Okay so I took some belly pictures last night and I promise to post them tomorrow so you can laugh. No really, go ahead and laugh at my expense. It’s okay.

Wow I sound grumpy. I’m not, just officially feeling very preggo. You know the, up 6 times a night to pee -hard time getting off the couch-out of breath- kind of preggo. Worst part about this is that I haven’t even reached what I like to call, “serving the baby an eviction notice stage” which generally occurs for me around week 32. I have 9 plus more weeks to that stage. Yeah!

Anyhow I thought you all should know that last night I wasn’t really hungry. This is a big-ish thing for me considering I ate a  burrito the other day the size of a puppy and an hour later was all “what’s for dessert?” So, not being hungry is a new thing for me. Kevin made some breakfast for dinner concoction and I had a few bites of that and then decided to take a bath. Sometime between hefting my belly out of the bath and landing back on the couch, I became well, let’s say “focused” on having some ice cream. Warm and cozy from my bath and feeling smug for “not eating dinner because I wasn’t hungry” I decided that a little ice cream wouldn’t hurt anybody. I grabbed a pint of Haagen Daz Double Chocolate Chip and padded to the couch to watch Tori and Dean. I have talked about this show before and I will say it again, Tori isn’t who you think she is so stop judging her. She is my friend. Well, she would be if she met me. I am convinced of that and it doesn’t at all make me a stalker. Not really. Anyway, me and the ice cream sat down and managed to bring an extra spoon for Kevin. (He indicated that  me sharing the ice cream was the only way he would be able to tolerate watching that show, and I obliged.)

It took about 20 minutes. In case you were wondering. Just 20 little minutes to FINISH THE ENTIRE CONTAINER. Yes, I had help. But still, do you know how many calories are in a pint of that ice cream? I do. When I got up for the 6th time to pee last night, the caloric content of Haagen Daz was rolling around in my head like a marble in the Hungry Hippo game so I went to the garbage, pulled out the container and did some simple math at 3 in the morning.

1050 calories, divided by 2 = 525 calories.

So, on my “I’m being good I didn’t eat dinner” bandwagon, I managed to take in the calories of a Whopper with cheese. Yeah Jenn.

The worst part about all of this is that sometime in late November I am going to be crying about how fat I still am even though the baby came out and I am going to be all “I dont’ know how I got like this, I didn’t even eat dinner every night!” Sob, sob. And then a little  flicker of a memory, a chocolate chip…an empty container…Tori Spelling. It will all come back to me like a dairy deluge and I will know, exactly how I “got like this.”

So now I have two options, stop counting calories (wicked habit developed doing weight wacthers) or see if I can get Will Smith to come over with that little memory zapper from his movie that I can’t remember right now because my brain is filled with chocolate chips, and get rid of the ice cream memories so that can drown in post-partum self-pity  like every other pregnant woman I know. Why only these two choices? Because we both know I’ m not going to stop eating ice cream.

Dear Tori Spelling,

Just stop it. For years, I have hated you. I have made fun of you and your fake boobs that hung so unpleasantly off of your emaciated chest, as though trying desperately to leave your presence. I despised your character on 90210 and I didn’t care whether or not you slept with David. I just wanted you to go away so I could keep on pretending that Kelly and I were friends.

After the 90210 years you thankfully dropped off the radar for a bit. Then back you came with a vengeance in some ridiculous faux reality show and a big Beverly Hills style wedding. I was annoyed again. Whenever you were on a gossip mag I would be so upset because, other than being Aaron Spelling’s daughter…what did you do? You were like the pre-Paris Hilton. Like a Paris Hilton warm-up. (thankfully you wore underwear, because I seriously would’ve clawed my own eyes out if that would’ve shown up in a magazine)

Then, we all got to hear about your affair with a married man and your expeditious divorce to first husband. In my mind, I figured your were just being who I expected you to be. Mostly I wanted you and whatever husband you stuck with to use your frontal floatation devices and get lost at sea.

Then, a month ago, out of sheer boredom I stumbled across your new season of Tori and Dean. I thought that I would watch a few minutes, yell at the television and be done with it. Oh, but Tori you vixen, you knew that wouldn’t be the case.

Here you are, in my front room, pregnant and funny and vulnerable. WHAT? I am actually liking you? Hold on, maybe I need to re-think everything? Okay, can I blame global warming?

Seriously, as you talked away on the show I was thinking that you were saying things I would say. You were being paranoid that your hubby was cheating with a hot scuba instructor and I thought, well you should be because he cheated with you. Then you said, “we started with cheating and so I will always be fearful that he will cheat again.” Whoa. Okay, something happened and started to like you.

So, now four episodes in to Tori and Dean and I am hooked. I actually told someone the other day they should watch your show and they looked at me like I had definitely spent too much time at home with the kids.

Tori, here is the bottom line. I used to hate you and now I think we could be friends. If you are faking all of this, I’m gonna be pissed. Be real with me girl, if you want this thing to last we have to be honest with each other.

Sincerely,

Your new fan – Jenn