Color me uncomfortable

Welcome to 2006 -- The year of the Life-Changing Event.

Also, The Year of the Uncomfortable Pregnancy.

I mean sure, the backaches and the pains in the cervix and the butt in my diaphragm and the foot in my rib and the huge stomach are GREAT material. But it's starting to get a little old already.

How am I going to last another three weeks much less another six?

Case in point.

We saw another movie last night (Capote). It was fabulous. Not so fabulous were the contortions I put myself through in the search for a comfortable position.

It started out innocently enough. But degraded into me raising the armrest and slouching halfway into the seat next to me. But then the butt in the middle of my ribs protested by shoving itself even further upwards.

So I tried leaning toward the other side. That caused the foot in my rib to show its displeasure by trying to tunnel out of my skin.

I came thisclose to lying down on the floor in the handicapped aisle, but the thought of lying in sticky popcorn residue and the possibility the accumulated salt could pickle my skin stopped me.

For the last 15 minutes of the movie -- which coincided with the edge of your seat plot device -- all I could think about was getting the hell out of that theater. I think the male friend we were with assumed I was the most insane pregnant woman on the face of the earth. What with all the shifting and the sighing and the pained looks on my face.

But you see, I am committed to seeing the movies that will be nominated for an Oscar. In the last 10 days, we have seen Syriana, King Kong, Walk the Line and Capote. We have a few left to tackle before the stitches come out and by God, I will support the Motion Picture Association. It needs my $9.75.

So I will buck up and brave the pain and suffering. It's the least I can do. Besides, when else can you justify movie popcorn three times a week than when you are knocked up?