I used to be a Ravenclaw, but now, I am a Hufflepuff.
Not that there's anything wrong with that.
Thursday, March 8, 2007
a more perfect thing to say
Sometimes it takes me a little time for that perfect phraseology, and fittingly, this one is re: version 1.0. In reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone again, I realized that the ol' intelligence situation, in a nutshell, is this:
I used to be a Ravenclaw, but now, I am a Hufflepuff.
Not that there's anything wrong with that.
I used to be a Ravenclaw, but now, I am a Hufflepuff.
Not that there's anything wrong with that.
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
a weird but true thing to say
I love my optometrist. I do. Here's all the things I love about her:
1. She doesn't make me do the eye-puff test. You know, the test where they check for glaucoma? It just doesn't work with me. I've wholly convinced my mind that tiny darts will launch directly into my eyeballs in place of air, I've psyched myself out for the next 50 visits at least, and it will just never happen. They don't even try with me anymore, and if they did, I wouldn't let 'em. Today, actually, I just looked at the machine and said, "Yeah, I don't do that." And I received no argument whatsoever.
2. She's very conversational and friendly, and in a down-to-earth way. She made just the right amount of fuss over the fact that I was pregnant and feeling ill for it. She took it in stride, but wasn't dismissive. She wasn't over-the-top excited, either. (I kinda hate that.)
3. Because I was feeling ill, she got me right the hell out of there. No dilation of the eyes, very few flippy-flippies of the lenses to check, double-check, and re-re-check which Rx I needed. She knew the prescrip, and didn't mess with it.
4. She thinks marijuana should be legalized, particularly for things like nausea. But then was quick to say, "Not that I would smoke if I were pregnant, my baby would come out high."
5. She is my number one cheerleader for someday getting Lasik surgery. I realize that she probably is for all her patients, but I still like hearing it anyway. I'm literally half-blind, so Lasik would be a really big deal for me. I'm thinking part of a tax return a few years from now? I can dream.
6. She told the guy over in the eyeglasses department to give me half off the price whatever I picked. This literally saved me almost $200.
7. She also told the same guy that I had full permission to run out of the building at any time I desired, due to Being Green.
I guess overall, my optometrist's bedside manner is on point. Is that the right context for that phrase? I think I just like to say on point. What I mean is, it's pretty perfect. Oh, and also, I can't wait to get my snazzy new eyeglasses, woohoo.
1. She doesn't make me do the eye-puff test. You know, the test where they check for glaucoma? It just doesn't work with me. I've wholly convinced my mind that tiny darts will launch directly into my eyeballs in place of air, I've psyched myself out for the next 50 visits at least, and it will just never happen. They don't even try with me anymore, and if they did, I wouldn't let 'em. Today, actually, I just looked at the machine and said, "Yeah, I don't do that." And I received no argument whatsoever.
2. She's very conversational and friendly, and in a down-to-earth way. She made just the right amount of fuss over the fact that I was pregnant and feeling ill for it. She took it in stride, but wasn't dismissive. She wasn't over-the-top excited, either. (I kinda hate that.)
3. Because I was feeling ill, she got me right the hell out of there. No dilation of the eyes, very few flippy-flippies of the lenses to check, double-check, and re-re-check which Rx I needed. She knew the prescrip, and didn't mess with it.
4. She thinks marijuana should be legalized, particularly for things like nausea. But then was quick to say, "Not that I would smoke if I were pregnant, my baby would come out high."
5. She is my number one cheerleader for someday getting Lasik surgery. I realize that she probably is for all her patients, but I still like hearing it anyway. I'm literally half-blind, so Lasik would be a really big deal for me. I'm thinking part of a tax return a few years from now? I can dream.
6. She told the guy over in the eyeglasses department to give me half off the price whatever I picked. This literally saved me almost $200.
7. She also told the same guy that I had full permission to run out of the building at any time I desired, due to Being Green.
I guess overall, my optometrist's bedside manner is on point. Is that the right context for that phrase? I think I just like to say on point. What I mean is, it's pretty perfect. Oh, and also, I can't wait to get my snazzy new eyeglasses, woohoo.
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
cure?!
Okay, so I totally vomited this morning, for the first time this pregnancy, a detail I'm quite sure is TMI, but there's little else happening in life at the moment, so there it is. I suppose I could have chosen to talk about Australia's Next Top Model instead... which, I might actually do in another post. But for now, vomit.
No, not vomit. Because even though I vomited today, yesterday I did not vomit. I feel this may possibly be in part due to something that truly (even if temporarily) made me feel better: yogurt! Yogurt?!
Indeed. Stonyfield Farm fruit-on-the-bottom yogurt, in strawberry and blueberry flavors, which is ever so much healthier for a prego than, say, Oreo Choco-Stix. Pretty much when you're feeling Green, you have to eat something, even if you don't want to. And since you're Green, and feeling sorry for yourself anyway, it follows that you absolutely should have what you're most craving. Pickles, chips and (mild) salsa, meatballs, macaroni and cheese. Yesterday I ate all of these, and then in the afternoon, to combat the 3 PM Being Green Wave, I chose yogurt. And it really seemed to do the trick, as it almost completely abolished the Being Green feeling for an hour or two--as opposed to partial abolishment, which is typically what happens with Being Green snackage. And then, later in the evening, I ate more yogurt, and almost felt... good. Like if I woke up the next day feeling that good, I might consider... working out.
Unfortunately, such was not the case. However, maybe with a little more help from Stonyfield Farm and COSTCO, I'll only Be a Pale Shade of Lime.
No, not vomit. Because even though I vomited today, yesterday I did not vomit. I feel this may possibly be in part due to something that truly (even if temporarily) made me feel better: yogurt! Yogurt?!
Indeed. Stonyfield Farm fruit-on-the-bottom yogurt, in strawberry and blueberry flavors, which is ever so much healthier for a prego than, say, Oreo Choco-Stix. Pretty much when you're feeling Green, you have to eat something, even if you don't want to. And since you're Green, and feeling sorry for yourself anyway, it follows that you absolutely should have what you're most craving. Pickles, chips and (mild) salsa, meatballs, macaroni and cheese. Yesterday I ate all of these, and then in the afternoon, to combat the 3 PM Being Green Wave, I chose yogurt. And it really seemed to do the trick, as it almost completely abolished the Being Green feeling for an hour or two--as opposed to partial abolishment, which is typically what happens with Being Green snackage. And then, later in the evening, I ate more yogurt, and almost felt... good. Like if I woke up the next day feeling that good, I might consider... working out. Unfortunately, such was not the case. However, maybe with a little more help from Stonyfield Farm and COSTCO, I'll only Be a Pale Shade of Lime.
M's List of the Malcontent
Random Comments:
- Yogurt is very soothing to an upset stomach.
- I woke up cranky bcs i was in the middle of a dream. My thought: figures, i never, get to talk to her!!
- I'm really bored with being me right now.
- Though the shopping spree made me feel slightly better. Okay it was a guilty pleasure. Bcs um, I have debt to pay... shouldn't I look good doing it?? But then how am I getting to Oxford... but then aren't I not going to make it anyway?
- My lips are chapped.
- My shoulders are that thing of gibralter.
- I am underjobbed. Bored of saying that. Bored with all the feelings having to do with that.
- Tired.
- Need to shave.
- Paint.
- Make 2 Necklaces
- Read 10 books
- Write
- Taxes.
- Stop being bored...
- Be less irritating.
- Do not watch sex-scenes with parents
- Keep up the course language
- Sew
- Sleep the sleep of the dead.
Monday, March 5, 2007
4 Months
4 months.
Feeling Abject.
Self-Imposed to Slave Wages.
Campo de Books.
But wasn't that all I could get.
3 Interviews down.
Small Bites.
The Feel Fades.
Comes Crashing.
For a Ray.
A warm light at dawn.
Come Camping.
'cide no.
Spend the days reordering the world.
Topless.
Taxes.
To myself.
Heaps of trash,
Items off the list everyday.
And more tomorrow.
My world none too short of projects.
Keep them coming,
Though progresses slow.
Time follows tardy,
find cats,
find a room of art no one sees,
find debt...
And hope for a change.
Tomorrow.
Feeling Abject.
Self-Imposed to Slave Wages.
Campo de Books.
But wasn't that all I could get.
3 Interviews down.
Small Bites.
The Feel Fades.
Comes Crashing.
For a Ray.
A warm light at dawn.
Come Camping.
'cide no.
Spend the days reordering the world.
Topless.
Taxes.
To myself.
Heaps of trash,
Items off the list everyday.
And more tomorrow.
My world none too short of projects.
Keep them coming,
Though progresses slow.
Time follows tardy,
find cats,
find a room of art no one sees,
find debt...
And hope for a change.
Tomorrow.
Sunday, March 4, 2007
it ain't easy
Last night, around midnight, marked the fateful return of morning sickness. Clearly "morning sickness," being an all-hours affair, is not remotely an accurate term, so I shall heretofore (henceforth?) refer to morning sickness as Being Green. I am not a fan of Being Green. Who is, I know. Being Green prevents one from falling asleep again after sleeping so peacefully for three hours already at least. Being Green is clearly going to make me even more boring of a person than I already have been, these past few weeks. Because before Being Green, at least I could eat.I should have known I would turn Green yesterday, as I was ravenous the whole day through. It was like Pen's Last Supper, or Last Lunch. And Second to Last Lunch, and Third to Last Lunch. Seriously, I had three lunches, as well as dinner, and quite a few cookies. Which, one might argue, may (should) have contributed to Being Green. But Being Green is
***Breaking K.Lo update: the Bug has learned to turn on the TV with the remote, and has chosen to watch Full House. Eeegad. She is currently bopping to the intro music. This can't be good.***
also marked by emptiness. Like your stomach is eating itself, and you should feed it so that it can eat the food instead, but absolutely nothing appeals. And then you feel like you should probably drink some water too, because water is good for you, but water is like, super-gross. So you do nothing, and try to just sleep, try to imagine that it's all fake and part of your overactive imagination. I wish it was. Maybe it is? More on this soon.
Saturday, March 3, 2007
survivor q of the week
About Survivor, I don't have too much to say just yet. You know--you always get attached to characters later in the game, and by that point, the people who were voted out early on seem like a distant memory. I will miss Papa Smurf. I feel I would be the same way on Survivor, absolutely drained, a little Penelope Puddle absorbed in the sand within hours, much less days. All the bug bites, the sunburn, the hunger? It would not be good. I swear the bug bites alone on Papa Smurf could have been his downfall--can't all that bugginess in your bloodstream send your system into shock? What was with Jeffy's update on Papa Smurf's health, however. He won't be coming back. Thanks, Jeff, for that simultaneous display of the vague, ominous, and absolutely uninformative.
What happened to Papa Smurf is not my big question. My big question has to do with that brief nature clip toward the end of the show. As is tradition on Survivor, various nature shots, many of which are to intended to add a level of foreshadowing to the plot, are spliced in every week. We see spiders lurking, crabs creeping, slithering snakes, and fish, lots of fish. Some are pretty astounding and/or gross, but none have ever caught my attention like the one this week:
A snake, I believe a sea snake, literally vomited up another snake. The snake was white, and seemingly just as big as the first. Now, I know snakes typically lay eggs, so... I also know, courtesy of google, that some snakes do give live births. But, through their mouths? The tribe is out on this one. Maybe the first snake ate the second, and decided he didn't like it? Maybe he got what he needed, perhaps vital nutrients from the second snake's color, and then let the not-so-little guy go? I'm at a loss here--please advise. Never have I found a Survivor nature image so arresting, disturbing and confounding. If only I had a picture to illustrate.
In other news, Rocky needs to watch his tantrums, as well as his cross-dressing. I'm dying to see, should Moto ever lose a challenge, if they will have to give up their luxiorious camp a la The Apprentice: LA. And more on Anthony, and what lurks beneath that introverted, wounded-as-a-kid surface? That would be great.
What happened to Papa Smurf is not my big question. My big question has to do with that brief nature clip toward the end of the show. As is tradition on Survivor, various nature shots, many of which are to intended to add a level of foreshadowing to the plot, are spliced in every week. We see spiders lurking, crabs creeping, slithering snakes, and fish, lots of fish. Some are pretty astounding and/or gross, but none have ever caught my attention like the one this week:
A snake, I believe a sea snake, literally vomited up another snake. The snake was white, and seemingly just as big as the first. Now, I know snakes typically lay eggs, so... I also know, courtesy of google, that some snakes do give live births. But, through their mouths? The tribe is out on this one. Maybe the first snake ate the second, and decided he didn't like it? Maybe he got what he needed, perhaps vital nutrients from the second snake's color, and then let the not-so-little guy go? I'm at a loss here--please advise. Never have I found a Survivor nature image so arresting, disturbing and confounding. If only I had a picture to illustrate.
In other news, Rocky needs to watch his tantrums, as well as his cross-dressing. I'm dying to see, should Moto ever lose a challenge, if they will have to give up their luxiorious camp a la The Apprentice: LA. And more on Anthony, and what lurks beneath that introverted, wounded-as-a-kid surface? That would be great.
Friday, March 2, 2007
between complacency and panic
(With a little bit of rage.) So, about being pregnant for the second time. Sometime last fall, shortly before K.Lo became mobile (and Intelligence returned from vacation), I decided yes, I am SO ready for a second baby. It was like, let's GO, let's get on with it, woohoo. And in many ways, I feel the same. It's not something I can really verbalize, it's just, that's what I wish for, another baby. And here I am, on my way.
It was such a short time ago that I had K.Lo, the physicality of pregnancy feels very familiar. And yet... and yet. One very positive thing is that this go-around, I feel I know what to expect. I know that every pregnancy is different, just like every baby, but the basic facts of what will happen, what it will all feel like, are all stored in my Points of Reference. So in a lot of ways, I'm taking it all in stride, la-dee-da, hum-dee-ho, falling asleep on the couch at 9 every night and trying to eat a little healthier this time. I know what's going on.
But then, there are these moments. The wow, really? moments. Like, I did that once? I carried a baby to term and then got the thing out? I feel like I must have been so tough--how was it such a short time ago? I made it through all the blood tests and the unspeakable poking and prodding and the general day-to-day discomfort? Really? Beyond morning sickness, which was absolutely wretched and way too long the first time, I went through the achy waddling phase and the killer heartburn and the contractions and whatever else, too? And lived? I just... it seems slightly impossible to me, in these moments. The moments that are laced with uncertainty and panic.
But I guess... I'm doing it. There's not much turning back now, so.
I went to the doctor this morning, met with everyone's favorite nurse, Vapid J, who has such a pre-programmed list of things to say that I don't think she even really listens or can process her way through a question to give a unique and proper answer, should the situation call for it. Exercise helps you through the nausea, she says. That's my personal favorite. Oh, and the seabands, the fucking seabands for morning sickness. She says she likes them so much, but I'm like, what do you mean, you like them. Have you ever used them, and for morning sickness? I don't think so. I think she likes them because they sound quaint. My wrists had indents in them so deep two years ago from seabands, it made me want to vomit even more. I mean, if they work for you, great, fantastic. But I just want to sit down one day and tell Vapid J where she can stick her seabands--and I would too, if I thought it would make her blink.
Anyway, the second part of the visit involved a blood draw across the street in the new lab building, which I can already tell is going to be a joy to visit on a regular basis. I shouldn't complain, since it's still pretty close, I don't have to drive anywhere for results. And I probably won't have K.Lo with me most of the time, like I did today. The stairs are the first thing that frosted me, but maybe I was just in a bad mood from Vapid J. Then they must keep the place about 62 degrees cold. And then, okay--I know she didn't mean to do it, this lady from the lab. I know she probably draws blood at least 15 times a day perfectly, and I've had my blood drawn several times in life, but--WTF. WTF WTF WTF. When drawing the third vial out, that needle somehow shifted in my vein, and literally took my breath away. My bicep still, STILL, aches an hour and a half later. My arm is blotchy with these weird pale spots and my muscle feels like it's being squeezed and/or bruised. WTF!!!
See, I'm becoming a wuss. With a slight bit of rage. I think I need to get in touch with my complacent side again. I miss Complacent Pen. Maybe a nap would find her again.
It was such a short time ago that I had K.Lo, the physicality of pregnancy feels very familiar. And yet... and yet. One very positive thing is that this go-around, I feel I know what to expect. I know that every pregnancy is different, just like every baby, but the basic facts of what will happen, what it will all feel like, are all stored in my Points of Reference. So in a lot of ways, I'm taking it all in stride, la-dee-da, hum-dee-ho, falling asleep on the couch at 9 every night and trying to eat a little healthier this time. I know what's going on.
But then, there are these moments. The wow, really? moments. Like, I did that once? I carried a baby to term and then got the thing out? I feel like I must have been so tough--how was it such a short time ago? I made it through all the blood tests and the unspeakable poking and prodding and the general day-to-day discomfort? Really? Beyond morning sickness, which was absolutely wretched and way too long the first time, I went through the achy waddling phase and the killer heartburn and the contractions and whatever else, too? And lived? I just... it seems slightly impossible to me, in these moments. The moments that are laced with uncertainty and panic.
But I guess... I'm doing it. There's not much turning back now, so.
I went to the doctor this morning, met with everyone's favorite nurse, Vapid J, who has such a pre-programmed list of things to say that I don't think she even really listens or can process her way through a question to give a unique and proper answer, should the situation call for it. Exercise helps you through the nausea, she says. That's my personal favorite. Oh, and the seabands, the fucking seabands for morning sickness. She says she likes them so much, but I'm like, what do you mean, you like them. Have you ever used them, and for morning sickness? I don't think so. I think she likes them because they sound quaint. My wrists had indents in them so deep two years ago from seabands, it made me want to vomit even more. I mean, if they work for you, great, fantastic. But I just want to sit down one day and tell Vapid J where she can stick her seabands--and I would too, if I thought it would make her blink.
Anyway, the second part of the visit involved a blood draw across the street in the new lab building, which I can already tell is going to be a joy to visit on a regular basis. I shouldn't complain, since it's still pretty close, I don't have to drive anywhere for results. And I probably won't have K.Lo with me most of the time, like I did today. The stairs are the first thing that frosted me, but maybe I was just in a bad mood from Vapid J. Then they must keep the place about 62 degrees cold. And then, okay--I know she didn't mean to do it, this lady from the lab. I know she probably draws blood at least 15 times a day perfectly, and I've had my blood drawn several times in life, but--WTF. WTF WTF WTF. When drawing the third vial out, that needle somehow shifted in my vein, and literally took my breath away. My bicep still, STILL, aches an hour and a half later. My arm is blotchy with these weird pale spots and my muscle feels like it's being squeezed and/or bruised. WTF!!!
See, I'm becoming a wuss. With a slight bit of rage. I think I need to get in touch with my complacent side again. I miss Complacent Pen. Maybe a nap would find her again.
Thursday, March 1, 2007
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