Well we've been to the hospital and been sent home- but Michelle is definitely in labour and has been since 6:30 AM. Tomorrow- well, in five minutes, it's her birthday!  And likely my baby's birth day as well. Cheers!

Look what came in the mail yesterday:
First some art cards I bought from Spiderfreak818:

(Just the Royal Guard from that last image)

Then my friend the Rebel Penguin made a chibi version of, well, I guess their names are still kinda secret at least from the internets. Anyways, he put them on little tiny t-shirts for the baby and sent them to me! Sweet! Here's the image he made, from his deviant gallery:

No baby yet.
But I am on holidays for the next 22 days so now it can come whenever. I won't have to abandon my buds in the midst of moving shovel 10. Because that would have been awful. Just terrible.
Anyways.
Have you ever read Guy Gavriel Kay's The Summer Tree? It's the first part in a fantasy trilogy, popular enough to warrant a special 20th anniversary edition, but so far after a hundred pages I am not really that into it. Neither do I hate it. Earlier I read his newer book Ysabel and had the same reaction, though I have a friend who loved it enough to read it out loud to his wife.
One writer I absolutely love is Augusten Burroughs. Friend at work recommended him. You might not know his name but maybe you saw the movie based on his book Running With Scissors? I haven't but I plan to sometime soon. The book is all about his childoohd and it's crazy. Funny and shocking too. Then there's Magical Thinking which is more essays about his life after childhood. Good stuff. Look- he's got a blog! Uh, blob, actually.

Today is the due date, but still no baby. Therefore I am heading off to Hinton to work nights. No sense burning holiday time till the baby is actually born.

I'm reading Neil Gaiman's Fragile Things. Obviously it's fantastic. I love short stories. It's been a while since I read some, and even longer since I wrote one. But here's the first part of a story I wrote under Gaiminspiration. It's kind of a true story, I just fictionalized the particulars a bit.

It was his retirement tour. If he was honest with himself, it was his second retirement tour. The first time it was after he got married. No married man should be out hitch-hiking around, he told himself at the time. So just this one more trip. And a few years later when she told him she was pregnant, and after the euphoria settled down, he decided he should hit the road one more time before the baby came and he had to become responsible.
He grabbed his sleeping bag and hiking boots and quick! out the door. He left a note for his wife telling her how much he loved her and that he would be back in a few days. Most other wives would have been angry and she was no different but she would forgive him. She knew when she married him he was a wanderer. And so long as he wandered highways and not beds she could live with it, even if she worried.
He never worried, not really. Sometimes he got into peculiar situations, even times he might call Crazy Fucked Up Shit, but he always found his way home. And anyways he had a way with people. He could build a rapport without even trying. Most times he didn't try, actually, and his rides would open right up to him. He was a story sponge. He never told stories, he just absorbed them from the people who gave him rides. You're a good listener they would always say. Thanks for the ride he would say.
It took a couple of hours to get out of the city- it always did. He hated that part but it had to be done. Once out on the highway though it was better. Even when it took hours to get a ride it was better. He could think. This time he had a lot to think about. Being a dad. Talk about Crazy Fucked Up Shit. His thumb was out but he didn't really look at the passing cars. Someone would pull over eventually. Maybe sooner, maybe later.
This time it was sooner. He almost didn't notice, actually, all lost in thought. It was an 18 wheeler. Usually the big rigs didn't stop. Too dangerous. Against the rules. Insurance costs too much. You know. He had to approach casually, in case the driver had pulled over to check a map or something and hadn't meant to pick him up. But the driver waved him to hurry so he climbed in.
Middle-aged white guy, hair going grey. Thin. They greeted each other. Then from the sleeper he noticed two kids. Brothers, probably, though they were not both the same color. The younger one was metis, by the look of him. The driver asked where he was headed. Prince Rupert I think, he said. Maybe the Charlottes.
I can get you to Jasper at least.
Cool. Thanks.
Name's John. These are my sons. Matt. Luke.
He thinks to himself, Matthew Luke and John. Who's missing? Mark. But he says, pleased to meet you.
The boys are shy at first but their rambunctiousness wins out eventually. They are on an adventure with their dad, and strange hitch-hikers just add to the fun. They ask him all kinds of questions, and he answers them till their dad tells them to leave him alone. Luke, or maybe Matt, though, gets in one more before they comply. Do you have any kids?
Not yet. Wife's expecting, though.
John beams. No kidding? Congratulations man! Kids are the best thing ever happened to me.
Jasper is four hours away, and they spend the time telling jokes. The kids in the back love knock knock jokes. He tells them his favorite.
Knock knock.
Who's there? they both shout.
Bearp
Bearp who?
You just said bear poo!
They laugh, and then they discover the plenitude of permutations of this single joke, each more hilarious than the last. Cowp! Dogp! Giant Squidp! Gorillap! Tyrannosaurus Rexp!
John buys them all lunch in Edson. While the kids eat their burgers and giggle, John asks about the baby. When it's due. If he's excited. Scared yet?
Soon John starts talking about his own kids. He says being a trucker's hard on a marriage. So he takes the kids when he can. The wife doesn't ever come though. But at least he's still married.
Later, in Jasper, when John drops him off so he can turn south on the 95, he jumps out of the truck there on the side of the road. The kids are sleeping.
It was nice meeting you, man.
You too. Thanks for the ride.
Listen.
Yeah.
When your baby comes. You love that baby. Take care of him. Her. Whatever. They're the most precious gift god will ever give you.
I will. For sure.
Maybe you noticed Luke and Matt aren't full brothers.
No I never noticed.
Well, they aren't. Luke is my son. One time I came home early from a two week haul. There was a strange car in the driveway. Well, you know the story. But you know what? I believe in the bible and I forgave her. Matthew is my son and I love him. I'm a lucky man. I really am. And so are you.
John held out his hand and he shook it. John got back in his truck and drove away.
He stuck his thumb out.

Also, Megadeth's Rust In Peace album is a lost classic. Tornado of Souls! Holy Wars- The Punishment Due! Hangar 18! Dawn Patrol! Hard to believe it's been almost 20 years.
Yet I know some of you won't rush to download it from iTunes. If you want something a little more current try Hayloft by Mother Mother. And of course always Wendy McNeill. Why haven't you listened to me about her yet? Check out "Stop" and "White Horses".
Ah Megadeth.

No baby yet. Today would have been a good day for it to arrive since it was a bad day at work. Not the Worst Day Ever but the worst day so far this year at least. Our big digger has been down for a month and the bosses were getting antsy to get it working. It finally came up today. So we had to move it to where shovel 8 was. And then shovel 8 had to move to where shovel 6 was. And then shovel 6 had to move to where shovel 10 was. Which is easy to do when you are an engineer moving blips around on a map, but not so much fun when you are the guy who has to do all the grunt work with the cable and stuff. Plus a little short on the manpower today. There was even some Blood Boiling Over here and there, which is actually pretty rare at the ole coal mine, at least from my foreman. He was mad because we Stopped For Lunch. We were mad that he was denying us our Marxist right to Stop For Our Damn Lunch Already. So I was calling Michelle and asking if she was having the baby yet so I could go home. She kept saying no even when I was like, "Are you sure? Really? Because it seems like you might be contracting to me. What was that? Did your water just break?"
Anyways, we moved all the shovels and I came home and still have no baby. Maybe tomorrow.
On the plus side- from the time I got on the highway from Hinton all the way to here I didn't have to stop once. I might have fudged a yellow light a bit at Henday and Terwillegar just to keep the streak intact but I did it.
I finished The Baroque Cycle a few nights ago. I don't think I've ever used the term tour de force before in my life but it fits. At least I assume it fits since I don't really know what tour de force means. Kickass awesome is what I think it means.

I was busy at work today but I had a bit of time to take some pictures. But these ones are specifically for a little four year old guy named Benjamin. His mom is a friend from deviantArt and she was showing him some of these photos:




And even a little video:

So I'm all about the podcasts right now, since Michelle got me a iPod touch for Christmas. Mostly CBC stuff, like Spark and Q and As It Happens (technology, pop culture and current events respectively). And some NPR stuff from the States, I hear they're alright. Otis Frampton does a podcast with one of his friends about writing and drawing comics. I can't draw but I always like hearing more about the writing process.
How about you- know any good ones? Come to think about there are a ton of BSG podcasts from the cast and crew aren't there? Hmm. BSG starts up again on Friday- but I am still a few episodes uncaught up so no telling me cylons!

Though any day the baby chooses to come would be fine by me, if I can have a choice I choose not today. Today is my worst day, because for me it is still yesterday. You are in the future of me! Woke up yesterday at 2 PM, worked all night, drove all morning, now I am shaky from adrenaline and caffeine. Luckily it seems there is little chance of baby so far.
January 20th would be a pretty good day- auspicious as they say in the East. I suggested we name her Barack if she is born that day. Hell, even if it's a boy. But Michelle forcefully informed me that the Great Naming Negotiations are closed. What have we chosen to name our child? You'll just have to stay tuned. Unless you're one of the billion who we already told.

Pinkzilla!
They discovered a new species of iguana in the Galapagos, and it's pink! I can just see the Godzilla sequels now. Sweet. Okay, well, reading the article more closely I see it is not actually a new discovery, only that it has just been named a separate species. I think this still calls for a celebratory poem:

Pink iguana don'tcha wanna
go to Tokyo and meet Gojira
a kaiju jubilee a monster bash
I would go but I'm strapped for cash

Great minds think alike. Star Wars artists Grant Gould and Jamie Snell both had the same idea recently for a sketchcard:




And if that wasn't enough Fetts for ya then check out this archive footage at Starwars.com where Boba Fett's original costume is taken out for a test drive.