15: The DANCE PARTY

I was fortunate enough to be visited this past weekend by my oldest friend Miz Jaya as well as one of her fantastic children, Miz. Lola.


This was there first time Jaya has met L and I must say, it couldn't have gone better. After brunch one morning Jaya, L and Lola discovered their mutual love of Broadway musicals (West Side Story, Annie, Sound of Music and so on). What ensued was several hours of heavy duty dance party.

Even Gypsy got her mimosa on.

And although the photos have been destroyed, I will tell you that even I cut some rug for 'Fiddler on the Roof'.

14: Three numbers

200

(pounds)

50

(% effaced)

38

(F)

13: Mr. Joshua

There is a scene in the movie Lethal Weapon where, in an effort to illicit fear and demonstrate the infinite loyalty of his people, General Peter McAllister (main bad guy/Head of "Shadow Company") has his sociopath henchman Mr. Joshua (the glorious Gary Busey) hold a lighter under his own forearm. Mr. Joshua keeps a straight and steady gaze on the gentleman they are trying to threaten/scare while his arm burns. He holds still and emotionless for an impossibly long time, thereby demonstrating the lengths to which he is willing to go for his boss and, therefore, that he and his boss are not the type of fellows you'd want to cross.



In many prenatal classes (and generally, amongst the birthing crowd) there is a commonly mentioned exercise which involves holding an ice cube in the palm of your hand for five minutes. It's apparently excruciating and, in spite of appearances, not meant as a determinant of ones pain tolerance for childbirth but rather an exercise which will enlighten you to how you are likely to react and manage (or mismanage) pain stimulus.

L and I are scheduled to take an all-day intensive prenatal class in a couple of weeks and I'd like to opt out of the ice cube exercise in lieu of the one with an open flame - just to break up the monotony of the class.

12: the SHOWER

I got showered with baby and liked it.

L and I went to Los Angeles this past weekend where my dear friends KJ, Jen, and Kelly tossed me a baby shower. I was initially terrified that L and I would be forced to participate in all sorts of horrific, competitive shower games that involved eating baby food and pinning onesies onto clotheslines but my friends took my threats to boycott seriously and instead, threw the most perfect get together. There was fantastic food:


A diaper cake:


Dear friends - many of whom made onesies for Chum...



L - whose solidarity beard is, much like Chum, growing out of control:


And of course me and the kid: