not to fuck up the mojo or anything

but 155 sounds pretty damn good to me


Fireworks for Cali, because it is about fucking time.
And all together now with the WOO and the HOO!!!!!!

for some distraction....

moar funny pictures



Don't get too distracted, I'm trying to get pregnant here!

CD 12, high on old Clear Blue, crazy amounts of eggwhite CM and a bare smidge of hope for this Cycle of Almost Hopeless Last Chances, because very, very, very good things are happening at the very top levels of the IVP. Things that are not yet bloggable because I don't want to fuck with the mojo. But be joyous, my friends, good things are happening.

(shh...tiny link, so as not to fuck up the mojo)

how to be a good guest

• show up
• bring your nice bf
• spoil cats
• chat in bathroom while brushing teeth
• clip cats' claws
• pick up host from airport, thereby saving said host long, long nighttime drive
• make self at home
• leave delicious cookies
• love cats more than host does
• put up with rather large group of rather raucous company early xmas morning
• put on appropriate holiday themed music for aforementioned rather raucous company when host forgets that stereo exists
  
• talk in Cute Animal Voice™ to cats

Bonus:

• strip sheets from guest bed
• don't leave (please)

The Boston kids are leaving. *sigh*

good tidings of great joy

Home.

After a shitty, shitty Day O' Travel, I am home. And, thanks to my very own Boston Girl and Boy, the cats are happy and have been well-manicured in my absence.

And there is a fire and whiskey and friends over. And tomorrow there's folks coming for Breakfast Carbs and coffeez. Hooray and yay!

Merry, merry Everything to you, my friends.

the wagon

There's these folks in central va who have recently started roasting their own coffee, after years of running a coffee shop downtown. It's delicious, and their kids are fucking cute. Long ago, back in the day, my Seattle friend, the girl one, and I used to get coffee from them. So I thought it would be nice to bring a bag of their coffee out here with me. Here being Seattle, specifically the couch in apartment 304. Anyway. I was up with the new baby from a little before 5 on, so the other adults could get some real sleep in, and round about 7 (when it was still dark - wtf?) I scrounged around and found the press-pot and made some coffee. Oh, god - so good. Especially with cookies that some kind person had brought over.

You see, I've "given up" coffee in the name of ttc (don't laugh - it's sort of true). Several years ago, I picked up the Toves and Brill book at Babeland (yes, I bought a book about getting pregnant at a s.ex toy store) and one of the things they talk about is giving up coffee. So I did. It was easy. I'd always loved it, but never really *needed* it to wake up. Morning is great - who needs coffee? Really, giving it up was no big deal at first, but then, I started to miss it. Coffee is good, y'all. So good. I think I'll have another cup...... You, see? Fabulous. So I've been on and off coffee for a while now: I'll drink it pretty regularly when if I'm taking a break, but mostly I have green tea in the mornings (helpful for CM, or so say many of the Alterna-Fertility Sources) and a weekly treat of coffee plus the occasional other cup, say, if some kind soul brings us coffee at work or cho-girl needs an afternoon coffee date. I'd like to tell you that the result of all this is that I am now knocked up. But, no. The real result of all this abstaining is that I love coffee even more. And appreciate it. Absence, even just occasional absence, makes the heart grow fonder. And I am fond of you, dear, dear coffee. So fond of your deliciousness and bitter tastiness and fragrant steam. And yes, I will become one with you the whole fucking time I am in Seattle and it will be great. Great, I tell you.

Another libation I've given up - sort of - is alcohol. We'll say sort of because I only really abstain during the two week wait. Otherwise, I'll live it up. Well, not really, as my tolerance has dropped to the level of a giggling first year sorority girl. *sigh* But, as with coffee, the lack has lead to an even greater appreciation. A more full savoring, you might say. Whiskey - good stuff.

What's so fascinating about all this, if you're fascinated by the less-than intricate workings of my body and psyche, is that it become abundantly clear that I am not a teetotaler. Not in the literal/historic sense, nor in the figurative sense. I'm not really into doing or not doing *anything* religiously. I fascinate myself. Ha.

Also speaking of addiction, I have a real soft spot for my computer, which I am posting on as we speak! Any other posts or electronic communication has gone out by way of my friend's computer, which she is unendingly generous with, but I've missed my machine. One might say I've been going through withdrawal, or one might simply note the joyousness of our current reunion. As you know from previous posts, I've been unable to connect to the wireless network here for unknown reasons, but just now I found an unprotected one. In fact, the mainbody of this post was written 2 days ago. Thank you, oh trusting holder of the network zoom. Thank you.

Off to make some custard.

withdrawl and ratios

I've got a small bone to pick with Apple. Since I upgraded to the new OS, I can't seem to use my friends' secure wireless networks. Even after they give me the password. It's happened here in Seattle and, looking back, I wonder if that was what was going on in Boston. Anyway, I am stealing my friend's computer while she naps. With the baby and her husband. I am jonesing for my machine - I really, really miss the two-finger scroll. Not an Euphemism. I swear.

I've been IM-ing with Sophie, which is always entertaining, as it gives me a different, distanced sense of her. Not seeing her in front of me somehow lets me see her in a new light - she seems older, funnier. Minus the tweener-speak crap - "u" for "you" and that sort of shit. But really, y'all, the kid's a riot:

Sophie: i wrapped ur present 2day!!!

me: you mean, my pony?!

Sophie: uh yeah... (cough cough)

i needed sooo much wrapping papr to wrap it!!!

me: aw - i think i'll name it.....ummmm.....

paco!

paco the pony

is he cute?

say yes!

Sophie: hahaha

yeah totally....

me: thank god - i would give him back if he weren't cute

Sophie: paco the pony... real smart...

I'm always telling her I want a pony when she asks me what I want for my birthday or Christmas. I miss her a bunch. We always do run-of-the-mill holiday things once school ends, like walk downtown to look at the gingerbread houses and bake cookies and go to movies and lay around and read. But I'm not there. Oh, well - after I get home I'll get my fix.

In other, new baby news, things are good - we took Small Fruit Baby to the doctor today and she's gained 8 ounces since birth on Monday. Kid's a rock star. The birth was crazy intense, but things are as smooth as they can be now. Her daddy needs to write down her birthstory, because, god damn, the man can write. Other than the doctor outing, we're doing a lot of nothing - laying around eating, cooking and tidying (2 of my faves!), passing the baby, trying to convince her that day is day and night is night. I am more and more convinced that a ratio of 3:1 is perfect for newborns.

Oh! And? I drove! In a strange city! And did not get lost or scared!

oo! oo! me! pick me!

I got tagged for a meme! By Gold Star! We both have "star" in our fake names! Oh, boy!


1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate?
egg nog - from my aunt Jesse's recipe

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree?
both ways, Santa goes both ways

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white?
white on the tree, none on the house this year because I'm slack

4. Do you hang mistletoe?
when I can get it - last year's is still up

5. When do you put your decorations up?
whenever Sophie is willing to decorate and after the cho-boys bring me my tree

6. What is your favorite holiday dish?
Commonwealth Special

7. Favorite Holiday memory as a child.
ummmm...... all of them? Except the one when I was 5 and puking.

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?
from my ever-truthful mama; this is a total lie, she'd still be playing along if she could - really I learned the truth about Santa from a Laura Ingalls Wilder book

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas eve?
when I was a kid, we'd do one and only one on Christmas Eve, but now I open all my teacher gifts then

10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree?
with a lot of commentary from Sophie

11. Snow! Love it or dread it?
love, love, love

12. Can you ice skate?
nope

13. Do you remember your favorite gift?
nope

14. What is the most important thing about the Holidays for you?
time off from work! Woo and Hoo! (And my friends, and my families.) And time off from work!

15. What is your favorite Holiday dessert?
popcorms! And hot toddies! And eggnog!

16. What is your favorite Holiday tradition?
folks coming to visit and having popcorms and hot toddies and egg nog with me, and making fun of Jesus, and looking at lights with Sophie, and having more folks over for Commonwealth Special Christmas Morning

17. What tops your tree?
a dove - peace, yo

18. Which do you prefer giving or receiving?
what was the question?

19. What is your favorite Christmas song?
Shotgun Shells on a Christmas Tree, plus anything sung at the the Annual Country Christmas by LB

20. Candy Canes! Yuck or Yum?
Yum!


Yay! Memes! I tag.....ummmm..... Chicory and cho-girl, and Cali.

So, for reals, I got a virtual copy of this meme from Sophie, my pretend child, by way of email just a few days ago. It was full of "r" instead of "are" and shit like that. Ah, pre-adolescence.....
'Kay, y'all. My computer is not playing nice with the internets here in Seattle, although all other things are good, so I'll post as I can.

Merry Everything, y'all

gospel of the Season

Or, good news always outweighs bad.

So, yes, my adoring fans, you do not have to give up on this being a ttc blog - my period started last night and so I'll be trying again shortly. You know you're excited!

Also, everybody in blogland is getting snow, except us here in Central VA. Do you know why? Because now we are Richmond. When I was a kid, back in the day, we got snow good and proper: a few small storms of a couple inches each, and every other year or so a Big Snow - a couple feet. And, back in the day, Richmond would get ice and rain when we got snow, or so the weather reports said. And now? There are calls for snow, and we get rain and ice. We are Richmond now. I am not so much a fan of Richmond.

Anyway, the real news, the Good News, is that there is a new baby come. A tiny girl born early today in Seattle to my dear friends there.

For I have observed her star at its rising and will go to pay her homage.

oh, the days of crappiness, they go on and on

I have been sick. This is distressing for any number of reasons, the foremost of which is My Reputation. See, I don't get truly sick. I mean, really, I just don't and yesterday, I left work early, and so - adios, Reputation. Plus, being sick sucks. You forget when it doesn't happen to you much.

Have some lists.

Crap:

1. crazy Thursday afternoon/evening involving vehicle mix-ups, lots of driving, worry about people I love being in pain, frantic cooking and food delivery, scalding my hand with recently boiling water, and growing Dread about my dearly beloved car (2 rounds of crying over all this - final one prompted by the scalding)
   
2. beginnings of feeling sick
3. confirmed Dread about my dearly beloved car with bonus well-intentioned but still lame-o comments from mechanic who delivered the news
4. worse and worse feeling sick
5. spending money to get soon-to-be-gone but still dearly beloved car from shop - money that didn't even get them to open the long broken trunk latch. (I should have been more demanding, but I had to get out of the office before I started to cry. Ugh. Crying.)
6. shitty news from Cali, who is due for good news, not shit
7. skipping 2 xmas parties that I actually wanted to leave the house for
   
8. negative hpt

And the Less-Than-Crap:

1. well-intentioned mechanic, who saved me a great deal of money by refusing to work on my dearly beloved car
2. good, good folks at work who covered my ass so I could leave work early when sick
3. sleeping on the couch with the cats
   
4. Sophie's Irish Music performance Friday night (it was good, actually really good!)
   
5. my dad bringing firewood into the house so I wouldn't have to
6. my roommate feeding the cats and tending the fire so I could sleep late (the cats lied to me about being fed, though. Pigs)
   
7. cho-girl and the not-so-small-cho, aka Service Boy, also bringing firewood into the house
8. fabulous news by way of the IVP and FF about babies coming and correct numbers of eggs
9. eating lunch and feeling better
10. birthday alert from Friendster. For Jesus. His birthday is almost here.
    

The Less-Than Crap seems to outweigh the Crap. Whew.

I found a new blog today and she describes the post-ovulation phase as " akin to taking a potato peeler to your skin." Yep.

I'd been pretty good with the wait this go-round: no cloth diaper website trolling, very little angst, no planing of the joyous "it worked!" Caved post, no mentally rehearsing the even more joyous "it worked!" phone call to my mama, occasionally not even thinking about it. Nice, huh?

I just can't shake the nagging feeling that it didn't work - my temps were wack, I couldn't pinpoint ovulation and somewhat randomly manually overrode FF to set it for 2 Saturdays ago. So it looks like I'm 14 dpo, but really, it could be 13. I expect to be bleeding tomorrow (all the weeping, you know). And from there I'll move on to the monitoring cycle the RE wants to do and then the dye-test and meds and IUI's. So much for DIY-AI. Oh, well.

Meanwhile, I only have 2 days of school left! And, did I tell you I am going to Seattle? Woo and Hoo! To see a baby be born! Or to coddle my friends through the last long days of pregnancy.

go, go, go!

Eggs for you, Cali.
I'm all triple crossed over here, babe.

brava

So I was late to Sophie's orchestra concert. Luckily, the 5th graders played first and then a bunch of them left, with their families in tow, so I scooted down the aisle and sat down with Sophie's mama and stepdad and big (as in my age big) brother. Her dad and stepmom were there, too. The kid's got a village, man. It's particularly entertaining when we all show up for back-to-school night. Anyway.

Did I mention she's first chair violin? Hmmmm, why, yes, I did! Did you know that means she was the concertmaster? Do you know what the concertmaster does? She walks in after the rest of the orchestra is seated and they all stamp their feet (and we, the ever-adoring audience, clap) and she bows, to us, the ever-adoring audience, and then turns and plays her A string (I could be making this part up, as I have no idea what the hell goes on with a violin) and then the rest of the orchestra plays their A string, or whatever, and then she sits down and the concert starts. At least, that's what a concertmaster does at her school. The bow was quick and to the point, but, oh the poise once she turned around to give that first note to the orchestra. Amazing. And she was lovely. So, so beautiful with her hair pulled back just at the top and her skirt "with a chain," as she puts it and tiny black flats. Cute, yes, because she still little enough that doing something as adult as playing in an orchestra is cute, but also beautiful, like young girls are as you see them come into themselves.

friday ( but really monday) meme

C**** likes to mash people to nothingness while playing hockey
C**** likes to read, play sports, watch baseball, ...
C**** likes to be needed, as well as ...
C**** likes to play "old" music, and I have learned to enjoy the music he plays. .
C**** likes to stay busy. At Santiam Christian, she was a stalwart catcher on the softball team, a regular ...

From Good Search, not Goo.gle.

Why are all of these about sports? And staying busy? It's like the anti-me. Weird.

I tag all of you, and yes, that means you.
Put "likes to" with your name tacked on the front into your fave search engine and post what you like to do. Or don't like to do, as was the case for me.

in case you don't read the comments

(from Darren, of course)

i <3 lists

(I love a list, y'all - love, love, love a list. So tidy, so organized, so.... list-y.)

Things I saw on my way to the Valley today:

• One tall skinny white kid picking his butt on Main st. Really - he had several fingers up in there; I think it was an underpants problem. I laughed aloud. Loudly.
• The total and complete lack of the typewriter store. Oh, noes! I'd been meaning to get new typewriter ribbon there for years - litterally years. It was just over the bridge from my house, not a 5 minute walk and I always forgot to go in and get ribbon. And now? It is Teh Gone. I said, "oh, dear!" aloud. Really. (As a very, very sad commentary on the state of my town, there will probably be a ((good but)) overpriced restaurant there shortly. Let's play guess who will own it!)
• Millions of students crossing the street willy-nilly in front of any car they could. Yes, I did stop for them, but did they wave in thanks? Nope. Kids these days.
• Yet another skinny white kid (the place is lousy with them) - this one was doing something weird with his hair. He had both hands up in it, head bent down slightly and was shaking and ratting it around as if there was a spider in there he just had to get out. Then he thew his head back up, all Ferrah Fawcett-ish (or, rather just like my best friend in 2nd grade, Allison, used to do to get her "wangs" right), and looked smug. I was at a light, so I got to watch the whole damn thing. And, yes, I laughed outright again. And yes, I was alone in the car this whole time.

The rest of the drive was the usual - prettier than a picture. I took the slow way, 250 up to Afton and then 64 back down and over. The trees were all bare and a bazillion colors of brown and gray, except for a good-sized stand of pines off to the right just as you start to come down the west side of the mountain. I drove home in the dark and so there was less to see. Sorry to let y'all down.

my president

Stolen from Hope.

clipped from a214.ac-images.myspacecdn.com

truth and lies

I won't lie to you. The body of this post is shamelessly cut and pasted from an email that is now a year old. It's still all true, though, except that now she is twelve. Lord.

Tomorrow, Sophie will be eleven.

Old, I say. Today, she got her haircut and asked for layers in the
front and though she had to sit in the kids' chair at Jodie's to get
the haircut, she now looks old. Adolescence is looming, I tell you.
I'd cry if I were the crying type. She pulled a curl from the
sweepings on the floor and gave it to me, because she knows I love
the perfect curl that grows from the left side of the nape of her neck.

When she was little, I could carry her from my old house to the bank
on High street. She was always tired after school and she'd fall
asleep on my shoulder and I'd balance her on the ledge at the bank to
sign checks while she slept, open mouthed, on my shoulder. The folks
at the bank always said something about how cute she was. In her
brown and fringy leather cowgirl vest and skirt that nearly fell off
because she was so skinny.

When I first started keeping her, we used to drive back to her house
in Belmont and get stuck on the bridge over the tracks at 5, as the
sun went down in the fall, and I'd tell her to look at the sky
because the clouds were so pretty and because she was a captive
audience to my awed ramblings. Sometimes she interrupts herself now
to point out the sky to me.

She mows the grass for me. For real. She is good at it now. She
always volunteers when I say there is yard work to be done and she
once mentioned casually that she liked mowing the patches of clover
the best because she liked to watch the clover leaves pop around as
she ran the mower over them.

She had me read a story she's writing for school today and said she
wanted me to edit it, not just read it. And it was remarkably free
of spelling mistakes and was funny. Truly funny.

She got a poor grade in social studies last term and she has pulled
it up and is very quietly proud. (I am loudly proud.)

She says, "I knew that," in a very sassy fashion when she is caught
unawares. Mostly, I hate this, but it is also a little endearing,

She holds the door for me when we go places.

She and H***** have the exact same color hair and Sophie is so, so
good with her.

She yells, "honk," as loud as she can when we pass the peace
demonstrators with their honk for peace signs.

She has begun to have dreams about celebrities but she still believes
in Santa.

She had her first orchestra concert yesterday, and she looked
slightly bored. And very 80's with her slouchy boots.

She is planing on buying her birthday party favors with her own
money, prompted by no one.

She washed the car windows in the freezing cold for me today when I
got gas on Harris st.

She still thinks she can teach me to ride a bike.

Tomorrow, she will be eleven.

What? You wanted to know about my RE appointment? Haha. Maybe another day. It was good.

oh, right!

This is a ttc blog, isn't it? Do we really care about who's died recently or how I transport myself to work? Nope. All we care about is my girl-parts and what they are doing.

So I've got an appointment with an RE on Thursday. Time to ramp it up I guess. He comes highly recommended by a couple few friends in town and here's hoping I've got good coverage for fertility treatments (and no, I haven't called them to find out). I am very unclear on just what we'll be doing Thursday, which will be CD 17. It's too early for the 7 dpo bloodwork, too late for any ovarian monitoring, right? I am so in the dark about this shit. I plan to take my charts from good old FF and the copy of my 7 dpo bloodwork from July that show my low progesterone levels and normal prolactin and normal thyroid. If I can find them. What else do I need?

The thought of clomid scares me shitless. The horror stories of bad moods and general crazy-feeling make me very, very leery of taking it. I simply cannot be in a medication-induced bad mood at work. I might kill some children. According to my FF charts, I am pretty clearly ovulating, so I hope that the clomid option doesn't even make an appearance. But still, I am scared of it.

In my usual, backwards, pseudo-superstitious way, I think that simply making the appointment with this doctor will make this most recent cycle work. Plan for the worst, hope for the best, as it were. Also, my ambivalence about the timing (When the fuck did I ovulate? Just how long does this Bio-Tranz sperm live anyway? 12 hours like frozen? 5 days like fresh? Who the fuck knows?) this cyle is also clearly A Sign that it worked. But let's not jinx it by talking about it too much, 'kay? Thanks.

In this same vein, I am almost out of firewood and so it might snow. Except now it won't, as I have jinxed it by talking about it. Logic - my BFF.

In other ttc news, my boobs are sore. WTF, boobs? It's only 3 dpo (I think - my temps are fucked this cycle) and there is no reason for you to be sore. *sigh* Bodies. So Confusing.

also for remembering...

Somehow I missed the news of Jane Rule's death. There's a good obit here, by way of Alison Bechtel.

All us queer kids now stand on the shoulders of those folks who came out when coming out wasn't cool, as the saying goes, and for that, I am eternally grateful.

warm

Yesterday, at An Event, I was reminded by a friend about walking to work. Well, how it really went was she asked, in the context of a conversation about endophins, how often I was walking, and I, somewhat shamefaced, had to admit to not very often recently. Oh, I had all the excuses - it's dark when I get up, it's hard to deal with picking up Sophie without the car, catching the bus home is too tightly scheduled and I'm too tired to walk all the way after school, blah, blah, blah.

Anyway.

I got my ass out of bed when my alarm went for for Teh Daily Temping (97.2ºF again? WTF?) instead of snoozing 4 or 5 times and was fed and out the door by 7:20. Woo and Hoo? Yep. I had Little Star on my ipod and the sky was clear. The sun was up, but things were still just pink and the park was empty as I cut through to cross over by the courthouse. All the early commuters in their mini-vans with dozing children and the construction workers rushing late in their pickups were not near as happy as I was on the sidewalk. It was Teh Cold though. Or rather, it would have been, except while at the above Event, another friend had gifted me with the warmest ever Pseudo Gloves. They are about as long as my arm, and have holes for my thumbs, and are kind of like extra sleeves. So it was cold, but I was not. Not cold in the least, a little over heated by the time I got to school, in fact.

So, yes, Woo and Hoo! I think I'll walk again tomorrow, since Sophie has crap at her school until late. Did I mention she's first chair violin? Well, she is.

lest we forget

I was reminded last night, by J over at Cheese and Whine, that it is World AIDS Day today.
May we never forget all the folks we've lost.