Monday, April 28, 2008

Email haunts

One of my favorite things to say is, "Like is like that", when people are complaining about something or another. When I took a look at my sidekick this morning, to glance at the emails I'd received over the night, I had to think "Well, life is like that". It appears the dreaded ex (anyone remember Clueless?) has decided to do his annual "check and see if Amber is willing to have random sex with me" email. Yes, he is aware I am married (although his last haunting was before the wedding happened, so he may just be a complete moron and not be able to count), but I have a feeling he seems to think his impact on my life may be greater than it really was.

Let me explain... A few months after Paul and I reconnected (I really don't like that word), DE (dreaded ex) came back into town from San Francisco where he lives with his son. He asked to meet up with me, and with permission from Paul, I agreed. This man (up to Paul), was my great love. The one that left me heartbroken and just plain broken. Still, every now and then he buzzes around to make sure I'm still dating/engaged/married, and as he said in the recent email "that you're still alive". When he came back into town, we met up, and I made sure I looked crappier than usual- why tempt the man? Ha, I'm so conceited. Actually, I think I was sick, and I really wanted to meet with him for some closure. Some "Oh, what the hell did I see in you?" treatment. What I got was, "Ya know, if you weren't with that other guy, I'd totally ask you to sleep with me". Wow, how can a lady refuse such an offer? I nearly died. How did I let THIS peach go? Perhaps he thought he was being funny (doubt it), or maybe he thought his power over my heart was so great I'd be like, "yes, I will gladly toss away a bright happy future to have one lovely roll in the CAR with a man who refused to commit!"

Needless to say, I told him his chances were slim to none that I would do that, and got out of the car, wishing him well. For some reason, he can't seem to realize I don't want any more contact with him. Despite his cavemanity, and his sleazy tactics, he does hold a place in my heart, and I don't want that around me. I want to live my new life with my husband, and have it be happy and loving. I don't need a guy coming back into my life asking me to invite him to my wedding (for real), or asking me if I'd like to meetup soon.

In case you're wondering, I'm never welcoming, and I'm sure my response to his email is ammo enough to keep him coming back. Still, the last time I responded it was to tell him that I'm happy now, and I have everything I wanted. Which means he's not part of it. Meaning, I DON'T WANT YOU IN MY LIFE ANYMORE. I suppose the right thing to do would be to ignore him, right? It's so hard to resist rubbing in how happy I am, which according to his last email "I've never been treated as well as I was with you", he isn't.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Cleaning House

Our landlord is having a termite inspection tomorrow. Which means we've got to hustle to get all our junk together so he doesn't get mad that we store a pizza oven in the closet. Orrr the bread maker. And the electric griddle. We sadly have more storage space in the hall closet than we do say... the kitchen! Anyway, as I set about limping through the house collecting laundry for Paul to do (ha, bum ankle finally has a use!), I put one of my favorite movies of all time on: Knocked Up.

While I'm in the bedroom sorting laundry, I usually put on a movie; Superbad, 40 Year Old Virgin, Knocked Up, maybe a cartoon or something. Anything that will keep me laughing, and doesn't need to be consistently watched, lest I miss a plot turn or something. Anyway, since trying to conceive, I've been inundated with movies and tv shows that focus on babies and pregnancy, all things I'm trying not to think about- because I'm just not sure what's going on with my body right now.

Damn you, Knocked Up- for making me stop laughing at the story and start thinking about how much harder conceiving is for me than it was for them. Oh well, no time for mopey Amber, it's time for Gimpy House Cleaning Amber. I come prepared with spray bottles of Windex and Clorox clean wipes.

I'm just the Aunt

I've mentioned my niece Ivy before, who lives in Sydney with my brother and sister in law. From the few pictures I've seen of her, she's absolutely adorable, and it just breaks my heart to know that I won't actually SEE her in quite some time. There are many factors to this: the cost of flying to Australia, taking time off, having somewhere to stay in AU (no room at their home) which costs more money, not even counting if I actually get pregnant by the time we'd have all the money saved (and which we'd end up using for our baby). Luckily for my parents, my brother and SIL are doing everything they can to make sure they get tons of baby pictures in their inboxes.

Unfortunately for me, I must not register on this list of important people. The other day my dad met me in the car with an album sent by my SIL's sister (still following me?), the other aunt, Robyn. In this snapfish album were pictures of Ivy, from 5 minutes old, to Easter Sunday. Since I'm always trying to make sure things are "even" for my parents (mom and dad each get the same thing, no matter what it is), I wasn't sitting there thinking, "Oh wow, I hope I get one!". Instead I was thinking, "Oh man, I hope my mom gets one." That evening I called to tell her to check her mail, since we both got invitations to my aunt Marcy's 50th anniversary party, and to slyly check to see if she got an album as well. When I called to tell her my foot wasn't killing me as much, I fished for some info on her mail pickup. She did get the same album! Then she told me my aunt Marcy got one, too. Wait, what?

Now I feel pretty bad. You'd think it would be something special, right? From one Aunt to another? Not Aunt Robyn to Great Aunt Marcy. Perhaps it's silly, as I didn't want an album to begin with, just wanted to make sure my mom got one. Now that I know they are handing them out willy-nilly to all other relatives, I DO want an album. It feels really bad to be the one "forgotten". Everyone else gets phone calls, and letters, and pictures. I get nothing. For crying out loud, this is my first niece, do I not get to be a part of her life?

So now I sit here like a girl without a prom date, hoping my album comes in the mail someday. Until then, what am I supposed to do? I feel a little forgotten.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Joke's on me

You'd think that in my being a huge fan of Scrubs I'd be delighted to share a trait with the main character "J.D." (Zach Braff), right? Well, not this particular trait! In the last season or two, J.D. has fainted while he pooped (a word I dislike). No, I do not do this, but what he suffers from is called "Vasovagal Syncope". After my fainting spell yesterday, it appears I, too, have this disorder.

From Mayo Clinic online: Vasovagal syncope is triggered by a stimulus that results in an exaggerated and inappropriate response in the part of your nervous system that regulates involuntary body functions, including heart rate and blood flow (autonomic nervous system). When some sort of stimulus triggers this exaggerated response, both your heart rate and blood pressure drop, quickly reducing blood flow to your brain and leading to loss of consciousness. A person who has fainted due to vasovagal syncope recovers quickly, usually within seconds or a few minutes.

Yes, I am like those fainting goats after all. Before a faint due to vasovagal syncope, you may have warning signs and symptoms, such as:

* Pale appearance to your skin
* Feeling of warmth
* Weakness
* Lightheadedness
* Nausea
* Yawning
* Sweating
* Rapid breathing (hyperventilation)
* Blurred vision
* Field of vision "blacking out" or "whiting out"
* Difficulty hearing or ringing in your ears

The signs and symptoms above may precede either a near faint (pre-syncope) or total loss of consciousness (syncope). But in either situation, you recover or regain consciousness on your own. Adults who faint often have a history of fainting during childhood.

It pretty much states that I can feel a faint coming on with those warning signs, almost like migraines. This is relatively common, and all I must do is try to avoid the trigger (try not to fall down?) and to immediately get as close to the ground as possible, to avoid further injury from fainting. The condition usually corrects itself once the person is on the ground, which allows the blood to rush back into their head.

So yeah, I faint when I get hurt. Now I'm pretty afraid of labor/pregnancy.

Another one bites the dust.

I may have set a record, folks. I've managed to fall down and bust an ankle twice in 4 days. The fall on Saturday night wasn't nearly as terrible as the fall yesterday afternoon, and also not quite as public! My left ankle had already returned back to normal when I stepped out of the car and onto the pavement. A few steps more and I was really on the pavement. I'm not quite sure what happened, all I know is that one moment I was walking with my bag of past-due library books talking to my Dad, then the next moment I heard a crack and I was on the ground with my hands 'round the mess that was my right ankle.

For some odd inexplicable reason, my body is incapable of dealing with pain. Anytime I hurt myself I laugh and grow faint. My vision gets dark and I start sweating and getting dizzy, I can't hear because my ears are rushing with blood. To be honest, it's a little scary and quite embarrassing. A couple feet away from us, a pair of girls yelled out, "Are you okay?! That looked REALLY bad!" Yes, thank you, I'm okay. I'll just limp/ooze over to where the handicap ramp is, and lay my head upon one of the bars while my Dad runs our books in. While he's gone, my vision gets darker, my foot starts to throb, and my stomach threatens to evacuate the hummus and tabbouleh that I had just eaten. It was not pleasant. My dad comes back out, and giving me his arm, helps me into the car. He notices the cold sweat beading on my forehead, and we just sit there awhile, me breathing in and out as if I were in labor. Finally, the pressure in my head starts to clear and I'm shaken, but still conscious. I text Paul the message, "Think I just sprained my ankle. Almost blacked out." Gotta keep your husband informed, right?

All my plans for doing laundry and picking up a salmon filet for Paul to eat with our steamed artichokes had gone out the window. Instead, he picks up the healthy Taco Bell (beans instead of meat), and wraps my foot. He tells me I need to stay home, and I would need crutches. I'm at work today and limping. See how I listen?

After a treatment of ice, wrapping in ace bandage and advil (I'm allergic to Aleve), my foot is still purple and swollen. I never really realized how much I love my ankle bone- until I can no longer see it through the disgusting mass that was my foot. Not pleasant at all, this sausage foot.

Hopefully it'll be better for the Dodger game we're going to on Friday, there are a lot of stairs to walk down to get to our seats. I'd hate to take a fall in front of all those people, too, being all unstable-like. Wish me luck and a speedy recovery (and yes, I'm aware that shuffling at work won't accelerate the recovery process)!

Monday, April 21, 2008

Bits n Pieces

Not much going on here, just really sitting around and checking calendars and cool stuff like that. :) I spent last weekend at the Renaissance Faire with my mom, aunt and cousins. It was actually really fun, and I came away with some lovely things. When we were heading out to dinner that night, though, I misstepped and completely fell on my hiney. My foot was really swollen (along with my sunburned lips- I tell ya, sunscreen, chapstick WITH sunscreen, doesn't matter, the lips still burn in the most disgusting way), and I spent the first night away from my husband since we got married. He wasn't missing me too much as we purchased a flat screen LCD tv the Friday before (as well as a new camera, which was useless as I had left it in the car at the faire), and spent the weekend cleaning up and watching Die Hard with a Vengeance on the Blue Ray player.

Today I am anxiously awaiting a delivery with my ovulation predictor sticks in it. Apparently I've decided to dive whole hog into this conception business, and I'm really dedicated to peeing on sticks. It was really such a bargain from, and it came with 20 free pregnancy tests! This is hilarious to me, giving out pregnancy tests with every ovulation stick, it's like "We're so sure you'll be pregnant, we're willing to bet 20 pregnancy tests on it!"

Now I'm sitting here, waiting for the sticks to arrive, and suddenly encumbered with a bit of dizziness- and it doesn't feel good. A few years back I was struck with a particularly bad case of vertigo, and suffered for a few weeks with nausea and a swimming head. It was so bad that anytime I get the slightest dizzy feeling, I'm fear it's going to happen again. I'm already feeling a bit better, so hopefully it's just plain old dizziness.

So many little things going on, right?

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

It's Time!

It appears pregnancy and babies follow me everywhere. A good friend of mine recently discovered her pregnancy (lucky bitch- JOKING!), all tv shows seem to be based on pregnancy and babies (seriously- yesterday Tyra's show was about Remarkable Mothers, The Simpsons was about Marge's pregnancy with Bart, and Jon and Kate Plus 8 was on), so it's hard not to feel the urge to breed coming on, especially when it's already such a strong urge to begin with.

As of last week, Paul and I are OFFICIALLY trying for babies. We are no longer "seeing what happens", now we are actively planning and plotting, although not quite to the point of ovulation predictor kits. Friends say to just give in and stop thinking, as that's when it'll happen. Parents at Paul's school have advised me to just have a bottle of really good champagne and celebrate our love. Interesting.

I think I'll just pop "Juno" in the DVD player and see what happens. Wait. That's a movie about teenage pregnancy. Okay, perhaps I'll pop Terminator 2 in, instead. Wait- creepy Austrian robot protecting a super-buff woman and her child? Nope. I think I need a better choice. I guess I should really think through this idea of mine. Despite my deep love for "She's Having a Baby", I think the movie would terrify Paul at this precise juncture. Any good his and hers romantic movie ideas?

Tuesday, April 8, 2008


I've been listening to Jordin Sparks' (why would you spell your child's name like that?) song "Tattoo", and sad to say I really like it. As a non-idol fan, I just enjoyed the song and the lyrics inside it, particularly these parts:

Don't look back, got a new direction
I loved you once, needed protection
You're still a part of everything I do
You're on my heart just like a tattoo

and then this part

If I live every moment
Won't change any moment
There's still a part of me in you

I will never regret you
Still the memory of you
Marks everything I do

Perhaps this song strikes me in a way because that's how I think of my prior relationships. Yes, I loved you once, and you're still a part of me- of my past, but it's not the same. Do we all carry bits and pieces of our past?

In my life I've had about four boyfriends, including Paul. Out of those four, there was only one other boyfriend that I was really invested in. After about two years of dating (one of those long distance), there just was no hope for us. I wanted more and he couldn't give me more. So, things ended and I found Paul not too long after.

Since the relationship began so soon after another relationship, I was hesitant to believe I really did love Paul. The ex resurfaced a couple of times, each time telling me he had made a mistake. Yeah well, so did I. I wasted a lot of time with him. Despite me deeming the time "wasted", I don't think I'd trade the time we had for anything. Even Paul knows, the time I had with that guy has shaped me into the Amber he has now, and had I not experienced it, would I have looked up Paul after all?

Sometimes I question myself, because my love for Paul is unexplainable. Everyone from my dad to Paul's students tell me Paul's a great guy- I KNOW! That's why I married him! Still, I don't know how to explain how I feel about him. The previous boyfriend I would have said I had an all encompassing love for, but in reality I think I was just hoping for more. Comparing him to Paul is impossible, as Paul is probably the most decent and kind person I will ever know- and the other guy... well. He loved me. I can say that about him. I don't have anything bad to say about the other guy because he helped get me here to where I belong now. Because of that, he'll always be a part of me and my life, even if I don't talk to him anymore.

It seems life helps you get where you need to be, despite it causing you heartbreak.

Thursday, April 3, 2008

You say

Although we're not even starting to try to conceive (TTC for future reference), I'm worrying a little bit about what people will think. Most especially Paul's brother and sister in law, and a few members of our families. Why? Well, no matter what we do, we're always considered "the kids" with Paul's brother. We managed to save up thousands for the wedding, but they still won't let us pay for anything. We're treated differently from Paul's sister, perhaps because she's older with two kids, perhaps just because she's her, I dunno. I worry that should we become pregnant, BIL would think it was a stupid thing to do- what with us living in a 1 bedroom apartment and all. Paul's sister lives in a house, but it's rented. Should it make a difference? Apparently it does. This makes me sad. Sure we're not college graduates... SIL is a college grad, yet she still lets the kids sleep in her bed every night (a 4 year old and a 7 year old). I don't think degrees should count for much. I acknowledge it can help you earn more money and get a better job, but come on.

We're both close to 30 now, and I feel I would be a good mother. We're not lacking for anything, we aren't missing much, so our child would spend a few years in a one bedroom apartment, is that really so terrible? While I know many would be happy for us if babies should happen, I think more about the ones who will question us, "Did you plan this?" or, "Are you sure this is a good idea?" I'm not just sitting here thinking it could be great to have a baby to play with. No, we're thinking of which schools our children could go to. We're thinking about daycare and things like that. Granted, we won't be as well off as Paul's brother. I accept that. Our kids won't have the newest toys out, and Buggaboo strollers. I wasn't brought up rich, I never had the newest thing, but I didn't lack in anything. Our kids will have insurance, much love, and happy parents. They'll have strollers that work, beds that are comfortable, and a roof over their heads. Kids have had worse.

Still, what do I say to those family members who question our choice to have children?


Do you ever have those days where everything is just wrong? Timing is bad, you're tired, your head aches, things like that? Yesterday I had one of "those" days. It started off badly- my sex-addict neighbor and her slacker BF were up at 4:30 having loud squeaky sex... and then again at 5:30. Seriously? What is going ON up there? PLEASE, for the sake of the economy (but more so my sanity) get a job, buddy.

Then, when I was finally out of bed, I realized I had a pounding headache in my right temple. There really is nothing worse than waking up with a headache. I got myself all together and we left for work (and a bagel first). At the bagel place, Paul and I discussed Disneyland on the 18th of April, as we were planning on going, but found out it was a blackout day and we'd have to pay an extra 60 dollars or so for the two of us. I'm actually totally fine with that, but Paul wants to go on a day where we won't have to pay, as we've already paid for a passport and have yet to go more than once. So I was a little let down after that, since I'm obviously a child. Haha.

When I got to work, I turned on the little tv while I did my usual morning routine, checking the prices from the previous night to make sure everything was entered correctly. As I finished up, I was walking past the television and reached over to turn it off- and it didn't work. I reached over again... nothing. Come ON! Frustrated (and obviously in the worst mood ever), I reached over quickly to turn it off again and jammed my pinkie finger into the wooden table the tv rests on, managing to filet a bit of skin off my pinkie knuckle. Damn thing burned and bled a bit.

Throughout the day various things bothered me (as now I must seem like the most crotchety person ever), and I was stuck at work until 4:30, doing a 7am-4:30 day is just murder, as there was nothing to do. When I left, I managed to get on the wrong bus, and got off about 5 minutes later when it let me off at the bottom of a steep incline. To get home I had to walk for an hour, up three inclines and over the 405 freeway. When I finally got home, it was almost six and Paul was calling. My head was pounding and I was tired as heck and wanted nothing more than to take a nap. Paul walked in and we got into bed and snuggled for a bit, and I fell asleep until about 6:45. When I woke up I heated up some macaroni and cheese (very gross) and was about to sit down when the ricecooker/steamer/slowcooker wedding gift we got (and have used twice) fell off the counter and broke. That was it. I exploded. I'm ashamed to admit this, but I yelled at Paul since it was because he had precariously balanced it on the counter even though I told him to move it. And now it's broken. Fed up with myself, I took a shower and crawled into bed to read a book- you know, let myself cool off.

I feel a little better this morning, woke up with another pounding headache, but so far I don't hate anyone. Isn't that something we all want in life? No one to hate? :D

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Grandma Approves

Last night I had a few dreams and it was odd, as I remembered them all. In one, Paul had surprised me with a "baby-manicure". No idea where that idea came from, but it was basically me getting pampered because there was a baby on the way. It was actually kind of strange, but I suppose I've been so focused lately on babies and the like so it's no wonder it appeared in my dream. My other dream was kind of special, and as it was the last dream before I woke, and it left me feeling warm and loved.

I've always wondered if my Grandma would have loved Paul had she been able to meet him. As she'd never hated a soul and was kind-hearted to the bone (hmm. "kind-hearted to the bone?) I bet she would have. Still, I'll always wish Paul had gotten the chance to meet HER, just to know how amazing she was. Since I'm a big fan of the mystic and am quite the ghost-researcher, I've heard about deceased family appearing in their loved one's dreams as a way to contact or to assure the dreamer of their well-being. Even though Grandma was one of the hugest influences in my life (I often live by the rule WWGM- What Would Grandma Do?), I've never had her appear in a dream in the eleven years she's been gone. To be quite honest with you, I was a little sad about it. Last night though, she was in my dream.

I was in a strange house that seemed familiar, but also unfamiliar. My dad's side (grandma's side) of the family was there, as were Paul and I. Surprisingly, Grandma was there as well, which was so odd. I don't remember any profound words or a sign to let me know how she is faring in heaven (sometimes I don't know if I believe in heaven, but I do know that if anyone was to be allowed in, it would be my grandma), but I do know that I felt a sense of approval from her, she was treating Paul as if he was a member of the family. It may sound stupid, taking a dream's meaning as acceptance, but it was odd timing. Lately I've been thinking a lot about motherhood, and my ability to be a parent as well as OUR abilities to be parents. Sure, it may be dumb to assume grandma even had a part in placing herself in my dream, but I think she "knew" that I'm at a crossroads in my life, and I needed to know if I was making the right decision about having children right now.

Yes, it was a dream... but somehow I feel as if Paul and Grandma finally got the chance to meet- even if it wasn't real. Just like Grandma in the real world, dream Grandma made me feel as if she's watching me and is proud of me and what I've managed to do in my life up to now. Thank you, Grandma... I really needed it right now.

My very momentous occasion

As you can see, on 3/28/08 I took my final birth control pill. No more hormone birth control, no more having to remember to take my pill every day, no more saying "No Baby!"

It has begun. We are no longer preventing, yet we're not "planning". We're trying to let Nature take its course, and see what happens. If nothing happens by July I'll start charting and all that crap. Until then, we'll just take our chances.