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4 Years, 500 (and One) Posts

18 Dec

Me: Hey! Hey you over there!

Me: Yeah, what? Oh crap. What are you doing here?

Me: Just thought I’d come by and say hello.

Me: Hello! Bye now!

Me: Aw come on don’t be like that!

Me: Look, I like you. Really I do. But I’m just not ready to restart our relationship.

Me: I saw some choice pee sticks at the pharmacy today. You know they’ve got ones that tell you how far along you are? I wanted to pee on them right then and there!

Me: Do you in any way think I find that story tempting? Besides, you know better than I do that beta levels aren’t really that indicative of the age of your pregnancy.

Me: So are you telling me the pee stick makers are LYING?

Me: Yes. It’s just a way to get more money out of women. Those tests are very inexact. You know the only way to actually date a pregnancy is –

Me: Do you want to talk about it? Let’s talk about betas!

Me: Oh hell no! This has already gone far enough, thankyouverymuch.

Me: Come on! Let’s play the pregnancy symptom scavenger hunt! Let’s pee on all the things!

Me: No. I’ve got Bunny and Shmerson and my career right now. That’s enough.

Me: Look how cute Bunny is! You know you want another one!

Me: Not now. I promise I’ll call you when I’m ready.

Me: You swear? This isn’t one of those things like when assholes say “let’s do lunch” and then never actually call back right?

Me: No, no. I’m sure there will be a day when I will call you and will once again get pulled back into your circle of crazy. But today is not that day.

Me: You swear you’ll call?

Me: Yep.


Me: Fine

Me: Ok. I’ll go away then. All by myself. Maybe I’ll find a bridge to live under where I can corner sad looking women and see if they’re infertile and want to pee on things with me. All alone in the world. No purpose. Just a feather on a breeze. A rolling stone. A lone wolf. A pee stick without a control line.


Me: Ok how about an ovulation test? A single tiny little thing. You’ll barely notice it. Come on, you know you want to.

Me: GO! NOW!

Me: Fine fine I’m going.


Today (well, technically it’s yesterday since it’s past midnight, but let’s not get into semantics) marks 4 years to the day since I started this blog. It’s also my 501st post. Funny enough, when I wrote my last post I didn’t even notice it was number 500. But I think it was worthy of the honor.

I’ve done more than enough reflecting on this blog. On anniversaries and due dates, birthdays and death days, milestones and moves.

So I won’t get mushy, there’s really no point. This space has seen enough mush.

Instead, I thought I’d say hello to an old friend, and then tuck her away again.

I’m sure she’ll emerge victorious again, some day.

Thank you all for reading.



It’s in the Stars. The Crazy Stars.

14 Aug

Me: ZOMG!!!!!!!

Me: Oh crap, what now?

Me: Our horoscope!

Me: You mean the Rob Bezsny one?

Me: So you read it!!!!

Me: Um, yeah, we’re the same person, remember?

Me: Right. So why aren’t you screaming like I am?

Me: Because I’m sane.

Me: Allow me to quote.

Me: Please don’t.

Me: Oh just watch me! According to Mr. Brezsny:

It’s quite possible, Libra, that you will benefit from a Hubble-like augmentation of your vision in the next nine months. Right from the beginning, make sure there are no significant defects in the fundamentals of your big expansion.

Right? Right?!?

Me: I don’t get it.

Me: Nine months! Expansion!

Me: Oh, you think this means we’re going to be pregnant this month.


Me:  This is the baby psychic all over again. *Rolls Eyes*

Me: No! This is better! He’s syndicated!

Me: It’s random. Do you think it means every Libra will get pregnant this month?

Me: No! Just us! We’re special.

Me: No we’re not.

Me: We’re going to get pregnant! La la la la la la!

Me: I’m going away now.

Me: Screw you. I’m going to enjoy this. YYYYYIIIIIPPPPPPPPEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!

Me: *Backs away slowly*

15th Verse, Pretty Much Same as the First

24 Jul


Me: Crapnuggets. What now?

Me: I have to pee on all the things!

Me: Um, we’re 4 DPO. And we popped from the left. Remember? No left tube? Chances slim? Ring a bell?

Me: We’ve always fallen on the low end of the stats. We totally will now. The baby psychic said so!

Me: Oh we’re back on that now.

Me: Yes! Must. Pee. On. Things!

Me: Is this how you’re going to be all week?

Me: Yeeeeeeeeeesssssssssss!!!!!

Me: Oh dear.

Me: Can we pee on stuff tomorrow morning?

Me: Let’s wait until 10 DPO. Ok?

Me: 6 DPO

Me: 9 DPO

Me: 7 DPO

Me: 8 DPO – and I’m not going any lower.

Me: Saturday! Saturday! Saturday!

Me: Are you a monster truck announcer now?

Me: Nope. But I wanted to sing some Rebecca Black, so count yourself lucky.

Me: Shoot me now.

Me: After we pee on stuff on Friday, Friday, gotta get down on –

Me: We agreed on SATURDAY.

Me: But Friday is so much catchier.

Me: Oy, no wonder my brain is mush.

Me: Sitting on the toilet seat, lookin at my pee sticks, gotta make my mind up, which stick should I taaaaake….

Me: Saturday.

Me: And Sunday comes after… waaaaards!

Me: I’m going away now.

Me: Suit yourself. It’s Friday Friday, gotta pee on stuff on Friday…

Me: Saturday.

Me: Mo’s looking forward to the weekend, weekend…

Me: *walks away slowly*

To Pee or Not to Pee

31 May


Me: What are you so excited about?

Me: We’re back from vacation!

Me: How is that a GOOD thing?

Me: We get to pee on stuff!

Me: Um, not quite yet.

Me: Yes! We must pee on All the Things NOW!

Me: Nope.

Me: Why not?

Me: Because we’re not sure when we ovulated. At best, it was last Thursday. At worst, it was a couple of days ago. No pee stick will give us a BFP right now.

Me: Sure it can!

Me: Explain.

Me: Because I had the “I’m preggo” feeling.

Me: Yes, but even if we are preggo, it will still take a couple of days before anything shows up. A couple of days at best. More like 5 or 6.

Me: Nope! I’ve decided we fertilized last Thursday, and there’s been a cluster of cells digging into our ute ever since.

Me: That’s impossible.

Me: I will it to be so!

Me: That won’t make any difference.

Me: I have magic pee that makes two lines appear!

Me: Nope.

Me: We MUST pee! Now!

Me: We have one solitary Rolls Royce. I will not allow you to squander it on your silliness.

Me: Please?

Me: Nope.

Me: Pretty please?

Me: Try a popsicle stick.

Me: Pretty please with a cherry on top?

Me: I don’t like cherries.

Me: You suck.

Me: You can pee on some cherries.

Me: Gross.

(I promise I will post a vacation recap tomorrow. For now, I am in tired crazy town. Welcome!)

Where is My Mind

16 May

Me: Dude, you’re doing it again.

Me: Doing what?

Me: You know, that thing you do when you put yourself in a bubble and zone out and just completely lose touch with everything.

Me: I’m sorry, were you saying something?

Me: That was a joke, right?

Me: Mmm-hmm. Whatever.

Me: Seriously. Snap out of it.

Me: Out of what? I am perfectly fine thankyouverymuch.

Me: Um, we missed our therapist appointment yesterday.

Me: Yeah, so?

Me: Because we FORGOT.

Me: Eh, didn’t feel like talking about anything anyway.

Me: No, you were preoccupied with our uterus again.

Me: OK seriously though – I can’t help it! Our uterus is fascinating!

Me: *sigh* I need a vacation.

Me: Well you’re getting one in 9 days when we fly to Rhodes for our two year wedding anniversary.

Me: Thank goodness.

Me: Until then – it’s uterusapalooza!

Me: Not funny.

Me: It’s Ute Fest 2012!

Me: Yeah I get it.

Me: It’s Lady Parts Presents: An Ode to Our Internal Plumbing!

Me: Hmph.

Me: It’s a Fallopian Fiesta!

Me: Oh dear me.

Me: It’s a Hoping-For-Insemination Celebration!

Me: Did you think of these ahead of time and make a list?

Me: It’s an Egg-stravaganza!

Me: You’re beating a dead horse.

Me: It’s the premier of the critically acclaimed off-off-off-broadway one-uterus-show: I’ve Only Got One Tube, and Half My Sanity!

Me: Ok that one was at least accurate.

Me: It’s Uterus-Rockin-Eve!

Me: Ok now you lost me again.

Me: Uterusuterusuterusuterusuterusuterusuterusuterusuterus!!!!

Me: Le Sigh.

Baby-Crazy 3: The Crazy Returns

3 May

Me: I think I’m pregnant.

Me: *rolls eyes*

Me: No! Seriously! Hear me out!

Me: There is no chance you’re pregnant. You know when we ovulated. No chance.

Me: But I’ve been a bit nauseous!

Me: Mmm-hmm.

Me: And I felt a stabby pain in my back the other day.

Me: *sigh*

Me: And, um… Other stuff!

Me: Ok, listen up; Unless you have eggs of steel you are not pregnant.

Me: “Eggs of Steel” I like that. It makes me feel all super-hero-y and stuff.

Me: (whispering) Oh my FSM, what did I do to deserve this?

Me: Well I have eggs of steel, ok? I’m telling you, I’m knocked up! Can I pee on a stick?

Me: No.

Me: But the stabby pain! Oh, and I have a weird taste in my mouth.

Me: Those are not pregnancy symptoms. You’ve changed your diet and you’ve been exercising more. That’s all that is.

Me: Either that or I’m pregnant.

Me: You are NOT pregnant.

Me: Can I pee on one of our stockpiled Rolls Royce pee sticks just to make sure?

Me: Hell no!

Me: Please?

Me: No.

Me: Pretty please?

Me: You are not pregnant. It’s statistically impossible.

Me: Eggs of steel! Eggs of steel! Eggs of steel!

Me: Can you tell me why you want so badly to be pregnant again? Can’t we go on vacation and get a little drunk first?

Me: Baby! Baby! Baby!

Me: Chanting does not work on me any more. And you know as well as I do that for us, pregnancy does not actually equal a baby.

Me: *sticks fingers in ears* La la la la la la la la la la la!

Me: (yelling) Pretending not to hear me does not make it any less true.

Me: *fingers still in ears* Baby! Baby! Baby!

Me: *sighs* I give up. But trust me, you are not pregnant.

Me: You suck.

Me: Why, thank you.

This is me NOT being self flagellating. No. Really. I swear.

28 Sep

Me: Our pants don’t fit anymore.

Me: I know. I’m ok with that. It’s a side-effect of the Cym.balta, and um, you know, the fact that we had surgery a month and a half ago. And that we’ve been pregnant 3 times in the last year.

Me: So? We’re fat. I want to hate us now. Can I hate us?

Me: Nope. Not doing that anymore. We are learning patience and forgiveness for not being perfect.

Me: Ok. So we’re not mad at ourselves for the fat thing?

Me: Nope.

Me: What about resolving to completely overhaul our eating habits NOW and do a 180? We should totally do that!

Me: Not gonna happen.

Me: But why? I love it when we do that!

Me: But then we fail and hate ourselves.

Me: So? That’s my favorite part!

Me: Not gonna happen.

Me: Ok. Fine. Can we be mad at ourselves for not going to yoga then?

Me: Nope. Things are too busy and crazy right now for that. it’s ok if we don’t go back to yoga for a while.

Me: Ok – how about the fact that we got home at 4pm today and did NOTHING and the house is a mess?

Me: Nope. It was a long day and we needed a break to veg and do nothing. Plus, there’s not much point in cleaning. We’re starting to pack next week so the house will be a wreck anyway.

Me: Oh come on! I need a reason to hate on us! I can’t stand this whole acceptance thing! It’s totally against everything we stand for!

Me: Not anymore sweetheart. We’re all content and at peace and shit.

Me: Come on, throw me a bone here!

Me: Fine. Here’s one: We’ve been really crappy at keeping up with the blogs this week. And it’s ICLW.

Me: Oh! Yep! We totally have! Yay! Can I flagellate us now?

Me: Fine. Go ahead.

Me: *jumps up and down with excitement and runs to grab the whip*

Me: We have a problem, seriously. Well – you do at least.

PS – Happy birthday BB! Love you!

PPS – Even though things are crazy, I’ll still have time for Group Therapy Thursday this week! Don’t just sit there –submit your question! 🙂

PPSS – Shana Tova to all of you Jewish-type people in blog land! Hope this year brings good news for all of us! And stuff! And things!

Virtual Treasure and Angry Birds

1 Aug

Me: Ahhhhhhh!!!!!

Me: Stop it.

Me: No! I’m freaking out!

Me: Stop it.

Me: Poof! I stopped it.

Me: Good.

Me: Dude, I didn’t really. Come on, you should know better. Can I go back to screaming now?

Me: No. Tell me what’s wrong.

Me: You know very well. We’re going in for surgery on Thursday. SURGERY!

Me: Thousands of people do it every day.

Me: Don’t care.

Me: It’s perfectly safe. You’ll be asleep the entire time.

Me: With a tube stuck down my throat! That’s not sleep. That’s torture!

Me: You won’t even know it’s there!

Me: Ahhhhhh!!!!!

Me: What now?

Me: I won’t even know it’s there! No control! Can we run away? Please?

Me: No. We’ve got to do this.

Me: Why?

Me: You know what we’ve been doing the last few days?

Me: Watching too much reality TV and feeling useless?

Me: Yes, that.

Me: What about it?

Me: We do that when we’re depressed or anxious.

Me: No shit, Sherlock.

Me: Now what has been the primary cause of this depression and anxiety?

Me: You being a pain in my ass?

Me: No. Try again.

Me: Me being a pain in your ass?

Me: That too. But dig deeper.

Me: The baby thing?

Me: Yes. The baby thing.

Me: What does that have to do with us getting cut open and being completely in other people’s control for HOURS? HOURS!!!!

Me: Breathe. Remember last month when we were TTC and sitting at home depressed because we were scared of another ectopic?

Me: Yeah. That sucked. But that How I Met Your Mother marathon was nice.

Me: Yes, that was nice. But you also spent a few too many hours hunting for virtual treasure on FB.

Me: That was fun!

Me: No it’s dumb. It’s a waste of our time and… Well, I would say energy but it mostly involves clicking.

Me: Ok. I’ll give you that.

Me: And the fact that we got three stars on all the levels of Angry Birds Seasons?

Me: It was awesome!

Me: No. It was unsatisfying. It was us being depressed.

Me: But the birds! And the piggies! And the golden eggs!

Me: You’re deluding yourself.

Me: So? What’s your point?

Me: My point is – get through this week. Make it to the lap. Get through it.

Me: But I don’t wanna!

Me: Do you want babies?

Me: Babies?

Me: Yes, babies.

Me: Babies! Babies! Babies! Babies!

Me: See now I’ve got your attention.

Me: Babies! Babies! Babies… huh?

Me: This will help us get the babies.

Me: Are you sure?

Me: No. But it’s a place to start.

Me: You promise we’ll be OK?

Me: I promise.

Me: And can we at least spend some of this week trying to get 3 stars on Angry Birds Rio?

Me: Yes. I’ll even let you hunt for some virtual treasure. But after that – to the lap we go!

Me: Ahhhhhhh!!!!!!!!

Me: This is a lost cause….

Debbie Downer

20 Jul

A post over on Keiko’s blog prompted me to go sifting through my archives a bit. I’ve been kind of off lately in terms of my blogging mojo. I’ve been wondering about it quite a bit. I used to post about once a day. Now it’s down to about twice a week. And it’s not that things aren’t going on. I have a life outside of the blocked tube, and it used to be that every little blip in my life would get written up here in some form. So what happened?

I think I have a tendency toward extremes. A lot of talk at my therapist’s office lately has been aimed at this particular space. Not in a bad way, per se, but in terms of how it had taken over my life almost completely. For example, in regards to my career, instead of examining realistic options, I would always just go to “I wish I could just make a living off of my blog.” My social life – all bloggy friends. My communication with real life friends – through here as well. It was taking over every aspect of my life.

So naturally, because I am a woman of extremes, as soon as this was pointed out to me, I immediately stopped blogging. Which really, is just plain silly. Balance. It’s a good lesson, don’t you think? Wish I’d learn it sometime.

I used to log on every night, pop on some Florence and the Machine and just type type type away. Even when I didn’t know where I was going with a post. Even when I didn’t have any readers, this space was a place for me to work through stuff. Lately it hasn’t been.

Honestly? I think it’s because I’m not working through stuff in general. I mean, I’m trying, but there are things I just don’t want to confront right now. I’ve been genuinely concerned about my own emotional well-being, and instead of working on it, I’ve just been obsessing quietly about it in my head. Which isn’t really healthy at all, is it?

I guess because now I know people actually read my ranty little musings I’m afraid of being a downer. Which is so stupid, because that’s just how I am in real life – always afraid to burden others – and I came to this place as an outlet for my feelings, a place where I won’t feel like a burden to others.

So I’m officially giving myself permission to post even if I am a downer in the near future. I apologize in advance. I’m going through some stuff.

Though I promise to throw in an occasional animated gif or snarky rant. Because you guys deserve a little something for putting up with my current Debbie Downer status.

Coming up tomorrow: I’m going to Twofer’s office to beg for a (possibly) unnecessary surgical procedure! We’re gonna come to a decision about Ole’ righty this week. It’s time. The stabbing pains in my lower abdomen demand it. Do they make animated gifs for stabby pains? I’ll have to look into that.

In the meantime, here’s an unbalanced bunny. Cause bunnies are cute.

Until tomorrow!

Fallback Position

18 Jul

Me: I’m a little worried about our career.

Me: Baby! Baby! Baby!

Me: Stop it! I’m trying to have a serious conversation here!

Me: Baby! Baby! Baby! Leave me alone! I’m too busy imagining an inflated belly and shopping for baby clothes.

Me: But we have stuff to figure out. Money stuff, apartment stuff, future stuff.

Me: Nah – don’t think about that. Think about babies. Babies are cute!

Me: Dude, seriously – real life is calling. We have shit to do.

Me: Screw that. Can we watch some reality shows about preggos?

Me: No. We need to find a new job.

Me: I don’t wanna!

Me: We made a decision. It was a good decision. Now let’s get our shit together.

Me: No! Baby! Baby! Baby!

Me: I think I get it.

Me: You never get anything.

Me: No, seriously hear me out. Have you thought that perhaps you’re just so used to obsessing about a baby that you can’t fathom the idea that the next couple of months will be TTC-Frenzy free?

Me: *plugs ears* Lalalalalalalalala!!!!

Me: No more escaping from real life because of the baby thing! Come on! We can do this! It’s time to get a life.


Me: I give up.

Me: *evil laugh*

25 Dollars (Canadian)

29 Apr

First – an update for those interested: my Betas are down to 82. That’s a nice steady decline and I’m pretty relieved things are going in a downward trajectory. I’ll get bloodwork again probably this tuesday and hopefully they’ll be down to zero by then. Then Shmerson and I can head on over to Dr. Twofer’s office and start tackling this biyatch. Yes. I’m in a very “I’m over it” mood about the whole thing. And I’m cool with that.

So now – on to our regularly scheduled blog post:

Ok. I’m about to confess something. The story I am about to tell will not put me in a very good light. In fact – you will most likely feel the need to mock me continuously, and question my intelligence and decision making from now on.

It begins way back toward the end of March, when I was in my first official post-second-miscarriage two week wait. For those of you who remember, I was driving myself up the wall, making up fake games, and pretty much going crazy just waiting for the day when I could finally pee on a freakin’ stick.

Oh – I was so innocent then. Little did I know that there was a fertilized egg finding a nesting place very far away from where it needed to be. The word “ectopic” was not really in my vocabulary. At least not up front.

Ahh – the good old days.

Ehem. Ok. So – I was going crazy, and during this crazy, one of the bloggers I read regularly shared the story of her experience with a certain online baby psychic.

Yes. You read right. Baby Psychic.

I will not link back to the post, nor will I mention this particular baby psychic’s name, because I admit I’m not going to be very nice to her in this post. But I’m sure some of you at least know who I’m talking about.

Ok – so this blogger was the third in a list of bloggers that had paid money via paypal for this baby psychic to tell them when their babies would be born, their sex, and what kind of people they would grow up to be.

I admit – I was looking for a string of hope. I was looking for a fast forward button. I was looking for something to hang my hat on (or my uterus. whatever.).

Plus – I had about 30 bucks lying around in a paypal account that I never use.

So – on a dark and stormy night, as Shmerson was downstairs snoring away, I headed over to the baby psychic’s website.

First  – this psychic brags about her track record being 80%. I know for a fact she was only off by two months for one blogger I follow. So – I somehow on a lark convince myself that if nothing else – the woman has statistics on her side.

There were several packages to choose from. The “standard” package cost 10 dollars (canadian) and would give you one baby prediction. As in – the next baby to come, no more, no less.

The next level cost – well, I forget how much – but would give you two babies.

There were a few more options – and then I hit paydirt. “The deluxe family package”.

Ms. Baby Psychic will give me information on up to four (!) future children PLUS as an added bonus answer any other questions I have.

I was sorely tempted:

Me: Come on! We have 30 bucks lying around in a paypal account! Let’s do this!

Me: Um, no.

Me: But answers! We want answers! We need to know stuff!

Me: This is a baby psychic.

Me: yes but –


Me: yes but –


Me: Oh  come on – just give us this! Admit it! I know you’re curious.

Me: Yes. I admit I’m curious.

Me: So- let’s just do this! it’s only 25 dollars (canadian)!

Me: Oh – you want the DELUXE PACKAGE?

Me: Well, duh. We want four kids don’t we? Plus – we’ve got 30 dollars (american) in this account! It was meant to be!

Me: But –

Me: Come on just do it!

Me: Fine.

And that’s how at 3 o’clock in the morning, on a stormy March night, I paid 25 dollars (canadian) to an online baby psychic.

The baby psychic got back to me and announced that she would have my prediction done by april 26th. And so she did.

On the morning of April 27th, I wake up to find my prediction in my inbox.

I won’t share it with you here.

Because guess what? It’s complete and total BS!

Not what she said.Well, most likely also what she said. But mostly the fact that I was in such a control freaky place that a small part of me actually thought that getting a prediction from an online baby psychic would give me a sense of control.

Plus – she only predicted I’d have two kids. And Shmerson and I want three or four. And the 25 dollar (canadian) package was for up to four kids! I totally could have gone for the cheaper package and gotten the same BS! What a racket!

I’m having three or four kids. And screw you baby psychic for saying otherwise!

Ok – I’ll give you one of her predictions: She predicted a baby girl, which will either be born or found out about in July. I’ll keep you posted if that happens. I actually really hope it does. But I was hoping that before I spent 25 dollars (canadian).

But I will count that purely as coincidence if she’s right. Either that or she found this blog and is basing everything on that. In that case – hi baby psychic!

All in all though – I have to say it was money well spent. It only took 25 dollars (canadian) – and an ectopic pregnancy –  to teach me that I may as well enjoy the ride, because not even a baby psychic will be able to make me feel like I have control over this situation.

So yes. Perhaps the best 25 dollars (canadian. ok I took this joke too far) I’ve ever spent. But for completely unexpected reasons.

And Now?

1 Apr

Me: Can we pee on a stick now?

Me: No.

Me: How about now?

Me: No.

Me: But why not?

Me: We decided to wait until April 4th, remember?

Me: So what? I don’t care. i want to test NOW!

Me: But you know it’s still too soon.

Me: No it’s not! I checked! says that the early response pregnancy tests do sometimes work at 8DPO. THAT’S TODAY!!!! Come on, you know you wanna.

Me: Yes. But that’s beside the point. And anyway, Shmerson hid all of our pee sticks precisely for this reason.

Me: We’ll go out and buy new ones! He’ll never know.

Me: Stop it. Wait patiently. It’s less than 4 days now. April 4th in the morning. That’s all. Just wait until then.

Me: Fine… Is it April 4th yet?

Me: No. It’s only been about 30 seconds.

Me: How about now?

Me: No.

Me: And now?

Me: No.

Baby-Crazy 2 (Electric Boogaloo?)

11 Mar

Me: Hey! HEY! What are you doing?

Me: The happy dance! What – you have a problem with happy dances now?

Me: No – but I’m going through serious withdrawal over here. Why are you doing the happy dance all of the sudden?

Me: BABY! BABY! BABY! BABY! Aunt Flo’s about to leave, we’re no longer smoking. IT’S BABY TIME *does the electric slide*

Me: Ehem – um – don’t you remember that we’re supposed to feel trepidation and all that good stuff? You know? Not get our hopes up? Be afraid of having another miscarriage? Just in general – be scared out of our wits?

Me: yeah that’s your job. *Moonwalks*

Me: Can you at least do a dance that was invented after the 1980s?

Me: Okay!

Me: Oh dear.


Me: Dude. Calm. The heck. Down.

Me: No! I refuse! I will continue to be delusional as long as I possibly can!

Me: Dude – we have to look at all our fears in this. You know – the possible complications, how we’re gonna support the kid if we manage to carry it to term – the trepidation, the uncertainty. The xanax withdrawal.

Me: Screw you! I am staying in the happy place as long as I possibly can. Now you can either join me or go away. Because I refuse to be in nicotine withdrawal AND be all worried about our next pregnancy ok? I am embracing my baby crazy. Now either embrace it along with me – or go away.

Me: But –

Me: Baby baby baby ooooh. Like baby baby oohhhh. We’re trying for a baby baby baby ohhhh….

Me: (OMG she’s singing Justin Bieber. this is bad)


Me: (ok – at least she’s back to No Doubt. Progress)



Me: Ok. I promise I’ll stop the Bieber

Me: Whew. Ok. good. Thanks.

Me: But – on one condition.

Me: It’s never easy with you – is it?


Me: What’s your condition?

Me: That’s it. Calm the heck down – just give us this little bit of joy. Then you can get back to your old mopey self. Come on!

Me: baby. baby. baby.



Me: Ahh that’s better.

Me: (I guess I’ll let her win. Just this once).

You Are Now a Non-Smoker

8 Mar

Dear Me,

You have spent the last 5 months working hard to improve your life. It was hard at times, but today, you feel better than you have in years. You have finally become sensitive to your feelings, and to your body. You are taking care of yourself. You are calmer, and happier than you have been in years. You are moving your career forward at an amazing pace, with a newfound sense of motivation.

You are at the final hurdle. The one final act that will make you come full circle. No – things will not be perfect – life never is. But if you succeed in doing this one final thing – if you never smoke another cigarette in your life – you will officially be on the path to true health.

Whenever you want a cigarette from now on – please read the following reasons why you quit in the first place, so that you don’t fall back into the trap of this disgusting addiction, which has taken too big a part in your adult life.

  1. Heart disease and high cholesterol run in your family. You already have high blood pressure as a result of your pack a day habit. You want to live a long healthy life. If you never smoke again – that is far more likely to happen. Within a few years, the tar and poison will completely leave your body. You have yet to do permanent damage. But if you return to smoking – you just might.
  2. You spend more money on cigarettes per month than you do on your therapist. When you and Shmerson wrote out your budget a few weeks ago – that is the exact amount of money you were missing. Now you will break even. And with the newfound energy that you have, you will soon be earning more.
  3. Your anxiety is caused by nicotine, not relieved by it. Just the mere thought of quitting has brought you to near panic attacks in the last few days, when you hadn’t had one in months. You’re afraid of dying? Here’s a way of assuring it will happen sooner rather than later: Keep on smoking. Oh? You don’t want that to happen? Ok. Take a xanax and shut the hell up.
  4. Remember right before your wedding? You went to the dentist and asked him to bleach your teeth. He said there was no point in doing that, since you’re still a smoker. Now you look at your wedding pics and feel terrible about your yellow teeth. In a few months you can go back to the dentist, get your teeth whitened, and this time it will stick.
  5. Remember that period of ten months where you were a non-smoker? Yes – the first couple of weeks were hard. But – do you also remember how much easier it was for you to wake up in the morning as a non-smoker once that crap was out of your body? How much more easily you slept? How shmerson complimented you on your complexion? And there were stressful times in the middle of that period. And you got though them just fine, thank you very much.
  6. You have had two miscarriages. There is a good chance that the reason for your second one was, amongst other things, your smoking. Do you remember the guilt you felt? The pain at the thought that your filthy habit may have in some way contributed to your loss? You may miscarry again. If that happens – and you are a non-smoker – you can be assured that this will not be your fault. You will not have to deal with endless hours of guilt and self-flagellation.
  7. You want to get pregnant. And soon. this means that you will have to quit anyway once you get a BFP. Do you really want the stress of quitting to come right along with the stress of early pregnancy? Of course not. So go do some sun salutations and get over yourself.
  8. Don’t think for a moment that you will go back to smoking once you give birth to a healthy baby. First of all – you want more than one – and do you really want to put yourself through torture again? Second of all – you are quitting not only because you want to have a healthy pregnancy. You are quitting because you are finally learning to respect your body. You deserve health. Yes you do. Don’t argue with me on that. That little panic you’re feeling? That’s that little voice in your head telling you that you are not good enough. You are. Get over yourself.
  9. Plus – don’t forget that children of parents who smoke are more likely to become smokers themselves. Just look at yourself. Both your parents were at one point smokers. Your mother still is. You and your brother would give them hell when you were kids. Now you are both pack-a-day smokers. Don’t do this to your future children.
  10. How many times have you taken a drag of a cigarette and had that creeping feeling: “you’re killing yourself slowly” you’ve felt it thousands of times. You will never have to have that feeling again.
  11. How many times have you felt uncomfortable about lighting up? Most of your friends are non-smokers. You will no longer feel the need to apologize for your filthy habit.
  12. How many times has Shmerson wanted to kiss you passionately and you pulled away – because you knew your mouth tasted like a filthy ashtray? This will never happen again. Isn’t that awesome?
  13. You are publishing this. Everybody will read it. If you fail – you will have hell to pay from the amazing women who come on here and support you every day. Don’t disappoint them.
  14. Shmerson loves you, and wants you to stick around for a very long time. He hates that you smoke. It hurts him. He is an amazing husband. He does not deserve to be hurt in this way.
  15. You are strong. This may be hard. But only for a few days. Maybe a couple of weeks. You’ve been to hell and back this past year. This is nothing compared to that. Remember to keep that in perspective.
  16. You’re quitting! Do you know what this means? This means that you can try to have a baby again! This is amazing news! Rejoice in it! Embrace it.
  17. As I’m writing this, future me, I am smoking a cigarette. It smells bad. I have a headache and it’s not making it any better. I’m coughing. It tastes terrible. You don’t need to smoke another one to prove that to yourself. You now have it in writing.

Tomorrow morning you will wake up a non-smoker. You are scared – but that is just your addiction talking. The other half of you is rejoicing. Embrace that.

You will be a non-smoker.  You will be a non-smoking mommy. You will love and respect your body. Because you deserve it. Whenever you have a weak moment – shut your eyes and think that a year from now – you could be holding a beautiful baby in your arms. And this is your first step. And even if that baby doesn’t come as fast as you’d like it too – you know you have done everything possible in your power to make it come. You will be guilt free, because you are smoke free.

Good Luck!



Life Is Happening

7 Mar

Me: Hey! Over here! It’s blogging time!

Me: Wait! I’m watching “Top Model”

Me: What’s your deal with reality TV? Don’t you think you watch just a teeny-tiny bit too much of it?

Me: Shut up! You watch it too.

Me: Fine.

Me: So what are we blogging about?

Me: Good question.

Me: a) since when do you pay me compliments? And b) aren’t you supposed to be the one with all the answers?

Me: a) Shut up. and b) Shut up.

Me: Wait – wait – you’re bitter too? This is new.

Me: I’m not bitter. I just don’t have all of the answers all of the time. So what would you like to blog about?

Me: Dude, I don’t know. Nothing much happened today. Can we blog about how bad Tyra Banks’ French accent is?

Me: Um – sure – but that would take like – one sentence and you just said that. Don’t you have any more practical ideas?

Me: Since when am I the practical one? What’s up with you? I mean – not that I mind or anything – this indecisive version of you is rather intriguing. Definitely more fun. Hey! Whaddaya say we ditch the blogging and go chain smoke and eat junk food?

Me: Don’t push your luck.

Me: Darn it. I knew I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.

Me: And why chain smoke?

Me: Cause we’re quitting tomorrow.

Me: Yes and…?

Me: Well – I’m freaking out about it!

Me: Chill. it’s for a good cause.

Me: Really? if we want it so badly – why did we almost have a panic attack just at the thought of it today?

Me: because it’s scary. It means LIFE IS HAPPENING

Me: Yes. And I would much rather crawl into a ball and watch stupid reality tv while chain smoking and chomping down on cheese fries. Mmmmm…. Cheese fries….

Me: I am not letting you win. We got over the potential panic attack today and we will get over it again tomorrow.

Me: *lights up*

Me: enjoy it while you can.

Me: oh we’ll see who wins this one. *puff*

Me: Dude – it ain’t gonna be you.

Me: don’t use that folksy language with me. You know you can’t pull it off.

Me: Fine. My dear self, you are going to be on the losing end of this battle. In 24 hours we will smoke our last cigarette. Ever. That’s it. Done. Over. Finite Incatatum.

Me: *puff*

Me: *cough*

Me: *takes a drag*

Me: yeah – I think that’s enough for tonight.


3 Mar

Me: We should really post something

Me: *yawn*

Me: But stuff happened! And things too!

Me: Sleepy.

Me: I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.

Me: Yes – because you’re a nag.

Me: Hey! That was mean

Me: pffff

Me: What does that mean?

Me: You know – it’s like 😛 only not smiling and making fart-like noises

Me: I can’t believe you just said fart-like noises. And how is that pfffff?

Me: I don’t know. Leave me alone. I’m tired.

Me: *Pointing* Look! A double rainbow!

Me: Where?!? *runs away*

Ok – now that we’ve gotten rid of her. Today was a pretty great day. Nothing specific. Just got some amazing chocolate in the mail (thanks, Marie!), and had a quiet evening at home with the hubby.

Plus, of course, there was a good therapy session followed by an appointment with the Harley Hottie. So yeah. Good stuff. Things looking up.

But I am beat.

Me: *Runs back* Hey! You lied! There wasn’t a double rainbow!

Me: *whispers* Shoot. We’re not going to be able to pull that one again.

Me: Did you say something?

Me: Eh-hem. No.

Me: yawn. Can we go to bed now?

Me: Fine. But let me finish watching idol first.

Me: Ok. I can live with Idol.

Me: At least we agree on something.

I didn’t mean to blog right now, really!

25 Feb

Me: What the frak is your deal?

Me: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Me: Didn’t we tell Courtney on skype that we were going to pop on an episode of Law and Order and get some flippin’ sleep? Like, two hours ago?

Me: Um, yeah. So – your point?

Me: My point is that we keep on doing this! What’s so difficult about going to bed when you start yawning and feeling sleepy?

Me: I dunno. It was a crazy day and I was fried.

Me: Well so was I! So why the frak aren’t we GOING TO SLEEP?

Me: Well, for one thing, we’re blogging right now.

Me: Ha ha. Very funny.

Me: It’s one of my many talents.

Me: Oh shut the frak up and let’s go to bed.

Me:Why are you using frak? Battlestar Galactica withdrawal again?

Me: Don’t change the subject! Go. To. Sleep!

Me: But I don’t wanna! I wanna play stupid games on facebook!

Me: No – you want to get a good night’s sleep because we have a writing deadline coming up in FOUR DAYS and we’ve been so swamped with work that we haven’t had a chance to do a rewrite.

Me; Look! my pumpkins are ready to harvest!

Me: Look! my eyes are droopy!

Me: oh – I just hit “like” and got free seeds! yay!

Me: you are lame.

Me: *click click click*

Me: Hey! Look over there! It’s a cute bunny! *points away from the computer*

Me: Bunny? Did you say bunny? Where? *goes away to look for the non-existent bunny*

Me: *Snores*


Deep Thoughts

23 Feb

I’m completely exhausted, probably a combo of too many carbs and looking at databases all day (yeah, I had to do that again. yay!), and the fact that I’ve had on this stupid BP monitoring cuff on me all day. It’s hella-annoying, and it’s the second time I’ve had to do this in the last two months because the first time the machine went all wonky and the readings weren’t accurate. So yay! I have the pleasure of having to keep my left arm still every half hour while a gizmo makes vibrator-type-noises and cuts off my circulation. Fun times!

So I’m keeping up with my post a day, but this is going to most likely be incoherent, silly, and a little strange. Trysts into my effed-up mind usually are.

So – here is a list of random thoughts going through my head lately:

  1. Why is it that even though I have been eating relatively healthy over the past couple of months, I still find myself wanting a doughnut, like, once a day? I mean, I love doughnuts, and I admit they’re hard to get a hold of here – but I think I’m going a bit overboard. Confession – I did manage to locate and buy a chocolate and sprinkle covered doughnut today. Hopefully that should keep me covered for a while. Mmmm…. Doughnuts. 
  2. I don’t know why, but each time I see a reality show with “the next great” whatever in the title I feel compelled to watch it. This month it’s been “The next great baker” and “Oprah’s search for the next great pimp of kohl’s products”. Wait. That title can’t be right… I honestly believe that if they made a reality show titled “The next great water boiler” I would watch and root for the guy who makes the mistake of sitting and watching the pot. Ok, now I’m really not making any sense.
  3. I love cooking with garlic, but I hate the way it makes my hands smell. I feel like it takes days to wash off. This is a problem because we go through about 3 heads of garlic a week with my recipes, and I don’t like being smelly. Though it is useful for keeping imaginary vampires at bay.
  4. I watch a lot of TV – mostly in the background while I’m doing other stuff (one of the pluses of working from home). I still don’t understand, however, despite my ample tv watching options, why I continue to put myself through the torture that is S&i! My Dad Says. I just heard they’re probably renewing it for another season. Why oh why CBS? And worse – why oh why me?
  5. My nephew started singing “Baby Baby Ohh” or whatever that Justin Bieber song is over the weekend. He’s six and he doesn’t speak a lick of English. Then today I find a headline on an Israeli news site about JB’s new haircut. Yes, a HEADLINE. About a teeny-bopper’s haircut. I believe this officially means that Bieber Fever has gone global. Now, if someone can please explain to me why that is, I would greatly appreciate it. Thanks.
  6. It’s a crappy cell phone pic, but due to popular demand, here is the giant earring I recently blogged about: 
  7. It’s huge, it’s fabulous, it’s gaudy, there aren’t two of them (as in the other ear is usually adorned by a simple, silver flower or butterfly stud), and I love it. I am apparently obsessed with huge epic jewelry. In case you’re curious, it’s a clip on, because putting that thing in a hole would most likely tear my ear off, and it reaches past my shoulder.
  8. We have been living in our new/old apartment for almost four months now. There are still 4 boxes which have not been unpacked, and I don’t think we’ve done even one decent clean up of the place. I know it’s terrible. I think it’s because we know we’ll be moving out soon (though we haven’t started looking for a new place yet). But still, Shmerson and I need to do a clean-a-thon, stat.
  9. I went to see the Harley Hottie yesterday and I mentioned my blog in passing. At the end of the needle-sticking session he asked me for the address, because apparently he likes blogs. I gave it to him, and had no choice but to admit the nickname I came up with for him. He blushed, it was cute. Since I gave him the blog address I’ve noticed an unusually high amount of hits on that post. Methinks HH is showing off. :-). Even if he isn’t, it would be very adorable if he was. (HH, if you’re reading this, when I see you on wed. let’s pretend this post never happened, k? Ok.)
  10. Pause for temporary loss of circulation in my left arm… and… we’re back!
  11. I think I’m done. But you know what sucks? I was totally planning on going to bed right after posting this, and now my tired has gone away. I hate when that happens. I think I’ll attempt to sleep anyway by popping an ep of law and order on the computer. It usually does the trick. Let’s just hope that my circulation getting cut off every half an hour will not impede my beauty sleep.
  12. I didn’t manage to get a wink of sleep the last time I had this gizmo attached to my arm, so wish me luck!
  13. What’s my deal with numbering everything? I am anything but organized (except when it comes to weddings), and yet I am constantly compelled to make lists on this blog. Isn’t that weird? (It’s like we’re looking at Wayne’s basement, only that’s not Waynes basement!)
  14. Courtney, those last parentheses were a welcome back gift especially for you.
  15. I really am just about done now.
  16. No, really I am.
  17. I just like to keep on numbering stuff.
  18. So I’ll go until 20, because that seems nice and round.
  19. Why is it that when I wrote “nice and round” I immediately thought that it sounded dirty?
  20. Ok – that last one is proof that I need to get my gizmoed-up ass to bed.
  21. Good night!
  22. Ok – 22 then. That’ll do.


18 Feb

Me: I want my internet back!

Me: you know, this would be the moment where I’m supposed to tell you that it’s healthy that you’re disconnected for a while, and it’s not so bad. It’s only till sunday.

Me: Me want internet! Me want internet now!

Me: you realize that this means we either have to hang out at the parents’ or at cafes?

Me: I don’t care! INTERNET! INTERNET!

Me: and you’re so excited when you’re finally online we can’t concentrate enough to write a decent blog post.

Me: Um – we can’t concentrate because we have either our parents or some waiter breathing down our necks. But it’s worth it!  INTERNET! INTERNET!

Me: Yeah, I’m kidding myself. INTERNET! INTERNET! INTERNET!

Me: I’m glad you’re finally seeing things my way. INTERNET! INTERNET! INTERNET!

Me: (for some reason I have a feeling that letting her win will come back to bite me in the ass).

Me: did you say something?

Me: Um – no! of course not! INTERNET! INTERNET! INTERNET!

Editor’s note: we promise to be back with our regularly scheduled blog posts on Sunday. Until then you will have to put up with our endless whining. Our sincerest apologies.

Ok, We Don’t Really Need a Second Dog

12 Feb

Me: Did you see that picture of the cute Shih Tzu’s that were rescued from a puppy mill and need to be adopted?

Me: yeah… So?

Me: Come on! They’re adorable! And we love Shih Tzus! They’re tiny and fluffy and cute.

Me: I’m assuming you have a point here?

Me: Yes. I want them.

Me: I see. Um, no chance in hell. We already have Luna

Me: I love Luna! But more puppies! Puppies are cute! They make me happy! And Shmerson pointed them out to us, so I’m sure he’s on board

Me: a. No he’s not. b. We made a deal with him: baby first, then we consider a second dog. And a second one. Not two more.

Me: um… that deal was made like, a year ago, before we married him. It doesn’t count.

Me: By that logic, he can claim to no longer be responsible for doing the dishes in the house and th-

Me: Shut up! You know he reads this!

Me: Well, you started it!

Me: I want a puppy! Yay! Cute cute puppy!

Me: eh-hem. Breathe.

Me: Puppy! Puppy! Puppy! Puppy!

Me: I hate it when you do this. Think.

Me: about puppies?

Me: Stop recycling jokes. Think.

Me: Thinking… Thinking… Thinking…. What am I supposed to be thinking about?

Me: Have you heard of a term called “transference”?

Me: Well, duh. You’re not the only one who went to college. I was there too, remember?

Me: Yeah – sometimes I question that.

Me: You’re mean. Can you just get to the point? I want to look at the picture of the cute doggies again.

Me: My point is that you don’t really want another dog. What you want is a baby. And since we’re using a bunch of self control until we try again, you’re transferring your longing over to the doggies.

Me: Stop analyzing me!

Me: Dude, that’s what we do. This is the point of our conversations.

Me: Is it? Because I think they’re mostly there to bum me out.

Me: Get over it.

Me: *sneaks off to look at the cute doggies*

Me: I give up.

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