Phil, the Man Pillow

I have a new nemesis. His name is Phil. He's a man pillow. Most pregnant women know Phil. In fact, most pregnant women have been intimate with Phil. They snuggle up next to him for most of their pregnancy, ignoring the advances of their husbands or the overtures of their favorite puppy. Phil basically gets some every night.

Oh wait, you don't know who or what Phil is? Well, Phil is a body pillow that pregnant women are supposed to sleep with in order to support their body while they are laying on their sides. Oh wait, maybe you don't know that after the fourth month, most doctors recommend that pregnant women sleep on their sides, preferably their left side. Something about compressing a major vein or circulation or whatever. Gimme a break, I'm just a dog not a doctor (and not even a pregnant dog at that, thank you again Dina & Joe).

I hate Phil. And I'll tell you why. He takes too much room on my bed. It's like there are 4 of us now: me, Phil, Dina & Joe. Pretty soon, Joe is going to sleep on the floor (where the dog bed is). I'm really quite angry that Dina brought Phil into the bed, and even more angry at Joe for letting Phil stay. Um, hello? Who's the man of the house? So I've been sort of passive agressive about the situation. I'm showing my displeasure by sleeping perpendicular. Sort of like this (you can see Phil behind me):That's right. Everyone sleeps parallel: Joe, Dina & Phil. But not me. I cross their bodies, like a little 't.' Because if I'm going to be uncomfortable in my bed, then EVERYONE is going to be uncomfortable.

The Days of Yore, with Pearl Jam

Joe and Dina went to a Pearl Jam concert last Saturday night. No, really, I'm serious. Here's the proof:
It was like they relived their youth, or thought they would, for one brief evening. Joe even busted out his flannel shirt, which Dina was horrified to learn that he still had, as it is circa 1993 and by the way, it's flannel. And yes, even though Joe's packed on a lean 30 pounds since his day's at ol' P.U., he actually still fits into that shirt. They actually match with the acid wash baby blue jeans with the ripped knees that he has hidden somewhere in the house away from Dina (it reminds Joe of Bon Jovi, and it reminds Dina of why she would never have dated Joe in college). Anyhow, the two of them pack up. He, in his flannel shirt (which by the way, was covering the Superman t-shirt underneath, that little fashionisto) and she, 6 months pregnant and hoping she wouldn't have to pee during every song.

Pearl Jam was here for 3 nights, all sold out. And it was the first time, as Eddie put it, that they have played in "San Francisco Proper" (because face it folks, Shoreline ain't in San Francisco) for 8 years. Sonic Youth was opening for them, which forced Joe into surmising at the pre-show dinner with friends what the hell were some of Sonic Youth songs...his guess? Runaway Train. No, JoeTo, that's Soul Asylum (as the waiter corrected Joe). And Dina could have sworn that Sonic Youth was frontlined by a female singer (yes, Dina, you still have faint memories of the early 90's).

The concert was faboo. They played a big breadth of songs, including some all-time favorites like Alive, Even Flow and Yellow Ledbetter. The venue was all General Admit, and as much as Dina wanted to mosh on the floor, the group found some excellent seats in the back row. Joe said he felt like he was in college again, drinking MGD and wafts of pot making their way through the air. Dina rocked out, as much as a woman with an extra 15 pounds on her belly could, and managed to not get a contact high (which by the way, for you concerned citizens, we checked with Dr. Mike and he said that her lungs would filter everything out, so the baby is safe -- now, if the baby turns out a little dumb, walks into walls, or god forbid, doesn't get into Princeton, then we'll just blame it on Pearl Jam and those liberal San Francisco security guards who patted people down, but let their bongs in anyway).

But here's where we go back to reliving one's youth. First, there were people moshing. About 5 people. Second, yes, people doobied up and got drunk, but they couldn't hang. One guy in front of Dina and Joe managed to fall asleep for the entire second set and the encore, despite his phone vibrating in his hand (as his girlfriend, who went to the bathroom, was desperately trying to find him as she couldn't manage to find her way back to the seat and instead, proceeded to cry as she leaned against a wall in the walkway lost for most of the night). Third, Dina seriously wondered that if somehow, Eddie Vedder saw her in the crowd, whether he would start to cry to himself since he has pregnant ladies jamming at his concerts these days. And fourth, forget the pregos, there were people there with their kids. As in, I loved Pearl Jam when I was in college and now I have two kids, so let's make this a family event. And so it all makes you wonder, where has the time went?

Circa 1993, the heyday of Pearl Jam:

Joe in college, studying all night doing lab homework. Height: 5'9". Weight: 130 lbs. Glasses: ~1 lb. Interest in women: Minimal. Interest in seeing Oliver stuff an entire Big Mac into his mouth: Maximum. Nerd factor: 10. Life ambition: make a lot of dough.

Dina in college, in Scott Tenley's room in High Rise East ready to 1) party, 2) go clubbing, or 3) go to Chili's for some fajitas. Attire: flannel. On good days: tights. Height of hair: ~2 inches. Life's ambition: become do-gooder lawyer. Real life's ambition: get a good score on the LSAT.

Now let's bring it circa 2006, the heyday of Joe and Dina To:
Joe, working his butt off at some hedge fund. Height: same. Weight: a sound 30 pounds more (but really, isn't he more handsome this way?). Glasses: occasionally not used during swimming nights, hockey nights, or when he's trying to 'dress up.' Interest in Dina: high. Interest in moi, i.e., TicTac: higher. Interest in seeing Oliver stuff an entire Big Mac into his mouth: Maximum. Life ambition: make a lot of dough.

Dina, no longer do-gooder lawyer, enjoying selfish pursuits of yoga, swim, and pilates classes instead. Attire: pants with belly panels for her ever-expanding figure. On good days: has showered. Height of hair: actually lays flat against her hair (she's saving the environment by not using her hairspray). Life's ambition: to be a good mom and not sweat the working thing. Real life's ambition: hopes Joe makes a lot of dough.

The passage of time has taken its toll on Joe and Dina. But does it really matter? As Pearl Jam would say, either way...

"I, I'm still alive"
Hey I, but, I'm still alive
Hey I, boy, I'm still alive
Hey I, I, I, I'm still alive, yeah
Ooh yeah...yeah yeah yeah...oh...oh..."

Babyfied

They are trying to convert me. To babyism. They are trying to get me to like babies. Even that, babies not born yet. It is a kick (literally sometimes!) to lay next to Dina's growing belly. And they are introducing new mini-people to me. I like this one called Avery. She smelled pretty good and tasted even better. Plus, she doesn't know what her hands do yet or that they're capable of grabbing my ears or tail.