I watched the first episode of Notes From the Underbelly, that sitcom about pregnancy, and I loved it. But I'm not sure when it's on and I never watched it again. Should really try to get back on that.
LOST has been really good lately! Just in time for the season to be almost over!
I have an OBGYN on Friday for a check-up and to hear the baby's heartbeat. There had better be one. I've been ridiculously paranoid about that.
I do not like the word fundus, which I had to look up: noun (anatomy) the base of a hollow organ or that part of the organ farthest from its opening; "the uterine fundus"; this term has been thrown around lately in the pregnancy forum that I visit, and it freaks me out. These chicks say stuff like "My fundus is reaching my belly-button!" Yuck.
Barney will never take up any sort of residence in our apartment. Ever.
Baby Einstein seems like a pretty good idea, though.
Randomly got an email from the Academic Program Director of Kaplan congratulating me on doing so well in my American Women class. I've gotten nothing but As for three terms, so why now? Weird, but appreciated.
OMG U GUYS!!! There's a blog, Claudia's Room, written by this chick who is rereading The Babysitters Club books and gives complete, snarky descriptions of the each book! Think I've died and gone to heaven. I used to LOOOOOVE the BSC books. Remember how each chapter started with a BSC journal entry by one of the club members and it had different handwriting for each girl? I totally did that. I had my own journal and I tried to write like six different girls would. Sometimes the blogger, Tiff, posts the book covers, which HOLY SHIT! They take me right back. And the descriptions of the outfits are fucking hilarious in their 80s badness. Please tell me you all were all over the BSC too. Who was your favorite? I loved Mary Anne and Stacey. Hated Mallory. And when's the last time you read the words "Jenny Prezzioso?" (OMG AGAIN, I think my mom saved all my BSC books! Oh shit...I have to have a girl. I have so many awesome things to pass down to her.)
I know I'm a little late to the party with this next comment, but it's a little scary to me that I'm agreeing with Fox News that NBC never should have shown the VT murderer's tapes. I just don't see the point. They claim that's what any responsible media outlet would do, but I wholeheartedly disagree. Who benefits from seeing that tape? We don't need to see that tape to understand that the guy was crazy. Showing that tape is exactly what he wanted, and it shows troubled people considering similar acts that they too can be famous.
I started a savings account! Fucking responsible, I tell ya! I'm hoping with all my hopeseses that I will have this job until the end of summer at least. I want to dump as much money as I can into the savings (with Micah's help) so we don't have to worry about money this winter. It's hard for Micah to work regularly during the winter because of the nature of his job. He already said he would do whatever is needed to support our family (!) over the winter so I can stay home with the wee one. What I would really love is for Micah to be able to stay home with us, to bond properly. This is all such a big IF, though. I am basically on a week-to-week basis at this job. At any point they could decide they don't need me. The money is simply too awesome to go looking for something that will absolutely keep me employed until October. So I'm riding it out. Hopefully the fact that I'm pregnant will make them less hesitant to send me on my way. Gack! So much to worry about.
Fruit. Cannot consume enough fruit. My current favorite lunch, the thing I never tire of, is a $9 fruit salad bowl, fresh, cold, yummy, from Dierbergs. $9 is twice what I'd normally pay for my workday lunches, but the fact that it's so fucking healthy makes it okay. Many sources tell me that craving fruit means I'm having a girl. I don't know if you remember or if I've really talked about it much, but fruit is the only thing I've been able to eat consistently for these first 16 weeks.
Having a girl would be awesome. As I said, I have so much to give her from my own childhood because my mom decided to keep everything. My friend Stephanie is having her second child, a girl, at the end of May. My niece is a girl. It would just work so nicely. Plus, have you SEEN baby girl clothing? CA-YUTE.
Speaking of which, I was at Targs the other day getting a baby shower gift for Steph, and I happened upon the motherfucking cutest baby dress I've ever seen. It posed a big dilemma: do I buy it for Steph knowing she's having a girl and winning big awesome friend points because the dress is just that cute, or do I keep it for myself just in case I have a girl? I only saw one of them, sadly, but I'm so obsessed with this dress that I'm going back to Target today to make sure. Because I decided to give the one I bought to Steph. I am manifesting my own great karma, y'all.
Speaking of which, I lent a buddy in dire straights $50 the other day. Later that day, I won $40 on a scratch-off. Manifest! (God, that is so fucking new-age hippie of me.)
Just in case you were wondering, my big ultrasound, the one the doctor insists on calling "the anomaly scan," is on the very last day of May. This is the first scan that could show us the sex of the baby. OMG.
Please let it still be alive.
4.25.2007
4.19.2007
adventures in dog-parking
Avery, my lucky little dog, is a member of the local dog park. I knew I wanted to sign him up and fork over the $50 fee as soon as he was old enough and neutered. We've been going for two months now, and I have some observations to share with you.
1 - There isn't much you can do when you notice a dog shitting but the owner doesn't notice. I suppose if I were on really friendly terms with the owner I would say "hey, I think your dog just pooped," but that's still sketchy no matter the terms of friendliness. You're implying that they aren't watching their dog closely, which is liable to get you the stink eye, even if you're right. (Because I am nothing if not way too honest about the wrong things, I rarely pick up Avery's poop if we're the only ones there. I know. Terrible. But I am NOT the only one who leaves poops. Oh, and the one time Avery had explosive diarrhea in the park? Didn't even try. I'm pregnant. I would've puked all over myself.)
2 - It's a really weird thing, the relationship between dog owners at the dog park. First of all, you never ask someone you've never met what their name is, because this isn't a bar. It's a dog park. You say "what's your dog's name? I've never seen him before," basically ignoring the fact that the dog has an owner, an owner that you are currently talking to. How can you become friendly with someone if you don't even know their name? In the dog park, it's possible. In two months, I've only learned the names of probably four owners. I know all the dog names, though.
3 - Referring back to #1, you don't want to look like the dog park Nazi. One too many "your dog just pooped!" and you'll realize everyone is standing on the other side of the park. I found myself feeling like a bit of a rule-stickler though (quietly stewing, not makes a scene), because there's this one couple who brings their two grown Labs AND their nine-week-old puppies, and you know what? That's a no-no. If I diligently waited until Avery was four months (the rule) to sign up, SO SHOULD THEY. I can see why it would be tempting considering they've already paid for the older Labs, but...I dunno. It miffs me. It's not arbitrary - puppies are much more likely to carry diseases and not have their shots yet. Plus, I highly doubt they paid the extra fee for the extra dogs. Ugh. But everyone overlooks this because they're puppies. Delicious, floppy puppies.
4 - I always, ALWAYS worry that men who come by themselves think I am going to flirt with them. Why do I worry about this? Seriously. So stupid. I think it's because my very first visit there, this guy comes in with his dog and I guess I was feeling pretty chatty since I was excited to be there, and he was VERY quick to drop the word "we" in the conversation, as in "WE live just over there. It's OUR first dog." So now I try not to be overly friendly with the dudes.
5- When all conversation fails, watch the dogs. When you try to be funny and that numskull just won't laugh, go fill up the water bowl. When you try to be funny and it works? You actually get strangers laughing? Quietly consider, for the the four hundredth time, that you really should do stand-up.
6 - Bringing Micah is so much fun! I love watching him watch Avery and the other dogs. It must be similar to how it will feel to watch him play with our child. Oh my god. That's still so weird to say!
7 - Avery does this adorable kissing-up thing where he tries to french kiss other dogs. He literally puts his tongue in their mouths, tail wagging, and licks. He usually only does it with dogs that aren't so accepting of his rambunctious puppy nature.
8 - Some of the dogs are total assholes. One attacked Avery for basically nothing - he was mad Avery had the toy he wanted. Some asshole dogs, not surprisingly, have asshole owners, like the husky mix who growls at any dog trying to have fun while his owner scoffs about this and that, judging, needling, picking up trash on the perimeter, the mumbling martyr. Why bring a dog that refuses to have fun? What's amazing is that this particular woman happens to run the fucking park! I think. She sure acts like it.
9 - There's a massive, I mean huge, Mastiff/German Shepard named Bear who tries to hump Avery. I find this hilarious. Avery does not.
10 - Avery is the life of the party, a tireless and perfect playmate. I can hear people getting excited about his arrival as he scampers up to the gate. There's one puppy in particular who gets along smashingly with Avery - he's a seven-month-old puppy named Dox (Avery is eight months) and he's the exact same size and spastic level as Avery. It's like watching a proper boxing match where the contenders are the same size and you think "now this is a match up!" Except the other day Dox and Avery ganged up on a few submissive dogs, which makes me so embarrassed and we left soon after.
11 - When there are more than five dogs there, it gets totally hectic. But I still have fantasies about arranging for all the dog park members to bring their pooches at the same time on the same day. Imagine. It would either be the most hilarious or the most dangerous thing ever.
12 - I fucking hate whoever decided to fill up the plastic baby pool everyday that it breaks 65 degrees. My dog DOES NOT need that much of a cool down yet, THANKYOUVERYMUCH. Avery leaves that park fucking filthy nearly every single time, which is fine when it's dust, but you can imagine the yuck factor after much pool carousing followed by repeated tackles in the dirt.
13 - Ok fine. Watching Avery splash around in the baby pool is beyond cute. I love it. But I can fucking hate it too, ok?
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In Other News...
I feel NOTHING in my abdomen. I'm paranoid the baby died and I've had a missed miscarriage. I'm sure this is a fairly typical thing to worry about, but seriously, I have not felt any twinges, stretching, or anything that would indicate that something is indeed GROWING in my STOMACH. I'm kind of freaking out about it. You'd think I could feel SOMETHING. Not, like, kicking or anything...but perhaps the pulling/rearranging of organs that you'd think would correspond with something GROWING in your STOMACH.
I have an OBGYN appointment a week from tomorrow. I have to wait it out. I'm sure everything's fine and I'll just feel stupid. BUT MAYBE NOT. Oh god.
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My lunch today consisted of one leg of a fresh rotisserie chicken, fried pork skins, and fresh strawberries. My life is getting weirder fo shizzle.
1 - There isn't much you can do when you notice a dog shitting but the owner doesn't notice. I suppose if I were on really friendly terms with the owner I would say "hey, I think your dog just pooped," but that's still sketchy no matter the terms of friendliness. You're implying that they aren't watching their dog closely, which is liable to get you the stink eye, even if you're right. (Because I am nothing if not way too honest about the wrong things, I rarely pick up Avery's poop if we're the only ones there. I know. Terrible. But I am NOT the only one who leaves poops. Oh, and the one time Avery had explosive diarrhea in the park? Didn't even try. I'm pregnant. I would've puked all over myself.)
2 - It's a really weird thing, the relationship between dog owners at the dog park. First of all, you never ask someone you've never met what their name is, because this isn't a bar. It's a dog park. You say "what's your dog's name? I've never seen him before," basically ignoring the fact that the dog has an owner, an owner that you are currently talking to. How can you become friendly with someone if you don't even know their name? In the dog park, it's possible. In two months, I've only learned the names of probably four owners. I know all the dog names, though.
3 - Referring back to #1, you don't want to look like the dog park Nazi. One too many "your dog just pooped!" and you'll realize everyone is standing on the other side of the park. I found myself feeling like a bit of a rule-stickler though (quietly stewing, not makes a scene), because there's this one couple who brings their two grown Labs AND their nine-week-old puppies, and you know what? That's a no-no. If I diligently waited until Avery was four months (the rule) to sign up, SO SHOULD THEY. I can see why it would be tempting considering they've already paid for the older Labs, but...I dunno. It miffs me. It's not arbitrary - puppies are much more likely to carry diseases and not have their shots yet. Plus, I highly doubt they paid the extra fee for the extra dogs. Ugh. But everyone overlooks this because they're puppies. Delicious, floppy puppies.
4 - I always, ALWAYS worry that men who come by themselves think I am going to flirt with them. Why do I worry about this? Seriously. So stupid. I think it's because my very first visit there, this guy comes in with his dog and I guess I was feeling pretty chatty since I was excited to be there, and he was VERY quick to drop the word "we" in the conversation, as in "WE live just over there. It's OUR first dog." So now I try not to be overly friendly with the dudes.
5- When all conversation fails, watch the dogs. When you try to be funny and that numskull just won't laugh, go fill up the water bowl. When you try to be funny and it works? You actually get strangers laughing? Quietly consider, for the the four hundredth time, that you really should do stand-up.
6 - Bringing Micah is so much fun! I love watching him watch Avery and the other dogs. It must be similar to how it will feel to watch him play with our child. Oh my god. That's still so weird to say!
7 - Avery does this adorable kissing-up thing where he tries to french kiss other dogs. He literally puts his tongue in their mouths, tail wagging, and licks. He usually only does it with dogs that aren't so accepting of his rambunctious puppy nature.
8 - Some of the dogs are total assholes. One attacked Avery for basically nothing - he was mad Avery had the toy he wanted. Some asshole dogs, not surprisingly, have asshole owners, like the husky mix who growls at any dog trying to have fun while his owner scoffs about this and that, judging, needling, picking up trash on the perimeter, the mumbling martyr. Why bring a dog that refuses to have fun? What's amazing is that this particular woman happens to run the fucking park! I think. She sure acts like it.
9 - There's a massive, I mean huge, Mastiff/German Shepard named Bear who tries to hump Avery. I find this hilarious. Avery does not.
10 - Avery is the life of the party, a tireless and perfect playmate. I can hear people getting excited about his arrival as he scampers up to the gate. There's one puppy in particular who gets along smashingly with Avery - he's a seven-month-old puppy named Dox (Avery is eight months) and he's the exact same size and spastic level as Avery. It's like watching a proper boxing match where the contenders are the same size and you think "now this is a match up!" Except the other day Dox and Avery ganged up on a few submissive dogs, which makes me so embarrassed and we left soon after.
11 - When there are more than five dogs there, it gets totally hectic. But I still have fantasies about arranging for all the dog park members to bring their pooches at the same time on the same day. Imagine. It would either be the most hilarious or the most dangerous thing ever.
12 - I fucking hate whoever decided to fill up the plastic baby pool everyday that it breaks 65 degrees. My dog DOES NOT need that much of a cool down yet, THANKYOUVERYMUCH. Avery leaves that park fucking filthy nearly every single time, which is fine when it's dust, but you can imagine the yuck factor after much pool carousing followed by repeated tackles in the dirt.
13 - Ok fine. Watching Avery splash around in the baby pool is beyond cute. I love it. But I can fucking hate it too, ok?
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In Other News...
I feel NOTHING in my abdomen. I'm paranoid the baby died and I've had a missed miscarriage. I'm sure this is a fairly typical thing to worry about, but seriously, I have not felt any twinges, stretching, or anything that would indicate that something is indeed GROWING in my STOMACH. I'm kind of freaking out about it. You'd think I could feel SOMETHING. Not, like, kicking or anything...but perhaps the pulling/rearranging of organs that you'd think would correspond with something GROWING in your STOMACH.
I have an OBGYN appointment a week from tomorrow. I have to wait it out. I'm sure everything's fine and I'll just feel stupid. BUT MAYBE NOT. Oh god.
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My lunch today consisted of one leg of a fresh rotisserie chicken, fried pork skins, and fresh strawberries. My life is getting weirder fo shizzle.
4.14.2007
the dawg
Don't have much to say this rainy Saturday morn, howe'er I hope you'll enjoy some pictures of my dog. Because my dog is cute. He's getting to be such a good dog (knock on some sturdy mothereffing wood because currently he only destroys his own stuff and let's keep it that way).
awwww. this might be the bestest puppy picture evah. look at the tootsies and the cocking of the head.
awwww. this might be the bestest puppy picture evah. look at the tootsies and the cocking of the head.
dog eyes don't photograph so well. and yeah, he totally matches our floor.
aww.
ewww. SO CREE-EE-EEPY. That's totally Satan. See what I was saying about dog eyes?
I hope this doesn't make you afraid to know him.
4.12.2007
week 14: hey there, 2nd trimester
Yay! I'm officially out of the first trimester! (Though I'm 14 weeks pregnant, technically the baby is 12 weeks along because they count you pregnant from the first day of your last period, not from when you ovulated and conceived two weeks later.)
There's got to be some sort of shift in this appetite bullshit soon. I've had a few barfing episodes in the past week, both of the projectile variety. Once was after a nice lunch out with my aunt, which really sucks. Even though she saw me practically run to the bathroom I had to lie to her and tell her "false alarm!" even though after we both drove away from the restaurant I noticed I had a chunk of barf on my sweater. I really hope she didn't notice. She's such a gentle bird of a thing that I don't want her to imagine me yakking up the delish salad she just bought for me.
Most women say that the nausea and stunted eating habits start to chill out when the second trimester starts. Other women say they stayed nauseous all nine months. Um. No.
Lately I've had a major problem with my appetite: I don't have one. The only time I feel like eating is during the morning hours, and when I'm at work I'm usually woefully under prepared for this hunger. I try to bring food from home but for some reason I never bring the right things (for instance pudding, yogurt, and cheese when for fuck's sake I need CRUNCH) or I simply don't bring enough. And part of that problem has to do with the fact that the grocery store is my nemesis and I find it really hard to think ahead when I'm shopping. I have always hated grocery shopping. Not sure why. So it's been extremely difficult for me lately because of the no-appetite/constant nausea thing. Micah and I generally trade off going, and thankfully it's all him this time. All I have to do is think of a few specific things I want and he'll handle the rest. Over the past year I got into a habit of making dinner every night, something I really enjoyed, but it's definitely fallen by the wayside because if I can't imagine eating it I sure as hell don't want to buy it or god forbid cook it.
I have been eating very, very little. I can still fit into all of my pants with room to spare, which is sort of scary when, you know, there's a fucking baby in there trying to grow. Or is it? It scares me. Tight pants would be nice right about now because then I'd know for sure that the bean is growing. Then again, I've been instructed by my doctor to try to limit my weight gain to twenty pounds for the whole pregnancy. I guess losing/maintaining right now will help me later on. But it's not like I have a choice. I really don't ever feel like eating. Truly a bizarre concept to me. (Though I will always maintain that the true culprit of my weight problem is severe laziness and not necessarily eating too much.)
Right now I really, REALLY want cucumbers drenched in red wine vinegar. Funny, I always want things that aren't convenient at all. Think my coworkers would notice if I slipped away to the store for a bit? They probably wouldn't. This place is like a morgue and my boss's door is usually shut.
I guess the giant dill pickle in the fridge will have to do, but it's just not...perfect. And my appetite is such lately that I really do need the "perfect" thing in order to want to eat at all.
Oh, October. You're such a long way off, you delightfully autumnal bitch.
There's got to be some sort of shift in this appetite bullshit soon. I've had a few barfing episodes in the past week, both of the projectile variety. Once was after a nice lunch out with my aunt, which really sucks. Even though she saw me practically run to the bathroom I had to lie to her and tell her "false alarm!" even though after we both drove away from the restaurant I noticed I had a chunk of barf on my sweater. I really hope she didn't notice. She's such a gentle bird of a thing that I don't want her to imagine me yakking up the delish salad she just bought for me.
Most women say that the nausea and stunted eating habits start to chill out when the second trimester starts. Other women say they stayed nauseous all nine months. Um. No.
Lately I've had a major problem with my appetite: I don't have one. The only time I feel like eating is during the morning hours, and when I'm at work I'm usually woefully under prepared for this hunger. I try to bring food from home but for some reason I never bring the right things (for instance pudding, yogurt, and cheese when for fuck's sake I need CRUNCH) or I simply don't bring enough. And part of that problem has to do with the fact that the grocery store is my nemesis and I find it really hard to think ahead when I'm shopping. I have always hated grocery shopping. Not sure why. So it's been extremely difficult for me lately because of the no-appetite/constant nausea thing. Micah and I generally trade off going, and thankfully it's all him this time. All I have to do is think of a few specific things I want and he'll handle the rest. Over the past year I got into a habit of making dinner every night, something I really enjoyed, but it's definitely fallen by the wayside because if I can't imagine eating it I sure as hell don't want to buy it or god forbid cook it.
I have been eating very, very little. I can still fit into all of my pants with room to spare, which is sort of scary when, you know, there's a fucking baby in there trying to grow. Or is it? It scares me. Tight pants would be nice right about now because then I'd know for sure that the bean is growing. Then again, I've been instructed by my doctor to try to limit my weight gain to twenty pounds for the whole pregnancy. I guess losing/maintaining right now will help me later on. But it's not like I have a choice. I really don't ever feel like eating. Truly a bizarre concept to me. (Though I will always maintain that the true culprit of my weight problem is severe laziness and not necessarily eating too much.)
Right now I really, REALLY want cucumbers drenched in red wine vinegar. Funny, I always want things that aren't convenient at all. Think my coworkers would notice if I slipped away to the store for a bit? They probably wouldn't. This place is like a morgue and my boss's door is usually shut.
I guess the giant dill pickle in the fridge will have to do, but it's just not...perfect. And my appetite is such lately that I really do need the "perfect" thing in order to want to eat at all.
Oh, October. You're such a long way off, you delightfully autumnal bitch.
4.04.2007
The finer thing in my life
I consider my husband to be a very good-looking man. I thought he was one of the hottest guys I'd ever met when we were first introduced five years ago. I keep saying five and it must be six by now. Anyway, just about everyone who meets him comments on his looks either right in front of his face or at a later time, in private. Especially my older female relatives, which is creepy. My cousins Linda and Lenetta weren't shy at all about telling me in excited, hushed voices, that WOW did I ever find a hunk. (Yeah, they totally still use words like that.) I try to ignore the only slightly masked looks of surprise when people put two and two together. For instance, at my niece's birthday party all of Lisa's friends asked "who is that guy with Gabby?" and Lisa would have to say "Um, GABBY'S BOYFRIEND." Fucking bitches.
Even my MOM, you guys! Micah was working near my mom's office and I asked him to stop by and pick up something from her. My mom told her receptionist he'd be by and that he looks like a Greek god. Yeah. And then she said after Micah left the building the receptionist said "I knew immediately it was him!" My mom told me this. THAT IS SO GROSS.
I worry about when Micah works. Okay, I don't really worry, per se, because Micah is hands-down the most loyal man I know, but I can't help thinking that he probably gets a lot of attention on the job. He work outside in very public areas, sometimes in hot-and-shirtless conditions, and it's not unusual for them to be working near a high school or in neighborhoods just crawling with bored housewives, OR SO I IMAGINE. Sadist, I know. I badgered him into admitting that the high schools are the worst. The girls drive by and yell things at him, the passive-aggressive skanks, and when I snarled "how do you know they're yelling at you?" he quietly said, "It's usually when I'm alone."
So I shine up his wedding ring for him every morning before work, and on a clear day it can be seen for miles.
That was a joke.
But the thing is? I get it. I understand why those bitches and skanks look. If there could only be one reason why I am not, in fact, a lesbian (and never was, though not for lack of half-assed trying), it's that I fucking adore dirty, hot, sweaty, stinky men. I look at construction crews the way construction crews look at women in stilettos and short skirts. I watch Mike Rowe of Dirty Jobs the same way lions view raw steak. Is that wrong? Couldn't care less. I get it, which is why I am wary of it.
I feel very lucky that a man as kind and hot loves me and thinks I'm hot, too. That is just so awesome. He makes me feel hot on a daily basis, which is a first, and also one of the many reasons Micah will be the last. And he's going to be the cutest dad ever. You just watch.
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I keep switching the blog template just to see how I like it. I'm going to keep switching until I find one that I won't get sick of for awhile. Keep mental tabs on the ones you like, as I would like this to be a pleasant experience for everyone.
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I must briefly mention the insane craving I am having lately. I cannot seem to get enough tangy, fruity candy. I say 'insane' because cavities, while covered, are not 100% covered, and it cost me close to 300 bucks to fix two cavities six months ago. I simply can't afford that right now. But it is really, REALLY hard to stop. It all started with a bag of Sweettart Sour Gummies that grabbed my eye in the Bl*ckbuster check-out line. Then the next day at the movies I had to have Sour Patch Kids. At the store the next day I bought regular ol' gummy bears from the huge snack buy-by-the-pound container things. And the NEXT day? Yesterday? I bought THREE BOXES of candy from Walgreens, which incidentally were the exact size of the candy at the movies, only three bucks cheaper. Because they were 3 for $3, I bought 3. Nerds, Sour Patch Kids, and Airheads. I took the Kids and the Airheads home so Micah would eat them, how terribly responsible of me, but I kept the Nerds at work. I have been sucking them and crunching them for hours,and you know Nerds...that box doesn't have a bottom. This isn't good. But oh. SO, SO GOOD.
Even my MOM, you guys! Micah was working near my mom's office and I asked him to stop by and pick up something from her. My mom told her receptionist he'd be by and that he looks like a Greek god. Yeah. And then she said after Micah left the building the receptionist said "I knew immediately it was him!" My mom told me this. THAT IS SO GROSS.
I worry about when Micah works. Okay, I don't really worry, per se, because Micah is hands-down the most loyal man I know, but I can't help thinking that he probably gets a lot of attention on the job. He work outside in very public areas, sometimes in hot-and-shirtless conditions, and it's not unusual for them to be working near a high school or in neighborhoods just crawling with bored housewives, OR SO I IMAGINE. Sadist, I know. I badgered him into admitting that the high schools are the worst. The girls drive by and yell things at him, the passive-aggressive skanks, and when I snarled "how do you know they're yelling at you?" he quietly said, "It's usually when I'm alone."
So I shine up his wedding ring for him every morning before work, and on a clear day it can be seen for miles.
That was a joke.
But the thing is? I get it. I understand why those bitches and skanks look. If there could only be one reason why I am not, in fact, a lesbian (and never was, though not for lack of half-assed trying), it's that I fucking adore dirty, hot, sweaty, stinky men. I look at construction crews the way construction crews look at women in stilettos and short skirts. I watch Mike Rowe of Dirty Jobs the same way lions view raw steak. Is that wrong? Couldn't care less. I get it, which is why I am wary of it.
I feel very lucky that a man as kind and hot loves me and thinks I'm hot, too. That is just so awesome. He makes me feel hot on a daily basis, which is a first, and also one of the many reasons Micah will be the last. And he's going to be the cutest dad ever. You just watch.
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I keep switching the blog template just to see how I like it. I'm going to keep switching until I find one that I won't get sick of for awhile. Keep mental tabs on the ones you like, as I would like this to be a pleasant experience for everyone.
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I must briefly mention the insane craving I am having lately. I cannot seem to get enough tangy, fruity candy. I say 'insane' because cavities, while covered, are not 100% covered, and it cost me close to 300 bucks to fix two cavities six months ago. I simply can't afford that right now. But it is really, REALLY hard to stop. It all started with a bag of Sweettart Sour Gummies that grabbed my eye in the Bl*ckbuster check-out line. Then the next day at the movies I had to have Sour Patch Kids. At the store the next day I bought regular ol' gummy bears from the huge snack buy-by-the-pound container things. And the NEXT day? Yesterday? I bought THREE BOXES of candy from Walgreens, which incidentally were the exact size of the candy at the movies, only three bucks cheaper. Because they were 3 for $3, I bought 3. Nerds, Sour Patch Kids, and Airheads. I took the Kids and the Airheads home so Micah would eat them, how terribly responsible of me, but I kept the Nerds at work. I have been sucking them and crunching them for hours,and you know Nerds...that box doesn't have a bottom. This isn't good. But oh. SO, SO GOOD.
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