what a week

Well, my birthday week left a little bit to be desired. Jane had a bad ear infection which resulted in throwing up (in one particular instance, on me, in Target), no sleeping, and general misery. We had some trouble throwing together a roster of babysitters for Jane to cover our day in New York yesterday, but it managed to work out. Greg and I were able to go in to see IN THE HEIGHTS yesterday - FINALLY - and I truly fell in love with this show. I was so psyched to have the opportunity to see the whole original Broadway cast, and, in particular, Beth's boyfriend and the show's creator, Lin-Manuel Miranda. It was such an amazing show and I cannot wait to see it again, because I know there was tons of stuff I missed. This show absolutely shot to my top five best shows ever, and possibly the top three.

Someday, when I get enough sleep, I will actually write more interesting blog entries, like how fascinated I was that John McCain plans to cut all spending except for his favorite hobby, the war. How fast this country is going even deeper into the shitter.

Instead, I leave you with this, to entice you to go see IN THE HEIGHTS! Go! Now! I insist!

Letterman love

I used to have a bit of an intellectual crush on David Letterman. I think it's back.

thirty five

It could have been as early as 15 - but definitely by 20 - that I decided that 35 was my scary "real adult" age. That it didn't matter how much I screwed up throughout my late teens, entire twenties, and early thirties, I really had to have my life together by the time I turned 35.

Lord, how those years flew by. I remember thinking, "I've got 15 years left 'til then" or "I've got 5 years left 'til then" and now I'm thinking "I've got eight hours left 'til then."

I don't see any major maturing going on between now and midnight, especially since I'll be having some cocktails with friends later this evening.

I mentioned this whole life theory to a friend who basically asked what it was I didn't think I had - I'm married, I've got the house, dogs, kid, good job. Health insurance. I pay my bills. I stayed home today with a sick kid and got puked on by her in Target. I actual squealed with delight when I realized the first presidential debate was on this Friday night. I claimed to Greg that watching it would be a "hot date." The other day, when checking the mailbox for birthday cards, I was even more excited to find a jury duty notice addressed to me - a first-ever. There is a part of me that thinks not only am I a real adult, I'm a lame-ass real adult to boot.

I suppose I expected to feel more grown-up at this point. As mentioned, I've got all the trappings of an adult. I definitely don't care what people think of me as much as I used to. I don't feel comfortable shopping in Abercrombie & Fitch anymore. I feel weird if I wear t-shirts with "funny" sayings on them. Clearly, there is some degree of growing up that has happened. But deep down, I just don't feel like an adult. Let's face it, my primary hobby, theater, is rooted in make-believe. I spent time today pondering if I should watch the first season of "Gossip Girl." I cannot wait until "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2" comes out on DVD.

The thing of it is, I really don't think most of my peers are that much more together than I am. I don't look around and think, look at all of these adults! To me, there is a level of humor that my generation - Gen X - is now retro, that I graduated from high school 17 years ago, that Sarah Palin is a mere 9 years older than me, that I have to go to a potty training seminar in a couple of weeks, that the same friends I have playdates with now are the ones who I drank myself sick with in college.

Here's the good news. I love being in my 30s leaps and bounds more than my 20s, and so to celebrate another birthday in this decade is a good thing. And while I still might think the word "poop" is funny, I am otherwise proud of all that I've accompished so far. And there's nothing scary about that.

with apologies to the gentlemen who read this blog.

I'm officially old.

Because I'm turning 35 in a couple of weeks, I have to get a baseline mammogram this year.

Happy freakin' Birthday to me.

Yeah, what he said.

Cape Cod, and other adventures

We took Jane on her first vacation last week - we went to Cape Cod with Greg's whole family (on his mother's side). Although Jane really didn't sleep well in her pack and play, it was otherwise a wonderful trip - the weather held, except for some rain during Saturday and Hannah blowing through Saturday night, and we had a lot of nice time to spend at the beach and hanging out on the boardwalk outside our rooms. We stayed in oceanfront rooms at this resort we go to every other year. It's really pretty nice and I just love being at the beach, so anytime I can open my door and look at the ocean, I'm a happy gal.

Greg's mother took over with Jane for a couple of hours a day, so I actually managed to get some time to myself as well, and nothing makes Amanda happier than sitting on the beach with a frozen drink in one hand and a book in the other. I didn't expect to get any Jane-free time so it was an unexpected and awesome bonus.

Jane really enjoyed herself. She had been having herself a cranky-a-thon for the previous week, so I was very apprehensive about the trip. Maybe it was all of the new people, maybe it was the fact that there was another baby there her own age (Greg's cousin had a baby last August), maybe it was all of the opportunity to be outside - I don't really know. All I know is she barely cried (except several times during each night) and always seemed to have something new to explore.

A note: packing for a trip with a baby is a lot like packing for a month-long trip, in the sense that there is barely any room in the car for the actual passengers. Holy hell, did we ever bring a lot of stuff, and I can honestly say, in the end, I don't really think I overpacked. She just needs a lot of shit.

In other news, Jimmy. Ah, Jimmy. I alluded to an adventure we had last night with Jimmy on my Facebook page, and I had intended to blog about it, but honestly, it's just so gross I think that probably no one on earth would really want to read the story. So the short version is: a horrifying thing happened with Jimmy's private parts last night, Greg whisked him off to the emergency vet, the problem essentially resolved itself before he even got there, he waited for two hours, got some antibiotics, and came home. I, on the other hand, was stuck at home, Greg didn't have his cell so I couldn't call him, and I bargained with God for Jimmy's life the whole time (truly, if you had seen what I saw, you would have been fearful for his life too).

He is, in true Jimmy fashion, just fine, after completely freaking us out and costing us a lot of money.

And that's about all I'm going to say about that.

seasons of love, indeed.

It's the end of an era.

Also, read this.

And then this.

This show has meant so much to my theater self. Yesterday I was thinking about how much my life has changed since I first saw it 11 years ago. Deep inside, there's still that 23-year-old who was trying to figure out her life and used RENT as her personal sountrack.

here's the thing.

I'm damn frightened of how much the super-conservatives are starting to embrace Palin. With her anti-gay marriage, pro-guns, anti-choice crazy-mofo agenda, she pretty much stands for everything I don't.

And, no, I don't think it's fair that young Bristol Palin gets the national spotlight thrust upon her during what is most likely the worst time of her life. I can't imagine what it is like for this teenager to have to plaster a smile on her face, and act all "yeah, I totally wanted to get pregnant now and get married now despite the fact that my life has barely begun" when she probably just wants to crawl under the covers and cry.

I don't judge her. Hell, no. Anyone who judges a pregnant teen should stop for a second and realize that there but for the grace of Trojan go most of us...it could happen to anyone, and it does happen to many, and the fact that she's keeping the baby, is, apparently, a choice that she made with her family, according to her mother.

Wait...what was that word? Was it...choice? Huh. So by giving her a choice, you're not saying she's a pro-abortion floozie, throw caution to the wind and let's get knocked up because hey, I can just go to the clinic in the morning and who cares! La dee da! She was just given a choice.

Keep the baby - hard decision. Life-altering decision. Terminate the pregnancy - hard decision. Life-altering decision. Either way you look at it, Bristol Palin - and all young women who find themselves pregnant way before they ever wanted to be - have to grow up fast, and make grown-up decisions that are best left for someone a decade older.

The fact that Palin herself had a baby just a few months ago that has Down Syndrome has further rallied the conservatives. See? She found out the baby had a chromosomal disorder and look - she kept him! Because she's pro-life! And anyone who is put in a situation where they find out during an ultrasound that something is very wrong with their child - a child they may have prayed for and hoped for -shouldn't have a choice to deal with the abnormality by terminating the pregnancy, even if it means the baby won't live outside the womb, or it will live a terribly compromised, painful life! That would be wrong! It's so black and white! Can't you see?

As we all remember, I got blood test results that indicated that there was an elevated risk that Jane had Down Syndrome. And during the three weeks between the test and the ultrasound that reassured us that everything was OK, Greg and I had to make a decision. Do we keep the baby, or terminate? 90% of Down Syndrome babies are terminated, as I read. Didn't matter. It wasn't even an option. We were keeping the baby no matter what.

So who is better? Palin, a Republican who doesn't believe in choice, and kept her baby? Or me, a Democrat who treasures choice, and would have kept her baby? See, pro-choice doesn't always mean pro-abortion. It just means pro-CHOICE. In the eyes of the socially conservative Republicans, Palin's moral ground is much higher than mine. Yet we made the same decision.

It KILLS me that Sarah Palin has a huge chance at being the next VP of our country, and possibly the next President as well. I cannot imagine that this mother does not want to ensure the fact that her daughters are given every opportunity to make the choices they want, and to dictate their own lives.

I'm sorry, but this cracked me up.