Friday, May 30, 2008


Friday is here at last, at last...
Sorry about the cranky woe is me yesterday. After I posted I started thinking about all the amazing women who have been at this much longer and had a harder time than I have and still are childless. What a twat I am. (Nah, don't bother to comment, I know, I know: I'm a NORMAL twat.)

After last weekend's sad pathetic what-the-hell-all-my-friends-are-race-fans and nobody-wants-to-karaoke, I am determined to go tonight. It has been months and months and I am just itching to make a fool out of myself.

The bar we used to go to closed, which is too bad. It was half a block from where we used to live and it was like Cheers - everyone knew your name and worried when you didn't show up. The waitress had your drink as soon as she saw you walking in the door. The woman who ran karaoke was really sweet and nice.
So nothing can be as good as that and many of the karaoke places are weird. There is a place north of here that has a dj who looks like Tom Petty with dark hair. He also likes to sing Tom Petty songs. And he's creepy. We used to go to a place that had karaoke run by a Slovakian Elvis impersonator who would say "Wadda ya tawkin about?" every five minutes along with "teeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaam DRIIIIIINK." He apparently got fired though.

So my big plan for the weekend is to karaoke. After that, who knows. Maybe I'll try and plant those plants I got from my mom last week if they are still alive...

Thursday, May 29, 2008

Bitchy Menstruating Io

(You might not want to read this if you are pregnant. Or have kids. Or pretty much have any plan to have kids. It's not that I don't love you, it's just that I am a raging hormonal bitch today.)

Last night I had a dream that I met another woman who was dealing with infertility and I was so excited to tell her all about Mel and Stirrup Queens and all the blogs...
As I'm telling her this though, another woman came up and she was like "NO! Don't look at the blogs! Stay here with me. I'm bitter and infertile and I never ever get pregnant. All those bloggers get pregnant and then have these..." And she whips out this beautiful little baby girl. And the new girl and I get all soft and doe eyed and start to melt. So the baby disappears.

Then I woke up (before my alarm dammit) because I had bad AF cramps.

Obviously, my brain is a jealous, weaselly little shit. And my period doesn't help. I am feeling very hormonal and self pitying again today. And it seems like half my blogroll has gotten knocked up lately. And I am happy for them! I really, truly am! I have cried tears of joy for their BFPs.

I just hate feeling left behind, like there is nothing I can do. I mean, it. won't. happen. I can't hope that somehow a miracle will occur, because there is exactly a 0% chance of it. Not even 1/100th of a percent. And so I'm feeling all sorry for myself again. And I don't mind being a bitter bitchy wench about my crackhead neighbors with kids. But how pathetic does my brain have to be to give me a dream that bashes other infertiles?

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Ants or something else in my pants

Annacyclopedia wants to come be a hippy with me. So it is fitting that I wore a long crinkly hippy skirt yesterday accidentally and because of her and Kate.

See, my iBFFs are all up their gardens. They talk about their plants and take beautiful close up pictures of dew drops on leaves and achingly brilliant flowers and make me think that maybe my lazy brown thumbs should be outside.

Those jerks.

See, because I wanted to be like them, I went over to my mother's house. My mother has slowly been getting rid of every blade of grass on her property for the last 24 years. She is almost there. My mother loves nothing so much as her garden. And I enjoy it as well. I enjoy eating her raspberries and cherries and spinach and tomatoes. I enjoy stopping by in the summer to gather huge bouquets of flowers for whatever occasion calls for them. I enjoy sitting under the apple trees and reading a book.

But instead of just enjoying the fruits (literally) of her labor, I thought I should get some of her plants and try and grow them over here in my yard.

My friend B_ came with to look for plants. We took the tour and took notes about what we each wanted and what the plants needed to thrive. Then we went back and started digging and bagging. We filled up the entire back of my station wagon. But just as we were finishing


I ran inside and pulled my pants off. As I did so, I caught a brief glimpse of a winged bug monster thing.
It was still somewhere in my pants and I didn't want to reach my hand in to find it, so I threw them in the washing machine, slammed the lid closed and turned it on. I figured that would take care of my tormentor.

However, as I was now pants-less, I had to grab the long hippy dippy skirt my mom had hanging up in there.

So Anna, thanks to you, your dream for us to be hippies has at least partially come true.

Monday, May 26, 2008

Four day week, here I come.

Well NaComLeavMo seems to have kicked off to a great start. I've left lots of comments yesterday and today and read quite a few blogs I don't normally read. I've had a lot of very cool new people over here commenting too. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside to see the blogospere chitter-chattering all over.
It also makes me feel like I should post, though I don't have much to say.

* * *

I've lived in Indy most of my life. I was born in South Dak0ta, but the only memories I have are from visiting. (I remember huge soft flakes of ash falling from the sky like snow as Yellowstone burned. We might have been visiting friends in Wyoming though, now that I think about it. OK, maybe I have *no* memories. )

Central Indiana is not breathtaking. We have no jagged mountains like my cousins in Colorado. We don't have the almost mystical rocks and wise Joshua Trees like my Aunt in 29 P*lms. We don't have the intense bustle of the entire world converged in one place like my best friend in NYC.

No, although there are certainly the everyday charms of trees and flowers and stately cornstalks, we don't have anything that naturally, incredibly, uniquely defines us. So to compensate we have a big car race. Vroom vroom. (Actually, to be fair it's more like WHNAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH. I live 7.4 miles from the track and I could still hear the cars. Makes me cringe thinking about the kids at the track and what must be happening to their hearing.)

I do not attend the race. I don't really see the point in watching cars, no matter how fast, zooming around a track. Obviously, many other people *do* so maybe there is just something I am missing. In past years my lack of interest hasn't been a problem, but this year apparently all of my friends that were in town suddenly became huge freaking fanatics. Nobody wanted to go out to karaoke, but all weekend we were invited to come down to the track or to somebody's RV or to the parade. Since I am not interested in being surrounded by drunk rednecks (and no, they are not *all* drunk rednecks, but a whole lot of them *are*) who say things to their children like "Just throw the beer can on the ground. They got Mexicans to clean it up later" (overheard by my friend B), I didn't go and because my friend all suck I did not get to go to karaoke. I have not been in months and I was all revved up to go. Darn it. The world is missing out on my smashing rendition of Gold Dust Woman.

(Sorry, that was a long run-on-ish sentegraph.)

I'm not sure what the point of all of this is, other than to tell you that I do not want any of you to invite me to a car race. Ever.
You know, just in case you were planning on it.

Sunday, May 25, 2008

Show and tell

Well, I wanted to do the show and tell, but my stupid camera cord is nowhere to be found. We have cords out the wazoo in here, so I keep pouncing on a cord thinking "Aha!" only to realize it is completely not my camera cord.
So I must look through the pictures already on my computer to show you what I want...

I was trying to take a picture of a picture and obviously it didn't really work...
This is a picture (of a picture) of me and my best friend L when we were probably 16 or 17. It was from one of those photo booths where you get 4 pictures in a strip.

My item for "show" is actually the necklace I am wearing in he picture. It's my grandfather's dog tag from WWII. I wish I could upload a picture of it where you could actually *see* it.
I have it with me all of the time. I use it almost like a security blanket. My grandfather was a tall, broad shouldered man who seemed able to take anything on. He had patience and humor and waiting arms. He had hair that stuck up and out. He taught me to play cards. As a little girl I would rub my cheek against his and giggle when his stubble tickled me. My siblings and cousin didn't have the same relationship with him that I did. I loved all my grandparents, but Grandpa Bill was special. He was mine and I was his.

My grandfather's dog tag has this sharp metallic smell that I love. When I am upset I pull it up to my lips and let the cool ridges of his thumbprint on the back soothe me. It has had countless tears run over its imprinted words.

I never really talked to my grandfather about his Navy service during WWII. I know he was stationed in North Africa. I know he was the checkers champion of his ship.
I don't know if he saw battle. If he saw wounded young men crying out for their mothers. If he cried for his.

Grandpa, I remember you. I know you're still watching out from heaven and I love you.

Saturday, May 24, 2008

Don't do it!

To the person who came over here from googling "I'm about to blow my brains out"

Suicide is bad, but really? Blowing your brains out? Messy and not always that effective. My next door neighbor did it a few years ago and hung on for a week. It was not pretty.
I promise that whatever is hurting right now can't hurt like that forever.

Now, to the person who googled "cat poop infertility": It is. It really is. IF is totally cat pooptacular.

Friday, May 23, 2008

An Open Letter to the bitch in the Urology of Indiana Billing Department

Look Lady,
I generally try to be nice when dealing with customer service people. I understand that it is generally not their fault that whatever issue I have with my bill exists. I do not yell, or threaten, or even get brisk. I am nice and kind and dripping in motherfucking honey. Because I know what it feels like to get yelled at over the phone for something that is not your fault.


This is the third erroneous bill we have received for A_s MESA. We paid for the surgery when we scheduled it, because you told us that was what we needed to do. The first two bills we received I called and talked to somebody else in the billing department. The first time I was upset, but not angry. The second time I was angry, but I did not yell. And now you send us a third bill for money we do not owe. In fact, you owe US money because we were overcharged. And yet, when I call you say - I have no record of you calling before.

I'm not surprised. After all, if somebody had written down when I called, I imagine they would have also fixed the motherfucking billing problem like they said they would! Do you think I am IMAGINING that I called and spoke to somebody?

And getting an attitude when I ask you to send me confirmation that I called you? Not ok. See, I want a "record" that I have called you before. (Other than my phone records which you apparently don't think count as proof.) Because otherwise, when you send me another bill next month, you might tell me once again that you have no record I called. Every time I call, it will take 30-45 days for us to get a refund. Do you not have my $120? Is this a stalling technique? Because your offices are really fucking nice, so I think maybe, just maybe you can send it to me right now, as it has been longer than 45 days since the money was first promised to me.

So send me a letter saying that I called and you "fixed" the problem. Because I want that letter and then I want you to send me another bill. Because I would ENJOY driving up to the office and ripping you a new one in person. I've had a bad couple of weeks and while wine and punching pillows helps, actually being able to scream at a real live person would be even nicer.


P.S. I hope somebody googling your office *does* find this.

P.P.S. Gad, I'm so immature. Oh well. Happy Memorial Day Weekend everyone!

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Things I have done today

1. I ate a bowl of Chocolate H*ney Bunches of *ats. It was actually pretty good, so I will probably buy it again - with the coupon that actually means they are paying me 50 cents to buy it.

2. Went to work. Not as exciting.

3. Turned in an initial application to an egg d0nor program in town. They might take one look at me and laugh, but we'll see.

4. Came home to find my husband working in the yard. It looks pretty good. We're going to have a bbq for Memorial Day, so if anyone is in the Indy area (or wants to travel to the Indy area) you're invited! A_ went to culinary school so he can make fancy French sauces and whatnot, but his real talent is in brisket. Mmmm. I'm salivating.

5. I haven't done it yet, but I am going to my friends' house tonight for my annual tv guilty pleasure kickoff: So Y*u Think Y*u Can Dance!
I can't help it. It is so much fun.

5. Written my 100th post! This is it!

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

I am not dead, just in case you were worried

Alright people, I am done being pathetic. (Stop laughing...I mean for right NOW. As in this very moment. I may go back to pathetic tomorrow. Or in five minutes.)

One week of feeling sorry for myself is about the limit to how long I can go before I start to grate on my own nerves.
Nobody died.
Neither my heart nor my uterus was ripped out.
When my husband is not working he makes delicious cake for me to eat.

So many of you incredible women wrote me sweet emails to let me know you were thinking about me. I'm sorry I didn't write back (except to the amazing Kate who got a lovely drunken reply since I got her email after drinking an entire bottle of $1.50 wine) but every time I got an email I'd get weepy and my fingers would feel like lead and I couldn't respond. I just couldn't. But please know that it meant a lot to me. (And dear god, baby chase - thank you so much for your words and the pink rose - you made me sob at work. Thank g*d my boss was in Alaska.)

A_ is doing ok. He probably doesn't want to me talking about his mental state to my online people so I won't. He's got a few leads that will hopefully turn into jobs, though he won't find anything as well paying as the one he just lost. He's also got to start studying again and I know he hates that. He was only a few points off on the b*r, close enough to appeal, but from what I understand, appeals rarely go through and take a lot of time. Blah. Basically he's got all the crappy fuck-I-failed-the-bar-and-lost-my-job stuff going on that you can probably imagine. I imagine many recent grads are in the same basic place of looking for a job, but it seems different because he is thirty five years old and also because he HAD a teaching job that he only quit because he had gotten the job he just lost. So if he had never gotten that job, he would still have his old job, with benefits and shit.

I am keeping my job, unless at some point a couple months down the road it is still a horrible terrible no good very bad situation. A friend of mine whose office I used to work out of did mention that he would like to recommend me to a few people. (I used to do voice coaching. Not singing, I'm practically tone deaf - gender voice coaching for trans gendered women.) So I might see about doing that on the side again.

I just feel kind of tired right now and it's hard to work up any sort of drive to do anything that involves work.

(Ok, stop it Io. Veering towards pathetic.)

As much as the whole no job, gotta take the bar again, shit A_ has prescription med costs out the wazoo so we really need insurance thing is, what really makes me all weepy is the fact that we were halfway to IVF. I was seriously thinking that maybe September would be a great month. And now that is so not going to happen, no matter how many coupons I clip. (Although, I did manage to work it so I got PAID 50 cents to buy a box of cereal. Chocolate h*ney bunches of oats. They might taste like ass. I will let you know.)

Sooo...I need to figure out what to do with myself in the time between now and [big looming question mark] when we will be rolling in money enough to afford IVF (not to mention that ultimate end goal of a baby, as I hear those suckers are somewhat pricey). I have a few thoughts:

1. Stop eating all the delicious cake my husband makes me.
2. Clean my house.
3. Work out more.
4. Go to law school with Kate, although that would involve money and several years of my life.
5. Start writing again. My stupid half-begun novel has not been worked on in over a year. Methinks I need a new plot.
6. Maybe this is bizarre, but I keep thinking about donating my eggs. Not as a shared cycle. Not to get money. But just because I have them and lord knows I won't be using them for a while. And hey, I would know half of what to expect when it got to be my turn!
7. Finally call the guy whose yoga classes I won in that silent auction. I wonder if there is an expiration date on the certificates...
8. Become an ebayer. The garage sale season has started again and I got every Saturday with my mother. I don't know if you can understand how serious this is in my family. We are professionals. My mother has rules and every one of my friends who has ever been allowed to come with can recite them like they are responding to a drill sergeant. My friends give me lists of things they want me to buy for them at the beginning of the season. I should start putting all this hard work to good use by reselling things I get at garage sales.
9. Write another post tomorrow so I can hit 100!
10. ...

OK, I am running out of things. Please let me know what else I should do. I mean, I know I need to live my life and life can't just be about waiting and blah blah fuckity blah, but I still want some ideas. No skydiving is all I ask. That shit is too scary for me.

Oh and this seems perhaps a little awkward, but I just have to say - I love each and every one of you. Even the lurkers. You have as a whole been better support than my real life friends. (One of whom had the nerve to delicately interrupt my pity party this week by saying "Don't take this the wrong way, but don't forget about adoption." Insert standard snarling responses involving "Holy shit! I *had* forgotten that adoption exists!" and "Well, bitch, in case you didn't know, that shit costs money too and right now you are supposed to be comforting me with alcohol because my husband lost his job so shutthefuckup" here.)

So I am not going to stop posting or commenting, though I may not be terribly involved in actively getting knocked up. Please let me know if I get too bitter.

Kisses and hugs,

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

This is my 98th post. I was getting close to 100.
It might be my last one for while. Or maybe not. I can't make any promises either way.
I should have knocked on wood.
A_ lost his job. Our small savings toward IVF will be going to trying to live for the next however long it takes him to get a job. It will be hard to get hired since he won't know about the next bar until September. I might look for another job. I love love love mine, but it pays for shit and has no health insurance.
I am crushed. Smashed to pieces. I really saw this happening in the fall. Now I am worried about mortgage payments and health insurance. And my husband's mental health. I love him so much and it kills me to see him so hurt.
There is nothing good in this situation and I am turning off comments. I appreciate the love and thoughts I'm sure you would send but I need to wallow in this for a while.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

What a week

Thanks for all your comments about the bar. I know I have been more needy than giving in terms of blog-love this month - come May 25th I plan on mad commenting in an attempt to make up for it.

A_ is sad/angry/embarrassed about the results. He really thought he had passed. He studied his ass off and he followed all the suggestions he was given about how to study. One of the guys I worked with on the campaign knew him from school and passed last year. He was very eager to tell me all about how he had studied for the exam. When I explained that his incredible study method is exactly how A_ had studied he didn't have much else to say. (Sorry to the anon on the last post. I really do appreciate any assvice. I just already kind of hated this guy and his condescension.)

I don't think A_ will lose his job. He took the day off on Friday after seeing the results in the morning. All he heard from the firm was when he e-mailed his section head and the guy emailed him back saying he was sorry to hear that and for A_ to keep his chin up. A_ will have to take the July bar and won't find out until October. So basically the firm hired a very expensive paralegal.

I know that it will get better, that many fine lawyers have failed, that in the grand scheme of things that it won't really make much of a difference, but it still sucks. It's two more months of hard core studying, six more months of not being licensed, and I'm sure A_ feels like he'll be walking around his big fancy firm where nobody ever fails with a big scarlet F on his chest.

He has to keep moving on, so he will. But it sucks. And the firm probably won't fire him for not passing the fist time, but he got a one-year contract and they may not want to bump him up to full pay or keep him on next year. Or A_ may not want to stay there.

I hate uncertainty.


In other news, we skipped graduation on Saturday. A_ didn't want to bring his friends down. See, I would have been thinking abut myself and my own hurt - A_ was thinking about his friends wanting to be happy. That's what kind of good man I married.
A_'s parents came into town so we all went shopping and then to dinner. On Sunday we (ok, A_) made brunch for our families. It was delicious. Pecan pancakes rock my world.

I had jury duty this morning, which I completely forgot about until I was walking out the door on my way to work. I was supposed to call last night to see if I had to report this morning at 8am. I was in group 20.
So I call.

Groups 1,2, and 20.

It is now 8:25.

I freaked the hell out and ran out the door. Despite arriving a full 45 minutes after I was supposed to, there was no problem. Sat around in selection until noon, but didn't get picked.
I was glad, because I don't think I could have handled it.
It was a murder trial and the defendant was 17. He looked *so young.* I kept wondering where his mother was.
Note: Do not let your dogs anywhere near me if I have clippers. Charlie is now less than half his previous size and looks like a Dr. Suess character. Or a gigantic tarantula. I'd post a picture, but as A_ said, somebody might call puppy protective services on me.

Edit: Ok, fine. Here he is. I am a terrible mother. And yet...I can't stop laughing...

And as requested, intergalactic robot surfers:

Underneath it says "Inter Galactic Speedrush"

Friday, May 9, 2008

Fuck Fuck FUCK

A_ did not pass the bar.

I know it is not the end of the world.


Thursday, May 8, 2008

I'm it.

Kara has tagged me for a meme:

4 things I did 10 years ago: (1998)
Shiiit. I was a junior in high school. Once again I am reminded how young I actually am - I was 16.
1. I went to Italy. I nannied during the summers from age 14 until I finished college. This was the first summer I spent with a family I worked with for four summers. They had two little boys this first summer. They had another boy the next winter. I got to go all sorts of cool places with them on vacation.
2. I made my favorite pair of pajama pants. They are HUGE (so they still fit) drawstring pants made with (what else!) alien surfer robot fabric. A_ hates them with a passion but I will not get rid of them. They are super comfortable.
3. I went to prom at my boyfriend's high school for all of an hour before we decided sitting in Perk*ns until 2am was a better idea. My mother mortified me completely by coming in to talk to me while I was getting ready and saying, "If you make one mistake tonight, don't make two. Use a condom." And that was the extent of my parent-rendered sex-ed. (I did not have sex on prom night - I stayed a virgin. Aw.)
4. I shaved my head for the last time. (Senior year, I just buzzed it.)

4 things I did 5 years ago: (2003)
1. I graduated from college. Fuck. I should have stayed as long as possible.
2. My roommate and I convinced my little brother to buy us a pool table. He had the money our grandmother had given all of us kids, but he had a full-ride scholarship, so he didn't need to spend it on tuition or housing. (Instead, he spent it on p0t.) We convinced him that since he lived in the dorms and we lived in a house off campus that he could come over whenever he wanted in exchange for buying us a pool table.
3. I got engaged. I visited A_ most weekends (or vice-versa) and we would read the NYT on Sundays. I was flipping through the paper and found a section he had made that was a section all about us getting engaged. As soon as I saw it and started to get confused, he proposed.
4. I spent countless hours with my roommate sitting on an old pew on our wrap-around screened-in porch, smoking and reading. And drinking.

4 things I did yesterday:
1. Went to work, where I was completely fuzzy. my boss kept asking me things and I would have to say I had no idea what the answer was.
2. Took a short nap after work.
3. Went to dinner at a Vietnamese restaurant in the ghetto with A_, his brother, and our friend R_ who is back in town for a few days before she leaves for India. She moved to California over the winter and I miss her.
4. Curled up with Charlie and Thomas and KD on the bed.

4 shows I love to watch
Um, I really don't watch much tv.

Meet the Pre$$
Thi$ Week w/ George S.
Various Law and Order incarnations

and during the summer, my one reality guilty pleasure - So you think you can dance
(I watch this with my friend B_ and we have gotten his husband M_ all into it as well - now we have to tivo so M_ can get home and we can all watch it together.)

4 things I love to do:
1. Read.
2. Eat.
3. Sleep.
4. Get way too involved in various temporary activities so I can run around and complain about how busy I am. And how how next time I am going to refuse.

I hereby tag Emily, Jen and Pepper.

Oh, and I finally got my hair cut this evening. So now it is both red and cut.

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

My feet don't fit in my shoes

Polls opened at 6am in Indiana. They closed at 6pm. (Stupid. My state is stupid.)

It's 11:45 pm. I am home. My candidate lost, which I expected. Sad, but not shocking. My feet are swollen and my brain is mush.
For presidential stuff, Indiana is still coming in on CNN - Lake County, which is near Chicago, is still coming in. I am trying to sit and watch but will probably fall asleep.
Will write more tomorrow. And read. And comment.
Oh I am so happy I could cry.

Sunday, May 4, 2008


(Edited to add pictures)

Ack. I got up super early this morning to go to the filming of Th*s W##k, which was here in Indy today. I got to ask HRC a question about g*s t*x. According to one HRC supporter afterwards who came up and bitched at me, I was "disrespectful" to her. I really don't think I was, but whatever. I'm pretty sure my scorching commentary was hardly noticed.
I got to go home and see myself, because it airs two hours later here in Indy. They shot me from the worst possible angle so I have a triple-de-dipple chin and I was so nervous that my voice sounds really weird. A_ was like, wtf? "It sounds like a voice over! Where is your resonance?" Apparently, I was not destined for the limelight because I both look and sound terrible on tv. Ah well. I suppose I will find a way to move on with my life. Someday.

I did manage to get HRCs signature, so Kate will be the lucky recipient of that - I figured she would appreciate it more than me.
After I watched the beginning of the show I had to go back to campaign stuff. I actually got to do some fun stuff today - I went to order the food for the party on election night. We're getting it from this yummy restaurant that has a lot of interesting vegetarian and vegan options, including a vegan chocolate cake to DIE for. The chef sent J and I out free lunches while we waited to discuss the menu with him. Yum - curry chicken apple salad.
Now I am off to go pick up Charlie. I think I am going to take him with to the campaign tomorrow - J brought her dog Robert in, so apparently it is allowed.
2 more days. Fuck yeah.

Saturday, May 3, 2008


I just got back from the cinco de mayo (on the third) festival where I was manning the booth for my candidate. I brought the Charleh with me and he was a big hit. If every little kid petting him was a vote, we would win big on Tuesday. He was such a good boy and loved all the attention, but now he is sleepy.

I declined to go to a birthday party with A_ because I am exhausted. I'm also bloated and crampy and my skin, which has been fantastic lately, decided to explode. I have a huge pimple on my jaw. Which is perfect timing, because I will be on national freaking tv tomorrow.
I already dyed my hair, but I did a sort of strawberry blonde. I think if I can find the energy I will dye my hair again tonight. If any of you are watching the Sunday morning news programs tomorrow and see a redhead asking a question to might be me.
I am not asking about IF - I doubt they woudl have picked me. Instead I am asking about the latest bruhaha - gas tax. Yee haw. I am so tired of campaign stuff.

Friday, May 2, 2008

Four more days

I took off early from work today, so I have a couple hours before going to campaign. I am at home eating toast and listening to the rain pouring down. I believe this is true luxury.

A few random things:

As much as J kills me with what she was doing before she got pregnant, she really has made a turnaround and is trying to be the best mother she can. She wasn't supposed to go in for another ultrasound until Monday, but apparently they called her in early because they saw something with the nuchal fold or something. J was terrified that the baby was not ok and that it was her fault. She spent the evening sobbing and then she and her husband had to meet with a genetic counselor.
It turns out the baby is ok and they found out it's a girl. J brought a whole reel of ultrasound pictures with to work. She's at 20w3d. She is beautiful.
I feel guilty because I am so petty and jealous inside. I want so much to be happy for J. I want to honestly and completely embrace that she has turned her life around, that she has this beautiful daughter on the way but all I can do is die a little inside looking at the pictures. And even so, I exclaim over the gender. How fantastic! A little girl to kiss, to have tea parties with, to brush her hair and read stories to. Do you have names picked out, a color for the nursery?
I feel like a fraud.
Last night as A_ and I were falling asleep he mentioned that his brother T_ got checked for CBAVD.

I had told him he should get checked a few months ago and he said he didn't really want to know. I don't know what changed, but the news wasn't good.
T_ also has CBAVD (no vas deferens).

In the back of my mind, T_ was our fallback. If something didn't work with the surgery or if IVF doesn't work, I figured we could consider asking T_ to donate to us. He's looks a lot like A_, just younger and thinner. Lots of people who know A_ get confused seeing him for the first time, thinking maybe A_ has lost weight or something. Now, that option is out - if IVF doesn't work, there will be no genetic connection.
I know that T_ isn't trying to have a family right now (I'm not even sure he and his girlfriend and still dating) but I know that someday he probably will and that makes me so sad for him.

I think it has A_ worried as well, that this means he will be passing it on to our children. I don't know if it does.

Thursday, May 1, 2008

Warning: Politics ahead

Sooooo...let's say that I was going to get a chance to meet Sen. Clint*n and ask her a question on national tv...
...hypothetically of course...
What should I ask?