Saturday, February 21, 2009
Whatever humor I found in driving around with sperm, etc., was gone about oh, two seconds into the procedure. Of course, if it worked then it was worth it. If it didn't work... Well, let's not think about that yet.
Note to self: I should have had that cosmo with dinner last night. Darn. I could really use one right now. I am going to spend the rest of the day on the couch and nursing Drew, who is also sick as a puppy.
On a different note... I wrote this piece on The Nervous Breakdown last week and I've been getting some interesting feedback about it. I do appreciate all the comments, but on the other hand it feels like the comments are evaluating the relationship I wrote about. I know it's not really true. But when someone writes that they would love to read more about it, or that the story left them dangling, I feel like saying "well, welcome to my world." I sure would have liked to know more and I was left dangling too.
I am not bitter, or anything. It all happened a lifetime ago and a continent away.
My brother said that he is jealous that I had this big love in my life that is worthy of writing about. True, but what does that say about all the other loves - including the current one - that I don't write about? Why is it harder to write about something that is quiet and constant and safe? Drew read the piece too and he said that he loved me and my "dark, dark past." Snort. Never thought of myself as someone with a past, but I guess I do have one.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Right away, I came up with this:
I hated you. You knew better.
I really did hate Drew when I first met him - and I don't use the word "hate" lightly. He was SO annoying. Arrogant. Cocky. Smartass. He is still all of those things, but also many, many other, good, kind, gentle things.
I also thought of: I am still not sure. Are you?
Ok, that's seven words. When we first started dating and things were getting serious, we would lay awake at night and ask each other: Are we doing the right thing? It's sort of become a joke between us since then -- we ask that every time we make a big decision. Drew's answer is always a sort of inpatient "yes, of course we are doing the right thing." But I am never that sure about anything. Not about getting married, or moving, or taking a new job, or buying a house, or picking a paint color. It's comforting that he is sure -- it somehow makes it OK for me not to be.
Come to think of it "are we doing the right thing" is six words. So there.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
I wasn't quite sure last night, so I took a pregnancy test. I got a digital one, because the little pink and blue lines/plus-minus signs can be ambiguous at best. So Drew and I stared at the thing in the bathroom, watching the little hourglass blink as the test was "thinking." Then suddenly, the result: Not Pregnant.
"Wow," said Drew. "That's a little too blunt." I had to laugh. I guess a lot of people are happy to see that they are not pregnant and would feel relief, or find the finality of Pregnant just as rude as we found Not Pregnant. But there was something to what Drew said. The test was so cold, so clinical, so unfeeling. No "better luck next time," or "try again," or "oops." No humanity.
On the same day, I found out that my childhood friend from Budapest lost her baby. She was 7 or 8 weeks along... I guess it was a "no baby" day all around. Her situation made me think of all the stuff that may still wait for us down the road -- good and bad. Well, honestly, I can't even comprehend all of it, but I am getting vague glimpses of the highs, lows, the madness, the hope, the giddiness, the disappointment... It is like a rollercoaster and I am just trying to hold on tight, close my eyes, and scream through the scary parts.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
This would be pretty, if it weren't for the fact that our porch already flooded because of the ice collecting on the roof. Shoddy window installation was the culprit, apparently. It's been fixed and now all we have to do is replace the ugly linoleum porch flooring. I am cool with that.
In other news, before meeting Girl Chris and Boy Chris last night for dinner, I picked up my pottery from the studio. Not a great batch, but eh, they are OK. Dinner, on the other hand was fab. It's hard to find friends once you are out of college, especially couple friends where both the husbands and the wives get along. So it's always a relief when during dinner the men don't sit quietly and grumble to themselves.
I like the way the texture of this turned out... The bowl itself is just OK. For some reason I haven't been inspired in pottery class lately. Too much gossiping, I guess.
And I would remiss not to mention the fact that it's Super Bowl Sunday. Here is Drew with his Terrible Towels.