Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore?

No.

This past weekend (starting on Friday, really) I had the distinct privilege of heading to O'Hare at 4am. (Nat? "As you do.") It was the beginning of my Let's See All the Sisters College Tour '09. And in the nick of time, too- they graduate in a couple of weeks!

The flight was lovely, as I had drifted off to sleep right after takeoff...only to be nudged awake by an apologetic flight attendant. Would I care for a drink? (They didn't even have cranberry juice. Just a cran-apple blend with 8% juice. They should really call it "juice.") I was then informed of my in-flight movie selections: Bride Wars and Paul Blart: Mall Cop. Really, American Airlines? And to top it all off, the video wasn't jiving. Come ON. So, I held my "juice" and waited for someone to come get my trash (I kinda feel like Little Lord Fauntleroy- "collect my refuse!") Because, you know, you can't just fall back asleep after the beverage service. Nope. You've got to keep your tray down and hold your 'guilt cup' until it's taken from you. If you put your tray up and nod off, you'll spill a few drops of "juice" on your lap- or worse yet, your neighbor's...and she's already hogging two seats with her NY Times and she's not even pregnant. And forget about leaving your trash on your neighbor's tray so you can fall asleep- that is illegal.

So, once that harrowing leg of the trip was done I ended up at Harvard with Chelly, Kate, Quinn and Cole (my favorite Harvard student, big sister and little dude nephews) for a quick lunch before Rachel's luncheon award ceremony (yes, I pre-ate). Rachel won something cool, like the best actor to act, ever. Or something. (I think at this point, Harvard's just throwing accolades and money at her to thank her for enrolling.) Later I got to see her improv troupe and a couple of fabulous senior recital rehearsals...and then it was time for a ten minute power nap. She may or may not have been talking to me at the time. Then three plates of food at her superior dining hall (hush up, Chel, Quincy House has the best food- complain about it next year over your ramen. Besides, my college's dining hall was 90% vegan.) And then it was time for her mini senior showcase at the Signet, her lovely and exclusive club that has included the likes of Tennyson and Lithgow (John). Her voice was superb, the packed crowd ate it up and I got to party (soberly, seated) with Jen and Kate. Later, I passed out in the front seat of Kate's stylish and roomy new Routan. 

Up early with my nephews (although, admittedly, they let us sleep in), and off to see my sister's new house in Reading, 15 minutes outside of the city (awesome, porches, yards, fabulousness) and drove to Pittsfield to high-five my folks before Kate and I jaunted up to Williams College to see Emma for the five hours allotted to each town. 

It was a gorgeous day, and after a terrific meal of fake sushi (only 'fake' because I wasn't allowed to get a spicy tuna roll) and rad pad thai (a great name for a band) and eight other things, we stopped off to get a sandwich to bring to Em's boyfriend Dan. Eating Across Massachusetts '09. Walked for what seemed like five miles (Kate and Em assured me that this was not so) past tennis courts where wound-up dudes argued with refs about something or other in some important tennis match (I'm a sports fan), past where Kate used to play soccer, down to the baseball field to say hi to Dan for FIVE MINUTES...and then we walked back. It was a gorgeous walk, however, as Williamstown is one of the prettiest places in the spring, ever.

Home Saturday night with my folks, two of my sisters, bro-in-law and the little dudes (another great band name). My mom made about thirty of my favorite comfort foods, most of them Armenian, and I ate myself into a stupor. Sometime in the [early] evening, I was tucked in somewhere warm and allowed to drift off, content with the knowledge that I wouldn't be taking a boat, train, Routan, plane or cab for at least fifteen hours.

And then it was Mother's Day! I made my mom a decently sweet set of notecards with a dragonfly print and a fancy letter 'D' (for her name- I'm not COMPLETELY random) and my bro-in-law gave me a gorgeous pink Gerbera daisy for my very first Mother's Day. Does it count? I think it should count for at least a half. Walked with my mom and Kate (what is it with you people and walks?!) and watched a Nancy Drew mystery from 1939 with my mom- now that's cinema. Before too long, however, it was time to go back to the airport for an uneventful flight back to Chi. My awesomely faboo husband had cleaned the house, gotten me a sweet card that made me cry (it was the hormones) and had lobster tails chilling for the following night (when we could have din prior to 10pm.) I could possibly dig on this mother thing.

In other news, I am ballooning ("No you're not"/"Thanks, Mom.") and we may or may not have just bought a house! (We did.) Okay, well, they accepted our offer- but, as we all have learned, that means NOTHIN'. Inspection this Sunday, so more deets then. But it's superbly promising, as it has bedrooms, a roof, a floor and [hopefully] plumbing. 

Livin' the dream.

We're still having a taco. Just try to stop us.

13 weeks! I'm officially in my second trimester! We celebrated last night by eating a ton of tacos. This is only slightly different from the other three times we "celebrated" with tacos this week. Not to mention my Saturday afternoon "celebratory" tostada fix at the 'Famous Taco and Burrito King.' 

I've come a to very important conclusion thus far in the pregnancy; even though this is the coolest thing I've ever done, even though it's absolutely awesome to know I'm creating a child, and even though we're both thrilled beyond belief about meeting this kid...I don't much LIKE being pregnant. 

I know, I know. I'm almost afraid to admit this because of the reactions it will inevitably receive. I know it's a gift, a choice, a marvelous chance and it will CHANGE MY LIFE (and again, I've wanted to have kids since I was...oh, twelve), but actually being pregnant is one of those things it was impossible to visualize. So, apparently, I didn't. Maybe this will change immediately once I feel a flutter or get that next cool ultrasound (they are cool), but for now, I'm a little ready to put the nausea, ligament pains, hip and headaches, 'round the clock peeing and heartburn in the timeout chair. And, as everyone keeps telling me, JUST WAIT! Gosh. And the responses I get are invariably of two camps; the Let Me Tell You About My Horrid Experience folks and the Circle Of Life singers. 

Not that I'd wish this away for a million bucks, mind you, just a casual [and sleepy] observation. (Something I WOULD give up for a million dollars- or, let's face it, for free- would be the power of supersonic smelling. Especially on a Western bus that reeks of pee. Double especially if it's a breaky-down bus that can't rev above 5mph.) I'm quite eager to meet Baby Schoeny. Between the two parents, we're quite convinced that the kiddo will possess big eyes, crazy hair and a mile-wide grin. (We're already saving up for orthodontics.) And, given the career paths of the baby's folks, the child will most likely not be shy. Or conservative. (Although, who knows? How do you rebel against two left-wing actors? Become Alex P. Keaton?)

I love Michael J. Fox.

I HAVE managed to get a bit of work done with the infrequent but blessed bursts of energy of late; I've finished and formatted five scenes (in a week!) for the murder mystery, waaay trumping my previous goal of one scene. Per month. (I have been tiiiiiiired.) Formatting is easy enough- I've just been trying to get it into one type of document (usually FinalDraft) from whatever I've been jotting notes on: backs of receipts, triangles of construction paper, fake shorthand on my Blackberry (actual note for a scene: 'Rs sprsd trpz klr.*') I need to learn real shorthand. Or just stop being so darned lazy.

You know what this stormy, mucky, swine-flu-panicky day calls for? Besides a nap and a mask? A taco. The perfect pregnancy food (protein, dairy, carbs, SALT and veggies) and, dare I say, the perfect comfort food. Um, the perfect Mexican comfort food. 

Oh no...

*The shorthand stands for 'Rosie is surprised on the trapeze by the killer.' It's kinda going to be the best play ever.

Big ol' project, hmm?

Well, as some people may know by now on Facebook (I can't believe I just typed that)...my "big project" was the pregnancy that I was trying not to blurt out! (And the hidden nausea, weight gain, etc, etc, [and sadly] etc...)

But yes! P.J. and I are expecting a kiddo in early November! Doesn't that make it sound like we're waiting by the front door, anxiously peering out the foyer curtains? Well, if you disregard the late night rehearsals, endless work weeks and traveltraveltravel, we essentially are.

The initial shock/surprise/blinkblinkblink moment when we discovered the newest Schoeny who was coming to call should have been filmed (not least of all the Mario Kart Wii coping mechanism- P.J.'s exact words whilst his eyes were glued to the game, "I hope you don't take this as anything but excitement for you and the baby and myself, but I maybe need a MINUTE longer to process..." And then he handed me a controller. And I played, too.) And later I fell asleep in a mixture of crazy happiness and sheer exhaustion/nerves/bitsy bit o' terror. It was kind of like the night we got engaged. With nausea.

And it has been slightly (extremely) hard to write plays, blog, clean the house or even play "not-lying- down games" with the kiddos for whom I nanny during these past few months when the "common symptoms" start setting in. Turns out, after the first little bit of excitement sets in, so does an incredible urge to let your head snap to one side while your eyes roll back in your head and your brain takes you from zero to coma in three seconds. Plus, I've been subsiding on Italian ice and tortilla chips. (Honestly- who craves ITALIAN ICE? I hadn't given it a thought since 1989.) 

The advice and bizarre comments have also come pouring in. Two favorites?

"Boy, you guys don't waste any time, do you?" 

This is wrong on so many levels. How do they know we haven't been trying since we met? (We haven't.) Are they actively picturing me in a nightie with a stopwatch? (Please don't.) 

Also- "Enjoy it [reading/sleeping/time with the husband/travel/dinner/theatre/walking around] while you can..." 

Basically, anytime I'm seen doing anything remotely fun or exciting, at least one person per scenario has been known to drop that gem. I have two responses:

a) The major and all-encompassing way I've been enjoying "it" for the past 12 weeks has been to clutch my couch cushions at night hoping to ignore the waves of seasickness and whine to [the tech-rehearsal-bound] P.J. for some Italian ice, only to fall asleep during the second hour of TNT programming. 

b) Have you ever, EVER in your life enjoyed anything that people told you was almost over? It's like the Sunday evening rule. No matter how much fun you're having playing Tetris, as soon as someone tells you to "enjoy it now, Monday morning is coming awfully soon," you lose all hope for having a carefree evening and instead start thinking of your 3rd grade worksheet that you've yet to complete. (Even IF you're gonna be watching a Disney Sunday movie- nope. Ruined.)

That said, I am enjoying the heck out of eating anything and everything my stomach will allow (my system and I have come to an uneasy truce) and reading each week about what the kiddo's doing. This week s/he is hiccupping and clenching and unclenching teenser fists!

Plus, we heard the heartbeat last night- 165! Pretty excitable kid.

Gosh. Who saw that coming?

I need a vacation from my vacation.

I think that should be up there with "I don't do Mondays," "Hang in there," and "I'm with stupid." (Also, as it was recently pointed out to me: phrases on a mug= witty, ironic humor. Phrases on a tee shirt? Not quite so classy.)

Anyhow, as I've recently come back from *Cali '09,* I thought I'd share some highlights. Highlights, mind you, and not full blown tales. I am EXHAUSTED, after all.

Los Angeles- Met Scott Bakula. (Life highlight, I daresay.) He was superbly kind, generous with his time and not at all fazed by crazies (me and the Peej). Check out my Facebook pic. It is glorious. Met Donald Bellisario (Me: Thank you for creating my favorite show! D.B.: Uhh...you're welcome.) Met Deborah Pratt. She HUGGED me after I won first place for the novella competition.

Oh, didn't I mention? I WON FIRST PLACE IN THE NOVELLA COMPETITION! And had my copy signed by my heroes.

Lowlight: Ended up on a Quantum Leap trivia panel and got SCHOOLED by a lady who knew Sam Beckett's (mind you, a fictitious character) social security number. I told P.J. that perhaps I wasn't a SuperFan. He said that maybe it was okay.

Had brunch with Sonal, a rockstar gal that P.J. went to school with and I performed with years ago...she's currently on Scrubs and is one of the sweetest people in L.A. We went to a fabulous outdoor brunchy place and I perhaps ate too much, maybe leading her to believe that I am one of the gluttoniest people in Chicago.

I cannot help this.

After L.A. we took Highway 1 up to Monterey for about six and a half hours; at night that road can get kinda crazy, so that's EXACTLY when we drove it! (Highlight: dozing with the sea breeze against my face. Lowlight: It was at midnight. Also, I was woken by P.J. laughing maniacally, our car hugging the cliff's edge and my husband exclaiming "This is NUTS!")

Ordered pizza at 1am and had it delivered to our hotel (we proceeded to eat breakfast from this amazing pizza for the next two days. It was that good.)

Another highlight: Monterey Bay Aquarium! With otters and rooms of glowy jellies and sting rays that I could touch (and I did!)

Lowlight: Whatever that horrific smell was that came from outside the parking garage. Seriously. Get on that, please.

More highlights: A fabulous dinner, courtesy of my folks...with lobsters! The Jabberwock Inn, the cutest inn EVER, whose proprietors allowed us to explore the grounds like crazies. The drive BACK down Highway 1 to Nepenthe in Big Sur- treetop dining overlooking some pretty angry surf. The wooden stairs Peej and I found, leading down to a wild area of beach right off of Highway.

Lowlight: Um, how am I still in this car? Are we done with the car? Almost? Okay.

San Francisco! Okay, so there was a bit more driving. About three hours. But then it was smooth sailing. Until P.J. lost his sunglasses. But by this point we had dropped off the car, shuttled to the airport, found our way to the BART (kinda like our Metra) to take us downtown...and had been riding the BART for about twenty minutes. Oh HAH! So...we went back. (Highlight: The BART employees were so kind and helpful. Seriously. It was almost embarassing how good to us they were. Lowlight: WE DID NOT FIND THE SUNGLASSES.)

Highlights: Dinner at the oldest Italian restaurant in America. Ferrying to Alcatraz and taking very serious poses in jail cells. Re-enacted scenes from So I Married An Axe Murderer ("...I love Vicki. She's the best!") Fresh crab rolls by the docks. Renting a bike and riding over the Golden Gate Bridge into Sausalito. Dim sum in Chinatown (bean paste sesame buns that I cannot pronounce and it doesn't MATTER!) and excellent Middle Eastern in Haight-Ashbury. (I swear we did more than just eat.)

Lowlights: When P.J. said we'd ditch the car for ease of travel, he meant we'd start WALKING everywhere. Also, tandem bikes are not quaint or charming, regardless of what any musical/Golden Era flick may try to tell you. I spent half the time in fear that I'd fall off the back and the other half nagging P.J. and wondering when he'd PUSH me off. Dirty hippies in Haight-Ashbury. If I really needed to get a fix I'd go back to Hampshire [Rim shot.]

All in all a glorious[ly exhausting] trip. I slept for a goodly bit of the next day upon our return, and P.J...began a two-week tech for his new show "The Long Count" at New Leaf Theatre. As you do. We DID get a day together since being back...Easter was superbly relaxed, with a double feature of Bull Durham and Tell No One- the former being an awesome Costner/Sarandon love fest and the latter being an intense French thriller than caused my nightlight to work overtime. It was also a day of multiple naps and various snacky foods and pastel candies being consumed in place of large "meals." (And no worries- we went to the Easter vigil the night before. What good Catholics.)

And now, it's time for my nap.

(Read- more fifty hour work weeks...and perhaps finishing up one of the three writing projects I have going. Sigh. I got to rest on my laurels for two weeks.)

Kind of the same thing.