Well, being an adult sucks. This I have realized. When I was a kid I had this glorious vision of being grown up, driving around in some really cool vehicle, staying up as late as I want, no rules, no curfews. And here I am. Driving a 94 mini van (how much more uncool can you be??). The cruel irony is that now that I am of an age to stay up as late as I want, I am usually in bed I before my kids are. And now that I am of an age to party as late as I want or with whomover I want, I find that the things that I want are totally domestic boring stuff- like say, watching Robots with the kids. My major excitement for the month is going to see Walking with the Dinosaurs: A BBC documentary. I guess I turned out to be pretty lame, and the child me would be disapointed to see the adult that I have become. I spent my childhood and youth wishing I would hurry up and grow up, and now that I'm grown up, I wish for some of that youthful exuberance I once had. Well, in reality my teenage years were not necessarily always so exuberant. From what I recall I believe I slept until three on most days. These days if I sleep until nine I'm shocked. Today Payto was up at 5:30. The joys of parenthood. But another irony is that I have often found that as I parent, it is my children who give me insight and strength, rather than the other way around.
For example, this weekend I drove out to the lake and back by myself. I have always been able to fanangle a ride with someone else, but this time, there was no one else. So there I was, loading up the vehicle at seven a.m, dragging my sleepy, pajama laden children out into the vehicle, trying to mask my nervousness and anxiety for the kids sake. I feigned enthusiasm as I pulled out of the garage "Let's hit the highway!" I said to the kids, but basically I thought I might vomit. "Fake it til you make it" is a saying that sometimes come to mind. Sometimes you have to pretend to be stronger than you are for the sake of the kids, and then somewhere along the way, you realize that you actually are stronger than you thought! Anyways, my first highway experience turned out to be all right. It is a good feeling to know that I can do it.
And as if conquering that fear wasn't enough, I had to face another one soon upon returning home: The dentist, AKA sadistic, drill wielding mother f'ers. I hate going to the dentist. Even if they don't even do anything. It's just their scrapers and their pickers and pokers and the way gauze feels and tastes in your mouth and the coppery taste of blood in your own mouth. Argh. It makes me uneasy just to think about it. But it was really my children who taught me a lesson. Last month I took the kids to the dentist, and of course, they had cavities, how could they not with the amount of junk food they eat. The ratio is probably something like for every thirty pounds of sugar they ingest, they spend thirty seconds brushing thier teeth. And then I was so nervous for them to have thier cavities filled. Seeing them in the big dentist chair with the overlight glaring into their faces just about broke my heart. I was thinking they were going to cry, scream, try to writhe free. But they didn't. They just sat there. Perfectly calm. And I realized I was the only one who wasn't calm. I was projecting my own fears onto them. So that caused me to think about how irrational my own fears are then, if a three year old can sit there for half an hour and have her teeth worked on with nary a complaint. So this time when I went to the dentist, it was really the image of my kids that kept me in the dentist chair. If they can do it, then so can I. And besides, I got a free toothbrush out of the deal, so it was pretty good. It's a pretty nice toothbrush, and so far it has been working out well, thought I'm not sure about the long run.
Other than that, things are going well with the pregnancy. I am getting bigger, and it hard to imagine that I still have two more months of growing ahead of me. Yikes. But it's all good. I try not to complain about being pregnant. I remember once when I was in Superstore about three days after Payton was born. This chic ahead of my was hugely pregnant and complaining to her friend that "I just can't wait until this baby is born so I can finally get some sleep!" I almost choked and fell to the floor. I just thought "Man. I would switch places with you right now in a heartbeat. Maybe you are sleeping poorly now, but poorly is better than not at all, which is pretty much what you're going to get once that little sucker is born and it's round the clock feeding, burping and diapering." There I was buying Motrin and Tylenol, chocolate and caffeine, trying to keep my poor body going despite seventy two hours of very fragmented amounts of sleep. So, as I said, I try not to complain. The miracle of having a newborn is truly a miracle, but at the same time, I won't overglorify it. At times, it can plain out suck. Well, on that note. I have to be going now.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Thirty Weeks
Well, today I turn 30. Last time I turned 30 I was sad, distraught, suicidal, contemplating whether or not to turn my back on it all, buy a houseboat and live my life on the open sea, endlessly adrift in my middle ageness. But this time I'm happy to be turning thirty, because it is only weeks that I'm talking about and not years, so that makes a big difference. So now things are going well. I'm feeling pretty OK, I get a little tired sometimes, finding it hard to stay up past nine o'clock most days. But I don't mind getting the extra sleep now. Soon enough sleep will be a distant memory. I have an online baby pool, which some people have participated in (and some people have participated in twice, which, technically, is not really allowed, I might add, hint hint, mom.) I must say that I'm surprised that many people are guessing the weight quite low, like in the 7's. I have to say that I would be very surprised if the baby was anything less that 8ish, because statistics say that each baby gets bigger. Gage was 7-13, Payton was 8-4, so if the pattern continues (which it should, barring of course, that I take up a heroin addiction, which I probably won't on account of the fact that I'm scared of needles. I still haven't gotten that Tetanus shot I was supposed to get back in the fall of '07. If you need your memory refreshed, its all there in "So thats what letter openers are for") it could be close to nine pounds. My guess is 8-11. I think that seems about right.
Last night I did something which I thought I might never do, which is to go and see Tina Fey the idea stealing wench in her movie which was blatantly stolen from me and now she is capatilizing on it and I have now contributed to her further success by giving my seveny three dollars or whatever ridiculous price they are charging now for admission. But it had to be done in the name of market research/recon. It was actually a very good movie, two thumbs up. Actually four, because the baby was enjoying it as well, moving around a lot. But that could have just been the sixteen ounces of pop I drank. But in any case, it was good. And it was actually quite different than my book, so I feel better knowing that.
Other than that, not much new with me. The cat is still not speaking to me after I tried to establish communication with her last week. I'm pretty sure that she's angry with me, and I realize that the nuances of feline speech are perhaps more intricate than I thought. Meowing seems simple, but it's apparently a complex language. So I've aborted my mission for now. I will need to do some background research first, but unfortunately, this is slow going because there isn't a wealth of information available online about cat communication.
As for me and my writing, well, things haven't been going well. I've been sending out query letters to agents since November, but haven't really gained any ground. I've gotten only rejection letters so far, some replies are still pending, but it's hard to be really hopeful. It's discouraging, but there are still avenues to persue and I believe that persistence and patience will maybe some day pay off. If not, I continue to write and work at another book. I have decided that ultimately, I am a writer whether or not the greater publishing community thinks so or not. Maybe it is all a pipe dream, but I once heard the words from a very wise source "you can take a stand or just compromise, you can work real hard or just fantasize". OK. So it was KISS that sang that in "God gave rock and roll to you", but still. You can't argue thier success. You simply can't.
Last night I did something which I thought I might never do, which is to go and see Tina Fey the idea stealing wench in her movie which was blatantly stolen from me and now she is capatilizing on it and I have now contributed to her further success by giving my seveny three dollars or whatever ridiculous price they are charging now for admission. But it had to be done in the name of market research/recon. It was actually a very good movie, two thumbs up. Actually four, because the baby was enjoying it as well, moving around a lot. But that could have just been the sixteen ounces of pop I drank. But in any case, it was good. And it was actually quite different than my book, so I feel better knowing that.
Other than that, not much new with me. The cat is still not speaking to me after I tried to establish communication with her last week. I'm pretty sure that she's angry with me, and I realize that the nuances of feline speech are perhaps more intricate than I thought. Meowing seems simple, but it's apparently a complex language. So I've aborted my mission for now. I will need to do some background research first, but unfortunately, this is slow going because there isn't a wealth of information available online about cat communication.
As for me and my writing, well, things haven't been going well. I've been sending out query letters to agents since November, but haven't really gained any ground. I've gotten only rejection letters so far, some replies are still pending, but it's hard to be really hopeful. It's discouraging, but there are still avenues to persue and I believe that persistence and patience will maybe some day pay off. If not, I continue to write and work at another book. I have decided that ultimately, I am a writer whether or not the greater publishing community thinks so or not. Maybe it is all a pipe dream, but I once heard the words from a very wise source "you can take a stand or just compromise, you can work real hard or just fantasize". OK. So it was KISS that sang that in "God gave rock and roll to you", but still. You can't argue thier success. You simply can't.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Twenty Nine Weeks
Day one of cat communication log:
May 6, 1800h: I have tried initiating communication with the cat. Said a few sentences to her. She maintained good eye contact throughout, but did not meow back. After approximately thirty seconds, she twinkled her nose, and then departed. I am not sure if the nose twinkling is significant or not. Perhaps it is a non verbal cat gesture. Perhaps her nose was itchy. At this point so early in my research, it is hard to say. I am also not sure if her hasty retreat from the conversation is indicitive of A)her inability to understand my primitive meows or B)that I may have inadvertently said something to offend her. I am a little discouraged by my lack of progress with her, but feel that with some patience and persistence, the endeavor is worth persuing. I am contemplating immersing myself more fully into the cat culture, though this may be difficult for me because of A)my inability to lick myself "down there" (have tried sereral times, but unfortunately, my species lacks the agility of the cat species.) and B) the logistics of using a cat box due to both the size and position of the litter box. At any rate, I will have to reevaluate my tactics and try again to initiate contact at a later date.
As for other aspects of my life, things seem to be on track. Twenty nine weeks now and things are going quite well. I am getting fairly big, am expecting a big baby. High eight's, I would assume, hopefully not much bigger. I want a baby that still looks like a baby, after all, and not a six month old crammed into a onesie and jammed into a bassinette, although I suppose at this point, such a baby would indeed suffice, though I would prefer a somewhat sleeker model, more aerodynamic like. But I do go on... the point is, I'm getting big. This morning I changed my shirt five times because the first four made me look too big, but then finally at the fifth, I was like "well, OK. I guess I am actually big, and I guess it's not just the clothes." So I'll have to learn to deal. Interestingly, this fear of getting big and having a big baby does not really stop me from doing things that could lead to further bigness, on my part or the baby's. For example, today after lunch I wanted to try the new Brownie Ice Cap they have at Tims. Tim's is about two blocks away from work, so I was thinking, it could be a nice walk. But then I was like "who am I kidding. I don't want to walk. What's the point of having such a flashy vehicle if all I'm going to do is walk everywhere I go??" So I drove. And then today, I got this bag of fudge from Wal Mart. I was going to just eat a piece or two. But then I actually ate several. But anyways, I believe that that should be OK because there is no trans fat in them, so it's practically health food anyways.
And speaking of food, I have recently heard some news which rather disturbs me. The pickle industry is diversifying into the frozen food business. I have learned of a new product called "The Picklesicle" which is precisely what is sounds like it would be: frozen pickle juice on a stick. I don't know what kind of a person came up with this, or better yet: who looked at the business plan and was like "Yeah, this sounds like a sure thing. I want to sink all my money into this." What is this world coming to? I mean why stop at pickle juice? Surely gravy would make a nice frozen treat as well!
But back to me and my pregnancy. Here's the rundown: lots of hearburn, a moderate degree of back ache, some irritability (though I'm sure this is not due to the pregnancy, it's just my nature), names are more or less finalized: Olivia Jacqueline for a girl (the Jacqueline, of course, is after Jackie O., my idol. Well, actually I don't really know who she is. I think she was married to some politician or something, though, so that sounds good). For a boy Hunter something something. The middle name we don't really know at this point. Geoff wants it to be Geoffrey, which I think is a little nervy on his part since it is ME who is carrying this baby and will be pushing it out into the world. But whatever. I guess I may end up letting him have his wish, because technically I'm supposed to be married to him and care about what he wants, or some such thing like that, according to my wedding vows and so on and so forth. Should have read the fine print when I signed on for that, let me tell you. Anyways, as for the birth, Lorrie has generously agreed to do the fluting, but I'm a little ambivalent about that seeing as she doesn't actually own a flute, so I'm not convinced that she really practices or even knows any songs for that matter. So I am compiling a list of songs which have special meaning to me, or are just songs that I've always liked. I only hope that the CD players on L&D will play burned CD's, because some CD players don't. Anyways, lots of time to worry about that. But the thing is: time is going SOOO fast. It makes me a little nervous for some reason. I'm already at the point of biweekly dr appointments, which is actually good because I do enjoy seeing the doctor, which is strange because I work in a doctors office and am around doctors all day every day. But, anyways. I think I shall go now, as I am getting tuckered. It's not easy drinking ice caps all day and eating fudge. Very tiring. Very much. Will report later on developments with the cat. Have a good night.
May 6, 1800h: I have tried initiating communication with the cat. Said a few sentences to her. She maintained good eye contact throughout, but did not meow back. After approximately thirty seconds, she twinkled her nose, and then departed. I am not sure if the nose twinkling is significant or not. Perhaps it is a non verbal cat gesture. Perhaps her nose was itchy. At this point so early in my research, it is hard to say. I am also not sure if her hasty retreat from the conversation is indicitive of A)her inability to understand my primitive meows or B)that I may have inadvertently said something to offend her. I am a little discouraged by my lack of progress with her, but feel that with some patience and persistence, the endeavor is worth persuing. I am contemplating immersing myself more fully into the cat culture, though this may be difficult for me because of A)my inability to lick myself "down there" (have tried sereral times, but unfortunately, my species lacks the agility of the cat species.) and B) the logistics of using a cat box due to both the size and position of the litter box. At any rate, I will have to reevaluate my tactics and try again to initiate contact at a later date.
As for other aspects of my life, things seem to be on track. Twenty nine weeks now and things are going quite well. I am getting fairly big, am expecting a big baby. High eight's, I would assume, hopefully not much bigger. I want a baby that still looks like a baby, after all, and not a six month old crammed into a onesie and jammed into a bassinette, although I suppose at this point, such a baby would indeed suffice, though I would prefer a somewhat sleeker model, more aerodynamic like. But I do go on... the point is, I'm getting big. This morning I changed my shirt five times because the first four made me look too big, but then finally at the fifth, I was like "well, OK. I guess I am actually big, and I guess it's not just the clothes." So I'll have to learn to deal. Interestingly, this fear of getting big and having a big baby does not really stop me from doing things that could lead to further bigness, on my part or the baby's. For example, today after lunch I wanted to try the new Brownie Ice Cap they have at Tims. Tim's is about two blocks away from work, so I was thinking, it could be a nice walk. But then I was like "who am I kidding. I don't want to walk. What's the point of having such a flashy vehicle if all I'm going to do is walk everywhere I go??" So I drove. And then today, I got this bag of fudge from Wal Mart. I was going to just eat a piece or two. But then I actually ate several. But anyways, I believe that that should be OK because there is no trans fat in them, so it's practically health food anyways.
And speaking of food, I have recently heard some news which rather disturbs me. The pickle industry is diversifying into the frozen food business. I have learned of a new product called "The Picklesicle" which is precisely what is sounds like it would be: frozen pickle juice on a stick. I don't know what kind of a person came up with this, or better yet: who looked at the business plan and was like "Yeah, this sounds like a sure thing. I want to sink all my money into this." What is this world coming to? I mean why stop at pickle juice? Surely gravy would make a nice frozen treat as well!
But back to me and my pregnancy. Here's the rundown: lots of hearburn, a moderate degree of back ache, some irritability (though I'm sure this is not due to the pregnancy, it's just my nature), names are more or less finalized: Olivia Jacqueline for a girl (the Jacqueline, of course, is after Jackie O., my idol. Well, actually I don't really know who she is. I think she was married to some politician or something, though, so that sounds good). For a boy Hunter something something. The middle name we don't really know at this point. Geoff wants it to be Geoffrey, which I think is a little nervy on his part since it is ME who is carrying this baby and will be pushing it out into the world. But whatever. I guess I may end up letting him have his wish, because technically I'm supposed to be married to him and care about what he wants, or some such thing like that, according to my wedding vows and so on and so forth. Should have read the fine print when I signed on for that, let me tell you. Anyways, as for the birth, Lorrie has generously agreed to do the fluting, but I'm a little ambivalent about that seeing as she doesn't actually own a flute, so I'm not convinced that she really practices or even knows any songs for that matter. So I am compiling a list of songs which have special meaning to me, or are just songs that I've always liked. I only hope that the CD players on L&D will play burned CD's, because some CD players don't. Anyways, lots of time to worry about that. But the thing is: time is going SOOO fast. It makes me a little nervous for some reason. I'm already at the point of biweekly dr appointments, which is actually good because I do enjoy seeing the doctor, which is strange because I work in a doctors office and am around doctors all day every day. But, anyways. I think I shall go now, as I am getting tuckered. It's not easy drinking ice caps all day and eating fudge. Very tiring. Very much. Will report later on developments with the cat. Have a good night.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Chapter One of New Book
ONE
I’m starting to get a little nervous.
Starting to get nervous? Cripes. I’ve been nervous the whole freaking hour that I’ve been trapped in this dingy office.
Technically, I’m not trapped. I just feel trapped. I’m free to go at any point. The door is open, and freedom is just a few feet away. But I still remain seated, arms folded, legs crossed. The walls are completely white except for one single poster. When I first saw the poster I really didn’t pay much attention. It was of osteoporosis, of all things, and I figure that unless I’m seventy nine years old, there’s not much I need to know about it. But then I started to get desperate. And now I have read that poster over a dozen times.
Frankly, I’m starting to get nervous about osteoporosis. My diet is lacking in dairy. I just know that it is. Unless you can count Coffee Creamo.
Or chocolate bars.
I resolve right then and there that as soon as I ever get out of here I’m going to buy a big bottle of calcium supplements. I’m going to have the biggest, densest bones ever. I’ll be freakishly solid. People will envy me for my bone density. This is my new goal.
Finally, the doctor enters the room and closes the door behind him.
“It’s a good thing you came in today, Maddy,” he began as he sat down. The strained, pinched, expression on his face worries me.
My stomach lurches.
“It was positive, wasn’t it?” I ask. I was sure that it was, but still, this is hard to take.
He shook his head. “The pregnancy test was negative. But while the lab tech was running the test, she noticed that your urine had a fairly strong, foul odor. So we ran some other tests on it. As it turns out, it has some very unusual characteristics to it.”
“Unusual how?” I ask.
“There are organisms in it that are very unusual. In fact, there are no documented cases of them ever being seen in humans. It’s very perplexing. I’ve consulted with a specialist in ID, infectious disease, and he wants you admitted for tests. It could actually be quite serious,” he says, his face grave.
“Admitted? Like to a hospital, or something?”
“Yes. I’m afraid so. But it looks like we might have caught this thing early enough to nip it in the bud, so to speak. You’re vital signs are stable, and your physical exam seems perfectly normal, so there’s reason to be hopeful that it hasn’t started to effect your other systems.”
“I don’t want to go to the hospital,” I say. “I feel quite fine, so…”
“You may feel fine now, but…it’s a race against time to figure out what is going on here. Frankly, we’re all stumped. Right now time is on our side, but soon- and there’s no telling how soon- you’ll start to deteriorate into kidney failure, which will lead to other organ failure. We have to pursue this rather aggressively. There is no other choice, I’m afraid.”
I slink down in my chair.
“I just… I have a paper due, and some other stuff. But once things settle down with school I’ll check myself in. I promise.”
“All the arrangements have already been made. The ID specialist will meet you in the ER. He’s waiting there now.”
I slink down further into my chair, trying to make myself invisible. I chastise myself for this whole stupid, hair brained scheme. If only it wasn’t for that damn lousy, nosy lab tech. What business is it of hers to be smelling my urine, anyways? She should have just done her job and done the pregnancy test, nothing less and nothing more. I would be out of here now, enjoying my calcium pills.
“Can I tell you something… off the record?” I ask.
He looks puzzled and gives a slow, wary nod.
“Would it make a difference if I said that the urine wasn’t mine?”
“Well, yes, it would make a difference. A huge difference. You need to tell me exactly whose sample it is. Her life could be in danger.”
I look down at the floor, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.
“It’s not exactly a person,” I confess.
“Come again?” he asks.
“It belongs to my cat, Shirley.”
“You brought your cats’ urine in for a pregnancy test?”
I nod sheepishly.
“For what purpose?” he asks.
“Well, do you know how expensive it is to take a cat to a vet? A simple test like that could cost a hundred dollars!”
“I see,” he says pointedly. “So you decided to commit fraud?”
“It’s not fraud, it’s just…I’m a student. I don’t have any money for vet bills. I don’t even have money for…for food…or calcium supplements, which I apparently might need, by the way. And there are no free clinics for cats. So what was I to do? And do you have any idea how hard it was to collect a urine sample from a cat?”
“No. And I am certainly not interested in finding out. I have spent half the morning on the phone consulting with other doctors because of your little scheme. You’ve completely wasted my time, and the time of all my patients whose appointments have been delayed because of you and your cat. Not to mention the fact that the very head of infectious disease has cleared his while morning for you. You have made a complete mockery of the Medicare system that we are so very fortunate to have. I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask that you not return to these offices.”
I nod slowly. “All right. I suppose that’s fair. But just for clarification, before I go. That test was negative?”
“All I can tell you is that it was negative for Human Chorionic Gonadotropin. The test was not exactly designed for cats and the results are totally invalid,” he said with indignation before he stalked out of the room.
At first, I’m a little slighted that he reacted so harshly. But then the more I think about it, the more I begin to take offence to it. It wasn’t like I did anything wrong, or at least not really wrong. Some people don’t even shower before their Pap test, and that should be grounds for dismissal right there. I for one, I am very meticulous in my grooming before pap tests, a fact which I would think he would at least consider. Maybe what I did was a little wrong, that I’ll concede, but no one’s perfect. But still, I’m surprised he wasn’t a little more understanding of my situation. Perhaps it was all for the best. And besides, it’s not like Dr. Reeder’s the only doctor in the world, right? There’s other fish in the sea. And the least he could do is have trendier posters on his wall. Like for Lupus or that disease that Micheal J. Fox has, whatever that was again.
26 Weeks
Things are going well. Time seems to be really flying now! I can't believe I'm already headed into the third trimester- the final frontier. I'm getting excited, but it seems to be a more subdued excitement. I guess that's what happens with baby #3. We have some preliminary names picked out, are not 100% sure but so far we were thinking of Hunter for a boy and either Olivia or Bailey for a girl. Everyone seems to have an opinion as to the gender. There is only opinion which I really agree with, which is that "time will tell". Myself, I try not to speculate about the gender. We already have a boy and a girl, so either way it's all good. They posted my position today at work, so that was kind of weird. It was kind of bittersweet, and at first I wasn't sure why it should be saddening. But then, first off, these days just about anything is saddening-- doesn't take much when you're six months preggo. And secondly, I guess I just feel like so much of my identity and sense of self worth comes from that professional identity. Stepping outside of that, even temporarily, is somewhat sad. I feel like I'm leaving a little piece of myself behind. As much as I complain about work, I do find the job rewarding and interesting and, even at times, fun. I get to stick people with needles, come on. Who wouldn't love that? But I guess, when the time comes I think I will be more than ready to go. But even yesterday was wierd. I stayed home with Payton because she was sick (note to readers: when a three year old tells you their tummy hurts- NOT a good idea to pick them up and let them bury their head in your chest. Take it from me- this will lead to getting vomit down your shirt.) Anyways, she was sick so I was home. Gage was at school. And it was like, OK. 0730- breakfast. 0745- tidy kitchen. 0800- now what?? I'm used to rush, rush in the morning. Rush, rush, rush, when I get home from work. But I suppose I will settle into a routine soon enough and I guess when the baby is actually out I will be a whole lot busier.
Other things are going basically OK. Geoff and I have some recent conversations which have left me disturbed. The other day I asked him if he would still stay married to me if I accidentally killed the dog. He said, yeah, prob., because if it was an accident then he would not really hold it against me. And then I said "well, what if it was accidentally on purpose?" and he said "well, I guess it would sort of depend on what that means, exactly." So I said, "OK. Lets say that I slipped a ligature around JDs neck when she was asleep and tightened it until her eyes bulged out and she went completely flaccid" And he says that no, he basically would leave me if I did that and not only that but try to take the kids as well. And I said, well, that's not really fair. I mean, a dog is not a trade off for the kids? After all, a dog is only a dog, and it's basically easy come, easy come so far as that goes. But then he said something about killing animals being a sign of serious mental problems, and I was like, well, that's good to know because I saw you kill a squirrel once, which he claims was an accident- because it was on the highway when we were driving to the lake and it would have been dangerous to go into the othe lane to avoid it. But still. Some say there is no such thing as accidents. Or that's coincidences that they say that about. But for the most part coincidences are accidents and the two terms are interchangeable, so...
And then one day I asked the cat, Brady, if it was hard to be a cat, and she nodded. I told Geoff all about it, all excited that I had broken the cat down and established communication. But then he just dismissed it, like I was crazy or something. And then he accused me of lying! saying that cats don't nod and that I'm just 'seeing what I want to see'. Of all the nerve. I mean, isn't trust the foundation for a marriage? I read that somewhere, and I beleive it was a pretty good source- Cosmo maybe. So I guess our marriage may be all a big sham. I don't know.
Onto other matters. I have been most disturbed lately by the advertisment for "Baby Mama" starring one Ms Tina Fey, which is about a surrogate mother. Now, you may now that I have written a book on the subject, a book which I once believed to be a very novel and original idea. And now it's all over. They stole my idea and I blame THIS website for the thievery. I posted my ideas for my book, and even some of the book itself, on this site and it was one of my supposed fans who sold me down the river to Tina Fey and gave her the idea. So I am going to try to find out which one of you betrayed me, and once I do: make no mistake: I will slit your throat. Maybe not very deep, OK. In all likelihood, it will probably a fairly superficial cut. I don't want any jail time or anything. The idea of sodomy does not appeal to me. But still... whoever you are, and you KNOW who you are: be afraid.
Now you may think that I would learn from my mistake. But that is not really the case with me, I believe in just barreling ahead. So what I am going to do now is just go ahead and post the first chapter of my new book, which I have recently started writing, since my last book is basically a no go at this point, thanks in no small part to Tina Fey, AKA idea stealing WHORE. Anyways, thanks for reading. Good day. And for you out there, the turn coat yellow belly double crossing snake: a word of advice: Sleep with one eye open. Okay, that was five words. Anyways, that is all for now.
Other things are going basically OK. Geoff and I have some recent conversations which have left me disturbed. The other day I asked him if he would still stay married to me if I accidentally killed the dog. He said, yeah, prob., because if it was an accident then he would not really hold it against me. And then I said "well, what if it was accidentally on purpose?" and he said "well, I guess it would sort of depend on what that means, exactly." So I said, "OK. Lets say that I slipped a ligature around JDs neck when she was asleep and tightened it until her eyes bulged out and she went completely flaccid" And he says that no, he basically would leave me if I did that and not only that but try to take the kids as well. And I said, well, that's not really fair. I mean, a dog is not a trade off for the kids? After all, a dog is only a dog, and it's basically easy come, easy come so far as that goes. But then he said something about killing animals being a sign of serious mental problems, and I was like, well, that's good to know because I saw you kill a squirrel once, which he claims was an accident- because it was on the highway when we were driving to the lake and it would have been dangerous to go into the othe lane to avoid it. But still. Some say there is no such thing as accidents. Or that's coincidences that they say that about. But for the most part coincidences are accidents and the two terms are interchangeable, so...
And then one day I asked the cat, Brady, if it was hard to be a cat, and she nodded. I told Geoff all about it, all excited that I had broken the cat down and established communication. But then he just dismissed it, like I was crazy or something. And then he accused me of lying! saying that cats don't nod and that I'm just 'seeing what I want to see'. Of all the nerve. I mean, isn't trust the foundation for a marriage? I read that somewhere, and I beleive it was a pretty good source- Cosmo maybe. So I guess our marriage may be all a big sham. I don't know.
Onto other matters. I have been most disturbed lately by the advertisment for "Baby Mama" starring one Ms Tina Fey, which is about a surrogate mother. Now, you may now that I have written a book on the subject, a book which I once believed to be a very novel and original idea. And now it's all over. They stole my idea and I blame THIS website for the thievery. I posted my ideas for my book, and even some of the book itself, on this site and it was one of my supposed fans who sold me down the river to Tina Fey and gave her the idea. So I am going to try to find out which one of you betrayed me, and once I do: make no mistake: I will slit your throat. Maybe not very deep, OK. In all likelihood, it will probably a fairly superficial cut. I don't want any jail time or anything. The idea of sodomy does not appeal to me. But still... whoever you are, and you KNOW who you are: be afraid.
Now you may think that I would learn from my mistake. But that is not really the case with me, I believe in just barreling ahead. So what I am going to do now is just go ahead and post the first chapter of my new book, which I have recently started writing, since my last book is basically a no go at this point, thanks in no small part to Tina Fey, AKA idea stealing WHORE. Anyways, thanks for reading. Good day. And for you out there, the turn coat yellow belly double crossing snake: a word of advice: Sleep with one eye open. Okay, that was five words. Anyways, that is all for now.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
16 Weeks and Feeling Fine
Hello. So the time is really flying by. I am already sixteen weeks five days, so that is quite good. I'm already into the second trimester. It's kind of bittersweet for me, because this is my last pregnancy (for sure this time), I want to really enjoy it, don't want to wish it away. But it's going quickly nonetheless. A few more weeks will be the halfway point already. I am starting to show a bit more now, and am into maternity clothes, which is exciting right now but five months from now I'm sure I will absolute these clothes that excite me so today. But I guess that's the way it is. Novelty fades fast.
Onto other news. A major crisis is looming in my life. My vehicle, Safari Blue, has suffered a major set back with her engine. She seized up on December 10th and is STILL recovering from this. It is totally frustrating not having a vehicle. Safari Blue has been in the shop for almost two months and that sketchy guy keeps putting me off "Next week it will be done". But next week has come and gone several times over and I am still carpooling with my husband. I guess that's OK. It's pretty much the only time we ever get alone together, so maybe we should embrace the oppurtunity. But mostly all we do is talk about the weather. But I guess that's the way marriage goes. As I said before, novelty fades fast.
The other thing that is new with me is I finished the book I was working on!!!! I finished it on or about mid January. I was really excited to finish the final chapter. But then I was sort of saddened. Its fairly anti climactic to finish a book. It's like you spend so much of your time and energy working on it, thinking about it, and then all of a sudden, its done. So now I am working on trying to get an agent, but that has not been going well. Writing the book actually seems like the easy part. I have written five literary agencies. Two rejected me, although I have to say that so far as rejection letters go they were fairly optimistic-- citing the reason as "market conditions" or "current workload back up". One actually said that my project "was interesting and inspired with many appealing elements". But it was still a no. A third person said they would read my manuscript- for a price. A large price, and even that wouldn't gauruntee that they would represent me. There are two others out there in limbo, replies pending. It's been about two months, so I am considering this as a good sign- maybe it means that they are considering it or thinking about it. Usually they are pretty quick to fire off those rejection letters.
Anyways, that is about it for me for now.
Onto other news. A major crisis is looming in my life. My vehicle, Safari Blue, has suffered a major set back with her engine. She seized up on December 10th and is STILL recovering from this. It is totally frustrating not having a vehicle. Safari Blue has been in the shop for almost two months and that sketchy guy keeps putting me off "Next week it will be done". But next week has come and gone several times over and I am still carpooling with my husband. I guess that's OK. It's pretty much the only time we ever get alone together, so maybe we should embrace the oppurtunity. But mostly all we do is talk about the weather. But I guess that's the way marriage goes. As I said before, novelty fades fast.
The other thing that is new with me is I finished the book I was working on!!!! I finished it on or about mid January. I was really excited to finish the final chapter. But then I was sort of saddened. Its fairly anti climactic to finish a book. It's like you spend so much of your time and energy working on it, thinking about it, and then all of a sudden, its done. So now I am working on trying to get an agent, but that has not been going well. Writing the book actually seems like the easy part. I have written five literary agencies. Two rejected me, although I have to say that so far as rejection letters go they were fairly optimistic-- citing the reason as "market conditions" or "current workload back up". One actually said that my project "was interesting and inspired with many appealing elements". But it was still a no. A third person said they would read my manuscript- for a price. A large price, and even that wouldn't gauruntee that they would represent me. There are two others out there in limbo, replies pending. It's been about two months, so I am considering this as a good sign- maybe it means that they are considering it or thinking about it. Usually they are pretty quick to fire off those rejection letters.
Anyways, that is about it for me for now.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
11 Weeks and Feeling Chunky
This post is from Jan 2/07
I had saved it until I could fix my USB, but I am still no further ahead on that issue, so I'll just go ahead and post it without the pictures.
Hello again. It's been a while since I've written on here. Hopefully there are some of you still out there. If not, well, what the heck. Anyways, the last time I wrote on here I believe I was saying that my husband wanted to start wearing condoms (plug your ears mom) and so I was getting worried about that. Luckily for me, the Fates have taken my side on this issue and mere days after that last post I got a postive pregnancy test. TOO LATE!! I told my husband. The pregnancy came in just under the wire as I like to say, and things have been going great ever since. My doctor has me on these crazy hormone supplements, and so far they seem to be making all the difference. We had an ultrasound the week before christmas which was COMPLETELY NORMAL, so that was exciting. I'm like Pavlov's dogs when I go to that ultrasound place-- operant conditioning has taught me that I become psychologically traumatized when I go for ultrasound so as soon I see the room and the gel and the table I become physically ill and really anxious and tense. I didn't even want to look at the screen, such was my fear. But staightaway the ultrasound chic (I'm pretty sure that's not her official title) said 'Its OK' and then I looked and I saw the most beatiful little blobby that I've ever seen. So cute. So blobby, with a strong heart rate of 169 and moving it's little stubbly arms and legs. So I'm due on July 19th, which makes me now 11 weeks, 4 days.
I'm at this point now where my stomach is starting to pop out a bit, which at first I thought was great. Now I'm becoming disullusioned because every time I catch my side profile it seems apparent that I'm at some in between point where I'm not really fully 'showing' but my stomach does seem to be chunkier than usual, which gives the impression that I've hit the holiday egg nog too hard. Which I haven't. I don't even like egg nog. I don't even know what that stuff is. What the hell is 'nog'? and how are eggs a drink? Anyways.
So that is the main thing for me. Other than that-- Christmas was good, the kids are doing well, growing like weeds, though I'm uncertain as to how this is possible when I see what they eat. We took them to a buffet on New Years and what do they take. Payton: a bowl of Borscht and a bowl of Jello. I'm looking at her food and the $6.99 they charged for it and thinking 'something doesn't add up." Gage: A bowl of mashed potatoes and a bowl of Jello. I don't get it. I really don't. Anyways, this is it for now. This is a picture of me, pregant, 11 weeks. It may be difficult to really appreciate because my husband hasn't quite figured out how to work the 'zoom' feature on the camera. This could take a while. I'm still working on getting the toilet seats down, so... I basically don't hold out much hope.
Okay. I can't post the picture. Some problem with my USB port. Will try to adress this sometime soon, but I'm sure you can imagine well enough what I look like in the meantime.
I had saved it until I could fix my USB, but I am still no further ahead on that issue, so I'll just go ahead and post it without the pictures.
Hello again. It's been a while since I've written on here. Hopefully there are some of you still out there. If not, well, what the heck. Anyways, the last time I wrote on here I believe I was saying that my husband wanted to start wearing condoms (plug your ears mom) and so I was getting worried about that. Luckily for me, the Fates have taken my side on this issue and mere days after that last post I got a postive pregnancy test. TOO LATE!! I told my husband. The pregnancy came in just under the wire as I like to say, and things have been going great ever since. My doctor has me on these crazy hormone supplements, and so far they seem to be making all the difference. We had an ultrasound the week before christmas which was COMPLETELY NORMAL, so that was exciting. I'm like Pavlov's dogs when I go to that ultrasound place-- operant conditioning has taught me that I become psychologically traumatized when I go for ultrasound so as soon I see the room and the gel and the table I become physically ill and really anxious and tense. I didn't even want to look at the screen, such was my fear. But staightaway the ultrasound chic (I'm pretty sure that's not her official title) said 'Its OK' and then I looked and I saw the most beatiful little blobby that I've ever seen. So cute. So blobby, with a strong heart rate of 169 and moving it's little stubbly arms and legs. So I'm due on July 19th, which makes me now 11 weeks, 4 days.
I'm at this point now where my stomach is starting to pop out a bit, which at first I thought was great. Now I'm becoming disullusioned because every time I catch my side profile it seems apparent that I'm at some in between point where I'm not really fully 'showing' but my stomach does seem to be chunkier than usual, which gives the impression that I've hit the holiday egg nog too hard. Which I haven't. I don't even like egg nog. I don't even know what that stuff is. What the hell is 'nog'? and how are eggs a drink? Anyways.
So that is the main thing for me. Other than that-- Christmas was good, the kids are doing well, growing like weeds, though I'm uncertain as to how this is possible when I see what they eat. We took them to a buffet on New Years and what do they take. Payton: a bowl of Borscht and a bowl of Jello. I'm looking at her food and the $6.99 they charged for it and thinking 'something doesn't add up." Gage: A bowl of mashed potatoes and a bowl of Jello. I don't get it. I really don't. Anyways, this is it for now. This is a picture of me, pregant, 11 weeks. It may be difficult to really appreciate because my husband hasn't quite figured out how to work the 'zoom' feature on the camera. This could take a while. I'm still working on getting the toilet seats down, so... I basically don't hold out much hope.
Okay. I can't post the picture. Some problem with my USB port. Will try to adress this sometime soon, but I'm sure you can imagine well enough what I look like in the meantime.
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