Thursday, September 30, 2004

Presidential Debates, and a confession. - Debate expected to be a defining moment - Sep 30, 2004

The presidential debates, as I'm sure most you know will be held in my neck of the woods today (which meant that I couldn't leave work yesterday evening for another 30 minutes, because the presidential motorcade had shut down the street in front of the garage).

Now, I know in polite company it's not a good thing to talk about religion, sex, or politics... but here goes.

I'll be watching, and then afterward, I'll be attending a rally for Kerry.

But, in the spirit of openness and disclosure, I feel the need for a confession.

Forgive me, for I have sinned. It has been nearly four years since my transgression, but the regret is with me just like it was yesterday. Nearly four years ago, I voted in my first presidential election. And what happened? Well, I'm too embarassed to say. No. It's really that bad. I voted for W.

(dodges rotting tomatoes, shoes, and ice picks thrown in my direction).

I bought into the lies. *Sniffle* I thought his administration would be one of "compassionate conservatism" (*snort* *choke*). I thought he would drive the parties together in order to make our country a better place to live, I believed the bipartisan b.s.. I thought he could stimulate the growth of small businesses. I thought he cared about education.

I was wrong, and I'm sorry for it. I will live with this shame for the rest of my life.

I support our men and women in the armed forces (I was a former ROTC girl), which is why I do not support the war in Iraq. I support their heroism, but I do not feel that it should be rewarded by being forced to come home in a body bag, and certainly not at the orders of someone who never fulfilled their own military duties.

I support education, which means that I believe funding should actually be spent on books, desks, teacher's salaries... things that help students learn and provide them with the means for a better life. Not to waste the BILLIONS of dollars we have in a place we had no business going into without help.

I support Christian family values, which in my view, includes the rights of people (regardless of sexual orientation) to marry and raise a family. I hate it when people cloak themselves in spiritual hypocrisy and pick and choose which portions of the Bible they wish to rely on to spew hatred.

I support small and mid sized businesses, and people who struggle from paycheck to paycheck. I was there myself not too long ago. In the last year, my two best friends, my mom, and my grandfather have all lost their jobs. They're still out of work. My husband graduated Valedictorian of his law school class, and he can't find a job. Don't tell me the market is picking up.

Bush's tax break isn't putting food on the table for the working class. Its' lining the pockets of the rich. We need real reform in corporate governance.

I believe that it is hypocrisy for us to claim to be a civilized society and not provide the most basic health care and housing to our masses.

I believe to be a safer America, we must be respected in the global community, not merely feared for being unchecked warmongers. We need some level of respectability in our leadership.

Why, do you ask, have I had a sudden bout of conscience? This need to air my dirty laundry? I think of it as people who gave their "testimony" about what caused them to come to Christ during my days as a wayward youth in a Southern Baptist church. I tell you, with the hopes that others, who made the same mistake, will be able to see through the charade. I tell you with the hopes that if you did vote for him, you may "see the light" and realize he has failed us. He has made a mockery of democracy and a fool of America. And I just can't stand for it. Not this time. My vote deserves more. Our country deserves more. The world deserves more.

Because I believe that it's time for a change. I've learned that Bush is not to be trusted. Not with our image as a country, our security, the lives of our soldiers, our national funds, our dreams, or the hopes of our future generations.

You fooled me once W. It's not going to happen again.

It's all about me.

I have a pretty low self-esteem. When I hear people whispering - and laughing, I immediately begin to look down and make sure that I'm all buttoned, that I don't have a "kick me" sign on my back, or anything more frightening hanging from my nose or stuck on a front tooth. I'm always worried about these sorts of things. Maybe it's a result of being teased too much as a kid.

The partner I primarily work for and I share a common wall between our offices. A wall that I can hear through on many occasions (not that I'm trying to eavesdrop mind you). But our secretary is in his office, with the door shut (rather unusual) and they're whispering and laughing like mad. Why do I have this horrible sinking sensation that it's about me? What have I done?

God it makes me so nervous...

Wednesday, September 29, 2004

I will not obsess. I will not obsess. I will not obsess.

Last night, I woke up at 3:30 with the desperate urge to urinate (which I never wake up for in the middle of the night). After disentangling myself from the blankets, I made a mad dash to the bathroom, finished my business and then felt a different desperate urge, and well - puked. Lovely eh?

(I will not obsess)

For the last week or so, I could have easily slept through world war III. I usually wake up many times during the night, but I've been "out cold." And today I overslept so badly that I didn't make it here until almost 11 a.m. And I'm falling asleep sitting at my desk today.

(I will not obsess)

My boobs, while usually rather large, are now swollen and spilling out of the top and sides of my bra. They're so swollen, and look like a roadmap with the blue veins criss crossing them (although I don't put too much weight into that because I'm so white I glow in the dark... and you can often see my veins).

(I will not obsess)

The bleeding has stopped. I have dull cramps, but they're *twingy*

(I will not obsess)

O.k. I lied. I am obsessing...

Tuesday, September 28, 2004

Is this really a good idea?

Yahoo! News - Mascots for Turin Winter Olympics Unveiled

Somehow, after seeing these creations, I am not filled with thoughts of "Olympic values like friendship, fair play and the spirit of competition" but rather with fear.

These are VERY scary, and apparently VERY large cartoon characters. And they seriously look like they will be causing frequent nightmares to many many people, adult and child alike.

Happy Moments

There is a blog that I read pretty much on a daily basis of this amazing woman in Houston (which I would link to but apparently her site is down today)... but one of the things that she does from time to time is to record what that particular day's "happy moment" was. Sort of a reminder that when everything gets crazy and all out of whack - that there are still little things to be thankful for.

I'm going to try to make it three a day, at blog them least three times a week. I encourage you to do the same.


1. Waking up, late, and still spending 20 minutes just snuggling while M. deleted spam from his yahoo email.

2. The bleeding stopping. This one deserves an asterisk.

3. Finding out that I have no cash with me (well technically, $.55, which sadly isn't even enough to get something out of the vendo*), that the cafeteria downstairs is closed, and being ravenously hungry - only to walk into the employee lounge and find that there are leftovers from a staff meeting today. Never have I been so thankful for cheetos. And a mozzarella, basil, tomato and balsamic vinegar mini sandwich.


*vendo (VEND-O), n. [fr. M.] 1. A vending machine, typically stocked with foodstuffs of unknown age, that no one ever really wants, but which will do when complete starvation is setting in. 2. Really annoying word that M. uses, and that *gasp* I have started to use.

Monday, September 27, 2004

What the HELL is this?????

O.k. CD 22. I took clomid (100 mg.) this cycle days 1-5. This evening, I got home - went to the bathroom and I have bright red spotting. LOTS of it. I had a positive OPK on Day 15 and 16 - so only 7 days ago.

WTF? I am so tired of feeling broken. I don't understand. This is going to be the shortest cycle I've ever had. I don't understand. Why is it so f'ing hard.

I am so upset.

Updated to say: Well, the bleeding is gone (even after *blush* a little morning action). It was just internal, and turned light brown last night and vanished into thin air about as quickly as it showed up.

I'm not sure what to make of it still, as while I do typically spot before my period comes in full force, it's never this early. And if the other two cycles I had on clomid were of any indication, I should be expecting a longer, not shorter cycle.

I had low dull cramps for a while last night, and my breasts are very sore (similar to usual PMS symptoms) so I guess it's just a waiting game for now.

Sigh. I think my own personal version of hell would be to have to wait in an endless line.


Um.... maybe being forced to sit in the house and watch the news all day has me all confused, but has anyone else noticed that Pfc. Lynndie England (of Abu Grahib (sp?) scandal) and Scott Peterson (of likely butchering Laci Peterson scandal) look eerily similar? I mean I could easily believe they could be siblings...

Maybe I'm just overloaded on CNN.

Searching for Utopia

O.k., well maybe not Utopia, but somewhere different than where we are right now. So I need help from you, dear readers. M. and I spent some time outlining what is important to us, and here's what we've come up with:

My requirements:

- must have long gardening/growing season

[Reasoning: I love having flowers and a lush garden, but I miss being able to grow things that I truly love, like tulips, daffodils, roses & irises]

- needs to have seasonal weather

[As I’ve mentioned before, I love fall & spring, and while the weather here is amazing, all year long, there’s not really any ‘seasons’. And I’d like to be able to see leaves change colors, and even snow on occasion. My first year here, when I went to pick up a Christmas tree, there was someone there picking one out in a bikini top and cut offs.]

- want older neighborhoods with “character”

[I like big, old houses, with quirky features and giant porches]

- must have cultural/arts opportunities

[Museums, art galleries, music festivals, something]

- must have reasonable access to airport (either in city, or within 1-2 hour driving distance)

M’s requirements:

- no more than occasional temperature dips below 20 degrees.

[M. hates cold weather with a passion, and he literally gets respiratory illnesses all the time when it’s cold – so we’d like to avoid it as much as possible.]

- not so much horrible traffic.

[the traffic here is unbelievable. It routinely takes me 1 ½ hours to drive to work – ONE WAY]

- must have some sort of sports (be it major/minor leagues or NCAA)

[He loves baseball (major & minor league), football (I like hockey) and he would watch college sports if there was nothing else, but he’s pretty adamant that there is some sort of sports activity)]

- somewhat “nice” people

[While I realize that there are nice (& not so nice) people everywhere, we’ve had a number of unbelievably horrific experiences here.]

- needs to either be coastal town or have large lake/river system nearby

[He loves to fish, and really loves the ocean, but would settle for a lake]

- no mountains

[He’s not terribly fond of mountains (sigh – I love them), but the whole cold factor is also an issue, and we’re used to living at sea level].

Both of us:

- must have reasonable/low crime rate
- must have good schools (whether private or public)
- must have reasonable career/job opportunities
- must have reasonable home costs.

So with our "demands" does anyone have any suggestions as to what city we should start sending out resumes?


Well, I'm thankful to say that we're safe. We managed to make it through Jeanne rather unscathed, and only lost electricity briefly. Our windows are boarded up, so our house is pitch black, but it's sort of comforting to be in my artificially created "cave". Since we've been through so many hurricanes this year, I'm not sure that I'm taking them down. Maybe I'll be like the idiot around the corner who leaves their christmas lights up all year. The sight of icicle lights in Florida is ridiculous in and of itself, and that's when it's cold outside. In July with humidity hovering at 90% and temps just as high, it's a little too much for me to bear. (I've been threatening to slice the wires in the hope that they will actually take them down, but I'm too chicken to actually follow through with it).

The great thing about all this attention to the hurricane is that I haven't been paying much attention to my cycle. I'm already on day 22. Wow. To think that I'm so close to knowing is making me giddy. But to be honest, I don't feel like it happened this month. It's as if we've been trying for so long that I just don't believe it's going to happen. ever.

M. and I are seriously thinking about relocating to a different part of the country (and not just because of the hurricanes, although admittedly that may have spurred us into seriously considering it). But most firms require that you work for a full year before you are given paid maternity leave. I've already put my time in at my current job, so our hope was to have a child while we were still here as I have three months paid leave off. But, I'm not sure that it will ever happen, so who knows. We toyed around yesterday, since it was storming out, looking at cost of living indexes, average temperatures and housing prices. We listed out all the "musts" and the "preferrable" things that a place has to have for us to consider it. And we're sort of stuck, as I'm sure this place doesn't exist. (I may post our lists in another post this afternoon and ask for your help in finding our utopia).

Thursday, September 23, 2004


If it's Monday, where I live, chances are that a hurricane is coming. I've been here four years now, and while there have been a few mild tropical storms, there's been nothing substantial to speak of. I've been extremely lucky thus far. But geez. Just when we thought we were out of harm's way - here comes Jeanne again... knocking at our door. I'm not expecting it to come near me, but it appears, as of the 11 o'clock advisory that it's headed to make landfall basically in the same exact path that Hurricane Frances did. I feel so bad for those people.

So, for all my bitching and moaning the last few days, I thought I would just take a few moments to think about ten ordinary everyday things that I'm thankful for.

1. The inventor of pop tarts. Now, don't get me wrong, I realize that these have absolutely no nutritional value whatsoever, but my husband loves them, so I buy them. And I recently tried one, and was amazed at it's blueberry frosted goodness. All hail the pop tart! (M. was in charge of breakfast today - can you tell?) Yes, I realize they're disgusting. but it's a good disgusting.

2. The beginning of Autumn. I love fall clothes.... the warm woolen skirts, knee boots, sweaters - ahhhhh can you say cashmere? I love it all... Unfortunately, I do not even own a proper coat, as I don't travel much, and it's only really cool enough here to wear a jacket maybe a week out of the year. So today - I have on a cute woolen skirt, and my black leather boots, and I have the air cranked down to 65 in my office. Ahhh... welcome to Fall, Miami style!

3. Roses. There's some guy who comes into my office every Thursday and sells 13 roses for $5. So my splurge for the day - a set of lavender and a set of creamy yellow roses with blushed red tips. So what if I threw my lunch money out of the window! I love flowers, all kinds - all colors. If I had a midlife crisis and changed careers, I'd be a florist or horticulturist. And interestingly enough, it's incredibly difficult to grow roses in S. Fla. And I can't have irises or glads either...

4. Turbinado sugar. True, I'm usually an equal/splenda gal for my coffee but today I was bad and put turbinado sugar in my coffee (a.k.a. sugar in the raw), and y.u.m.m.y.

5. Burt's Bees lemon butter cuticle cream. My husband swore by this stuff, and I started using it and oh. my. god. I love it. I have the worst cuticles ever (with hangnails that could impale someone) and this lemony goodness goes with me everywhere. In fact, when my purse/car was stolen, the thieves managed to rack up a total of four tins of the stuff. One in my briefcase, two in my purse, my center console, and one in the glove compartment.

6. Organizations that send me return address labels in the hopes that I will send them money or contribute to their cause. Somehow I managed to get on some "schmuck who donates a lot to charity list" and now I have enough return address labels to last me the next forty years. My husband and I laugh that we get them almost every day... sometimes more than one set a day.

7. M.'s cat (well, technically, the cat was mine - for about two years prior to our entry into marital bliss - but the cat isn't incredibly fond of me... and by that I mean he tolerates me. barely). - who actually let me snuggle him last night for six whole minutes before M. walked into the bedroom and caught us, whereupon the cat promptly sprinted out of the room.

8. Pogo crossword puzzles. I love crossword puzzles, but the only problem is I generally stink at them. M. and I have a little ritual though, that we lay in bed and do the crossword puzzle of the day together (it tells you if you've put in the wrong letter!). This morning, as we were laying there, I said you know I really hope we don't lose electricity this weekend - as I would really miss my crossword puzzle!

9. The ocean. Yes. it is causing me much grief with it's support of hurricanes, but I love sitting at my desk every day watching the cruise ships and sailboats... and watching the sun glitter on the waves. Of all the things I would miss most about Miami, this would be it.

10. the color blue. I love the color blue. It reminds me of warm summer afternoons as a kid looking up at the sky, making pictures out of clouds with my siblings, while the warm grass tickled our bare legs. It reminds me of the flat mirrored lakes that I saw in Maine, and of canoeing down the Guadalupe river.

I think we all need to take a step back and relish in the everyday things.

Wednesday, September 22, 2004

Random thoughts

You know - I really should have decided to eat my tuna melt on rye downstairs in the cafeteria as opposed to bringing it to my office and eating it at my desk. My office is RANK smelling now.

And why is it that I can have twenty pens in my pen holder and not a damn one will write?

*sigh* I need to work. But I am so unmotivated. I just have stuff all pushed around on my desk to make it look like I'm busy if anyone's brave enough to come in here with this smell in here. God - I hope they don't think it's me that smells like this. Bleh. I wonder if I put a piece of peppermint candy in my fountain if it would make it smell like peppermint in here? Hmmm....

Law and Disorder

I'm a huge fan of Law & Order, and it's a pretty recent addiction for me. In fact, my husband literally studied for the bar this summer, by watching back to back episodes of the show. And yes, as I mentioned earlier, he passed - with flying colors on the first try.... somehow I don't think it's due to the show, but I'm still thankful.

Generally speaking, they're pretty accurate about the legal issues/procedures in the show. Sure they have a few slipups in the courtroom where the attorney says something that he and I will both laugh at and say - there's no way that would get in (to evidence). But I generally enjoy the show a pretty fair bit, and considering that prior to my recent addiction to it (and yes, I know it's been on for like 10 years or something) I'm not usually a t.v. watcher.

---------begin tangent ---------------
(as an aside, I've always wondered how non-lawyers/paralegals manage to understand court/law shows. They don't do a lot of explaining of the procedural aspects, etc. and it took me the greater part of my 2L year to really understand the language)
-----------end tangent, back to what I was talking about -------------

But a few nights ago, there was an episode that really and truly upset me. And I struggled, emotionally, on trying to identify whether the writers' intentions were misguided or malicious, or if I was just too emotional from clomid and reading double meaning into it where it really didn't exist. On the show, they had a young woman who was pregnant, who was allegedly giving her baby up for adoption. Only, as you find out throughout the hour, she was incredibly manipulative, and in essence only wanted to bilk multiple couples yearning for a child for whatever financial resources she could. She was basically selling her child to the highest bidder. That frightening concept aside, it was something else that really bothered me.

The woman gives birth in a hotel, and the baby is found by police with her boyfriend after a day or so. While the infant is at the hospital, (the mother is in a different hospital) the wife of one of the couples who was under the impression that they were going to be the adopted parents, went to the hospital and posing as a nurse transferring the child to another hospital, took the child to her own home. She was charged with kidnapping... and was pretty much portrayed as a lunatic. If I had gone through the years of pain and spent great amounts of money as this woman had, I can't say that I wouldn't have had an emotional breakdown of some sort. Kidnap an infant, not likely... but I know that there would be some serious emotional disturbance there.

As my husband shot me a glance - of please don't tell me this is going to eventually happen to you - I pondered how infertile women are portrayed by the media. I know this has been talked about a great deal in the IBC (Infertility Blog Community), but it still bothers me. In a way, I can see how the writers were trying to show that this woman was suffering from so much pain, she just couldn't take it anymore. After waiting for years and years, spending her life savings, suffering emotional heartache, she just snapped.

And then, part of me was irked, feeling that instead - they were trying to show that as an infertile woman, she really wasn't fit to be a parent, and that the laws of nature were simply weeding her out before she had the opportunity to be a bad parent. I don't know. All I know is that the episode left me with a very uneasy feeling, and it made me wonder how those people who know me feel about infertility in general, and if it colors the way that they think about me. Do my friends with infants secretly fear that I'm going to run off with their children?

What are your thoughts on this? I'm just looking for feedback/examples of how infertiles are portrayed by the media. I think it's important for infertility to be spoken about in the media, but I also think that it should be done accurately -with some shred of decency.

Monday, September 20, 2004

Reason number 49758234

why I love my husband. We're sitting at the baseball game on Saturday, and we're talking about what my ovaries are likely "thinking" at the moment.

----- begin tangent -----
Of course, the Marlins are I think the *only* major league team with cheerleaders (and for those of you who have never seen the Marlin's Mermaids (also affectionately known as Spermaids) in action, let's just say that there is no coordination going on there, and that the outfits look like prostitutes who were rejected by the Dolphin Cheerleader ranks. It's bad. No. I'm serious. It's really bad).
---- end tangent -----

A: they're probably saying, yeah... c'mon spermies!
M: No - they're singing... (whereupon my shy and quiet husband breaks into *quite loud* song: We want sp-er-m! We want sp-er-m! (sung to the tune of "we want candy").
A: OH MY GOD. Bwahahahahahahaha

(everyone else in our section eyes us suspiciously).


I remember in my early teen years yearning to be 18. It seemed like it was a "magical" age that with it, suddenly I would be recognized as an adult, and would have a "grown up" life. I couldn't wait to get there.

Although I've given up temping every day, I still chart (although admittedly somewhat half-heartedly) but I keep chugging the numbers, and as I've watched the days turn into months, then into quarters, then into a year, then more, I sort of became numb to it. I rationalized that we weren't pregnant because we weren't having enough sex, that we weren't trying hard enough, that maybe we didn't really want it.

Then today, I noticed I've been using fertility friend for eighteen cycles. 18. That's a year and a half. Wow. And to think that I didn't bother buying the premier membership because, in my thoughts, I'd never stick around long enough to use it.

Thursday, September 16, 2004


I've decided that the problem with taking clomid unmonitored (i.e., pick up your prescription and call us in three months if you're not pregnant), is the frustration of not knowing if and when you're ovulating. The area around my ovaries are TENDER and aching. Sort of a I ate way too much at Thanksgiving and am trying to stealthily unbutton my pants hoping no one notices fullness. And every once in a while there's this stabbing pain in my lower back. Hmm. I wonder if that means it's "working". My first month on clomid (days 5-9, 50 mg.), I ovulated, but not until like day 18. Next cycle, (maybe around day 17, taken days 2-6). Today's only day 11. Of course, I did start taking it on Day 1 this time, but geez louise... I didn't expect it to hurt like this.

Thankfully this time, I had no hotflashes or nightsweats with it, but the last two days I've been an emotional wreck. Bleh.

Wednesday, September 15, 2004

Grief cycles

This past spring, my secretary S's granddaughter passed away without warning. She was around fifteen months old or so. It was so incredibly tragic. She was being cranky and irritable and running a low fever so her mother put her down to nap, and after a few hours she went in to check on her - and the baby just wouldn't wake up. She wasn't breathing. There was no warning... no indication that their lives were about to begin unravelling from all sides.

I cannot begin to imagine the pain and completely devastating grief that their family has been suffering with. I cannot begin to express how incredibly sorry I feel for them all, but especially to the baby's mother. She was very blessed that she had an enormous support network who all surrounded her, and stayed with her through the nightmare.

While I don't know her personally, I hear updates on a daily basis from S. It's so sad. S and I were speaking about it, and she said that she told her daughter to "just get pregnant again" so that she could move on. She quipped that her daughter just has to think about getting pregnant and blammo there you go - pregnancy ensues.

I understand that everyone has very differing ways of dealing (or not - as the case may be) with grief. But, that said, there are certain stages of grief (denial, anger, acceptance....) that each of us goes through pretty predictably. At least that's what I remember from my rather rudimentary Psych 101 class.

And my heart is heavy - for I just found out not long ago that S's daughter is pregnant again (nearing the end of her first trimester).

I realize that this may be easily misconstrued, and I certainly don't want it to be.

Maybe in her case it was best to move on so quickly. Maybe that was her only coping mechanism - to plan for this new baby, to see that there was growth and life and reason to keep going. I don't know, and I'm honestly not trying to judge. All I know is that I couldn't have done it. Not so soon. My heart is heavy enough with my own paltry pain. I couldn't imagine being able to deal with the stress of a pregnancy while that grief was still so raw - so fresh... (not that it ever goes away). I'm just not strong enough. I'm not sure how much more I'm going to be able to go through of my own before I hit my "wall." I'm starting to wonder if I'm approaching it now - seeing the hazy shadows of finality in the horizon.

S. told me to be thankful if I never have children, as I will never know the pain her daughter has. And yes, that's true, and I fully admit it. I will never know her pain. It's isn't mine, and no matter how much I hurt, my pain will never be hers. And, they cannot be compared. They cannot be pitted against each other.

I broke down in my office today - with big heaping sobs. Sobs that wracked my body and made my heart and my head hurt. I don't know why... there wasn't a trigger.... no reason really. I just wish that I had an outlet for my pain - a way to release it - to refuse it's control over me. Why is it that in our society - we have so much openness and frank discussion of other losses? Is it because I haven't "lost" anything/anyone?

While I deeply and greatly appreciate the support I have here, I resent that I have to resort to unanonimity in order to speak about this "plague" of infertility. Why is this such a taboo? Why am I hurting like this? Why am I whining?

I'm sorry. I think I just need to go home. I need a hug.

Monday, September 13, 2004

Tipping the scales

One of the things I've struggled with most in my life has been my weight. I've never been the type of person who has seriously considered myself fat. Sure, I fully recognize that I tip the scales a lot higher than what society says "beautiful" is. I don't however have the need to be incredibly thin. It's not attractive to me, and I think women should be curvy. And I am, curvy that is. There's a 12 inch difference in my breasts and my waist and waist and hips. I'm an hourglass - but unfortunately they do not make clothes for these proportions.

But today at work, I was referred to as "the big girl" and it stung. It stung in a way that I haven't felt since High School geometry class when a spoiled rich kid called me a fat bitch. I felt incredibly ashamed, and felt every seam in my clothes as they strained over me...

But what bothered me even more, is that I live in the plastic surgery capital of the world. And no, I haven't had any work done. I'm 100% real. Sure, my breasts may not be as perky as I'd like, and I've got weight on my thighs that I'd like to take off, but damn it, if I'm going to lose weight, I'm doing it in a healthy manner. I'm doing it with sensible diet and exercise. So this morning when I was bringing in my lunch (fresh fruit and a salad) another associate looked at me and asked, why not just not eat for a few days?

She was serious. Apparently this fasting is her way to keep her size 2 figure. I'm sorry, but I enjoy food. It's pleasurable to eat. And no. I'm not going to starve myself to meet some ideal that society is forcing on me.

Wonderful news

There are times, in the midst of all this madness, that I have to take a step back and remember what things in my life that make it worth waking up every day.

At the top of that list, at all times, is always my husband. He's the one person who can make me laugh when everything else is so terrible that I just can't deal with it. He's loving and supportive, handsome and hilarious. He's everything to me.

And we finally have some good news - at least on some front. HE PASSED THE BAR! Bar results came out today and he passed. I am so incredibly happy (and yes, while I had full faith and confidence that he would pass, I'm so happy for his sake that he did).

Congratulations M. I told you that you'd knock them out!

Friday, September 10, 2004

The Battle of Clomid

Five solid days they marched.
Waiting for as many days
for the flood to subside.
They struggled, single file,
perfectly creased
pristine white uniforms,
through the torturous heat.
Dizziness, nausea,
they were too green.
succumbing to destiny.
The battle was lost.

Again, they went forth.
The numbers swelling.
They cut off the flood early.
Deciding strategy quickly.
Marching two by two, with
perfectly creased
pristine white uniforms.
Seasoned now, with the raw knowledge of
The unexpectedly long battle
finally ceased.
Tears, sweat, sinew insufficient.

Regrouping, tactical positioning.
They waited.
(always the waiting)
Finally - answering the call,
two by two,
facing forward,
the drone of their marching
drowned out their
collective thought.
Does this brave face hide
the fear gurgling in my throat
at failing at our last stand?

Trembling, they beg.
Please, do not have let us gone in vain.
Let there be something to remember us for.
The pressure of cliche.
Is third time really a charm?

Friday Haiku

The field lies fallow.
Silently longing for change.
Please, Hope, flourish here.

Thursday, September 09, 2004

Bend over and take it...

Well, now that I have your attention, I'd like for all of you to first excuse the incredibly crass language that is about to spew from my fingertips. Then, I want all of you who:

a) don't live on a penninsula;

b) actually are responsible adults and take care of things before the last minute;

c) who don't live in a flood plain - or let's be honest here, a SWAMP!;

d) actually live somewhere that the threat of imminent (and continual the last few weeks) ruin by mother nature is not present; or

e) live somewhere that people do not wait six hours in line at HOME DELAY (i.e. Home Depot) to get plywood that you pay $34/sheet for ...

to pat yourself on the back. For you are far smarter than me. I actually (and yes, this is no laughing matter) attempted to get renter's insurance today. Seeing as we managed Frances relatively unscathed, I thought perhaps our luck was running out and we should seriously try to protect our meager beginnings as a married couple with protection over at least a small sum of insurance, considering that our house contains ALL OF OUR EARTHLY POSSESSIONS. However, I am convinced that the insurance companies are largely stocked by people whose sole mission in life is to make sure that you understand what a complete and utter fool you are to even imagine that you are going to get renter's insurance when there is a hurricane so close.

Yes. I am a fool. But it was worth a shot. And yes, they actually did laugh at me. Out loud. On the phone. And I felt like an idiot. Yes, that's right NINE of them did. Our insurance policy - yep. you guessed it... bending over and taking it. No foreplay, no lubricant. Just bend over and grab your ankles.

We're officially fucked. And no. they didn't want to cuddle afterward.

Tuesday, September 07, 2004


And for the record... I lost my ebay virginity (selling wise anyway) this past week, and OH MY GOD am I addicted. M is threatening to bolt down everything in the house in fear that I'm going to sell it.

Who knew though that people would bid so much for stuff that we don't want or need. I'm hoping that it will fund a vacation for us. We need to get away.


Well, Frances is past, and I have to say that we were incredibly lucky. The storm did down a number of trees in our neighborhood, some of which smashed into houses and caused minor damage, but overall - it could have been much much worse. We had a trellis that had bouganvillea growing up out house broken, and a hibiscus partially uprooted, but that's about it. I honestly think the worst part of it was spending over SIX hours in line waiting to get plywood at Home Depot. And yes, while I fully admit that I am prone to exaggeration (a teeny tiny bit anyway) I am completely serious about that. Our electricity fluttered on and off a few times, but we actually kept it the entire way through the storm. That and watching about thirty six hours of nonstop hurricane coverage.

And, just as the hurricane was parting, AF decided to visit. So, new prescription for clomid in hand, I'm sweating through the day (it gives me terrible hot flashes) but I'm going to give it another shot.

*Psssssstttttttt* Ovaries - if you're listening, please cooperate. Don't just sit around and do nothing this month. Trust me, I sat around all weekend. It's boring. Get a little action going o.k.?

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

Worse than the 2 WW

We're in the three day wait now. Not for AF (which should be here any time - today is Day 27) but for Frances. Aunt Frances, Aunt Flo - sounds sort of the same to me. Stupid bitch that I just wish would leave me alone.

I'm starting to panic. I've never been through a hurricane before. We don't have renters insurance. We don't have hurricane shutters. We don't have a lot of liquid income/cash right now. We don't have hurricane shutters. Hell we don't even have plywood. We're petsitting for a friend this weekend, a committment we made pre-storm. We don't have a plan, we don't have anything.

Except that we live a block off the intercoastal, and I'm worried about storm surges, and the giant black olive tree that grows over the top of our house, and the fact that we're in a flood zone, and that everything that I own is sitting in that house. True, I can replace a lot of it... but there are pictures, cards from my husband, family heirlooms - our wedding photos. There's so much to lose... and I am so afraid.

I'm not a big praying kind of person, but I'm praying hard right now. Not just for me, but for the other people that this may impact. Please, if you read this, I ask you to do the same. Keep us in your thoughts and prayers. Right now they're expecting it to hit Vero Beach. That's 130 miles from my house... but as of right now with the storm as big as it is, we're not sure how accurate the forecasts are. We may not know anything more definite until Friday - which is when it's expected to hit.

I'm afraid. I hate when things are out of my hands. I hate feeling hopeless.