I have always suspected that my brain is filled with useless pop culture.  I wish I could flush it out and make more space.  The other day Keegan was explaining to me that a fig newton is also a cookie.  Inside my head I heard an upper crust British accent say, "It's not a cookie, it's a fruit newton!"

In other news, you know you are pregnant if you cry while browsing the UNICEF card catalog.   Oh and you have an uncontrollable craving for Fr*tos to go with your homemade chili for lunch.  At which point you discover that in the cafe and four vending machines throughout the building there aren't any Fr*tos.  No corn or tortilla chips of any kind.  Except baked Dor*tos.  Ugh.  At least I got some exercise out of it.