Let's be honest: when we think of pregnancy, we think of food. Weird cravings, weight gain, midnight food fests... obviously, expecting moms need extra sustenance to grow little human beings from scratch, but that doesn't explain the torrid love affair between pregnant women and food. But I know what does explain this phenomenon. I figured it out last night, in the midst of a Radiohead concert at the Hollywood Bowl.

I love that 70's song "Stuck In The Middle". What I don't love is living it - that in-between feeling, that rock-and-a-hard-place status quo that makes you feel like the short kid in a game of Monkey in the Middle.

I haven't been neglecting you on purpose, Bloggie. It's just that I have nothing to say to you. My mind has officially disintegrated into mush. It takes all my energy to write what I need to for work - and then all I want to do is sleep. So, my topic for today will be dreams, since the most excitement I've had in the past month occurs in my REM cycle.

Obviously, breastfeeding is on my mind, but I'm talking about a different type of weaning here. One of the drugs that fed my acting addiction was the infamous Casting Director Workshop, and while I had quit cold turkey, lately I've been craving a fix.

Apparently, the post office managed to deliver my letter to the baby! Our ultrasound got pushed up to yesterday, and Baby granted all of my wishes! Moving around like a little champ, waving and smiling... of course this could have been partly due to the Frappuccino I guzzled prior to the appointment, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. The only problem was, Baby took my joke about flashing private parts a little too seriously. Man, did we get a glimpse of the goods.