Heyas.
So...I'm in the official countdown to my first insemination. Just waiting for AF to show up (for, hopefully, the last time for a very, very long time!). And then it's the nerve-wracking wait for the eggie to ripen and release, and the even more nerve-wracking TWW. I'm kind of looking forward to my first TWW...I think it'll be an interesting experience.
I'm slowly getting things together and ready for the Big Day...I'm giving myself one more weekend and then absolutely, positively cutting myself off the caffeine. I'm practicing contortions with hips elevated. I'm faithfully downing my prenatals, and my evening primrose oil. And I found an oral syringe.
That has attachments.
Seriously, there are attachments on a freakin' oral syringe. It's designed to shove medicine and other liquids down a kid's throat, and it's got three extra attachments that I can screw on to it. There's the medicine cup attachment, and what appears to be a wide-dispersement attachment. Honestly, what the heck would I need a wide stream of medicine for? Whatever, as long as it gets the swimmers where they need to be, I'm good.
For once, there have been very few zany adventures for me to rant and rave about in a blog entry. I mean really, generally with me, hijinx seem to ensue in everything I attempt...but things have been remarkably calm lately. I'm having fun with my sister, as she's planning her wedding and we're going to have a fun girls' day tomorrow, trying out menus at the venue she wants to have it at, and going dress-hunting. She's already got the perfect dress in mind, but she hasn't tried it on, yet. So, we'll see if it looks as good on her as it does on the web.
Other than that, eh, all's quiet on the western front. I hope it stays that way, really...less stress for me means better ttc chances, yes? It's a little hard to believe for me...this time next month, I could be pregnant. Yes, yes, I know the odds and percentages of success, but I'm going to enjoy the optimism of the young and foolish while I can. So, Miss-Suzy-Cream-Cheese, I shall give thee free rein in anticipation for next month...may your relentless good energy encompass everything, and bring me my Imp that much faster.
In lieu of a wild, mildly amusing recounting of the latest episode of the Sitcom That Is My Life, I think I'm going to dive headfirst into a simmering pool of unrelentingly mushy goo. Feel free to head elsewhere if you wish, or at least have a bit of insulin handy.
Dear Imp,
It's incredible to me how real you already are, in my head and in my heart. Sometimes, I sit back and think of you and I smile at the sheer warmth and love I feel for you. My darling, enchanting son...my precious, lovely daughter--whichever guise you come to me in, I can't wait to hold you for the first time. I'm gathering all your necessities, making provisions for your future, and each little deed or purchase makes me feel that much closer to you. I've already chosen your name...Sebastian Gabriel if you come as a boy and Lydia Caitlin if you come as a girl. Either way, I don't care...I just want you here with me.
I hope you have my green eyes and I emphatically hope you do NOT inhereit my height (such as it is). I can't wait to sing to you and read you stories. I can't wait to tote you around your first sci-fi 'con, and I can't wait for you to meet the huge, crazy, screwed up family that you will call your own and will love you beyond all reason. I can't wait to sit up at night worrying about you, about whether you'll be happy and successful, about whether or not I'm doing you a thousand disservices, about what kind of parent I am. I can't wait to support you in whatever you do, and create a peaceful, loving home for you.
I can't wait to give you a brother or sister!
Waiting for you and preparing for you has already been the most wonderful, terrifying experience ever, and I can't wait for the whole thing to magnify a thousand-fold when you're truly here. I promise, I will be the best that I can possibly be for you. I will always strive to be better for you, to give you everything you need and teach you how to be the best you can be.
I already love you more than I've ever loved anything in my life, and I can't wait to meet you, Imp...I hope it's soon.
Jun 27, 2008
Jun 21, 2008
I Drank Those Suckers Under the Table!
This month's OPK's, to be precise.
Heyas.
*sigh* I'm a pretty clever person...honestly, I am. Not being conceited at all. Comes with that whole "teacher" territory, you know? Thing is, sometimes utterly common sense-type stuff tends to elude me. Another character flaw? I'm kind of paranoid...verging on OCD territory, but it doesn't really negatively impact my life. It's a "check two or three times to make sure the door is locked and the car alarm is armed" thing, rather than a "wash my hands until they bleed" type thing. Annoying, yes, but not bad, per se.
However, when the two tendencies combine....
Take this month, for instance. I KNOW when I tend to ovulate. I get temps, and a definite fade-in of LH on my OPK's that corresponds directly with O cramps, cervical fluid patterns, and my charts. I've got my O narrowed to the same 2-3 CD's each month. I know this.
But I'm trying for the Imp next month...really and truly going for it, and so of course the paranoia kicked in. Do I *really* have it? Am I 100% sure? The inner voice starts whispering, and I start getting less confident, and then the inner voice starts telling me I better make *sure* and how to do that. This would be an excellent plan, except for one thing.
My inner voice is, I think, the reincarnation of Lucille frickin' Ball.
"I'm just gonna test the whole 'fertile week' this month!" says I. "I'm going to freakin' *watch* the positive OPK appear, day by day."
So, I go and buy three boxes of the Answer-brand OPK's (the seven days, not the twenty). And I pee on those suckers three times a day, starting four days before I'm due to O.
Thing is, I don't produce that much pee, usually. My solution? I start drinking a crapload of water...and not just any water. No, not tap water for this Elf. CVS was having a sale on SmartWater, which I quite like.
So I'm drinking water that has been filled with electrolytes and heaven-knows-what-else.
*double sigh*
So, 'round about the third day of doing this, I'm literally raising the glass to my lips when it kinda dawns on me...
LH surge is detected by concentration of LH in my pee. Drinking lots of water dilutes the pee. As well as any hormones that are in the pee.
And I'm working myself into a tizzy because the reliable fade-in has not been reliable this month.
And then I'm like: Damn. It. All.
*triple sigh*
So, I didn't get my positive OPK this month...I *think* I caught the tail-end of the surge after I abandoned the drinking like a fish routine, 'cause I got one test that was sooooooo close to positive I literally had to sit and look at it in, like, three different sets of light to decide...but no, not quite. The next tests were of decidedly fade-*out* nature, and corresponded perfectly with the appearance of EWCM and O cramps, so like I said, tail end. Couldn't temp this month, 'cause my sleeping habits have been all messed up getting onto a summer schedule, and I'm sleeping in three different houses depending on what night of the week it is...with three different ideas of acceptable air conditioning...it's just not worth it to try to adjust.
Notes to Self:
1. Clear Blue Easy Digital OPK's are a must next month.
2. Normal drinking habits only.
3. Test between 11'ish and 8'ish only.
*nods*
Welcome to the crazy world of ttc, eh? Still, if this is the craziest it gets, I shall count myself very, very lucky. I can't wait 'til I try my first self-insem...should be one for the history books. I'm seeing a bit of furtively trying to wash the sheets in my mother's house combined with a little something plastic getting caught somewhere unfortunate.
Speaking of plastic things getting caught in unfortunate places...where do you ladies get your oral syringes? 'Cause WalMart, purveyer of all things needful (and/or stamped with the John Deere logo) didn't have any, CVS didn't have any...well, yeah, they had one, but I'll be damned if I shove that sucker up my ladybits! I don't even own a vibe that big around!
Ahem.
Seriously...where does one get them? Vet's office? Doctor? Can you just go into a doctor's office and ask for a little oral syringe?
In case you hadn't noticed...I'm going just a bit neurotic here. It's just, I'm actually going to DO this. I've been wanting this for almost five years...and I decided that this summer would be the try-date a full year and a half ago. Almost five years just waiting to *try* for my Imp. It's a little overwhelming to actually be *doing*. And yes, realistically, I know there's not a whole lot of chance of this taking the first time out of the gate. It does happen, but that's the exception, not the rule. And I can wait, I really can. I just don't *want* to, you know?
I'm also going to be doing this completely by myself. Not the mothering bit...I mean, yeah, duh, SMBC here...of course I'm gonna be doing it by myself. But I mean the actual insemination. I've decided not to tell everyone when I'm doing it and if I DO happen to get pregnant, to keep it to myself until at least Thanksgiving.
Well, not the ladies on the boards.
But the thing is, I also know that a large number of pregnancies end up in miscarriage. That's why so many women can go for weeks and not know they're pregnant. It just shows up as a late period. I think I could handle it if I lost a baby early on. I *don't* think I could handle my entire family knowing about it. I don't like pity, and I don't like people trying to awkwardly pat my hand and tell me it'll be okay.
And, if I do get pregnant and it sticks...no, WHEN I get pregnant and it sticks...I'll have those few weeks when it's literally my own special secret. Me and the Imp, totally just the two of us. I like that.
So, if all goes well...I'm trying in about four or five weeks. I'll order the swimmers to arrive at the end of the third week (lots of welding places around here I can get liquid nitrogen, and I don't mind to pay a fee to keep the suckers here and handy for the instant I need 'em). Heh, I'll be testing in Africa...I also feel positive energy in that. Being on the greatest adventure of my life and discovering whether or not I'm about to embark on an even greater one.
Plus which, I TOTALLY want to announce my pregnancy to the family by showing them a slideshow/video of my Africa trip that ends with a shot of me on Tabletop Mountain or something, with a total Mastercard caption: "Trip to Africa: $10,000 grant; Bug Spray and Supplies: $100; Telling You There's Two of Us In This Picture: Priceless!"
Seriously, how cool would that be?
Things Elfgirl is looking forward to: July insem! C'mon, Imp, Mommy's waiting!
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: my sister's dog. Housebreak the darn thing already!
Pretty Boy of the Moment: James Roday. Word.
Heyas.
*sigh* I'm a pretty clever person...honestly, I am. Not being conceited at all. Comes with that whole "teacher" territory, you know? Thing is, sometimes utterly common sense-type stuff tends to elude me. Another character flaw? I'm kind of paranoid...verging on OCD territory, but it doesn't really negatively impact my life. It's a "check two or three times to make sure the door is locked and the car alarm is armed" thing, rather than a "wash my hands until they bleed" type thing. Annoying, yes, but not bad, per se.
However, when the two tendencies combine....
Take this month, for instance. I KNOW when I tend to ovulate. I get temps, and a definite fade-in of LH on my OPK's that corresponds directly with O cramps, cervical fluid patterns, and my charts. I've got my O narrowed to the same 2-3 CD's each month. I know this.
But I'm trying for the Imp next month...really and truly going for it, and so of course the paranoia kicked in. Do I *really* have it? Am I 100% sure? The inner voice starts whispering, and I start getting less confident, and then the inner voice starts telling me I better make *sure* and how to do that. This would be an excellent plan, except for one thing.
My inner voice is, I think, the reincarnation of Lucille frickin' Ball.
"I'm just gonna test the whole 'fertile week' this month!" says I. "I'm going to freakin' *watch* the positive OPK appear, day by day."
So, I go and buy three boxes of the Answer-brand OPK's (the seven days, not the twenty). And I pee on those suckers three times a day, starting four days before I'm due to O.
Thing is, I don't produce that much pee, usually. My solution? I start drinking a crapload of water...and not just any water. No, not tap water for this Elf. CVS was having a sale on SmartWater, which I quite like.
So I'm drinking water that has been filled with electrolytes and heaven-knows-what-else.
*double sigh*
So, 'round about the third day of doing this, I'm literally raising the glass to my lips when it kinda dawns on me...
LH surge is detected by concentration of LH in my pee. Drinking lots of water dilutes the pee. As well as any hormones that are in the pee.
And I'm working myself into a tizzy because the reliable fade-in has not been reliable this month.
And then I'm like: Damn. It. All.
*triple sigh*
So, I didn't get my positive OPK this month...I *think* I caught the tail-end of the surge after I abandoned the drinking like a fish routine, 'cause I got one test that was sooooooo close to positive I literally had to sit and look at it in, like, three different sets of light to decide...but no, not quite. The next tests were of decidedly fade-*out* nature, and corresponded perfectly with the appearance of EWCM and O cramps, so like I said, tail end. Couldn't temp this month, 'cause my sleeping habits have been all messed up getting onto a summer schedule, and I'm sleeping in three different houses depending on what night of the week it is...with three different ideas of acceptable air conditioning...it's just not worth it to try to adjust.
Notes to Self:
1. Clear Blue Easy Digital OPK's are a must next month.
2. Normal drinking habits only.
3. Test between 11'ish and 8'ish only.
*nods*
Welcome to the crazy world of ttc, eh? Still, if this is the craziest it gets, I shall count myself very, very lucky. I can't wait 'til I try my first self-insem...should be one for the history books. I'm seeing a bit of furtively trying to wash the sheets in my mother's house combined with a little something plastic getting caught somewhere unfortunate.
Speaking of plastic things getting caught in unfortunate places...where do you ladies get your oral syringes? 'Cause WalMart, purveyer of all things needful (and/or stamped with the John Deere logo) didn't have any, CVS didn't have any...well, yeah, they had one, but I'll be damned if I shove that sucker up my ladybits! I don't even own a vibe that big around!
Ahem.
Seriously...where does one get them? Vet's office? Doctor? Can you just go into a doctor's office and ask for a little oral syringe?
In case you hadn't noticed...I'm going just a bit neurotic here. It's just, I'm actually going to DO this. I've been wanting this for almost five years...and I decided that this summer would be the try-date a full year and a half ago. Almost five years just waiting to *try* for my Imp. It's a little overwhelming to actually be *doing*. And yes, realistically, I know there's not a whole lot of chance of this taking the first time out of the gate. It does happen, but that's the exception, not the rule. And I can wait, I really can. I just don't *want* to, you know?
I'm also going to be doing this completely by myself. Not the mothering bit...I mean, yeah, duh, SMBC here...of course I'm gonna be doing it by myself. But I mean the actual insemination. I've decided not to tell everyone when I'm doing it and if I DO happen to get pregnant, to keep it to myself until at least Thanksgiving.
Well, not the ladies on the boards.
But the thing is, I also know that a large number of pregnancies end up in miscarriage. That's why so many women can go for weeks and not know they're pregnant. It just shows up as a late period. I think I could handle it if I lost a baby early on. I *don't* think I could handle my entire family knowing about it. I don't like pity, and I don't like people trying to awkwardly pat my hand and tell me it'll be okay.
And, if I do get pregnant and it sticks...no, WHEN I get pregnant and it sticks...I'll have those few weeks when it's literally my own special secret. Me and the Imp, totally just the two of us. I like that.
So, if all goes well...I'm trying in about four or five weeks. I'll order the swimmers to arrive at the end of the third week (lots of welding places around here I can get liquid nitrogen, and I don't mind to pay a fee to keep the suckers here and handy for the instant I need 'em). Heh, I'll be testing in Africa...I also feel positive energy in that. Being on the greatest adventure of my life and discovering whether or not I'm about to embark on an even greater one.
Plus which, I TOTALLY want to announce my pregnancy to the family by showing them a slideshow/video of my Africa trip that ends with a shot of me on Tabletop Mountain or something, with a total Mastercard caption: "Trip to Africa: $10,000 grant; Bug Spray and Supplies: $100; Telling You There's Two of Us In This Picture: Priceless!"
Seriously, how cool would that be?
Things Elfgirl is looking forward to: July insem! C'mon, Imp, Mommy's waiting!
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: my sister's dog. Housebreak the darn thing already!
Pretty Boy of the Moment: James Roday. Word.
Jun 14, 2008
When Elves Dream
Heyas,
When I was twelve, I had a dream that I lived in two houses and my mother's family would only visit one house, and my father's family would only visit the other house. Less than two months later, my folks announced they were splitting up.
When I was 22, I had a dream that I was standing next to my car, on the driver's side. All of a sudden, my vision zoomed in on the driver's side window (like a camera had suddenly gone super-close-up) and I woke up just as the glass shattered. That weekend, my car was broken into via someone wrapping their hand in a paper towel and punching in the driver's side window.
Fortunately, I only had fifty-two cents in pennies in the cupholder. Serves ya' right, ya' jackass!
Ahem.
A couple of months ago, I dreamed I had a meeting with my boss, and I was really scared and upset during the meeting, but my grandmother (who passed away this winter) was sitting beside me and holding my hand, and she wasn't worried. A couple of weeks ago, I got into big time trouble with my boss, but it was eventually sorted out that I hadn't done anything wrong and the trouble was withdrawn.
Why am I rambling on about this stuff? I'm sure everyone has those eerie moments of premonition...mostly, it's just our subconscious putting clues together before our conscious mind does, but my dreams tend to come true with a rather startling frequency. The above examples are merely the least strange. But there's a long history of such in my family. My great-grandmother was pretty powerful in some ways...mom swears that great-grandma could see spirits. All of the women in my family have a touch of something like that. My mother and sister are frighteningly intuitive in addition to having the same kinds of dreams I do. Other stuff goes on with us (no, I don't see dead people, but sometimes I think I hear them) but the dreams are the big one.
Now, I don't insist that anyone else believe in that sort of stuff. It is enough for me that I believe it, and I respect others' right not to. But as I approach my first attempt to conceive my Imp, I've found a lot of comfort in what I feel are signs that the universe is in agreement with me that the Imp needs to be with me soon.
Of the brushes I've had with whatever else is out there that my family is so in tune with, my favorite was a dream I had a while back. It started out innocuously enough, with me just sitting at a table somewhere. I had a card in front of me, and in the dream I just knew that the card was from my grandmother. She wasn't at the table with me, but it felt like I had just been talking to her. So, I opened the card, and it turned out to be a Mother's Day card to me from my grandmother. In it was a beautiful message of encouragement...the words escaped me as soon as I woke up, but I remember just sitting at the table sobbing, and feeling such love and support from my grandma. I DO remember, though, at the bottom was a hand-written note that just said, "Pick a good one!" Confusing, no? Except the next day, as I was reading through donor profiles for the hundredth time, I found myself drawn to one that I had previously dismissed, and he became the donor I ordered.
But the dream didn't end there. In that wonderful, abrupt way of dreams, the table disappeared, and I was standing in a store, messing with a computer screen. It took me a moment, but eventually, I realized that I was entering things in an online baby registry and more than that, in the dream, I was pregnant. Not showing or anything, but I knew that I was carrying my Imp inside me, and that it was July (in that odd way where you just KNOW things in your dreams)
Incidentally, Tammy, if you're reading this, this is the dream I told you about on your blog. FWIW, you came up behind me and we started talking, and I remember being so happy that you were finally having your baby. It struck me as odd that you would be in the dream, because at the time, I hadn't really conversed with you at all on the boards, though I'd been a great admirer of the support you so unselfishly gave others. Now, however, I think it was a sign that this summer is it for you...or so I'm really, really hoping. :)
Now, all of this can certainly be explained away with psychology. I won't dispute that. It's wish-fulfillment, and my subconscious working through my regret that my grandmother will never know my baby, and maybe a little bit of my subconscious assuring me that, yes, I am ready for the Imp.
I don't think so, though. Not with what my mother raised me to believe, and not with what I have experienced for myself. And I have no reason for writing this, except it feels good to share positive energy, and as I'm a horrible record-keeper otherwise, I want to keep this stuff as something to remember.
Imp, my love, I'm trying for you for the first time in exactly one month (well, give or take a few days!). I hope I'm interpreting right and you're just as eager to meet me as I am to meet you. I promise I'll be patient and try not to be too hurt if you can't come right away...I know we'll be together no matter how long it takes. You'll forgive Mommy, though, for being a bit hopeful that you hooked up with your great-Grandma out there in the Beyond and asked her to send me a few messages that you're on your way.
When I was twelve, I had a dream that I lived in two houses and my mother's family would only visit one house, and my father's family would only visit the other house. Less than two months later, my folks announced they were splitting up.
When I was 22, I had a dream that I was standing next to my car, on the driver's side. All of a sudden, my vision zoomed in on the driver's side window (like a camera had suddenly gone super-close-up) and I woke up just as the glass shattered. That weekend, my car was broken into via someone wrapping their hand in a paper towel and punching in the driver's side window.
Fortunately, I only had fifty-two cents in pennies in the cupholder. Serves ya' right, ya' jackass!
Ahem.
A couple of months ago, I dreamed I had a meeting with my boss, and I was really scared and upset during the meeting, but my grandmother (who passed away this winter) was sitting beside me and holding my hand, and she wasn't worried. A couple of weeks ago, I got into big time trouble with my boss, but it was eventually sorted out that I hadn't done anything wrong and the trouble was withdrawn.
Why am I rambling on about this stuff? I'm sure everyone has those eerie moments of premonition...mostly, it's just our subconscious putting clues together before our conscious mind does, but my dreams tend to come true with a rather startling frequency. The above examples are merely the least strange. But there's a long history of such in my family. My great-grandmother was pretty powerful in some ways...mom swears that great-grandma could see spirits. All of the women in my family have a touch of something like that. My mother and sister are frighteningly intuitive in addition to having the same kinds of dreams I do. Other stuff goes on with us (no, I don't see dead people, but sometimes I think I hear them) but the dreams are the big one.
Now, I don't insist that anyone else believe in that sort of stuff. It is enough for me that I believe it, and I respect others' right not to. But as I approach my first attempt to conceive my Imp, I've found a lot of comfort in what I feel are signs that the universe is in agreement with me that the Imp needs to be with me soon.
Of the brushes I've had with whatever else is out there that my family is so in tune with, my favorite was a dream I had a while back. It started out innocuously enough, with me just sitting at a table somewhere. I had a card in front of me, and in the dream I just knew that the card was from my grandmother. She wasn't at the table with me, but it felt like I had just been talking to her. So, I opened the card, and it turned out to be a Mother's Day card to me from my grandmother. In it was a beautiful message of encouragement...the words escaped me as soon as I woke up, but I remember just sitting at the table sobbing, and feeling such love and support from my grandma. I DO remember, though, at the bottom was a hand-written note that just said, "Pick a good one!" Confusing, no? Except the next day, as I was reading through donor profiles for the hundredth time, I found myself drawn to one that I had previously dismissed, and he became the donor I ordered.
But the dream didn't end there. In that wonderful, abrupt way of dreams, the table disappeared, and I was standing in a store, messing with a computer screen. It took me a moment, but eventually, I realized that I was entering things in an online baby registry and more than that, in the dream, I was pregnant. Not showing or anything, but I knew that I was carrying my Imp inside me, and that it was July (in that odd way where you just KNOW things in your dreams)
Incidentally, Tammy, if you're reading this, this is the dream I told you about on your blog. FWIW, you came up behind me and we started talking, and I remember being so happy that you were finally having your baby. It struck me as odd that you would be in the dream, because at the time, I hadn't really conversed with you at all on the boards, though I'd been a great admirer of the support you so unselfishly gave others. Now, however, I think it was a sign that this summer is it for you...or so I'm really, really hoping. :)
Now, all of this can certainly be explained away with psychology. I won't dispute that. It's wish-fulfillment, and my subconscious working through my regret that my grandmother will never know my baby, and maybe a little bit of my subconscious assuring me that, yes, I am ready for the Imp.
I don't think so, though. Not with what my mother raised me to believe, and not with what I have experienced for myself. And I have no reason for writing this, except it feels good to share positive energy, and as I'm a horrible record-keeper otherwise, I want to keep this stuff as something to remember.
Imp, my love, I'm trying for you for the first time in exactly one month (well, give or take a few days!). I hope I'm interpreting right and you're just as eager to meet me as I am to meet you. I promise I'll be patient and try not to be too hurt if you can't come right away...I know we'll be together no matter how long it takes. You'll forgive Mommy, though, for being a bit hopeful that you hooked up with your great-Grandma out there in the Beyond and asked her to send me a few messages that you're on your way.
Jun 9, 2008
Spell That Again Please?
Heyas,
Yeah. So. I have this theory. And work with me here, 'cause it's just a theory...but anyway, my theory is that WalMart is actually an interdimensional gate to the ninth circle of Hell. No, no, hear me out on this. Think about it. Does anyone ever look happy to be in WalMart? Sure, they've got low, low prices, but seriously, look at the people around you next time you're there. Everyone looks pissed off. Or tired. Or both.
Even the greeters look like they can't be bothered, most of the time. And think about the parking lot. Does anyone ever have a good time in a WalMart parking lot? No! Because everyone's jockeying for the same three spaces at the front of the store and everyone else is agry because they couldn't get those three spaces and so have to trek over miles and miles of hot asphalt to be half-heartedly waved into a place where everyone already looks irritated or exhausted. It's full of screaming kids, and harried parents, and bored-looking cashiers, and "sales associates" that really and truly always seem to be just coming off a cigarette break or going on a cigarette break.
So. Hell.
But yeah, can't really argue with the prices.
Oh my darling Imp, the things I am already doing for you.
I got my confirmation email that the Imp's stroller has come in and can now be picked up at the store. You know...the one I got such a great deal on? The one registered to "Elfgirl Sebastian"? So it's hear and available, and I probably should wait another day to go get it because it's already six o' clock by the time the email comes through and it's been a loooooooooong day (okay, seriously, people...103 degree heat plus outdoor "funday" activities for middle-schoolers plus no shade or water stations equals HEATSTROKE!!!! You want me to take my kids OUTSIDE all morning? Are you INSANE?!?!?!?! Thanks for listening to that, I feel better now).
But I'm not a particularly patient person these days, especially when there are goodies involved. So I throw myself in my car and trundle up to the ninth circle of Hell...er, WalMart, browse around a bit (and okay, get a cute little sleeper to add to the clothes collection...it was Tigger! I was weak!), and finally head back to the 'site-to-store' pickup area (formerly known as the layaway area, back when WalMart still did layaway...huh, does anyone do layaway anymore?)
And it's deserted.
"Huh," I think to myself, spying a large sign over a white, doorbell style button on the wall proclaiming: "Please Push Hear For Assistance"
No. That wasn't a typo. *sigh*
But whatever, I push.
And wait.
And wait.
And wait.
And finally notice another, much smaller sign beside one of the little keypads where you can swipe your debit card and enter your PIN, proclaiming: "Need assistance? Touch this screen!"
Well, at least it's spelled right. So, yay, I touch the screen and am informed that an associate is being notified.
And wait.
And wait.
And wait.
And finally "Associate notified. Someone will be with you shortly!"
Well...someone was not with me shortly. Another five minutes go by, and no one appears. Keep in mind, all during this time there are salespeople going in and out of the doors behind the counter. Not a single one of them so much as looks in my direction. And at this point, I'm getting irritated, but stubbornly reminding myself that I worked in retail once and I understand how it is. Yes, yes, I know, they're getting paid to be helpful, but sometimes...the customer really can shove it where the sun don't shine.
I press the screen again. And am again informed that someone is being notified.
At this point, some woman drags her daughter in to go to the bathroom (and I mean that literally...the girl--eh, three, maybe four--is full out on the floor being dragged by one hand, kicking, screaming, crying, and shrieking about how she wants to look at toys, and Mom is promising over and over that as soon as Mommy goes to the bathroom, they'll go look at toys...and I'm sorry, but if I'd thrown a tantrum like that in a public place, my mother would have been dragging my ass OUT of the store, promising over and over again that as soon as we got to the car she would GIVE me something to cry about. Consequently? I only behaved like that in public, like, twice.)
By now, something like fifteen minutes has passed, I've been informed twice by the WalMart version of HAL that someone is "on the way" and I'm pretty sure my ears are bleeding from the sheer volume of the kid's screaming. So finally, I snag one of the endless stream of employees going in and out of the doors to the "backroom" and I'm all, "Is someone on duty, please? I've been here for going on fifteen minutes and your screen has told me twice that someone is going to be with me shortly."
And I kid you not, the lady looks at me and goes: "Oh, I'm sorry! I thought you were waiting for the bathroom!"
Yes. I was waiting for the bathroom.
In the room with absolutely no line for the bathroom.
On the other SIDE of said room from the bathroom.
Practically sitting on the counter of the site-to-store pickup, periodically trying to get HAL to help me by pressing his screen.
God, I hate WalMart.
So anyway, she comes over and boots her little computer up, and is all, "how can I help you?"
"I'm here to pick up an order for @#(*@)$(@^%(#*$." (for the record, no I wasn't cursing...I just tried to use my real name to get the order first, as I was on the pickup slip under my real name, and I really wanted to avoid what happened next.)
"I'm sorry, there's no record of that name."
"Oh...well, the order was placed under the name Sebastian."
"Spell that?"
"Sebastian...s-e-b-a-s-t-"
"Wait, s-e-b-what?"
"A-s-t-i-"
"Say that again?"
"Sebastian....S-E-B-A-S-T-I-A-N."
"Huh...I'm sorry, no record...what was the first name?"
"Uh...Elfgirl."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Elfgirl."
*blank look*
"E-L-F-G-I-R-L."
"You...you sure that's the name?"
"Yup."
"Can you spell that again, please?"
"Elf. Girl. E-l-f, g-i-r-l."
"Are you SURE that's the name?"
"Uh, her parents were hippies."
Best part? They couldn't find that name either and had to track me through my phone number. Morons. Didn't even ask me for my freakin' ID...good thing I wasn't somebody who just happened to be reading over someone's shoulder when the email came through, now isn't it?
Yeesh.
But it's worth it, Imp. I have your stroller and your infant car seat all assembled (minimum of swearing...like, only one or two f-bombs throughout the whole process!) and just waiting for you to take your first ride. If all goes according to plan, you'll be in my arms in less than a year (yes, choosing to be optimistic. Sue me.)...can't wait, love.
Things Elfgirl is looking forward to: going HOME this weekend, for a whole month. And after that...AFRICA!
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: WalMart. Obviously.
Pretty boy of the moment: Zachary Quinto. You better not suck as Spock, there, Sylar. Just sayin'.
Yeah. So. I have this theory. And work with me here, 'cause it's just a theory...but anyway, my theory is that WalMart is actually an interdimensional gate to the ninth circle of Hell. No, no, hear me out on this. Think about it. Does anyone ever look happy to be in WalMart? Sure, they've got low, low prices, but seriously, look at the people around you next time you're there. Everyone looks pissed off. Or tired. Or both.
Even the greeters look like they can't be bothered, most of the time. And think about the parking lot. Does anyone ever have a good time in a WalMart parking lot? No! Because everyone's jockeying for the same three spaces at the front of the store and everyone else is agry because they couldn't get those three spaces and so have to trek over miles and miles of hot asphalt to be half-heartedly waved into a place where everyone already looks irritated or exhausted. It's full of screaming kids, and harried parents, and bored-looking cashiers, and "sales associates" that really and truly always seem to be just coming off a cigarette break or going on a cigarette break.
So. Hell.
But yeah, can't really argue with the prices.
Oh my darling Imp, the things I am already doing for you.
I got my confirmation email that the Imp's stroller has come in and can now be picked up at the store. You know...the one I got such a great deal on? The one registered to "Elfgirl Sebastian"? So it's hear and available, and I probably should wait another day to go get it because it's already six o' clock by the time the email comes through and it's been a loooooooooong day (okay, seriously, people...103 degree heat plus outdoor "funday" activities for middle-schoolers plus no shade or water stations equals HEATSTROKE!!!! You want me to take my kids OUTSIDE all morning? Are you INSANE?!?!?!?! Thanks for listening to that, I feel better now).
But I'm not a particularly patient person these days, especially when there are goodies involved. So I throw myself in my car and trundle up to the ninth circle of Hell...er, WalMart, browse around a bit (and okay, get a cute little sleeper to add to the clothes collection...it was Tigger! I was weak!), and finally head back to the 'site-to-store' pickup area (formerly known as the layaway area, back when WalMart still did layaway...huh, does anyone do layaway anymore?)
And it's deserted.
"Huh," I think to myself, spying a large sign over a white, doorbell style button on the wall proclaiming: "Please Push Hear For Assistance"
No. That wasn't a typo. *sigh*
But whatever, I push.
And wait.
And wait.
And wait.
And finally notice another, much smaller sign beside one of the little keypads where you can swipe your debit card and enter your PIN, proclaiming: "Need assistance? Touch this screen!"
Well, at least it's spelled right. So, yay, I touch the screen and am informed that an associate is being notified.
And wait.
And wait.
And wait.
And finally "Associate notified. Someone will be with you shortly!"
Well...someone was not with me shortly. Another five minutes go by, and no one appears. Keep in mind, all during this time there are salespeople going in and out of the doors behind the counter. Not a single one of them so much as looks in my direction. And at this point, I'm getting irritated, but stubbornly reminding myself that I worked in retail once and I understand how it is. Yes, yes, I know, they're getting paid to be helpful, but sometimes...the customer really can shove it where the sun don't shine.
I press the screen again. And am again informed that someone is being notified.
At this point, some woman drags her daughter in to go to the bathroom (and I mean that literally...the girl--eh, three, maybe four--is full out on the floor being dragged by one hand, kicking, screaming, crying, and shrieking about how she wants to look at toys, and Mom is promising over and over that as soon as Mommy goes to the bathroom, they'll go look at toys...and I'm sorry, but if I'd thrown a tantrum like that in a public place, my mother would have been dragging my ass OUT of the store, promising over and over again that as soon as we got to the car she would GIVE me something to cry about. Consequently? I only behaved like that in public, like, twice.)
By now, something like fifteen minutes has passed, I've been informed twice by the WalMart version of HAL that someone is "on the way" and I'm pretty sure my ears are bleeding from the sheer volume of the kid's screaming. So finally, I snag one of the endless stream of employees going in and out of the doors to the "backroom" and I'm all, "Is someone on duty, please? I've been here for going on fifteen minutes and your screen has told me twice that someone is going to be with me shortly."
And I kid you not, the lady looks at me and goes: "Oh, I'm sorry! I thought you were waiting for the bathroom!"
Yes. I was waiting for the bathroom.
In the room with absolutely no line for the bathroom.
On the other SIDE of said room from the bathroom.
Practically sitting on the counter of the site-to-store pickup, periodically trying to get HAL to help me by pressing his screen.
God, I hate WalMart.
So anyway, she comes over and boots her little computer up, and is all, "how can I help you?"
"I'm here to pick up an order for @#(*@)$(@^%(#*$." (for the record, no I wasn't cursing...I just tried to use my real name to get the order first, as I was on the pickup slip under my real name, and I really wanted to avoid what happened next.)
"I'm sorry, there's no record of that name."
"Oh...well, the order was placed under the name Sebastian."
"Spell that?"
"Sebastian...s-e-b-a-s-t-"
"Wait, s-e-b-what?"
"A-s-t-i-"
"Say that again?"
"Sebastian....S-E-B-A-S-T-I-A-N."
"Huh...I'm sorry, no record...what was the first name?"
"Uh...Elfgirl."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Elfgirl."
*blank look*
"E-L-F-G-I-R-L."
"You...you sure that's the name?"
"Yup."
"Can you spell that again, please?"
"Elf. Girl. E-l-f, g-i-r-l."
"Are you SURE that's the name?"
"Uh, her parents were hippies."
Best part? They couldn't find that name either and had to track me through my phone number. Morons. Didn't even ask me for my freakin' ID...good thing I wasn't somebody who just happened to be reading over someone's shoulder when the email came through, now isn't it?
Yeesh.
But it's worth it, Imp. I have your stroller and your infant car seat all assembled (minimum of swearing...like, only one or two f-bombs throughout the whole process!) and just waiting for you to take your first ride. If all goes according to plan, you'll be in my arms in less than a year (yes, choosing to be optimistic. Sue me.)...can't wait, love.
Things Elfgirl is looking forward to: going HOME this weekend, for a whole month. And after that...AFRICA!
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: WalMart. Obviously.
Pretty boy of the moment: Zachary Quinto. You better not suck as Spock, there, Sylar. Just sayin'.
Jun 1, 2008
I Didn't Think This Through Too Well
Heyas,
Sometimes, my friends, I'm just too clever for my own good.
Okay, so, as I've said in other posts, once a month or so I run opposite to character and let my overly optimistic side (known as Miss-Suzy-Cream-Cheese) come out to play, and make some purchases for my Imp. A few onesies here, some burp cloths there, a baby bjorn from ebay, a diaper bag...eh, basically I want to call all my relatives and friends before my baby shower and be like "I want diapers and wipes. That's it. No booties, no blankies, no binkies. Diapers. Wipes."
Of course, they will purchase ridiculously cute items anyway, but they'll also get me diapers and wipes 'cause that'll be the only thing I ask for. Thus, my Imp will make out like a bandit.
Yes, I'm being incredibly Machiavellian...but don't worry! It's a sign of affection in my family.
Aaaaaannnnnyyyways...several months ago, when I first laid out this summer as my concrete date for ttc, I went ahead and made a list of all the gear that I thought I would need for the Imp. Then I remembered that I suck at keeping lists. I mean, I can write them down and everything...but I keep losing them. Sooo, I got the brilliant idea to create a baby registry online! Hey, easy visual reference for me, quick price comparison, and I can just remove and add items when I buy them or as other stuff strikes my fancy. Easy and brilliant, right?
Well.
As it turns out, the baby registry wants all my info...name, address, due date, yadda-yadda. Okay, s'cool...only thing is, I have a REALLY distinct last name. Like, seriously, every person in the country who has this last name spelled the way we do is an immediate relative. And, as it turned out, my stepsister was pregnant at the time and my stepmother had created a separate registry under HER name for "surprise gifts." So, there's already a registry with my last name on it and I hadn't told any of my family about my plans yet, and certainly didn't want to be "outed" by any of my stepsister's friends or any of my relatives looking to buy her something, so I made up a fake name on the spot.
Er...only I used my Internet name and my favorite boy name to register. Sooooo, Elfgirl Sebastian is registered at Walmart.
Fast forward a few months and I'm browsing around ebay and I find the cutest stroller/carseat ever. I love it! It's got unique colors and lots of storage, and it's not overly hyped, and it's well reviewed. Only, it's like, 200 dollars on ebay, plus shipping (and I hate getting into bidding wars). So I cruise over to Walmart.com to see if I can find it cheaper (or at least get confirmation that 200 dollars is a fair price for it) and lo and behold I can get it at Walmart for 130. And free site-to-store shipping. Woohoo! Imp, my love, you have a stroller!
So, I order it and pay for it, and get my little confirmation email:
"Thank you for your order, Elfgirl Sebastian. You will receive an email when your item is ready to be picked up. Please have at least one form of picture ID with you when claiming your item."
D'oh!
Now, I have ID that identifies me as Elfgirl...but I don't think they'll accept a DragonCon ID badge as proper identification, y'know?
Fortunately, they have an option where I can add someone else to be allowed to pick up my purchase, so I was able to put my real name down. But still....
Somewhere, in some Walmart warehouse, there is someone having a serious "WTF?" moment.
Things Elfgirl is looking forward to: SUMMER!!!!!
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: The fact that tomorrow is Monday.
Pretty boy of the moment: Orlando Bloom. *sigh* I'd have waited ten years for him, too :)
Sometimes, my friends, I'm just too clever for my own good.
Okay, so, as I've said in other posts, once a month or so I run opposite to character and let my overly optimistic side (known as Miss-Suzy-Cream-Cheese) come out to play, and make some purchases for my Imp. A few onesies here, some burp cloths there, a baby bjorn from ebay, a diaper bag...eh, basically I want to call all my relatives and friends before my baby shower and be like "I want diapers and wipes. That's it. No booties, no blankies, no binkies. Diapers. Wipes."
Of course, they will purchase ridiculously cute items anyway, but they'll also get me diapers and wipes 'cause that'll be the only thing I ask for. Thus, my Imp will make out like a bandit.
Yes, I'm being incredibly Machiavellian...but don't worry! It's a sign of affection in my family.
Aaaaaannnnnyyyways...several months ago, when I first laid out this summer as my concrete date for ttc, I went ahead and made a list of all the gear that I thought I would need for the Imp. Then I remembered that I suck at keeping lists. I mean, I can write them down and everything...but I keep losing them. Sooo, I got the brilliant idea to create a baby registry online! Hey, easy visual reference for me, quick price comparison, and I can just remove and add items when I buy them or as other stuff strikes my fancy. Easy and brilliant, right?
Well.
As it turns out, the baby registry wants all my info...name, address, due date, yadda-yadda. Okay, s'cool...only thing is, I have a REALLY distinct last name. Like, seriously, every person in the country who has this last name spelled the way we do is an immediate relative. And, as it turned out, my stepsister was pregnant at the time and my stepmother had created a separate registry under HER name for "surprise gifts." So, there's already a registry with my last name on it and I hadn't told any of my family about my plans yet, and certainly didn't want to be "outed" by any of my stepsister's friends or any of my relatives looking to buy her something, so I made up a fake name on the spot.
Er...only I used my Internet name and my favorite boy name to register. Sooooo, Elfgirl Sebastian is registered at Walmart.
Fast forward a few months and I'm browsing around ebay and I find the cutest stroller/carseat ever. I love it! It's got unique colors and lots of storage, and it's not overly hyped, and it's well reviewed. Only, it's like, 200 dollars on ebay, plus shipping (and I hate getting into bidding wars). So I cruise over to Walmart.com to see if I can find it cheaper (or at least get confirmation that 200 dollars is a fair price for it) and lo and behold I can get it at Walmart for 130. And free site-to-store shipping. Woohoo! Imp, my love, you have a stroller!
So, I order it and pay for it, and get my little confirmation email:
"Thank you for your order, Elfgirl Sebastian. You will receive an email when your item is ready to be picked up. Please have at least one form of picture ID with you when claiming your item."
D'oh!
Now, I have ID that identifies me as Elfgirl...but I don't think they'll accept a DragonCon ID badge as proper identification, y'know?
Fortunately, they have an option where I can add someone else to be allowed to pick up my purchase, so I was able to put my real name down. But still....
Somewhere, in some Walmart warehouse, there is someone having a serious "WTF?" moment.
Things Elfgirl is looking forward to: SUMMER!!!!!
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: The fact that tomorrow is Monday.
Pretty boy of the moment: Orlando Bloom. *sigh* I'd have waited ten years for him, too :)
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