caved

2008-06-16T21:12:00.001-04:00

Me and the rest of the cool kids are over at wordpress.

and on a far more entertaining note

2008-06-06T00:23:00.002-04:00

Thanks for the love, y'all. Honest. Thanks. I hooked up with a whiskey and the IVP as soon as I got home tonight.

Meanwhile, while I was out, the black cat was chez-cho. Or, rather, at Spa CHO.

CD1

2008-06-04T21:32:00.000-04:00

Yeah, you read that right. Woo and not hoo.

endless summer starting

2008-05-26T21:28:00.003-04:00

Good god, it's like I don't even live here anymore.

There was a bit I caught on the radio this evening about how since the 4th of July is considered a day to celebrate our country's birth, maybe today should be held as a day to grieve, not just a day of cookouts. I do love a good hamburger, though. Anyway, happy Memorial Day, y'all. This is stolen from LesbianDad (source of so many good things), who brought it up from the depths of Democratic Underground. No, I'm neither a Quaker nor a Christian, and yeah, it's long, but read the whole thing.

A Pacifist's Memorial Day Pledge

As a Quaker and a Christian, I have been an anti-war activist since I first carried a black banner of mourning in a Memorial Day parade during the Vietnam war. I lived in a small town full of dyed-in-the-wool supporters of the war and President Nixon, who were shocked and scandalized that I was not joining in as they praised the Lord and passed the ammunition. All I could think of was the brothers, fathers, sons, nephews, cousins over there getting their asses shot off because military contractors couldn’t bear to see their profits go down, and hawkish politicos couldn’t bear to admit they were wrong and take their medicine.

They called me “disrespectful” then. I told them I had plenty of respect for the poor guys getting blown to hell and back, but still more respect for those who were honest enough to tell the truth about the war. That I had little respect for those who believed the lies our government was telling them because it was more comfortable that way, and none at all for the greedy bastards telling the lies to make money or stay in power.

I was not very popular.

In some circles, I’m still not. War is an admission of failure. War never solves problems, it only changes the problems’ nature. In the short run, wars can produce change that looks like resolution, but all they really accomplish is to put off the inevitable. Sooner or later, someone will have to deal with the root causes of the problems; the only question is how many wars do we want to have to delay that necessity?

And wars are always more expensive than addressing the root causes of the problems. We do little to deal with social and economic and political injustice because of the price tag, yet the price tag in lives and dollars of the wars that inevitably result from those injustices is infinitely higher. And the longer we put it off, the higher the price.

Are some wars inevitable? Are some necessary for survival? Is it possible for war to be a lesser evil?

Yes. But only because we first committed the greater evil of ignoring the causes of war. Committing that greater evil can sometimes make war the lesser evil, but all the greater tragedy for that.

We do not live in a perfect world. Not everyone shares my views. Sometimes military action can be part of a solution, when we have already procrastinated too long or been too stingy to solve the problems in their early stages, when non-military solutions are still possible. In an imperfect world, even a pacifist can benefit from the presence of a strong, committed, ethical military, led by men and women of integrity and dedicated only to defending the helpless and being the last resort against tyranny.

I am deeply grateful for the benefits such a military conveys upon me. I know that I would not have the freedom to pursue my pacifist agenda without their strong shield in this dangerous world. How very ironic, isn’t it?

I recognize the unhappy necessity of their existence, and I recognize the individual courage, commitment, and devotion each member of the services has shown to protecting me. In return, I pledge this: I will never rest from my efforts to ensure that every single other solution is tried before sending you into harm’s way. Your willingness to sacrifice your lives for me demands nothing less.

And I pledge this:

To uphold my own commitment to the well-being of you and your families, in gratitude for your commitment to protect me and my freedom.

I will support fair and generous compensation, including educational and retirement benefits, for your service.

I will support the highest quality medical care and treatment for you and your families.

I will support—and demand—that the training and equipment given to every service member is of the highest quality available to ensure their safety on the battlefield.

I will demand that the elected leadership to whom your commanders are ultimately responsible hold themselves personally accountable for your safety, in all decisions pertaining to sending you in harm’s way.

And I will continue to work, every single day, to advance the skill of humanity to solve our problems without resorting to war.

I shared this pledge once, many years ago, with my father, who was a Marine. He listened, and I thought he would point out how silly and idealistic I was being. There was a funny expression on his face by the time I was done and I thought he was going to tear into me, for sure. For my “disrespect,” maybe, or my “impractical” dreams. I didn’t realize at first that he was trying not to shed tears (because Marines don’t, ya know.)

Finally he said, softly. “Hoo-raw, baby. Semper fi,” and caught me up in a big hug. I miss him so much.

Happy Memorial Day, Daddy. Semper fi, from your pacifist little girl.

proudly,
Bright

not dead

2008-05-19T21:30:00.004-04:00

Did you think I was? Oh, internets. I've missed you. There's all sorts of news, but y'all will have to live in the dark a while longer, because it's late enough for me to go to bed.
I am, as I think I noted, back at the theater and it's fab. But busy, which I'd sort of forgotten. More to come, I swear.

Worthy of quick note:
*sperm washed and IUI-ed on Friday. Seems to be a sort of don't ask, don't tell type of thing.
*home insem Saturday.
*finally got a peak from old Clear Blue. On Sunday. *sigh* Too late for the IUI, and also, I think, for the home insem. Who the fuck knows. Nothing darker than a ghost on the opks. Weird, yes? Could I have gotten a bad batch? And how the hell do I know when to start the prometrium with no positive opks to go on?
*school mother's day gifts done and done - 6 days of school left. Six. Yay.
*special home project due to start tomorrow - woo!

Lunch: left overs from last nights' dinner with cho-girl, which we ate prior to Fertility Hennaz™ - white beans with a nice bit of bacon for tastiness, beet greens with tiny, tiny beets still attached, and orange slices from snack. Log your lunch, y'all. You know you want to.bonus pic - fertility hennaz™ (there are some on my belly of course, but I didn't get a picture of those in their finished state)

lunch et cetera

2008-05-12T17:21:00.003-04:00

Today's lunch: lamb summer sausage from the sheep's milk cheese lady, cucumber from the hothouse farm south of town, strawberries from some of the tidewater farms, sourdough (!) with butter. All local all the time. Except then I went a ruined it by scrounging some ranch dressing from Kraft or something like that.

Day's of school left: 11. That's eleven, in case you're counting, which I am.

Still no word from the sperm washing guy. Hmmmm. May be another DIY insem.

recap + lunches

2008-05-09T23:11:00.003-04:00

Quick, while the popcorms are doing their thing on the stovetop.

*2 nights of dress rehearsal and one tornado watch
*mother's day gifts done and done (whew)
*recovering black cat and multiple meds plus new diet of canned food (also whew and eewww)
*additional meds for me (day 2 of femara)
*message left for guy in charge of sperm washing machine
*lawn mowed
*semi-surly pre-teen carted around
*jambalya made by my roommate (good food in the house that I didn't make?! yay!)
*gimlets on the back deck with I (gimlets - woo! back deck - woo!)
*popcorms

And lunches. Yesterday and today: weird pseudo-humus thing on pita with chips and doctored-up salsa. Also known as Mother's Day Lunch in the primary classes that trickles down to the lowly toddler teachers. Decent with bonus lack of lunch packing. Log your lunch, y'all.

from princess to little camel: the update

2008-05-07T23:03:00.002-04:00

Time was, the black cat (like how I maintain my pets' internet anonymity?) was somewhat princess-like. Not in a good way. Back in the day when I lived with LB, "princess" was a derogatory term in our house.

Anyway. We trundled off to the vet this afternoon - crying all the way. Her, not me. She hates the car. The vet poked and prodded her for a good long while and examined the (2!) stool samples I'd helpfully brought in. And I stood there with my crying cat and waited. It turns out she was seriously dehydrated and has some intestinal parasite whose name I forget. He gave her some subcutaneous fluids* - which he described as making her "like a little camel" - two different kinds of medicine - liquid and pills - and told me to call on Friday to let them know how she is. Unless it gets worse. Which it seems to not be. She is on the couch with her brother, sitting in a sort of weird way, but she did just wash her face, which she hasn't done in days.

Cat drama ended. Well, except for the doses of medicine. She loves medicine! Woo.

Also, I seem to be back at the theater. Woo!

*N.B. I did not administer, nor did I see administered, said sub-q fluids. Nor do I know if "sub-q" is short for subcutaneous. However, this link looks very informative, so if you need "sub-q" fluids for your pet, I just might be your girl.

news from the RE plus lunch and numbers

2008-05-07T15:51:00.003-04:00

Ok, so the cat is really sick (the black one, which makes me want to cry) and I have to run her to the vet and Sophie to soccer in a minute, but I know y'all want to hear the news from the RE as much as you wanted to see my ass.

My prog numbers from last cycle came back really off - from 11.3 down to 1.something. This is so off that the RE wonders if there was some sort of lab error. Anyway, the thought, as you know, is that femara doesn't do shit to boost my prog. He's up for adding prometrium to the mix with the 2.5 mg of femara and calling it a day. And my ovaries are "quiet" and my uterine lining is nice and thin so off we go - wheeeeee! CD 4, y'all. It's CD 4.

Sperm update shortly - so far so good, as the kids say.

Lunch: yesterday there was not really any lunch, I scrounged from the dregs of the snack cabinet and ended up with cheese with the mold cut off and triscuits plus some almost ready for the compost melon. But today! Today was left over chicken (breast this time, but don't read anything into that) with psuedo-fancy sauce (mayo mixed with roast garlic) and asparagus with Bragg's and lime (no lemons in the house). That link's just for you, Clemency.

Count down: 14.

late lunch with bonus picture

2008-05-05T17:38:00.004-04:00

Last night's roast chicken (thigh, because I'm that kind of girl), cucumber pieces and "white catsup" as one of my kids calls ranch dressing. Ranch is a good dip for anything, I tell you.

Log your lunch, y'all. I have to somewhat frantically pull together mother's day gifts for 13.

Sixteen days of school left.

ETA - this is the kid who removed the bird from it's cage. I know you wanted to see him. And my butt. I know you wanted to see my butt.

rememberance

2008-05-04T18:48:00.002-04:00

May 4th, 1970.
Rocks are not the equal to guns.
Speaking out on injustice is right.
May we all strive more strongly toward peace.
All heads bow towards Ohio.

count down

2008-05-02T18:01:00.002-04:00

Let's count down to the end of school, shall we?
As of today we are at...... 3 weeks and 2 days. Or 17 days. 5 of those days will be spent trying to pull together Mother's Day gifts. Hahahahahahahahaha.

Lunch: leftover white beans and spinach over pasta (the highlight of this dish is the bacon), also leftover blanched asparagus dressed with - you guessed it - olive oil and Bragg's and leftover from snack cantaloupe. Really a far better lunch than yesterday in all ways.

how about another?

2008-05-01T22:10:00.003-04:00

Don't you want to hear from me fourty-eleven times today?

In my pre-bedtime blog cruising, I did I quick drive by of Dean's Live Journal, because I heart him on account of The Most Romantic Moment of My Life that took place in the falling snow under a small tree and a street light on Altamont st back during the freak spring storm of '93, when we were tiny children. Anyway, he hardly ever posts anymore of on old LJ, but I check every now and then. He links to this article, which warrents another glass of whiskey and a more thorough rereading by me (I was so excited I had to blog it before I gave it a real go). Equate gin and television and throw around terms like "cognitive surplus" and I am putty in your hands.

ETA: And shit like this? Yeah, boy. That's what I'm talking about.

And I'm willing to raise that to a general principle. It's better to do something than to do nothing. Even lolcats, even cute pictures of kittens made even cuter with the addition of cute captions, hold out an invitation to participation. When you see a lolcat, one of the things it says to the viewer is, "If you have some sans-serif fonts on your computer, you can play this game, too." And that's message--I can do that, too--is a big change.

And also this:

media is actually a triathlon, it 's three different events. People like to consume, but they also like to produce, and they like to share.

Because yes, yes we do. Lord. Just go read it already.

(Disclaimer - I love lolcats. I do)

and now....

2008-05-01T20:58:00.004-04:00

Oh, right. I'm trying to conceive, not just thinking about lunch/pants.

So the femara, it seemed so good. Three follicles! I am a good responder. But then it was on to Teh Blood Work to see if femara would fix my luteal phase defect, aka not enough prog. Woo! Blood work! I am a pro, y'all. I can pump my vein up so good, Amir, one of the lab techs (the hardcore one) doesn't even need to use a tourniquet. Hahh! I am a blood work winner. Or not.

Femara didn't do shit for my prog levels. There were many phone calls and messages passed between me and Martha, keeper of all knowledge, about when I'd go see my friend Amir, and what my prog levels meant in terms of seeing Amir again (my RE wants prog levels checked at 5, 7 and 9 dpo - he's thorough - and there's no co-pay to go to the lab and I'm a blood work star - see above - so I'll go get stuck as often as needed, although I don't always get to see Amir) and they all added up to one thing - femara does not equal increased progesterone for me. At least not at the level at which I took it this most recent time.

In one of the many messages my boss took down (Martha is her BFF now), the options were laid out for me - up the dose of femara or come in for a consult. Well, crap. I don't really like either of those options, so I made my own: Same dose of femara plus my old friend prometrium, which we know fixes my luteal phase defect. Good old Martha, she ran it by the RE and left me (yet another) message at school saying that would be fine and I should call for my early cycle wanding just as soon as I start bleeding (this is not an exact Martha quote) and that there would also be other "options" to be discussed at said wanding. Hmmmm..... looks like I get a bonus consult along with the wanding. Fab. That's only one co-pay to deal with. Plus going to the RE doesn't count in my book unless they stick something in me, so consults alone are lame-o.

So I am still hoping for an insem next cycle (i.e. in the next couple-few weeks). Word on the fertility street is that the IUI washing machine might be ready. But if that "might be" turns out to be "is" I might be running into Sperm Issues. See, I'm not getting the goods from a sperm bank, I'm getting them from The Donors You Can't Beat With A Stick. And most doctors are loathe to stick anything in a girl's hooha that hasn't been quarantined (ack! STDs! Age of Fear!) or didn't come from her state sanctioned partner (never mind that those state sanctioned partners can do things outside of those state sanctioned relationships that might put a body at risk). My bio-tranzed goods do not meet either of those requirements. So far, the RE seems willing (he seems to have little truck with bureaucracy), but we'll just have to wait and see, won't we? (Oh, stop worrying - my donor has no STD's.)

Anyway, onward and upward. Or something.

ps - Is it weird to link back to one's own blog? Discuss.

bad lunch/bad day

2008-05-01T17:53:00.002-04:00

Saved, however, by Coffeez with cho-girl this afternoon. Ok, not coffeez exactly, but gelato milkshakes with shots of espresso.

Anyway - lunch was supposed to be an old container of hummus (stolen from my roommate) and some spicy flatbread. But no, I opened the humus container and it was moldy. So I tossed it. And had leftover carrots and celery from snack and my assistant shared her soup with me.

I do love this lunch logging, though. Thanks, y'all. Don't forget to log your lunch.

see more crazy cat pics

wednesday lunch

2008-04-30T21:50:00.003-04:00

Last minute-thrown together this morning-almost dead lettuce salad with cucumbers (from home and snack leftovers) and a hard boiled egg dressed with olive oil, Bragg's and lemon juice. Plus cold coffee from the morning (I heart leftover coffee so much). And chaos. There was a good bit of chaos at lunch today. Perhaps tomorrow will be better. Log your lunch, my friends.

Big ttc post coming. I swear.

stolen meme and lunch, not pants

2008-04-29T19:55:00.004-04:00

Stolen, shamelessly, from Jude:

TECHNOLOGY
Q. What is your wallpaper on your computer?
the view from the front porch

Q. How many televisions you have in your house?
none

BIOLOGY
Q. Are you right-handed or left-handed?
right

Q. Have you ever had anything removed from your body?
Polly the Possible

Q. What is the last heavy item you lifted?
T's kid Frank

Q. Have you ever been knocked out?
no

BULLSHITOLOGY
Q. If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die?
no

Q. If you could change your name, what would you change it to?
it used to be Cynthia when I was a kid, but now I don't really care to change my name

Q. What color do you think looks best on you?
ummmm....... who knows?

Q. Have you ever swallowed a non-food item?
nope

DAREOLOGY
Q. Would you kiss a member of the same sex for $100?
wellllllll..... sure (heh)

Q. Would you allow one of your little fingers to be cut off for $200,000?
nope

Q. Would you never blog again for $50,000
maybe

Q. Would you pose naked in a magazine for $250,000?
sure, if anyone would pay

Q. Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000?
yep

Q. Would you, without fear of punishment, take a human life for $1,000,000?
no

DUMBOLOGY
Q: What is in your left pocket?
nothing - in the right there's keys

Q: Is Napoleon Dynamite actually a good movie?
never saw it

Q: Do you have hardwood or carpet in your house?
hardwood

Q: Do you sit or stand in the shower?
stand
well, unless I'm shaving my legs

Q: How many pairs of flip flops do you own?
2 - CVS specials

LASTOLOGY
Q: Last person who texted you?
text???? me???

Q: Last person who called you?
T

Q: Person you hugged?
Hanna

FAVORITOLOGY
Q: Number?
9

Q: Season?
summer

Q: Color?
orange. or pink

CURRENTOLOGY
Q: Missing someone?
yep

Q: Mood?
full

Q: Listening to?
birds outside

Q: Watching?
my typing

Q: Worrying about?
no much at the moment

Q: Wearing?
cords, ladybug shirt, sweater, stripey socks

RANDOMOLOGY
Q: First place you went this morning?
the front door to let the cats out

Q: What can you not wait to do?
get knocked up

Q: Do you smile often?
yes

Q: Are you a friendly person?
I hope so

And for lunch.......
Leftover psuedo-Indian from last night; basmati rice, lentils (pretend dahl), kale and cucumber raita.

It was a long day but I have convinced myself that I cannot go to bed until dark (I think I've got about 30 minutes). The licensing woman came to school today, to be sure we are doing all the million and one things the state thinks we should be doing to ensure the safety of the children in our care. We tend to do fine, but inspections are just not really fun. And then, as it is Tuesday, T and her fam came over and we went to the diner and now I am full of carbs. And ready for bed.

Continue with the lunch logging and meme yourself if you wish.

dangerous eating 2.0

2008-04-28T15:40:00.004-04:00

Today was a Dangerous Eater's day, as Vee might say. Lunch was a leftover liverwurst, watercress and mustard sandwich on an everything bagel. I helped LB move yesterday and she bought us all bagels for lunch and I couldn't finish mine, so it became today's lunch - microbes be damned. It was still pretty good.

But, totally lapping me in the Dangerous Eater's Club is my cat, who is currently eating a starling for a late lunch, crouched under all the wood stove paraphernalia I stacked up in a corner the other day. *sigh*

Log your lunch, y'all.

ETA - she ate the head off and then I couldn't take it anymore and dragged her away by the collar and put the now headless bird in two newspaper bags. Now I am waiting for the cat to clean up the floor.

ETA More - I think she ate the skull, because I can't find it. How does one eat a skull?

how to feel accomplished in 2 easy steps

2008-04-26T17:06:00.003-04:00

1. start a blog
2. list day's activities on said blog
bonus step 3. mirate one's list

woke up (always, always list this -always)
stumbled around
smelled and then cleaned up cat diarrhea from under the bathroom sink
washed hands
washed face
went to city market
bought food
paid back vendors who nicely didn't charge me full price last week when I ran out of cash (this niceness sort of negates my market bugeting technique which is to leave when I am out of money)
came home and started laundry, cleaned floors
hung laundry out, continued cleaning floors
went to parade!
came home, started more laundry, summer-ized wood stove area and ate lunch
hung out more laundry
brought in laundry, first old (dumped on couch) then new (left damp in basket on porch), because of rain
hung out old (damp) laundry, again.
napped
mowed half the lawn, brought in old laundry
swept clouds - yes, CLOUDS - of pollen off the porch and washed porch down with old mop water
watched the thunder storm

Now, here's how to feel unaccomplished in 1 easy step: go check out what this girl got done before 11 am.

lunch, lunch, lunch (pants)

2008-04-26T14:23:00.003-04:00

It was market day, so there were all sorts of good things for lunch: salad with asparagus (yay 1st asparagus!), boiled egg pieces, cucumbers (not exactly in season, but local greenhouse grown ((I know, I know, I think it's cheating, too, but I love cucumbers)) near my folk's house), and scallions from the goat cheese man, all dressed with olive oil and Bragg's and little lemon. And a beer. Hooray for Saturday!

Prior to lunch, I went to the parade. I *love* a parade! Now it is time for a nap.

Log your lunch, y'all.

Heheh. "Pants" is just for you, Mrs. B.

*

2008-04-25T07:46:00.002-04:00

Don't forget today is the National Day of Silence.

Peace to Larry King and all the rest.

thursday lunch, or are you sick of quiche yet?

2008-04-24T20:20:00.004-04:00

Quiche. Again. With lentil/mung bean sprouts dressed in Bragg's and lemon, because the ponzu is gone.
And yet, there is still more quiche. Spinach and leek and bacon cubes. Please come over and eat some.

all local all the time

2008-04-23T22:04:00.003-04:00

Check it out: locallectual
There's some local kids putting up a local goods website that is global. Well, at least aiming to be global. It's in the early phases and will get better and bigger the more folks use it, so go throw in your 2 cents about what's local in your locality.

And by the way, did you log your lunch?

a bird on the fridge door is worth 2 in the hand

2008-04-23T16:53:00.004-04:00

I was thinking about a snack and I went to the fridge to get out the goat cheese (goat cheese and dates - seems fancy, but it's not) and lo and behold there was a fake bird attached to the handle of the fridge door. A rather disheveled fake bird - one minus most of it's feathers, pale plastic underbelly exposed for all to see. WTF right?

Well, no. You see, yesterday was Tuesday - or as I have come to think of it - T-day, because it's the day that T comes over. Yesterday, she brought her husband, teen-age step-son and 4 year old, let's call him Frank. The orange haired teen-age step-son left shortly after they arrived, his gf beckoning from across town. Ah, youth...... Anyway we all went out to dinner and had the usual fight about who would pay the bill. And to settle the issue quickly, it was decided that I would give up my fight for the bill if I was allowed to buy some beer on the way home, which we would all sit around and drink (well, not Frank, but you know what I mean). So that's what we did.

But what the fuck does this have to do with the disheveled fake bird on the fridge, you ask? Patience, y'all, patience. Frank, the aforementioned 4 year old, busied himself doing little kid things while we sat round on the porch after dinner and at some point he asked me again, for the fifty-eleventh time, what was the deal with with the bird cage on the porch. For some time now, he's been trying to wrap his mind around the fake bird hanging upside down in the bird cage - he can't quite get if it's real or not, if it's alive or dead. The whole set up is a mystery to him. So last night, I took the bird out of the bird cage so he could get a good look at it. And after turning it over in his hands several times, he told me he was going to find a new spot for it. Inside. I didn't pay that much mind until this morning when I went to get the milk out of the fridge and in the semi-darkness of the kitchen noticed there was a fake bird hanging off the fridge door.

So now I want to go eat my fab dates and goat cheese treats, but I'll log my lunch first: left over fish burrito from last night's dinner plus left over strawberries from morning snack. Log your lunch, y'all.

psa

2008-04-22T17:37:00.003-04:00

Friday, April 25th is the National Day of Silence.

Now, I trust LesbianDad will do some amazing post on this (if she doesn't you can just go back through her archives and read pretty much anything), so I'll keep it short.

I'll make note of the day in my class. Treating everyone with kindness and compassion and respect is at the base of the whole Montessori philosophy and, even in my class of 2 year olds, we'll take a moment to be silent and then talk briefly about being kind to everyone, about listening and about just how important those 2 things are. My kids are two - I'm not going to ask them to be silent all day, nor am I interested in introducing them to some of the horrible things people can do to each other, and maybe creating silence in our classroom for a few moments will mean something only to me. But I cannot let the pain of other folks pass me by with out taking note: you gay kids who've suffered bullying and fights and even death, I see you. I see you.

What are you going to do?

Log Your Lunch for the win!

2008-04-22T16:33:00.004-04:00

Look at all those lunches! Woo! Lunch! And pants.

So today's lunch for me is the same as yesterday's. More quiche and salad-y shit with the addition of radishes. It was good and then I had some grapes and Smartfood for my naptime snack. See, the children nap and I eat as I clean my classroom.

In other news, I am back on The Coffeez. For realz this time. I had some yesterday afternoon - full caff - and had no trouble getting to sleep.

Don't forget to log your lunch!

teh round-up plus bonus new idea (!)

2008-04-21T21:37:00.004-04:00

Thanks for the sweet comments after my crap day last week, y'all. You're the best. For real.

Aren't you dying to know what I've been doing? On the edge of your collective seat? I'll give you a list o' the highlights, because who needs narrative form? Not this girl.

Thursday

pre-ovulation wanding showed good early response to the femara: cushy lining, 3 (!) follicles - 1 on the left (12.5mm), 2 on the right (15.5mm and 13.5mm)
dinner of potato chips, fancy cheese and bread + lambic beer with LB on the porch
nothing else of note

Friday

stupid work thing turns out to not be so stupid in the end and anyway it's over
2 pitchers of gimlets at IB's house! (Cut me some slack, it was a small pitcher.) Yay IB! Topics of discussion included, but were not limited to: When Bad Things Happen to Good Friends (extended mega-mix edition), Generous Parents (grateful edition), What's Going on With Our Friends (vol. 1,000,354).
what can top that?

Saturday

the market! Sightings of Elsie, plus various other folks. Lots of fab spring produce (yay real food!) and additional goods, e.g. lesbian bagels! Plus, a kid from my school was there and she had a flower with her that she'd brought, just in case she saw me. And her ever-kind mama told me she had a small box of very nice organic baby clothes that she'd love to give me, if that wouldn't be too hard for me to deal with/seem like bad luck and if it was, she'd hang onto them for a while longer and check in again. Wow - generous and understanding together are an unbeatable team. All good things happen at the market.
laundry! (I heart laundry)
yard work made easier and better by various neighbors (note to self, when getting plants from mom, only take as many as you can remember the names of).
lounging made easier by finished yardwork
coffee date that brought up some interesting ideas about doula shit

Sunday

Teh Coffeez with cho-girl!
Sunday comics!
stupid cold rain (blah)

Monday

bonus wanding! With New and Sure To Be Improving Med Student! Honest, I love when there are students, because I can ask even more questions and listen in on the medical banter. My RE asked the tiny med student all sorts of fertility related questions and I could answer every one. To the point the the RE told me to shut up, joking, but really I think he'd had enough out of me. So it seems I responded quite well to the femara in terms of ovulation, now we'll see what it can do for my luteal phase issues.
more stupid cold rain (blah again)

Good job getting this far! As a prize, I'll tell you my idea. See, I used to go on this sight called "Lunch Is Fun (TM)" all the time. All the fucking time. What's better than seeing what other people ate for lunch? Also, what's better than the word lunch? Maybe the word pants. Maybe. Anyway, as I was making tomorrow's lunch just a mere hour ago, I though, well, Starrhillgirl, you could just log your lunch on your very own blog and maybe that would make you post everyday. And maybe your internet people will want to log their lunches, too! In your comments! Because you love a good comment almost as much as a good lunch!

It's like a game! We'll even give it it's own cleverly named tag: Lunch. Woo and Hoo!

So today I had a piece of quiche and a little salad of watercress (yay the market!) and lentil/bean sprouts with ponzu, which is the dressing of the month here at Starrhill. What did you eat? Remember, a good lunch can salvage a crap day, so log your lunch, y'all.

and the horse you rode in on

2008-04-16T17:20:00.006-04:00

It's been a crap day. How about some pictures?

The highlight of the otherwise crap day was remembering that I drove the t-bird to work (thanks, Dad). This one's for J.

Here's the new dye job, compliments of cho-girl. You can see my funny ear in this picture.

I sure am glad y'all are around. Let's all have a better day tomorrow, shall we?

debt

2008-04-14T22:09:00.001-04:00

Oh, yes, my friends, I owe y'all a post. I do. There's no news, though.

I'm back at work after a week of vacation. It's fine. Work is fine.

Femara is also fine - no side effects and the pills are tiny and easy to swallow. There's one left. I bought yet another box of opks (at $20 a pop I should have bought stock in the company) because I'll need to go get wanded at the first sign of a surge. I fear the weekend will fuck me up here. But really, who the fuck cares because I'm not inseminating this cycle. Ok, I do care. As does my dear RE.

Old Clear Blue and I are on the outs. Again. It's me, not her. Well, I guess as in any relationship, it takes two. There's some debate about if monitors work when one is taking femara. So I am not to count on CB, which is no real hardship because I have such a long-standing, if non-monogamous, relationship with the opks. Plus, old Clear Blue did me wrong last month. Wrong. I never got a peak. Never. So I gave up. And here is where we get to my part in this downturn of our relationship - I did not ever hit the "M button" to reset everything for CD 1. Oops. So I did that this morning. Old Clear Blue says CD 6, but really, it's CD 8. Clearly we have some communications issues in our relationship. Maybe some couples therapy.... Or maybe I could just fucking get knocked up already and past the motherfucker on to my ex gf.

Non ttc news - CLAW was great, and I am late with my Under Teh Table post, but I'll get on it. My hair is dyed (and cut - whew!), but the tattoo has not materialized yet. This week, though.

things to do when you're not pg

2008-04-09T17:26:00.003-04:00

dye hair
get tattoo
attend CLAW
have drinks

Other ideas welcome.

So, yeah. No dice. I started bleeding on the train on the way home Monday (because disappointment is best with a chaser of inconvenience) and promptly had a scotch when I walked in the back door. On to femara.

But meanwhile, there's fabulous news over at Chicory's and on the other side of the world for Chips, nearby at Chronicles of Conception and also for my girl at Knuckle Down. Yay, y'all. Yay!

very hard meme sigh

2008-04-02T17:41:00.004-04:00

She spent a great deal of time that afternoon in the back room, bent over, transferring paper from its box into the recycling bin. There were handfuls of junk mail, crushed cereal boxes, torn up offers of money from various credit card companies, all destined for a new life as toilet paper or some other useful product. Then in went the newspapers, on top of the crumpled balls of tinfoil and empty can of tomatoes. The cat whining at the door skidded out at the same time she did, recycling bin pushing open the broken storm door. The sun outside was bright still and one of the neighbors was running a lawnmower. After dropping the bin by the street with a grunt, she turned to walk back up the driveway to get the trash. And noticed a condom, unfurled in all its faded glory, on the sidewalk.

If your life were to be novelized, starting last night, how would the opening paragraph(s) read? Brand Spanking New Meme. From Chicory, Queen of the New Jobness. I tag you, LB, and you, Chips and you, I.D.A. And that's all. Unless you want to write a novel in the comments, of course.

(As an aside, I am on more prometrium than I have ever been on in my life and, lord, my boobs. Whew. Note we are just ignoring this ttw.)

the good, the bad, and the not-so-ugly

2008-03-31T19:48:00.006-04:00

So there was the great post, all written in my head, about how today ran the gamut from bottom-of-the-barrel to woo-and-hoo! but I just finished figuring out how to post pictures over at wordpress for the CLAW blog and I am wore out, y'all. So, haha! I'll give you a list and you can sort things into the good, the bad, and the SOOOOO-not-ugly your own selves.

had very bad cold yesterday, as in very bad, causing me to miss brunch with some Crazytown extendo-family types and a memorial service that I really wanted to attend. Said very bad cold still present this am, but still I have to go to work because that is The Way It Is.
scramble to find tylenol at the only store open between my house and school, because that is the only pain killer I can take in the ttw, and a pain killer will keep me from killing the children at school, where I should not be because of above-mentioned very bad cold but too bad because that is The Way It Is.
cho-girl subs in my class and as a bonus to her greatness, brings me tylenol, because above-mentioned store only had the sinus kind or the allergy kind and those kinds will probably make my Baby the Possible have 3 heads and so I did not buy them, but drove to school near tears instead (crying in the privacy of one's truck - or one's dad's truck - is far different from crying in front of Teh Public, plus, I said "near tears" not "in tears" see? I was sick! Cut me some slack.).
half the staff of my school is out today - ok, not half, but 4 out of 14. No lie. But I get to teach with above-mentioned cho-girl, who is occasionally sympathetic but mostly just large and in charge of the children, which is just what the non-existent doctor ordered (things starting to look up here). Too much sympathy makes me woozy.
manage to not kill any children at school, nor do I give them my very bad cold, because they must all be immune at this point, having already given it to me. Thanks, children.
it rains. All day. We do not go outside, which means that I don't have to wake up my nappers. More sleep = yay.
Sandy, Sophie's mama, is on the radio when I get in the truck after school (this is where things really begin to look up) and to sweeten the deal, Sophie is not too surly! That's 3 days in a row! And is worth both of those exclamation points and this bonus one!
my roommate makes enchiladas for dinner. Enchiladas which will also be my lunch tomorrow. It is nice to be hungry again.
(the best for last) I got these in the mail today:

Thanks Mrs. B. Art saves lives, y'all.

grandma tuesday

2008-03-25T15:28:00.005-04:00

My love of stylish glasses must be genetic. If she were wearing a more revealing top, you'd see I also got my boobs from her. Thanks, Grandma.

There is also my other grandma, aka Banin, of whom I have no good pictures. Poo. She is equally great. And busty. Yes, I get it from all sides.

queer revolution, travel and other weekend goodies

2008-03-23T18:18:00.005-04:00

Let's get the business out of the way first - I think my insems were too early. Although I did have ovulation twinges this afternoon, so who the hell knows. Oh, well. While this was Teh Last of Teh Last, it was also the Throw Away Insem, the one that probably wouldn't work. But whatever, I'll take my prometrium like a good girl and we'll see what happens.

Last night, I went out. Woo! Out! The Athens Boys Choir and Katastrophe were playing a free (free!) show just down the road from me and as I love, love, love Katz, I was all over it. It seems they did a Trans 101 workshop (also free!) that afternoon. Yay. I missed it, but yay. Both these kids are cute as buttons and said all the right things and had a gaggle, yes, a gaggle, of little femme girls right up in front of the stage squealing over them (it was kind of like Elvis only these bois are cuter). By said all the right things, I mean that their songs and poems spoke true and clear and funny and sad and all the things you might feel in your life. Katz spoke briefly about the horrifying statistics on hate-crimes against queers in general and trans folks in particular and again, he said all the right things. That is, he didn't say much, he simply named some of the people, some of the kids, who've been killed recently and told us, instructed us, to remember them, to say their names. He had a poem about them, "Queer Revolution," a litany of sorts, with slides - pictures and names, lest we forget. There's not space enough for me to list all the names, nor, sadly, do I even know them all, but you can go her e to remember, to have names to speak so that we will not forget them. And then, on a lighter note, he finished up with my all time fave, "Tranny Got Pack." Well, maybe my fave is the Waffle House one..... sooooo hard to decide. (That's a music link, so watch your volume if you're at work or worried about loudness.)

So Katz was great and he's really what drew me to the show, but the bonus prize was Rocco (he introduced himself to me when I bought a CD from him - sqeee! (Lord.)). So um, yeah, I spent the whole show thinking how familiar he looked and how I knew the name Katastrophe from *somewhere*..... and then after I got home and read the liner notes with the CD (10 pages!) I remembered. Michelle Tea's partner. Yeah. I am behind the times. Anyway, he was great. So great that my friend D, who's a nice gayboy, said, as he climbed up next to me on one of the pillars for a better view, "oh my god! I have the hots for a tranny!" We speculated that he'd have to fight off the gaggle of femme girls to get to his new crush. In honor of the show, D wore his Lesbian Clothes - a tie and a zip-up hoodie. Adorable. He looked just like a lesbian. Good job, D.

Nothing like some hot trans men talking about social justice and peace and feminism to make you remember what it's all about. MySpace links here and here. And, yes, I have a little celebrity crush. *sigh* But honest, y'all, they're so good.

Also, I got a new, big girl couch this weekend, thanks to the KP. This meant, among other things, that my roommate and I had to quite literally break the frame of the futon I had been using as a couch so we could get it up stairs so she could use it as a bed. In retrospect, this is funny. Moving furniture sucks. But woo! Big girl couch!

In other news, I booked tickets to go to New York for a smidge during spring break. I was ambivalent about going - I want to see my friends up there really bad, but it's sort of expensive, I'm not sure how to deal with cat care now that one of the cats is deaf and another still has some - ah - bowel issues, and the usual - I kind of love to be at home more than anything. But then I was looking for some old emails I'd written about school and I came across one I'd sent to Z the Ex from back in 2004 when I must have been up there for some Montessori related thing and then I totally wanted to go.

Yesterday I saw a magician. I was on the train, going from Ian's back to
Williamsburg, and I was tired and feeling weird (what's new) and I'd finished
my book so there was nothing to do but sit there. As we were whizzing along under
the river, a magician came clanging in from the next car. He had a little
folding metal stand with big loud metal bells on it and a black case that he
pushed in front of him and a nice black top hat. He was mumbling loudly in
Spanish and so, in spite of my heritage, I understood nothing. He set up shop
right in the middle of the train, swinging the black case up onto the metal
stand and arranging all sorts of implements on it. He tried to get this one guy
to hold his magic wand for him, it was pink lucite, I think, but he refused.
Then all the other people he tried shook their heads, too. It was so sad. But
then this guy sitting across from me agreed to hold the magic wand and tap on
the special magic box and so the show could begin. I got to open the magic drawer
in the special magic box and a small furry animal popped out and I jumped. Then
he did all sorts of other tricks, like making soap bubbles turn into giant
marbles and then popping the marbles or making a girl's purple lacy panties drop
to the floor and then trying to give them to the guy across from me. In
addition to finding the small furry animal (maybe it was a mink?), I got to
hold the magic wand and tap on a small metal dish that was upside-down and then a
dove flew out from under it. Amazing. And then he was done. He collected
some money and packed up his case and rattled on to the next car, all in the space
of 2 stops, before we got to Graham Ave.
I walked home and stopped by the liquor store, feeling much better.

You know you wanted to relive that 10 minutes on the L train with me. So I'll be in New York for a smidge in April. Who's around?

meme-tastic

2008-03-23T13:58:00.006-04:00

From the Crazytown kids. The KP called for answers in the comments, but I'll run with it and make a meme anytime I can.

What's On Your Nightstand?

Rules, rules, rules: post what you've got on the table (chair, nightstand, whatever) beside your bed. Leave nothing out. Nothing. Heh. Link back to the kind person who tagged you and then tag 3 other folks. Really tag them - none of this "whoever hasn't done this meme yet" tagging.

*clock radio from Roses
*thermometer (*sigh*)
*Burt's Bees foot creme sample tube
*Badger Sleep Balm, aka The Sleepy Beave (don't ask)
*small lamp from the SPCA rummage sale circa 1995 with pink shade from Roses
*Burt's Bees Milk and Honey sample bottle
*tiny pink claw clip that some kid put on my shirt at school
*orange sticker from Toys in Babeland, not yet stuck anywhere
*tie-tie, black (for my *hair* y'all, my hair)
*star charm from a necklace that was a gift for my 30th birthday
*votive candle, Newberry Holly scented, as yet unburned, but very dusty
*capped plastic test tube, empty (I already tossed the syringes and the catheter)
*handful of earrings I had to take out for surgery and have yet to put back in
*rubberband
*small Buddha statue, the Chinese style - tall and skinny with flowing robes - from my mama
*fancy paper clip with 90º corners instead of round bend-y ends
*dust and cat fur

What? No books? Nope, I keep the books in bed with me.

I tag..... ummmm...

The Injector who is tagged first to ensure that she'll play along
Cali, of course - tagged with love
Mrs. B in hopes that she'll send me some tiny art in the mail as a thank you for tagging her (subtle, no?)
J, who will forgive me for praying that she'll say there are car racing magazines on her nightstand.

Oops. That's 4. Oh, well.

ETA - comment away if you don't *ahem* have a blog (*cough* Hard Girl*cough*)

clap your hands

2008-03-21T22:31:00.003-04:00

CD 13. High says old Clear Blue. 17.5 mm follicle on the right. Good looking CM. Ovulation Chinese herbs and robitussin taken. Sperm in the air, on it's way to Richmond from the West and then to Starr Hill, arriving tomorrow. Plus Fertility Hennaz™, of course.

Last chance DIY insem, here I come.

some clarifications

2008-03-18T21:41:00.003-04:00

I fear I have mislead you. I am not myself an Arm Wrestler. I am a Rule Keeper. That is, I watch to be sure no rules are broken under the table. My post is up now, over here, after some technical difficulties.

Also, I am not quite so nice as y'all think - my neighbor's Condition means many things to me - both positive and negative. We're tight, so it is generally positive, especially because they will at some point need infant-style childcare. Which, providing I knock myself up sooner rather than later, fits well into my financial plan, because I'd be the infant-style childcare. So the almost happy is actually pretty self-serving.

And, since I know you've missed hearing about my ovaries: I went to the RE's today. It's CD 10 and I've got one 10-11 mm follicle on the right and a nice 5 mm lining. "Good," according to my RE, who it turns out, developed a way to check estrogen levels in blood back in the 70's. Prior to this? Yes, my IVP friends, doctors did just what we've all done at home - looked obsessively at CM. Serious.

more fun than a barrel of vipers

2008-03-16T12:21:00.004-04:00

On a more cheerful note - I'm occasioanlly blogging over here with the other Arm Wrestling kids. Remember arm wrestling? I'm The Empire over there, so we'll just keep Starrhillgirl under our hats, shall we?
CLAW is a blast, y'all. Come on down.

le sigh

2008-03-15T21:47:00.002-04:00

My neighbor is knocked up. By accident. I am mostly happy for her.

(This is not yet news for public consumption, oh, ye local kids who know who I am talking about. She's only 8 weeks.)

just another morning in spring

2008-03-14T09:35:00.005-04:00

So it's been weeks since I worked a full 5 days in a row. Weeks, I tell you. There's no school today and it smelled like spring when I opened the front door to let the cats in. I've given up on cutting out coffee and so I am here in the sun with a totally indulgent cup of 2/3 coffee, 1/3 heavy cream. And did I mention the sun? And the lack of school today?

I woke up and walked down here to pick up my milk first thing, because I have been slack this week and didn't pick up on Wednesday, which is my usual pick up day. The whole milk deal is a little shady, which I kind of love. You cannot buy or sell unpasteurized milk in Virginia, so people get around it by purchasing a share in a cow, so the milk is technically theirs and they consume it at their own risk. I do sometimes wonder what part of my cow I own - the tail? The cute nose? Anyway, I'm not one of those Raw Milk Will Save the World people, but I'm pretty happy to have local milk and I'm always after food that's had less shit done to it. And it is good - the real test for what to buy and eat in my mind. Local and organic and unprocessed are fab and all, but really, I'm into food that tastes good. Which this milk does. The poorly lit warehouse and the old soda refrigerators and the sneaky hidden key are all pure entertainment for me - the real deal is that I like this milk better. Now if only I could ride my bike down to the IX to get it....

Yes, it's true. I do not know how to ride a bike. I thought this wasn't news here on teh internets, but the injector has only recently discovered my lack of biking prowess and is threatening to come come south and remedy the problem. Others have tried - valiantly - before, but with no luck. (somewhat embarassing pics here)I'm not so good at the whole practicing thing, you see, and I think that's probably key. Anyway - I do want to know how. It fits in well with everything else about my "Lifestyle." But falling is so scary!

Moving on to other things I cannot do yet - let's talk about ttc, shall we? (That' trying to conceive for those of you just joining us here in Starr Hill.) Here's the lowdown from the RE's visit this week: I will be doing an unmedicated, monitored, home insemed cycle this month. Woo and hoo for the home insems! Go DIY AI go! There's several things going on here so I'll try to be all linear and shit so you can get the full picture and the you can weigh in as you see fit.

From the information gathered during my monitored cycle in January, the RE thinks that I had 2 problems: old Polly and low progesterone. Now we'll all bow our heads a minute to Polly and then move on because that particular problem is gone. Woo! So then the issue becomes the prog. Now, I knew from blood-work with my nurse practitioner that my progesterone was low back last summer and she put me on prometrium (by mouth - whew) for it, but her protocol for the dosage was very different from my RE's protocol and I don't wonder (or rather I do wonder) if hers was not so hot. See, the half-life of prometrium is 12 hours and my NP only had me take it once a day, so I'd imagine the level could float around more than would be ideal. The RE has folks take it 3 times a day, which know knowing the half-life of it (thank you Obsessors) makes far more sense.

Anyway. My RE deals with low prog in one of 2 ways: dose with prometrium or take...... clomid. His thought process is this: The corpus luteum is what produces progesterone after ovulation, so if there is a problem with progesterone, perhaps tweaking the follicle that will become the corpus luteum will make for better progesterone production. Plus the "bonus" of more follicles - i.e. more "targets" for the sperm to hit. He very, very slowly and seriously did the math for me on how the chance of multiples goes up in this scenario and listened patiently when I said in no uncertain terms that I was scared shitless of the mood swings I hear can come with clomid and said femara was a fine choice when I asked about using that instead. The man's a dream. And he delicately pointed out that, in his view, time is not an issue. I'm young and healthy, as they kept telling me before my surgery. All that said, I am going with no meds for this cycle other than a prometrium supplement. Because I like to ramp it up slowly.

As for the home insem part - well, there's some bureaucracy involved here. In the past, sperm that needs washing for an IUI would get sent to Richmond, washed and sent back. But my sperm don't roll like that because they've been Bio-Tranzed. The shipping method my donors (Remember them? You can't beat them with a stick.) and I are using, bio-tranz, only keeps those kids alive for 24 hours. Not enough time to get from the West Coast to Richmond and then here. They'd be dead. Now, the University has been promising my RE a machine for washing sperm here for sometime now. They said October 2007 at the latest, he told me. Then we both looked at the calendar and sighed. Any day now, they keep telling him. He sighed again. So if there's a machine here, I'll wash those prostaglandins right out of my sperm and do an IUI. But I'm not going to count on that, so we'll just all plan on one very last home insem. What do you say?

There's a mess of us cycling together this time, which has to be worth something. There's me, the injector's best girl KK, Mrs. B, Chips, Tiff, Katie who has no blog (ahem) from FF.... damn. I though there were more of us. Anybody else? Anybody?

hand-holder the bestest

2008-03-13T21:08:00.007-04:00

And now I must sing The Song of Praises to cho-girl.

Kind beyond measure and able to read my mind in a single bound.
Possessed of calm in the face of my own misery and like to a beacon of light in the dark.
Speaker of several of the best languages and bellwether of Teh Internets.
Mama to my tiny BF and his brilliant brother, co-parenting with her Smoking One to near-perfection.
Cynical at all the right times, making perfect light of overly weighty situations.
Adept at toddler wrangling and crafting - all in the same moment.
Deliverer of the perfectly timed "ha-ha!" or "woo!"
Keeper of my humility, and often sanity.
If you don't already have her, you know you want her.

surgery post - finally

2008-03-12T22:30:00.001-04:00

What? Y'all haven't been on the edge of your collective seats - eagerly awaiting the story of my surgery? Well, what have you been doing then?

Before you get all excited, let's keep in mind that this really all turned out to be no big deal. I was far more apprehensive about the HSG, which, you'll remember, all turned out fine. I was sort of generally apprehensive about general anthesisia, which was a whole new ball o' wax for me (Let's revisit here that the most invasive medical procedure I've ever had, prior to ttc, was getting a tooth filled without anethesisa. By my uncle who told bad jokes and played Aretha Franklin the whole time.) but I was pretty chill about the whole thing and, frankly, looking forward to a day off work. So all that is to say, don't be mad if this story lacks some particular something.... like a plot.

Anyway. Cho-girl and I arrived bright and early and I filled out a mess of paper work (all of which I had already filled out at the pre-op the week before) while she reviewed her firm instructions to call 1. my mother 2. work 3. the other building of work to tell them how it all went down. (N.B. - these instructions were not from me.) I ended up sitting on the floor, because some folks took my seat while I was up passing back my ever-tedious paperwork. But that's ok - I like the floor. So we hung out, talking about nothing and then an unseen some one called my name. It was not god (there's not near death experiences in this story, so if you're looking for that you'd better quit right now). It was a nurse, calling from a *whole other waiting room*! Crazy. There was a section with more chairs - enough for me! - and the receptionist had been to busy with the aforementioned ever-tedious paperwork to tell us. Or she was too moody.

So the nice nurse took me back and cho-girl moved into the other, new waiting room, because it had magazines (although I had stocked her with books, don't you worry). The nice nurse (let's take moment here to recognize that I should have done something to make me remember everyone's names - they were all so great and I cannot even give them proper credit here) put in an IV (new experience # 33 million) and gave me a very nice green cap and asked me what drugs I am allergic to. Then she left me alone to change into my nice gown and little brown socks (new experience # 34 million). About 50-thousand other people came back to ask me what drugs I am allergic to after my original nice nurse. This seems to be the ambulatory surgery version of asking what my birthday is, which is the pick-up line at the RE's office. In the midst of these 56-thousand people was the anesthesiologist resident, who looked 12. I swear. 12. So she did her little anesthesia pep-talk and then more people asked me what I was allergic to and my doctor came back and was peppy, too, and we were all filled with pep, except I was also really hungry and pretty thirsty, so I think the 58-million folks were slightly peppier than me, because they had eaten nice breakfasts and probably had Teh Coffeez.

Then they brought cho-girl back and we sat there for a smidge and then they had me walk to the OR. Because I am "young and healthy," as they kept telling me. I asked if I'd get a ride if I were old and infirm. They said no. It was called ambulatory surgery for a reason. They were funny. And by they, I mean all the 63-million folks who came in and did shit to me. And by funny, I mean so nice. Really, if I could remember their names, I would make a whole post for them: a list of their names with the title "So Nice" so that when they google themselves they would get to see it and feel good. Oh, right, but where was I? Oh, yes, being young and healthy and perambulating back to the OR. Which was freezing. Which I commented on and so they gave me not just one but two warm blankets. I tell you, I could get used to this warm blanket thing. It was very, very white, in addition to very cold, and the people buzzed around sort of quietly doing their thing and the 12 year-old anesthesiologist talked to me very, very quietly as she hooked me up to all the monitors, explaining what each sensor did. I *love* that shit. And then I looked at the clock across the room and up at the lights while she told me to think of some "nice dreams" to have and then I woke up in another room.

Ok, so here's the one sort of bad part. I felt like crap right when I woke up. Really crap. Confused and then nauseous and crampy. And I kind of wanted to cry, which, you'll remember is not something I'm a big fan of. All alone, my tiny self in a hospital gown..... Crying yet? Well, quit, because yet another very nice nurse put her hand on my arm and asked how I was and shot me up with pain meds and anti-nausea meds and after another minute or two of misery, I was ok. Ok enough to be excited that they were going to wheel me into the other recovery room; apparently post surgery, I am no longer "young and healthy" enough to walk. Heh. So the nice nurse number two wheeled me to a curtained off lazy-boy recliner (hospital style, you know) and went to fetch cho-girl. And I was fine. The nice nurse (#2) gave me some ginger ale and animal cookies and let me manipulate her into taking me out to the car in a wheel chair (new experience #39 million!) and cho-girl took me home.

To the couch, where I lay in repose for the rest of the day. Ahhhhh.... it was like a sick day only I felt fine. We had coffee and expensive sandwiches and my mama came over and then I napped off and on. An old friend came by mid-afternoon to bring me some arnica and fancy ginger beer and the the ever-vigilant LB came by in the evening after work, so I was well tended. And so fine. I mean, really - I was tired after about 6 o'clock, but really I felt so ok.

So, to summarize: nice folks, no more Polly (R.I.P.), day off of work. Western Medicine - 1, me - 1. We're all winners here in Starr Hill.

There are no pictures up yet, because I am not the proud owner of a scanner. But when they are ready, oh internets, you'll be the first to know. I swear.

mea culpa

2008-03-09T21:48:00.003-04:00

Forgive me. It has been a million years since my last blog post.

But I have excuses! I had surgery! (I tried to use this excuse at work to get out of a parent meeting last week. No dice.) Yes, the sugery is over and done and old Polly is gone - peace, Polly. And really? No big deal. So not an excuse for not blogging.

The real excuse for not blogging is that I have been at a weekend long Labor Assistant Training. It was great, but I had no time to blog. I haven't even read blogs or visited the IVP since Friday. Ack! But have I mentioned it was great? It was. Great for its own sake (very informative, not overly touchy-feely - which I feared, well run, inspiring) and also great because it reminded me that all this fertility shit isn't just about getting pregnant, it's also about giving birth and having that experience is part of why I am going on with all this crap. Anyway, this training is very, very good and if you get a chance to take it you should jump on it.

I promise a surgery post shortly. Promise.

Also? CD 1, y'all. I've got a meeting with the RE Tuesday. Let's get this party started.

woe.

2008-03-03T20:41:00.002-05:00

My hard drive crashed on Saturday night, at the tail end of a lovely chicken dinner with a friend from here and the lovely lesbians from DC, R and J, with whom I went to Boston for T-day (remember?).

I have been without Teh Internets for days. Days, I tell you. And I missed y'all. Lord. All you IVP kids - I was lost without you. No machine equals no contact, except maybe by the pony express to the couple few of you to whom I sent xmas cards. Woe, as the title implies. But here I am now, by the grace of god - I mean, the grace of cho-girl. And I'll get a loaner machine tomorrow, because I am among the luckiest of the lucky.

Wednesday is the Last Of Days for old Polly Teh Polyp. The surgery is scheduled for 9 am and I expect that I'll be home and on the couch sometime before noon. My mama says she'll stop by with enchiladas, so come by if you want some. You'll have to wait on yourself, though - I plan to milk this general-anesthesia hang over for as long as possible.

Jude, I fear I won't be able to send Polly up your way, as the nice resident told me I couldn't have her. She did promise pictures, though. Who wants to see pictures of my girl-parts?!

almost, as the kids say

2008-02-29T15:24:00.003-05:00

Today is a day for remembering, for thinking about loss, for holding hands and sitting with grief. A day for a nod and a bit of a smile to the babies we don't have. Now, as usual, I'm a smidge late, and I can't claim to have suffered from much loss - I've got no dead babies hovering around me, flickering with Might Have Beens. I have only some mourning for the tries that came to nothing, that neither divided nor implanted nor came forth in anyway. But I bow with all compassion to those of you who know more loss than me. I hold your hands and your hearts in mine and I'll sit with you, as I know you'd sit with me.

Cali put out the call and the chorus of the IVP answered with the resounding sound of - well, of hope, if you get right down to it. Here we all are in this ugly fucking boat that's trimmed with Almost and Loss and Might Have Been. But this boat floats on hope and, god damn, the company is good.

It's hard for me to write too much about loss today. Things started out well with coffee being delivered to school and then Sophie and a friend went skateboarding this afternoon, and I heard them through the open front door, laughing that way young girls do. It's warm enough I let my kids at school go outside with their jackets undone. I saw the mountains from the playground. The crocus are up in my neighbor's yard, the all-important sun is out and we are turning the corner to Spring. I feel it.

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I ’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

From my girl Emily, of course.

i went to the fertility clinic and all i got were these tattoos

2008-02-25T18:34:00.005-05:00

If I can't get pregnant this month, I may as well get more tattoos. I heart my tattoo guy.
(Picture credit to cho-girl, of course - you think I let just anybody see me this close to undressed?)

more stars
Originally uploaded by corey jo

no show snow day

2008-02-22T10:50:00.004-05:00

I am not at work. There are a whole host of children being denied educational opportunities today on account of Teh Weather. Which is cloudy and cold, but not much else. Ahem. Anyway.

So here at the coffee shop, things are fab. The internets were down at home so I took full advantage of my "snow" day and went out for coffee. Mmmmm..... coffee.....

Everyone in the IVP seems to be fucking sick to death of February, myself included, and so here are some plum blossoms to remind us that Spring Is Coming. Soon.

many are the motherfucking obstacles in my path

2008-02-20T19:20:00.003-05:00

No ttc this cycle (CD 11 today), nor likely any next cycle (CD 0 today). Bummer.

After last week's fab HSG, I put in a call to my RE and had the usual lovely chat with Martha, the keeper of all knowledge. Her offical title is something like receptionist or appointment maker, or something. But this woman holds me, and I'd bet many others, in the palm of her sweet, southern-accented hand. She is the gate keeper to the kingdom of fertility. Which is to say, she sets up your shit with the RE. Which is to say she has your charts at her fingertips and she'll whip them out, saying all the while, "now, just hang on...." She's sweet and knows my name and we will never see each other. She is in a totally different building than the RE and to me she is now and always will be a voice on the phone.

Anyway, I called Martha The Gate Keeper Friday and she said to call back Monday once the results from the dye-job had been sent over and so I called Monday and for some reason I cannot remember nothing happened and so she called me back Tuesday and we tried to figure if my next appointment with the RE was "time sensitive." To me it is, of course, but not really to my RE. He's big into not hurrying, gathering as much data as possible and then, finally, moving forward. So anyway, the upshot of it all is that he thinks I should go ahead and have old Polly the Polyp taken out and one of the nice, nice, nice doctors from Friday's HSG party is his friend and has been given the heads up about me and my fabulousness and so he is all set to go after old Polly with whatever one uses to remove such things. So after a trip through the university hospital's phone system - a trip riddled with blind allies and dead ends - I got a phone a call back from Dr. S's receptionist/gate keeper and she set me up an appointment for next Thursday. Woo! Right? Sort of. Thursday's appointment is for a pre-op meeting. Mostly paper signing, according to the receptionist/gate keeper. From there we'll set up the real-deal get that fucker out of there appointment. Lord. Which will be well into the next cycle, so no insems.

I'm struggling to keep up with all the good-for-me ttc shit - the temping and the pre-natals and the positive attitude. This feels like a break, damn it, but I had not planned on a break now. I had not planned on any more breaks at all in fact. This was the hell-bent-for-leather, throw-caution-to-the-wind phase of ttc that was going to end with a baby. But now I seem to be on a break. Back to the tattoo parlor and liquor cabinet with me.

lord.

2008-02-18T18:47:00.001-05:00

Sophie, my pretend child, has gotten a cell phone. It's "sooo cool!" Heaven help us.

friday for the win!

2008-02-15T18:47:00.005-05:00

From the beginning, because you know I love a list:

* all clear HSG. Spill on both sides, warmed gown from the nicest nurse in the world, totally cheerful and nice and again with the nice folks in Radiology, comforting but totally unnecessary hand holding from cho-girl, pretty pictures of my insides, polyp confirmation (whew - known is better than unknown, yes?) and also did I mention how nice? Those folks in Radiology - Teh Best. There were a million of them and they all introduced themselves ("Hi, I'm Dr. So-and-so, you can call me Stphanie" - love her.) and shook hands and explained exactly what they were going to be doing and laughed my my jokes and they didn't hurt me. Not a bit. The most amusing part was that Stephanie, my newest BFF, thought cho-girl was a Radiology tech, because she had on a lovely lead gown. And really, it was a lovely gown - flowered and with a nice embroidered "L" for lovely.

*breakfast at the diner after aforementioned hurt-free and all clear HSG. Out and about 10 am! Woo and Hoo! With bacon! And with a vastly entertaining Other Patron at the table next to us who drove up in his big maroon Cadi, walked in, ordered a whiskey on the rocks, chatted us up, realized he didn't have his wallet, left his drink and drove off to get his wallet and came back only to be joined by his wife. He was charming except he said I talk like a yankee.

*love from the internets.

*tidying to prepare for the arrival by train of Hard Girl and company. Yay! It's illness that brings them, but I'll take it.

*warm and amazing sun and did I mention warm? Warm enough to have the front door open - it's been since October since I've done that.

*walking downtown to the post office (I heart the USPS) with the Hard Girl Fam. So warm and lovely. Plus we got to hang with the post office guy because I was foolish enough to think that sending a package to Ireland would be a simple matter of a stamp. No, no - there's customs, you see. Heh. I was sending off my full pack of Instead Cups to another IVP kid, but the post office guy seemed pretty nonplussed when he asked me what was in the box and I said "feminine supplies." Perhaps he was too taken with Tiny Fruit Baby to be worried about what sort of things the IVP likes to put in it's respective hoohas. Anyway, I think my home insem days are done, and so I gleefully send off my Insteads and welcome the world of western meds with open arms.

*bacon from the neighbors. Yes, that's bacon from the neighbors. Pork belly from Polyface, some magic salt/brown sugar/spice thing plus curing in their shed equals bacon. From the neighbors. Damn. I've got a good half pound of it in the kitchen right now, waiting to be breakfast for the guests.

*errand running in the car. Not normally something I do, but there was the need for cat food, else I'd loose a limb. Plus, as the whole Hard Girl Extendo Fam is here, there is a grandma who needs a nightgown. So I went for cat food and debated Rose's vs. Kmart for the nightgown for about 1 minute before picking Rose's, which took me over the (small) mountain to the east of town, giving me the view to end all views - looking west to the other (larger) mountains as the sun set behind them. Holy fucking shit, y'all.

* CD release party not too far from home tonight. Out of the house is sometimes good for me

.

There were daffodils just blooming outside the hospital this morning and crocus by Main street. Two more weeks of February, kids. I think we'll make it.

2008-02-15T10:19:00.001-05:00

moar humorous pics

mostly ttc shit

2008-02-14T20:47:00.004-05:00

So I go tomorrow for the long awaited HSG, aka dye job, to illuminate my insides and confirm or deny Polyp the Possible. My transport and hand-holding will be courtesy of cho-girl, who will be treated to coffee after. I'm getting sort of psyched about seeing what my insides look like - the u/s doesn't really cut it for me. How do they read that shit? It looks like a bunch of gray dots to me; the only thing I saw that looked like anything at my last u/s was my fab 17 mm follicle. Everything else the RE pointed out I was all, "uh huh, uh huh, how about that? Huh. Sure. Looks good to me." So seeing my tubes and such will be fun. I'm less apprehensive than I was a few days ago (thanks for the comments, y'all - really, they were very reassuring and I've got my 800 mg of ibuprofen and my whiskey at the ready), and it will be nice to be doing *something*. As Jen pointed out, it sucks to be a regular at the RE's and not actively trying to make a baby. So doing something more than getting a cheap lube saturated wang cam scan and sending vats of my blood to the lab sounds good to me. Even if it does, you know, involve dye up my hooha.

In other news, the first ever CLAW bout was on Tuesday and was great. You know you're sorry you missed it. For your amusement, look here and here and here. And then come on down next month.

So me and cho-girl and Polyp the Possible will be down at the hospital tomorrow am, if you want to wave in our general direction. CD 6. Let's get this party started.

With all due respect, photo courtesy of Billy Hunt.

F your I

2008-02-14T20:34:00.003-05:00

It is not cool - read very, very impolite - to ask certain questions, no matter how well intentioned. Among them: When will you get married? Are you dating anyone? Are you planning on having a baby? How was your colonoscopy? Guess which one I've been asked twice in less than a week? Once on the playground at school, with parrot-like 3 and 4 year olds around, not to mention highly attentive 5 year olds. *sigh*

(Which doesn't even begin to address the whole issue of professionalism - would you ask your doctor/lawyer/accountant a personal question while said professional was at his or her place of employ practicing his or her profession?)

does 2 in 1 night make up for it?

2008-02-09T21:54:00.000-05:00

Remember when I hit you up for pictures of your kids? Yes, you do. Well, here's the result. If you want to know how the lobbying went down, Chicory has her usual dead-on take up for your perusal. There's some folks over in Utah who are busting their collective asses to make things right for their kids. For all of our kids. See, even in February, you can hang onto some hope.

(Click the picture in Keri's blog to enlarge and see if you can find kids you know. Sophie's in there, sticking her tongue out, right under the W.)

so much for that 3 posts a week bullshit

2008-02-09T20:13:00.000-05:00

Have you missed me? Oh, poor us! It's been so long. And there's nothing to tell. No thing. Honest.

It's February. *sigh* There's been work and some blood draws (I have the dubious distinction of having gone to the RE's enough now that the lab techs recognize me) and more work and sitting around wishing the house was cleaner and cursing the cat-diarrhea and sleeping. Boring. I know. I'm living it. There's no sun (well, not enough for me) and the weather has had moments of decency, but no snow. I call for a blizzard or for May. Enough of this winter shit. As SJ said, "Go Team February! Mascot: apathy."

Tonight for dinner I raided the freezer for the last of one bag of last summer's broccoli. And had it with tiny elbow macaroni and sausage from Babes in the Wood. It was like locavore hamburger helper. I kept expecting the little hand guy from the commercials to pop out, only he'd have an ironic baseball cap on and carry a banjo and he'd want to have a serious conversation about how his time as a WWOOFer had helped him reconnect with The Land.

There's some radioactive dye in my uterus's future. Woo. And now for the audience participation section of this blog: How much and what sort of pain meds did you take for your HSG? When did you take them? I'm not so much for the invasive medical procedures, for all my love of the needles at the RE's lab.

random friday randomness

2008-02-01T18:12:00.000-05:00

In list form! For you! (Ok, really for me, the lover of lists)

*Cappy-icy-pseudo-snow-day. There was ice, sort of, and so school opened late, which was great, but the weather was crap. We are Richmond again. *sigh* If it will not really snow, it should be May already. Because the weather should bend to my whim.

* 5 dpo blood work. Scheduled early in the am so as not to require a sub at school (and the roads were so fine - see above). Charming woman and her 2 children also in for early am blood work present and accounted for. Waiting rooms are like heaven to me. Really. Also nice lab tech. Also, I kind of like having blood drawn. Honest. Plus! Bonus! No co-pay! Woo and hoo!

*Aye. The moodiness on the way home from above blood work. Aye. Related to: recently discovered differences in so called "core values" with some folks. Crap. Not that mine are better, but really, I can't roll with Teh Discrimination based on anything. Just can't. Plus, being taken to task about a whole other set of gender issues. Aye. Can't we all just get along and not exclude folks? Moodiness also related to general ttc angst. I'd like my baby now, please.

*Driving home of the friend of Sophie. Usually this friend walks, but it was nasty (see above) and this semester in gym is All Swimming All the Time (or at every other day), so both girls had wet hair and so I gave her a ride. Much to Sophie's delight. There has been Teh Drama Among Tweener Friends of late and it is Teh Hard. Poor Soph.

*Popcorms.

*Random unexpected visit from old friend A who is back in the country (and has a nice new car!). We had Jack Daniels and a fire and visited and visited. So good. So, so good.

*Feeling Badness over bailing on a commitment. One of the things I hate most. But it had to be done. Aye. Upsetting people is Teh Hard.

*Mail! Brought in by old friend A (see above) and containing a nice, nice letter from my insurance company, expressing their desire to pay for my upcoming HSG! Anthem - my new BFF. Thank you, oh thank you, great-but-under-paid teaching job that keeps me fully insured.

also...

2008-01-30T19:26:00.001-05:00

In the same Not Me - You! vein as the last post, go check out Lesbian Dad's series of the week about Being a Baba And How She Got There. Excellent as usual.

Do yourself a favor and start with Monday's, then move on to Tuesday's, then do today's and go back for more for the whole rest of the week. You won't be sorry.

do unto others

2008-01-30T17:08:00.000-05:00

For Cali:

moar funny pictures

And for Chicory:

Check out this and this and then send in your cutest pictures of your kids. What's not to love about this deal? Show off your kid anonymously, help change stupid, stupid laws. Ideal.
(You can send pics to me - starrhillgirl@gmail.com - if you'd rather.)

the long goodbye

2008-01-28T17:59:00.000-05:00

It was goodbye to the Saab today, my dearly beloved car. You'll remember my love/hate relationship with cars - hate car culture, love my car, love going for a drive - or maybe you won't. Either way, today was the end; today I sent my car away.

Some time ago, back when I was even smaller than I am now, we lived with some friends for a month or so while our house was being finished (actually, while we waited and waited for there to be a working well, but that's another story). These friends had a Saab each and I loved them (the friends and the Saabs). My 11th birthday, they gave me a model Saab, which I loved and wrote an ode to in my English class. It went something like this:

You are red and you are black
With a gold interior
**blah, blah, can't remember the middle part**
**blah, some other stuff I can't remember**
My Saab 900 Turbo.

Literary gold, y'all - at age 11! Anyway, Saabs - I've loved them since childhood. I learned to drive on a Saab, and have had no other car to my name since. And this last one, it's been Teh Best. 16 valve, so I can really kick some Other Car Ass; smooth, cool "rose quartz" paint job; rear hatch that, when the back seat was down made it almost like a truck; sunroof for extra breezes; the mileage could make a hybrid stand up and take notice. It made it through me helping a couple people into the wide and wonderful world of standard transmissions and never needed a clutch job. There were more Sunday afternoon drives through rural Virginia with LB and mixed tapes (mixed tapes?!) than there are stars in the sky and still there were less than 200k miles on it.

And it was mine, in that way things are when you really, really love them. I'd been driving it for so long, it felt like an extension of my being. I knew the sweet spot on the clutch like I know my name. The steering wheel must have had imprints from my hands on it. I could pop-start the motherfucker on a flat stretch of gravel with my foot out the door.

Good old car. It was 21 this year. I patted it fondly as I took all my shit out of the trunk.

But today was the end. I posted it for parts on Craigslist (I thought about posting last week's unused sperm there, too - or maybe on Freecycle....) and got an email from some guy in the Valley saying he'd take it. So he came today and turned out be this scrappy little indy kid (or, rather, the kind of boy the indy kids *want* to look like) with a hat that said "ugly stick" on it and grease covered jeans. Totally adorable. So I was less sad, just because he was cute. He let me drive it up the ramps onto the trailer (woo! new skill!) and mentioned he runs demolition derby. He says my car runs so well he might use it for that! A far more glamorous end than rusting in a junk yard.

Oh, farewell, my dearly beloved car. Farewell.

oh, the agony....

2008-01-27T21:08:00.000-05:00

My L-word dealer is out of town. No fix for me this week. Ack. I've been distracting myself with this. Warning - spoilers and sooooo NSW (nudity *and* guns).

Did anybody make dinner this week? I forgot. But next Sunday, I'm all over it. Tell me what you're bringing so I can menu plan.

Oh, god. You're all watching it right now! I'm dying.....

coming soon to a diner near you...

2008-01-26T19:10:00.001-05:00

Well, the diner near me, that is. Yes, it's CLAW. C***** Lady's Arm Wrestling. Here's a sneak preview with Down Low Cho and Lefty Red.

the dice, there are none

2008-01-25T13:59:00.001-05:00

Despite the fact that Fed Ex managed to make a timely delivery of sperm, there will be no insemination this weekend. My u/s today showed what the RE thinks might be a polyp in my uterus - not a big deal and easy to get rid of if that is indeed what it is, but it is not desirable to try to grow a baby in an already occupied uterus. So no dice.

On the brighter side, I had one perfect 17mm follicle on the left and a nice 11 mm lining, which seems good for CD 13. I've got my operating instructions for when to call for luteal phase blood work and my appointment for next cycles HSG (which will clarify the polyp issue) and free reign to drink whiskey all weekend.

oh, dr. acu i heart you

2008-01-24T20:01:00.000-05:00

I love my acu doctor as much as I hate Fed Ex. More, in fact. Today was my first appointment in nearly a month; the holidays got in the way last time. Oh, it was good. It's so warm there and he's so kind and interested in how I am and the needles fascinate me and then there's the mini massage with lineament and the heat lamp on my feet (!). Then the whole rest of the day is blissfull and cloud-like. I swear. This time I got some moxibustion (a term I know from a hysterical Chinese studies class I took in high school). "I'm just going to warm this one up a little" he said, referring to the needle in my belly. He thinks cold is one of my biggest problems. I've been cold since my period started - no lie. It sucks.

The minor annoyance today, ttc-wise - was good old Clear Blue. Poor thing. I ran out of her sticks. Some bff I am. So I have no hormonal data for today so far, other than that I can gather without the help of a machine. But tomorrow! It will be all pee all the time. Just you wait.

Tomorrow is wanding #2 - also known as "cheap lube saturated wang cam scan" which is my new favorite term I stole from my newest favorite mama bloggers. They are fab. And they use terms like wang, which I will be working into everyday conversation more often.

Anyway, Dr. Acu has massaged away all my angst over Fed Ex and I'm drinking my ovulation tea (And liking it - usually this is the herb mix that I like the least. This Means Some Thing.) and getting ready to do an opk before bed. Regardless of what it says, there's sperm on it's was eastward - should get to school sometime tomorrow morning. Last Ditch Hail Mary DIY insem, here we go!

Now I have to go give the cat her anti-diarrhea medicine. Don't you wish you lived chez Starrhill?

oh, fed ex, how i do hate you

2008-01-23T17:26:00.000-05:00

There really is no need for the boring details. I mean, it's Fed Ex - I should expect them to fuck up at this point, right? They've done it before.

Anyway. I though the delivery of this cycle's bio-tranz kit to my donors was totally fucked, but thanks to my donors' willingness to drive way the fuck out to the central Fed Ex lair, we should be in business. Let me reiterate how much I hate Fed Ex. One of the many, many reasons I will be glad to be done with this, baby in hand, is that I can then never. ever. ever. use fucking Fed Ex again. Never again.

Yes, it's my Really Truly Last Chance DIY Insem. My Hail Mary insem, as some would call it. There'll be no prometrium to work it's magic with my luteal phase this time, as I'm being monitored by the RE to get a nice baseline for his future work. So it will just be me and Teh Spermz and whatever help old Mary's willing to give. And, yes, my atheist ass will be counting off the Hail Mary on my fingers (no rosary to be had) because what is prayer but ritual set up to bring on comfort and hope. I'll also have my voodoo charm from de-cryptic stashed under the bed, just in case you thought I was slipping.

*sigh* Stupid Fed Ex.

as promised

2008-01-20T18:02:00.000-05:00

Virtual Sunday dinner.

What? Did you think I'd start before you got here? Nah. Go sit by the fire and entertain me while I cut up this chicken.

Could you please distract the cats? I might loose a limb.

Shh... this is the part where I kind of need to concentrate. Note my new pan.

You like gravy, right? Everything in this is local, mostly stuff I froze from summer. Except the peas. Oh, and the potatoes. Those are from the store. You can't have everything.

Ok, let me get this in the oven and then you can refill my wine glass. You did bring wine, didn't you?

Wash your hands, now. It's time to eat.

I sure hope one of you brought salad, because I don't have any. There's lots, so whoever wants some pot pie - come on down.

more memes more of the time

2008-01-20T13:25:00.000-05:00

Oh, boy! Tagged! By Chips! Woo! And Hoo! And more exclamation points!

Everything You Wanted to Know About Me But Were Afraid To Ask:

(ok, not everything, just 6 things)

1. I have wanted for the past decade or so, to change jobs to be something like a mail carrier. Or a taxi driver.

2. I love cheetos. Love. Them.

3. Also, I love chickens. I'd get a few to have here at my house but one of my cats is a menace and I can't in good conscience bring small fuzzy chicks into my home. They would quickly become a tasty meal for Fifi. This is unacceptable as it would not allow them to lay eggs to be a tasty meal for me.

4. I have not had my hair cut in a salon/barber/beauty shop in something like 6 or 7 years. It's all been done like this every 3rd or 4th summer, then it grows out long and I do it again.

5. It is harder for me to think of 6 things about myself than I thought it would be.

6. My earlobes are not the same. One looks regular and the other has a little extra bit of lobe. My grandma and my cousin are the same. Some people notice it right away, some people take years to notice.

Bonus Extra Credit Thing You Wanted To Know Because #5 Didn't Really Count - I love trashy novel. All sorts - from the cheesey ones in the supermarket to the old school Naiad romances.

My Mother Said To Pick The Very Best Ones And You Are It:
The Injector - who will likely not play, but still
Vee & Jay -to occupy them during the 2ww (yes, that's both, so 2 posts, please )
Gold Star - to return the favor
Gypsygrrl - so I will remember to add her to my blogroll

Teh Rules:
1) Link to the person that tagged you. (that would be me)
2) Post the rules on your blog. (rules!)
3) Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself. (hmmm....)
4) Tag at least three people at the end of your post and link to their blogs. (yikes - who to tag?)
5) Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog. (this is the part I might forget)
6) Let the fun begin! (memes - cheesey but so fun!)

in other words

2008-01-20T13:09:00.000-05:00

Yes. Yes, there will be sperming up this cycle. Yes. Why? Because.

Because I refuse to give up hope. Much as hope likes to bite me in the ass, it is still my constant companion and bff. As the AddProb kids, say, "... hope is like a damn jack-in-the-box, popping up again and again, whether or not you're sick and tired of the plinkety-plink little tune." Sometimes I am sick of it, but I don't think I'd ever want to be too deaf to hear it.

And as Vee said, "...here’s to the light at the end of the tunnel folks; here’s to the journey’s end. For all of us. Soon."

friday it is

2008-01-18T23:40:00.000-05:00

So my full snow day did not materialize today, but it was a good day none the less. We started late and there were only 6 children and, although the post-nap period sucked, I did get a new hat from one of my kids, which he was very, very excited about. Pictures and lengthy prose about my lost hats to come.

Anyway - how about a list? You know you want it.
Teh Nice, in no particular order:

new hat, see above
at least half an hour in the card aisle at CVS with Sophie, buying cards for her mama, who does not want gifts for her birthday this year. The child's sense of humor is coming along nicely, thank you.
guess who I just had drinks with? The currently most famous blogger near Starr Hill and my very, very dear old friend. Yes, you wish you'd been there. Yes, there was Maker's Mark.
roasted chicken. Fuck me. I get chickens from my neighbor, who runs a restaurant and gets his meat from Polyface. The meat was falling off the bone, despite the over cooking and lack of brining. I rinsed it, salted and peppered it, stuck half an onion in it, stuck it in the oven and called it done. Amazing. All local all the time, y'all. Come over for chicken pot pie on Sunday.
good news, or, rather, no news, about my lower GI challenged cat. All her blood work came back normal - no thyroid, kidney or liver issues. Whew. Now I get to dose her with anti-diarrheals and home made yogurt.
sadly short but delightful phone chat with Hard Girl
going to bed with a good but kind of scary book
possible coffee with cho-girl tomorrow

who's your daddy

2008-01-17T16:52:00.000-05:00

Or, Tell Me What a Feminist Looks Like

As per usual, I am late to the game. There's been a lot of discussion going on in the world of blogs about parenting, gender roles, and such. I won't try to frame the conversations at all, but you can go here and here and here to see what angles other folks are coming from, but Bri called for a term paper and I'd better hand mine in before I drop yet another letter grade.

As I'm going about this Baby Search alone*, I don't have personal, immediate investment in the whole bio-mom/nonbio-mom discussion. But. I have some very definite opinions about using sex to box people in (shut up, KP), and I think, as has been said, that the stereotype of "clueless dad" needs to go, whether you're parenting with a husband or a wife or a partner or nobody. There is no good service done to any of our children by trash talking, even as a joke, a parent of either gender. And I know, as a feminist, that there is no equality when anyone is considered lesser based purely on gender.

I was born to and raised by two very nice straight parents. I was raised a feminist, and yes, I identified myself that way at age 9**. My mama stayed home and breastfed me and my dad went to school. Until I was just under a year when, to hear my mama tell it, she was going crazy and needed to get a job. Which she did - at a group home for retarded adults. I went with her. By the time I was 5, both my parents worked (or were going to school? - really I can't remember that well) outside the house. I learned "feminine" and "masculine" things from my dad: how to cook, make hospital corners with a flat sheet, build a fire, hold the door open for people, take my hat off indoors (yes, only the one with brims). I learned un-gendered things from my mama: how to stand up and speak when I see injustice, to speak kindly whenever possible, to see my sex as a privilege, not a burden. Neither of my parents taught me the "boy" things - bike riding, ball throwing. (I hate sports. They might feel bad about this now. Poor them. I don't feel bad about it at all - I just hate sports.) There were not gendered roles in my house growing up - at least not that I noticed. The picture of "dad" in my mind is similar to that of "mom" - an adult who loves and cares for a child. There is no "secondary" involved in the parenting model I have.

Sometimes, a kid will come to school with mismatched hair clips, or a particularly messy hair-do or an inadequate jacket. Sometimes, somebody - another parent, or a teacher - will say something along the lines of "looks like daddy was in charge this morning" and laugh. No. No, no, no. This bullshit needs to stop. There is an assumption among many people that the "dad" is somehow a lesser partner in the parenting game. He can't quite get with it - forgets jackets and might dry the baby's butt with a hand dryer. Funny, yes? No. Maybe for a movie made in the 80's, but let's be done with that tired old crap, ok? It seems to me that it is very, very hard to step up to the plate if there's already somebody standing there. Some folks who've been part of this conversation have said how hard they are working to see their partners' ways of doing things as fine - the butt will likely get dry one way or another.

I came back from my trip to Seattle full of awe and pride in my friends out there and how they were coping together with those first initial post-partum days. Another friend was talking to me on the phone a few days later, looking back on her first days at home with her baby, who's now 2, and I swear I could see her shaking her head as she told me how hard it was (yes), how tired she was (yes) and how there really was nothing her husband could do with the baby because men just don't get it (ummm - wtf?). I jumped in quickly with what I'd seen in Seattle - the careful split of sleep time, the relationship that the dad and his daughter had begun to build from the moment she was born, how happy the mom was to see them creating special things they did together, how relieved that it was not all on her. They were parenting together - not just being a mom and a dad.

Now, you may be sitting there in front of your computer, shaking your head, because who am I to talk about all this shit when I won't be grappling with these issues in my own home. But I was, as I said, raised a feminist and I was reminded by Chicory that

"one of the crucial acts I could do on a daily basis was complicate the notion of “feminine”."

And I'll do that by holding doors and not carrying a purse and raising whatever child comes to me to see hirself as competent beyond gender. And I'll also tell you, more often than you'd like, when I see other people complicating any notions of gender. Especially when those notions come around parenting.

Because it's not enough that we shake up gender if we are still thinking of the roles in things like parenting as being so very different. (from Bri)

So I think I've wandered off from what was originally going on over at dosmamas, but what I really walked away from all these recent blog posts with was this - you can and should call yourself and your partner whatever name fits; you can and should raise your babies with the best part of yourself put forth; you should not let your sex or status as bio- or nonbio-parent stand in the way of being kind and tender and wise - with your children and with anyone else you're around. Your children will take little parts of you to make themselves - be you a mom or a mommy or mama or baba or dad or papa - that means you're important, no matter what, so be sure those parts they are taking are the best parts of you. I come away remembering that all this ttc shit I've been throwing at you isn't about getting pregnant, or having a baby girl or boy - it's about being a parent - not a mom or a dad but a parent. That is, an adult who loves and cares for a child the best way I can.

ETA - I think I strayed off topic enough that I can only hope for a D at best. D for effort? Please?

*Ok, so not alone - really SOOOOO not alone. I mean, really, here you all are. Yay. But isn't the image of me running around searching for a baby funny?
** Ugh - Sophie could not tell me what feminist meant when I asked her 2 days ago.

let sleeping cats lie

2008-01-17T15:51:00.001-05:00

let sleeping cats lie
Originally uploaded by corey jo

Just testing the new to me Blog This feature on flickr.

finally!

2008-01-17T10:38:00.000-05:00

It snowed! We are still ourselves, not Richmond!

None of the area schools had it together to close this morning, so we all trecked to work just as it was starting to come down and then closed by 9 am. Ok, actually, it was much more dramatic than that and involved me leaving my car at school and my assistant leaving her car at my house and my boss driving them both home, but the real point is: SNOW DAY! Hooray!

I will: nap, read, look at the snow, eat lunch (maybe at the diner if I can find a date), nap, look at the snow, watch the second disk of Gangs of New York (which I just read the book of), nap, look at the snow, and blog. I swear. There will be blogging.

the visit

2008-01-16T20:20:00.000-05:00

Hmmmm.....now that I've set myself some sort of lame-ass goal, I'm stuck. And there's nobody available on skype or IM to distract me. Might as well tell you about the visit to the RE visit Wednesday.

My appointment was in the middle of the day - 11 am - so I had to find a sub for work. So I also got to be out and about at lunchtime! Woo! Cho-girl came to my subbing rescue and after I placated a crying child with promises of cupcakes at circle, I was on my way. Hey! There was a birthday to celebrate! It wasn't an empty promise! And she was crying because she loves me! Now she knows that a cupcake is better than me.

We'll skip the preliminaries - checking in, paying (you do that first at this place - weird), getting called back. And move on to the real deal: the dildo-cam was giving me the finger as I walked into the exam room. Luckily, this boded nothing for the exam - everything was good, all parts in place. But, of course, since this was a base-line exam, I didn't get any answers. But no news is good news, right. Except, the guys who do the HSG are all full for the day that works for me this cycle. So I'll be putting that treat off until February. Ugh. I wanted that done and out of the way, plus I wanted the info only an HSG can give me. Does it seem slightly ridiculous to any of y'all that the hospital only does these on Fridays and only has 2 spots per Friday and there is only a 4 or 5 day of one's cycle when one can get a dye-job? Yeah, me, too.

In what must be an attempt to reduce, reuse and recycle, my RE's office covers the dildo-cam with a regular old latex glove (yes, they did ask if I was allergic). There's a blob of lube (which they artfully call "gel") and the the thing gets a glove stuck on it, and then there's more lube - I mean "gel." The instrument itself is, as most if you know, long and skinny and had been put into the middle finger of the Glove Designated For Me, so that's what I saw when I first walked in the room. The nurse said it wasn't on purpose. Whew. It is a new latex glove, by the way - I think this falls under the reduce part of reduce, reuse, recycle.

Here's the real question for this cycle: to insem or not to insem? This is a monitoring cycle, so I won't be taking any meds. That means no prometrium, which I've been told I need. Hhmmm.... what to do?

more, more, more

2008-01-14T19:28:00.000-05:00

Ok, so let's make a deal. I'll post more, you won't leave. Deal? Let's spit and shake on it. My grandpa used to actually spit on his hands before he lifted something heavy.

HD had a post recently about writing and doing it more and how she should. And how reading good things makes her

simultaneously like a brilliant writer and someone who attempts to describe magnificent events with words like “nice” and “um, nicer.”

As an aside can we just give it up for her, because that is fucking brilliant. Funny and true. And yes. I read all the time, anything I can get my hands on - good, bad, trashy, fiction, non-fiction, newspapers, magazines, signs. There must be a job somewhere for a Reader. That would be my ideal job, reading all the time. And snacking. Perfect. That was a digression. Anyway, reading good things makes me want to write, but also makes me want to run screaming, because what could even come close to some of the beautiful things that have already been written.

Anyway. I want to write more. Here. Not for any reason (I've no book ambitions, like other folks, who *should* have books, because then I can stay up late reading something good) just because I like to. November was harder and more fun than I expected, and it seems my intrinsic motivation is not so good, so I'll impose some sort of guidelines and some punishments if I fail. Punishments like public humiliation.

So I resolve to write 3 posts a week - kind of like my own personal NoBloWooHa. LB and Cali are nominated to hold me to it, as one lives close enough to kick my ass and the other will hustle up here to take one of my kidneys if I fuck up (and I'll still probably give her dinner). I'll be counting on protection from the rest of y'all if they come after me together.

Anything y'all want to hear about? More food posts, I promise. Fabulous details of having non-sexual objects up my hooha, I promise. Cat pictures, anecdotes about Sophie's tweener angst and greatness, love letters to Virginia - everything you've come to expect. I promise.

Meanwhile, good things and bad things: Share the love - here and here. It's the IVP all call - look up and you'll see our version of the bat signal. Yes, that's a vulva in the sky. Jenny and Ezra have ridden a rough road and have their tiny girl home with them now and Kim miscarried her long-time-coming boy on Saturday. At 11 fucking weeks. Fine, good things and hard and shitty things. Seems like I've written this post before.

I'm off the the RE tomorrow. Woo. CD3 blood work and u/s. So, yes, that was a stupid waste of a last ditch DIY cycle. But on the bright side, I had a nice glass of scotch with my weekly dose of the L-word.

irony not lost

2008-01-13T20:21:00.000-05:00

But, watch this anyway.

the naming of cats

2008-01-11T17:54:00.000-05:00

I'm sure you've guessed by now that my name's not really Starr Hill Girl. Starr Hill's where I live. And I am a girl - by biology and by identity. But I do have a Real Name. Which I am not going to reveal to you, so don't get all excited.

I've got the usual three names on my birth certificate, first, middle and last. The first name is reasonably gender-neutral, which was annoying when I was a kid, but I'm damn happy with now. My middle name is from a Bob Dylan song. Yes. You can take it up with my mother. I'm also pretty happy with it, although it was a bitch to learn to spell. I'm generally called by my first name. With some divergent exceptions: my family, my very close friends, some old school theater people, and the internet often or always call me by a combination of my first and middle names.

Now when I say my family, I mean almost all of them: cousins, my maternal grandparents (salut, Grandpa), most all of my aunts and uncles and my parents. It must have started when I was too tiny to remember, this two-fer name of mine that makes me sound like a somewhat progressive southern stereotype. They don't all call me this consistently, but I think of it first and foremost as my family name.

When I was just out of high school, I had a great and long term babysitting job for a little boy we'll call David, because that was his name. He lived with his mama, who had become my good friend, in one of the dependencies of an estate south of town. The people who owned the estate sent their son to my high school and so he and I were friends, and they had some theater friends of mine living in another dependency (where the hell am I going with this?), so I was there a lot, as were the vast majority of what was then the downtown arts community of my town. Anyway. David's father did not live with him and the visitation situation was sketchy at best and the father had the same first name as me. Which lead to great disappointment and rock throwing one day when he'd been told that "C_____ is coming over today," and it was me and not his dad. He was young - 2 1/2 at the time and so his mom and I simply changed what he called me. To my family name. It was cute; he put the accent on the first name, not the second as most people do. And it stuck and there were no more rocks (although there were other tantrums - the kid was kind of a mess at that point). And everybody on the estate began to call me that, too - the kid had the run of the place, which was so great. And all the downtown art kids of yesteryear began to call me that, too (because I used to be out and about, doing things other than trying to knock myself up - ah, youth). Now do you see where I was going with all that?

I began referring to myself with both names as it became more common to hear myself called that outside of family. But I didn't, and still don't, introduce myself as anything other than my first and last name. I go by my first name at work (don't get me started on why I want my kids to be on a first name basis with me) as well as most other non-home places, and I'm slightly surprised when somebody I don't know well calls me by my two-name name. In terms of the currency of intimacy, that shit's expensive, yo. I've got to know I love you before I expect to hear my family name come out of your mouth.

But. My family name, this two-fer pet name, is what I go by on the internets. Interesting, no? Almost all my on-line stuff is with that name - with the exception of sykpe, which is the old Starr Hill deal (so now you can skype me - yay!) for no real reason except that's how I started a bunch of accounts. So all these folks in the internet, my invisible friends, call me by the name that I have until recently used only with people I'm close to. It's like a sort of instant intimacy, which is appropriate since so many of you hear in great detail about my CM and amazing color-changing boobs.

I don't use any version , pet or other wise, of my real name on my blog because I don't want somebody to be able to easily search by my name and find me - the same reason I don't name my town, even though I'll link to things that will name it. I try not to use other folks' real names either, because I'm not sure I've got the right to do that. Plus acronym-able nicknames are fun! Sophie is clearly an exception to this, in part because the thought of going back and changing all those posts with her name makes me want to put an ice pick in my spleen, and also because there are a million girls her age with that name (really - I know of 5 just in my circles of people). I might change my tune about this at some point, however, and go edit all those posts, ice pick in hand.

Names and their variations are fascinating to me. Why do you call yourself what you do? Why were you called that, or something else, by the people who first named you? The people who named you after that?

The naming of cats is a difficult matter,
It isn't just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I'm mad as a hatter
When I tell you a cat must have three
different names.

First of all, there's the name
that the family use daily,
Such as Victor, or Jonathan,
George or Bill Bailey--
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names
if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen,
some for the dames;
Such as Plato, Admetus,
Electra, Demeter--
But all of them sensible everyday names.

But I tell you,
a cat needs a name that's particular,
A name that is peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he
keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers,
or cherish his pride?

Of names of this kind,
I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quazo or Coripat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellyrum--
Names that never belong
to more than one cat.

But above and beyond
there's still one name left over,
And that is the name that you will never guess;
The name
that no human research can discover--
But The Cat Himself Knows,
and will never confess.

When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought,
of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.

(We can give our thanks to Eliot here, of course, but you'll have to imagine my dad 's voice reading this to me, as that was the way I first heard it one night before bed when I was very small.)

coming out

2008-01-10T18:09:00.000-05:00

Ummm.... apparently, it's national delurking day - or, rather, yesterday was. Who knew? Clearly not me. So delurk already! Tell me.... ah.... your favorite color(s) in the comments. Because yes, I do want to know you're there. And I don't want the terrorists to win.

(Badge stolen from papernapkin, although I saw it was time to delurk on redneck mommy)

where have i been?

2008-01-09T20:15:00.001-05:00

Funny you should ask.....
I've been:
*at work
*in bed with the worst head ache of the year (for me, that is)
*in the car with Sophie (the kid's got a lot of shit going on)
*in Free Union, watching the L-word.

There's all sorts of things I might ought to fill you in on (heheh, 2 prepositions in a row is funny), like my deaf cat, my desire to be on vacation all the time, the recent warm weather and how it makes me want summer, my car situation, my views on the election, my lack of a roommate, but blah, blah, blah.

But what's really important? The L-word. Yes, it was everything it's cracked up to be: hot girls, outrageous plot lines and more hot girls. My friend who tivos it for me had us all set up: she'd recorded the last episode from the last season, too - as a refresher. We let her baby stay up to watch it with us (we covered her eyes during the sex, don't worry) and then put her to be and broke out the chocolate cookies and hunkered down with the premiere.

Oh, my program.... as my grandma would say - so good and yet, so, really, not good. And yes, I am about to sit down with my dinner sized bowl of popcorn and re-watch it. What's it to you?

ETA:
(Warning! Possible spoilers! Jay, Vee - beware!)

The "Our Chart" (what-the-fuck-ever) version on line is edited within an inch of its life. The hot scene with Tasha and Alice at the end was totally cut all to shit.

"Oh-nine-hundred-o'clock in the morning" = best line of the show.

The "you love me but you're not in love with me" conversation between Shane (*sigh*) and what's her name? I've had that exact conversation. Only I didn't run out and commit arson afterwards. This is why my life is not on Showtime. (I did hang on to a certain dutch oven and, more recently a very nice sweater - but I'll be returning them both! I swear! But, F your I, break my heart and leave your shit at my house then it becomes part of the landscape and then I wear it and cook with it. Until I mail it back.)

Who the hell takes care of that baby all the time? And the pre-school interview scene made me ill. Ill. Please tell me that shit doesn't really happen. Also, why was it weird for Angelica to sign something? Baby signs are painfully hip these days. (I mean in no way to bash baby signing - it's great - but still, totally the baby fad for the new millennium)

Helena's cell mate is hot.

x's and o's

2008-01-07T15:04:00.001-05:00

friday night

2008-01-05T10:51:00.000-05:00

I had a date last night! With my tiny bf, the smallest cho! He is soooo good looking.....*swoon*. As he is his mother's child, he came with gear: a big old bag o' tricks - movies and treats and feathers and who knows what else. Those cho's - they are happy to haul shit. And plans, he came with Teh Planz. For making ink out of charcoal and watching Planet Earth and making s'mores. And for not leaving the house. *sigh* My hero. There is always the Going Out Option when dining Chez Starrhill, because there are only a million restaurants within spitting distance, and my tiny bf first said he wanted to go to Mono Loco (he likes calamari), but then, seemingly out of the blue, he wondered aloud if I had ever ordered pizza at my house. So we stayed in.... ah....heaven. Also, he can correctly identify Giant Salamanders just by seeing their feet and he loves my cats. And we Shared. Emotions, I mean. He confessed to being "nervous" to come here without his brother, and that the last time he came over he was "weeping." I love a sensitive man. Especially one in a sweater.

And then we made s'mores. With a kit he'd been given for xmas. Note the kit above left. Also note that it appears to have been attacked by mice, but really it was just opened by an 8 year old. The marshmallows were slightly stale, but the s'mores were great all the same. Post s'mores, we sat on the couch to watch one of the Planet Earth DVDs. There was *almost* snuggling. Almost.

Here's an instructional video, just in case you don't know how to make your own s'mores.

f yer i

2008-01-02T16:13:00.001-05:00

Oregon Trail on facebook is damn near as good as the old graphics-free original.

Buckwheat is from the rhubarb family. (thanks, Chips!)

I hate it when people call their vulvas vaginas.

what did you say?

2008-01-01T22:26:00.000-05:00

You said you want to know what the hell is going on in the Land O' TTC? Well, fuck. I'd like to know, too.

I had 3 insems between noon on Saturday and 12:01 am Sunday (just so I could mark it as a Sunday insem on old FF) - about 6 hours apart.

Using the "Research" method of pinpointing ovulation, FF tells me I ovulated Saturday, which is what I thought all along. It so nice when we all agree, isn't it? But. My temps are for shit. Total shit. Low like in the old pre-acu days (which I didn't do this cycle - herbs but no needles), and a spike that looks clear to other folks, but not so much to me. And my once-so-pretty-and-sparkly was g.o.n.e. Saturday am, never to return (I think, it's so hard to tell once you've shot up).

So who's to say? Who's to fucking say.

all local all the time

2008-01-01T17:01:00.000-05:00

My roommate gave me a copy of Animal, Vegetable, Miracle for xmas. Yes, I am late to the party, as usual; I know everybody's been talking about it for months now. But anyway, it's great. For my money, better than The Omnivore's Dilemma, which I did love. (Although, The Botany of Desire was better, I thought and it was Fast Food Nation and The Jungle that really made my shopping habits what they are today.) Now that my vacation is ending (cue sobbing), I'll have *so* much time to write about it. Because I am sure nobody else in the world of food blogs has talked about it yet.

Who else has read it? Chicory, A, this is right up y'all's alley. Not an euphemism. I swear.

Now, ask me why I do book links with Powell's.

Whoa, that's a lot of links, little lady.....

not to fuck up the mojo or anything

2007-12-31T21:58:00.000-05:00

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....

2007-12-27T20:42:00.000-05:00

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

2007-12-26T12:13:00.000-05:00

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

2007-12-25T00:51:00.000-05:00

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

2007-12-22T20:20:00.000-05:00

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

2007-12-21T21:35:00.000-05:00

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!

2007-12-20T15:01:00.000-05:00

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

2007-12-17T17:14:00.000-05:00

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 blog land 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

2007-12-15T20:38:00.000-05:00

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:

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)
beginnings of feeling sick
confirmed Dread about my dearly beloved car with bonus well-intentioned but still lame-o comments from mechanic who delivered the news
worse and worse feeling sick
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.)
shitty news from Cali, who is due for good news, not shit
skipping 2 xmas parties that I actually wanted to leave the house for
negative hpt

And the Less-Than-Crap:

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

2007-12-13T20:17:00.000-05:00

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

brava

2007-12-12T21:48:00.000-05:00

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

2007-12-10T20:10:00.000-05:00

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

2007-12-09T21:59:00.000-05:00

(from Darren, of course)

i <3 lists

2007-12-09T21:32:00.000-05:00

(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

2007-12-08T08:50:00.001-05:00

Stolen from Hope.

clipped from a214.ac-images.myspacecdn.com

truth and lies

2007-12-08T08:36:00.000-05:00

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!

2007-12-04T21:19:00.000-05:00

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...

2007-12-03T20:23:00.001-05:00

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.

caved

and on a far more entertaining note

CD1

endless summer starting

not dead

lunch et cetera

recap + lunches

from princess to little camel: the update

news from the RE plus lunch and numbers

late lunch with bonus picture

rememberance

count down

how about another?

and now....

bad lunch/bad day

wednesday lunch

stolen meme and lunch, not pants

dangerous eating 2.0

how to feel accomplished in 2 easy steps

lunch, lunch, lunch (pants)

*

thursday lunch, or are you sick of quiche yet?

all local all the time

a bird on the fridge door is worth 2 in the hand

psa

Log Your Lunch for the win!

teh round-up plus bonus new idea (!)

and the horse you rode in on

debt

things to do when you're not pg

very hard meme *sigh*

the good, the bad, and the not-so-ugly

grandma tuesday

queer revolution, travel and other weekend goodies

meme-tastic

clap your hands

some clarifications

more fun than a barrel of vipers

le sigh

just another morning in spring

hand-holder the bestest

surgery post - finally

mea culpa

woe.

almost, as the kids say

i went to the fertility clinic and all i got were these tattoos

no show snow day

many are the motherfucking obstacles in my path

lord.

friday for the win!

mostly ttc shit

F your I

does 2 in 1 night make up for it?

so much for that 3 posts a week bullshit

random friday randomness

also...

do unto others

the long goodbye

oh, the agony....

coming soon to a diner near you...

the dice, there are none

oh, dr. acu i heart you

oh, fed ex, how i do hate you

as promised

more memes more of the time

in other words

friday it is

who's your daddy

let sleeping cats lie

finally!

the visit

more, more, more

irony not lost

the naming of cats

coming out

where have i been?

x's and o's

friday night

f yer i

what did you say?

very hard meme sigh