It started raining last night, which of course is allegedly supposed to bring on labor. It doesn't, in case you were wondering.

We went to the zoo yesterday, and this elderly woman came up to me by the owls. She said "I'm sorry to ask you such a personal question, but when is your baby due?" I almost sent the poor girl into cardiac arrest by telling her two days ago. She grabbed my arm and said "Oh dear, you need to get home. You're giving me goose bumps!" It was very funny.

Unfortunately the walking didn't do a bit of good. As you can see I'm still here, typing away, wondering when this baby is going to decide to come. He just can't be comfortable in there anymore – it's really getting crowded.

Today we are supposed to have lunch with two of Joe's college friends – Travis Cooley, who was our best man, and some guy known only as B-Lock. Why is it men feel the need to give one another dorky nicknames or refer to them by last name alone? In one case they called a guy H. Just H.

I didn't sleep so well last night so I will probably nap while Joe goes to the office this morning. He has one thing he has to get out by tomorrow – why does it always seem like there is one thing he HAS to do before the baby can come? I'm glad this is a holiday week and people will stop trying to give him work. He has enough hours billed that he can basically take off the rest of the year and still be fine, but I know that's impossible.

So Anne and Barb Dawson were wrong about the date. I don't think anyone picked today, and of course my mom has dibs on tomorrow because she had a dream. We'll see if any of them are right.