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Today I am 38 weeks pregnant and my doctor’s appointment this afternoon is going to go something like, “Get him out, get him out, GET HIM OUT!” (Yes, I’m anxious to meet him, but it’s really about getting him off my nerve and away from my hip so I don’t have to do the Old Lady Shuffle anymore.)

I was super excited, yet totally jealous to hear the woman in my yoga class with the same due date as me delivered her son yesterday. Of course, it was her fourth child so they tend to go a little faster, but STILL.

In an effort to make today a little more fun, I invite you to guess This Little Baby’s due date, as well as his birth weight. The person who comes closest to both will win…a major blog shout out! (Wow. The incentive is so great, I know.)

The “official” date is June 30/July 1. Those of you who guess anything past July 4th may suffer my wrath. I’m just saying.

Summer is officially over in these parts, so I was delighted to open my email this morning and see a bunch of photos from when it was still hot out. A few months ago, Michael and I did a photoshoot for a piece I wrote on the many ways you can get out on the water at the fabulous Mystic Seaport in Mystic, CT.

The piece won’t run until next summer,  but I got to see the pictures today! We were having a good time with it so some are a little campy, but I’ve definitely found some that are frame-worthy.

All photos were taken by the very sweet, very talented Nicki Pardo.

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Makes me miss summer, just a little bit.

I’ve stared at this screen for quite awhile now and the words? They’re not coming. So instead, I’ll fill you in on where I’ve been.

It started with a night out in Newport for Jen’s sister’s birthday. (You know Jen. I talk about her here a lot. Here she is.)

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The night was a blast…

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(I’m not exactly sure what we’re doing here. I blame that on Jello shots. Hence, the orange tongue.)

…but at some point in the night, a guy climbed up on his friend’s shoulders to get a better view of the band we were watching, then jumped down to the floor. Onto my ankle.

Ow.

It’s a lovely shade of purple right now.

Then I headed home to New York to see the family.

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(I heart my sister. And yes, same shirt as Saturday.)

One of the things I was looking forward to most was blueberry and raspberry picking at a farm I’ve been visiting since I was a toddler.

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Mmmmm.

I beat my dad at Scrabble (a hard thing to do) with my longest word being “Oranges” and my highest score on “Yoyos” (triple word score, baby).

I also broke out in a rash yesterday morning before leaving. I think it’s from eating too many blueberries.

It was worth it.

Posting will be light at best the next few days, as I am spending time with my family in New York.

It’s been great…blueberry picking, Scrabble games amd family bbqs.

There’s also been an abundance of white legs.

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We’re OK with that, though.

This five question interview thing has been circling around the Internets, so when my friend Elizabeth asked who was next in line, I figured I might as well jump in. Below are the questions she wrote for me. If you want to be interviewed by me, leave me a comment and let me know!

(Oh and p.s. – thank you all for the pointing me in the direction of more than 145 new blogs. Holy crap, do you people deliver. I am honoring my promise of stopping by each and every one…just give me a few weeks to hit you all!)

What do you want to know about your future?

In the immediate future, I’d really like to know when and where I’ll be working again. I’d also like to know if I have a real shot at becoming a muse for Christian Louboutin in the near future.

What is on your bedside table?

I don’t have a bedside table because this is the one piece of furniture that causes me much angst. I can never find one I really like that doesn’t cost a fortune. I do, however, have an end table near the couch that I use just as often — if not more — than I would a bedside table, and at every given time it holds 2-3 library books, peppermint Chapstick, nail scissors, a photo of me and Michael in the snow ages 19 and 21, a hammered nickle lamp that I love, a bottle of nail polish and a wrapper from a piece of chocolate.

What was your favorite book as a child?

Alice and Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, Mary Poppins (the original book is amazing), the entire Oz series, Little House on the Prarie…I could go on and on. I read a LOT.

List five things you need to survive (excluding the obvious…air…etc.) if left alone on a deserted island.

Chocolate. Books. Flip flops (because stilettos would sink in the sand). Sunscreen. Michael.

Name one thing you learned today.

When the thermometer says 10, it’s best not to leave your gloves on the counter.

Bonus:  Why doesn’t MacDonald’s sell hot dogs?

Because the FDA is only just allowing them to sell “hamburgers”.

OK, who’s next?

Hey guys, when I was talking about people making comments about being domestic yesterday, I wasn’t talking about your comments. I was referring to two people in my every day life that made those comments to my face. I love your comments!

Moving on…

It’s the time of year where I find myself struggling to find appropriate stocking stuffers and little gifts for friends and family. Since I’ve now been privvy to morning television, I’ve been lucky enough to see many As Seen On TV product commercials and let me just say, friends and family? You are in for a very merry Christmas.

First up, we have the Snuggie — the blanket with sleeves.

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According to the commercial, “blankets are  OK,  but can slip and slide, plus your hands are stuck inside!” Luckily, the Snuggie is made of top quality fleece and provides not one, but TWO sleeves.

Kind of like, um…a sweatshirt.

The Snuggie looks pretty warm, so when it’s time for bed, relax with the Chillow — the cooling pillow!

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“Pillows are like the desert…hot!” Oh, really, Chillow? My pillow gets warm, sure, but hot? Like the DESERT? Oh come on, Chillow. For $29.95 (plus shipping and handling), I’ll just put my pillowcase in the freezer. (There’s a similar product for dogs, too. It’s called the Canine Cooler. Yes, really.)

Still not cool enough? Then you need the Cool Blast Personal Mister.

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It features “micro-mist technology, creating an ultra-fine spray, cooling and instantly refreshing you.”

Huh. So, it’s a SPRAY BOTTLE.

And if you’re still having trouble with hot and cold, there’s the Faucet Light.

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An LED light turns water blue when it’s cold and red when it’s hot! No more trying to remember if hot water is on the left or the right! And fear not, the nightmares of blood coming from your sink will disappear in time.

No need to thank me now. You can send me a card when your friends and family are overjoyed on Christmas morning.

I knew nothing about what the evening was going to entail until it actually happened. As a matter of fact, I didn’t even know if I should pack an overnight bag until minutes before I left for my shower. When the shower was over, 10 of us piled into cars and arrived at a hotel with a few hours to spare before dinner. Those four hours may have been some of my favorite of the whole weekend.

Sitting around with some of my best friends, drinking champagne and reminiscing was so wonderful.

Then it was party time.

It started with adorning me in classic bachelorette gear — a pink and fuzzy tiara, a “Bachelorette” sash, a garter and my Bad Girl/Good Girl wand. (Which by the way, is awesome for bopping people with all night. It also had bells so you know I was shaking it.) I was also given a little something something for the wedding night. Those crazy friends of mine have good taste.

Dinner was amazing — yummy drinks and lobster ravioli that was to die for. I’m still waiting on pictures (cough, cough, bridesmaids, COUGH) from dinner, but I’m pretty sure we got some awesome group shots.

Then it was off to the bars. I found out later that this wasn’t exactly the plan. Apparently the place we had dinner was supposed to be hopping with music and dancing, but when we got there that was not the case. I was none the wiser, so when the girls figured out some bars to go to I was happy to tag along.

The first bar we went to had an outdoor section and as we paraded through I was met with calls of “Don’t do it!” by stupid boys. I just laughed and shook my Bad Girl wand in their face. Then we ran into a bachelor party and blame it on the drinks, but I thought the groom to be (who was wearing a coconut bra) asked me “Why are you getting married?” Mustering up my New York ‘tude, I threw back, “Why are you getting married?”

“I asked WHEN are you getting married,” he laughed.

Oh. Oops.

Inside was another bar and a DJ so we were prepared to dance. Until we heard the horrible 70s disco music pumping from behind the door. Still curious, we went in and were met with an…interesting…scene. First there was the old man in the full white linen suit. He liked us, for sure.

Then there was the woman in the bustier and sailor hat. Yes, really.

And then there were the two women in mom jeans and mullets shaking their thing to I Love the Nightlife. We asked the DJ if he would change the music, but apparently that was a no go. So what’s a girl to do?

DANCE.

I would have stayed all night shaking my groove thing to that music because I’ll dance to anything. Somewhere there is a picture of me and my sister twirling around and I can’t wait to see it.

The rest of night included more bar hopping, one incident of me begging (and getting my way) a bouncer to let my 18-year old sister in the door because “It’s my bachelorette party and I neeeeeed her!” and probably one of my favorite encounters of the night.

As I was walking down the street shaking my wand, someone called out, “What are you? Miss America?”

“I’m Miss Bachelorette!”

“Ooooh you GO girlfriend! Work it out!”

Hehe.

All in all, a wonderful evening. I have the bestest sister and friends in the whole wide world.

I just wish someone would have stopped me before I broke my Bad Girl wand. It would have made a great addition to my work cube.

To sum up the weekend: fabulous. I have the most wonderful family and friends. The outpouring of love, time and energy that went into this weekend leaves me speechless.

I’m ridiculously spent right now, so the recap will have to wait until tomorrow. But I’ll leave you with a few teasers.

My mom put shoes on the tables! She knows me so well.

Lots of words of wisdom from wise women.

Oh yeah, there was a ribbon hat.

It’s not a party until you bring out the Bad Girl wand.

I am seriously counting down the minutes this week because I am so excited for my bridal shower and bachelorette party on Saturday! Obviously, it’s not a surprise shower — which I think is even better because then I don’t have to worry about looking nice every weekend and reading too much into an invitation from a friend for lunch.

Both events are taking place in New York since I have a lot of family there and with all my bridesmaids spread out, it was a nice central location. Unfortunately, one bridesmaid will not be able to attend, as she lives in California and cannot afford the ridiculously expensive plane ticket to fly out. I will miss her like crazy, but take comfort in the fact that she will be sharing the wedding day with me in just 10 weeks.

I’m really looking forward to seeing family and family friends that I haven’t seen in forever, eating some yummy food and going out with my girls.  I told them I was all for the cheesy veils, sashes or blinky things. Just no giant penis on a necklace, thankyouverymuch.

Maybe just a medium-sized penis necklace.

I also found out that Bachelorette Part II is in the works for September in Rhode Island, which will be wonderful for the girls that cannot attend the New York one.

I have such truly wonderful friends.

And family. As the wedding gets closer I realize more and more how blessed I am to have such a wonderful support system. My mom and sister have been planning the shower for weeks and I can tell that they’re anxious for it to be great. I hope they can take a deep breath this week and realize that it’s going to be fantastic.

Absolutely fantastic.

People you will see at a Dave Matthews Band concert:

- The mother-daughter team.

I’m all for going places with my mom. My mom rocks. And we went to a concert together once — the Lilith Fair. Remember that one? It was a good time. But I was a teen then. Not a pre-teen. Apparently this mother had no qualms about bringing her what I assume to be around 12-year old daughter to a concert, then leaving her alone while she went to find a friend. I have to say, though, the daughter was rocking out. It’s apparent DMB is played often in that household.

- The Really? You’re a fan? Fan.

The guy next to me knew every. single. word. to every single song. And he sang it at the top of his lungs. The guy looked like a slab of beef and was wearing a Rhode Island Hockey t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. His black hair was precisely messed and spiked in that I-care-but-don’t-want-to-look-like-I-care way. He looked like he could be on an episode of Growing Up Gotti. He kept apologizing to me after every bump from his slam dancing. I couldn’t help but laugh.

- The lone twirler.

You know who I’m talking about. There’s one at every concert in every state across the country. The girl that comes alone, dances in the aisle and thinks twirling is the best invention since Birkenstocks. Ours disappeared after the opening act, but only after flashing the peace sign.

- The overbearing parent.

I really felt for this girl and her friend. They arrived in their matching tie dye tank tops and jean shorts, ready to dance the night away while dad sat quietly three rows behind them. Except  he did not sit quietly. He harassed them to change seats with him — why, I don’t know — and gave our whole section the opportunity to watch the typical “Dad! Stop it! Ugh, you’re embarrassing me!” argument. Eventually, they did switch seats with him, but he only continued to annoy them throughout the night.

- The weird guy with the joint.

Just because you passed it to that pretty girl and she acceptedit with a big smile, does not mean she’s going to sleep with you. Hell, she’s hardly going to look at you again. You had no shot from the beginning. And now you’re out of weed.

- The guy trying really, really hard to get laid.

The couple who was clearly on a second or third date in front of us (not awkward enough for the first day, but definitely not comfortable enough for say, the 20th) was doing everything you would expect people on an early date to do. If they were going to a club, not a DMB concert.

Let’s start with the girl, who chose a silky halter top and the tiniest, tightest white shorts I have ever seen in my life — a strange hybrid of spandex and latex paint that must be applied with two shoe horns and a turkey baster because omigod were they tight. And tiny. And she was, well, not tiny. You can imagine the backside visual we had.

The guy either came straight from work or was trying to impress her with his office duds and over zealous use of his BlackBerry. Seriously, he took the thing out every three minutes to show her how the camera worked. Dude, it’s not that cool.

He refrained from touching the spandexed hiney all night (thank you for that, office dude. I might have lost my dinner otherwise.), but the “casual” bumping into each other during every song left little to the imagination. I wonder how far he got. I mean, he did buy her at least two $8 Bud Lights. What a gentleman.

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