Second Row Center

That right there? Is Eddie Izzard, live and close enough to me that I could have heard the performance without the microphone.  You can see the one head, there, in the lower left corner; that head belongs to the gentleman who sat in front of me.  The only gentleman in front of me, because we were in the second row, center.  So, so cool.  Even if the chairs, on the floor level at the TD Garden in Boston, are apparently only a step above medieval torture devices and by an hour into the show Willem and I were both squirming and shifting to try and prevent our spines from simply decalcifying.  Details, details…

The tickets were, technically, a Christmas gift from me to Willem. I refuse to consider it a bad thing, knowing that I benefited at least as much as he did from his present. My friend Jenny came up to watch our kids – and she brought one of her own, so it became a mini-party here, as well – and thus we were able to go out for a leisurely, child-free dinner (with adult conversation! about important things!  uninterrupted!), catch the show, come back home, and not immediately fork over a tremendous amount of money for a babysitter.

There are any number of things I could say about the evening, but they’re all sort of jumbled and stuck in my brain at the moment, because I was an idiot and had three iced teas with dinner, on top of the Mountain Dew I’d consumed earlier in the afternoon. I hadn’t had more than one soda in a day for months, and so that caffeine hit me like a freight train once we got home. I ended up pulling an all-nighter, first time in recent memory, and not by choice. So it was a very long night, because of course I was too tired to read or knit but too keyed up to sleep.

Then, first thing this morning, I had the glucose tolerance test because somehow I’ve advanced to the end stages of the pregnancy already – *poof*, just like that. Every-other-week appointments now, a tour of the hospital next week… it’s all a bit overwhelming. And more so, because the glucose test requires showing up and drinking this horrid, thick, concentrated cola drink (which, at least, this office serves very chilled, which makes it tremendously easier to choke down), then waiting an hour for a blood draw, then jittering away on a sudden, intense sugar high. Whee!

So, I’m a bit muddled. But all in the name of a fantastic night out and positive steps forward for the pregnancy, so it’s hard to complain…