Everybody Loves a Monkey

It's strange not wearing a belt. It's also strange not having a belly ring anymore.

I think it's a boy. Babe thinks it's a girl. I think we're both trying reverse psychology on this one. :) He wants a boy... I'm sure of it, but he's afraid to say that because he's afraid he'll jinx himself. He hasn't come right out and said this, but I can feel it. So cute. I want a boy too, but I certainly wouldn't be disappointed with a girl. As long as we've got the health!

My tailbone hurts.

I got flowers today because it's administrative professionals day (secretary's day). Uh, I'm not an admin. But I'll take em (even though they look like they've been beaten to hell) because they came with chocolates!

I'd like to know how Portillo's gets their breaded chicken (that comes in a sandwhich) how they keep the bread on that sucker when cooking it. It's so good... but when I make chicken strips at home, I dip in egg, bread crumbs and back in egg... I don't think that's their recipe. How do they do that!?!?!?

Some people pick their noses. Some bite their nails. Some twirl their hair. Some doodle on paper, or whatever is in front of them (I do this in meetings). But me, I pick my nailpolish off. Religiously. It's just clear nailpolish, but I peel it off almost every day. Not every finger, just ones that are easy. I put a coat of clear on every morning so when it gets thick enough, I peel. I do it so often, that I don't use nail polish remover, Ever. Unless of course it's on my pretty pink toenails. I guess that's part of my neurotic behavior. Odd, no? I get a strange sense of satisfaction peeling.