Late Night Chronicals

I’m going through a stage. The stage, regrettably, is called television. My sister called last night and asked if I was watching the democratic debates on YouTube, and I said, “Hell no, we’re watching our cooking show.” Yes, Matt and I are addicted to Hell’s Kitchen.

I never once watched a reality show and I still really hate them. Matt, as smart as he is, can choke down some really bad TV sometimes, and even if I feel like hanging out, wrapped up in a blanket with him on the couch, I can’t do it. Jé deteste le téle.

But cooking is an interest of mine, and I got sucked in. I really don’t like any of the participants left: Rock, the jerk; Bonnie, the crybaby; and Jen, the hick. I’d like to vote all of them off.

Matt and I have a theory, though, that Bonnie and the chef (also jerk) are having an affair, so we’re anxious to see what will happen when she flubs the veggie prep again, then cries about it.

I’m coasting on 3 hours of sleep today. Matt was restless around 1 a.m., and I joined him. We looked up vacation destinations on the Internet. We’re going to California for Christmas (with a newborn!!), but we’re planning to take our own trip once the baby is at least 6-months-old (my family owes me big time for babysitting). So, at 1:30 a.m., Matt said, “Let’s go to Hawaii.” Yeah, baby!

The only part about this baby thing that is freaking me out is the lack of independence in my travel schedule. I have always been spontaneous, hopping on airplanes about every 4-6 months and going to amazing places. Friends with kids say that those days are over, but I say they don’t have to be. Matt and I are going to be the laid back parentals who take our kid everywhere, introduce it to everything possible. (Read: I say "kid," but Matt is already planning our second. I define "big gulp".)

I’m working on my book now, and after Matt went to bed I stayed up until 3:30 writing. I understand why writers do this, because the wee hours are when the brain won’t shut down. I made some real progress last night and it felt great. Truth is always greater than fiction, and I’ve gathered some pretty good characters over the last couple of years that I’m now developing further. I’m always thankful for a stir in the pot because it makes for good material.

It’s relaxing having a baby moving inside my stomach when I write, too—it feels like I have a co-author. : )