8 Things

Okay, so I was tagged for this meme, like, three weeks ago, and I've just been so busy I haven't had time to post it. So here goes: 8 Things You Don't Know About Me. (I don't think, anyway.)

1. I was a roleplaying game addict in college. True! I had a character on Shadowrun, a jazz-singing elf who managed to befriend the head of the Yakuza AND the Ancients. (Trust me, that's impressive.) The writer in me loved it because it was like writing a story where all the characters wrote their own part of the plot, and the shy-in-real-life, lousy-at-conversationalist in me loved that I could type everything instead of having to talk--I'm so much wittier and eloquent when I'm behind a keyboard. I'd log on as soon as I got home from class and stay on until I went to bed; my roommate actually got to the point where she had trouble falling asleep if I wasn't typing. :)

2. Dan and I not only met on eHarmony.com, but we're in some of their commercials, both on TV and the radio. When they first started doing commercials, we were on all the time, but now you don't see them as much.

3. I wrote my first novel in junior high. I used to write during my other classes, two lines of text per line on the notebook paper so I could squeeze more in and not go through paper so fast, and at lunch my friends would pass around the pages I'd completed and keep up with the story. It was really melodramatic--surprise, surprise, given I was in seventh grade--and until 2002 it was the longest piece of writing I'd ever done (and the only book I'd ever finished).

4. I sang in the Black Choir in college. That's what it was actually called, the Black Choir, which tells you just how much I stuck out.

5. I've seen the musical Les Miserables 7 times.

6. In 2002 I went on an Alaskan cruise, and the ship had a piano bar where you could do karaoke with live accompaniment. The piano guy could play pretty much anything, and he'd play whatever he felt like until someone made a request, and when you requested something he'd let you sing it if you wanted, microphone and everything. So one night I went and requested a song and sang along, and then people started giving me requests. I ended up singing for two hours, and at the end of it we'd packed the bar. I sang every night for the rest of the cruise, and one night someone asked if I knew anything from Les Miz. Ha! I can sing practically the entire libretto! So we did, like, four songs from that, and the next day I had two people ask me who I'd been when I'd toured with the musical!

7. I've only read three of my dad's books--and none of them was The Case for Christ.

8. I hate being outside.

Upon reviewing this list, I have to say I am probably one of them most uninteresting people on the Internet.

I know I'm supposed to tag 8 other people or something like that, but I think everyone I'd usually tag for this kind of thing has already done it in the last month or so. Sorry I'm breaking the chain--I'm not gonna have bad luck for the next 8 years or anything, am I?

Wean-y, whiny, woe!

Hell hath no fury like Abby when she's told she can't nurse. WOW. Last night was the first night I didn't nurse her at all once she fell asleep. Up until now, I've been cutting her off after 30 seconds and making her go back to sleep wit her paci and not, um, me. She was doing pretty well, with just the occasional crying bout that was more plaintive and tired than actually mad, and I could usually get her back to sleep with some gentle shushing and back-rubbing. The last two nights I've gotten her to bed in the first place by nursing her for a few minutes and then giving her the paci; she hasn't gone straight to sleep but she hasn't been as roly-poly and crazy as she used to be, either, so last night I decided to take the leap and cut her off after that initial nurse. She slept for about 2.5 hours and then woke up, which is par for her, and I went in and cuddled her and shushed her and told her that the milk went night-night.

Enter screaming banshee.

I've never seen Abby that kind of upset before. She was screaming a new kind of scream, and kicking me, and alternately slapping and grabbing at my chest. I'd try to pick her up and she'd throw herself out of my arms. I couldn't help but laugh, which I know sounds totally heartless and cruel, but honestly, it was like she was possessed or something, and all I could think was, "Holy overreaction, Batman! It's just thirty seconds of milk!"

This lasted for about 10 minutes before she managed to worm her hand under my shirt and, um, grab me. And then--silence. I'd been stopping her from putting her hands up my shirt because I was afraid she'd be like, "Hey, they're here, let me at 'em!" But apparently the skin contact was the only comfort she needed. She was pretty worked up, so it took her awhile to fall asleep, but other than the hiccuppy leftovers from crying, she was quiet. The rest of the times she woke up she'd start getting upset, but I'd just shove her hand up my shirt and she's calm down pretty quickly. Go figure. Whatever works, eh?

We have our tickets for our flight to Dallas in July, so I've been pretty motivated to make sure she's fully weaned and used to not nursing anymore to sleep so that when my parents take her for that weekend she'll be okay. After we get the nights down pat (or close) we'll start working on the daytime naps. With the price of gas going the way it is, it's getting awfully expensive to drive her around twice a day...