Deep breaths, Elf, deep breaths

I have a 32 to 33 day cycle.

I ovulate on CD 20...sometimes CD 21.

I do NOT ovulate on CD 16.

I have NEVER ovulated before CD 19.

Murphy's Law being a bitch is NOT grounds to assume this will change just for this cycle.

Cervical mucus that is sticky, damp, and cloudy/yellowish is the stuff you get BEFORE the good stuff.

Every month.

If you jump the gun on this, you will be kicking yourself for months.

I know this. I know this. I know this.

I am NOT going to have a nervous breakdown this close to the finish line.

That is all.

I Wonder If Couples Drive Themselves This Crazy...

Heyas,

So, I'm sitting in my half-packed apartment right now, idly surfing the 'net and pretending that my gaze isn't really riveted on the windows facing the street, where Mr. FedEx man is due to pull up today and bring me the Imp's Pop-sicle.

Heh, get it? Popsicle?

Anyway, so I'm sitting here, and just reflecting on everything that's brought me to this chapter in my life...the precipice, the point of no return. All the agonizing, the decision-making, the soul searching...that little flutter of anticipation, the irresistable tug of the smile that breaks out every time I touch something I've bought for the Imp. The late-night fears and doubts that creep in and set my heart hammering; the stab of emotion when I imagine holding the Imp in my arms--it all comes down to this. The first (and last, okay Imp?) attempt to bring my baby into this world. This time next month, I could be going to a doctor's appointment to hear the Imp's heartbeat for the first time. It's amazing to me.

All the things I've done, and thought, and felt over the past year, all coming to a head. I'm going to look back on this someday and laugh myself silly, I know I am. All the hyper-awareness of every twinge, cramp, and temperature shift. Contemplating the contents of a toilet tissue as though the secrets of the universe will be revealed if only I can decide if that is egg-white, or just watery mucus. Frantically crossing my legs in an attempt to hold off the bathroom break for one more half hour 'cause I get my clearest hormone readings after eleven in the morning. Trying not to get ahead of myself, knowing I'm setting myself up for disappointment, but somehow unable to stop the most optimistic hopes from forming. Ridiculously sitcom-like adventures in WalMart.

And that's not even counting the sheer amount of introspection, meditation, and assessment that has gone into even beginning to attempt this. I know I haven't had the heartache and frustration that I know many people have gone through on this path...but though my roads may have been different, in many ways they've been just as rough. Doing this as a single woman was a harder decision than any I've ever had to make, however flippant I may be about the lack of a Mr. Elf.

And now that I'm finally, FINALLY, hitting the last phase of this experience (however long it takes me to get to actual motherhood), it's just incredible to contemplate how far I've come and how much farther I have to go.

You're worth it to me, though, Imp. Worth all this and a thousand times more. I'm waiting for you with open arms and all the love in my heart.

Here.

We.

Go.

I think they heard me three states away....

Heyas,

All right...for those of you who are about to be grossed out and horrified and thinking "my God, she wants to have a CHILD?!" --let me preface this by saying that nothing of this sort has ever happened to me before and will never happen again. Just bad luck, really.

But oh God, I'm on my third bottle of bleach and it still doesn't feel clean!

Got your interest, don't I?

So...I live a couple states over from most of my family, and during the summers I go home to teach at a local university, and see everyone for a few weeks. Fun, right? Okay, thing is, I'm about the most unorganized person on the face of the planet...like serious "Absent Minded Professor" territory. It's a bit of a handicap, but I can usually function. Just...some details get lost, okay?

Any road, so I was really proud of myself as I was packing this year. I remembered my cell phone charger, and my dress shoes for my teaching job, and a few bills I needed to mail before I left. Except one.

The electric bill.

Anyone guessed where I'm going with this yet?

So, I had to head back to my apartment yesterday, and don't get in until around midnight (fuckin' traffic). I haul all my crap up the ridiculously steep stairs that lead to my apartment, wrestle the door open, and hit the switch to turn on my hall light....

And nothing happens.

Oh. Shit.

So, yeah, long story short, my electricity's been turned off.

In ninety-degree weather.

For a freakin' MONTH.

And the cherry on this sundae of stupid-forgetful-dumbassery on my part?

I didn't clear out my freezer before I left...or the 'fridge, except for the immediate perishables.

But you know what? Even not-so-immediate perishables perish in a warm 'fridge.

So, after a ridiculously hot and sweaty night (and not in the fun way) spent in my apartment because I refuse to shell out eighty bucks for a hotel room; and even though I had a pretty good idea of what I'd find, I opened said appliance this morning...

And screamed. Bloody. Murder.

I have NEVER smelled anything so foul in my life...rancid butter, molded Hoisin sauce, sour salad dressing...and sweet baby Jesus, the freezer...oh God, the freezer.

Rotted meat, rotted frozen vegetables, rotted fish...

And maggots.

Maggots. In MY house.

I don't even know how they got into the freezer. But holy crap, it was gross.

Needless to say, I've been frantically scrubbing the kitchen down for hours, now. Full-on hazmat gear...gloves, towel wrapped around the face, mountains of garbage bags. I've gone through two bottles of Clorox Cleanup and am working on the third...and I'm still not sure I'll be able to bring myself to put anything back in that 'fridge. *shudders*

Moral of the story...if you have a lot of things that need doing, and a lot on your mind...make a freakin' list!

Imp, honey, I promise...Mommy is NOT a dirty, disgusting slob. This is a TOTAL aberration.

How Sick Am I That I Thought This Was Hilarious....

Heyas,

So...went out with my sister, C, and her boyfriend/fiance (they're planning the wedding, just waiting for him to officially pop the question) to see Hellboy II, tonight. The movie? MADE of awesome, if anyone is asking. Much, much more fantasy-based than sci-fi/horror like the last one, but the effects were awesome, I love Ron Perlman (heh, I watched him in Beauty and the Beast when I was, like, five), and Hellboy and Liz have the sweetest relationship (won't put any spoilers for those who want to and haven't seen it yet).

Any road, we see the movie and afterwards, we decide to bring home pizza for dinner for my mom and her husband (yeah, messy divorce, both parents remarried, not fun). Conveniently, the pizza place is right next to the theater, so I go in, place the order, but the AC in the building seems to be out and it's FREAKIN' hot here right now, so this Elf, C, and A head two doors down to the little strip mall next to the pizza place with the intention of hitting the dollar store.

And we pass a sex shop on the way.

Now, c'mon people...sex shop, dollar store, sex shop, dollar store...which is going to be the more amusing place to spend twenty minutes?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

So, we go into the sex shop, drop our driver's licenses into the little basket at the checkout counter, wave hello to the ADORABLE baby in the pack n' play behind the counter where his mother (I guess) is working, pause a moment to appreciate just how difficult his future kindergarten teacher's job is going to be, and then peruse the wares.

And you know what we find?

Not just the usual array of bondage gear, tasteless gag gifts, vibes and dildos swollen to truly excruiating-looking proportions, and a rainbow of anal beads...no, we find "Tighten 'er" cream, guaranteed to make your vagina so tight, your partner will think you're a virgin! Right next to the "Anal-ease," enabling you to do it doggie-style in slippery soft comfort.

But that wasn't the best part. Oh no, not by a longshot.

In the back of the store, I found the most hilarious thing ever...the thing that literally had me whipping out my cellphone (alas, no camera, sorry) to call everyone on my call list just to share the absurdity!

I found a set of baby bottles. Real, plastic, baby bottles, with measurement markings, drop-in liners, everything.

With nipples that were shaped like anatomically correct penises.

Imp, I'm sorry, Mommy almost bought you one. It was too funny! Fortunately, I guess, Aunt C vetoed the idea. The conversation went something like this:

Elf: Dude! Scale of one to ten, how screwed up would my kid be if I bought this?

C: Uh, A LOT!

Elf: Oh, c'mon, it'd be hilarious!

C: Dude, no! I forbid you.

Elf: *pouts*

Yes, Imp, Mommy and her sisters address each other as "Dude" all the time. It doesn't matter that we're all girls. It's the standard greeting/identifier. You will understand someday.

So, I walked out of the sex shop without a penis bottle.

And my world was a little darker for it.

Other than that, not a whole lot going on. The car's ignition switch did indeed give up the ghost and I had to have it towed to my mechanic friend. Fortunately, AAA covered the towing fee so I didn't owe anything on that, and the repair is only going to be about 90 bucks. All in all, could've been much worse. I'm stuck driving my sister's car until I can get mine back (should be Wednesday or Thursday I guess), and her brakes suck, so I guess I gotta confine my driving as much as possible.

Heading back to NC on the 21st or 22nd, to get ready for Africa. Heh, get this...I will be returning with ten days to spare before I leave. In those ten days, I will be getting my classroom ready for the coming school year, inseminating, and moving in with my friend D. How's THAT for lots going on?

Shouldn't be too bad, though. Former Marine brat, here, so I've been moving every three years as long as I can remember. Consequently, that whole "moving is the most stressful thing you can do!" schtick has never made much sense to me...doesn't bother me much, and I've gotten to where I can literally break my whole house down and get it packed inside of two days. Plus which, I'm getting rid of most of my furniture (it was all "curbside discount, if you know what I'm sayin') besides the bed and the dresser, and D doesn't live too far away...easy as pie. ;)

Hear that Imp? D will officially have our backs the whole time I'm pregnant with you...so really, there's no reason to wait to come.

Oh, come ON, now you're just picking on me!!!!

Heyas,

There exists, somewhere in time and space, a man named Murphy. A rather jolly fellow, clever and wise in the ways of the universe and just how things work...one might even say the laws of the universe. I would like to find Mr. Murphy, walk with him a while, talk with him a while.

Then I would like to kick him in the balls.

So, I've got a job this summer at a local school...pretty decent money for pretty easy work, and I really enjoy the kids I work with. Ordinarily, I just put what I earn in the summers onto my credit card bills and save a few hundred out to just spoil myself with before I head back to the grindstone of a new school year. Only this time, I was gonna save my few hundred out and spend about half of it on my swimmers and the other half on a nice dinner out with my family, and maybe a swing for the Imp, 'cause I love shopping for the Imp, even if he/she isn't here yet.

And so, I leave my job today, go out to my car, shove the key in the ignition and...nothing. The key will not even freakin' turn. Now, the ignition switch in my car has always been a little finicky. It's probably needed replacing for about a year and a half now, but I've always been able to cajole it into working for me. Not this time. No, no amount of jiggling steering wheel, switching out the key, smacking, bouncing or other movement will get that key to turn. I even tried my grandpa's tried and true method of getting something to work: I pounded the dashboard with my fist and screamed: "C'mon, you son of a bitch!"

Didn't make the key work, but I felt better. Maybe THAT'S why Grandpa does it so much.

Any road, I'm not upset about getting the ignition switch replaced. It needs to be done, and my family has a mechanic friend we take all our problems to, and he gives us a really good deal...the entire bill for fixing the problem is going to be a hundred, a hundred and twenty five bucks, tops. Noooo, what pisses me off is my car couldn't wait 'til I was, oh, CLOSER to said mechanic friend to give up the ghost? Seriously...TOWING the car to this place is going to be the big expense. We have AAA, but it's a good half hour haul from where I am to where I need to be. Stupid, out of the way, rural towns.

I can afford it right now, but holy crap...seems like every time I get even a little bit ahead financially, something happens to suck it all right up. I'm never seriously DOWN money, but my expenses literally seem to grow and shrink depending on how much extra cash I have on hand. Very, very frustrating.

I'm going to try one more time today to get my car started...I'm hoping that if I let it sit for a while, maybe wait 'til it cools off here and the metal contracts a bit, whatever is out of joint will slip back into place long enough for me to drive the car to where it needs to be myself. I'd surely appreciate any crossed fingers/good vibes. *sigh*

Stupid car.

Like Choosing Between a Root Canal and a Colonoscopy

Hello,

So, as you may have noticed from the counter adorning the top right hand corner of your screen...I'm something of a liberal. Registered Democrat since the age of eighteen, veteran of protests, voter registration, etc, etc. I was really stoked this year when Clinton ran (I mean, hey, whatever your opinion of the Clintons as human beings, they know how to govern). And then I got less stoked.

Now let me say, this has nothing to do with race or gender. It's about damn time we had a woman or a person of color (or both!) in the White House. I'm just really, really not sure about Obama. I expect a certain amount of smoke and mirrors, flash-in-the-pan rhetoric...it's just part of the game. I find it extremely worrying, though, that this appears to be ALL Obama offers. Seriously...the man rarely, if ever, provides an actual *answer* to a question. Is he charismatic? Yes. Is he an excellent speaker? Hell, yes.

I just have serious reservations about voting for the man to be the leader of the free world. Just...doesn't seem to be a great deal of practical experience here. And I'd be okay with that if he seemed to make up for it in ability...but no, that seems to be kind of lacking, too.

On the other hand...McCain, though admittedly one of the few Republicans I'd actually seriously consider voting for, is surrounding himself with people that scare me, quite frankly. A McCain administration might have been an okay thing ten years ago...but now I fear we'd just get ANOTHER four years of the mess that the current administration has created. I don't like his stance on women's reproductive rights, gay rights, or the war in Iraq (though I like his stances on the environment and global warming).

Politics is always about choosing the person you think will screw up the country the least (or at least screw it up in ways you can deal with!), but this is worse than usual.

Sometimes I wish I lived in Canada.

In other news, yay, back on schedule for the Imp. Cramping like a motherfucker, but I have never been so happy to see red. I actually did a little victory dance in the bathroom stall this morning, pumped my fist in the air and went: "Yesssssss!" like I was still in freakin' middle school. I shudder to think what the person in the stall next to me thought I was doing.

Oh well.

So, the way this cycle is shaping up, it's looking like I'll be ordering the swim team to arrive on the 22nd, squirting them up the ladybits on the 27th, 28th, and 29th, boarding a plane for Africa on the 31st, and testing my second weekend in Africa. I'm seriously considering devoting some of my suitcase space to a box of Top Ramen packages and peanut butter and just make my own food over there...I really don't want to catch a stomach bug in Africa and get all excited thinking it's morning sickness. Or get morning sickness and have it mask something more serious picked up from the food and water.

I'm also kind of considering telling my program director that I have OCD so they won't be offended if I do weird stuff like skip the provided meals in favor of said Top Ramen.

I haven't decided just how strange this makes me.

Seriously, Imp, do you have any idea how cool Mommy's pregnancy announcement idea would be? Our family would FLIP...it'd be soooo hilarious, and I promise to take pictures of their faces. You will appreciate the entertainment value of this once you meet everyone...particularly your great-uncles, J and A. Oooooh, Imp, PLEASE come first try...you have NO idea how much I want to get Uncle J's goat like that.

Hell, PLEASE come first try 'cause I can't wait to hold you.

Going Ever So Slightly Insane

And that's a pretty short trip to begin with.

So July is here. Officially here. And you know who's officially three days off schedule? Yeah. The Crimson Fairy.

Bitch.

TMI alert, here, loves...you might wanna skip down a paragraph or two.

But seriously! I'm cramping like no one's business, my breasts are so sore that seatbelts are excrutiating if I don't sit it across my chest just right (and don't get me started on the bras...God, I wish I was small enough to go without) and I'm tired and irritable, and I JUST CAN'T BLEED!!!!

*whimper*

And okay, intellectually, I know that the human hormone system is more delicate than one might think. Excitement and stress of actually going for the Imp this month might have thrown me out of whack, I really want everything to go smooth, so Murphy's Law is probably laughing its ass off at me right now, and we've had some lovely family issues going on recently (seriously, it's a sad thing when you realize that you and your 25 year old sister are more mature and reasonable than all of your aunts and uncles...and let me say, money and property do very sad things to people.) and I KNOW that the schedule doesn't matter as long as I ovulate.

This might even work out well...as I'm now due to ovulate, like, three days before I leave for Africa...which would mean plenty of distraction during the TWW, and less time being pregnant in a foreign country when it takes. :) Did you notice the positive thinking there? Also, if it doesn't take, I'll have plenty to distract me and actually might be ovulating late enough in August that I'll be able to try again instead of waiting 'til September.

But it doesn't stop me from wanting to bang my head against a wall. Repeatedly.

Had a lovely Fourth, at least. Went out with my sisters, father, and uncle to see BOC (Blue Oyster Cult, for the uninitiated...they of "Don't Fear the Reaper" fame) and it freakin' ROCKED. Then stayed for the fireworks display in Columbus, which was even more awesome. All in all, a most successful evening.

But I think Food Network has spoiled me. How, you ask?

Well, we went out to Bd's for dinner...which is a great Mongolian Barbecue chain. Pretty awesome food. Any road, we got through our meal and then my sisters and I decided to splurge and get dessert. My sister's order this incredible looking caramel apple sundae, but I'm honestly not that fond of cooked fruit. So me? I go for the ice cream cookie sandwich.

And you know what they bring me?

A freakin' 99 cent ice cream cookie sandwich, still rock hard right out of the freezer and still in a freakin' plastic pouch!

Seriously...no chocolate sauce drizzle? No whipped cream? THAT'S the best you can do?

Maybe a bit elitist of me, but I sent it back. I mean, yeesh, I could have gotten THAT at a gas station. Not restaurant quality.

Yeah. Spoiled.