me angry. And it was weird.

My hair is so curly this morning. I had to sleep with it wet. It always curls into a near-Fro when I do that. And it looks weird.

The first "r" in February isn't pronounced. Yet we still include it in the spelling of the word. That is weird.

I have one more week now before I go to the doctor. When I go to the doctor I will be past the 36 week mark. That means that I will be a mommy soon - for real. That is weird.

I wonder if my belly feels like a water bed. Wouldn't that be weird?

I dreamed that I was going back to school after the baby was born - high school. And I was going to be a cheerleader. And I was in art class, but I wasted all of my time trying to help this guy work on his charcoal picture. The teacher told us we could draw on anything. So, I drew my picture on the side of a coke bottle. It looked really cool. It was of a deserted city - except for two people in the fore ground. Then the teacher and I got into a yelling match. She told me that I could be something if I would just keep at it. So I missed all of my other classes so that I could draw a picture. Except I was thinking too much about technique. It wasn't until I just let go of technique and closed me eyes, that the picture came together. It was as if I were looking too much at the individual lines before, but when I closed my eyes, my hand took over and my brain only saw the finished effect. It makes me want to draw today. But, I can't find my charcoal pencil set. Somewhere in the house... Do you think that the dream has any meaning? I'm a big one for trying to find meaning in dreams.

Oh, yeah - and when I closed my eyes it was as if I could not see if I were messing up. I remember thinking that in my dreams. And it helped me to succeed at the picture. Weird, huh?

Chicken salad in a philo dough shell is really pretty, easy, and good. Garnish the plate with tomato slices and sprinkle paprika on the entire plate - very sparingly, of course. A masterpiece!

I want to have a mocktail party. I am becoming obsessed with the idea. It all started yesterday when I kept finding really good appetizer recipes. I really want to make crab canapes. And baked brie with a nut crust and raspberry top. And I want to wear a little black dress. And I want to have low, jazzy music playing in the background. And I want my house to be spottlessly clean - with everything in place and candles lit everywhere. And I want to be hurrying around - but not looking as if I were in a hurry. I want to wear high heels and an apron. I want all of my guests to think that it is the most relaxing, elegant event that they have been to in a private home. And I want to make up mixed drinks in a shaker, so that my jewelry rattles - kind of like in the old movies. (Only no alcohol in the drinks...) And I want to have my ankles well-defined and my waist well-defined again... And I want to send out formal invitations to my party to a select number of guests. And I want my kitchen to look spottless the whole time that I am cooking for my guests. And I want Hubby to walk behind me and put his hands on my waist (I will have one again) and kiss my hair while I wash dishes. I want to feel as if I have been a perfect hostess and a good wife - allowing him and his friends to have a memorable time in his own home. And I want him to keep me company in the kitchen while I clean up the pretty glass dishes and cups. Sort of like how he did at the party that I and Old Roomie threw when I moved into the rip-off-payed-way-too-much apartment over the church.

That was the first time that I knew that I was in love with him. I tried to tell myself that wasn't what it was. But I knew. As cheesy as it sounds - we were washing dishes. But really, I knew then that he was the "one." I remember how peaceful it seemed in that kitchen (can you call it that?) with him while the rest of the party seemed chaotic. I remember what it felt like to stand close to him like that while we worked. I remember how I felt taken care of and protected from the noise. It scared me a little. I had thought that I would never fall in love. I only wanted to date for fun. I did not want to be serious until I had finished school, become really self-reliant and prosperous. And I absolutely didn't believe that people could fall in love - for real - that soon. It just goes to show that I don't - or didn't - know much about love. I still feel like that kid who can solve the calculus problem, but never quite understands how to tell someone else how he did it. So many questions. I don't think you can love more than one person like that in a lifetime...I've been told that I am wrong. I don't know. Does it matter? I don't know that either. All I know is that I am perfectly happy spending the rest of my life with this man. Isn't it weird?