*Blush*
There is a special blush in my cheeks today. It’s called D*ep Throat, by NARS.
Yes, I’m serious. Actually, while standing at the new NARS Cosmetics counter last night drooling over the blusher, (and, to be completely frank, the rest of the line. Heaven, absolute Heaven.), I couldn’t make up my mind between De*p Throat, Orgasm, or Fire Down Below, among others.
At first, I originally wanted to get an Orgasm, but in the end decided on D*ep Throat. *Guffaw, snort, snicker*. It really IS lovely and looks great with my coloring. Also? I made friends with the truly adorable Regional Manager for NARS! She is GORGEOUS I TELL YOU and, well, so much fun. She and I ended up laughing like anything and lots of double innuendos as well for some of the names! Heh. I’m playful like that.
Some of you might not understand my love of makeup. I have loved it – all right, been obsessed with it- since I was a very little girl. I’m sure it all started thanks to the wonderful people at Crayola and my Mama. Little Cyn was ALL ABOUT the Crayola 64 Colors box with the built in sharpener. Oh yes I was! (And I will admit, I STILL love to color. I am happy to plunk down with a little kid and color for an hour. Yes, Arianna has a massive color book collection, you can be sure!)
Anyway, my love of makeup in early childhood drove my mom and stepmom to buy me cheap makeup to play in and a big ass VAT of cold cream to wash it off to keep me out of their respective stashes. Wise women both of them. You know what rocked my boat? The mini AVON lipstick testers they used to give out (maybe still do).
As a matter of fact, when Mom moved us back to L.A. from Oklahoma (gag, shudder. Sorry Okies!) while I was with Dad for Summer visitation, imagine my JOY to discover that mom had gone and gotten herself hired at the AVON Cosmetics plant in Pasadena? (Well, that and the array of pre- teenage appropriate Avon doo dads on my new dresser!) Heh. AVON for dirt-cheap. God how I love Employee Discounts. (By the way, AVON is some good stuff, y’all! Don’t knock it cause it’s AVON. Lord, they have some creams I absolutely adore that make my skin soft as a baby’s butt, glow and all around lovely. ANEW skincare from AVON, the whole damn line is freaking fantastic. Trust me. I know what I’m talking about and I am so NOT getting paid for this PSA.) Some truly fab lip glosses too.
So, my makeup addiction turned into a hobby and also a side job for me later on in my life. I will explain that in a later post, I think. Suffice to say, it is something I really love to do as those that really know me outside of the blogsphere (and some of you in it as well!) can verify. I do it well but unfortunately, not as often for others I would like. I am actually happiest doing makeup. I suppose it satisfies my creative and artistic side.
I have been bemoaning the fact that there is no Sephora in the whole region, which is really a sin and STUPID of the Sephora owners; cause easier money I don’t think could be made. I mean, HELLO? Middle Eastern Women + Makeup = LOVE & High, Easy sales. Middle Eastern Women + Jewellery = LOVE & High, EASY Sales. (Notice a pattern?? I thought you might!)
Well, it doesn’t look like a Sephora will open any time soon-BASTARDS-. (But I will keep on hoping, ya know?) so people like Mindy and Amy can continue to taunt me with their purchases and visits to their friendly neighborhood Sephora. *makes face*. I still love those two though.
I’m sure they will be glad to know that a bit of civilization has come to Bahrain, at least by our standards. Yes, the following cosmetics lines are now available here in Bahrain in addition to the MAC and usual Dept store brands like Estee, Clinique, YSL, Dior, Chanel, etc… etc… etc…: available are: the aforementioned NARS, Giorgio Armani, Laura Mercier, and Bobbi Brown.
There is really only one thing I can say to that:
THANK YOU LORD!
(Can I get an AMEN?)
11/12/2004
11/10/2004
Inquisition Answers - Week 5
Well, here we are again on Tuesday. I got some interesting questions this week. I'll jump rihgt in, I think.
I got a doozy from Cheryl b, NATURALLY! (I love ya woman!) – have you ever been whipped or spanked? (I think that is what she is getting at in a roundabout way. (I did say butt and whipped in the same sentence, didn’t I?) Gawd, was I asking for it!)
No, unless you count the multitude of ass-whippin’s I received from my Daddy growing up for being, occasionally, disobedient. Good old-fashioned turn over the knee and not a peep or you get even more spanks kinda spankings. My dad’s hands are huge, and just the thought of a spanking still at my age, makes me cringe and my ass sting. Maybe that’s why I’ve never been even remotely interested in that. (or even curious)
Carrie Jo asked me - Have you ever fantasized about running away from it all? If so, how would you accomplish it?
Well, this question caught me by surprise since I figured I could toss out all my escape plans and whatnot because last I heard (??) Carrie and Cheryl were going to come here and kidnap me indefinetly? I have had my bags packed ever since they first started conniving together. Well hell, if they aren’t gonna do that *pout*, then I have to figure it all out again. So much for being rescued!
If I had unlimited funds, I’d just book a ticket and passport in hand, hop a plane.
But I guess yeah, of course I’ve fantasized about ‘Calgon Moments’. Hasn’t everyone? Wait a tic Carrie, are you asking for hints to help y’all in your plan? I told you I’d give you my physical address and contact nos!
Anon asked me: ” Butter or Margerine? Nothin but fresh creamy……… Butter. I’m bad I know, but I prefer that, made from milk as opposed to something that tastes kinda like butter made from mostly… um, oil. Uh, no thank you. “Please pass the butter.”.
I had a personal request from Arianna, cause she thinks this is cool, and she heard me singing while typing this so..
My baby Arianna asked me: "Mom, why didn't you become a professional singer?".
My inital response was a very long pause, followed by the thought "because I'm stupid". But honestly? Her Dad happened to me and so I told her. What I didn't tell her was that he came into my life and one by one told me to be realistic (ok, and poked everlovin fun at my singing voice) and I thought I was just being stupid and naive.
Once upon a time I had contacts to sing professionally. I even sang in radio commercials and did some background vocals also.
Ok, now I'm depressed.
Well, that's all for this week. I hope you enjoyed my answers. Maybe one day I'll sing for you.
Well, here we are again on Tuesday. I got some interesting questions this week. I'll jump rihgt in, I think.
I got a doozy from Cheryl b, NATURALLY! (I love ya woman!) – have you ever been whipped or spanked? (I think that is what she is getting at in a roundabout way. (I did say butt and whipped in the same sentence, didn’t I?) Gawd, was I asking for it!)
No, unless you count the multitude of ass-whippin’s I received from my Daddy growing up for being, occasionally, disobedient. Good old-fashioned turn over the knee and not a peep or you get even more spanks kinda spankings. My dad’s hands are huge, and just the thought of a spanking still at my age, makes me cringe and my ass sting. Maybe that’s why I’ve never been even remotely interested in that. (or even curious)
Carrie Jo asked me - Have you ever fantasized about running away from it all? If so, how would you accomplish it?
Well, this question caught me by surprise since I figured I could toss out all my escape plans and whatnot because last I heard (??) Carrie and Cheryl were going to come here and kidnap me indefinetly? I have had my bags packed ever since they first started conniving together. Well hell, if they aren’t gonna do that *pout*, then I have to figure it all out again. So much for being rescued!
If I had unlimited funds, I’d just book a ticket and passport in hand, hop a plane.
But I guess yeah, of course I’ve fantasized about ‘Calgon Moments’. Hasn’t everyone? Wait a tic Carrie, are you asking for hints to help y’all in your plan? I told you I’d give you my physical address and contact nos!
Anon asked me: ” Butter or Margerine? Nothin but fresh creamy……… Butter. I’m bad I know, but I prefer that, made from milk as opposed to something that tastes kinda like butter made from mostly… um, oil. Uh, no thank you. “Please pass the butter.”.
I had a personal request from Arianna, cause she thinks this is cool, and she heard me singing while typing this so..
My baby Arianna asked me: "Mom, why didn't you become a professional singer?".
My inital response was a very long pause, followed by the thought "because I'm stupid". But honestly? Her Dad happened to me and so I told her. What I didn't tell her was that he came into my life and one by one told me to be realistic (ok, and poked everlovin fun at my singing voice) and I thought I was just being stupid and naive.
Once upon a time I had contacts to sing professionally. I even sang in radio commercials and did some background vocals also.
Ok, now I'm depressed.
Well, that's all for this week. I hope you enjoyed my answers. Maybe one day I'll sing for you.
11/08/2004
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!
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!
11/07/2004
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!
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!
11/05/2004
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*
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*
11/04/2004
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?
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?
11/03/2004
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!
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!
11/02/2004
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.
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.
10/31/2004
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!
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!
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!
10/29/2004
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."
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."
10/28/2004
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.
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.
10/26/2004
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.
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.
10/25/2004
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!!!!
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!!!!
10/24/2004
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!!
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!!
10/22/2004
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.
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??????
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??????
10/20/2004
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!!)
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!!)
10/19/2004
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.
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.
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.
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