Goddamnit, Teri Hemmert

Well, I literally got through 3 songs on XRT's Breakfast with the Beatles this morning before loudly telling Teri Hemmert to fuck off and changing the station.

Seriously. Here I am, driving back from O'Hare after dropping B-ri off at Air Canada, and up pops Breakfast with the Beatles. And I'm all like, "AWESOME! Nothing but Beatles...the womb-dweller will LOVE this".
Oh, how quickly I do forget.
We started off strong with Rubber Soul's "I'm Looking Through You". I'm smiling and singing and hoping the womb creature wakes up and starts moving around. I'm all pumped about what's gonna be up next...
It's some 9 minute Paul McCartney shit the bed solo suck fest.
I suffer through it thinking the next one will SURELY be a reliable Beatles classic. NOPE. Some weird ass I'm not even kidding elevator version of With a Little Help From My Friends.
I'm sorry, I thought I was listening to Breakfast with the Beatles. Not Breakfast with Paul McCartney's craptastic solo career and random inconsequential cover bands.

Fuck you, Teri Hemmert.
And fuck you, Breakfast with the Beatles.

2010- The Year I Become Somebody's Mother

Good morning 2010, I greet you clear headed and sober. How very novel.
And it is quite a beautiful morning indeed.

We had a low-key shin-dig here at the house, I haven't cleaned anything yet, and I'm eating leftover hummus.

And yes, in 6 months, I will be a mom. Holy shit.
What's hilarious is that most of the resolutions I would have made this year have already been done.

Quit smoking. Check.
Quit drinking. Check.
Eat better...welll...
Lose weight...HA.

So, I start 2010 not hungover, with a wonderful husband, a cat, a house, and a baby on the way.

Wow.