mydarlingcurse.com

so the bitches wisely chose to read Persepolis for March bookclub and it got me to thinking that there are/were a lot of Oscar contenders that were/are novels. so i’ve made a bit of a list to keep my reading focused. granted, i read a lot more that what i let on, since i read 10-12 children’s books a day. the current favorites for boo’s bedtime are Hurly Burly and the Knights and Robert the Rose Horse. but, those don’t count.

so i’ve put together a little list of novels that were Oscar contenders this year.

Persepolis
No Country for Old Men
Into The Wild
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly
Atonement
Oil (There Will Be Blood)

if i’ve missed something, feel free to add it on. Away from Her was based on a short story, but eh, i’d rather read a novel. reviews will come soon. i’ve finished Persepolis and am currently reading No Country for Old Men.

ta-da

being sick whist pregnant CAN be done, but i wouldn’t recommend it. you have all of the standard sick ickiness, like runny nose, coughs, feeling cold while being sweaty, throwing the covers off because it’s 900 degrees all of a sudden, and that cough drop coating that only goes away with a very specific blend of gasoline and toothpaste. the silly part of being pregnant while sick is that your air is now not your own. i have to be able to breathe. i have to be able to breathe well and for long periods or baby gets restless. baby needs me to have oxygen and since i require now twice as much as a non-pregnant, non-sick person, my job is twice as hard.

everything i do makes me light-headed, everything.

i thought i kicked all this back in November, but i guess not. i just hope it doesn’t hang around very long.

so what with all the pre-labor stuff, the experiment got put on hold. things are going well, and my cervix is like fort knox. which is why we’ve had so many problems to begin with, like oh, not getting pregnant for four years.

my doctor checked me out and gave me the a-ok. he wants to see me next week though.

the back pain - thankfully - has also subsided. i’m pretty sure there was some back labor involved with the whole thing, but who knows.

needless to say, i am fine, bunny is fine, hubbin is fine and boo is so-so. we are dealing with some major diaper rash over here. like it’s not just red, it’s hot to the touch and she doesn’t really want to go potty or get her diaper changed. i don’t blame her. as i was washing her face tonight i said, we have to get all those tears off, you had so many tears today.

yeah, she said, i was sad. she’s so affectionate sometimes i want to eat her up.

spent the morning writhing in pre-term labor pain. called hubbin and headed to the hospital. got on the moniters and watched myself having contractions for an hour. they gave me meds, did some tests and sent me home.

feel like i’ve been hit by a bus.

on the plus side, only six more weeks.

over the last few days i’ve had it in my head that whenever i look at the clock, it’s the same time as it was the last time i looked at it yesterday. like for three days in a row, i rolled over in bed and looked at the clock and it was the exact same time as the night before.

so i’ve decided on a little experiment.

starting at midnight tonight i am going to note the time when i look at the clock to see any patterns or whatnot. a few days ago i could have sworn that every time i looked at a clock it was eleven past the hour. how weird is that? so i want to make an official collection of data. very scientific i know, but come on! i AM married to a big dork chemist/scientist, something was bound to rub off.

either i’m right and for whatever reason my circadian rhythm is stuck on a loop, or due to pregnancy the blood flow to my brian is dangerously low.

please note: i will start the experiment tonight at midnight, obviously i am not going to watch the clock and have my first entry be 12:00 or 12:01. that just doesn’t seem natural. i will simply record the first time i look after midnight tonight.

first of all, Rock of Love 2 is just workin’ my shit. i love the Bret’s Mud Bowl episode. to see girls like “Wha? Football, isn’t that like, gross?” and then ten minutes later be like “This is my game and I’m all over these bitches” is beyond ridiculous. secondly, why would anyone pick Daisy? she’s obviously Bret’s fave, why pick her when you know someone has to be left out with no chance of a date? seems to me some of the skanks are not as smart as i maybe hoped i’d imagined them to be. thirdly, no one eliminated? AWESOME! i so want Payton to bring down Megan about the note stuff. Payton would be a BFF in my California world. and finally, Rodeo on the next episode with two of them getting the boot - cool! i just hope she makes more of an appearance than Lacey - cuz that roller derby shit was lame.

then, in speaking with psycho jen today i finally felt connected to another human being. as much as i complain and bitch about the girl, she is my BFF, the closest thing i have to a sister. and she TOTALLY got it when i explained about the zsa zsa zsu being gone with the English Teacher. she has a similar experience with an old flame that she is now good friends with. that feeling of “what did I ever see in this bloke?” is hard enough, but when someone else gets it, it’s awesome. i’ve felt really isolated lately and talking to her this morning just made me feel human and better.

now for the crazy/weird/dream shit. skip this part if you aren’t into bizzaro pregnancy i’ve been off meds too long stuff.

before ROL2 came on, i watched a little bit of Scott Baio is 46 and an Asshole - or whatever that show is. and his GF is preggers and they cart her off to the hospital and she’s in labor and isn’t dialating and has to have a c-section. and watching this puts me into a huge panic/anxiety attack. like, that’s kinda what happened to me last time, and i’m already freaked out about this time, and i was practically in tears. thankfully, JCSG was online and i chatted with her until i calmed down and hubbin came up with laundry. but this incident seemed to start an unholy chain of events that i never really shook off until around nine this morning. i talked to hubbin a little bit about it, and natch he said, not to worry. which didn’t help.

then i had a really hard time getting comfortable and falling asleep. i updated my iPod and watched a few episodes of Extras, but it was after two before i settled down. then boo comes in around 3:30 and i’m up again with fake contractions until almost five. and it was in that short blip of sleep that i had a horrible dream. i dreamt that the baby, bunny, was deformed with a grotesque mouth with beaver teeth and i had it nurse it - while still in my body - through a weird mouth hole in my foot. which means i had to get my foot up to my boob and watch this beaver-baby mouth emerge from my foot and bite and suck and nurse and i was just mortified. i woke up more panicked and freaked out, if that was possible.

now i’m on little sleep, tending a rowdy two-year old, because she slept fine!, and nervous and anxious. and guess what? it’s all normal. it’s normal to feel this way. and i have such a hard time wrapping my twisted liquid head around that right now. how CAN this be normal? i NEVER had such horrific dreams with boo. it’s so superstitiously unlucky to give to a baby with teeth - how will i cope? and yeah, i get it! it’s NORMAL. but what do you when normal doesn’t feel remotely right? why doesn’t normal feel comforting? how come i am gaining NO confidence from “normal”?

over the weekend i got a call from my parents’ friendly neighbour Bon-Bon. Bon-Bon was one of my Mom’s caregivers and because she only lives like six doors down, she is kind enough to continue to keep an eye on my Dad. Bon-Bon and i have been through similar experiences. her dad died about a year after my mom died, and then her brother died shortly after. she called to tell me that her other brother died suddenly - like alone in his garage apparently of a heart-attack. very similar to my Aunt Jan who died alone in her bedroom two days before christmas from a duodenal ulcer.

then she told me that my dad (who is in Canada ice-fishing this weekend) had a glass guy coming and if he called, could i possibly come over and take care of it, since she didn’t know where or how she’d be. naturally i said i would do whatever i could and what did my dad need a glass guy for?

“Oh, someone tried to break in the other day.”

WHAT?!

my dad never said a THING about it.

Bon-Bon told me that apparently they tried breaking the glass at the backdoor. HOLY CRAP!

i talked to my Dad tonight and guess what? HE WAS HOME WHEN THIS ALL WENT DOWN! never told me about. his version of events is, he was downstairs on the computer and Annie Oakley came over and said “There’s glass everywhere.”

now here is the thing, my Dad’s blind. he has a genetic disease, retinitis pigmentosa, and has been totally blind since the early 90’s. and it’s true what they say, if you lose one sense, all other senses become heightened. my Dad’s hearing is fucking unbelievable. this didn’t serve me well as a bratty teen or know-it-all twentysomething, since he could hear when i was giving him the finger.

so it’s really hard to believe that even though he was downstairs on the computer that he didn’t hear breaking glass. he even marvels at the unlikelihood of him not hearing anything. but he swears he had no idea.

when i talked to him tonight and told him about Bon-Bon and her brother, i asked if the class was fixed and he said, yeah, it was taken care of before he left town. i told him how disappointed i was that he didn’t tell, since, if they tables were turned and someone tried to break-in while i was home, he’d probably want to know. i don’t want him to feel like he’s a simple, old man, but COME ON! i feel like i have a right to know if someone tried to break-in!

he reassured me that he’s locking and double checking all the doors now and that he’s locking doors even when he’s home. he’s going to start using the alarm more and blah blah blah. but still, he’s my dad. and i worry.

ok, since i was like fourteen, i’ve been in love with my old high school English teacher. this isn’t news to anyone who knows me, and it certainly isn’t news to him. and for the last oh, i don’t know, twenty years we’ve stayed in touch and gotten together and hung out and it’s been great. deep down he’s a great guy, even if he is a lawyer and probably the most inconsiderate wag that walked the earth. girls always carry a torch for the one that treats them like crap. why? i dunno, but ask any chick and she’ll tell ya.

and he constantly pulls the same crap. he blows into town, says he’ll call, calls at the last minute, i drop everything to go, and then we hang for like 20 minutes and he has to leave. it’s totally ridiculous. any every time, every single fucking time i fall for it.

and today i fell for it, fell for it like a stone.

on the plus side, while i was sitting there visiting, i wasn’t giddy. and that’s the first time that’s happened. i didn’t feel like a sixteen year old with a crush. i felt like a thritysomething pregnant goofball hanging out with one of her geek friends. cuz that’s all it is.

while i’m bummed that some of the magic and dazzle has worn off, and after twenty years what doesn’t lose it’s charm - except maybe Mr. Bret Michaels, i’m relieved that i don’t feel like such a dork anymore.

as tradition dictates, we went to Leaning Tower last night. i was glad to see so many families there and lots of cute kids in pink and red.

as we were finishing up a guy at the table next to us tells his GF to stand up, and he starts talking about Valentine’s Day and etc. then he gets down on one knee, produces a black velvet box and asks her to marry him. it was the most adorable, lovely thing i’ve seen since the birth of my daughter.

of course her BF starts screaming and she’s crying and people are clapping, and i turn to hubbin and said “Are they for real”? and then i wanted to kick myself for being so bitter and jaded. like of course it’s a joke, no one would just pop the question over beer and pizza at Leaning Tower. WRONG! so very, very wrong. Wrong with a capital R.

so cupid’s little love dust did rub off on me, and i was flooded with memories of my own engagement and how happy i’ve been married to hubbin. then i congratulated the hell out of the happy couple and took at look at the ring (small, marquis cut) and the bride-to-be’s BF told me that the happy couple met at the Tower a year and a half ago. how sweet!