Wee nephew Ronan, born to old friends G&V from college (seventeen years of friendship?), came into the world today. I was best man at their wedding, V was a groomsman when we got married, and G and I got tattooed together over eleven years ago. Plus too many other milestones to count.

Welcome to the world, little Ronan. Even if you aren't an avatar for one of the Powers like a certain Irish wizard that Diane Duane created, I'm pretty sure you'll be a cool kid. Even if your parents are already plotting on dressing you up in cosplay and embarrassing you profusely when you're a child. Just remember: I'm the auntie with blackmail photos. And links to everything your mom has ever written gay porn-wise.

your loving auntie and uncle in faraway New York

"A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have. Partly it has great practical value. You can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapours; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a miniraft down the slow heavy River Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (such a mind-bogglingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.

More importantly, a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: non-hitch hiker) discovers that a hitch hiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, face flannel, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitch hiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitch hiker might accidentally have "lost". What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is, is clearly a man to be reckoned with.

Hence a phrase that has passed into hitchhiking slang, as in "Hey, you sass that hoopy Ford Prefect? There's a frood who really knows where his towel is." (Sass: know, be aware of, meet, have sex with; hoopy: really together guy; frood: really amazingly together guy.)" -- Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Happy Towel Day, everyone. Be a hoopy frood today, and wave your towel in remembrance of an author who gave us so much. Thanks. For all the fish. As well as life, the universe and everything.

I've officially lost my mind. I can't remember where the cups and bowls are in my own house, and this morning I poured myself a cup of milk instead of iced tea. At least I put the cereal back in the cupboard and the milk back in the fridge.

Apparently prego-brain does exist, and at 16.5 weeks, I'm exhibiting symptoms. Trufax! But I'll take this over the puking. Two days and no puking, whoo! My current record is 5 days. We'll see if I can beat that. Also, strange but creepy facts? My stomach pulsates. I can actually see it move in time with my heartbeat. Either that, or Stormageddon's gonna lead the kickline in marching band. Or be a rugby player.

And now for something completely different.

Or not.

We went through boxes in the attic and I found the photo album Lynda made for me eight years ago (April 2004). I forgot how much I look like her. And that she would've been 51 last month. Christ. Four years ago this October that she died. Fuck. I guess we're still 'in the process of mourning' or whatever.

And Kristin expects me to meet Danielle in two weeks. Before the bridal shower so that I don't get hysterical at the shower. I dunno if I can handle this.

Hormones much?

Best movie EVER. Well, best comic book movie EVER. My dad and I already have a date to go see it when I'm home in three weeks. I was prepared to be amazed, and I was. Oh, Joss, you never disappoint. Okay, sometimes you do, but this time, you did not. The banter! The chemistry! The bromance! Black Widow kicking ass! There was much enjoyment, and the show actually sold out every showing last night in Bingo, which is pretty good, considering it was a Tuesday night.

Thank you, Joss. So, with all those profits you'll get from Avengers, you could probably buy something pretty shiny now...

No, I haven't seen Avengers yet, and I'm still unspoiled, but thanks to a few things I've seen on the Tumblr, I'm starting to worry I'll have adoption issues with the whole Loki thing. *rolls eyes* Because this is far more entertaining to stress over than any of the other wedding Stormageddon dissertation bullshit going on in my life.

Yes, therapist, I do have issues. Where would you like to start this time?

A: Don't get married.
B: Don't involve your mother.
C: Don't involve your pregnant and hormonal sister.
D: If you wanna do everything yourself, just do it, and then tell everyone later.
E: Move across the country from your mother and block her email/phone number. Then proceed to plan the wedding.

This should not be stressing me out. It's not even my wedding by proxy. How many months to go? And is it too early to claim 'delicate condition'?

And after all that, guess who's not teaching next year! Say hello to the recipient of a fellowship in fall and a fellowship in spring. Okay, so it requires me to be on campus once a week(ish) for meetings, and to do that whole "actually work on the dissertation" thing (dissertation who?), but still. No teaching! Whoo! Unfortunately, neither fellowship involves nine or a ring, which disappoints me. I suppose I'll live.

Not ded yet. In the throes of student conferences (one day more!). Hopefully will have good news to share from the doctor next week (or really crappy news). Planning the pending CA/Wales trips and my shopping list for Tim when he's in Japan. Possibly visiting in-laws this weekend. Still wondering about the cryptic weather. Is it spring? Is it summer? Is winter still coming? WE DON'T KNOW.

Life=not bad. Scarily not bad. Life, please continue to be not bad.

Dear family,

This is why a week is too long for me to visit you anymore. I think we're done here. Same time next year?

Dear me,

One more day. You can survive it without committing any felonies.

Dear school,

Sorry I kinda avoided you this week. I swear I'll do better next week. Oh, crap, all that Welsh homework...

I love my first world problems and my first world life.