In the Land of Excesses, there is nothing more In Your Face than a Stretch Hummer in a city.
That’s like saying, “I’ll take the most ridiculously inefficient and obnoxious car…and kick it up a notch.”
Well, congratulations Hummer.
I do believe you’ve created the Perfect Monster.
Unless you’re a suburban mom about to assault a local grocery store with an army of 10 children and 10 nannies, take it somewhere else.
Seriously.
And in the beginning, there was a Mac.
Jay can’t turn down a challenge when it’s got to do with A Giant Pumpkin. Can you?
The aim of Giant Pumpkin, hereby known as G.P., was to trip up unwitting shoppers at the fruit aisle, and to have its weight publicly outed in a “Guess the Pumpkin Weight Contest”.
I was going to guess “VERY HEAVY” (well, actually 250 lbs), but Jay sagely advised that everyone would put down something as predictable as 250 lbs, so I went for 242 lbs.
He guessed 232 lbs.
G.P. tantalized would-be guessers by being solid and stubborn as a rock.
G.P. was impossible to lift.
G.P. was probably a boulder painted to look like a pumpkin. In an elaborate scam to collect personal information and emails for spamming purposes.
Dammit.
As Jay and I are world-class procrastinators, we started rummaging around the house for things we could use for costumes an hour before we had to go to a neighbor’s for a Halloween party.
I can’t really say if this is a costume or simply an alter-ego.
Jay isâ€â€of courseâ€â€paparazzo, although some people at the party thought he was a tourist and others were just enamored with the 20-year-old Polaroids and a Holga he had around his neck.
Can I just say that people take Halloween seriously here? We saw Elma Fudd, gangsters, Britney Spears, Superman, (a man as) Wonder Woman, pirates, the Pope, a bee…
…and of course a giant wedge of watermelon.
And then there is this couple we met, who only make sense as a couple. Their mad genius idea is A-Salt and Battery. (She’s the Morton Salt Girl, he’s a battery-batterer. Note the baseball bat and black eye.) GENIUS!
Lucha libre here (Mexican wrestler) had Hello Kitty bling around his neck that I could not ignore. I stalked him and asked to take a photo.
I think I scared him.
Beer.
Raw fish.
Beer.
Beer.
Did I mention beer?
Here I am, with good friend Rino, in the B.C. daysâ€â€Before Chunkâ€â€when I was still able to swig Belgian ales at Brouwers.
On a related note, Jay suggested the most awesome Halloween costume for Belly-ful Dot. White Trash Abusive Husband in Wife-Beater (Beer Belly Inclusive). All I need is a white singlet and an empty 40-ounce malt liquor bottle.
Some people still look at me like “Maybe she’s got a beer belly!” or “She’s a fat little small girl, isn’t she?”, even though I am already feeling like my tummy is going to explode.
Granted, I have three plus months and a whole lot of growing to go, so I guess there will come a time when it will be so obvious that I’m pregnant.
Meanwhile, I see people do a doubletake when they pass me on the street.
Tell me, isn’t it obvious I’m carrying another being?
Or does it just look like the typical post-dinner-food-coma Dot that you’ve come to know?
I ask this because I walked into a maternity store today and met a sales woman who was a little large around the tummy area, instantly raising my suspicions.
She asked how far along I was and if I knew it was a boy or a girl. She volunteered that she was pregnant and so, I politely asked if she was having a boy or a girl.
“Oh, I don’t know yet. I’m only 8 weeks pregnant.” (For the non-pregnant-speaking folks, 8 weeks is the very beginning of a pregnancy and you don’t “show” at all.)
Foot. In. Mouth.
Jay and his design firm had its first-ever Design Commission company retreat slash sleepfest slash Wii-fest slash eatdrinkfest slash Dexter-fest. Thanks to Lindy who opened her awesome cabin in the Olympic Peninsula for the occasion, we had a great time.
My iPhone didn’t work out there in the wilderness.
With absolutely no Internet connection, I slept. A lot. I ate. A lot. I made wantons. A lot of them. I hiked. Not a lot.
Check out more photos on the DC Flickr site (and if you’re a sucker for random party shots, find even more on my Flickr site).
The boys found some instrumentsâ€â€Peter played the guitar, Jay and Rob played the drums, and crazily enough Parker knew how to play the doublebass!â€â€and started jamming.
Some pumpkin carving action. I didn’t do one. Three-year-old Chloe art directed the one on the right.
Parker really loved my wantons.
Disclaimer: Posed Picture
The DC Crewâ€â€in what Tyra Banks would call a “fierce” pose.
I am getting chunkier.
And chunkier.
And waaaay chunkier.
Disclaimer: Chunk not photoshopped. It’s the whole chunk and nothing but the chunk, so help me Lard.
Dot is going to a remote mountainous area to sleep for two days. Where her only sustenance will be instant noodles and the iPhone.
Do not disturb.
MEMO
From the Desk of Chunky D. a.k.a. The Waistless Wonder
To The Being Inside:
Jay and I have had a few conversations of what a “mini-us” will look like. Most of the time, we just wonder what it’s like in there. Please take time off your busy schedule of sleeping and kicking to answer us.
1. What do you do all day?
2. When Chunky D is sneezing and having a badass cold, as she is now, can you hear the sneezes? For that matter, can you hear the swearing?
3. Do you sneeze?
4. Do you dream?
5. Are you reading my mind?
End of MEMO
c.c. Center for the Rehabilitation of Swearing Pregnant Women
There’s no person more  how shall I put it?  intimidating than a pre-coffee morning Jay.
This morning, with a hint of alarm in his voice, he remarked, “Oh-oh. I’m low on the coffee beans, Dot.”
“Oh yeah? What would you do if there were no coffee beans?”
“I would scrape up the grounds on the kitchen table and make coffee with it.”
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