Having trouble falling asleep? Read this.

My blog's purpose is twofold. First, I've kept a journal since I was seven. My internal monologue never shuts the hell up. Dumping my thoughts onto blogger puts my mind at ease because I know that these (poorly filtered and foolishly public) thoughts are safely stored for future pondering. (Unintentional alliteration. I am accidentally poetic.) The other reason I keep this blog is to have backup for my crap memory.

I've been making good use of my quiet house every night after work, reading like a fiend. As a result, I've neglected my memory keeping. Anyone who is reading this can probably stop now. This is seriously just a recap of things I've done in the last two weeks that I don't want to forget but don't want to write individual posts about.

Saturday, Nov 5 - went to Rock and Roll hotel with Leanah and her friend. Both are kitchen designers at a place where I worked briefly. The story of my quitting this place is apparently legendary, as Leanah's friend asked if I'm the one who... (I remember what I did.) I'm a little embarrassed, but this happened a million years ago when I was young and dumb. I'm not that young anymore. Anyway, we saw a band called Dirty Names. They were fun. The audience was mostly college aged and I felt slightly geriatric. I guess an "older" (Jesus, I'm only 33,) woman can either be a cougar or a grandma while an "old" dude at a club just seems like a creepy perv. I'm not pleased that I lumped myself in the geriatric category, but then, I'm not pleased with any of those options. Whatever. These college kids will see one day that life does not end at 25 or 30, and when they do, my children (if I have them) will be glaring at them, wondering why old people are in their club. C'est la vie.

Thursday, Nov 10 - went to Rams Head On Stage to see Charlie Mars with Sheila. I'm so glad I met Sheila. What a fun, music-loving gal. She has no qualms about driving from northern Virginia to Annapolis after work to see a show. I like that quality in a friend. Since I'm reminding myself of things in this post, I need to send Sheila some CD's. Will get on that this weekend. We saw some disturbing things at that show, that had nothing to do with Charlie's wonderful performance on stage. After the show, Charlie was signing CD's. I didn't know he would be at the merch table, so as I was buying a CD, I was surprised to see him right in front of me, asking if I'd like for him to sign it. It's amazing how I can form sentences when it's a musician that I do not have a crippling crush on. (No offense to CM. He's obviously crush-worthy.) I didn't get to talk to him for long though, because Sheila and I were hip-checked by some girls who were imploding with glee to see him. I get it. (But girls, you must learn not to be so rude!) I went home and went to bed knowing that I could sleep in since the next day was a holiday. This is what another Charlie would call, "winning."

Friday, Nov 11- I'm sure things happened during my day off, but I have no recollection. That evening though, Matt and I went to the Verizon Center for a Foo Fighters show. This show rocked.my.world. Holy smokes, did they rock! Some of the best shows that I've seen are the ones where the band or singer returns to their hometown. (e.g. Springsteen at Giants Stadium.) Virginian Dave Grohl was basically a walking, talking, (or screaming, guitar-wailing) fame boner as he led Verizon Center in a wave with his face while saying, "I never thought I would be able to lead thousands of people in a wave with my FACE!" So, okay, we indulged him, but it was a small price to pay for THREE hours of non-stop rock. Before the show, Matt and I went to Carmine's for dinner and Dave met us there with his date Jackie. They didn't have tickets, but found a scalper who was desperate to unload his criminal stubs minutes before showtime. My ears rang for three days.

Saturday, Nov 12 - Matt and I woke up early (this was difficult!) and met some friends in Rehoboth Beach, DE. We did some shopping, drinking, eating. Before we left, Matt and I took a midnight stroll on the beach. Okay, it was more like 9:30. The moon was close to full and there was a chill in the air. I love the beach in the fall and winter. (And always.)

Saturday, November 19. I woke up at 4 in the morning to catch a train that would pick Angie up in Philadelphia, and then we both hopped off in Manhattan. We did not have a plan - we were just going to see where the day would take us. Throughout the day, we ducked into shops as we passed them. We went to Union Square market which is all Christmasy right now. I bought myself a necklace and I bought other people nothing. We walked to some store in the East Village that was supposed to have amazing deals, but when something that is marked 45% off started at $1,200, it's not so amazing for us regular folk. Also, some of these designer things are super-fug. Or maybe we need to live in a chic city to wear them... The wild $700 Fendi boots that I saw would be kind of a spectacle in Severna Park, Maryland.

I read about a ticket lottery for the indefinitely sold out Book of Mormon, so we went to the Eugene O'Neill theater to see if we could score some deeply discounted tickets. I know that these tickets are highly sought after, but we could not believe the crowd. All of the lottery tickets had been distributed when we arrived, but people were still racing from Broadway to get in line. Since we were there, Angie and I went to the TKTS booth to see if we could find another play. We got tickets to Rent!, Off Broadway. It totally blew. It was very dated and the music and plot sucked. We were happy to have a break though and we were at least able to laugh about how terrible the play was. (The actors were all fine though. It was the play that sucked.) We were going to go to Blossom after the show, but we did not make a reservation. We thought we were having dinner unfashionably early at 5 pm, and that it wouldn't be a problem, but we were wrong. We ended up going to the place next door, Le Grainne Cafe. Instead of a healthy, vegetarian meal, we shared a Nutella crepe and hazelnut ice cream for dinner. The cafe was really cute, our waiter was very attentive and friendly, and the patrons in this Chelsea restaurant were perfectly cast for our people-watching. We started to walk towards Penn Station, hoping to find some stores that were still open. We ended up going to a nail salon to get manicures and massages. It was the perfect way to end a long day in the city.

On Sunday, I slept in. It was glorious and worth mentioning. If anyone actually read this, I hope my adventures put you to sleep, as well. Bonne nuit.

Answering the dreaded question: When are you going to have a baby?

Matt and I were having a nice lunch with friends over the weekend when it happened. Out of nowhere, our friends asked, "when are you guys going to have kids?" I wasn't prepared for it even though it happens at least once every couple of months. I have plenty of rehearsed responses, but they're mostly pretty bitchy because I get irritated by the notion that we're supposed to do anything. Having babies is just what you do after you're married. We've been married for almost six years. What are we waiting for?

I go back and forth and back again. Maybe I put too much thought into this, but maybe people should put a lot of thought into the enormous decision to bring a person into this world. I worry about big things like climate change, droughts, loss of resources, overpopulation. I worry about teaching my kids how to be individuals without being bullied in the land of suburban clones. Maybe it's selfish, but I worry that I haven't quite figured out what I am doing with my life, and I know that if I have a baby, I will be putting all of my dreams on the shelf, to be dusted off in my empty nest years, sometime in the 2030's. And for those who do think that it is selfish to worry about myself first, well, I'd rather think about that now, than resent my baby for killing my dreams. For those who are reading that the wrong way, I do not want to resent my baby. I want my child to grow up with a mother who is confident with her career and satisfied with her lifestyle. I am not that person right now and I'm terrified that I never will be. I also worry about what a child will do to our marriage, because I am realistic about such things. Marriage can be difficult, but we only have ourselves to worry about. Making decisions that will make or break the life that we are responsible for is crazy scary.

Still, even with all of those valid concerns, it takes one cherubic smile from a gurgling baby in a grocery cart to send my ovaries into overdrive. A quick round of peek-a-boo in the check out line will send them into hysterics while I wonder if I really just felt a pang in my uterus. Is there anything better than a baby's belly laugh? Yes. I remember watching the snuggliest five month old boy who just wanted to be held for the entire afternoon. He rested his head on my shoulder and let out these precious sighs of warmth on my neck, filling the air between us with bottle-fed baby breath. So sweet.

Matt and I have successfully avoided conception for years. We have never actively "tried" to have a baby, but there was this one night when being careful took a backseat to the moment. A few weeks later, my doctor gave me a prescription that cannot be taken if pregnant. Knowing that the medicine could make me sick, I wanted to start it during the weekend so that I would be home if the side effects were bad. I wasn't expecting my period for another few days, but to be on the safe side, I decided to take an early home pregnancy test. I followed the instructions, placed the stick on the bathroom counter, and went to the kitchen to unload the dishwasher. I needed to do something besides stare at the stick because those 3-5 minutes are even longer than treadmill minutes. When I returned to the bathroom, I was stunned to see the very clear result: Pregnant.

I scared the dog when I reacted to the test with a loud laugh followed by a very loud, "what the F?!" I just stared at the test. Things started to make sense. I was so incredibly tired that I could hardly function. I was pretty weepy, but then again, I usually am before my period, too. Maybe I was not imagining that my bra cups runneth over, though. I was completely overwhelmed, but I was happily overjoyed by the surprise. All of those scary doubts were still present in my mind, but I was consumed with the idea of becoming a mother. Wow. What a beautiful privilege to be a woman and grow a life inside of me! What a sucky lot though, to have to push that life out only to have it turn into a smart ass who gives me lip in about twelve years. Oh, shit. Overwhelmed.

Matt was at work where he can't really talk on the phone. I didn't want to tell him over the phone anyway. Waiting for him to get off of work was torture. Funny enough, I had a baby shower to attend that day. True to form, I waited until the last minute to get a gift. I sent Matt a text asking him to meet me at Babies R Us to help me pick out a gift for our friend. He met me there and we walked around for a bit, in this sea of tiny clothes and the millions of necessary accessories that come along with these little people. I asked him to hold my purse while I picked up a large baby bedding set that I had no intention of buying. I told him that there was a card and a pen in my purse. He reached into my bag and pulled out the only thing that was in there besides my wallet. The pregnancy test. His reaction? A very loud laugh, followed by "what the F?!" Like me, Matt was overwhelmed, but his eyes were filled with joy.

That night, I had one of those surreally vivid dreams. Matt and I were riding through Australia in a rugged Jeep. We drove on a narrow road that led us into an incredibly deep valley. I remember feeling the tightness in my chest as Matt shifted gears and we fought gravity to drive straight up and out of the valley. When we escaped, we found our destination before us: the beach. As we laid our beach towels on the warm sand, we felt darkness and doom rising above us. When we looked up, there was a tidal wave. I woke up before the crash, but my heart was still racing. I'm not sure if this dream was representing how overwhelmed I felt about this life-changing news, or if it was my subconscious foreshadowing what would happen next.

Somewhere in between that Saturday morning and my doctor's appointment the following week, the pregnancy ended. My blood test detected a trace of hCG, much less than the amount that was in my system when I took the home test. In a thriving pregnancy, that number would have grown. A few days later, my period/miscarriage started and I was surprised by how sad I felt for the end of something that barely had time to sink in. It is not uncommon for a pregnancy to end without a woman even knowing that she was pregnant. Had I not taken the test, I would have attributed my late period to a stressful month and thought nothing of it. I hope I never know this early again.

Is it weird to share all of this? Yeah, I think so, too. Is this a story that people really want to hear while watching college football and drinking beer?

When our friend asked us the dreaded question over lunch the other day, Matt changed the subject while I struggled to hide my irritation. Usually, this question brings out a special flavor of bitchy that I reserve for those who think that it's uncool for women to just decide not to have kids. I am still irritated that people do not leave such women alone. I am not sure, but I might still be one of those women. Even after the joyful prospect of parenthood, we are not taking this decision lightly. I'm sure that our friends did not mean to upset us. They have no clue what just happened in our lives... and that is exactly why the question must never be posed. I don't share this blog with my friends, but this post is the long answer to their question.

We promise not to keep it a secret if it happens, but if there are fertility issues, (and this one incident does not necessarily indicate that there are), I do not want to discuss them in an Irish pub. If we cannot have children, I do not want pity and if we choose not to have a kid, I don't care to hear any one's opinion on the matter. We will be happy if it happens, and we will be okay if it doesn't. Just please, stop asking. 

Rachael Yamagata - Baltimore Sound Stage

On Wednesday night at Sound Stage in Baltimore, my friend Renee and I had the pleasure of finally seeing Rachael Yamagata perform. Her latest album, Chesapeake, was released a couple of weeks ago. I bought it the day before the concert and it was love at first listen. I have noticed that I am too liberal with the word love when it comes to music. Most days at work, I listen to my iPod on shuffle and skip through hundreds of songs that I was once enamored with. I know, I just know that I will still be listening to Chesapeake several years from now.

I know nobody on this planet will watch a nine minute video, but you're really missing out if you don't listen to this. A highlight of the show was watching Bryan Ewald, a local guitar master, get some hometown love from the Baltimore crowd after a fantastic solo during Sunday Afternoon. He has some regular standing gigs in Annapolis, which will resume once this tour ends, so if you're a local, you should check him out. Be warned: I am not an attentive videographer. I totally just propped my iPhone on my lap and lost myself to the song, repositioning the phone from time to time. There are thumbs and shakiness, but ignore all of that. The ol' iPhone captures sound pretty well for a phone. Go ahead and hit play, lean back, close your eyes, and drift into this ethereal arrangement about ending a bad relationship from Rachael's second album, Elephants ... Teeth Sinking Into Heart.

Sunday Afternoon

The next couple of songs are from the new release, Chesapeake which is playing while I write this. You must see her if you have the chance. It was well worth the wait as a fan who has missed her every time she has been in town. She met with fans afterwards and she was so warm and inviting. She was really easy to talk to and seemed to be very humble and sweet. It's always refreshing when artists are friendly and gracious with their fans.

My 90's time-warp continues. Matthew Sweet - Girlfriend Tour

I'm in a 90's time-warp, and lucky for me, the 90's are supposedly "back." I'm not wearing Doc Martens and chokers, but thanks to Netflix and reunion/anniversary tours, I have been revisiting the television shows, movies, and music from my high school days. 

Last week, Matthew Sweet came to town. This tour is a celebration of the 20th anniversary of the release of Matthew Sweet's album, Girlfriend. Twenty years later, Mr. Sweet sounds exactly the same. This was a really fun night of classic 90's power pop. (Did I just classic 90's? Yikes.)