Today is my birthday, hurrah for me! I was supposed to work at my New and Exciting Job but lucky for me, the University doesn't let RA's start until Sept. 4th. Very, very good. Instead I have celebrated by receiving the first day of my NY Times subscription - I usually try to support the local paper but the local paper here is pretty limp and most importantly, carries some sad sack crossword that is simply no substitute for the NY Times, my daily addiction going on 10 years now. I am excited to get the Sunday paper - did anyone read the Sunday magazine a few weeks ago that had the article on A Year in a Life of marriage counseling and a really well composed article on - of all things, the typography of road signs? 'Twas good. So I took said newspaper and myself up the road a spell for a coffee and pastry breakfast and a poke through the thrift stores (picked up a copy of "Daddy Long-Legs" by Jean Webster that is a sentimental favorite) - so paper, coffee, thrift = three of my favorite things. I then shopped at the market for indulgences like really good cheese and Liberte yogurt and bread and grapes and the new Bust. What I really wanted was a new lipstick and a haircut but you can't have it all my friend.

Now I am stuck at home, waiting for the Storage Dudes to drop off our Giant Container of Household Belongings. I am excited about having non-plastic flatware and my toaster back and more than one pillow and a table - okay lots of things - but I'm not excited about unpacking it. Or the piles of boxes that will swamp our little apartment because they aren't worth unpacking when we are moving again in only 2 months.

Most importantly I am waiting for AH to arrive - T-minus 5 hours or so and counting. I don't know when I've been so excited for a human to show up on my doorstep. He's been in Milwaukee for business this whole week (home of Schlitz and Blatz beer, lord how I love those names) and it has been hard, hard, hard. With all this starting school and choosing between jobs and the new apartment, it has been lonely to be alone. Also, I had the first ultrasound yesterday and while I had my usual Grumptastic care experience (I'm guessing the Technician was not a morning person or else, just randomly hated me) it was rather amazing to see the little thing inside me kick and squirm and also, it has a heart and bones and a brain which is a big Phew! As for the sex...well, we still don't know. Little Pat wouldn't open up those legs, no matter how she/he was jiggled. But there is a strong suspicion on the Technician's part that it is a Girl. A girl. Huh. Not exactly what I had been thinking, even though it was 50% likely, I know. Immediately my mind swept ahead to body image issues and bad skin and terrible toys and role models and horrible boyfriends I would have to be nice to and teen pregnancy...isn't that a wonderful image of girlhood to have? But I swear to god, those were my immediate dismaying thoughts. In the meantime, until there is some kind of confirmation, I'm labelling the inhabitant "Calliope" after Middlesex. Anyway, afterwards I wept a little that he had missed that moment when it all became a little more real. Plus, I am tired of looking like the Single Mother in the waiting room - seriously, does every husband/partner come to every single appointment? I am ALWAYS the only one alone in the waiting room, receiving pitying glances and wondering if my wedding ring looks fake.

In other baby news, I was reading the new Elle (I have been buying magazines like a fiend to distract myself from loneliness and no TV or DVDs) and came across the disturbing image of Project Runway judge Nina Garcia...with her brand new baby. I can't tell you how wrong and odd it looked to see her "nurturing" a little baby. Also the accompanying article was all about how hard it was to get "fat" and pregnant and still be stylish and how thank god, her kid chose a time when empire waists were in. Blah to women who equate growing a human with getting fat and then hold the baby like an accessory while posing in their bikini in the accompanying photo. Also, the article said she was 41 - is it just me, or does she look older than 41?

Other random celebrity tidbit - I was browsing the bookstore the other day and found a book for middle-school girls about math by...Danica McKellar, aka Winnie Cooper of The Wonder Years. It turns out she is a mathematician, went and got her degree in Math. I'm unsure why this intrigued me so but it did. I should buy "Math Doesn't Suck" now so I can pass it on to my future daughter to reinforce the concepts and expectations that society will squash her down with.

3 cheers for Friday birthdays!