I’ve Been Thinking….

Don’t be scared my dears, this won’t hurt…….much.

Well, not you anyway.

A very good friend of mine mentioned to me a few weeks ago that a family member of theirs had apparently had infertility issues for years as well as problems keeping a pregnancy and they had expressed their surprise at not being aware of it until very recently. In fact, my friend found out in a roundabout way- not from their close family member. My response to this confidence was, after a prolonged pause, and sort of defensively, simply this: “Well, it’s hard for some people to talk about openly, maybe they were embarrassed.” I felt compelled to defend this woman I really don’t even know. It could be, (ok, most likely) is perhaps this actually hit quite close to home for me, was surprisingly awkward for a moment and got me to thinking; hence this post.

Yes, you understood correctly. I’ve been thinking about this subject off and on for the last few weeks. I just decided today to actually share it with my readers. It’s sort of like when they show dependency group meetings on TV and in films where they make the people stand up in the group and say “Hi. My name is ______, and I’m a/an ________” .

See, I can totally understand this woman’s hiding her “shame” (it is nothing to be ashamed of by a long shot, but sometimes, we feel that way, I guess.) or whatever. I know I’ve hidden mine until just a year ago.

Is that hard for all of you to believe? Me, keeping things like my infertility and miscarriage and whatnot a secret from people? A shocker eh? Well, it’s true. It is true that on my blog (and a few select others as well!), I have described and shared at length my struggles with primary and now secondary infertility. I’ve described in detail the hellish 2 month long miscarriage that almost killed me in 1999. But that was with YOU ALL. In my family (and Z’s), only two people knew about my problem of infertility. My Mom and my husband. Catrina knew as well. I was frankly too ashamed to admit it to anyone else. But you know, I think it goes further than being ashamed. It is, at least in my case, self-preservation. Knowing what you do about my husband’s family, can you really see me allowing them to find out something like this? It would be kind of like saying to them “Oh, I’m going to stand over here at close range while you aim that heat-seeking missile at the bull’s-eye I’ve placed on my chest and just to be safe, I’ll hold this big old flaming torch in front of it so you don’t miss. OKEEDOKEE? Now shoot!”

Duh! Do I strike you as stupid? Lord, I hope not! As is, monster said painfully frequently- and loudly- at any given opportunity for those first 2 years up until the day I found out I was pregnant (finally) that: “If a woman can’t get pregnant and give her husband a child, then he should divorce her and marry someone that can.” (Can y’all say HINT HINT???) Letting her find out somehow that I had fertility issues would have been like handing her a winning lotto ticket, don’t you think? As it was, I felt absolutely horrible that I couldn’t get pregnant, month after month, can you just imagine her digging in Z’s ear every day with “You should marry someone else that CAN get pregnant. She’ll probably never have a baby.” If she knew? Yeah, I thought you might be able to picture that. *shudder*

So, I kept hush and swore Z to keep his mouth Zipped. (Capital Z)

The feelings and emotions that you feel when you realize that unlike what seems like everyone else on the planet, you cannot get pregnant by your husband/boyfriend/significant other/one night stand just looking at you or breathing on you. Ok, I’ll be honest. Or by a lovely night (or day, or morning, or quickie) bit of passion. You ask yourself over and over the horrid question that makes you sound like a 2-year old…. ‘WHY????????’. Which is also usually followed by “Why me?” and in my case, tears and cursing, but hey, I find cussing an excellent vent of emotions, but that’s just me! At least I don’t break stuff………very often……..anymore. (Ha! Joking! Kinda.) Because what usually follows my tears and cussing is typically anger and a big ole dose of determination and stubbornness. But again, that’s just me. Anyway…

Another reason I never told anyone was because, well, it sort of makes you feel lacking. As less of a woman. (All right. Sort of my ass!) Procreation should be fairly simple. Do the deed often enough (for some women, ONCE) and whamo! Baby on the way! Wooohooo. Um, no. For others, like me, not so lovely and definitely not so easy.

I remember very distinctly all the cloak and dagger bullshit when I first started trying to actively get pregnant with Arianna when I was 20. We had been, erm, active for quite a while before we got married, so, after we got married, I figured SOMETHING was up and that the stupid bitch Gynae I had seen at 15 that diagnosed me with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome and said in almost the same breath “but you will be as fertile as the Napa Valley, my dear. Don’t worry!”. C*nt. It’s been a bad 17 years in Napa, apparently.

So, hubby and I told NO ONE about this. I went to the top Reproductive Endocrinologist in the US at the time at UCLA. All this bugger did, many.. Many hundreds of dollars later, was tell me that I had PCOS (DUH!) and if I wanted to get pregnant, to see an infertility specialist. With that, I mentioned to a GP, a woman, who was pretty young and she told me about being an intern under a particular doctor and that he was amazing and very nearby and that when she wanted to have a baby, that HE was the one she would go to. Well, I figured what the hell? Why not? I’ve seen a bunch of other doctors that didn’t do jack shit for me, so I made a consultation appointment for myself and off Z and I went.

I was so damn nervous. Z and I both were. It turns out that this doc that had been referred to me was really, really wonderful. He met with us, asked the usual questions, looked over the tests and blood work, etc. that had been done to date and concurred with the conclusion after an ultrasound. He then set about educating us as to the problem. Turns out he was a part-time professor at USC. He continued to explain until he was sure we got it. I learned so very much about my own body’s reproductive system (and that of a male as well) that day and in the following appointments. Doctor S was so kind and funny and really super intelligent. He suggested some further tests for me before we went ahead with any type of fertility treatment just to make sure nothing else was wrong in there and we were only dealing with one thing.

Some of them were hellish for me, one actually had me whimpering for my Mama, but showed that my uterus is normal and nice and my tubes are clear with no scarring or blockage. Well, WHEW! Z’s test also came back lovely. One test was, well, embarrassing as shit. It is called the post-coital test. In a nutshell, you have to have ‘get it on’ and then present your UNWASHED self (in 30 min or less- ew. Just …. EW!!) to the doc for him to check if your cervical mucous is friendly or hostile to your partner’s sp*rm under a microscope. The doc also checks elasticity of said cervical mucous. I don’t think they can come up with a more, awkward test than that, really, but I’m not going to tempt fate and say they can’t, cause, well, you know how things get when I open my big mouth, now DON”T YOU? Anyway, that was fine also.

Am I rambling? Deal.

All during the repetitive attempts at getting pregnant before Arianna and afterward as well, we were sneaky about it. Trying for Arianna, well, we went broke with all the tests and Clomid and injectibles and labwork rounds and then Mama stepped up to the plate for a round or two of injectibles that didn’t work, bless her heart. When Z couldn’t go with me for my appointments, Mama did. I still shudder with horror when I remember my reaction to the steroids Doc S gave me that last injectibles round… it was truly hideous. Doc gave me Dexamethasone and when you read the side effects, I got EVERY SINGLE ONE in the extreme. It was not pretty, and quite frankly, neither was I. I was exhausted physically and emotionally. Eventually I got pregnant on almost a fluke a few months later just by taking Clomid in mega doses on a lark. Literally. Like it would hurt anything? Naw. Good thing I did, risk taker that I sometimes am. Heh. Yet, even after I got pregnant, noone knew what I had been through.

It’s bad enough that YOU feel lacking somehow, but God forbid that others’ see you as lacking too. I mean, it is the most ‘natural’ thing in the world for a woman to have a baby so they say. It is why women’s bodies were created the way they are, to give life and nurture it. Our internal organs are different in that our reproductive organs are inside our bodies. Our hips are broad, our pelvises are even different. Our breasts have milk glands for nurturing a child after birth. So, somehow, to have none of these things be of use is just… well, frustrating.

I know that there are people that have worse reproductive problems than I have and greater challenges to overcome. I’m not saying I’m special. I am one of many, which I now realize. I knew it then, but not to the extent that I do now. Yet even so, I am still ashamed. I admit it freely. Still. And I still am, well, lacking, but I am not alone.

I kept all of this to myself. It was a hard thing emotionally to suffer through. Keeping all these feelings inside, can you imagine how I felt when, after barely surviving Pneumonia, Contagious Mononucleosis and a host of other infections at the same time, including Laryngitis, Pharyngitis for FOUR FUCKING MONTHS WHERE I COULD NOT SPEAK, I somehow managed to forget that I had sucked down some Clomid again in between relapses in conjunction with Metformin and when the bleeding started, I figured it was one of my occasional extra long, bleed for a month or so periods. I almost bled to death, since the other illnesses didn’t get me, although they came damn close. Then, when the Gynae got my D&C results (he did to try and just give me a good “Spring Cleaning” to hopefully stop the bleeding ,heh ) from London, he looked at me and said “Well dear, you are a smart lady, and are very familiar with medicine. I’m going to let you read the results for yourself.” Which he did. I took them and read over and over again, him watching my face very closely (well, he was paranoid, since I’d fainted on him a few times from blood loss and I was still very low at this point, despite the transfusions). I read it maybe 5 times, shaking my head in denial until he gently removed it from my hands. Basically it said that there had been fetal tissue in the sample sent. So, I had miscarried. To say I was in shock would be an understatement. I was devastated. I had been so ill, I didn’t even recognize the pregnancy symptoms for what they were. I can’t help but think that my baby would be 5 years old by now. Anyway, we told everyone that I had in fact miscarried, but not about my multiple attempts at getting pregnant since Arianna was two.

Between that miscarriage and two or three years ago, something interesting happened. The mother of the triplets went to an infertility specialist here after getting married and started getting treatment to get pregnant. Slowly it came out quite by accident that her sister, Su, who had been married for 5 or 6 years was seeing the same doctor, and had been for over a year or two. Then, Triplet mom, A, got pregnant. A month later, Su got pregnant. Su did IVF, and A did monitored injectibles cycle twice. The month that A delivered her daughter S & A’s younger sister (#3 of 4) also went to this doctor. She found out she was pregnant (same treatment as A) 3 weeks after Su delivered her son.

On the one hand, I was glad that they all had successful treatments and had babies. I was also glad not to be the only one. Cause frankly, even if Monster found out about MY fertility problem, what the HELL could she say about ME when her OWN granddaughters, THREE OF EM IN FACT had infertility issues too! Woo. Hoo.

Then I started trying myself in earnest and here is where ‘the other hand’ comes in.

Both A and S, sister 1 & 3 got pregnant AGAIN while I was still trying. A got pregnant with the triplets, with the same doc I was seeing, AKA Wand Monkey. S got pregnant 4 weeks later. I found out she was pregnant the same week I found out my first IVF attempt failed. So, on the other hand, I was not the only one having difficulties, but I WAS the one NOT getting pregnant. Ah, the feelings of being a loser yet again resurface in the midst of my everlasting hope.

Another difference was that A was aware of my infertility treatments. We were seeing the same doctor, and we live almost next door to each other. But did you know that until about two months ago she didn’t know that I did infertility treatment for Arianna? It’s true. Heh. That was a little surprise for her. Everyone apparently just assumes I didn’t want more kids (cause they are all obviously high on crack since you can practically smell my yearning besides seeing it when I’m in the room –or 20ft radius- with a small child)

A big help for me has been the infertility forums I found. One in particular in England, called ReproMed. It wasn’t full of all that babydust bullshit that tends to get on my last nerve (since if the babydust stuff really worked, I’d probably have about 4-5 kids by now!) but people that seemed just like me, normal, whatever that is. Just your everyday people wanting a baby and not wanting to feel alone on the mad roller coaster that is infertility treatment. It was nice to talk to others during the stims where you are one big walking hormone that makes PMS look like a cupcake in comparison to the emotional mood swings and other crap you encounter. I thought that the Clomid and Metrodin (injections) were some heavy crap, but I got a rude awakening when I started the heavier, more pure forms of these hormones two years ago. The only thing worse than that were the EXTRA injections I had to get on IVF cycle 2,3 and 4 on top of the usual ones. Damn. Those were loony. The whole experience is something I wouldn’t wish on anyone at all. It was nice to be able to ask other women if they felt the same, it was reassuring to hear the reply “OMG! YOU TOO??? Whew! Thank GOD!” It becomes quite like a sisterhood (Carrie Jo, I know you know what I mean) and when one of your “sisters” gets pregnant finally, you are genuinely happy for her (I know I am at least) and by the same token, when one doesn’t, you are also there for each other. One of my friends from this forum and I went through two IVF cycles together and she got pregnant both times, but miscarried, the first time twins, before 7 weeks. I felt horrible for her. It gives you hope with every success story you read and hear about. It makes you think “Well, it COULD happen for me too!”.

I guess maybe it’s sometimes easier to tell friends than family. Especially in-laws. You want sympathy or empathy, not pity or derision. Especially when sister and brother in laws or other close family are popping out kids left and right and you hear those horrid words at family gatherings “So, when are YOU going to have a baby, hmmmm?”

Of course, now that so many people in Z’s family are having problems, I feel sort of, well, freed in a way. So even at the wake for Z’s Auntie that passed away about 2 months ago now, I was getting that question by actually very well meaning relatives. (His favorite of my cousins, actually, whom I love like a blood big sister has always said I’m amazing with children and prays regularly for me to have another. Even when she makes her pilgrimages to Mecca for Umra and Hajj she prays for me there. She is amazingly kind hearted) So, at the wake? I find myself in the middle of a huge discussion that I did not start about my infertility and just what is wrong with me. Maybe I was just really emotional about Auntie’s passing, but next thing I knew, I was explaining my medical problem and all sorts of stuff with them. Even the older women started putting their two cents worth in, but it was all very kind and loving, which was nice. These people, who are Z’s relatives from his FATHER’S side, and Auntie’s sisters and cousins (auntie was married to Z’s father’s brother. Got that?) were all being so very kind. Hah! You should have seen monster’s face. I mean, the last thing she wanted was being surrounded by people saying how wonderful with children I am and how they are praying (out loud, mind you) that I get pregnant and that is the very last thing she wants. HAAAAAAA. Well, I’m glad I was able to distract them from their grief for a little bit, even though they are the ones that brought it up.

Funny thing about confidences, you never know how it’s gonna turn out. It’s really a chancy confession, you know? For example…….

I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to bitch-slap into next week a coworker and friend of mine a couple of years ago who was incessantly bitching and whining and nagging about being pregnant so soon after marriage. How sick and horrible she felt, all the while asking me for advice. (Which of course I was more than happy to give) Day in and day out I heard her moaning and whining until one day, she made a fatal remark to me “you’re so lucky you aren’t pregnant” and I said very softly: “Actually, I’d kill to be pregnant again and I had a pretty horrible pregnancy sickness wise, 24/7 for 8 months. I should be so blessed.” And then she looked at me and whined… “but I got pregnant so soooon” (she married in July and was knocked up by the end of Sept) which, well, struck me wrong and to which I replied “Well then, you should have kept your legs shut, then shouldn’t you? Or at the very least, used a condom.” I am rarely this bitchy, but when it comes out, well, there is no stopping it for the world. I felt bad for being so, well, harsh, but damn. I put up with the nagging for a long time until I said something. (and Haifa, you know who I’m talking about, don’t you? Hahaha)

Funnily enough, I later confided in this person about my first try at IVF and she was praying so hard for it to work so that we could be pregnant together, the silly thing. Of course, she is also the one that went running to the snake manager that was planning to give me the “golden handshake” right when the Iraq war started and told him that it didn’t work (So much for her keeping it to her own damn self) but he delayed when he realized that if I was pregnant, he couldn’t do it, cause I could SUE and use my pregnancy as an excuse. Needed my work permit to bring more of his countrymen into the country, so, did some office restructuring of the Admin staff. Schmuck.

Am I wandering again? Probably.

Anyway, I can totally understand people keeping their infertility a secret from their families and co-workers and I feel better after this purging of my thoughts.

Whew! Next post, answers to The Inquisition Week 5!

A Good Hair Day…. (and a reminder!)

Hello darlings! I’m recently back from getting my hair done, so yes! A good hair day for me! Scarlett Sings: ‘I feel pretty, oh so pretty! Oh so pretty and happy and ………’

I've gotten a lovely haircut and my hair’s all bouncy and fluffy, so, um, I’m tossing my head about and generally enjoying it. (You men relax!! I didn’t take hardly any length off, it was a trim-mostly!)

I’ve been busy with my houseguest and BUDDY Nooshi from Iran. She is so funny! We’ve been busy (read: shopping and other girly things like getting pedicures and our hair done, and shopping… and … shopping.. ) Ok, well, she’s shopping, I’m just her accomplice, but its ALL GOOD y’all! I’m SO the best person to have with you when shopping. Believe it. I will justify just about any purchase you might care to make. (Although, if it's all wrong, I won't lie to you, I'll talk you right out of it. Just so you know!)

We sit up till 3 am chatting once everyone is asleep. Well, everyone except monster, who eavesdrops from around the corner in the dark. We do the truly evil thing and speak in Persian and English all mixed up so that she can’t keep track of our conversation. Haaaaaaaa. Parts of the sentence in English and the rest in Persian.

Yeah, I know I'm usually up that late anyway,(posting on my blog) but it's nice to chat and talk girl talk with someone. To not be alone. Insomnia is a b*tch and a half. It's nice to have someone to share it with.

Anyway, I wanted to remind all of you that it is Inquisition time again. That’s right. I’m waiting with baited breath to see what y’all will come up with this week. So. You know the rules: All questions in by 12:01am Tuesday, Pacific Time and I will have your answers later on Tuesday for your reading pleasure. Got it? Good!

Now get yer buts in gear and whip out some questions, y’all! I’m waaaaaaaaaaiting!

My Two Cents

While reading the local paper today I noticed something in the "entertainment" section that, naturally, caught my eye.

The name Pierce Brosnan in bold was what did it. I love me some Pierce. Actually, I had a massive crush on him as far back as Remington Steele which was the ultimate in cornball, but who really gave a damn cause Pierce is adorably sexy, then. Hell, now as well for that matter!

Anyway, it seems that Pierce, damn him, has relinquished his position of OO7. Not only did he relinquish his James Bond role, but he made a suggestion for his successor too! I'm not so sure about this, however.

Pierce, Lord love him, suggested Colin Farrell.

Now you all know that I love me some Colin, that naughty, naughty thing. *Sigh,pant.* Problem is, I'm not too sure how he'd be as OO7, you know? I mean, here I was thinking just the other day about maybe Jude Law being a good one to replace Pierce. Somehow, I just don't think Colin is, um, mature enough to play OO7, while Jude is. Although, Colin has an intensity that I haven't seen as yet in Jude, which could be good.

Although, my very favorite Bond EVAH is Sean Connery, who is oh so naughty and cheeky just like our (hell with THAT!! MY) wee Irish Laddie Colin.

I think Colin is a fine actor. He has done some good stuff. Surprised me even .Held his own against Pacino (Oor was it DeNeiro? Whatever. )which impressed the hell out of me. But to be Bond. James Bond? I'm just not so sure.

Come on. What do you think? Jude or Colin? Any other suggestions? Hell, I guess as long as we don't get another Timothy Dalton we will be ok, no? *shudder, gag*

Its My Turn

MY turn is RIGHT!

My faithful readers will remember the lizard incident a couple of months ago, I am sure. Well, last night (ok, technically this morning, since it was 2:15am) after returning from a lovely evening with a large group of friends it was time to collapse in bed, or so I thought. A peaceful slumber was not to be mine, darlings!

I switched on the AirCon and moved to close the drapes so I could change….. and then all hell broke loose, so to speak. I pulled one side of the drapes closed, then reached for the other and twitched it closed and started to walk off when my excellent peripheral vision caught a movement on the top of the drapes by the curtain rod. It would seem that unfortunately (for me)I didn’t happen to see the damn LIZARD reposing on my drapes before shutting them.

My little domestic chore apparently dislodged it from it’s place and, well, it went apeshit and took a flying leap off the drapes as it tumbled from its perch……………

And almost landed on ME. ME! YES ME! The damn thing was airborne and I looked like it’s likely landing pad. I mean we were looking each other in the face, dangit! AW HELL NO! I took a huge leap backwards cussing up a storm something to the effect of “G*dammit, S*hit, So*nofa*Bit*h, Sh*t, Sh*t!!!” over and over again. The lizard fortunately landed on the nearby loveseat under the window that I was standing next to before my leap instead of on me, scrabbled over it and across, jumped off of the armrest onto the floor, ran across MY SHOES (ew! But my feet weren’t in them at least!) and shimmied up the wall and my dresser in a zig zag motion until I lost track of it.

I sort of tried to find it, but couldn’t, the dirty nasty thing. (Sorry Cheryl b. I know you love lizards but EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!)

I stupidly went to my husband and asked him to hunt and kill it while Nooshi, my houseguest chanted “YEAH, KILL IT!” since she loves the damn things about as much as I do, apparently. All together now, what did he say?

“No way! Are you joking?” Figures. I asked a few more times before I delivered my coup de grace….

“Wel, just remember what happed last time there was a lizard loose in the room you refused to find…. You know, it will probably be waiting for you in the sink in the morning when you go to shave and brush your teeth!”

Why couldn’t it have jumped at him instead? Ugh. Gee, and how was your day?

You Asked For It!

It’s that time of the week again! The time when I pick my poor brain of its memories and spew them out on my blog for your reading pleasure.

I must admit, Cheryl made me dredge the bottom of my memory for the answer to her question:

What was your favorite Halloween ever? Costume, who you were with, candy, everything. I love Halloween!

Well, the ONE Halloween that sticks out in my mind is the one when I was about 13 or so. I was this demon ghoul or some such. It sticks out cause it was the first Halloween after I got into doing theatrical makeup, so I did some cool shadowing and stuff in the hollows of my face and all. My face was all white with very dark shadows and all and I was dressed in a white sheet and I had spiked and sprayed my hair white so that it kind of looked like it was whipping in the wind, if you can imagine it. Overall good effect. The picture was appropriately ghoulish.

I went trick-or-treating with Rebecca, Natalie, and Heather. As I recall, it was a very good haul of candy that evening. People were appropriately impressed with my costume, or perhaps I should say MAKEUP.

Typically I trick-or-treated with my two cousins Sandra and Michelle who lived about 6 blocks away. We usually got shitloads of candy, which was then promptly pawed through by Uncle B, Mama, and Aunt R. that we couldn’t touch until the all-clear. Ugh. Never mind that we then proceeded to trade off what we didn’t like for what we DID like. Heh.

What really sticks out in my memory is Jack-O-lanterns. We were real into Jack-O-lanterns.

A funny story? About 2 years ago I took Arianna trick-or-treating and this one house had done so much decoration- it was really good! - and I thought it was a dummy person decoration that when it moved towards me (it was a real person lying in wait for dopes like me) I still don’t remember who screamed loudest - Arianna or Me! SHE is the one that jumped a good foot and a half off the ground though!

This year I made friends with almost every freaking dog in the neighborhood. Well, that and a lovely group of Scottish people that when they discovered my love (and Ari’s) of Scotland, they ALL proceeded to start piling handfuls of candy in Ari’s bag with an extra few lollipops “for your Mom”. Hot Damn! (I shit you not! HANDFULS, Y’all!)


Carrie Jo also got me to thinking with: What is the weirdest dream you ever had?

There are really so many. I have to actually pick one? Um, Carrie honey, does that strange dream I had last week where I was baking and I cracked an egg and it had a double yolk count? Cause it didn’t make a lick of sense to me! (Opinions anyone?)

I have lots of strange dreams. Maybe one of the weirdest was when I was pregnant with Arianna. My grandmother Mildred came to me in a dream. (Now I don’t usually dream in color, per se) but she was smiling at me, and I could hear her voice very clearly and her laugh (which I also don’t HEAR the voices in the dream as much as communicate with thoughts in my dream, like telepathy) and I could see the vivid blue of her eyes. Anyway, she was smiling and talking to me, and then laughing and holding a platinum blond baby with blue eyes which she then handed to me. (Arianna did not look like that when she was born. So who the heck was the baby? I understood it to be mine?!)

Now what was strange about that? Well, Grandmother Mildred died about 4 years or so before I was even born, so I'd never met her, unfortunatlely. Also? I’ve never heard her voice nor seen a color picture of her. When I described it to my Mom, the voice and the eye color, I was pretty much right on.

Another similar dream was Z’s father came to me in a dream also. He was trying to show me something in my asshole boss’s office in a cupboard… something he was trying to keep hidden or a secret. He kept going to this cabinet door and opening it. I kept “asking” what he was getting at, and he looked frustrated until I started getting it. Kind of like playing charades, I guess. Then when I understood what he wanted me to know, (that A.A. the asshat was hiding things) he gave me a smile and looked pleased with me. I woke with the feeling that he was trying to protect me somehow.

I never met Z’s father either. He died the same day and year as my Grandmother Mildred.

Off the top of my head I can’t think of any other strange dreams. I’m sure there are some though. Although, the one about the freaking shark chasing me ON LAND (all right, on a raised pier) and trying to get at me through a door last week was a doozy. It was right in my face too.

Did I mention I DESPISE SHARKS? Well, now I did.

And oh, by the way, I have yet another strange tale to share.

Tonight, in almost pitch dark but for the streetlights, Z and I saw yet another Bahraini Redneck beat-up car doing weird shit. You are NEVER gonna believe this. (Well, Mahmood might)

The car was driving real slow with only it’s fog lights on off to the side of an off ramp (Mahmood, going towards Sanabis, the new one) and Z said “LOOK AT THAT!” I stared in shock.

The car, white and beat all to hell, had a dog, that looked like a Pitbull, trotting alongside it. ON. A LEASH.PEOPLE. The leash was clamped in the shut drivers door with the dog trailing (attached) alongside it. WHAT THE F*CK??????????

That is probably the laziest shit I have EVER seen in my LIFE. Gawd, it wasn’t THAT hot out tonight at all! In fact, it wasn’t warm, and there was even a bit of a breeze. Jeez. Boy did I get pissed off on the doggie’s behalf.

Only in Bahrain!

Thanks ladies for the questions this week!

More Deep Thoughts

Yeah right! Since when? (Oh allright! I occasionally do get all deep and introspective and all that jazz on you. But not today. Oh no!)

No. Because I have had one thought running through my brain today over and over again ever since I got back from my manicure/pedicure appointment.

Look how nice, clean, soft and silky, not to mention pretty and pampered my feet and toes look with their blood red shiny painted toenails!! Which led to the next thought..........

My toes are all prettied up and no one to suck on them. *pout*

WHAAAAAAAAAAT?????? Don't go and wonder where that came from. Remember The Inquisition question last week? Well, it would seem I am seriously missing out here, and I have it on the highest authority that it is better than sliced bread, the wheel, wine and a fine meal, not to mention a few other things I will refrain from mentioning.

Yes, it remains to be seen, Cheryl b, Carrie Jo, and my special friend have brainwashed me BIGTIME. Now I'm all sad. Look what you girls have started!! I mean really! The foot massage that I got with the pedicure was nice, but.... well........ you've made me all curious and stuff now. You have NO IDEA what I'm like when I'm curious but to give you a hint? To say I have a highly inquisitive nature is a bit of a freaking understatement. Z is SO not helpful, the rat. *sigh, wiggles toes*

Speaking of the Inquisition! Whip out those quetions babies! As is? I'm wracking my brain for a Halloween memory for Cheryl b.

The Inquisition - Week 4

Would you belive I almost forgot to post my interrogation post invite this week? Shame on me, I know!

You all know the deal. For those of you that don't (or have short term memory) a refresher: you have until 12:01am Pacific Time on Tuesday to ask me any question your heart desires. Later on Tuesday, you will have the answers you seek. Fair enough? Good.

So, come on, gimmie some questions!

And by the way? Happy Halloween! Trick or Treat!

Don’t I Wish?

The other day I had an interesting experience at the airport while waiting for my friend & houseguest from Iran to arrive.

Z and I were standing around waiting for the flight to arrive near the help desk (We had to give her entry visa to the counter guys to take up to Immigration to allow her to come through.)

Anyhoo, while I was looking at the arrivals board and noticing that her plane landed I suddenly felt a touch on my leg. At first I thought I was imagining, but no, there! I felt that touch on my thigh again I turned around to give whoever it was a piece of my mind, and then I realized I had to look down as I felt the tapping on my leg again. The sweetest voice was saying “Mama! Mama!” to me now.

I looked down and my eyes fell on a gorgeous 1 ½ year old little girl smiling up at me and calling me MAMA. I looked at her beautiful huge sky blue eyes and dark burnished gold fat curls on her head with the little ponytail spout of hair on the top of her head just how I used to fix Arianna’s hair. She started grinning at me with the few teeth she had all shiny and white like little pearls.

Immediately I was enchanted with her and stooped down to her level and started talking to her. I looked up and noticed her Sri Lankan nanny standing nearby staring at her with adoration and smiling at me in kind. I just had to touch this little angel when what I really wanted was to grab her and give her a big cuddly hug. I held out my hand and she trustingly put hers in mine, patting me while staring deep into my eyes and continuing to call me mama. I looked around and told Z “Look at this angel who keeps calling me Mama. Don’t I wish???” He was smiling at her also. She was such a beautiful child, I don’t know who couldn’t look at her with that dopey besotted look on their face, I really don’t.

Finally Z told me “We have to go, the plane is here and she should be out any minute now!” and he pulled a reluctant me away from my angel. I dragged my feet as I left her, even though I was excited to see my friend after two years. I turned around and found that my new little friend was staring at me across the airport… still. Twice more I turned around and found her watching me. Then finally her nanny picked her up and walked away with her to take her back to her parents and my friend exited customs.

I still can’t get that little face out of my mind.

Who’s with me to hunt Wand Monkey down like the rabid bastard he is and break his useless hands? I should totally have a baby of my own by now, dammit!

Sigh. On with the hunt!

Old Reliable

Two guesses what I was doing? (Genuine! Behave yourself! Chris, you too!) I was snooping around cnn.com as usual. Naturally I came across yet another weird ass newsworthy item.

You know that against my better judgement, and after I said " No F*cking WAY! He didn't???....." I had to click on the link to this header:

"Man says live wire in bath was to save marriage"

Who in the hell is he trying to kid and exactly how much crack had he just smoked? I mean REALLY! Check this out......

"........Dahlby's wife, Mary, testified Tuesday her husband drew her bath after they spent the day taking a walk and a long motorcycle ride.
While she took her bath, her husband came into the bathroom and dropped the cord into the bath, she said.
She jumped out of the bath, but her husband tried to push her back in the tub, Mary Dahlby said. She got free and ran out of the bathroom."

Uh-huh. Yeaaaaaaaaaaaah. He was trying to make the marriage work. Work? For WHO exactly? Himself? Trying to SAVE the marriage? or END IT? Damn. Can't you just imagine the conversation leading up to that? "Oh honey, you must be exhausted from our day out today! How about I draw you a nice warm bubble bath for you to soak all your pain away? It will be special so that you'll never feel pain like this again..."

He is SUCH a crack whore. Yes, HE. Whore. (It COULD HAPPEN!)

I can only say this: That poor bitch.

Good Lord, the crap I find on my nice reliable news source... Cable News Network... CNN, also known as Cyn News Network in select circles! This is my slogan: "See It. Read it. Love it."

Run Boy, RUN!!!!

My SIL told me a funny story the other day that I just HAD to share with you all. It was another one of my “I am SO blogging THIS!” moments. It’s almost as good as the hamster and lizard stories.

Almost. Well, I’ll let you be the judge, hmmm?

My SIL was driving the other day and about two cars in front of her she sees this beat up old car being driven by the equivalent of a local redneck with a big fat LIVE SHEEP in the trunk with the lid open, but tied sort of down (the lid, not the sheep) with a bit of rope. We assume this poor little sheep was on his way to be either someone’s dinner for Ramadan.

As if the sight of the sheep hanging from the trunk wasn’t amusing enough? What happened next had me in stitches.

Well, as will usually happen here, due to the SHITTY infrastructure, traffic ground to a stop for one reason or another. Sheep car and SIL were stopped next to a huge dirt lot. I guess the sheep figured it was now or never. As my bemused SIL watched, the sheep made a break for it. It hopped right out of the car and took off up on the sidewalk and into the dirt lot. Said “redneck” noticed (my SIL is screaming with laughter by this point) and decided to give chase. Did he hop out of the car and chase him? Hell no. Of course not!

He jumped the car UP on the pavement and proceeded to chase it IN THE CAR in circles, in the dirt lot, with the sheep hauling ass cause, naturally, it was terrified of a CAR coming at it and was running it’s little ass off. Stupid dude could have probably caught the damn sheep if he had gotten out of the car, but NOOOOOOO, he kept chasing it in the car and sending up great clouds of dirt. It remains to be seen that the damn sheep is highly intelligent in the first place for making a run for his life at the first available opportunity. Well, infinitely smarter than the dumbass that was planning on eating it for dinner at any rate!

Now what you are dying to know is….. did he ever get the sheep or not?

What the hell do YOU think?


Of course not.

The Confession - Week 3

Welcome to The Confession section of my weekly post, The Inquisition, week 3. VERY interesting questions by both Cheryl b and Carrie Jo. Without further ado, here we goooooooooooooo!

Cheryl b asked me a few questions, some serious and one playful one!

1) “What will you do if you don’t get pregnant?” Go Apeshit, (capital ‘A’) probably.

2) “Would you keep trying indefinitely?” Yes, I’m such a stubborn-minded determined and tenacious wench, once I get something in my head, a goal, I don’t give up until it is impossible to achieve it. So yeah, I will keep on trying to get pregnant until either a) I get pregnant (yaaaay! Hopefully) or b) they tell me I’m all dried up and my eggs are no good i.e.: I start menopause, whenever THAT will be.

3) “Would you ever adopt?”

Perhaps later on should option b) above happen before I get another child of my own. I cannot adopt here while living here in Bahrain though. The govt makes it practically impossible to adopt. You can be a type of foster parent, but not really adopt. (since Z is from here) and they don’t have laws to recognize a child not genetically belonging to you blah blah blah (if to adopt from another country). Pain in the ass, no?? yup. Regarding your comment about wanting to adopt rather than risk another miscarriage, in a way I understand. I don’t know the circumstances surrounding your miscarriage or the details, but having had one of my own I can but imagine. Mine was drawn out over almost 2 months. The pain was (and is) unlike anything I have ever experienced and completely hellish. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy (i.e.: monster- but it’s a little late even if I did want to wish it on her, you know?).

4) “Have you ever had your toes sucked on, and if so, did you like it?”

Cheryl, you crack me up, woman! Actually, no, I haven’t had them sucked on. Boy is that depressing. (I think I need to have a little talk with Z, don’t you?) I’m feeling kinda neglected here now. Hmmmm. I imagine I would probably like it, even though- a little secret, hmmm?- I’m horribly ticklish! You should see me giggle and squirm during a pedicure! I still think I’d like it though. I have pretty feet (what? I like my feet!) very dainty and feminine (for a 9 ½ -10 [41] and always keep my toes painted and pretty. You’d never believe they are as big, my feet, as they are to look at them!

Now then. Carrie Jo asked me an interesting question too! It goes a little something like this: “Have you or anyone you know experienced deja vu or anything else paranormal in your life?”

Well honey, actually, yes. As long as I can remember (and that is far back I tell you!) I have had many MANY instances of déjà vu. A lot of it comes to me in dreams, but the actual real happening could not happen for months or years. It frequently involves people, places I’ve never seen or been before. It always stops me in my tracks and never fails to freak me the hell out, even after all these years.

My intuition is extremely fine or sensitive. If you want to call it intuition or whatever. I ‘sense’ things deep in my gut, it’s hard to explain it, but there you go. I’m rarely wrong too.

I have a very deep ‘connection’ with a few people in my life that is so strong it freaks us both out. My mom is one of them, for instance. I can ‘feel’ if she is ill or upset even way the hell over here on the other side of the planet.

Paranormal? The most paranormal type thing that has happened to me would have to be last year. For a couple of nights in a row I dreamt of a little boy I knew when I was very little. From about age 3 to around age 8 or 9. He lived across the street from us and his name was Tony. I hadn’t even though of Tony in over 28 years, so why was I dreaming about him smiling at me for days in a row? Weird.

A week later my Dad and step mom called me. (They always talk on 2 phones at once to share the call, or on speaker) Naomi (Step mom) said “C, do you remember Tony from across the street?” I interrupted her and said “Funny you should mention him! Last week I dreamt of him for probably 3 days in a row! I don’t know why! I haven’t thought of him in years!” The line got real quiet. Then my dad said in a very quiet voice “Well honey, maybe he was saying goodbye to you. Tony died last week of a drug overdose. He was in a coma for a few days before he died”.

A little over 10 years ago now, the phone rang at my house in LA. Z answered it then called me to the phone. As soon as I stood up, I looked at him and said “Shelly’s dead, isn’t she?”. He said nothing, I got on the phone and my Mom told me that Shelly had indeed died. It was a sudden death and she was young, only 38. Healthy & fit, not ill at all. What in the hell made me spout that? How did I know? I don’t know. I just did is all.

There are many, many more instances I could share, but… that would take forever. Well, I think I’ve freaked you all out enough for one week, haven’t I?

Thank you all (ok, both!) for your questions.

A Box of Kleenex ™ , Please!

Perhaps I should elaborate and request the COSTCO-size box? (for me!) Yes, that would be better, I think. Thankyouverymuch.

You see things are generally beginning to build up on me, yet I somehow end up managing to plaster a half-ass smile on my face when I REALLY have to, even though it is becoming increasingly difficult to do.

In particular, the prolonged lack of a JOB. This is driving me up a damn wall. Really. The first TWO months of joblessness could be dealt with because, well, because I was going on frequent interviews. It keeps morale up, you know? Even if you don’t get hired, still…. But since the week before my birthday? Nothing. Dry as a damn well, the job market for my field, apparently. Well, let me be more specific. There are jobs, but only for locals, not for people like me who are in a sort of limbo. I’m not a local, but am married to one. I’m an expat, technically, being from a foreign country, but I live here, my husband and child are here. Other ladies like myself are in limbo also. *whine ,whine, whimper*. It has been suggested that I give up my US Citizenship for a Bahraini citizenship. My response to this is to laugh my ass off…… hysterically. Why in the HELL would I give up my nationality? For a job? Screw that. To become a national of a country that I have had Customs officials ask my husband upon seeing his passport “Is this a real passport? I’ve never heard of this place. Let me go check.” While me, with my lovely Blue US Passport breezed through.

Anyway, I think the Employment Agencies are fed up with my incessant calls. I can just imagine their faces when they see my number on their caller ID.

Also, more specifically, my longing for another child. I have tried to not let this get to me, I really have. It is a losing battle, however. But my jobless situation has effectively put everything in my life on hold, including this.

After my last IVF attempt, the cancelled one more than ¾ of the way into the cycle back in the end of May this year, I sank into a deep depression about it all. I saw the German specialist, who, while very kind and understanding, couldn’t tell me much more than I already knew and had figured out on my own. She basically agreed with my suggestion for an alternative option for another cycle since it had ended up with me pregnant in the past. Her reply was “Yeah, why not try it? It’s not like it will hurt!”. Gee, thanks Doc. I didn’t really discuss with anyone, ANYONE that specialist visit. It just made me feel very, very helpless. I guess I’m just ready to talk about it now. I knew it would be a fucked up visit shortly after I sat down with her and she started reviewing off the history that I had just recited slowly and painfully to an assistant as they typed it in the computer for Doc to read. It was WRONG. ALL OF IT, and that, my friends, freaked me the hell out. I tried my best to do damage control as she recited aloud the screwed up mess they had made of my case history in the COMPUTER, but for the love of GOD, I had given details, MINUTE details from the age of 15 up to present. I was 32 when I saw this doc. You do the damn math. You can only correct so much before the physician’s eyes begin to glaze over and you realize that they are on info overload. Well, shit. The only bright spot of the whole experience is that she was extremely gentle during the physical exam and took her time during the ultrasound, showing me bits and pieces, which, you readers that have been with me from the beginning (or have kindly read all my archives) know that that makes me happy! Happy like receiving presents, happy. But for all her kind and gentleness, I still ended up hearing………

“I don’t know” about the past cycle that was cancelled. Or why, perhaps, the 3 previous IVF’s didn’t work. I mean, I had embryos transferred back to my uterus, but I suppose maybe they didn’t use Krazy Glue like I asked? Apparently not. Stupid gap-tooth-size-of-the-Grand-Canyon Wand Monkey Bastard.

I don’t like being told “I don’t know” by ‘specialists’ and a doctor that has been literally crawling around poking, prodding and removing stuff and putting things back into my body for the past TWO YEARS. Call me silly, if you like. But I would have been happy with a theory, for God’s sake. But noooooooooooooooooooo. Nothing of the sort, damn them.

It all made me want to give up. I felt (ok, and FEEL) like a fucking failure as a woman. On top of that? Everyone I knew, everywhere I went, I was SURROUNDED by new babies. One niece had 3 at once. Her sister had a little boy. A friend had a little boy. Another friend had a little girl. All this within a period of 30 days following my cancelled cycle. Yeah, I felt like a failure, and like giving up. Useless. It is a basic thing. Once upon a time, in VERY early Christianity, the priests used to teach that women were for begetting children. That was their purpose in life. Ok, I will admit that I think that is total bullshit. Sole purpose? I don’t think so, but it IS an important one. It isn’t as if MEN could do it, now is it? Um, no.

So, 4 failed IVF’s for whatever reason, and a dog pile of new babies in my life. A month later, I lost my job. Infertility treatment, while considerably much more affordable here than back home in America or in Europe, is still NOT CHEAP. No, not by a long shot. Do you see where I’m going with this? Be a fly on the wall and listen to me try and justify to Z to scrape up some more money for another shot at IVF (Or whatever) when he too is down about it (being the financer for these little experiments on me because really? That’s what they feel like. Trial and error.) Z’s reply? “It will probably just not work again”. Geeeeee, thaaaaaaaanks honey. No, REALLY. I appreciate it. Between THAT and other comments like it, and that look I get from him, is it really any wonder I’ve been on the down low for the past 4-5 months now about getting pregnant?

SO bearing all that in mind, I’ve been a bad Auntie the last few months, I’ll admit.

It kills me to see the newborn babies. The triplets live one house over from mine. I rarely go over there. Why? Because it makes me feel like even more of a failure, that’s why. But sometimes? I can’t help myself, and I give in and go to them. Sometimes, the mom is so worn out, she will call me, cause she trusts me with her babies, and she only trusts me, and her Aunt alone with them (I know CPR) and we are close, so she will call me moaning “HELLLLLP”, and there I go. I love babies. I love children, and they know it. It’s as if I omit this pheromone that only babies and small children can pick up on. Frequently in stores, I end up with strange children touching me, or following me or staring at me from a distance. More often than not I end up spending a few minutes chatting or playing with that child, even if it is only peek-a-boo!

Even my SIL that can go for a year or TWO and not speak to me for God knows why, (we are speaking at present) frequently says, “I hope Cyn gets pregnant, she deserves another one.” which blows my mind every time.

So anyway, the niece with the newborn son (almost 4 mos) came to visit over the weekend with the little tyke and his 1 ½ year old sister. That little girl has almost IDENTICAL coloring to my daughter, Arianna. Seeing them together, cause Ari ADORES this child, really choked me the hell up. Add to that, this little boy loves his Auntie Cyn. Seriously y’all. He and I hung out together for well over an hour all by ourselves. Even when I finally let him go, whoever was holding him didn’t seem to matter, cause he always ended up staring at me and following me with his eyes and smiling at me with that dopey baby smile that can melt you like butter. Little bear.

I thought seeing him and holding him would cheer me up. I really, really did. But, it didn’t. No siree. Nuh-uh. I also had to hear various family remarks while Z was holding him too. Then? The looks like I was depriving him of a child and his sad little face.

Fuck. Deeper into the pit for me. *Sigh*

But in the back of my mind, there is always that little glimmer of hope, for you see, I’m such a stubborn and determined thing. Yes I am. I am not really a quitter. Also in the back of my mind? My little conversation last week with my doctor friend (Dr. R) at the hospital where I also have done my IVF and other various medical needs. I was on my way to an appointment with another doctor (who I found out was running late, as usual) when I saw this Orthapedic Surgeon’s office door open. He always gives me a hard time for not stopping by to say hello but really, he is usually insanely busy. So, I decided to go wait for my other appointment by sticking my head in to say hello. Dr. R was happy to see me and jumped up to give me a big hug. Sat me down, asked after me and etc… and then he said quietly “My dear, are you still wanting to try for a baby?” and I said “yes. I know Wand Monkey left, etc…” and Dr. R said “Forget him, never mind. There is yet another Doctor who has just joined. I’ve known him for 8 years, and he is a specialist and has amazing success rate. He is a good friend of mine. Let me call him NOW!”. (this is in addition to the doc that came back that I mentioned a couple of wwkes ago. The one that did my Investigative aLaprascopy 2 years back that dumped me on Wand Monkey.)He hopped on the phone and gave him a little chat up and told him to expect to see me soon, etc… Kind of him I thought. The more he talked about him, the more hopeful I got. DO you know what freaked me the hell out? When I heard his first name, which I have only heard ONE other person have before. This new doc has the same first name, Shafeeq, as my doctor in the states that enabled me to get pregnant with Arianna. Then that angel of hope, the silly bitch, hit me with one of her golden arrows.

Perhaps it’s a good sign? An omen? Lord, but I hope so. Am I deluding myself? Perhaps, but what the hell.

I told Z about him, and even HE got excited about that. One small problem though. Remember that fucked up Patient history in the computer from the specialist visit? It is still there. So, I will have to type up everything myself, I think, and pre-deliver it to him for him to go over before I even set foot in his office.

Ok, another problem. I need to be working before I can try again. Who the hell would hire me pregnant, if it worked? Nobody. That’s who. A third problem? Yes, naturally. The money for another trial. That usually shuts Z up right quick when he starts up about me not going to the doctor or making an appointment, I must say.

As you can see, I am slowly trying to give myself pep talks (even though I still end up in tears and down more often than not). Last night is a fine example. But regardless of how I spent last night being best friends with the tissue box, I made myself go over to play with the triplets today for the longest time. I even enjoyed it. (How could I not? Two of them the boy and smallest girl looked so glad to see me, they were grinning and their faces lit up! Then I felt like a complete asshole for not coming more.)

But God it is oh so hard not to be down. I am getting identical looks from Z and Arianna now on the subject of a baby, and it is really too much. I feel like I’m on a teeter-totter and I can’t get down from it.

Oh my. Could I possibly rattle on any more than I have already?

I doubt it. Forgive me for this rant, but you know? It’s my damn blog. Deal honeys, deal.



PS: Where the hell are my Inquisition questions? HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOO?????? Are you all drunk this weekend or what? (I'm starting to wish I was) Jeez. *sniff, sniff* YOU DON'T LOVE ME ANYMORE!!!!!!!!! WAAAAAAHHHH!!!!

Questions, Questions!

It's that time of the week again! I'm all ready for another episode of The Inquisition. Are you, dear readers? I certainly hope so!

Same 'rules' as the previous two weeks. Ask a question. You have until 12:01am Tuesday (Pacific Time) to ask me whatever your heart desires. Then? At some point later in the day on Tuesday, you shall have the answers you seek!

Ready? On your marks! Get set............................ GO!!

You Want Me To Do WHAT?

Get your minds out of the gutter! It would seem that I must go and Google (God BLESS Google!) "Banana Cream Pie".

We went to Z's sister's house this evening. He wandered to the kitchen and snooped in her fridge for some juice to drink. When we got home, he looked at me and said "When I went in the fridge for the drink? I saw a big Banana Cream pie. It looked SOOOOOOOOOOOO good. Think you can make one?"

My first response was "If you wanted a piece of pie so bad, why didn't you just ask her for one? She's your sister!" He said" If she wanted to give one, she would offer, all of us, so, I'm not gonna ask.". He said she used to be generous, but now? No. (I can remember a time when she used to shove food and sweets down our respective gullets) He's right. You know what I said to that don't you?

"Sure I'll make you a Banana Cream Pie. I've never done it before, but I'll give it my best shot!"

So, here I sit, thinking... "Oh hell. I've never made a Banana Cream Pie before." My homemade crust still needs........ well, it isn't the best. Hopefully SOMEONE will have some Pillsbury shortbread crust in one of the grocerey stores. I'm picky about crust, and if it's bad, it ruins the whole pie.

Does anyone have some Sekrit Family Recipie they are willing to share with me? Cause frankly? I'm pissed that he didn't feel comfortable in his sisters house to just TAKE a damn piece for himself and woof it down, so now?

Now I'm gonna have to make me some Banana Cream Pie, dammit. (My PMS is SO loving all these sweets this week!)


HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *scurries to Google*

PS: Don't forget to get your questions in for this weeks Inquisition.

Scarlett's Kitchen

I've been a quiet little puss, now haven't I? I have a damn good reason people!

I've got a pinched nerve or some such (that damn tall-ass John Taylor!I still say it was worth it, though.) in my left shoulder. Ok, well, the pain is in the shoulder and decided to include most of the whole arm. There isn't much feeling, other than a sore pain. Plus?

(Male Readers: WARNING! Female stuff about to be discussed semi-vaguely! Read on at your own risk!)

Z was staring at me after Iftar (breaking of the fast) doubled over on the sofa in pain. I think, well, it feels like my damn ovarian cysts are acting up, the asshats. The pain lasts for about, oh, 4-5 minutes at a time. It comes and goes but it is really, REALLY severe. Imagine someone sticks a SCIMITAR (curved thick bladed sword) in your abdomen and turns it right, then left, then clockwise again. For 4-5 minutes. Got that visual? Good. Welcome to my world. PCOS is a real and complete pain in the ass. And abdomen. And ovaries, and back, and... and... and.... And I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. Hell, not even on Monster for that matter!

Now, I am NOT a baby when it comes to pain. I actually have quite a high threshold. Proof: I miscarried & haemoragged for almost 2 months. The tearing pains of the miscarriage where horrible and I WENT TO WORK EVERY DAY TEACHING Pre-SCHOOLERS during this. (I didn't know I was pregnant at the time, I just figured it was a particulary bad monthly bleed is all.) I can take a lot of pain before I even make the slightest whimper. So for me to be doubled over on the sofa tonight in pain is a rarity. Z was staring at me not knowing what to do. Not that he could do much.

Now you know why I've been all hush lately.


OK MEN! It's safe to read now!

I hope I'm better in the morning, cause I'm in the mood to make my famous blueberry muffins. (yummmmmmmm! If I do say so myself!) My pastries and deserts are extra special cause they are baked with LOVE, y'all! They are big and fat and I don't make them in muffin tins. I make them in mini-bundt pans. SO Adorable! (They are the size of the biggest muffins you've ever seen, but OH-so -pretty!) I will have to take some to my friend Aseel. Cause she BEGS me for them.

Oh well, even if my arm is still a dud, I'll have Ari help me out. She loves baking. (If I can manage to keep her and a spare spatula out of the batter!)

Blueberry muffins anyone??????

A Little Happy Happy

Browzing on my usual newsource on the inet (you know, CNN) I came an Entertainment article that made me smile SOOOOO big and I couldn't click fast enough on it.

Yes, I just love finding articles on this subject.

I am out of my mind happy that MY BOYS new album is out. My FIVE boys. The ORIGINAL 5 members of Duran Duran! I'm so happy I could even kiss that little shit Andy, and he sometimes gets on my nerves but makes me laugh at the same time. WOOOOOO. Roger is back. Yaaaaaaaay. No one drums like Roger T. Nobody. I love me some John, cause when I met him? And took a photo? He put his arm around my waist, and I put mine, stupidly on his shoulder, and pulled my shoulder out of whack, but damn, it was worth it. Come to think of it, Nick and John BOTH had their arms around my waist. (I'm gonna go have nice flashbacks now, don't mind me! )

The new album is out everywhere BUT here where I am. Dammit. I've been stalking my usual music shops, but nada.

So, I will pout and pout some more until I get my new Duran Duran CD (entitled Astronaut) and have to be happy for catching the video on the various music channels. (Thank GOD for Satellite TV!!)

Confession Pt. 2

Ah, it’s another Tuesday and that means……… ANSWERS to The Inquisition! I had 3, count em THREE big fat questions (Thank you Cheryl b., Mahmood, and Carrie Jo!) So, without further ado, here are your answers my dears!

Cheryl b. asked me: “What is your secret fetish?” (and no, not about shoes she says!)

Well darlin, for a minute there, I thought you were asking me fetish in the traditional sense and boy was I thinking “Which one should I choose?”, but then you mentioned the shoes…. So, I thought we were taking the safe route perhaps.

Since you said I may NOT mention my little shoe fetish (which you know goes hand in hand with my purse/handbag fetish) I will share two of them with you.

One is jewelry. I can’t physically pass a jewelery store window without inspecting what’s on offer. I love jewelery. I’m always wearing it, too.

Second, and one in which I indulge in quite often? Makeup. There is no such thing as having too much makeup. I love it LOADS. I have had this fascination with makeup since I was a very little thing and it has only gotten worse.

I was doing makeup professionally up until I moved here. I’ve done it every now and then since I’ve moved here, but not like I was in the States. I have a post almost prepared for my blog explaining my whole makeup obsession.

My fantasy is for someone to let me loose in a Sephora that is attached to a MAC store with an open limit Platinum Card and let my buy to my heart’s content. (Did I mention that I wouldn’t have to pay the Plat Card bill? No? Well, I wouldn’t!)

Cheryl b did you mean the other kind of fetish? Well then, that would invlove a silk scarf blindfold. (That’ll teach you to be more specific!) heh.

Mahmood hit me with a difficult one! He asked: “What do you absolutely hate about Bahrain? One, only One!” I do like Bahrain, but, since Mahmood lives in Bahrain, he’s going to get my detailed answer.

Ok Mahmood! Only ONE? Other than the weather July thru October including the crap humidity that makes me the sickest I’ve ever been in my entire LIFE??(Eeeewwwwww)

Hmmmmmm. This one really got me thinking. I have to choose the infrastructure. The stupidly planned infrastructure that doesn’t seem to be put into place with any bit of thought for the future. Then, when they realize that its totally ineffective for the amount of traffic in the country that is increasing in leaps and bounds? rip up the old, useless and re-do, over and over and over again. Do it right the first time, jeeez! What they have re-done for the umpteenth time at Seef District? It is still WRONG. It’s ok for right now, but for, in say, 2-3 years when that other 50-something story building goes up and all the rest of the office buildings that are planned? It will be the mini-me of the Diplomatic Area, new flyovers or not. RE DO roads AGAIN!

I’d like to slap around the genuis that did the planning on the Diplomatic Area too.(Sorry if that was a relative of yours, pal, but come on, it’s bad and you know it!) (Parking? HAH! What’s that?)Teeny one way streets that people drive 2 directions down anyway?The Sitra Bridge is a nightmare most times of day. *shudder*. They’ve been talking about making it bigger for how many years now?? I will say that the new highways are nice though. My infrastructure rant includes lack of proper drainage for when it actually rains and everywhere is flooded.

My sweetie Carrie Jo inquired: “ What was your favorite childhood stuffed animal or blankie and do you still have it?”

Okeedokee Carrie Jo, When I was very little I had a few fave stuffed animals. I had a little red weiner dog wearing a yellow vest and a green hat that for some stupid reason I named Toby after my Nana’s dog Toby that hated everyone but my Nana and my Dad and always tried to take a piece out of my ass. I was terrified of that little shit dog. But my Toby always took naps with me. Both Toby’s have gone to their respective Heavens. (He could only be resewn so much) I also had a stuffed Panda Bear that I called Ling Ling that I got shortly after the real Ling Ling was sent to the US from China and my obsession and unabiding love of panda bears began. The original Ling Ling (mine) was HUGE, twice my size. Ling Ling died from too much of my loving also when I was about 4 or 5. I was really upset when it went to go live at the Salvation Army. I accused my mom of murdering it if I remember correctly.

The best thing to me was my first babydoll, Cindy. I got her when I was a little over 1yrs old. I still have her. (You wouldn’t belive she is 32 to look at her!) She has gone everywhere with me. That babydoll is better traveled than some people.

DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Well, here I sit again, rummaging around on cnn.com (as usual!) and I happen upon yet another enthralling article….

‘Esquire Magazine Names Sexiest Woman’

Guess who it is? The title of this post should give you a big hint, really. No 1 is……………………. *drumroll*

Angelina Jolie. Big shocker there. (Not!) Esquire boys???? DUHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

These dorks at Esquire had to hold a POLL to figure this out! In all honesty, they could have just asked me. I would have been happy to tell them! Hell, I think she is PERFECT, elegant and gorgeous, if a little bit freaky. Ok, a lot freaky. I could stare at her for HOURS and I’m so very straight. I told Z last night as a matter of fact, “Hell, if there was someone to make me go lesbian, it would be Angelina!” He laughed and said “I don’t blame you.

Hallie Berry (aka “I’m a woman of color, but I neglected to mention that my mama is white as homogenized milk y’all!) was no 2. Did ANYONE see Ms Hallie in Monsters Ball? The part she won the OSCAR for? Good Lord. I can’t look at her the same anymore. Nope. Not after those s*x scenes with BillyBob (Ex-hubby of No 1). I was staring in open mouthed shock during the whole thing and all I could say to Z was….. “Gee, I’m so happy she won an Oscar for…. this!!”. Man, takes the term “cat in heat” to a whole another level. Maybe I’m blind, but I didn’t see ANY body patch on either of em in that love scene. Dayum.

Some dorks managed to get Britney Spears Federline in at no 3. Ewwwwww. She was cute, but now? She’s just po white trash. (Filthy rich, yes, but still po’) Don’t believe me? Check out SNARKYWOOD! (It is FANFUC*INGTABULOUS) I highly recommend this site!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On another note… keep those questions coming! Cheryl b, as usual, has made me delve deep into my psyche (or something). You all still have some time to get your question in.

Cat, ARE YOU ON YOUR FAMOUS 12-hour shift? Ugh. Yes, you get a tardy slip. Get your question in when you can.

Answers tomorrow.

The Inquisition – Pt 2

Yes my lovelies, it’s that time of the week again. Time to ask me whatever your little hearts desire.

Sorry I didn’t get this posted earlier, but you see, I had a really, REALLY bad migraine. There was no way in HELL I was going to even attempt to look at the computer screen. Nuh-uh. Anyhooo, I am properly medicated now, (I think) so the pickaxe to the brain stabbing pain is under control and only a painfully sore noggin remains. Lets hope the pain med doesn’t wear off too soon, hmmm? Ouchy. Who’s gonna kiss my poor head and make it feel better? Anyone? Bueller?……Anyone?… Bueller?……… Anyone??????? *sigh*

A quickie reminder: Each of you may ask me one question, whatever you like. Seriously. Deadline: 12:01am, Tuesday, Pacific Time. Answers will follow later that day.

Come on y’all, impress me! You know you are just itching to ask me something! OOoh Boy! I can't wait to see the questions this week!

The Debate

I was reading Mindy’s blog a bit ago and her comments about trying to watch the debates in her home. Or perhaps I should say the impossibility of watching the debates? Either way, it really struck a chord with me. (I hear ya sister, I hear ya!)Now let me tell you why!

Tonight, while sitting at my SIL’s house (the lotto winner) while she wasn’t there with her 17 year-old-daughter, my very favorite NIECE OF ALL, Mimi, we were watching Debate No 3. Or, well, at least, I was trying to. Mimi and I were the only ones really interested in it.

I’ve known Mimi (Yasmeen) since she was about 2 ½. She was (and is) my girl. We were closer than close. She and I have the best memories together. When she would come to visit after they moved back here, she would stay with us and daily, INSIST that I lay on the bed on my back so she could brush my hair. Minimum 3x a day. She would brush my hair and stroke my head till I was almost comatose everyday for a month or so of the visit. Then the day of departure, be sobbing non stop until I finally asked her “honey, why are you crying? You’ll come back!” She said “Because, whooooos going to take care of you while I’m goneeeeeeeeeeee??????”. Well, this made me start slobbering too while hugging her. Mimi was the flower girl in my wedding.

As I mentioned, she is 17 now and still thinks nothing of hopping on my lap, giving me a great big SQUISHING hug and kiss on the cheek and staying there hugging me, just like she has always done. She has turned into a beautiful young lady. And a smart one too, in my opinion.

Mimi was born in the United States and is an American citizen accordingly. So she and I were side by side watching the debates avidly tonight (yes, it was a replay). Both of us making snickering, rather snide comments about W and nodding approvingly at the things Senator. Kerry said with the occasional “yeah! That’s right!” in between trying to shush Monster from her incessant rattling about nothing in particular, which gets louder and louder. I don’t remember exactly what W said due to the shock of what I’m going to say next, but first, remember that my SIL, Mimi’s mom wasn’t home. It was Mimi, me, Z, Monster (don’t EVEN ask) and Mimi’s younger cousin. (Ari was passed out on a sofa in the living room) W said some typically ridiculous (BS) stuff and next thing I knew Mimi grabbed the tissue box and made a throwing motion with her hand while growling “Bullshit!”. I thought she was just making the motions at the 53”digital Phillips flat screen TV, I really did. Guess what she did?

She threw the damn box right at the screen and got W smack on the nose. I think I jumped a foot off the sofa while shouting, “oh SHIT!” in complete shock while my mouth hung open, eyes darting to the other shocked people sitting with us. Thankfully, nothing happened to the TV, cause once we all started laughing in total shock, 2 seconds later her Mom walked in. Talk about timing!

Of course, we all tried to cover up and not say anything to my SIL with the trigger temper, even though we were laughing harder and harder, cause, really; thankfully, no damage was done to the TV or surrounding furniture (and I’ve been tempted too!).

You all forgot who was sitting there with us, now didn’t you? You know you did.

Monster. Who proceeded to jump up from the sofa and re-enact the whole thing for her daughter’s benefit. The rest of us were trying to shush her and talk ourselves to drown out her yakking. By this time, my other SIL wandered in, and it got so noisy that I couldn’t watch the rest of the debates.

Now I’m irritated. I don’t like not finishing something I start. Grrrrrr.

Hi! This is me. I hope I can get this in the side margin, if not, bear with me, hmmm? Thanks! 

I'm a baaaaaaaaaaaaad girl!

I will freely admit I've got quite the naughty mind. Yes I sure do! So, would any of you care to come do laps with me in the gutter other than my usual swimming companion? Oopsy, I forgot the girls from my synchronized swimming team, namely Cheryl b., Mindy, Carrie Jo, Amy, and Cat. Hee hee, shame on me!

It would seem that even CNN.com is not safe for me to read any more. Lord, but I'm bad. Perhaps I'm just more sensitive to these things after laughing my ASS off watching "Soul Plane" last night. I have not laughed that hard in AGES, y'all. Lookie here, I loave me some black comedy. Hell, I loave comedy, period but this movie? Kicks ass y'all. If you liked Airplane, then you will like this. Every freaking stereotype you could imagine. And some of the scenes had me laughing so hard, I literally was doing the Cyn's Foot Stomp/Knee slap comboTM and wheezing with laughter. I hit rewind so many times, I lost count. The people I watched it with last night asked me to bring it back again tonight to watch it again. Yeah baby!

But I digress.....

Cnn.com is SO not safe. I am interested in scientific things people, because it gives me answers to "WHY?". So, when I read on the homepage about more activity at Mt. St. Helens, I thougth I would see what was up. Heh. what was UP. *snicker, snort, giggle* What's up is right! Mt. St Helen's has a new erection, darlings!

It would seem that the volcano has a bulge growing... a NEW bulge, bless it. Now what impressed me mightily, was that "The bulge had risen at least 330 feet since scientists noticed it September 30". Who the hell couldn't help but be impressed with a 330ft high bulge? There is apparently a chance of explosive eruptions and that if and when the new bulge erupts (although there is molten lava close to the surface ready to spew, it would seem) the geoligist are quick to reassure people that it will shoot vertically this time rather than horizontally like the last explosion a few years ago.

WHAT????????!!!!!!!!!!!??????????!!!!!!!!????????? Lava people, LAVA. Heh. I'm sorry, but with words in it like bulge, eruptions, spew, explosive, and that whole shooting vertically vs. horizontally thing cracked me up. I know, I know, I'm bad, in a good way! *wink* There was NO way in the molten firey depths of HELL that I was not gonna blog about it. Nuh-uh.

Can you blame me? I think not!

PS: Inquisition answers are below my dears. Keep on reading my pretties...... scroll down now like good little readers..............

Confession Time

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned....." wait, that's another kind of confession. Oh yeah, time for me to answer The Inquisition questions you so wonderfully left for me.

Well, you asked my darlings, and now I’m answering. There wasn’t many questions this time around, but I’m still gonna do it next week anyway. (Because I’m stubborn that way!)

My dearest Carrie Jo asked: ‘How old were you when you lost your virginity?’

I lost it at 18, Carrie Jo. Why so late? Well, it wasn’t for lack of opportunity, that’s for damn sure! There were always a couple of things that prevented me…. 1: The guy wasn’t right; 2: the timing was never right even if the guy was! 3: (and this, in retrospect, is hilarious as hell!) A combination of my Mama’s voice in my head saying that it was a 'gift' that can be given but one time, and to make sure it is given to the 'right' person. Well, that and my Catholic upbringing. I was also, funnily enough, terrified of becoming a statistic. You know, a teenage mother. Isn’t that a HOOT? Me, the ultimate infertile. Me, who ended up bust trying to get pregnant with Arianna. Me, who, when I was diagnosed with PCOS at 15, my gynae said "Don't worry about having children! You will be as fertile as the Napa Valley!" , that bitch. Funny, huh? Also remember, when I was a teenager, in the mid to late 80’s, this was when AIDS came on the scene and no one really knew the details of how it was passed and transmitted, etc, you know? So.

Because Carrie Jo was so prompt (and cause I was afraid I wouldn’t get another one), she got to ask me TWO questions this week!

Carrie Jo’s second question was: ‘How do you feel about tattoos?’

I think tattoos are really works of art, and I appreciate them as such. (For example, I love the Celtic tattoos that the singer Robbie Williams has had done on his biceps and the new tiger or dragon Angelina Jolie had done on her back is beautiful.) Would I get one? HELL NO. Remember, I have a little –ok, a huge one – phobia of needles. Needles and I do not get along well at all. Nosireebob. Nuh-uh. Another thing, something that looks good on you at 20 or 30, probably won’t look so hot as you age, if you know what I mean? I don’t like the way they fade over time and look smudgy. I think people that get tattoos are pretty brave also, cause me? My mom did cosmetic tattoo years ago and the lady that did it, her friend, was completely covered in tatts from the neck down, front and back. There isn’t enough liquor to make me get one. Seriously.

My pal Cheryl b.’s inquiring mind wanted to know if I had kissed another woman or done even more with one.

Uh, no honey, I haven’t. I’ve never kissed another woman (in the way you mean like I would kiss a man) and therefore, I haven’t done anything more intimate with another woman, because frankly, you don’t even get to second base with me without some quality kissing. And baby, I mean QUALITY.

I kiss my girlfriends, but its on the cheek, but a good one nonetheless. I’m famous for my hugs and kisses in greeting, btw.

Wait, does the lesbian that felt my ass up in a club count? Cause then, yeah. Cause I got my ass practically massaged in a crowded mixed club once. She disappeared in the crowd as soon as my head whipped around in shock. (I thought it was my boyfriend being frisky at first!) But it shouldn’t count, cause, I didn’t want her to do it, right?

And also, somewhere I worked some of my female coworkers (friends) were totally obsessed with my breasts and always had their hands on them. They would always touch and grab them if I wasn’t careful but usually they were quicker than me and would giggle like loons when they got past me. You know, like patting a dog hello? Yeah. Like that. They were not particularly endowed themselves, and oh-so-fascinated with mine and how, ‘soft and bouncy’. It would appear that my breasts are amazing even to the same sex.

Of course, as further proof of my shitty luck, it would happen that two of them ganged up on me at once and right then, the BIGGEST pervert ASSHAT Mgr walked in and caught them in the act. It was like his w*t dream come true. He looked all....... happy. This is the guy that used to get off on looking my toes and ankles and (heaven forbid the day I wore a knee length skirt) and growl about them all consumed with lust. *gag, retch, heave*. He grossed me out so much after then whole skirt thing, that the next day when I wore slacks to work, he came and leaned way over in front of my desk to look under it and then said loudly "Aw dammit all! You're wearing TROUSERS TODAY!". Man, did I want to go take a scalding hot shower right then. I stared at him mutely. Why? He was the Chairman's pet.

Anonymous (whomever you may be) asked me ‘Not counting Monster, do you like living in Bahrain or would you prefer to move back to the States?’ (like the way I made your two questions one?)

Well Anon, better late than never I say! Other than Monster (who is like an extra appendage) the quality of life here in Bahrain is nice. Keep in mind that I lived in a very hectic rush-rush city for most of my life in the US, hmmm? (Los Angeles) There are small town qualities I like about it while still being pretty cosmopolitan. It’s one of the reasons I moved here. Another thing I like? Crime rate is extremely low as to be almost non-existent.

But more and more, I find myself thinking of moving back home to the States. I am homesick in many ways. Maybe in a year or so I could move home, who knows? Hell if I know where I would move though! My father is very ill, and he lives in Florida. My Aunt is in Maryland. I grew up in LA, and though my mom is there now, she is planning to hopefully move back home to South Carolina. I have friends scattered all over the country. Where to move back TO is the question! I would, next time, like to live somewhere where you get to have all 4 seasons though and not so hectic rush-rush (but NOT the boonies, got it?), I think. Yeah, definitely got to have all 4 seasons. I don’t think I will live here in Bahrain forever. No.

Lets put it this way; I don’t want to be buried here. How’s that?

Well, that’s all of the inquisition you will get for today. If you have questions for me for next week, that will be answered on Tuesday again, please feel free to post for me either in the comments section of this or alternatively email me at Scarlett.Cyn@gmail.com !

The Inquisition

I have decided to bite the bullet and have a Q & A Session, if you’re interested. (I’m just begging for trouble, aren’t I?)

So, you may ask me one question – anything you wish cause I know your inquiring minds want to know!- and I will answer it as truthfully as possible if it is a question I can answer. The cut off for questions will be Monday at midnight PST (erm, that’s West Coast USA, people!). See, aren’t I nice? Pacific Time. And here I sit on the other side of the world!! You should have your answers at some point on Tuesday. If this catches on then perhaps I will start doing this weekly or some such. I’ll play it by ear.

All right babies, I’m ready. Bring it on!

*if you are a lurker, this would be a good time to de-lurk. I'm just saying....

The Upswing........ Sort of

Well, I suppose anything is an improvement over yesterday, right? Right. Of course, the sudden pounding headache I acquired unwillingly this afternoon kind of blotted out any rational (or wack-a-doo) type of thought. Pain kind of does that to you.

Yes, when you are quite sure that your head will explode into a bazillion itsy bits any second now, you can't help but painfully think "Ah, don't need to worry about problems or being depressed, cause my head will go KAPLOOOOEY any time now!". Of course, then you continue on with that whimpering you were doing. So, I popped some pain pills that usually help when I have one of my famous migranes, shut the curtains in my room so it was awfully dark, (Arianna was at her cousin's playing for the next 2 hours or so) and figured perhaps, just perhaps I can SLEEP through the pain. At any rate, the pitch dark room appealed immensly.

So I ended up dozing off for about an hour. Goodie, by the time Monster tried to come into my room, not realizing that I was in there the pain was almost gone or numbed or whatever...............

Yes, you read right. What woke me up was her barging in the room! She thought I was out, apparently since I was silent as a stone and I guess she thought she would come snooping. I heard a gasp, then the door banged shut (like I needed ANY banging noise at present? Um, no.) For example, the other day, she had me go in her room to look for Max, who went AWOL and lo and behold, I found about 4 things of mine in the process of my Max Search, including my umbrella that I'd been missing. Sweet Jesus, I live with a psychotic kleptomaniac. Freaking rediculous. I mean, I KNOW she is a damn thief, but still, each time to have it reinforced? And no, I can't say give it back, cause even if I have PICTURES of me wearing the thing, or using it, she will say "I bought this such and such a place" or "So and so gave me this AGES ago". Yes, she is very creative in her cover-up lies, no?

Now for some really freaky, yet totally typical stuff.

Still feeling slightly rotten emotionally, yet pain numbed (and no, I did NOT take VIOXX, but something much better and that won't give me a freaking heart attack. Freaks that make VIOXX. BAD PHARMACEUTICAL CO!) My mobile phone rang, and the person on the line was just what the doctor ordered.

Mama. My Mama called me. It was like a balm to my soul. Just what I needed, WHEN I needed it. It doesn't matter that she was talking about 10 times her normal speech pattern, and that the call was only for 5 minutes, cause, she couldn't talk long, just wanted to check on me. Of course, now for the freaky as usual stuff. First thing was her saying all frantic like "ARE YOU OK?" like 15 times. I answered her each time, but she kept on asking, cause she probably knew I was totally full of shit, cause, well, that's my Mama! I just told her I'd been sick, etc..... and all. (well, jeez, it's only about 5 days now that I have my voice back at 100%!)

I still can't belive that she got all the things she said in such a short amount of time. And nevermind that I was balling like a baby by the time we hung up and a bit after. The phone call was just wonderful (and proves that the damn phone does IN FACT, work! woohoo!!) and her voice was just what I needed. (Is that excessivly repetitive? Oh well, deal.)

I even got the down low on Bonnie, poor thing. This also is part of what had me sobbing after I hung up. The cancer is apparently pretty advanced. The doctor refused to even show her her chest x-rays. (So it's in her chest too.) They only showed her parents. American doctors? They usually say EVERYTHING straight to your face. Shit, it must be bad. They are using the strongest chemo meds on her, and in fact, after her second session, she came home later and took a shower, and.... all of her hair fell out. Every single strand. She is a fighter and stubborn as hell, so she is fighting it. Apparently Bonnie was sick for a while, but thought it was just the flu or something. It wasn't just the flu. (Ok, hearing THAT scares the bejeebus out of me, quite frankly.) I am terrified for my friend. All I can do from here is pray for her. I hope that all of you will say a prayer, whatever your religion. She is such a good person, dammit. *Sigh*

So overall, a slight upswing for me today. May it please continue.

And for y'all that missed it yesterday about my "post" that I can't exactly post? The offer is still good. Trust me, it's worth it. Read Cheryl b.'s remark in comments after she read it yesterday! I will be happy to send it to you, just make sure I have your email address. (Carrie Jo, this includes you babe!)

I'm waiting.

Miss Congeniality

The above title would definetly NOT describe me today. Not by a long shot. Not even if you were drunk from a 3 day non-stop drinking binge and high on crack.

Today I am really, completely depressed. Even the little happy pills my doctor gave me aren't helping today. At least Amy isn't the only one taking 3 giant leaps backwards this week. See what a good pal I am? I'm keeping her company.

I've been fighting this for weeks now. I had been doing pretty good up to this point, but today? Absolute crap. Nothing in particular, just lots of things adding on to one another. I woke up feeling pretty bad as a matter of fact. I didn't want to get out of bed and the day didn't improve from there, either. Lunch was a nightmare-for me anyway. Arianna was acting up at the table, and like ANY responsible mother, I was trying to instruct her on proper behaviour. She decided to take issue and argue the point with me instead of just doing as instructed. It became a debate over table manners with no mediator. Rule No 1: Do not argue with Mom. Especially about ettiquite, cause I don't hold with an overly arguementative 10 year old, sorry. Instead of backing me up, Z told ME "Can you just shut up? I don't want to hear any talking during lunch."

Yes, go on, imagine my gaping look of shock. I'll wait for you.............. Done? Ok.

Before ANY of you say it, yes, he screwed up on a multitude of levels. 1: degraded me in front of the child when I was trying not only to teach her something but also to make a point. 2, by degrading me in front of her by asking ME to shut it and not talk, he took HER SIDE and that is just... WRONG.2.5: by dissing me in front of her, disrespecting me in front of Arianna, the child will wonder "Why should I respect her, even DAD doesn't". Trust me, MY kid will totally rationalize that. 3: For Chrissake, if she has poor tablemanners what will people say? They will say "her mother didn't teach her". HELLO?!!!!!!!! THIS IS MY DAMN JOB HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!! So then Monster was running her mouth nonstop after I shut mine and stared at my plate and I finally said quietly and almost under my breath: "if you want peace and quiet during lunch, then you should tell EVERYONE TO SHUT UP, especially HER, not just me".

Of course he said nothing to his mom. Just me. Why just me? Cause I'm stupid, I swear.

Later, I got another version of "Just be quiet and don't say anything" for a totally different reason. I swear, growing up, my Dad was quite fond of the old adage "Children should be seen and not heard". Forgive me, I'm 33 years old and I'm getting it still. ARRRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If I don't hear about an interview or a job this week, I think I'll go completely over the deep end,dammit. Why my sudden desperation? Because darlings, this week the Holy Month of Ramadan starts. The month of fasting. Nothing gets done in Ramadan, I swear. Offices are only open for 6 hours a day so that people can go home to prepare to break their fast at sundown. Everyone is fasting and that equals some really CRAP moods. Can you imagine going to an interview with someone who is fasting (no, not even water from sunrise to sundown) so, hungry and cranky, and probably has no sleep, (cause people stay out till all hours all nights of the week going to gatherings and tents set up at the hotels to smoke shisha (hookah) and play cards and eat, eat, eat, eat and watch entertainment.)? Not bloody likely. In which case, that would mean perhaps a whole another month with no job.

Yesterday I discovered that my bank is, yet again, screwing my account up, those bastards. I just wanted to check and make sure they took the money Z gave me to make my loan payment and lo and behold, there was some very strange numbers and things on the mini statement I printed out at the then closed bank. I paid off and closed my Visa card back in December 2003, and guess what showed up? They are STILL charging me a shitload of fees. Then, for some stupid reason, they took money out of my account in the form of a Visa payment, you know, the Visa card that has been closed for 11 months now?????!!! Stupid British Bank Standard Chartered. YES. I put the name. Why? Because they are bastards and I hate them. Can I change my bank? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, not till I have a JOB, because why? I would have to transfer my loan to said new bank because me not being a local, I have to have a salary transfer direct to the bank I have my loan at. If not? They will do mean things to me, like drag me to court where I don't speak the language, put a hold on my passport, and generally harass the living shit out of me. HATE. THEM. ASSHATS.

You know how I know I'm really depressed? When Monster starts in on her shit at me and I am completely unable to hold my temper in. Yes darlings, you guessed it. I went apeshit on her ass tonight. I know you and I know you are all chomping at the bit for details, aren't you my lovlies?

It was over something so stupid really. But I wasn't gonna shut my mouth, nuh-uh. First off, some background. It was over a little water aquarium picture I have in my Guest bath on a shelf. (on a shelf, cause the whole thing is tiled floor to ceiling) Z bought it for arianna, but she didn't want it in her room, cause she knocked it off the wall one day. This thing looks like a hanging aquarium, does actually have water, and has 3 little fishies and is battery operated so that when you flip a switch, the fishies swim all over the place. It's cute. So, When ari exiled it from her room, I put it in the guest bath back in MAY, since this IS MY HOUSE, INNIT??? So, the fishy thing was there this afternoon but this evening, when I was checking my emails, Ari came and got all bitchy with me and giving me attitude as to WHY I PUT THE DAMN FISHY PICTURE BACK IN HER ROOM ON THE WALL CAN"T I GET IT IN MY HEAD SHE DOESN"T WANT IT IN THERE? (she yet breathes, don't worry) I said "First Missy, Watch your mouth and tone of voice with me!,Second, don't accuse me of moving something if you don't know I did it. and Thrid, STOP SHOUTING AT ME, I"M NOT DEAF!!!!!!!!!!" She said "Oh, sorry, I thought you did it. I don't want it in my room. I said , Ok then, put it somewhere." So she did. IN the bathroom, aparently, that she shares with Monster.

Got all this? Good. Fast forward 2-3 hours. I'm in the kitchen making Z a snack. Ok, one of my famous sandwiches. My kitchen has 3 doors. 1 goes outside. 1 opens and is always open onto the L-shape hallway that leads to the bedrooms and eventually, after a left turn, out my front door or to an alternative door for entering the Living room. Kitchen door 3 opens onto the living room. Directly opposite door 2 is Ari and monster's bathrom at the end of the hall.

There I stand, minding my own business and making Z his snack. Monster comes out of the bathroom and starts SCREAMING AT ME with the most horrible "DIE YOU FUCKING BITCH" look on her face and shaking this stupid fishy picutre at me screeching "Why did you take this down from the wall? Isn't it Arianna's? I put it there, how dare you.... why did you put it in here..........shreik, scream.... " with me just staring at her. and that dear readers is when I just. fucking. snapped.

I think I recall that I had one damn sharp knife in my hand at the time also. I stuck my head in the living room and said to her son "DO YOU HEAR THIS BULLSHIT THAT IS BEING SCREAMED AT ME? IF YOU DON'T SAY SOMETHING THEN I WILL AND YOU REALLY DON"T WANT THAT, NOW DO YOU?" Yes, I was loud, but he listens to the TV with the surround sound on and I was pissed. So sue me. He goes "WHAT?" and I said "Listen to this shit! I DIDN"T DO ANYTHING and I'm getting screamed at for nothing and being accused and she's runnig her mouth at me like this? She should ask first dammit! IM SICK OF THIS FFING BULLSHIT!" (erm, can you tell I'm mad? I may cuss like a sailor on my blog, but in real life? Not so much.) He finally heard and asked what her problem was (notice I didn't say anything to her directly?Good.) then asked me why I moved it around, etc... About this time Arianna came out of her room like "oooh, fight!" and I said "Why do you assume I did it? Why not ask your daughter, Z, what happened and why it was moved and WHO did it?" Monster kept screaming on and on about me, shreiking and shaking that damn picture and Arianna finally said to her, I took it off the wall to her dad." Then Z said to his mom " Who moved it?" she said ""Your damn wife, that..... Cyn"(she refers to me usually as that or It.) He said "Arianna just told me SHE did it." and she said "Oh, I figured It did it as usual". He said to her "before you accuse,scream, and shout, you should ASK instead of opening your mouth next time, hmmmmm? Wouldn't that be a good idea?" and to Ari he said " And you speak up next time!". Then I went and handed him his sandwich, not saying much of anything.

Good Lord, but I want to tear my hair out.

Oh yeah, the other day, she was hearing voices and she saw someone that wasn't there. Arianna actually. Ari awas playing at her cousin's house and monster said she woke up and saw Arianna creeping towards her in the doorway with pillows to come at her, then when she got up and called to her, and looked around, no one was home. I said "It couldn't be Ari, and the door was locked when I just came in. hahaha. you seeing devils too?" She said "Only the one right in front of me, YOU." Well damn. Then I had to tell her that HERE, if I get her admitted to the Psych ward, they will pay ME 200 bucks. She better HOPE I don't get desperate enough. Seeing shit that isn't there and hearing things? walking around talking to herself?

DO I HAVE A RIGHT TO BE SCARED? I THINK I DO. You should have seen her face when she was screaming at me tonight. E-V-I-L. A friend of mine dreamt that when she shook monster's hand, that when monster took her had away, there were maggots on her own hand. That is some traumatizing shit to hear, you know that?

Anyway, I got out for a bit directly after to go pick up N,( the hamster owner, remember?) from the airport. She told me a very funny story about her trip. She and her boyfriend went on a business trip together and I have a very funny story to tell, hilarious actually, but I can't post it here, cause once in a blue moon, Z might read my blog and I promised NOT to tell him, so. If you want to know it, email me or post request me real nicely and I will email it to you. (Make sure I have your email, babies!)

There are a few other things on my head at the moment, and shoulders too actually, but I won't actually go into them here. Just trust me when I say, they are big weights dragging me down.

Icing on my cake tonight? I had a record (for me) of 783 Bulk Mail in my yahoo account. Do you have any idea houw tedious it is to delete all that? Cause sometimes? A real email gets in by mistake, so I have to check before deleting. That is a LOT of SPAM, I swear. and then? On Survivor? They voted out my FAVORITE Player. The hot one, the smart one, the gorgeous one. Waaaaaaaah.


*And for the record? Z has told me (Cause I know what some of you will say) that he will NEVER EVER get his mom out. (ie I don't like it, take my own options or deal.)So basically, if I stay, I'm stuck till she kicks it.

Bathtime

I guess I’m on a roll about my cats lately but to be honest? I just couldn’t NOT post this little bit of funny. No way. Y’all would NEVER forgive me.

So, without further ado……..

Z and I were washing and grooming the 2 boys and Big Mama Isis. (actually she’s tiny as hell, but lots of attitude) It was bath time. I have to help because, well, if I don’t, he might end up killing one of em. He’s awfully heavy handed and rough with them unless they sit still… yeah, cats sitting still in a bath. Well, Max, my big lug, who, for the record is a flame point Himalayan Persian cat. He is a very big boy. I kid you not. He’s about the size of a partially grown cocker spaniel and damn heavy. His head is HUGE. Big ass cat. Anyway, Maximus, the big dork, snuck out of the house and flopped in the garden. My Persian cats are housecats y’all. These are pedigree, longhaired cats and cats like that and the yard? Make for a tangled mess that I have no patience to try and fix normal again. Anyway, if Max had flopped in the grass it wouldn’t have been such a big deal but where did he flop? In the newly empty flowerbed that is nothing but dirt and manure, the stupid bastard. I think he did this little outing right after he had bathed himself cause he was well, covered in the dirt and it was stuck to his fur. Sigh.

So, into the bath he went. He is generally pretty good. Usually just sits and meows a lot, particlary at ME and it sounds just like “Moooooommmm, oooooowwwwwwww,moooooooooooooooom”. Really. So, Z was soaping him down real good, 3rd shampoo and I was holding him and petting him and keeping him calm. Max, not Z! So then Z is soaping Max’s tummy and then he shouts out ………

Are you ready for this?


Are you SURE????????????????

Z shouts out “Ohhhhhhh Shitttttttttttttttttt!!!! Ewwwwwwww yeck! Shit I touched his penis! Fuuuuuuuuuuccccckkkkkkkkkkk!!!!!*gag, retch, heave, shudder* Damn… gross…ewwwwww…. I touched it….*more gagging and choking*”

This statement, shouted out loud, sent me in to absolute FITS of laughter. While I was laughing very loud and quite hysterically at him and the look on his face… his gagging and retching noises making me laugh even harder he jumped up and started scrubbing his hands with soap to wash them and , oh, I don’t know, perhaps scrub the skin off them? This made me laugh even harder and I started telling Max, “Hey big boy, I bet this is the BEST bath you EVER got, huh baby?” and he was just looking at me with those huge big blue eyes while I laughed in his little furry kitty face and hearing Z say “oh SHUT UP, will you? *Gag*” . I couldn’t stop though, I just couldn’t.

Come on, do you really blame me?

Testing, Testing……..

I was kind of worried there for a while. I keep finding myself checking to make sure my phone is working. It is getting extremely ridiculous how I drag my mobile (cell phone) around with me. Bathroom tinkle trip? Yup, there. Shower? Yup, close to hand. Kitchen for a glass of something? Yeah, there too. But I was really beginning to wonder if the damn thing was working……

Then Z called. Whew! At least it works.

You know the old saying “A watched pot never boils”? Well, the same goes for the damn phone too! Of course, when it does ring and it’s the employment agency…. I get ALL HAPPY. For a while. Although they haven't called me in 2 weeks exactly. Sigh. So.....

As you might imagine, no, still no job. !@&*(^%%$*^%$^%&

On the bright side though, I got in one of my cleaning fits the other day.

Typically, when I get "down" - okay, depressed- this uncontrollable urge to clean posesses me and then I will, for instance, yank EVERYTHING out of the closet, so that it is BARE, scrub and clean everything, including the walls and the shelves, and then put everything back in all neat and OCD arranged-more so than before even. I do this with the kitchen cabinets also from time to time. But the usual recipient of my cleaning fit? The floors. A big-ass bottle of Clorox Clean-Up, a huge stiff brustle broom, and a bucket of clean hot water and a mop. Most of the house is tile excecpt for monster and Arianna's bedrooms, so, you can imagine the extent of my endeavors, no? Z will typically walk in after one of these fits and say "Oh, Cleaning Fairy visited again, did she?" To the ladies that read my blog, yes, he has survived that smart-ass comment to say it another time.

And where are my cats during all this furious floor cleaning? I've stuffed them all in the guest bathroom with litter, food and water until I'm done and ready to do that floor-last. Why? Do you think I want paw prints on my spotless floors before they are dry? HELL NO! They would do it just to spite me. Well, maybe not Miss Scarlett, my GORGEOUS little mostly red Calico-tabby girl. Fluffball. Scarlett purrs like a Harley Davidson, has big butterscotch colored eyes and likes being carried like a baby. She obeys me like a trained dog. I swear. I call her, she comes. She is on something she shouldn't be, I tell her "Scarlett, DOWN!" and down she comes. She also likes to swing under my wrought iron glass topped coffetable. Yes, on the iron bars, the loon. I love her to pieces. The other day, she had to go potty and the door to the litter box was closed. I was on the computer and she came, meowed at me I asked her "WHAT missy?" and she turned, walked a few steps, looked back at me and meowed. I got up and followed her and she walked right to the door, looked up at me and meowed again, then stood up on her hind legs with her front paws pushing on the door. I'm not stupid, I took the hint.

She also has a Cheetos & a french bread habit, but that's another story. (What? She is also a sucker for peach yogurt. My cats junk vs healthy food pecadilios is well balanced!) To the cat haters out there...... shut up. I love her and her big daddy Maximus (Max) too. It isn't as if I don't like dogs too for chrissake! I LOVE dogs. Remember, I love most ALL critters. (excecptions:reptiles of any sort, insects except ladybugs and butterfilies, and rodents.)

Yeah yeah, I know, just call me Ellie May.

WAND MONKEY THE BASTARD

Remember my post last week about Wand Monkey leaving on sabbatical in December? Well guess what?

He’s gone. For good. Bye bye. Finito. Arevadercci. Adios Bendeho (yeah, I meant that). Aloha. Masalammeh you shithead. Don’t let the door hit you on the ass…. Wait, scratch that, I hope it DOES hit you on the ass on the way out, ya big FREAK.

Ahhhhhhhhhh, that’s better. Do I sound irritated? Good, cause I am!

He left without a word. Sneaky so and so. He just took off. And guess who is taking over his patients? His mentor. The very conservative one. The Dr. I started out with in the first place, and then when he decided he was leaving, he dumped me on Wand Monkey. So. I will name names just so we can keep things straight, shall I? The Disappearing Wand Monkey’s name is Dr. Hatem. Sarcastic Wand Monkey is Dr. Raouf. Actually, I bet if he looks at my file, Raouf will say “You’re STILL not pregnant?”followed by “Why did he do that? And why did you take _____ and what about______???” and I will just end up whimpering in his face. He is older, and honestly? Adorable. His hair is like cotton it is so white and fluffy. He is the doc that did the hellish Laprascopy on me 2 years ago exactly.

One good thing about Sarcastic Wand Monkey….. he is gentle, bless him. I STILL remember the internal exam he gave me when I was in pain, he was apologizing left, right and center and calling me ‘poor darling’ and saying ‘I know dear, I’m sorry, I know it hurts. Im done now’. Yes my dears, I’m trying to find a silver lining in all this.


You know? I can’t WAIT to tell him the specialist asked why he didn’t suggest ovarian drilling *shudder, retch, gag* 2 years ago and was questioning his choices. THAT will piss him off. Heh.

Well, I’m not gonna see him till I have an INCOME, that’s for sure. I still can’t believe Wand Monkey #1 took off. He lives around the corner, the schmuck. Feaking asswipe. I’ve been through a hell of a lot with him. Couldn’t even say BYE?

Now that, my friends, is an Asshat with a capital “A”!

In the meanwhile, I’m off to go googlesearch how to make a voodoo doll of that little gap toothed wand monkey schmuck. Now where did I put those stickpins?????