Wednesday, October 22, 2008


Paul has been playing a video game called "Star Wars Battlefront". It's got the most annoying soundtrack with a lot of "Beepbeepbeep... boopboopboop" noises that are liable to drive whoever isn't playing insane. Lately he's been very courteous about that noise, and mutes the game when he knows it's going to appear. This is quite lovely, and I truly don't even care that he's playing that video game or one like it.

Since he's been on a scary movie kick lately (all in the buildup to Halloween), we've been trying to rent movies from Netflix that are scary or spooky. Unfortunately we had given Dad "Run Fatboy Run" before we set out on our spook-athon, and had to get that back and watch it before we saw got our next movie.

The movie was really great, I adore Simon Pegg! I set about putting the movie in it's sleeve and sealing it- then sent it in yesterday morning. When I got home after my flu shot (which hurts like a bitch right now, btw), I saw we had another movie, a 1987 gem called "The Monster Squad", one of those movies from your past that you can't believe finally made it onto DVD. To keep our movie rotation going, we watched "The Monster Squad" and had it all set to send out today. Paul decided he wanted to play "Star Wars Battlefront", but what's this? "Run FatBoy Run"? Why is that... uh oh.

I mailed Paul's not-made-anymore video game instead of the movie. CRAP. So I called netflix to notify them of the error and the guy said we'll most likely get it back. I felt a little better about it, but man, how guilty do I look? I had just complained about it and then sent it in. Dang.

This morning I got an email from Netflix, saying my envelope had been received, but empty. CRAP. So I call again to tell them that it's been sent in with a personal DVD instead, and the girl tells me that she'll make a note of it, and hopefully they'll find it. I KNOW there was a movie-ish type of thing inside that envelope, so it wasn't empty, but perhaps someone stole it! I know, I know. Totally insane. I guess I've never really gotten over Paul's wedding band (v.1) being stolen from UPS.

Keep your fingers crossed that his video game will return!

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Stay tuned for next week's episode....

On the brighter side: does anyone watch "How I Met Your Mother"? I love this show, but MAN, it seems every episode ends with a cliffhanger! I haven't watched last night's episode yet (DVR is waiting for me!), but I don't know if I can take it! I've never been good with cliffhangers, and have despised season finales for that very reason- most end in cliffhangers- Jim and Pam anyone???!!!

I think it's part of being impatient. I just can't sit there and wait a week, month, or season without needing to know what happens. In part, I've started reading ahead in some of my books. If I suspect an ending that I find unsavory, I will actually stop reading the book. I'm serious. I will put it down, give it away, return it to the library. I want everything to have a happy ending. I wonder if that means that despite my TTC rants and raves that I'm characteristically an optimistic person who just wants the best for all?

Eh. I just want everyone to be with the person they love, I think.

Still clicking my heels together

It's funny to me, at the moment I feel like I don't belong anywhere. I mean, I have my family and friends, and I belong with them... but I don't have a distinct group I belong to. When I was at Weddingbee, I was getting married. My group was engaged women planning their weddings (some in public on a national site, others in private), waiting to be "wife" instead of "girlfriend" or "fiance". Then, months after our marriage, I became a TTCer. And now, months after that, I'm not really associating myself with anything anymore.

I'm not chipper or upbeat enough to be a contributing part of the TTC group that I was previously a member of. Instead I've turned bitter, unable to congratulate all those who pop in momentarily to share in TTC, and then find themselves pregnant on the first try. When one of them announces a chemical pregnancy or a (god forbid) miscarriage, I wonder briefly which is worse: to know you're capable of getting pregnant, yet suffering a loss like that; or after ten or so cycles, not yet finding yourself pregnant with no possible explanation as to why. Maybe that makes me a horrible person, if so, I apologize for how I seem to you readers- especially those of you who have suffered such devastating losses, but being on this side of the fence leaves me with many questions to be answered. Therefore, I find myself willingly leaving the TTC thread, because I couldn't POSSIBLY be trying any harder to get pregnant. So while the new girls appear sporadically, all excited with the newness of TTC, I can't share in their joy. A shiny, new basal thermometer and a perfect looking chart on Fertility Friend is all novelty to them. For me, I've had to extend my FF membership past when I thought I'd be done, and have since bought another basal thermometer. It's not fun anymore. So I can't congratulate and wish them a happy and healthy nine months to these gals who breezed in and sneezed and wow, pregnant my first month!, or worse yet, had accidental pregnancies because they thought it'd take longer (as evident from me, the crotchety old hag rocking away in her chair muttering "Someday it'll be my turn... someday...", while renovating her cubicle in TTC hell), and are "making do". I hate that I'm that person. I'm bitter! I'm usually upbeat! What the hell has happened to me? TTC has ruined my life.

So now I don't belong in TTC worlds, nor do I belong in the world of the almost marrieds, I definitely don't belong in the world of mommies and daddies, as being around babies right now isn't really the best choice for my remaining mental health. Right now, Doctor Amber has prescribed many alcoholic drinks, a trip to Disneyland (nine days!) and a kind and loving husband who wants nothing more than to help give her that dream of a baby. Until that happens, I'm going to retreat back into my dark and musty corner, and continue to make baby name lists in my head. Henry? Sounds like a winner.

Forgive the rants and gripes. I'm on a fast train to Angry and Bitter town, with a quick stopoff in Pityville.

Friday, October 17, 2008

At the tone...

I love my husband very much. Despite that, sometimes I want to punch him in the face. Yes, it may sound mean and unwarranted, but hear me out- he's a horrible waker in the morning. Hm. Me thinks "waker" isn't a word. Well... I've just made it one. Anyway, my husband is optimistic, since he sets his alarm for 5:30am every Monday through Friday, with full intent to actually get up at that time.

The problem is, nine times out of ten he'll hit the snooze button at LEAST twice- both times making sure I'm nice and panicked when that alarm starts blaring. I have just enough time between each snooze to fall back to sleep enough to be rudely awakened with the next alarm.

I'm a little more realistic, I set my alarm for 6:11am, when take my basal temperature and get out of bed. Every morning, like clockwork. Pun greatly intended. I've never been a snooze button presser, and from what I remember from 4 years of living with Paul, he's ONLY been a snooze presser. He claims it helps him wake up. I say you should just set your alarm for the exact time you want to wake up, none of that waking up in installments junk. Because I'm so used to my own schedule of waking up exactly when the alarm starts to make a noise, when his alarm goes off and keeps going off (because it's not enough to wake me with his snooze, he also has to keep the alarm going for at least 30 seconds) I get thrown off, and think it's MY alarm that's going off, so I turn MINE off. Bad news.

It's funny to me because it's been like this every weekday morning of our lives together, and I never really paid attention to how mean it is to snooze when you're sharing your bed with someone who has a schedule to keep as well. Since he's such a great guy despite all this snooziness, I think I'll keep him. And keep my eye out for a better alarm sound!

Wednesday, October 15, 2008


Wow, long time no post! Sorry for the teensy break there, I'd had a couple of off days, a cold and a busy schedule.

I'm close to a couple of gals from my weddingbee blogging days, and recently one commented on the toughness of marriage. Part of the reason we are close is due to the time we got both got married- now that there are often new generations of Bees, certain generations tend to stick together. We're both at the same place in our lives- celebrating our one year anniversaries (18 days until mine!), and getting used to the day to day grind without the chance for the party at the end of the tunnel.

Right now I'm feeling frustrated. I'm an adult now. Now I'm the person who gets called when her mom is in the emergency room, when her dad loses his job, and when the dog has a skin infection. I have real life responsibilities now and I'm not sure I'm okay with this. Saturday night my mom calls asking for my brother's phone number in Australia, because she was told by my aunt that he was worried about her and her shoulder. Now, I hadn't told him about it because Mom asked me not to, it's not my decision to make- it was all taken care of and she's fine now. So, I tell her it's at home, and I'll call her with it later. At the game, I shoot off a quick email on my sidekick telling him a brief, "Mom's okay, her shoulder is taken care of and she's taking her pain pills and doing exercises, don't worry about her."

The next day I get an email back from him, basically saying he had no idea she was hurt until she called him (she figured out the number by herself), and that he doesn't have time to worry about her anyway. What? Well, his daughter caught a cold from her first day in daycare (she's 10 months old), and they were so worried they took her to the hospital (gotta love the ER care in Australia), and NOW they're both sick. So he tells me he has no room to worry about mom and that "He's just done". Even though I send him a quick, "Sorry to hear about the baby, hope she feels better soon", inside I was incensed. I guess he figured "out of country, out of mind, out of life".

Since he's moved, he's been almost like a figment of my imagination. I have a brother? And a sister in law I've met once? Really? I don't talk (email) to him more than once a month. We don't share any news. I sent him a postcard from Hawaii, and that's the most I've done. I know it's both ways, but come on. I've sent him onesies for the baby and things like that. There was that issue with the photo albums that my parents got (each) as well as my aunt, the baby's great aunt. Did I get one? Nope. I feel like an only child, since he doesn't seem to give a crap about what else people are doing in our family. My dad's side gets teary when they talk about how he shuns them. Join the club, family. You're not the only one. There's nothing worse than knowing you're alone in something, even when technically you shouldn't be.

I have a niece I've never seen. I may not see her for years, because I'm sorry, planning my OWN damn family comes first. You want your child to know your family? Make a goddamn effort. Send pictures, write letters, let us talk to her. Don't just send us a freaking link to her flickr pictures. I have best friends in this country that I consider to be more family than my brother. My friend Tricia knows about how hard things are right now. Laura is part of my daily conversations about life. And these are people who weren't even raised with me. They don't share my blood, yet I'd be more than thrilled to be an "Auntie" to one of their babies.

It feels like my brother was trying to escape something here. Yeah, it was a pretty hard home to grow up in, but he hasn't tried to talk about it, he'd rather ignore it than help me figure out what went wrong. I have to think he intentionally found a girl to marry that wasn't in the US. He met her online, the girl could have been from anywhere. I feel abandoned, and it just makes me sad. God bless Paul, he's been the strongest person for me to lean on,and this isn't even his family. Well, technically, it is now, but it wasn't a requirement. My brother has created his own life somewhere else, and it seems to me that I'm not part of it anymore. When we hear from him, it's usually in response to emails we send- and those feel almost like being tolerated by someone who dislikes you.

I have four other nieces and nephews, eleven first cousins, and four-going-on-7 second cousins who are like nieces and nephews. I'm surrounded by love, so why does his dismissal of us feel like such a hit?

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

The Upside of Having a Cold

Our one year wedding anniversary is coming up. We'd hoped to be pregnant by then, but in the meantime I'd been trying to think of reasons I was glad it hasn't happened yet. Stupid little things like: oooh, at least I can enjoy a margarita, even though I don't drink. So I'm starting to drink more. It's a filthy cycle, I tell you. I'm almost taunting myself here, with these insipid reasons why it's good I'm not pregnant: at least I'm not pregnant in the summer! Good thing I'm not pregnant right now, Woofie has allergies (?). Then it started becoming: Good thing I'm not pregnant right now, I don't know if I wanted another May baby in the family. All these little things that hurt to say, trying to make myself feel better.

Today is a low day for me. I don't know why. Maybe it's because I was sidelined with a pretty bad cold this morning, one that had my throat hurting (Hey! Good thing I'm not pregnant this morning, I couldn't take any medication!), eyes watering and uncontrollable sneezing. The past couple of days have been just a sea of routines; going home, taking Woofie out, talking to my dad, making dinner, eating dinner, watching a movie... then my mom's dislocated shoulder was tossed into it and it turned into, "God, this is hard, I hope she'll be okay (hey! Good thing I'm not pregnant, that x-ray would not be good to be around)". Then her friend tells me, "You need to start having babies, your mom promised to quit smoking when you get pregnant." Great, so my Mom's inability to have some damned willpower has now deemed me the person who will get her to quit smoking, all I need to do is get pregnant. Because you know, it's easy.

So yeah, now I'm at work, spewing my misery of TTC around to the other ladies TTC with me, the lucky ones who have only been at it a month or so. When people say the first year of marriage is the toughest, I wonder if they were also TTC.

As I mentioned in my title up there, at least with my watery eyes and runny nose, no one at work can tell I'm crying. So there is an upside after all.

Monday, October 6, 2008

A Very South Park Christmas

Ahhhh, "South Park". A bastion of both political satire and commentary on the superficiality of entertainers. It's also a lifesaver for my family. I know, I know, what kind of family would consider "South Park" a lifesaver? With its lowbrow humor and often disgusting content (which I find endlessly hilarious, so sue me), it's not what you'd call family entertainment. At least, not in families other than my own.

Let's go back to 1996, my cousin Ellen and I were in our senior year of high school, I had just turned 17 on November 5th. Our grandma had been sick for going on 3 years now, which was both good and bad- good because we got more time with her, bad because she was changed- our grandma was gone and a shell of her remained. Christmas was coming up, a holiday our extended family used to spend at Grandma's house. I had gotten all the gifts for my friends and family, carefully choosing those gifts that were the best fit for each person. It was a Wednesday afternoon two days before Christmas break began, and my mom and I had just returned from Target. We had a message on the answering machine. It was Ellen's sister Amy, three years older than we are. The message was chilling, "Hello? Mark (my dad)? Can you give us a call? Grandma's gone." You could hear the tears in her voice, and then my Dad's voice as he picked up the phone in the midst of the message being left. Then the phone rang- it was my Dad calling to tell me to get over to my cousin's house.

That was probably the worst Christmas of my life. Spending your holiday break numb inside, waiting for the inevitable tears to fall. I couldn't understand why everyone else in the family was crying, and I couldn't. I loved her too, I missed her, I wanted to be back in her arms again, smelling of rose lotion and Coty powder. It's funny, how now just writing that phrase brings tears to my eyes, yet back in 1996, I was a stone. It wasn't until her funeral, when it all hit me. Ellen stood at the podium and talked about our grandma and what she had brought to our life. I sat there, alone in the pew trying to keep my sobs as quiet as possible, only succeeding in making them echo throughout the room. When I saw the parents I had baby-sat for, neighbors of my grandma, sitting in the pews, I cried harder. This was it. Grandma was gone. She wouldn't be leaving tomatoes on their back porch anymore. She wouldn't wave across the street to me, while I walked the halls consoling a teething 2 year old.

What does this have to do with "South Park", you ask? Well, as I had mentioned, Grandma had passed away about 5/6 days before Christmas, and we were all just so down. It was like the world was in color, and we were all in black and white. What to do for the usual festive holiday? The gifts were bought and wrapped, and yet the joy was gone. My cousin Mike was working for MTV at the time, and they had received a demo of something they had ultimately passed on. So, Mike brought it home to us, and showed it to us on Christmas day. It was the "South Park" Christmas card (aka The Spirit of Christmas), a precursor to South Park.

For some ridiculous reason, MTV passed on this goldmine, and Comedy Central picked it up. "The Spirit of Christmas" gave us a Christmas filled with laughter and crudeness, just what our family needed (as evidenced by our Thanksgiving choice of entertainment: "Kingpin"). There were horrible references to Santa Claus, and disgusting references to a pig, and there were smiles on our faces. Amazingly, my cousin Mike and South Park had saved Christmas- our very first without Grandma.

Luckily, one of the producers of the show is a parent at Paul's school. Paul coaches his kids in various sports, and we've been invited to their house for various holidays. Their daughter Milan (who actually has done a few voices on the show) looks exactly like me at that age, and their son is a sweetheart. After 10 or so years, I was able to thank "South Park" for what they did for us all those years ago. And yes, we did make fun of MTV for passing on that opportunity.

It's not often you can say a cartoon (especially such a foul-mouthed one) saved Christmas, but it did. And that's why you'll find "South Park" being DVRed every Wednesday in our house. I owe them.

Sun through the clouds

Good morning all! I'd like to welcome all the new readers who have followed me from WeddingBee. For those of you not in the "know", Weddingbee has been sold to eharmony. You'll find a variety of posts on the site regarding the sale and subsequent loss of many Bees, both old and new. I'm not going to go into my say of things, but I think people should know that we Bees shared our lives with readers by choice, and it's also our choice to leave. I'm not making any grand gesture of leaving the hive, my time there had ended a long time ago, and there are no more posts in me about our wedding, or married life. Well, none I'd be willing to share on a site with national readers. No, I'm much more comfortable here, in my cozy baby-obsessed cave with temperatures and bitterness towards other people who manage to get pregnant before me. (hint: laugh at that please, I'm joking. Kinda. :) )

Anyway, a new day has begun. In honor of that, I have these:

Chocolate and peanut butter chip cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. What do you do with 24 cupcakes? Also, I wasn't told the silicone cupcake liners had to be greased first! Now I decorated all these pretty cupcakes and I have to tear them out of the silicone liner. Suuucks.

This weekend was a busy one. I originally woke up at 7:25am on Saturday to go to Paul's flag football game. It took me a good minute to shut off my alarm and stagger out of bed, exhausted from the lack of sleep I had this past week. When he saw my face, puffy and creased from a horrible night's sleep full of nightmares about my mom's arm snapping off (WTH?) he told me to go to bed and he'll see me a little later. So, I gladly went back to sleep, and woke up at 11am!! Good lord that was a long sleep! Paul called from the road, and asked if I wanted to go to the USC football game that night. Since I've never been to a college football game (actually, never been to a football game that wasn't high school or 8th graders), I said sure, despite being a UCLA fan! So I got bundled up because it was looking rainy, and took the dog out and went to the market to get stuff to make for dinner. Annnnnd tater tots. Because although they're really just formed tubes of reconstituted potatoes I love them anyway. Ask Napoleon Dynamite. You can't have any of my 'tots. So, we left early for the football game so we could grab a bite on the way. Once we parked it was a good 20 minute walk to the stadium, with drunk collegiates staggering into my way every 5 to 10 feet.

It was worth it, when we saw the view from our seats:

After a nice snack of cheese popcorn, cotton candy, a soft pretzel and water, I was all set to go home. After all, I'm only there for the food!

Sunday we had more football games, and I made dinner of enchilada pie and those cupcakes above.

I had a fitful sleep, as nothing is less conducive to sleep than a tossing 300lb husband who is "sick" and wants someone to talk to him, because he can't sleep. Again, I awoke from nightmares- this time involving my boss' son, who I used to babysit back in the day. Someone was messing with him, and in trying to protect him I was beaten up. What is up with my sleep lately? I didn't eat late, or anything weird, I'm just having the oddest dreams!

Friday, October 3, 2008

When it rains... well, you know

Just a quick pop in here as I'm at work and exhausted and would like to take this spare moment to take a quick nap. Yesterday was a sack full of crap. We had a gas leak in our oven (which is why it never turned on), a majorly backed up sink and a visit to the emergency room.

First things first: I left work at 1:15 to hustle home to let in the oven repair guy. Dad had gotten there at one, because the plumber was supposed to be there between 1 and 3pm. Of course, isn't it always the tail end when people come in? I had just arranged for Dad to head over to meet the plumber when the oven repair guy called me and said he was going to be there in 15/20 minutes. Eeeep! So I begged my boss to leave, and he said he had made other plans, and apparently we absolutely MUST have someone here to answer the non-ringing phone. The second he took off, I texted my boss and gave her a quick scoop of info, got permission to leave and took off myself, managing to make the buses just in time to get home before the oven tech.

After being told that my oven was completely broken and that it was leaking gas, I told him to do whatever he needs to, and I'll be sitting on the couch with dad. He finished up and left, and we proceeded to wait for the plumber, who was finished in all of ten minutes.

Dad and I went around buying stuff to bake, then I came home and waited for Paul. When he finally got home, we got a phone call from my mom who was in the ER with a busted shoulder. We were there until eleven, standing beside my mom, who was in major pain. She had slipped on a puddle of oil and dislocated her shoulder. They drugged her up and popped it back in, and went home with a friend of hers, since there's no way she'd be comfortable on the couch with a dog fighting over her spot.

I just spoke to her, and she's feeling much better. And now, I must take a nap, well wishes for my mom please!