Today is one of those crisp fall days - the temp dropped 20 degrees overnight to the very nice mid 70's range - with clear blue skies and scuffly leaves and getting off school early when it just seems such a shame to go home to your dark apartment and do homework. it is the right kind of day to pack a small bag and just be off in pursuit of adventure. But the driver half of us has the car at work where he is responsibly working and I will have to responsibly work tomorrow so I guess no spontaneous road trips or picnics loom on the horizon. Don't you ever long to have someone just sweep you up in their improbable and irresistible plans? I do, very very often. A fascinating and mysterious plan I don't have to make myself - is that too much to ask?

But instead I type these little dreams from atop my bed in between studying, a very prosaic girl. The bed has what we now call The Crater on my side. We just bought this (expensive) mattress with it's fantastic puffy comfort-top dealio a mere 6 weeks ago. And yet, undeniable crater-age has been worn into my side of the comfort-top. This upsets me as I don't feel THAT huge and fat yet and I really hate sleeping in worn down hollows made by my own body. Thankfully my slight husband does, and has happily traded sides with me. But I am starting to dent his side. I'm only 15 pounds heavier than I was! I guess it's concentrated in particular "pressure points", but still. It's demoralizing. And completely contradictory to how I feel about my looks these days. Here, I'll whisper something secret(I kinda wish I could stay pregnant forever). Honestly, I've never really looked or felt better, even with the giant stomach. That whole glow deal they talk about? True! So true! I have never once in my life known what it is like to look in the mirror and feel pretty good with what I see. To take 5 minutes to apply my make-up and do my hair and just not worry about it the rest of the day because my hair and my skin and everything else is just doing it's thing, looking good. To go sleeveless and low-cut and bare-legged and feel good in my own skin. Isn't it kind of sad it hasn't happened before now? I guess. But I always knew these hips would be good for something and lo and behold, they are. Even funnier, I dress a lot better now. I got stacks of maternity wear from my sister and sister-in-laws, all of whom have no compunction on dropping serious cash for nice clothes. I am finally a Woman, for lack of a better word. No sad jeans or hoodies or holey sneakers but good pieces that work well together in a variety of outfits, making me look grown-up but still me. I will be so sad to give these clothes up. And to be in the stage where people start monitoring how quickly you deflate back down, rather than how you are growing. I think I partially love it because there is no finer state, in my mind, than happy anticipation. I'm an Eve girl - I love Christmas Eve and the day-before and the plane ride to somewhere exciting, even more than the destination. I like wrapped presents more than I do unwrapped ones. Let's just stay in this happy limbo forever, okay? Until someone comes and whisks us away with their ridiculous and exciting plans.