Hello from Antarctica Connecticut!

So, several years ago J’s roommate Grant, J and I were having this funny (funny, as in, we totally didn’t mean any harm to anyone or anything, we are nice people) conversation about how meteorologists were sometimes, just by the very nature of what they do, wrong in their weather predictions, and how what if there was like a medieval-type mandate in place that dictated that, should they be incorrect - even once - they be, um, relieved of their duties. Like, as in, the king or president or what have you screaming, “Off with his head!”

I realize that you have to be careful in this day and age and I want to state here, for the record, that I do not want to kill or otherwise hurt any weather people. Not in the slightest.

I’m revisiting this conversation, in fact, because what we were really getting at is just how mad people get at meteorologists when they’re wrong. So much madder than you get at anyone else who is making an educated guess about anything. People are all, “What the HELL, man, the rain started at 2 instead of 4? Ruin my life, why don’t you?”

And I always think about that when the weather turns out differently than they predicted. I think I’m actually easier on meteorologists since I’ve been giving their job some real thought. It’s not their fault that they’re off every once in a while. Plus, the information they give out is immensely helpful. They’re good people and I barely ever have negative comments about them because I get the challenges of their job.

But today…today on the 223,473,765th day of snow this year, I couldn’t take it. I was standing there in the lobby of the vet’s office with Cecilia looking outside at the snow pouring down from the sky, snow that wasn’t supposed to start until tonight, and oh yeah, snow landing on top of the snow that fell yesterday, that we weren’t even supposed to get, and I looked at the vet tech behind the counter and I said, “Can you even believe this?”

She was like, “Nope. I didn’t even think it was supposed to start this early.”

And I was like, “It wasn’t even supposed to start this early. Oh my God it was not even supposed to start until later, and how about yesterday with that surprise snow? Those guys predicted wrong, they predicted so wrong I just can’t TAKE IT ANYMORE!”

Morning trips to the gym. When I joined, and started going to, my gym, I was like, “Huh, isn’t this nice? A gym for old people and mommies.” I never put two and two together and realized that the only reason I never saw any young people at my gym was because I never went past, like, 10:30 a.m. But the other night, after having been inside with Nora, who had a cold, all day, I decided to make a rare evening appearance there once J got home and could take over childcare duties. Ah. Ok. THERE WERE the young people. Everywhere. Sweating, looking sleek and chatting with their friends. Reminding me of the once-upon-a-gym memberships of my twenties, when I was, I suppose, just like them. And I pulled off my sweatshirt, revealed my large belly and thought about how I missed the seniors doing gentle circuits on the machines and the frazzled moms dropping their kids off at the gym daycare. I might try and revisit the swinging youth scene post-bambino, but for now, I’m sticking with my non-intimidating morning crowd.

Tana French. She’s the author of incredibly well-written mysteries set in Ireland. I read “In The Woods” last year and just finished “The Likeness,” which was so good that I spent this one recent Saturday on the couch with it all day, thinking about how it was the best book in the world and I couldn’t be happier, and how once I was finished, life would never be as sweet again.

The WTF podcast. People who know me would probably never figure I’d be interested in the private lives of comedians. Because…I’m not. Or wasn’t. Until I started listening to this podcast hosted by Marc Maron, which J got me into. It’s so funny and surprisingly interesting to hear all about how those interviewed developed successful comedic careers. Plus, now I know weird stuff I hadn’t thought about before, like how so many people in the comedy world hate Carlos Mencia. You know, learning new things. I’m all about it.

Vinnie got me this cookbook, “Everyday Food: Great Food Fast,” for Christmas and I absolutely love it. It’s separated into seasons and full of great ideas that are - for real - easy, made from quality ingredients and are giving our normal repertoire of dinners a badly-needed update.

My new car and it’s CD player and auxiliary jack. This past week I listened to albums and bands I’d almost completely forgotten about due to my time in the Hyundai, including LCD Soundsystem, The National, Akron/Family and The Hold Steady. See? I’m still cool.

It turns out that with this pregnancy, as opposed to my first time around, I’m a little less “Let’s watch a movie, talk baby furniture and eat tons of ice cream!” and a little more, “Hey, I already can’t wait to meet this child and, oh, by the way, where is he going to sleep?”

I mean, I’m due in April. April. And it’s not that I’m not feeling good. I feel great. Well, minus the occasional heartburn, which I didn’t have with Nora. I’m not a fat of this heartburn. It somehow makes me feel bigger than I actually am, which is already plenty big. Like my stomach’s the size of a quarter and I didn’t even really do anything to deserve it. Or, I don’t know, maybe I did. Eating is somehow both a reward and potential danger of this condition.

Anyway, I’m not feeling sick of pregnancy exactly, I’m just feeling a little impatient. There are cold months ahead here in New Haven and our big event is still a while away. I’m excited to move on to the action. To have two children. And yeah, totally, I know I’m going to regret saying that.

I was just downstairs making myself some decaf in my new French press (thanks, J!) in order to help me get through this particular afternoon of quiet writing at home, and I was thinking, “You know, I really wish I knew how to do this better.” And that got me thinking, “Well, why don’t you learn?”

Which brings me to the below, to chip away at the long winter, because it was so much fun last time and because I have a few leftovers from the summer that I wouldn’t mind tackling. I’m not being quite as ambitious this time and you’ll notice that this list centers more around relaxing…and I’m totally ok with that. Maybe you should make a list of your own and come along with me for the ride…

2011 Winter Goals

make the perfect pot of French press coffee
go away for a child-free weekend with my husband
finish “For Whom the Bell Tolls” FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST
go to Stew Leonard’s
get a prenatal massage
paint the dining room and kitchen (or, more realistically, make someone else do it)
begin a knitting project
celebrate President’s Day 2011 with good friends
organize the basement for real
purchase and listen to Kanye West’s latest album (seriously)
make a photo album of our 2009 Italy trip
take Nora back to Stepping Stones Museum for Children in Norwalk
go to the movies…twice
exercise three times a week (barring any unforeseen doctor’s orders that I don’t)
read The New York Times in bed

Thank you, autocorrect. We think “albino” was supposed to be “album.”

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From: Fred Rotondaro
Date: January 2, 2011 12:51:55 PM EST
To: Vinnie Rotondaro

Vin
Something wrong withhold my e mail.
Luved the albino. He has a great voice. Deep and hauntIng reminds mmle of Paul robson.
Why have I never heard of him.

Your mom smiled and hurst her ankle. In bed recovering.

Tella happy birthday. Have dimmer on us.

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