My Books, My Belly, and My Gag Reflex.

I have to admit, I've never been very good at taking instruction verbally.
In fact, I rarely take instruction well at all unless it's self-instruction, but that's besides the point.

So, of course the moment that everyone finds out I'm pregnant I'm knocked on my ever-growing tushy by a barrage of "do this" and "don't do this" and a handful other less inviting phrases.

While I graciously appreciate everyone's concerns and intents to share their boundless knowledge and experience, why is it that even though motto of pregnancy is and always has been "No woman is alike", that the first people to forget this is women who have been pregnant?

I expect what I expect, and what I read, and more importantly; I will roll with the punches and get where I get when I get there. I don't need to know that I will be kicking my cat off my bed in the middle of the night because I no longer love him, and even more so, YES I am aware that you don't leave newborns alone in a room with two cats.

C'mon people, it's the first time a baby has been inside me with the full-on intention of coming out, but it isn't the first time this girl has been around a baby. They aren't foreign objects to me.
I have been around a few years, long enough to know that 1. babies are kind of hard to break, and 2. if in fact you do break them, it's ever-so-helpful that their daddy is a medical assistant.

Back to my original point.
I don't take well to people spouting off their opinions (or 'facts' depending on their assertion level) to me. I'm a reader and a doer.
At my appointment yesterday with my midwife, as she was flipping through literature and explaining the high points of the first trimester and what to/what not to worry about:(which btw, did not annoy me because it's her job) I already was aware of 90% of what she said.

Because I, the day after I got the 'you're knocked up' sign from my self-pregnancy test, went out and bought some books. And I read.
The most prevalent message I'm getting from all of it (other than the obvious do's and don'ts) is:

Every woman, and every pregnancy is different.

So as we go into it, it's a whole new ballgame, ladies and gentlemen.
While I appreciate the fact that your wife threw up at the sight of raw chicken, and that you ate peanut butter and jelly at midnight everyday for a month, and you have the "best" cure for constipation........

frankly, conversating about vomit and defacation isn't really what makes a pregnant lady feel fabulous, if you know what I mean. :)

Staycation and a Little Surprise.

I've been off work for a week.
It's crazy, because I thought I'd get WAY more done than I did.

I must add, I did get a lot done, but it sure feels like it's only been 2 days, not a week. But whatever.

We went through our storage, and now there is a huge "Goodwill" pile in the hall, as well as a garbage pile. The closet in the second bedroom is also much more empty.
I cleaned my fridge out. I reorganized my kitchen appliances and whatnots.
Odds and ends job completely all over the place.

I have come to one conclusion. Work sucks, I wanna stay home all the time.

*sigh*
Never gonna happen, but my, I love my staycations.
Granted, I would gladly trade one in for a trip to...face it...anywhere. But I got so much more done this way. And....it was cheap. I like cheap. I embrace cheap. It's one of my mottos.

Yesterday the hubby and I celebrated 4 years of marriage.
My, time does fly. We had pizza and watched Star Wars 4 - 6. I slept through most of The Empire Strikes Back, but hey. I was tired, in my defense.
It was a nice anniversary.

I digress. It's been a fast week, and I want it to start over. Also, I have a myriad of things to accomplish today and this weekend. So why am I blogging.
I need more tea and to get moving!

Ah yes. And one more thing.

I'm pregnant. :)

~The Unraveling One

Sincerely, The Starving Housewife.

Do you remember that feeling you used to get when your a kid, and you have your nice warm house, and big delicious dinners, and all the coolest toys you play with, and no bigger concerns than who you're going to sit next to at lunchtime tomorrow?

Yeah, all these little pouty kids that strut down the leaf-speckled sidewalks looking like the most pathetic creatures on the planet make me sick.

I mean, not that I want to go back to wearing hot pink sweaters and crooked ponytails and trying not to make eye contact with the creepy lunchlady in a hairnet....but I have to say I kinda miss that carelessness of childhood.
Adolescent minds simply do not comprehend the side effects of growing up.

~

After careful calculation between my disposable income and the stack of bills that clutter my mailbox daily, I have come to the conclusion that I can pay everything diligently and on time as long as I cease to eat for the next 6 months. Hm. Yes, that will work. Think of all the weight I will lose.

However, bearing in mind that if I die from starvation that nobody will get paid, some other process must be administered in balancing my finances. Either that, or I'm going to need to take up a second job licking stamps or making tacos for a pimply teenage boss.

Our dear friends at the Department of Revenue have sweetly requested payment for my previous year's balance due, and rightly so. I concede that I owe them the money. But I must admit, I'm a little miffed that in an analysis of my disposable income in order to determine my monthly payment that by excluding my credit card payments as offset, ANY 26 year old girl is going to plunge into starvation when they tell me I have to give them $112 a month.

This, of course, is actually the part that is only making things worse. The initial bombshell was a garnishment I recieved on October 1st because the lady at the collection agency is a biznitch and turned me in because my payment was...wait for it...


Not skipped.
Not avoided.
Not missed in over a year.

but late. Just a week late.

Soooo....now, rather than making my $25.00 a month payment, they are garnishing my paychecks for $560 a month. Seems fair. (cough cough)


Uhhhh.

Being the spreadsheet freak that I am, I created an simple filliable calculator in a program that allows me to input all my monthly bills, my monthly paychecks, and it will spit out an ending balance that I fondly refer to as my 'scrap fund'.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is what this girl, husband, and two cats will be surviving off of for the month.

$33.00.

Look like Mr. Capital One and Mr. Household Bank will be playing a role in my life again. :)

I think now I could really go for some of that cafeteria food and a crooked ponytail.

Lost in Translation, I Blah You Too.

Ever notice how you can say one thing, and someone will hear something completely and vastly different?

Annoying as hell, isn't it.

I can pull out of my personal verbal closet a thousand things I have said to my husband and I would have been better off slamming my fingers in a door it would be less painful. Not that he intends it wrong. He just doesn't hear it right.

It's okay though, I'm not too worried about it. I've heard it from a crapload of spouses so I'm pretty sure it's more often the rule than the exception.
Face it, ladies, men and women do NOT speak the same language.

I can say "It's on the top shelf somewhere"

And he will hear: "It's on the top shelf in plain view. If at first momentary glance you don't see it, be sure not to touch or move any item, and instead start hollering about how it isn't at all where I said it would be."

But don't be upset, men. We do it too.

You can say "I need that socket wrench right there, can you hand it to me? Yeah, right there next to the 1/8th inch and the phillips screwdriver. No, not that, that's a hammer. Yes, that's it. Ooooh, look at you bending over, look at that butt! mmmmhmmmm!"

And we hear: "blah, blah, blah, socket wrench, blah, blah, yes, blah, no, blah blah, you look kinda fat today."

Ahhhh. It's a complicated science.

Now, let's throw a scenario out there to complicate things even more. Let's take K and her fantastic husband and throw them into a alcohol-flowing, late at night situation with some friends. See, the thing about me is that once I get a little on the tipsy side, my mouth opens and starts pouring verbal atrocities.
I start talking all subjects taboo and making innappropriate jokes to go along with it.

The pros to such an affliction, is that once some friends go out drinking with us, you bet your bottom dollar that they like us if they ever attempt such a feat a consecutive time.

The cons to ordeal is that more often than not I get the evil eye in the morning when my husband informs me that me and my girlfriends were loudly comparing bra sizes, or sharing tips on 'married lady actions'.
Yeah....I usually feel a enormous wave of regret the next day, which might I add is always a fun addition to the hangover I'm suffering through.

What can I say. Men and women, we speak different languages. And sometimes, I get a little alcohol in my system and I speak a language all my own.
I can look on the bright side.

a. My husband must really love me, because he hasn't divorced me yet.

b. I have an inate ability to screen out friends that aren't true friends, i.e. Karen embarrasses them and they can handle it.

and c. We may speak different language and communication may at times be strained, but at least whether we're a slightly embarrassed, irritated husband or a half-drunk, crude-mouthed wife: 'I Love You' is still the universal language we understand. Kind of.

If you don't look behind you, you'll never see grandma giving you the bird.

Live your life by looking through the windshield, not the rearview mirror, they say.


What freaking idiot wrote that quote.

Live your life by looking at both.
That's why they're in the same damn place, obviously.


We are all looking up the road ahead, of course, we have to. Otherwise we would walk into other people, and you might get groped, or hit by a car. So we look ahead.
And we can't go approaching the hypothetical 'speedbumps' and hills and issues, without looking back on the ones that are already behind us.

I get the point of the quote. Yes, look forward, not behind. Be positive. Blah blah blah. But seriously, it's misleading, and kinda of downright wrong.

If you forget the past, and everything in it, you'd need to re-learn how to tie your shoes everyday. So then we would all be wearing velcro shoes. And that's....well....
That would incredibly ugly.
(and all the people with velcro shoes just slumped down in front of their laptops.....)

Anyways. Back to my point. You can't NOT look behind you for so many reasons.

I mean, you could. But it would be highly unintelligent of you, you moron.

Why walk through a dark alley without looking of your shoulder? Crazy psycho killer man will dub you an easy target and *boom* off with your head.
Or, emotionally speaking, do you not want to learn from your mistakes? For example, the time you substituted super glue for the evasive little white bottle that came with your fake eyelashes?
Not at all the same thing. Didn't you feel like a complete ninny going back to the office with eyes like Tammy Fae?
Well, you should have.

In Life, like in a car, we are equipped with receptors to look in all directions. To see what stupid things we've done, and enjoy and gloat about the fantastic brilliant things.

Biggest, of course, is the windshield. Most important. Avoid the little old lady crossing the street at a painfully slow pace. I know it's hard, but you have to wait.

To each side, a little bit of what is directly behind us shows. Also helpful in case you didn't wait long enough for the old lady's weiner dog. You might want to go back and apologize for that.

And, in front of us, conveniently so, up above is a little bit of the path we left disappearing into the distance in the rearview mirror.
We don't always want to see ALL of our past, but it's good to see certain things, so we're given a large span in which to do so, which we must pick and choose what is worth looking at.

The little old lady flipping you off? Bad. (but kinda awesome at the same time)
The fact that the little yapper dog is okay? I guess for her, Good.



So, I take this opportunity to write my own quote, which is indeed wiser and more accurate than the original.
A little "Unraveled Wisdom", if you will.

Live your life by looking through the windshield, but don't ever forget the rearview mirror. Learn from past mistakes, thrive on past accomplishments, and always laugh when elderly people perform obscene gestures in your direction.



p.s. I have to look in my rear view mirror. So much of who I am, is who I loved and where I have been.
If I lost that, I would not be the woman that I am.

A Farewell Letter to a Friend.

Saying goodbye is never easy. It never will be.
But remembering them in your life, is the one thing we can give them once they are gone.
I lost a friend on Friday.
So many things I wish I would have said, and could say now.
If I could write him a letter, it would go something like this:


Phil,

Oh, so many things that I will always remember.

Firstly, thank you for the memories, and for allowing me to be a small part of your life.
I know we went our separate ways, but I was always waiting and watching for that girl to walk into your life that was meant for you.
You were a charmer, I will give you that. :)

We could walk into a room full of strangers, and because of you, leave with a group of new friends. You had that magnetic personality, and were never afraid to strike up conversations with any random person who happened into your vicinity.

Often times, those encounters were quite humorous, and I have you to thank for many a crazy conversation with a character of doubtable mentality. :)

On a tamer note, I enjoyed our random and quiet outings, like listening to Dashboard and driving all the way to Grande Rhonde to go to the casino, then changing our minds and turning around just to drive all the way back. I was a cheap date, this I realize.

There are things I still laugh at to this day, like your talent for choosing the best driveways to park at so we could kiss without you driving off the road. Cos yes, I'm sure you knew that I love getting glared at by grumpy, suspicious farmers. It's my favorite. *sigh*

Remember the giggle fits at 3am while we're walking around the block in the dark because you "had to get some air"? Of course, while you were getting air, I was smoking a cigarette, but I'm sure I needed the exercise.

And no, I still don't know how to walk in the dark, I still trip over my own feet in the daylight. :)

I love the way you got kind of squeamish when you watched me get my belly-button pierced. You said the needles were too big, and you swore you heard a *crunch* even though in my defense, it was your idea, you know.

And lastly, I suppose for old times sake I will finally settle our constant argument. I always disagreed for the sake of disagreeing, so I will give it to you now. You are right, it is Colin Farrell.

We had a lot of adventures, and did a lot of things, and had a lot of laughs.
I will always remember them, and you, as being a very tender part of my past.
You will be greatly missed.

xoxo

John Philip Verd III ~ 1982-2009 ~

Well, THAT was stupid.

Hindsight is 20/20, they say.
I'm tempted to agree.

For, sitting here in a hungover haze, lyrics from Katy Perry's 'self inflicted' pounding in my head, trying to drink black coffee because I again forgot to by creamer, and dimly remembering singing kareoke and drinking far too much alcohol last night...

I can only want to go back to yesterday and slap myself in the face.


If, perhaps, I ever listened to myself, maybe I wouldn't have a headache, wouldn't have stayed up until 4am, and I wouldn't have eaten a burrito for breakfast.
And I surely would be able to rest assured I didn't embarrass myself yesterday, which I really can't say for sure.
I suppose the good thing is, I can't remember, so no dent on my self esteem. Though, is that really the problem?


Like so many things in my life, I look back and think "well, that was stupid".

I have an hour to shower and make myself presentable, and I'm off for a goodbye party and then dinner out with some more of my family.
When really, I wish I was neck deep in pillows hiding from the world while HBO plays a soothing hum in the background.

Alas, choices, choices. I drank myself into oblivion at ridiculous hours of the morning, so now I must stumble through the rest of my day and pretend I feel FABULOUS when I am just fighting the urge to throw up in my purse.

You would imagine that I would have learned my lesson, and that the next time I have a busy Saturday ahead of me I would do the right thing and keep my antsy butt home on a Friday night, but I can already tell you-

That'll never happen.

So excuse me while I go back in my head and ensue with that slap in the face, and while I'm there, I'm going to remind myself to buy some half and half....