In the past 10 years, I have moved five times, have changed jobs five times (not counting temp and substitute teaching positions), have had four cats, and 14 different haircolors. The only thing that has remained constant throughout the turmoil has been my e-mail address.

But no more!

I have dropped my maiden initial from my original address. But don't worry: I've created an alias so my LynnB reconciles to just Lynn at my domain dot com. So if you send me e-mail, for now I'll still get it. I'm thinking in a couple of months I'll drop the alias — after 10 years of staying the same, every spam artist across the globe knows how to get ahold of me. So, if you have me in your address book, please update me.

Because I've been married for more than a year, and it's time.

I'm in week 17 according to the midwife, week 18 according to my Target Date software. Baby weighs half a pound now! After working 11 hours today (though I did duck out for 30 minutes to attend church; I walked in right at the point in the sermon where the pastor started talking about “vulnerability”), I'm afraid it's maybe lost a quarter of an ounce from mommy's exertion. Oh, and boss-man still hasn't acknowledged the medical report or mileage report I sent to him 36 hours ago, which isn't affecting my stress level at all, no sir, not this girl.

Right.

And, on another note, I think that it's pretty funny that while my husband is on a ghosthunting/karaoke road trip, Peter Griffin and his Family Guy buddies not only turned the Drunken Clam into a karaoke bar, but brought the house down with “Don't Stop Believing” by Journey, whose CD I have in my car right now and for which I have received no end of shit from my passengers.

It's hard to be so cool.