I’m currently dusting out the cobwebs in my head to make room for more words and some Halloween decorations, and all this random stuff keeps falling out. Here’s what it looks like:

–Can I get paid $1 million by Oman to not go hiking in Iran?

–I’m starting a new website. Actually, it’s been up and running for months now (thanks to The Husband), but due to a contract I signed to join a women’s blogging community (and get some ad dollas), I’ve received the push I needed to post solely over there from now on. So starting next week, I’ll be posting the link to that website (www.plansinpencil.com) instead of this one. You know how it is–sisters doin’ it for themselves and all (with the help of their tech-savvy husbands).

–What makes oatmeal cut by steel better than regular-cut oatmeal?

–“The Power of Love,” by Huey Lewis and the News, totally holds up over time as an awesome song. Especially when coupled with a workout and the image of Michael J. Fox climbing over a convertible to land on his skateboard.

–Last night’s Troy Davis execution debacle was profoundly sad on every level and shouldn’t have happened. I don’t say that because I think he’s innocent (the evidence would suggest otherwise), but because our system is broken. I disagree with the death penalty. This may sound strange coming from someone who supports the right to bear arms and thinks that the rich already pay their fair share (and a lot of other people’s). But while I do think plenty of people deserve the ultimate punishment for their crimes (I’m looking at you, Scott Peterson), I don’t think I or any other human beings have the authority to pronounce that a life should end (see also: abortion). That’s God’s job, and we’re all under-qualified for the position.

–OMG! Thursday night comedy is back! Who will be the new boss on The Office?

–I prayed for encouragement, and God decided to show off when he answered in the form of a couple of emails, then a call from a New York City area code. The conversation was a response to a deeper prayer than I had uttered–a validation that I am on a genuine path. I was set free by someone else’s words, words that reminded me that there is a Yet to this path and a joy in the process. I’m so grateful.

–I’m 25 weeks pregnant now, and depending on which website you read, that means The Kid is either the size of a rutabaga or a loaf of bread. Regardless, he is elbowing and kicking and loves coffee, weekly sips of red wine, walks along Chicago’s riverfront, the sound of the vacuum cleaner, and Sunday Night Football. And making me pee.

Whew. That feels better.