The full moon last night was beautiful and huge and golden-red when it rose over the mountains in that way it does here in the high desert, but it did not help me go into labor as predicted by a few people. I even went out and took a long walk after it got dark outside because that's one of the things my doctor has advised me to do in my ongoing quest to coax this baby out, but to no avail. It was a nice walk anyway and I'll probably go again tonight. But I think taking walks by myself after dark may be the only leaving of my house that I do for a couple of days, sheerly because I am starting to have a strong desire to avoid strangers after my adventures yesterday.

Yesterday, I decided to go out and take one more shot at trying to buy bedroom lamps to replace a set that blew up (literally) earlier this summer. I've gone looking several times, but have never found what I wanted at a price I was willing to pay. So, since I have accomplished pretty much every other task I can even think of to do around the house, including obsessive cleaning of both of our cars so they will be all nice when we have relatives in town after the baby comes, I thought I would take my extremely clean car and look for lamps. It has been a few days since I have been out and about for an extended period of time by myself just because I've mostly been doing errands with Dan or doing stuff at home lately. And apparently in the time that has elapsed since my last outing, I have crossed whatever threshold of absolute hugeness there is that takes away any inhibitions strangers have about talking to you about your pregnancy for insane lengths of time. I wish I had been carrying a video camera so that I could post footage of the lengthy conversations I conducted with random people. A saleslady in the Bombay Company took it upon herself to guess that the baby is a boy from the way I am carrying, and when told that it is a girl, she refused to believe me and followed me around the store talking about it while I looked at lamps. Her colleague also walked with me and assured me that Peggy (her name is Peggy) has been about 98 percent accurate at guessing the gender of people's babies. I told her that if the baby turned out to be a boy, I would be sure to come back and tell her so she could have her record back. Then I fled the store.

In Target, the woman in line in front of me asked when I was due, and when she found out that I am supposed to have Kate the day she had her son last year, proceeded to park her cart even though she was all checked out and could have left and told me her entire birth story in great detail and then walked out to the parking lot with me asking me if I was planning to stay home or go back to work. I actually felt awkward when I had to tell her that my car was on the other side of the parking lot from hers and I needed to go now. I was worried that maybe she was going to hug me goodbye or something.

At another furniture place, the saleslady asked me if my mom was excited about the baby, and when I told her yes, that it is the first grandchild for both our parents, she gushed for ten minutes about her own first grandchild and how she calls every day to talk to her on the phone. That was a sweet story, and she was a very nice lady, but what was strange to me was that people who are supposedly there to sell you things were requiring me to stand and talk to them for ten minutes before they would even allow me to view their merchandise. This is the fascination that my pregnant figure holds for people. It's like they can't help themselves.

Eventually, late in the day, I did what I should have done in the first place, and went to my favorite consignment store in the world (brief commercial here) Consignment Interiors in the Mountain Run Shopping Center on Eubank near Juan Tabo. My friend Judi and I love that place, and I always seem to find what I'm looking for there. And so, of course, within 15 minutes of walking in (after my obligatory ten minute pregnancy chat with the saleslady) I found the perfect lamps. I am just bored enough and proud enough of them to show them to you and tell you that I got them both for $40, and they are similar to these lamps which are much more expensive:

So, in conclusion, my findings are that the full moon does not seem to have any effect on labor and delivery. However, it does seem to bring me good deals and impair people's social judgment. Stay tuned for our next installment: "Wandering Around Your Neighborhood Late at Night: Labor-Inducer or Stalker Behavior?"