- Late bloomers
- That someone actually let a 2002 Charles Shaw Merlot (aka Two Buck Chuck) age this long and it’s pretty tasty
- An at least semi-functional apostrophe/quote key
- I’ve got nothing else, have a visual of number one above instead.
Monthly Archives: September 2010
GiST
- Our house filled (but not overfilled) with friends and family to help us celebrate our five years.
- That they brought so much booze we may have to have another party to consume it all.
- Having family photos taken for the first time in six years.
- Seeing my siblings happily paired with their significant others.
- My brother and his girlfriend are thinking of getting a dog and it is sure to be hilariously named.
Knock on it.
Yes, today is our anniversary. Five whole years of legality. So, I always like to browse the lists of traditional and modern lists of the gifts that are slated for each year of wedded bliss. Not that I expect gifts; we have everything we really need and I really don’t want for much. Just because they’re funny. Five years in the modern list is silverware. Traditional is….wood. I’ll give you some wood, alright. And I bet you’ll give it right back.
I’m sorry, but it just had to be done. Heehee.
What didn’t really have to be done, but was anyway, was this:
Awww, how purty! And they smell good too. And then tonight, sushi! And then tomorrow, party! Yay! Go, us.
Five
And it was good.
Ready, Set, Walk! Even virtually!
I know we’re all just flummoxed as to what to do with all the extra money we have laying around (sarcasm skills intact, woohoo!), but if you do happen to be feeling extra flush or just plain generous, please consider funneling some funds toward RESOLVE‘s Walk of Hope happening later this month in Atlanta. As Julie so kindly outlined, RESOLVE is an important force in the continuing advocacy efforts on many aspects of infertility, such as fighting measures at state level intended to:
- limit the number of embryos to be transferred during IVF;
- ban cryopreservation of embryos;
- ban embryonic stem cell research;
- ban compensation for gamete and embryo donors;
- require reporting of fertility patients’ miscarriages to state governments;
- authorize the release of fertility patients’ medical information to any “public or private entities for statistical, research or educational purposes” — i.e., for any reason at all; and
- define a fertilized egg as a person.
It’s good work they’re doing. Beyond the heartache that goes with actually being in the trenches of dealing with infertility, there are political considerations that must be paid attention so we don’t lose ground. There are many out there who would take away what progress has been made and send us back to the dark ages. While I hope this is not a realm of issues that will be personally important to you or yours, it always takes support from those outside looking in.
Plus, Julie is witty. Goooooo, Team No, YOU Relax!
It will, indeed.
Lovely
I think this is sweet. I am lucky to have lovely people with whom to surround myself, because I’m not good at being alone. I don’t think it’s good for me, frankly, but it is also a necessary skill. Regardless, I think this is good advice.
via kottke.org
Bravery, Continued
I don’t expect this to be too useful to most of you reading here, but I have added a link in the sidebar to Stirrup Queens‘ giant blogroll, also known as “the Stirrup Queen’s Completely Anal List of Blogs That Proves That She Really Missed Her Calling as a Personal Organizer.” It’s an amazing resource, but not only that. It’s served me and many others as a way to confirm that we aren’t alone, as a way to make connections with others who’ve had similar experiences. It’s amazing to read through posts by women I’ve never met and realize, that crazy thought? I’m not the only one who’s had it. I think it’s great that these women (and men!) are brave enough to share their journeys with others. I’ve read many of those blogs on and off over the years, so I figured that while I haven’t written too extensively yet about my own, I should throw this blog on the pile. It might just help someone. You never know. So, I’m in there somewhere, I think in the Loss category. And as much as I’ve resisted making this blog thematic, because I don’t want my life or my writing to revolve around this issue, for those that come here from there I think I’m going to summarize that history on a separate page, like the About page. If I’m honest that first miscarriage is why I started blogging here, so there is really no good reason to hide it. Shit happens, and we know this. It’s a lot easier to deal with when you know you’re not alone in dealing with it.
I hate today.
For more than the obvious reasons. Yes, what happened in NYC nine years ago was awful and tragic and certainly worth remembering, to a certain extent. I can’t even give that whole Koran burning thing the time of day, it’s just so moronic. I almost wish I had a more “patriotic” bent (I guess nationalistic would be a better word) so I could somehow focus on that instead of my own selfish flashback to four years ago. I didn’t even start this blog until November of 2006, but what I experienced on 9/11/06 was the real impetus. So here’s a repost from December 2006, when I finally got brave enough to say outside my own home what was breaking my heart.
I don’t want to ride this rollercoaster again in June, so fuck it. How to lose two months and seven pounds without even trying: 9/9: Get really excited about having real sushi and sake for the first time, even if it is with the people that get on your nerves with their ‘we have so much more money than you so we must be so much better than you’ attitude. Think, ‘hmmm….maybe I should take a pregnancy test, just in case, before I go eating raw fish and pounding sake.’ Do so. Do not believe your eyes. Feel like you’re 14. Sit down, start shaking. Realize that last weekend you sat around a fire drinking four beers and smoking cigarettes. Feel sick. Get dressed, go to dinner. Try not to give yourself away by sticking your pinky finger in PM’s sake and ordering only cooked items. Fail miserably. Be informed that you’re fooling nobody by not smoking, not drinking, and oh, we’re being ‘too nice’ to each other. That one’s my favorite. Sleep fitfully. Freak out about work. Try not to think that this just isn’t going to work out well. Try to have faith. Try not to get too excited. Try way too fucking hard to function. 9/11: Wake up bleeding. Take another test. Be really confused. Call off, call the doctor, try to put up your feet and relax, but realize there’s nothing on TV but 9/11 tributes, so cry all day. 9/12: Go to the doctor, give blood. Go to work, tell boss. Vaguely hear something about PPE and try not to throw up. Google ‘hcg’ repeatedly despite knowing damn well it’s not a party trick and I can’t MAKE the number double. 9/14: Give more blood. Get bad news. Go home and proceed directly to totally but very uncomfortably numb. *********************************************************************************** Feel much better after writing this.
Mmmmmmmmmmmm!
I’m not really a movie person. Something ADD in me prefers smaller doses than circa two hours (because anything resolved in that dosage is bound to disappoint?), but the addictive personality in me wants stories that go on longer, constant cliffhangers, as in teevee shows. I like to expect something yet to come, or something. And sequels generally suck. But THIS? Oh. Emmmmm. Geeeeeee. Even being a romcom chick flick, which I really usually can’t stand, even though Mike calls them Amy Movies (ew), I think this will call for popcorn and a big screen. Yes, definitely. (Stealing pics from my new plaid pants.)
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| Yeah, I could pretty much curl up in that dimple and…something. |
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| Totally gratuitous |
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| Le sighhhh |
Oh yes, also, Anne Hathaway. Who has boobs. So, you know, bonus.
Not Undecided 