Yeah, so I haven't kept that new web page updated yet. I've been busy. This week and last week there is/was testing for placement at work, and since they haven't given me any groups to teach during the week (only one on Saturday), I have been raking in the extra hours to try to help feed us. Too bad it will all be over in a week, and then I have to go back to being left out at home. The cats will like it though. They get all cute and fuzzy and purry when you spend the afternoon laying around with them.

Being pregnant gives me distinct memories of that horrible Alien movie that I saw when I was too young to see it (not to self, do not let Juliãn watch horror movies before he is 10). I can sit here and watch this lump move around under my skin. It's quite facinating, and not at all distressing, but then I remember those scenes of Sigorne Weaver and the strange moving thing in her stomach, before it shoots out of her and attacks someone. I wonder why the writers of that movie decided to put that kind of parody into it. I'm sure, somewhere out there, there were some really offended pregnant women. Maybe the writer was a guy who really wasn't happy about being father. Maybe he was creeped out by being punched or kicked by his child to be through it's mother's belly while he was trying to do something kinky. Maybe he was likening the moving thing in the belly as the thing that destroyes or takes away your life, in a symbolic sense, so took it literally here instead. All in all, it is an unfortunate comparison, after having experienced it my self. I recommend having an alien in your belly. I've heard that's what some babies look like when they come out too, like small cone heads. So the comparison goes on.

I have been in and out (mostly in) my place of work for more than 12 hours now. It's starting to get to me, especially since someone's cell phone keeps ringing in here, the same one about every 3 minutes, as if the person calling doesn't really believe that that teacher is really teaching, but that she is actually standing here, staring at the phone, refusing to answer it. I had thought to look for it and answer it myself just to tell them that who ever they are calling really isn't here, so there is not point in wasting their money and energy on calling them back repeatedly. But if I did that, I wouldn't have anything to write about, now would I? There it goes again...

Nothing else terribley exciting is really happening here these days. Maybe that will change later in the semester. I was really wanting to go eat some cake at the snack bar, but it closed early. No cake for me. (The phone is ringing again) I have replaced my caffeen addiction with one for chocolate (another great source of caffeen), so lack of cake is sort of a crisis. I'm going to go home and have some chocolate milk.