So when I said that my pregnant belly is about as far out as my 36D's, I was exaggerating.

Truth be told, my belly is bigger than the average 14 week pregnant chick, but I've been told that it's basically because my organs are being moved around to accomodate my growing uterus.

That's some crazy stuff, eh?

The wee laddie (or lassie) is about the size of a lemon right now- like 3 1/2 inches.

It's very hard to imagine that I have a little human with a brain and fingers and stuff growing inside of me...

Wow.

Around the time of my July post, my husband did this to me.

Yup.

There's a wee little Brightstuff baking in the oven.

As of today, dear friends, I am officially 13 weeks pregnant.

This is the little bean's 12th week ultrasound. He's supposed to be about 3 inches long (about the size of a lime- give or take a few inches) and weighs about an ounce or so.

Crazy stuff.

I find it difficult to believe that I have this little person growing and just chilling out inside my body. Right now, he's way too small for me to feel anything (though I'm convinced those little twinges I feel are definitely the baby and not last night's pizza coming back to haunt me). When we went for that ultrasound, we watched as the baby hopped up and down and waved at the camera.

Seriously.

Words cannot describe the feeling of awe I felt seeing all of this going on inside of me.

Anyway...

The past few months have been weird adjusting to the idea. As a result of being knocked up, I've had to say goodbye to three of my very dear friends. The first two....

It was a sad, but necessary farewell.

Truthfully, I only really miss having a beer now and again. The smokes, I can do without.

The third thing I've said farewell to is my figure.

While I was never a small girl, the one thing I was always proud of was my hourglass figure.

Think Gauguin-ish.

However, that has certainly all changed. My belly's sticking out in the front. If you look at me head on, I don't look pregnant.

If you get me in profile...jeez.

Let's just say that my protruding belly is almost as far out as my 36D's.

I'm looking noticeably pregnant and couldn't hide it if I wanted to. I had to "come out" at work because people were beginning to guess when I was only 9 weeks along!

Oh, and before it gets confusing, no- we do not know the sex of the baby. Not only is it too early for that, but I really don't think I want to know just yet.

Besides, we are both convinced the baby's a boy and have been liberally referring to it as such. The Chinese Lunar Calendar (http://www.thelaboroflove.com/chart/cal.html ) says we're getting a boy so of course, we MUST be getting a boy, right?

Anyway.

So that's the first big, excellent news.

My life is good. I can't complain.

Good grief.

It's been nearly 4 months since I've been here and for that, I'm really sorry. Really.

I'm down on my penitent knees begging for your forgiveness.

For real.

I was pretty much convinced that the Mindsay gods-that-be might've taken it upon themselves to delete my poor neglected blog, but alas- she's still here, standing on her poor wobbly legs.

I'm sure I've lost all of my friendly neighborhood readers.

No worries, though.

I started this blog for myself and no one else, really. Like my life changed, I'm sure other people's lives have moved on.

Anyway.

Much has happened in my life since I was last here.

Of course, cliches like "My life has changed so much" are meaningless until I explain what I'm talking about.

So without further ado....

I have been admittedly negligent of my blog for months and have gotten flack from a few of my readers.

What can I say?

Real life gets in the way, and a day becomes 6 days, then weeks and months go by...

I constantly think about cultivating my life as a writer and was not very happy about how lazy I'd gotten with this thing.

Anyway...

My school year got progressively crazier, and since summer's been around, I've been doing everything I can to get this apartment in order, I've joined a gym so I can get my fat ass in order, and I'm preparing for several different struggles that are looming ahead (back to school, taking my final certification exam, fighting my landlord in court, and...well...something else I can't talk about just yet).

Anyway, in light of recent events in the news and other things I want to discuss, I'll try to update as much as possible.

I pinky swear.

A sister has a life, after all...

My Old Man and I went shopping for a costume that he needed for an upcoming performance so we went to our local Halloween Adventure store.

While browsing around,  I saw this:

They're reminiscent of the ones that Mickey (may he rot in hell) Rooney wore as Audrey Hepburn's Japanese neighbor in that way overrated piece of fluff, "Breakfast at Tiffany's".

They're about as realistic as the ones he wore, at least.

They're called "Chop Suey" specs.

Obviously disgusted, I turn to my husband and say sarcastically, "Wow, Honey! Look! I wonder if they have matching buck teeth to go with them!"

Without missing a beat, the salesperson goes, "Oh! We sell those over there!" (gesturing to the next aisle over).

Ugh.

Guess where they're made?

CHINA.

Not too long ago, my Old Man told me about an incident that happened in the early days of our dating life.

At the time, he lived in Astoria, Queens.

I went to visit him.

His roommate's mother was visiting from Israel. I was introduced to her and we went about our business.

Not too long after that, the roommate laughingly told my Old Man that her mother said, "Oh...she (meaning me) looks like one of the INTELLIGENT ones."

Nice, huh?

Would've been just as offensive if I had turned to my then-boyfriend and said, "OH! She looks like one of the GENEROUS ones!"

Did you ever think what it would be like if The Confederacy had won the Civil War?

The new "mockumentary", "The C.S.A.", explores the "what ifs".

Watch the trailer.

Very, very bizarre indeed.

http://www.csathemovie.com/

Are you laughing?

Adam Carolla, former co-host of that pinnacle of moronitude and slob humor show, "The Man Show", thinks it's funny.

He did a skit poking fun at the Asian Excellence Awards and thought saying "ching-chong"" was so funny that he did it 42 times- consecutively. http://racerelations.about.com/b/a/244914.htm

Are you laughing your ass off?

Woo-hoo!! What a hoot!

What next? "Me Chinese! Me make joke!" skits?

How about resurrecting that bucktoothed slanty-eyed, glasses-wearing abomination that Mickey Rooney portrayed in "Breakfast at Tiffany's"?

You up for some "Chinese, Japanese, dirty knees..."?

Remember when I said that I am usually shocked when I hear about things like this?

I'm getting less and less surprised.

Asians are considered "fair game" when it comes to stuff like this. We're considered the folks who don't fight back- the invisible and silent minority.

Unreal.

Stereotypes and blatant racism are, plainly put, for the feeble minded.

They're for the folks who can't conceive of, comprehend or imagine viewing life outside of their field of vision. It's easier after all to cling to the old standby- the belief that people are, because of the color of their skins and their cultural, racial or ethnic background, a certain way.

Oh, the humanity.

Last week, Amy and I went to the Whole Foods Market after breakfast with Mo, Ross, and my Old Man.

Old Man decided not to accompany us for shopping after seeing the nightmarish line and hightailed it back home.

As we waited on the massive line, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turn around to see a gigantic man leaning over toward me and grinning like he was a cat that just swallowed a goldfish.

"Hey!"

He looked ridiculously familiar to me- like he COULD conceivably be a cousin or an old friend or an acquaintance- something. In fact, for a split second, I even thought he was my cousin, Ja.

As I shook his hand,  it dawned on me that I had no idea who the hell he was.

Freak: "How are you?"

Me (feeling kind of weird now): "Uh...I don't know you...I thought you were someone else..."

(I see Amy kind of smirking in the background)

Freak: (speaking low)"You look like an interflectual"

Me: "Excuse me.....???????"

Freak: "You look like an intellectual."

Me: " Okay...Uh...right...okay..." (pushing my basket and not looking at the freak)

Freak: "Can I talk to you some time?"
Me: (holding up my left hand) "Uh...I'm married..."

I turn around to keep going up the line and the next thing I know, he's pulled out a card and is handing it to me.

Freak: "If you ever want to call..."

Me: "I'M MARRIED!"

Besides being skeeved out for hours after about the exchange, I pretty much let it go and forget about it.

Until...

Fast forward to Friday.

I'm on my way to work at about 6:30 am (you know how lazy us teachers are), walking through the subway tunnel that connects 6th avenue to 7th avenue.

My cd player just died on the way there but I still kept the headphones in my ears.

I don't know about anyone else, but just having the headphones in my ear with nothing turned on sometimes works to efficiently block out the world that I don't want to acknowledge at 6:30 am in the morning.

So there I am, world almost perfectly muffled out, trudging on my way to another day of civil slavery in the NY public school system when what to my wondering eyes should appear....?

A big, lumbering doofus who looks strangely like that freak that called me an "INTERFLECTUAL" last week.

Freak (grinning like he was my best friend. He steps directly in front of me): "HEEEEYYYYY!!!!!!!!!"

Although I am freaked out as all hell, I don't bat an eye.

I move out of his way and just keep walking like I didn't hear or see him.

ICK.

He probably originally recognized me because he probably sees me on my way to work EVERY DAY.

This only tells me that I'm probably going to see much, much more of him.

UGH.

My Old Man thinks I should invest in some Krav Maga classes since, after all, it's been about 4 years since I've been to kung fu and my tiger crane reflexes are a bit rusty.

You never know when you might have to bust some skeevy man in the face at 6:30 in the morning on the way to work... 

Happy Valentine's Day.

May you have whatever it is you want on this day.

I got an MP3 player from my Old Man, which is exactly what I wanted!

Sorry I haven't updated as of late.

Been a busy little bumblebee these days.

I've been elected to one committee at school- the School Leadership Team- and I've also joined another committee- The United Federation of Teachers Staff Committee(or whatever the damn thing is called). NYC has also implemented an extra 37 1/2 minutes per day  for small group tutoring so I get home later.

On we go...

I was elected to the School Leadership Team a few months ago- by a LANDSLIDE, I might add...

Yup.

Don't hate me because I'm beautiful.

On this team, I get to sit around for about 3 extra hours after work and make big decisions about what the common goals for the school for the next year are to be. The only problem is that other members of the team (namely some of the parents) pretty much are only there to pick up the little bit of money allotted to the team.

Seriously.

The other team- the UFT committee- is for teachers to air any issues that they have with administration. I'm there to disseminate info to the other folks on my grade. The only problem is that the administration, represented by the principal, NEVER shows up.

As for the 37 1/2 minutes...well...as a condition of the contract the union had been fighting for, we were told that our day would be extended 37 1/2 more minutes. So the day that usually ended at 3:00 pm now ends at 2:50 pm, but only for the students who are NOT part of the extended day tutoring program. Those kids stay until 3:27 pm...and 1/2...

Following me?

Keep following...

The only problem with this is that since only a certain portion stays and a certain portion leaves, you have to spend a good 5 to 10 minutes dismissing the kids who are leaving. That takes a big bite out of the 37 1/2 minutes so what you're actually left with is...ta DA! Just about 27 1/2 minutes!

Once you get back to your students, you have to get them all settled in (because the fact of the matter is, the kids who need the extra help are the ones who have serious behavioral problems and prety much all have ADHD).  That's another 5 minutes or so.

About how much tutoring do you think I get in?

I'll venture to say that it's just about 22 minutes...and 1/2. 

Bang up idea, that.

You can thank Mayor Bloomberg and his toady, Joel Klein, for that stroke of genius.

Besides all of that stuff, I've been sick with some sort of hellish curse of a cold that won't go away. I've had the bastarding thing for a total of almost 4 weeks- a few days a few weeks ago and also the last 2 weeks.

I'm coughing and barking  like I swallowed somebody's german shepard. Never much fun on a crowded L train but hey, it sure gives me more than a few feet of space when I'm coughing like I just smoked some rock.

Ugh.

In any case, my bumblebee ass has just been OUT OF IT.

I do have much to talk about.

So much has been happening lately that I'm kind of pissed that I haven't been updating this thing. I mean, shit! The world's about to end because of some cartoons, and Dick Cheney shot someone in the face, for the love of Jaysus!

Oh yes. I will return.

(I wrote this on an online forum in response to this really shitty article about teachers and the public school system.)

	http://abcnews.go.com/2020/Stossel/story?id=1500338
	I think we can acknowledge that there's a problem with the educational system here, but it's not just one thing, and that's what pisses me off. It's not JUST the teachers, or the curriculum, or the funding, or the administration...it's just not so cut and dry. It makes me livid when I hear people bashing the teachers- as IF we have any control over what we can and cannot teach- or do. As if we can force a student to sit down or stop acting up or stop cursing. You hear people talk about home-schooling being the answer to the problem (how many times have you heard about home-schooled children success stories?) but hell- what teacher wouldn't want to work one-n-one or in a small group, right? If I could do that all the time, I'd be ecstatic and the students I had would be advanced. Then we're told that it doesn't matter how big the class is...it's the teacher. The problems are so deeply embedded and no one seems willing to understand that. Part of the article mentions a teenager who could barely read on a first grade level, right? Then he went to Sylvan (private tutoring) and went up two grade levels in 72 hours. I wonder why his mother didn't notice something was wrong? I wonder how many times a teacher might've tried to have him evaluated only to be deflected by an administrator who thought that it was a bad idea (has happened to me at least 6 times), a parent who didn't think anything was wrong ("My son does not need 'special help'!"- COUNTLESS times), or a principal who refused to hold the child back (supposedly there's no social promotion in NYC, but in my school, we were told to  promote kids up to the third grade. I had the third grade for three years and wondered why 1/4 of my kids didn't receive services or get  held back). I find it difficult to believe that through all that time there was not one teacher who didn't care enough to try to get that child help. I don't believe it at all. I'm at school every day by 7:00 am. I go from downtown to uptown every day to an "at risk"school where the kids run in the halls all day long and call teachers "b*tches" if they tell them to go back to their class. I was famously referred to as a "no-necked black b*tch"by a 9 year old. My 2nd graders try to learn as they listen to the 3rd graders in the class above them throwing tables, screaming and doing Lord knows what. Let's not forget the howling and yelling and screaming going on in the hallways throughout the school day. Oh- and did I mention the student who runs through the halls all day who has hit the principal twice and knocked a co-worker of mine unconcious? He's still there, of course... It's all our fault, isn't it? Articles like that make me sick.

From the mouth of a coworker who went to visit her biracial grandchild:

" Black children need to eat more. I know White children don't need to eat as much but Black children! They (Black children) need more to eat than milk."

...and her grandchild IS half-white.

Duh.

You can see why I love where I work so much.

After much deliberation, we decided to have a New Years's party.

I spent my whole vacation cleaning up the apartment, shopping, and readying myself for a fine evening of debauchery and drunken mayhem.

Unfortunately, dear husband and I ended up cancelling the party and we rang in the new year with violent bouts of puking and diarrhea (respectively)- no doubt the result of some form of food poisoning as both of his parents were laid up in their house from the same thing.

Happy fucking new year.

Back in the mid 90's, I was a buyer for a bookstore in Greenwich Village.

As a buyer, I had to meet with vendors and authors who wanted me to sell their books.

I was feted, given exotic and strange gifts (my favorite were these Romeo y Julieta cigars that were smuggled out of Cuba), given alcohol- all in efforts to get me to sell books. I even once "modeled" for the cover of an erotica book, but that's a story for another day.

The freakiest and most annoying people, without a shadow of a doubt, were the Church of Scientology folks.

They wanted me to order and do a window display of nothing but Dianetics, which would mean I would have to order a couple hundred to a thousand of those orange and black books.

As a special gift for doing that, they dangled the prospect of having John Travolta (Tom Cruise wasn't as big back then) *actually* coming in to do a SIGNING of the books- you know, as if he actually wrote it.

Pushy vendor was in there for at least an hour trying to schmooze me into it.

I ended up ordering about 6.

They collected dust where I put them-  the SCIENCE FICTION section, next to Battleship Earth and the rest of L. Ron Hubbard's non-selling science fiction (which, incidently, was ridiculous considering our sci-fi section sold pretty well).

My point you, ask?

 Oh, yes.

Tom Cruise is nuts.

http://biz.yahoo.com/prnews/051129/dctu052.html?.v=31