Archive for September, 2011


The Help. Have you read it? (this isn’t a book review)

I’m only ~ half way or a little more but I have to say I’m a little surprised with myself. If you haven’t read it, I’m not giving any real spoilers here so don’t worry. But I will say that I like the book so far.

So, I’m reading this and there is a scene where the maid is trying to get into the bathroom to check on her boss because she doesn’t believe her when she says “go away, I’m fine”. She gets in there and finds a bloody toilet and so on and so forth, finds that the lady has lost a baby. She proceeds to give her crap “If you were pregnant then why the hell have you been boozing it up” (Ok, those are my words, not theirs) and  the lady says it’s not alcohol but a “catching tonic” from the native tribe near where she’s from.

“You can’t trust them Indians. Don’t you know we poisoned their corn? What if she trying to poison you?”

Maybe I’m going to hell, I’ve never been politically correct by any stretch, but I laughed and laughed. I don’t recall anything about poisoned corn in school, but maybe in Canada we left the corn alone? Or maybe I just didn’t pay attention (which I didn’t really in social studies).

But what I realized was that I had read over that whole scene and laughed at the black maid who is pissed about the white people treating them like shit while she’s being racist to the natives.

When did this happen? At what point did I get to a place where I could read about a miscarriage (and it was a pretty similar bathroom scene to my last miscarriage too) and not be effected? Just keep on going like the rest of the story. I didn’t think that it would ever happen. It’s not like “You planted tulips? Hey, I planted tulips too!” <insert high-five for a shared experience here>

Part of me is happy about it. That means I’m moving on more, right? But then there is the part of me that thinks “How could you? You just glossed right over that like they were cooking.” It made me feel kinda heartless. I figure only people who’ve never experienced a miscarriage should be able to do that.

Am I healing or am I just so jaded that I’ve started to ignore everything?

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Since the suspence was killing you…

And I don’t know why it wasn’t killing me. Maybe I just knew I was in for another BFN. And yep, there you have it. It WAS as BFN! The tini little part of me that was hoping is disappointed, but the chance of Hubby having actually made it back in time was pretty much impossible. But now I have the whole is this my period playing the extension game again? That was such an awful experience and I REALLY don’t want to go through that again.

So then begs the question, Where is The Red Lady?

CD 30 (ya, I went and figured it out even though I said I wasn’t going to damn it

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And 30 seconds after pressing post she came. No joke.

I had called and talked to a guy about getting my tattoo, what was it, two weeks ago? I gave him my info and we chatted about what I wanted for a while. I sent him some examples of things I liked and the I used the site he recommended to find the font I wanted for the writing. Then he said he’d get back to me.

After a week of  nothing I sent him a little “how’s it going?” message. I get back that everything is good and it’s done. ? Well…? You gonna show me? Then he tells me that I have to book and put in a deposit before they show me the stuff to make sure that people don’t just take the artwork from them and start shopping around at other places. Reasonable, right? I can understand that logic but it would have been faster for him to tell me that first. I’ve only ever done the “go in and talk directly to them” style of things, never having all this back and forth from long distance so I was a little out of the loop. So I finally get the appointment booked and send him an email that it’s done and I’m excited to see what he’s done for me. That was Friday.

Today, finally, I get a message saying with what he’s got for me….and it’s exactly what I had sent him. It’s not even placed how I said I wanted it. The feet are just an exact copy of the example I liked best. I’m not saying that I wouldn’t want those exact looking feet used, but when someone says “so people don’t just take the artwork and start shopping around elsewhere” don’t you expect that they’d have changed things up so that it is in fact their artwork? And the text was just a cut and paste of the words using the fonts I wanted.  Which was fine except that I wanted “Darla” curved around the bottom foot. I wanted to see if I liked the look of it. And I had said I wanted two feet, not two set, but who cares, two sets is probably less confusing to the onlookers.

So I say to the guy “Isn’t that just a cut and paste of what I sent you?” and specified what I wanted in a polite but to the point message. Including not wanting the last “j” capitalized and please don’t forget the “d”.

And he sends me the message “Here I just cut and pasted your message back to you.HA… thanks for the input.” Then, and this is the good part, 30 minutes later, I actually get the full message I sent him cut and pasted back to me. I’m REALLY hoping it just took that long to get through because if he had that bad of a blonde moment while he was trying to be sassy, I just don’t know how serious I’ll ever be able to take him. As is, I’m giving him one more go before I just cancel my appointment and go somewhere else.

And While writing, he just sent me back this.

Are we forgetting that he had me pick the font I liked? Why did he just fuck with that? Does he think that I want swirls because I’m a girl? I’d have picked swirly fucking font if I wanted swirly font! This should really be simple. I didn’t tell him he had to change it, just that he made it sound like he did. I feel like I have to go drawl it for him myself. If I was standing in front of this guy we could have had this done in ten minutes and not two weeks.

 

Fried Green Tomatillos?

And a little variation on my brother’s favorite song for today.

 

Fried green tomatillos? Ya, Doesn’t sounds right, does it? But that’s what I made today.

My older brother and I as…teenagers I think?…somehow became obsessed with trying to make fried tomatoes. It also occurs to me now that we never looked up how you’re supposed to fry them up, we were just working with the “wing it” philosophy. We also had no access to green tomatoes so we were always trying to do this with ripe red ones. It just sounded good. Of course they always sucked and fell apart (or mushed apart is more accurate) in the frying pan.

But a couple weeks ago I came across a recipe for Fried Green Tomatoes (yes you may laugh at me if you know how little is involved in this) and I got all excited. Today was my brother’s birthday dinner at Mummy’s and I thought it would be nice of me to make these for him. But remember what I said about no green tomatoes around? But I was told (via google) that you can fry up tomatillos the same way and that they taste good too. Why not give it a whirl, right?

They were actually pretty good but if you don’t like citrus than you wont like them either since they somehow taste like there’s lemon juice in the mix rather than just corn meal and flour. VERY tangy. Aaaaaand only good fresh. Once they sat for a bit they got all soggy. Since no one in my family had ever heard of these, it officially became known as “fried green armadillos” after I gave up trying to remind them what they were really called.  

So that’s how I distracted myself from wanting to pee on a stick today.

What if…

I’ll let you in on a little secret here. I never see it coming. The Red Lady that is. I don’t really get bloated, cramps come ~ half a day later, my boobs don’t get sore…correction, any more sore. They are ALWAYS sore nowadays (that’s an ass-chapper letmetellya).

So, I’ve been thinking, like I said I wasn’t going to, what if I could be pregnant? Today is that day that The Red Lady would appear on a short (and previously normal just like last month) cycle. But How can I tell if she just hasn’t got around to showing yet, or if this is a time-tested grade A quality torture method like when I added a couple days to every cycle I had and I ended up going from 25 to what was it 38 days or some crap like that?

I have this theory that I’ll only ever be pregnant when I’m really sure that I’m not (which has been the case before). That sound be the case this month with Hubby being gone so much, but then there is the part of me that thinks “what if he did get home in time?”. Because I’m thinking I ovulated right before he came back, but I’m not really tracking…just going by CF here since I just can’t NOT notice that.

And just because I’m thinking what if, you know that this month is a write-off anyways.

I couldn’t bite my tongue completely.

This little rant brought to you by the letter F and instigated by Eggs in a row.

So, the other day I was in the middle of a discussion. Middle in the physical sense, not really participating. Actually I was kinda trying to ignore it for the most part since it was baby talk. Future baby talk to be exact.

The jist: “We’re just going to wait until I finish school and then we’ll get pregnant…I’m going to have three children…”.

I couldn’t bite it back at that point. “Oh really?! You are? Just like that?” I may or may not have added in something else a little snippy but I can’t actually remember it so I can’t count it. What made this whole thing rub the wrong way?

A) She knows my history? Yes, but not the problem

B) She was in a room of at least three women, wait make that four, that have suffered miscarriages in the last few years (although nothing saying they weren’t just “coincidence”). Nope, that wasn’t it.

C) Common sence dictates that you can’t always get what you want and if you make a plan life with fuck you over? Nope, that still wasn’t it.

D) I was just being emotional since this was at the end of the baby shower I was at? Honestly no, this would have done it anyways.  (speaking of the timing can you tell that this has been bugging me all week?).

What really did me in was the fact that she has had 3…THREE! miscarriages before she’s even been trying. Don’t you just want to turn around and say “What the FUCK!? You KNOW better!” Or at least she should.

Maybe I should just congratulate her on her ignorance. We all wish we still had it. I just couldn’t understand it.

I could be a little proud of myself

CD, who the heck knows, but I’m due maybe, probably, likely in the next half week?

I’m sure I’ve mentioned…maybe many times…that out of all my sister-in-law’s (including steps), in the last year 4 have had babies, one is about to pop, and the last one is sitting (not so happily) in my boat (with the added benefit of not actually having been trying and not planning on trying for the next couple years…only fraction of a benefit seeing as she is, in fact, in my boat). But I get to be Captain of my own ship because I’m the oldest. I’ll add in whatever other reason I need in order to be Captain, up to and including “because I said so” and “because I was here first”. No, I never said that I am a permanently rational person because it’s not as fun.

Anyways…

Sunday was the baby shower for my newest nephew (they’ve all been boys BTW) and my Mummy ended up hosting since P’s parents…ok, I don’t remember why, but Mummy was panicking and needed my help. “Of course I’ll help. Just let me know what you need”.

And this is what I figured would come out of this

And as it turns out, that was the best place for me. It also turned out that my help wasn’t REALLY needed since almost everything  was done before I got there, but having something to do during the party (food, drinks, cleaning up) was a well appreciated distraction. I even had a couple moments where I held RSC IV and it didn’t hurt my feeling to look at him. I think that’s some progress, even if it did feel a little detached.

I now only have 1 more to go until the Year Of Pregnant Sisters is at an end. It’s going to be a loud Christmas this year. Any suggestions on quirky things I can do to get through that? All I have planned is making Lutefisk for humour/ sentimental factor and that wont take long.

On a much happier note, Hubby, Monster and I had a family day (I don’t know if we’ve ever really had one before just the three of us) on Saturday and I wanted to go to the corn maze open a couple minutes from our house. This isn’t a big thing with bunches of attractions set up, just a maze cut into a farmer’s field at the edge of town. I LOVED IT! I have always wanted to be in a maze since I was a child and saw Labyrinth. Even if you set aside the fun of trying to get lost in the thing, it was a really nice walk on a beautiful day.

 Not bad pictures for a phone hey?

 

  Just don’t watch the last few seconds, it’s aweful!

 

 

Distraction complete

So the distraction is finished. I thought I’d feel better when it was done, and I do like my room, but it didn’t distract me as much as I was hoping. Oh well. Lets see the before, shall we?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 And now the After

So, who wants to start laying bets on my favorite color? 

This sure comes out all willy nilly with the pictures hey? It’s not the new comforter, just my blanky. I haven’t found one I like yet but red in red doesn’t bother me as much as I thought it might.

 

Minor Funk

Putting in a song that makes me smile since I’m grumpy. The Me First and the Gimme Gimmes version is preferred but I couldn’t attach a clip.

Today was Monster’s first day back at school for the year. Maybe it’s just my mood today but I’m really starting to wonder if I like many kids that aren’t my own. Probably just me.

I had my slumber party with LB last night. Nothing out of the ordinary but it was nice to spend time with him. We watched the Princess and the Frog or whatever that newer Disney movie is called and it was cute but Monster is very concerned about those crazy-ass voodoo masks and why they took the bad guy away and I’m just not up to explaining Voodoo to a 3 yr old. Hell, I can’t explain it to myself! Alls I know is that it’s in the South, they talk in a way that makes me smile and giggle with a jumble of french in there, that there’s a lot of spicy food, and that voodoo is creepy. And that could easily be all incorrect information due to TV.

So, my minor funk started out with getting a crap sleep. I forgot to bring PJ’s since…well…I don’t wear any and it didn’t occur to me to bring them. I dug out some clothes that I have bagged in the back of my car trying to remember to drop them off at a donation bin but never do. I was wearing jogging pants and a t-shirt that were ~2 sizes too small and laying in a foreign bed in a foreign room and it was too hot. Monster and I tossed all night and kept each other up a good part of it. I’m really not used to sleeping in beds other than my own and occasionally at my parents. In summation, I was tired.

Then at school they were doing the “get to know the kids” portion and would ask them question and if it applied to the kid, they’d stand up. What does Monster stand up to? “Stand up if you have a sister”. I tried to get him to sit down (I was the volunteer parent today) and he turned around and glared at me (would have been funny if it were for a different question) “yes I do!”. Yay, for drawing attention there. What am I going to say though? Ya, actually he does/ did but that she’s dead, to a group of 3/ 4 yr olds? No. So I just left him to have his turn, like many other children that only stood up because other kids were too, and I had to have a little bathroom break to cry. Obviously Darla has been on my mind more than normal the last few weeks.

Just top that off with I’ve barely scene Hubby in the last month (9 days I think I got?) and I’m just a little lonely for him. And I think I ovulated today…and he’s coming home tomorrow night. Go team me.

 

Ashes

As I was cleaning up to stash stuff away to paint my room the other day, Monster comes up to me with his usual “what’s this?”. To be honest, I don’t usually look because if I say “you tell me” he already knows what he’s holding. So when I hear a bag crumpling and a bit of a sandy kinda noise to go along with the “I asked YOU!” I got a little curious. I turned around to find him attempting to dig into a bag of ashes. I didn’t want to traumatize him with “that’s your baby sister” but I couldn’t think of anything else to say so I just said “that’s Darla” as I nabbed the bag as fast as I could without making him feel like he was doing something bad and popped them back into the box they came in from the funeral home. Noted, DO NOT leave ashes within reach of a child unless you want to risk a mess.

This also counts for overly curious men that don’t ask before they try prying into things. I had a flashback of one of my friends nearly scattering my dad all over his moms kitchen when she was helping my glue shut the cross I was keeping him in. We got a good laugh at how traumatized he was about what he almost did (only prevented by both his mother and I lunging across the room to tear it out of his hands). Then again we were both a little fumigated on glue and covered in a dusting of ashes ourselves.

Note to anyone trying to transfer ashes independently: they stick like nobodies business and really burn if you get any in your eyes.

So back to the original topic, Darla. How old do you think Monster will have to be before I’ll be able to explain to him who she is…was? Without seriously freaking him out. And when he’d be able to actually grasp it.

I got a call from a tattoo artist (is that the right term? seems wong at the moment) today and he’s going to start on designing my baby feet for me based off a few images I sent him. He recommended the shoulder for what I was wanting but said that the hip is doable too (he had logic that I forgot right after he told me). So it’s between those two places now.