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Fear not, for I have returned. I know you missed me. Well, I know K missed me.

First order of business: Shrimp needs a new name. He/she no longer resembles a shrimp. By the end of his/her fourth month of existence in utero, which is in 3 weeks, Shrimp will measure five inches and really look like a little person. Hence the need for a new name. Any ideas? Everything is still peachy with the belly. I am mostly tired. But that is my only complaint. I love it!

I’ve been sitting here at my computer since I woke up this morning. As B puts it, my brain will soon liquefy. A grand happy total of almost five hours spent, just to catch up on the blogs I did not check the whole time I was away. That’s okay, I’m all caught up now. And I am loyal, so I had to read everything I missed. And look at all the pictures. And leave a few comments.

So what did I do for ten days, away from my cat and my man (or is it the other way around)? I enjoyed:

1. A train ride to Ottawa with very annoying people sitting right across the aisle from me. Take a deep breath. Now imagine a very whiny, overly affectionate 40 year old woman begging her husband to play cards with her and her bastard belching caveman of a husband refusing to play cards with her and pushing her away when she tried to kiss him, probably on their second honeymoon or - worse yet - on some sort of trip to reconcile after ten years of a marriage containing an even blend of routine and unhappiness. Man, was she whiny. That was next to me. Also, for dessert, there was a lady standing next to me who was waiting to get off in Drummondville – 10 minutes away – who, after asking what I was knitting (I had two projects on the mini-table in front of me) and telling me it was very pretty, proceeded to talk down to me like I was her fucking poodle, telling me in a chastising tone I should start and finish a knitting project, not work on more than one at a time because that was just bad habit and I would never get anything accomplished. So I resisted the urge to use the pointy sticks I was wielding (they were size 7.5 mm and plastic…but I’m pretty sure I could have done some serious damage) and concentrated on P’s urge with pointy fondue forks around a certain politician. Which probably made me smile and nod appreciatively, albeit with a slightly glazed look in my eyes. Because I was probably looking just a little to the left, right over her shoulder. She stopped talking to me and got off the train. I must have looked like a psycho. Thank you, P. You saved me from the evil yellow pudgy lady.

2. I also enjoyed my parents’ place, which features a pool, a spa, two tall little bros and their buddies most of the time, a Gamecube, flowers, and two cats. Here is what I did all week at my parents’ place while they were working. Sssuckers. I slept. I ate. I ate. I slept. In between eating and sleeping, I sometimes read. A very good book K lent me years ago entitled Eating Crow (thanks, K! I promise to return it one day!). When it rained, which was most of the time, because it was sunny for two days, it never really just rained…it fuckin’ poured, no cliché intended. So I watched Asterix & Obélix: Mission Cléopâtre. Twice. It’s too funny. I also watched Pirates of the Caribbean.

For the record, I think Bruckheimer’s idea of having Orlando Bloom and Johnny Depp (or is the other way around? I can’t make up my mind) in the same movie is genius – pure genius. Because they’re HOT. Also watched Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Johnny Depp is not really hot in that one, more like creepy, but he’s still hot because I know what he looks like for real. So I can focus on his acting in this movie. Enough girlie gushing over hot movie dudes. I apologize. When is Pirates 2 coming out?

When the sun came out (for two days) I squeezed into my bathing suit (two cup sizes too small, goddammit, not a pretty picture) and entered the coolness of the pool. I would wave one of my bros over while blowing kisses at him to get him to come closer, then ask him to refill my gigantor glass of juice by pointing at its emptiness. No words. Just diva behaviour. He complied and giggled. A manly fifteen year-old giggle, but a giggle nonetheless. That is because he rocks. So basically I read while standing belly-high in water walking around the shallow end of the pool and generally took deep breaths of satisfaction and contentment. Then I’d feel a (slight) tinge of remorse for enjoying myself so much. All this time, my poor man was slaving away twelve to thirteen-hour days making video games, in air-conditioned frigidity…while imagining me in my bathing suit all oiled up and roasting in the sun. I’ll bet the two cup sizes too small would not have bothered him at all.

3. I finally enjoyed two days and three nights in a very cute little cottage in Notre-Dame-des-Monts (Charlevoix) with mom, my sister, mom’s friend and dozens of frogs in the little lake in front of said cottage (said cottage kicking ass, by the way)…We played Rummy, we played cards, it rained the whole time except the afternoon we drove to visit the factory where they make the Migneron and went to Baie-Saint-Paul. The frogs were hilarious. They just sort of hung out on the surface with their hind legs splayed and humped. It was a frog orgy. Very funny, as I had never seen a frog orgy before. You could tell they were very happy frogs. Who wouldn’t be, right? Just floating around and humping all day, repopulating the lake? Fuck yeah. Bring it on. I’m just being honest.

The best part of the ten days, though? Coming home. Why? That’s my little secret. H knows. Sssuckers.