Maybe not officially, but I guess this is what I get for living where I do. I woke up yesterday to four inches of wet, heavy snow. And while it was pretty, it was a pain to deal with. I went out in my pajamas to shovel and brush off the car, and then waited for the plow to go down my hill before I headed out to work. By this point it was raining and the roads weren't that bad. But it's only a matter of time before it's much worse.
But even with the snow on the ground (or what's left of it), it doesn't feel like Christmas is two weeks away. I've got most of my shopping and wrapping done, most of my baking completed, but I'm just not in the same Christmas spirit.
I won't be going to Virginia for Christmas this year, as I normally do. My brother and his family will be coming back up. I'll head down to Baltimore for a long weekend before Christmas and then head back north for Christmas with the majority of my family. Is it awful of me to say that I'm really not looking forward to it?
Yea, it probably is. Oh well.....
In work news, it is official. I'm the interim director of my department. Everyone, or mostly everyone was really excited. And those who probably weren't at least put on a good show. The next few months will be interesting, for sure.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Monday, December 07, 2009
Tiger
It's time to comment on Tiger.
No, he shouldn't have cheated, but anyone who thinks that professional athletes don't cheat as a rule are naive. The athletes who don't cheat are the exception for sure.
Here's the scenario. For most of his life, he was told that he was the greatest. That he had an ability few had. That God actually touched his arm and gave him an ability to hit a golf ball better than anyone one else. He was idolized and people wanted to be around him. Men wanted to be his friend, would do anything for him. Run when he wanted, fetch when he wanted. Women wanted to fuck him. Always. This was a way of life. The only way of life he knew.
Maybe he fell in love, maybe he thought he fell in love. Either way, he got married. But men still wanted to be his friend, would run and fetch when he wanted. And women still wanted to fuck him. And the men who hung around him wanted to help him get away with fucking as many women as he wanted.
This became his new way of life. It worked for him. And maybe it worked for his wife. "Do what you want, but don't bring any diseases home, be a good father and provider, and don't make me look like a fool." I've heard of several wives -- of professional athletes and powerful men -- who had those rules or something similar.
Whatever the agreement between Tiger and his wife is between them. Whatever his wife knew or didn't know, or pretended not to know, is a moot point.
Cheat, don't cheat, but be smart. Tiger's arrogance got the best of him. Where is closest circle of friends (not the hangers-on) were people he vetted, people he trusted, his circle of mistresses should have been the same. And that was his fatal mistake.
He protected his private life, his inner circle, but he was willing to risk it all for sex.
And don't even get me started on these whores who are willing to sacrifice whatever self-respect they had left for 15 minutes of fame on the cover of the National Enquirer.
I'm not a perfect person, I've made my mistakes and committed my sins, but never would I air my dirty laundry, never would I sell conversations, never would I purposely hurt someone I once supposedly cared about (even if I hated him).
No, he shouldn't have cheated, but anyone who thinks that professional athletes don't cheat as a rule are naive. The athletes who don't cheat are the exception for sure.
Here's the scenario. For most of his life, he was told that he was the greatest. That he had an ability few had. That God actually touched his arm and gave him an ability to hit a golf ball better than anyone one else. He was idolized and people wanted to be around him. Men wanted to be his friend, would do anything for him. Run when he wanted, fetch when he wanted. Women wanted to fuck him. Always. This was a way of life. The only way of life he knew.
Maybe he fell in love, maybe he thought he fell in love. Either way, he got married. But men still wanted to be his friend, would run and fetch when he wanted. And women still wanted to fuck him. And the men who hung around him wanted to help him get away with fucking as many women as he wanted.
This became his new way of life. It worked for him. And maybe it worked for his wife. "Do what you want, but don't bring any diseases home, be a good father and provider, and don't make me look like a fool." I've heard of several wives -- of professional athletes and powerful men -- who had those rules or something similar.
Whatever the agreement between Tiger and his wife is between them. Whatever his wife knew or didn't know, or pretended not to know, is a moot point.
Cheat, don't cheat, but be smart. Tiger's arrogance got the best of him. Where is closest circle of friends (not the hangers-on) were people he vetted, people he trusted, his circle of mistresses should have been the same. And that was his fatal mistake.
He protected his private life, his inner circle, but he was willing to risk it all for sex.
And don't even get me started on these whores who are willing to sacrifice whatever self-respect they had left for 15 minutes of fame on the cover of the National Enquirer.
I'm not a perfect person, I've made my mistakes and committed my sins, but never would I air my dirty laundry, never would I sell conversations, never would I purposely hurt someone I once supposedly cared about (even if I hated him).
Saturday, December 05, 2009
Holding the Ship Steady
That's the way it felt this week. After a good ultrasound the previous week, I'm just holding steady waiting for Ginger Spice (what we have decided to call my egg donor, so much better than referring to her as "the donor") to get her period this month for her mock cycle. Once that happens, I should have a better idea of the timing for January.
So until then, I hold steady, take my prenatal vitamins, do my abdominal self-massage, go for the abdominal massage every other week, and wait until it's my turn.
I truly believe in "everything happens for a reason." And finally things are maybe starting to make sense. I lost my pregnancy last year. If I had had the baby, I wouldn't have applied for the development position. I didn't get the development position, but interviewing gave me a confidence in my job I haven't had since I left Baltimore.
And that confidence helped me land the interim director my department, following my boss's recent departure. And so for the next six months, give or take, I will be the head of my department, with a chance to shine and a nice pay bump.
And so, even though it's temporary, it's going to give me the opportunity the build up the nest egg that has slowly dwindled over the past two years. It will give me the opportunity to enhance my career.
Best case scenario.....I am the interim director until June, a new executive director is hired and I help with his/her transition, and then a few months later, go out on maternity leave.
Everything happens for a reason....and maybe, just maybe, it's starting to make sense.
Last night, while I slept restless most of the night, thinking about how some people in my office will react to me getting the appointment of interim director and them not, I also had a dream about a baby. A little girl, with red hair and blue eyes. And she was mine. And I felt a peace I've never felt. And I believed it. It was real...or it will be.
So until then, I hold steady, take my prenatal vitamins, do my abdominal self-massage, go for the abdominal massage every other week, and wait until it's my turn.
I truly believe in "everything happens for a reason." And finally things are maybe starting to make sense. I lost my pregnancy last year. If I had had the baby, I wouldn't have applied for the development position. I didn't get the development position, but interviewing gave me a confidence in my job I haven't had since I left Baltimore.
And that confidence helped me land the interim director my department, following my boss's recent departure. And so for the next six months, give or take, I will be the head of my department, with a chance to shine and a nice pay bump.
And so, even though it's temporary, it's going to give me the opportunity the build up the nest egg that has slowly dwindled over the past two years. It will give me the opportunity to enhance my career.
Best case scenario.....I am the interim director until June, a new executive director is hired and I help with his/her transition, and then a few months later, go out on maternity leave.
Everything happens for a reason....and maybe, just maybe, it's starting to make sense.
Last night, while I slept restless most of the night, thinking about how some people in my office will react to me getting the appointment of interim director and them not, I also had a dream about a baby. A little girl, with red hair and blue eyes. And she was mine. And I felt a peace I've never felt. And I believed it. It was real...or it will be.
Thursday, December 03, 2009
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Triple Layer
I had a great Thanksgiving in Syracuse, complete with my family from Richmond. We did dinner on Wednesday, so that everyone could dinner with their in-laws on Thursday. I headed back to Ithaca for dinner at a friend's house.
As much as I was looking forward to seeing her, I would have been content in my pj's for the rest of the day. I really hate going places solo. I'm not a good single person. But as expected, once I got there, it was a great day with her brothers, father, step-mother, boyfriend and another single friend. I even went out to a bar after dinner with them for the first half of the Giants game.
I got up early on Friday to drive BACK to Syracuse for a doctor's appointment. The vaginal estrace is apparently a miracle worker. My lining was 12mm (the most it can be) and I had triple layers. Exactly what they want to see.
I may or may not get a period this month. My donor will start hers around December 10, and I'll go back in then for an ultrasound, and at that point, they will put me on more medicine to sync me up with her. She begins shooting up for a mock cycle and we are still on track for a January retrieval and transfer.
I'm excited, and at the same time, so reserved. It's so hard to gear myself up for all this again. So hard to not relive every little moment of disappointment when I had a negative blood test and then when there was no heart beat on my ultrasound. I wish I could just forget all of that, and go back to that place I was in in August 2007, when I thought that there was absolutely no way that I wouldn't get pregnant.
I know my chances of getting pregnant via the egg donor are miles better than any of my previous attempts, but still, I'm still hesitant to give myself over again, still gun shy of going through the pain again.
I hope that will change as I continue toward retrieval and transfer. I went to church tonight (for the first time in at least two months) and prayed for guidance. I may not ever know why I'm on this path, but life has to be more than this. I just hope that it is.
As much as I was looking forward to seeing her, I would have been content in my pj's for the rest of the day. I really hate going places solo. I'm not a good single person. But as expected, once I got there, it was a great day with her brothers, father, step-mother, boyfriend and another single friend. I even went out to a bar after dinner with them for the first half of the Giants game.
I got up early on Friday to drive BACK to Syracuse for a doctor's appointment. The vaginal estrace is apparently a miracle worker. My lining was 12mm (the most it can be) and I had triple layers. Exactly what they want to see.
I may or may not get a period this month. My donor will start hers around December 10, and I'll go back in then for an ultrasound, and at that point, they will put me on more medicine to sync me up with her. She begins shooting up for a mock cycle and we are still on track for a January retrieval and transfer.
I'm excited, and at the same time, so reserved. It's so hard to gear myself up for all this again. So hard to not relive every little moment of disappointment when I had a negative blood test and then when there was no heart beat on my ultrasound. I wish I could just forget all of that, and go back to that place I was in in August 2007, when I thought that there was absolutely no way that I wouldn't get pregnant.
I know my chances of getting pregnant via the egg donor are miles better than any of my previous attempts, but still, I'm still hesitant to give myself over again, still gun shy of going through the pain again.
I hope that will change as I continue toward retrieval and transfer. I went to church tonight (for the first time in at least two months) and prayed for guidance. I may not ever know why I'm on this path, but life has to be more than this. I just hope that it is.
Friday, November 27, 2009
The best way to get woken up at 6:52am on Thanksgiving....
If you have to be woken up at all.
I heard the phone beep. Who the hell could be texting me before 7am on Thanksgiving? Everyone should be sleeping. I rolled over and picked up the phone, squinting at the brightness.
"Text from E"
I smiled a sleepy smile and flipped open the phone. "Happy Thanksgiving gorgeous."
I turned ESPN on, commercial. And then a few minutes later, I heard his voice. He texted during a SportsCenter break.
If only he lived closer...
I heard the phone beep. Who the hell could be texting me before 7am on Thanksgiving? Everyone should be sleeping. I rolled over and picked up the phone, squinting at the brightness.
"Text from E"
I smiled a sleepy smile and flipped open the phone. "Happy Thanksgiving gorgeous."
I turned ESPN on, commercial. And then a few minutes later, I heard his voice. He texted during a SportsCenter break.
If only he lived closer...
Monday, November 23, 2009
A shitty afternoon
Not because I heard from one of my closest friends that she's pregnant, but because I am feeling sorry for myself over it. It was an unplanned pregnancy -- she has an 11-month-old -- and she said all the right things when she told me.
And I'm happy for her. I really am. And I know I shouldn't compare myself to other people, but really, am I that horrible of a person that I can't have this. And I'm not saying that she shouldn't have this, doesn't deserve this. Good for her. She has a beautiful little girl, and another baby on the way.
But really? She gets to be married and have two kids, and I've got nothing. That's the way I feel. And again I say, I'm really really happy for her. But I don't know how many more of these I can go through graciously. I really don't.
There doesn't seem to be any break between people having babies or being pregnant. Everyone else except me.
I'll feel sorry for myself tonight. Maybe tomorrow. And then I'll suck it up and smile and be happy and say all the right things and shop for baby presents for other people and want to hear about the pregnancy and the doctor's appointments and the baby name options. Again and again and again.
And I'm happy for her. I really am. And I know I shouldn't compare myself to other people, but really, am I that horrible of a person that I can't have this. And I'm not saying that she shouldn't have this, doesn't deserve this. Good for her. She has a beautiful little girl, and another baby on the way.
But really? She gets to be married and have two kids, and I've got nothing. That's the way I feel. And again I say, I'm really really happy for her. But I don't know how many more of these I can go through graciously. I really don't.
There doesn't seem to be any break between people having babies or being pregnant. Everyone else except me.
I'll feel sorry for myself tonight. Maybe tomorrow. And then I'll suck it up and smile and be happy and say all the right things and shop for baby presents for other people and want to hear about the pregnancy and the doctor's appointments and the baby name options. Again and again and again.
Friday, November 20, 2009
I know my sex life is way more interesting....
but here we are back on the infertility bandwagon.
I had a lining check this morning. They like it to be about 7mm; mine was 5.8. So they've upped my estrace from three orally to three orally and two vaginally. I go back next week for another check.
I saw my favorite nurse today, who has twins with an egg donor. I told her if this works, then she'll have to help me figure out how to tell my kid. Her response? "I don't know what I'm going to tell my own kids yet."
I guess, I can figure it out when the time comes. No need to put the cart before the horse, or the where you came from talk before I'm actually knocked up.
I'm trying to figure out how to fit E into my life in December. I texted him a few days yesterday, but never heard back from him. Tonight, no mention of the text from yesterday. I got a "hi baby" (the usual) and then "tell me something so nasty...."
So we've texted back and forth for a little while, and the best I got (while still keeping the power and not seeming needy) was "perfect baby, you can have anything you want" and "soon."
I'll leave it at that for now.
I had a lining check this morning. They like it to be about 7mm; mine was 5.8. So they've upped my estrace from three orally to three orally and two vaginally. I go back next week for another check.
I saw my favorite nurse today, who has twins with an egg donor. I told her if this works, then she'll have to help me figure out how to tell my kid. Her response? "I don't know what I'm going to tell my own kids yet."
I guess, I can figure it out when the time comes. No need to put the cart before the horse, or the where you came from talk before I'm actually knocked up.
I'm trying to figure out how to fit E into my life in December. I texted him a few days yesterday, but never heard back from him. Tonight, no mention of the text from yesterday. I got a "hi baby" (the usual) and then "tell me something so nasty...."
So we've texted back and forth for a little while, and the best I got (while still keeping the power and not seeming needy) was "perfect baby, you can have anything you want" and "soon."
I'll leave it at that for now.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
boys boys boys
I'm a pretty independent woman, not because I really want to be, but because I have to. I've bought two new cars by myself, negotiating the best deal I could. I change the propane tank on my grill and grill steaks and burgers. I kill spiders and discard of dead mice when Casey proudly delivers them to me. I investigate strange noises in the middle of the night and take out the trash. Hell, I'm even trying to have a baby without a boy.
But every so often, something presents itself, something happens, something comes up, when I just want a boy in my life to take care of it for me. I want a boy for:
* the obvious
* kissing and cuddling after the obvious
* knowing where to take my car so I don't have to pay outrageous prices at the dealership
* helping me make a decision about what to do with the aging cat with irritable bowel syndrome who sleeps at the end of my bed (and sometimes poos on the floor)
* going out in the snow to cut down a real Christmas tree
I'm positive there are more things I want a boy in my life for, but right now, those are the ones that come to mind.
boys boys boys
we like boys in cars
boys boys boys
buy us drinks in bars
boys boys boys
with hairspray and denim
boys boys boys
we love them
--boys boys boy by Lady Gaga
But every so often, something presents itself, something happens, something comes up, when I just want a boy in my life to take care of it for me. I want a boy for:
* the obvious
* kissing and cuddling after the obvious
* knowing where to take my car so I don't have to pay outrageous prices at the dealership
* helping me make a decision about what to do with the aging cat with irritable bowel syndrome who sleeps at the end of my bed (and sometimes poos on the floor)
* going out in the snow to cut down a real Christmas tree
I'm positive there are more things I want a boy in my life for, but right now, those are the ones that come to mind.
boys boys boys
we like boys in cars
boys boys boys
buy us drinks in bars
boys boys boys
with hairspray and denim
boys boys boys
we love them
--boys boys boy by Lady Gaga
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Recycling
I found a new blog by accident tonight. I checked on my site meter -- I'm always curious to see where ya'll are from. I know my usuals -- Mountainview, CA; Baltimore; Mechanicsville, VA. Tonight I had Ireland and New Delhi. And the referring URL to my blog was this other single gal.
And so in honor of the other single girl on blogger, I'm borrowing her post and making it my own.
Feel free to join in in comments or on your own blog!
Yourself: Amazingly content, considering
Your partner: Still waiting, but hopeful
Your hair: Long, red, gorgeous
Your mother: Drives me crazy and I can't imagine life without her
Your father: I'm more like him than I ever realized
Your favorite item: not sure, but off the top of my head, my brown Mary Jane's
Your dream last night: that I went to see E and didn't have time for a pedicure
Your favorite drink: drink drink? vodka and 7 or beer, depending on the location and company
Your dream car: black, sleek, convertible
Your dream home: huge front porch, fireplace in the kitchen, lots of character
The room you are in: my bedroom
Your ex: hmmmm.....they're all married
Your fear: of being alone
Where you want to be in ten years: to be a mom - being a wife as well would be a bonus
Who you hung out with last night: the Time Warner guy fixing my wireless connection
What you're not: cold-hearted
Muffins: only eat the tops
One of your wish list items: my own house
Time: sometimes feels like it's slipping away with nothing to show for it
The last thing you did: took a shower after the gym
What you are wearing: pajama bottoms, t-shirt
Your favorite weather: hot, hot, hot
Your favorite book: how to choose?!
Last thing you ate: cheerios for dinner
Your life: has its ups and downs
Your mood: not sure
Your best friends: couldn't live without them
What are you thinking about right now: how much I love my friends
Your car: rocks! how did I live without four-wheel drive in upstate New York before now
What are you doing at the moment: sitting in bed, watching Two and a Half Men
Your summer: not here soon enough
Relationship status: hopelessly single
What is on your tv: the aforementioned Two and a Half Men
What is the weather like: cold, clear skies, lots of starts
When is the last time you laughed: tonight at the gym
And so in honor of the other single girl on blogger, I'm borrowing her post and making it my own.
Feel free to join in in comments or on your own blog!
Yourself: Amazingly content, considering
Your partner: Still waiting, but hopeful
Your hair: Long, red, gorgeous
Your mother: Drives me crazy and I can't imagine life without her
Your father: I'm more like him than I ever realized
Your favorite item: not sure, but off the top of my head, my brown Mary Jane's
Your dream last night: that I went to see E and didn't have time for a pedicure
Your favorite drink: drink drink? vodka and 7 or beer, depending on the location and company
Your dream car: black, sleek, convertible
Your dream home: huge front porch, fireplace in the kitchen, lots of character
The room you are in: my bedroom
Your ex: hmmmm.....they're all married
Your fear: of being alone
Where you want to be in ten years: to be a mom - being a wife as well would be a bonus
Who you hung out with last night: the Time Warner guy fixing my wireless connection
What you're not: cold-hearted
Muffins: only eat the tops
One of your wish list items: my own house
Time: sometimes feels like it's slipping away with nothing to show for it
The last thing you did: took a shower after the gym
What you are wearing: pajama bottoms, t-shirt
Your favorite weather: hot, hot, hot
Your favorite book: how to choose?!
Last thing you ate: cheerios for dinner
Your life: has its ups and downs
Your mood: not sure
Your best friends: couldn't live without them
What are you thinking about right now: how much I love my friends
Your car: rocks! how did I live without four-wheel drive in upstate New York before now
What are you doing at the moment: sitting in bed, watching Two and a Half Men
Your summer: not here soon enough
Relationship status: hopelessly single
What is on your tv: the aforementioned Two and a Half Men
What is the weather like: cold, clear skies, lots of starts
When is the last time you laughed: tonight at the gym
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
This Made My Night
I got the following email from Clownface, someone I've known my whole life, someone who was my school friend since the 4th grade.
Holidays are coming up, ripe with family ambivalence. I'm thinking of you and hoping you are ok. Love, -cf-
Holidays are coming up, ripe with family ambivalence. I'm thinking of you and hoping you are ok. Love, -cf-
Monday, November 16, 2009
Mock Cyle
And so it begins. Right after I got back from Vegas, I got a phone call from the FG's office. They found someone to share my egg donor with me. And here we go.
It's hard to get back into the mindset that this could really be happening again, hard to think about the hope and the possible disappointment. But, I have a few months before there there is that actual possibility.
November -- my mock cycle. I got my period last week and have been taking estrace three times a day to build up my lining. I'll go on Friday for an ultrasound (I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to leaving my house at o-dark-hundred and driving to Syracuse) and to see how things look. This will be my exam, to confirm that the environment (my uterus) is favorable.
December -- the donor's mock cycle. She'll begin shooting up, as I used to, to make her ovaries jiffy pop. They will monitor how long it takes for her follicles to reach maturity. And at the same time, me and the other barren woman will be on various meds so that our cycles are in sync -- with each other and the donor.
January -- show time! The donor will shoot up, and we'll be preparing our uteruses (uteri??) for the embryos. And so sometime after the first of the year, they'll do the egg retrieval with the donor, and a few days later, transfer embryos into us.
I love the idea of my baby having a potential half sibling out there. And I'm starting to get excited again, excited about the possibilities, excited about being pregnant. Just excited that I still have options.
It's hard to get back into the mindset that this could really be happening again, hard to think about the hope and the possible disappointment. But, I have a few months before there there is that actual possibility.
November -- my mock cycle. I got my period last week and have been taking estrace three times a day to build up my lining. I'll go on Friday for an ultrasound (I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to leaving my house at o-dark-hundred and driving to Syracuse) and to see how things look. This will be my exam, to confirm that the environment (my uterus) is favorable.
December -- the donor's mock cycle. She'll begin shooting up, as I used to, to make her ovaries jiffy pop. They will monitor how long it takes for her follicles to reach maturity. And at the same time, me and the other barren woman will be on various meds so that our cycles are in sync -- with each other and the donor.
January -- show time! The donor will shoot up, and we'll be preparing our uteruses (uteri??) for the embryos. And so sometime after the first of the year, they'll do the egg retrieval with the donor, and a few days later, transfer embryos into us.
I love the idea of my baby having a potential half sibling out there. And I'm starting to get excited again, excited about the possibilities, excited about being pregnant. Just excited that I still have options.
Friday, November 13, 2009
I Got Lured
I was weak. Weak from my cold and the lack of sleep.
I've missed him, I admitted as much last week. And Bubbles corrected me and said, you don't miss J, you miss the idea of J. Even so it was nice to hear those beeps at 1:45am.
And I was feeling neglected. Sure, I heard from E over the past few days, but we've yet to set a date. And regardless of how things were left in Vegas, it is totally out of character that I didn't hear from Chris, that he didn't call or email to make sure I got home safely.
And so, when I leaned over my night stand to put another cough drop in my mouth and heard the beeps, I was lured.
"Hey"
I thought about it. Actually put the phone down, and then picked it back up. "Hey what?"
"Ha! Just wanted to say hi."
Okay, that seems innocent enough. "Hi. Are u drunk?"
"A little :) Is that ok?"
This can stay on the straight and narrow. I can do that. "Of course. Have one for me"
"Thanks baby. You doin ok?"
This one caused me to seriously pause. He doesn't call me baby, never has. I might get babe from him, but E calls me baby. "yea, just about to start the egg donor process. hoping to be preggo by feb?"
"that a girl, in nj with friends"
"have fun." And then this is where I should have ended up it, where I should have said good night. "Did you see my new tat. I posted a pic of it on FB"
"No! Tell, I'm turned on."
"Behave. I'll send a pic" And so I sent the same picture posted on FB, the same picture I've posted here.
"Where is it? We need to talk"
"Its on shoulder blade. Isn't it awesome"
"yes, very sexy...well done. we talking?"
"I got it in Vegas, and unless you're calling in the next 5 minutes, i need to go back to sleep"
The phone rang. An hour later, I hung up.
Annie: You didn't get "lured". Women never get lured. They're too strong and powerful for that. Now say it -- "I didn't get lured and I will take responsibility for my actions".
Millie: I didn't get lured and I will take responsibility for my actions.
Annie: That's better.
--Bull Durham
I've missed him, I admitted as much last week. And Bubbles corrected me and said, you don't miss J, you miss the idea of J. Even so it was nice to hear those beeps at 1:45am.
And I was feeling neglected. Sure, I heard from E over the past few days, but we've yet to set a date. And regardless of how things were left in Vegas, it is totally out of character that I didn't hear from Chris, that he didn't call or email to make sure I got home safely.
And so, when I leaned over my night stand to put another cough drop in my mouth and heard the beeps, I was lured.
"Hey"
I thought about it. Actually put the phone down, and then picked it back up. "Hey what?"
"Ha! Just wanted to say hi."
Okay, that seems innocent enough. "Hi. Are u drunk?"
"A little :) Is that ok?"
This can stay on the straight and narrow. I can do that. "Of course. Have one for me"
"Thanks baby. You doin ok?"
This one caused me to seriously pause. He doesn't call me baby, never has. I might get babe from him, but E calls me baby. "yea, just about to start the egg donor process. hoping to be preggo by feb?"
"that a girl, in nj with friends"
"have fun." And then this is where I should have ended up it, where I should have said good night. "Did you see my new tat. I posted a pic of it on FB"
"No! Tell, I'm turned on."
"Behave. I'll send a pic" And so I sent the same picture posted on FB, the same picture I've posted here.
"Where is it? We need to talk"
"Its on shoulder blade. Isn't it awesome"
"yes, very sexy...well done. we talking?"
"I got it in Vegas, and unless you're calling in the next 5 minutes, i need to go back to sleep"
The phone rang. An hour later, I hung up.
Annie: You didn't get "lured". Women never get lured. They're too strong and powerful for that. Now say it -- "I didn't get lured and I will take responsibility for my actions".
Millie: I didn't get lured and I will take responsibility for my actions.
Annie: That's better.
--Bull Durham
Monday, November 09, 2009
World Series Hangover
I stayed up for practically every inning of every Yankees play-off game. I was expecting to feel tired, I wasn't expecting to instantly get sick from the lack of sleep. But there is was the day after the win, a little tickle in my throat. Hurt when I swallowed, that tell-tale sign of post-nasal drip.
The day after it was worse. And for the past three days, my throat has been a combination of pins and needles and fire. I can't do enough to keep it wet and lubricated. I can't even sleep to get away from the pain. It's impossible to keep your throat wet while lying down, eyes closed and searching for REM.
Last night was a five freezey pop night -- as in five times between 11pm and 5am, I got out of bed, walked down the stairs, pulled a freezey pop out of the freezer and climbed the stairs back into bed. I have perfected sleeping for five minutes before needing to bite off another frozen chunk from the plastic tube, without spilling it in my bed.
I went to the doctor this morning. It is not the flu (swine or otherwise), it is not strep (which is where I would have laid good money). It is a sore throat. I managed to convince the doctor that I need to sleep, that is really the best thing for me. And so in her kindness, she wrote out a prescription for cough medicine with codeine. I'm hoping it will a) number my throat and 2) knock me out. Maybe not in that order.
I'm getting the sexy voice, unfortunately it hurts too much to talk to be able to share it with anyone. I carry a water bottle with me at all times. At work today (I actually felt human getting up and showering and going into the office for a few hours), I made the mistake of walking to my in box without my water. Dragon fire in my throat until I could get a drink. It's not pretty.
I'm hoping the good drugs -- and the stopping at McDonald's for a milk shake -- will do the trick. I don't know if I can handle any more days like the past three or four have been.
The day after it was worse. And for the past three days, my throat has been a combination of pins and needles and fire. I can't do enough to keep it wet and lubricated. I can't even sleep to get away from the pain. It's impossible to keep your throat wet while lying down, eyes closed and searching for REM.
Last night was a five freezey pop night -- as in five times between 11pm and 5am, I got out of bed, walked down the stairs, pulled a freezey pop out of the freezer and climbed the stairs back into bed. I have perfected sleeping for five minutes before needing to bite off another frozen chunk from the plastic tube, without spilling it in my bed.
I went to the doctor this morning. It is not the flu (swine or otherwise), it is not strep (which is where I would have laid good money). It is a sore throat. I managed to convince the doctor that I need to sleep, that is really the best thing for me. And so in her kindness, she wrote out a prescription for cough medicine with codeine. I'm hoping it will a) number my throat and 2) knock me out. Maybe not in that order.
I'm getting the sexy voice, unfortunately it hurts too much to talk to be able to share it with anyone. I carry a water bottle with me at all times. At work today (I actually felt human getting up and showering and going into the office for a few hours), I made the mistake of walking to my in box without my water. Dragon fire in my throat until I could get a drink. It's not pretty.
I'm hoping the good drugs -- and the stopping at McDonald's for a milk shake -- will do the trick. I don't know if I can handle any more days like the past three or four have been.
Sunday, November 01, 2009
Vegas Recap, part 2
Once Chris left, I was exhausted. Emotionally and physically. Friday night I didn't sleep well -- I think my mind was over-stimulated from everything that is Las Vegas. And Saturday, I was worried about him.
I called Bubbles, a bit teary, and she talked me out of my funk. "You are a fucking rock star. You only get to be in Vegas for a few more hours, make the most of it. Don't let him being a jerk get you down. Don't make his issues yours.
"You are not going to sit in your room for the rest of the day. Go get a fabulous dinner tonight, go to a bar and watch the game, walk around the strip, go gamble some more. Do not call me until you are back in your room, and it better not be until midnight."
She was right. And so while I was waiting for closer to my 40th birthday, I figured it would make a great story to get my new tattoo in Vegas. At Vince Neil's tattoo parlor, no less. I had brought a print out of the picture of my avatar with me, just in case. I guess, this was the just in case moment.
I washed my face, forgot about Chris being a jerk, and headed out into the sunshine. I went into the parlor and like a strong, confident woman, handed over my picture and asked if I could see what the tattoo artist could draw up for me. The girl behind the counter took the picture back to him and said he would have something for me in about 30 minutes.
I said I'd be back, and walked further down the strip. I got a bottle of water and window shopped. Thirty minutes later, I was standing with a John Popper look-alike as he showed me his rendering of my baseball heart. It looked awesome. We talked about where I wanted it, and before I knew it, my shirt was off and I was laying on the table. My 40th birthday tattoo was going on.
No turning back now. Would it have been fun if Chris had been there with me while I got it? Of course, but this could be a defining moment for me. I would make it be.
Tattoo was finished, and after a quick look in the mirror, it was bandaged and I was on my way for next adventure. I walked down to the Bellagio, and watched two fountain shows. I teared up a little – they were more beautiful than I ever imagined.
And the inside of the hotel is just as amazing. Blown glass ceiling, atrium, fancy shops, marble columns. I want a boy to take me there, and even if we can’t afford to stay there, he can simply feel me up behind a pillar. It has become the American version of my Bridge of Sighs romantic fantasy.
It was getting close to game time, so I headed back towards my hotel. I saw Elvis along the way and got my picture taken with him. How could I be in Las Vegas and not get my picture taken with Elvis? I found a micro-brewery bar inside the hotel and sat down before the end of the first inning.
Beer in hand, baseball in front of me, and Chris being a jerk was long forgotten. By the middle of the fourth, I was getting hungry and headed over to the Burger Joint for another beer and a burger. I thought about going back into the casino after dinner, but all of the smoking (thank you smoke-free NY) was getting to me and my head was congested.
I figured I had turned things around enough that six or seven hours of fabulous single girl time in Vegas was good enough. I filled the bathroom with steam to clear my head, washed up as best I could without getting the bandage on my back wet and hunkered down for the rest of the game.
Vegas was fun and I can’t wait to go back, but I think next time I really will go with Bubbles.
I called Bubbles, a bit teary, and she talked me out of my funk. "You are a fucking rock star. You only get to be in Vegas for a few more hours, make the most of it. Don't let him being a jerk get you down. Don't make his issues yours.
"You are not going to sit in your room for the rest of the day. Go get a fabulous dinner tonight, go to a bar and watch the game, walk around the strip, go gamble some more. Do not call me until you are back in your room, and it better not be until midnight."
She was right. And so while I was waiting for closer to my 40th birthday, I figured it would make a great story to get my new tattoo in Vegas. At Vince Neil's tattoo parlor, no less. I had brought a print out of the picture of my avatar with me, just in case. I guess, this was the just in case moment.
I washed my face, forgot about Chris being a jerk, and headed out into the sunshine. I went into the parlor and like a strong, confident woman, handed over my picture and asked if I could see what the tattoo artist could draw up for me. The girl behind the counter took the picture back to him and said he would have something for me in about 30 minutes.
I said I'd be back, and walked further down the strip. I got a bottle of water and window shopped. Thirty minutes later, I was standing with a John Popper look-alike as he showed me his rendering of my baseball heart. It looked awesome. We talked about where I wanted it, and before I knew it, my shirt was off and I was laying on the table. My 40th birthday tattoo was going on.
No turning back now. Would it have been fun if Chris had been there with me while I got it? Of course, but this could be a defining moment for me. I would make it be.
Tattoo was finished, and after a quick look in the mirror, it was bandaged and I was on my way for next adventure. I walked down to the Bellagio, and watched two fountain shows. I teared up a little – they were more beautiful than I ever imagined.
And the inside of the hotel is just as amazing. Blown glass ceiling, atrium, fancy shops, marble columns. I want a boy to take me there, and even if we can’t afford to stay there, he can simply feel me up behind a pillar. It has become the American version of my Bridge of Sighs romantic fantasy.
It was getting close to game time, so I headed back towards my hotel. I saw Elvis along the way and got my picture taken with him. How could I be in Las Vegas and not get my picture taken with Elvis? I found a micro-brewery bar inside the hotel and sat down before the end of the first inning.
Beer in hand, baseball in front of me, and Chris being a jerk was long forgotten. By the middle of the fourth, I was getting hungry and headed over to the Burger Joint for another beer and a burger. I thought about going back into the casino after dinner, but all of the smoking (thank you smoke-free NY) was getting to me and my head was congested.
I figured I had turned things around enough that six or seven hours of fabulous single girl time in Vegas was good enough. I filled the bathroom with steam to clear my head, washed up as best I could without getting the bandage on my back wet and hunkered down for the rest of the game.
Vegas was fun and I can’t wait to go back, but I think next time I really will go with Bubbles.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Vegas Recap, part 1
I had my interview last Thursday. It was exhausting -- a full day of interviews from 10:30 to 4 plus a presentation. And at the end of the day, I'm still not even sure I even want it. I guess if I'm offered the job, I can ask for 24 hours to make a decision and worry about then.
I was getting ready to leave the office when my sister called my cell phone to say that my mom was in the hospital with chest pains. There was lots of worrying, and lots of reassurance that I should still go to Las Vegas.
I drove up to Syracuse early on Friday to see her before going to the airport, and felt better that it was more along the lines of an anxiety attack than anything to do with her heart. Once at the airport, I got my boarding pass and headed toward security only to not be able to find my license.
I went back to the ticket desk and they calmed me down and found it in my wallet, under a credit card, not where it belonged. Suddenly, I started wondering if these were signs I shouldn't be getting on a plane and heading west to see Chris.
I called Bubbles who said I was excited, it was a coincidence, relax, enjoy the anticipation of going, etc. All the right things.
A quick flight to JFK and then four hours on the plane to Las Vegas. I got in about an hour before Chris and took that time to brush my teeth and hair, freshen up and play some slots in the airport, and talk to my mother (who had since been released from the hospital and was home). I sat across from his gate and got really excited when his plane finally landed.
We took a shuttle to the airport and spent the next four or five hours walking around the casino, gambling, getting dinner, drinking. It was so much fun. Saturday was much the same way. We were up early, walked up and down most of the strip, got something to eat, and then sat at the same black jack table for eight hours.
It was so much fun to talk to different people, find out where they were from, talk to the dealers. And it was fascinating to watch how the casino was run, the pit bosses, all the cameras, security, etc. Like a movie.
Saturday night , after we were back in the room for a while, he decided to go back down to gamble. I fell asleep, but fitfully with him not next to me. Finally at 6:30, I threw jeans on and went down looking for him. He came back to the room about 7am, and when I said I was worried, he said he didn't need drama. That started a chain reaction of a bit of a fight, which was temporarily interrupted by a text from E.
For a split second, I thought about throwing it in his face. It would have felt good and given me satisfaction for exactly 30 seconds, and then it would have sucked forever. I'm not that girl. So I said nothing, other than I needed to text in a question for my friend who was hosting a show on ESPN.
He asked who it was, and I said E's name non-chalant and then went to take a shower. As soon as I was out, Chris asked how I knew him. "I thought I told you, I'm the coolest chick you know. People want to know me."
He followed me into the bedroom while I put lotion on my legs. "Seriously, how do you know him?"
I took a deep breath. I can't. "I did use to work in professional sports."
"Oh right." And that was that. "So, we're good."
"We are but...." Did I want to get into this? I had to. "You were a jerk last night."
"Why's that?"
"Remember when you came back from Iraq and the first time we were together, I told you how distant you were and how it made me feel?"
"Yea." He knew what was coming.
"You were like that last night. You were distant. You fucked me and then you left for seven hours to go gamble. And I was worried. If something happened, I wouldn't know."
"No, you wouldn't. And that's just the way it is."
"And I accept that. I have never had any expectations from you, you know that. But you will not treat me like a whore." I've never wanted anything more from him. We're friends with benefits, we see each other a few times a year (more when he's in Syracuse), but I've never pushed him to make a commitment to me, never wanted him to.
I was proud of myself, not only for standing up for myself but also for not crying, no matter how tired I was. "You're right. I'm sorry."
We were both exhausted on Sunday, but managed to have fun. We walked outside for a little while, gambled and then had lunch. He had to head to the airport by 2:30 to catch his flight (he was due back at the base that evening, or he was AWOL).
Part 2....the single girl's day in Vegas, flying solo
I was getting ready to leave the office when my sister called my cell phone to say that my mom was in the hospital with chest pains. There was lots of worrying, and lots of reassurance that I should still go to Las Vegas.
I drove up to Syracuse early on Friday to see her before going to the airport, and felt better that it was more along the lines of an anxiety attack than anything to do with her heart. Once at the airport, I got my boarding pass and headed toward security only to not be able to find my license.
I went back to the ticket desk and they calmed me down and found it in my wallet, under a credit card, not where it belonged. Suddenly, I started wondering if these were signs I shouldn't be getting on a plane and heading west to see Chris.
I called Bubbles who said I was excited, it was a coincidence, relax, enjoy the anticipation of going, etc. All the right things.
A quick flight to JFK and then four hours on the plane to Las Vegas. I got in about an hour before Chris and took that time to brush my teeth and hair, freshen up and play some slots in the airport, and talk to my mother (who had since been released from the hospital and was home). I sat across from his gate and got really excited when his plane finally landed.
We took a shuttle to the airport and spent the next four or five hours walking around the casino, gambling, getting dinner, drinking. It was so much fun. Saturday was much the same way. We were up early, walked up and down most of the strip, got something to eat, and then sat at the same black jack table for eight hours.
It was so much fun to talk to different people, find out where they were from, talk to the dealers. And it was fascinating to watch how the casino was run, the pit bosses, all the cameras, security, etc. Like a movie.
Saturday night , after we were back in the room for a while, he decided to go back down to gamble. I fell asleep, but fitfully with him not next to me. Finally at 6:30, I threw jeans on and went down looking for him. He came back to the room about 7am, and when I said I was worried, he said he didn't need drama. That started a chain reaction of a bit of a fight, which was temporarily interrupted by a text from E.
For a split second, I thought about throwing it in his face. It would have felt good and given me satisfaction for exactly 30 seconds, and then it would have sucked forever. I'm not that girl. So I said nothing, other than I needed to text in a question for my friend who was hosting a show on ESPN.
He asked who it was, and I said E's name non-chalant and then went to take a shower. As soon as I was out, Chris asked how I knew him. "I thought I told you, I'm the coolest chick you know. People want to know me."
He followed me into the bedroom while I put lotion on my legs. "Seriously, how do you know him?"
I took a deep breath. I can't. "I did use to work in professional sports."
"Oh right." And that was that. "So, we're good."
"We are but...." Did I want to get into this? I had to. "You were a jerk last night."
"Why's that?"
"Remember when you came back from Iraq and the first time we were together, I told you how distant you were and how it made me feel?"
"Yea." He knew what was coming.
"You were like that last night. You were distant. You fucked me and then you left for seven hours to go gamble. And I was worried. If something happened, I wouldn't know."
"No, you wouldn't. And that's just the way it is."
"And I accept that. I have never had any expectations from you, you know that. But you will not treat me like a whore." I've never wanted anything more from him. We're friends with benefits, we see each other a few times a year (more when he's in Syracuse), but I've never pushed him to make a commitment to me, never wanted him to.
I was proud of myself, not only for standing up for myself but also for not crying, no matter how tired I was. "You're right. I'm sorry."
We were both exhausted on Sunday, but managed to have fun. We walked outside for a little while, gambled and then had lunch. He had to head to the airport by 2:30 to catch his flight (he was due back at the base that evening, or he was AWOL).
Part 2....the single girl's day in Vegas, flying solo
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
What happens in Vegas....
probably should stay in Vegas. But I will update this and the other blog in the next few days.
One of the highlights of the trip...my new tat (look it's my avatar from this blog!)
One of the highlights of the trip...my new tat (look it's my avatar from this blog!)
Saturday, October 17, 2009
The Week in Review and the Week Ahead
It seemed like a really long week and that the weekend would never get here. I was almost glad that I didn't have to fit in an E trip. I don't know if I updated that he had called me the previous week to tell me he had something come up at the Worldwide Leader and had to work on Monday.
As disappointed as I was that I wouldn't get to see him, I was actually relieved. It would have been doable, but it probably would have been one thing too much. And so that night we chatted, me in my bed, him in his, instead of us together. One of these days, we'll make it work.
Once I made my phone call to Baltimore, I was able to think about (and worry about) my upcoming interview. I have the schedule and now know that I have to give a 10-15 minutes presentation, to which the entire division has been invited.
Earlier this week, it was keeping me awake. I just didn't know how to start it. And I kept saying, I need to have it done before the weekend. As I wrote down random thoughts and talked to my friends at work, I started to feel more comfortable about it. It's not done before the weekend, but it's pretty close.
And so then I can start to plan for the other big thing this week. Vegas! I have what I'm wearing pretty set in my head. I bought all airline-approved sized bottles for my carry-on. And Chris and I are both getting really excited.
So for the rest of the weekend.....finishing my presentation, packing, manicure/pedicure, clean the house.
And the week.....three days of work, three days of gym (maybe four), interview from 10:30 to 4:00 on Thursday, and then Vegas on Friday.
Vegas, baby!
As disappointed as I was that I wouldn't get to see him, I was actually relieved. It would have been doable, but it probably would have been one thing too much. And so that night we chatted, me in my bed, him in his, instead of us together. One of these days, we'll make it work.
Once I made my phone call to Baltimore, I was able to think about (and worry about) my upcoming interview. I have the schedule and now know that I have to give a 10-15 minutes presentation, to which the entire division has been invited.
Earlier this week, it was keeping me awake. I just didn't know how to start it. And I kept saying, I need to have it done before the weekend. As I wrote down random thoughts and talked to my friends at work, I started to feel more comfortable about it. It's not done before the weekend, but it's pretty close.
And so then I can start to plan for the other big thing this week. Vegas! I have what I'm wearing pretty set in my head. I bought all airline-approved sized bottles for my carry-on. And Chris and I are both getting really excited.
So for the rest of the weekend.....finishing my presentation, packing, manicure/pedicure, clean the house.
And the week.....three days of work, three days of gym (maybe four), interview from 10:30 to 4:00 on Thursday, and then Vegas on Friday.
Vegas, baby!
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Painful Memories
I woke up in the middle of the night the other night, and like a movie, replayed my two pre-natal ultrasounds. I was laying there in the dark, eyes open. And I saw the heart beat, my baby's heart beat. And then the second one, when there was none.
I remembered going into work after that, in a trance, because I didn't know what else to do. And then the D&C a few days later, and the physical pain and bleeding for the next two weeks. And the emptiness.
I laid in bed, 2:30am, tears rolling down to the corner of my eye, over the bridge of my nose and across the other eye, where it met another tear.
I can go weeks without thinking about the fact that I was once pregnant, with nothing to show for it. And then suddenly, I remember, and it hits me so hard. I don't even think about how unfair it all is, just that it hurt.
I remembered going into work after that, in a trance, because I didn't know what else to do. And then the D&C a few days later, and the physical pain and bleeding for the next two weeks. And the emptiness.
I laid in bed, 2:30am, tears rolling down to the corner of my eye, over the bridge of my nose and across the other eye, where it met another tear.
I can go weeks without thinking about the fact that I was once pregnant, with nothing to show for it. And then suddenly, I remember, and it hits me so hard. I don't even think about how unfair it all is, just that it hurt.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
The Bambino vs. the bambino
That's really what it came down to. My decision about Baltimore and moving back there. I thought long and hard. I woke up early thinking about. I stayed awake late thinking about it.
I didn't talk to a lot of people about it. Mostly because I knew they wouldn't make the decision for me. Or maybe because in my hear I knew what my decision was and I didn't want to be talked out of it.
Either way, this morning I called Mike and told him that it killed me to say it, but I couldn't accept the job. And then I started to cry. I told him that I needed to be where I had a strong support system, that I couldn't have gone through what I have over the past two and a half years without the support I have up here, and I'm still going through it.
And even if that all worked itself out, if suddenly I a baby was dropped into my lap, I knew what commitment the Museum needed from me five years ago, and I can only imagine the kind of commitment it would need now. And so it came down to the fact that I can't live, breath and eat the Babe Ruth Museum and be a mom. I can't work every Saturday, can't work six days a week in the office and seven days a week out of the office and be a mom, not a good mom.
He understood. He told me he loved me, that I always had a family down there, but he knows that it's not the kind of family I need right now.
I called Johnny Z after that and told him before Mike could. He took it well, and told me it was the right decision. That I needed to take care of myself first, and at this point in my life, with what I'm trying to accomplish, I can't give up the stability of working at a college vs. the instability of a museum that is always worried about cash flow.
I could have done great things there, but I know that now is not the time to go back and put my stamp back on that place. And once the decision was made, I don't feel bad about it, I'm not second-guessing it. And that, as sad as I am for some reasons, feels good.
I didn't talk to a lot of people about it. Mostly because I knew they wouldn't make the decision for me. Or maybe because in my hear I knew what my decision was and I didn't want to be talked out of it.
Either way, this morning I called Mike and told him that it killed me to say it, but I couldn't accept the job. And then I started to cry. I told him that I needed to be where I had a strong support system, that I couldn't have gone through what I have over the past two and a half years without the support I have up here, and I'm still going through it.
And even if that all worked itself out, if suddenly I a baby was dropped into my lap, I knew what commitment the Museum needed from me five years ago, and I can only imagine the kind of commitment it would need now. And so it came down to the fact that I can't live, breath and eat the Babe Ruth Museum and be a mom. I can't work every Saturday, can't work six days a week in the office and seven days a week out of the office and be a mom, not a good mom.
He understood. He told me he loved me, that I always had a family down there, but he knows that it's not the kind of family I need right now.
I called Johnny Z after that and told him before Mike could. He took it well, and told me it was the right decision. That I needed to take care of myself first, and at this point in my life, with what I'm trying to accomplish, I can't give up the stability of working at a college vs. the instability of a museum that is always worried about cash flow.
I could have done great things there, but I know that now is not the time to go back and put my stamp back on that place. And once the decision was made, I don't feel bad about it, I'm not second-guessing it. And that, as sad as I am for some reasons, feels good.
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