Sci Fi Night, Discounts, Coat Drive: Fun with the Preds

So this Saturday is Sci Fi night at the Preds game. A friend of mine will be there as a semi-professional costumed character. I'm trying to decide if I want to dress up.

I am a really big geek and have never done the dress up thing, so normally I already would have bought a fun geek chic costume. However, with Baby Ian on the way I really don't have the money or the figure for such things.

Plus, I'm trying to think of pregnant sci-fi characters. Padme from Star Wars, Vala from SG-1, Teyla from Atlantis....I don't know. Maybe I should be Jessica Artreides from Dune.

There supposedly is a contest for the costumes....I wonder what the prize is. $50, not dressing up. 37" TV, I am so there.

Speaking of being there, Paul and I can get you discounted tickets to Preds games! They started a new promo for season ticket holders that allows us to get discounts for our friends. Go to www.nashvillepredators.com/nicholson to view the list of games (they are in alphabetical order, not date order). Choose a game, then enter "predators" as your special offer code. The site will prompt you to login or create an account, and then you can buy tickets starting at $19.

Okay, one more cool Preds thing. I'm having a hard time finding info about it, but I saw posters about it at the Sommet Center last night. On Monday, December 15, the Preds are doing a "Skate with the Preds" coat drive at Southern Ice Arena. For $5 (skate rental included) you can skate at Southern Ice with some of the Preds. Participants are encouraged to bring coats to donate to the Community Resource Center Coat Drive. For more info, check out NowPlayingNashville -- the Preds site doesn't seem to mention it yet.

Dreary Day

Days like today make me think I should be a writer. There's just something about dreary, rainy days that make me feel like there is a meaningful story in me, just waiting to be written.

Of course it would be full of angst. Somehow dark, troubled writing feels like "real" writing to me. It has to be balanced with ridiculous romanticism as well, though -- Jane must find her Rochester, after all. It's strange, but writing that celebrates human accomplishment or drips happy self-awareness feel entirely fake to me. And that's not saying anything about the author of such happy fare; it's just that I can't relate to it, even if it is the author's true experience of life.

If you meet me, you wouldn't think I'm a dreary, gothic person. And I'm really not, although I do have my pessimistic days. I like puppies and kittens and generally have a very cheery outlook on life.

But if you are going to give me a book to read, I want it to be gray and brooding.

I don't think I could write a novel, though. No patience at all. Short stories would suit me better. I suppose it would suit my personality. I could write a gothic tale of intrigue and follow it with a story about a cat. Or perhaps the cat would be involved in the gothic intrique....

Music Geekiness

On the way home from a mini-vacation this weekend, Paul and I listened to Let Them Eat Cake on WRVU. I'd heard and enjoyed the show before then, but yesterday was the first time I really took notice of it.

The fabulous DJs had programmed a mix specializing in the Cold War and related topics, such as the atom bomb and spies. That was exactly what my long-dormant music geek needed to hear.

In college I did a term paper on 20th century propaganda music, so I loved hearing aspects of Cold War propaganda that were unfamiliar to me. (Incidentally, one of my favorite discoveries while writing that paper was Charlie and His Orchestra, a big band sponsored by the Nazi government. They took popular swing songs of the day and changed the lyrics to lampoon Allied leaders.)

Anyway, some of the great picks from yesterday's program include Atomic Power by The Louvin Brothers, No No Joe by Hank Williams, Tic Tic Tic by Doris Day, and Thirteen Men by Ann Margaret.

Expectations

I really do want to blog more, but I put so many expectations on myself for each post that am paralyzed by perfectionism.

I want to write a thoughtful rant (oxymoron?) about how the road can be shared among pedestrians, bikers, and drivers. So far, though, I haven't had the time and/or inclination to spend 20 minutes composing this amazing manifesto.

I kinda want to write about more baby questions, like should I register for everything I want and hit consignment sales to fill in the gaps, or should I start shopping consignment sales now? However, I don't want this blog to turn into all-baby, all-the-time.

I might write about ghia stuff. Right now I'm booking holiday parties at friends' houses, and that's exciting. I also had a product photo shoot with a friend today. Oh, and I'm looking around for a new fair trade clothing supplier, because my clothing supplier is unreliable. Unfortunately, their clothes are super-cool, and I haven't been able to find the same level of fabulousness in another company.

So I guess I can write about a little of everything and combine it into one decent blog post. That works.

I also have a way for people to get discounts on Preds tickets. Guess I'll save that for another post, though. Heh.

Buying Baby Stuff

Wow, there are so many options for baby items! Paul and I started our registry this week, and some of the options are overwhelming!

I tend to be a minimalist in my decorating, so I am having a hard time coping with the idea of my house being cluttered with high chairs, swings, etc. Especially those ugly plastic things with no design principles. However, I am learning towards a big plastic high chair because they fold up, and the chic Eddie Bauer wooden high chair does not (and doesn't match my kitchen).

I think I am having some yuppy issues here, but there you have it.

We're also trying to decide what to do about the car seat and stroller. We like the idea of the car seat/stroller/carrier combo, but those things are huge! I think I would have a hard time folding the stroller and stuffing it in our hatch. We may go with a car seat/carrier that fits into a metal frame to become a carriage, and then get a lighter stroller for when the baby is older.

I've gotten some great advice from friends on Twitter and in real life, but I welcome any of your tips, if you would like to share them. Bottles, blankets, cribs, etc. -- feel free to share your thoughts. Oh, and bassinets. Not sure what to do with that, either.

New President

This is a rather silly video, and it's quite old. However, it makes me smile.

Congratulations on winning the election, President-Elect Obama!

A Cat's Tale

Cats are strange animals. I think this particular one has been so coddled and spoiled by me that she developed a few extra eccentricities.

This morning I go downstairs to feed the dog. I don't bother to latch the door to the stairwell all the way, even though I know I'm risking the cat sneaking downstairs, where she is not allowed. However, Loa is watching birds in the window, so I figure she won't even notice that the door is slightly ajar.

As I am feeding Cameron, I hear the tell-tale squeak that means Loa has discovered the door and is nudging it open so she can come downstairs.

[Side note here to say that Paul is clearly the pack/pride leader in our family. While Loa might sneak downstairs when he is there, she will hide and skulk and try to avoid detection. With me, she marches around the room proudly, demanding to be petted.]

So Loa walks into the room and starts investigating the dog food, despite my yells and scoldings for her to get back upstairs. Once my hands are free, I grab her and quickly carry her up the stairs. Much to my chagrin, she seems to view the trip as snuggle time and not punishment.

On the way up the stairs, she is purring contentedly; however, halfway up the staircase she begins to struggle and panic. Worried that perhaps I have hurt her inadvertedly, I set her down at the top of the stairs and watch her for a few minutes. She's whiny, but that's her normal state, so I assume she's okay.

A few minutes later, while I'm sitting in the living room, I hear Loa crying mournfully at the (now-closed) stairwell door. Her mewing is much quieter than the usual demanding tone, and she is pacing worriedly in front of the door, as if she has lost something very important.

Curious, I open the door and walk down the staircase, scanning each step as I go. Halfway down, I find ...... dog food. A small, moist morsel of dog food.

Apparently Loa had smuggled the food up the stairs in her mouth while I carried her. When she dropped the piece of food, she proceeded to struggle and make such a fuss that I assumed I had hurt her. So then her only natural course of action was to mourn and cry over the food until "Mom" got it for her.

Yeah, she's a spoiled kitty.


P.S. - I didn't give her the food.