Baby fever……kind of.

Little Miss Jane is finally here and I cannot wait to meet her and kiss her chubby cheeks and play with her chubby feet and bask in the general glory that is new life.

It has dawned on me that the true heroes in this world are mothers. I know my mom is my hero and a lot of my friends would say the same about their moms. Seriously, you bring a life into this world, love it, take care of it, deal with it being a little asshole….all the while thinking it’s the most perfect thing ever. That is some heroic stuff right there.

For the early part of my life I never doubted I would have kids. At least a couple (only children are weird–I can say that, I’m an only child). After some dubious years in my early twenties, I then started wondering if I really wanted kids. I knew that if I wasn’t sure, I shouldn’t have kids. For the ten years since I decided that it would be ok if I didn’t want kids, I vascilated between never wanting kids and wanting nothing more then kids. Yes, it can be exhausting being me.

After a surgery a few years ago that took an ovary and a fallopian tube, I started facing the fact that having a child might be more difficult (although Jane is proof that one ovary is all you need) and I thought more about whether I wanted to have a baby or be a mother. Most people would think that these things go hand in hand, but I disagree. I don’t think that not actually “birthing” a child makes the act of being a mother any less heroic. Plus, I’m single (oh so single), have that one ovary and know that there are lots of kids out there who just want/need to be loved.

I often feel like I have to much love to give, or not enough people to give it to (again, it’s exhausting being me!) and while no one grows up playing “Adoptive Single Mother House”….the idea keeps churning around my head. I mean, there is no way I would think of adopting a child right now….but perhaps in the not too distant future? I’d like to think that I would be willing to adopt an older child, and maybe I would. But if I had my way, I would get a baby. Some new litle person who I could use to prove that nurture can beat out nature from time to time. A little person who knows me as mom, not because I carried them for 9 months inside of me, but because I love them unconditionally and forever.

Of course, I type all of this while really looking forward to having alcholic beverages on a patio this evening, then sleeping a good portion of tomorrow and taking Noodle to the dog park. What am I thinking? I mean really, what kind of fool am I to think that my selfish lifestyle could go away just because I feel like my life will mean nothing if I’m not a mother?

Have I mentioned it’s exhausting being me?

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Single Girl’s Guide to Moving

I just moved into a new apartment. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, gated community, super close to my favorite grocery store. All good things. However, I still haven’t quite moved completely OUT of my old apartment. I have until midnight tonight to make that break-up final. To take all my stuff, including all my trash, and be done with the place. I suddenly feel like one of those girls who can’t get out of a relationship without being almost in another one.

Here’s the deal with my old place. I’d been there 7 years. For the most part everything was cool. But we were just moving in different places. I was moving to a place in my life that I didn’t want to be packed like a sardine into my home and it was moving into a place where black mold grows.

If you ever want to feel completely alone in the world, move by yourself. Make sure you’ve lived in your place for awhile, have animals who like to place things under furniture and have a tendency to keep stuff longer then you should. In order to get the full effect and complete alone experience, have lots of random things that can’t really be boxed up and make sure to live on at least the second floor and move to a new place that is also at least on the second floor. OOOO…having a small car helps too.

Once you get the keys to the new place, bring over fun things, like clothes and such. Carefully consider the order of the new closets and take lots of time to place things just so. Only put a little bit of stuff in your car at a time so you can drive back and forth as much as possible, while fooling yourself that you are accomplishing things. Go ahead, take a nap.

Make sure that whatever outfit you choose to move in makes you feel especially unattractive and then work up a good sweat. i also suggest being in dire need of a root touch up and a bang trim so you have more hair ornaments keeping things “in place” then a Eastern European gymnast.

Pack your boxes as heavy as possible. Once you’ve lost the packing tape for the fifteenth time, start putting heavy things in trash bags. Then sort of drag the trash bags a bit so they start to fall apart as you put them in the car. Make mental notes of the things you need at Target, and then quckly forget it. Make at LEAST 4 trips to Target and spend as much of your hard earned money as possible at each trip.

Once the movers come…..oh yes, you HAVE to hire movers,with no upper body strength and a 99 Saturn Coupe, there ain’t no way that big fluffy red chair will make it to the new place.  Once the movers come, make sure you remember that you have a bunch of stuff in two closets. Fool yourself into thinking that it’s not much stuff and will be like one trip. Start to realize that your attachment to things lessens when you start to think about taking it up the stairs at your new place and finding a new place to stash it for another 7 years. The movers will be super sweet….awww, poor girl ain’t gots no man to help her move….and will move your stuff faster then any group of friends could think of doing, and they don’t complain to your face.  During this portion of the move, you will feel good about things. Try to remember that feeling later when you are sitting in the shambles of your former home disgusted at the dust bunnies and unidentifiable stains that have been hidden by the furniture for lord knows how long. Recall it also when you wish your dog could be trusted to run down to Lowes and get a new vent for the dryer so you could at least finish drying the clothes that are in the dryer….sorry Wade the mover, glad you’re so strong!

Go grab some lunch on the way back to the old place. Make sure you’ve been eating fast food for the past few days so you can push your body physically while giving it the worst fuel possible. Sit on the floor of your old living room and hold back the tears at the amount of crap that is still left to deal with. Realize that there is no one to call to get help from. Curse yourself and your chronic procrastination. Go into the closet and wonder if there is really any reason to hold onto the prom dress your mom sewed for you or your grandparents china.

Take a few bags of trash down to the dumpster. Wish that instead of watching 5 hours of America’s Next Top Model, you had gone out Saturday night and found some nice, strong boy who would love to carry heavy things and take trash out in return for sexual favors. Must be clean, cute is optional. 

Make sure to have an appointment on your moving day for something completely unrelated, say taking your dog to the vet for shots. Once you have cleared whatever momentum you had going, make sure to add as many expenses to the trip as possible. Extra heartworm pills and flea treatment….bring it on. You’re already hemorrhaging money at this point, what’s a couple hundred more dollars.

Work yourself to supreme exhaustion. To where you are driving in the turn lane for a couple of miles before you notice. Don’t take pain pills until day 3….then curse yourself for not working out more (i.e. at all)

Figure out a way to postpone the final cleaning of your apartment and go to your new place. Bask in the glory of being alone. All alone. Alone in that big apartment with a big new bed that you will also sleep alone in (save your pets, who are apt to be pissing you off at this point because they are stressed and you find yourself actually saying to them “what the fuck do YOU have to be stressed about?!?”) Take a bath and shave your legs above the knee for no one.  Figure out how to hook up your DVD player and watch a couple of hours of Sex and the City. Make sure to watch the season where Carrie has no man and such. Season 5 I believe it is. It’s all about confusing messages from males and such….good times! Go to bed, exhausted and already anticipating the pain of the next day and trying to divise a way to just leave your old place as is without going broke with “cleaning charges.”  Snuggle up to your dog and convince yourself that even though he can’t carry anything, or help pack or clean and has out of nowhere shit on the floor of your new place, you really LOVE being single.

A Brief Accounting

Here is a brief list of my faults, issues, and confessions. There is no way in the universe that I would ever be able to list all of them, but here are the ones that seem to be causing me the most trauma lately.

  • I fear commitment
  • I fear being lonely
  • I like the wrong boys for the wrong reasons
  • I have big pores
  • I have a tendency to want people to like me so much that I don’t actually let them get to know the “real” me
  • I feel too much
  • I think too much
  • I eat chips and dip for breakfast sometimes
  • I don’t always brush my teeth twice a day
  • I wear my contacts for days on end when I am not supposed to
  • I love my pets too much
  • I REALLY love my dog too much
  • I’m self-centered
  • I can be self-destructive
  • I take insults well
  • I take compliments horribly
  • I don’t speak up for injustice because I still believe that people are doing the best they can with the information they have at the time
  • I have no tolerance for stupidity
  • When people say “Do what?” instead of “pardon me” “what was that?” or even “huh?” I want to scream
  • I bite my fingernails
  • I don’t like to clean my kitchen
  • I rarely put away my laundry
  • My good intentions outnumber my good deeds exponentially
  • I expect return phone calls
  • I have no problem sleeping with someone on the first date
  • I have dozens of pairs of shoes and handbags
  • There are 5 handbags in my possession that I have never used
  • I let my dog kiss me on the mouth (mouth closed!)
  • I’m easily entertained
  • I’m easily discouraged
  • I start lots of things that I never finish
  • I get ridiculously happy in the presence of musicians
  • I fear clowns, little people and lawn work
  • I put on a brave face when I want to cry
  • I spent so much of my life trying to not talk too loud that I now get accused of talking too softly
  • I sleep in my clothes more often then anyone with an actual home and actual pajamas should
  • I still believe in fairytales
  • If it wouldn’t make me sick I would only eat appetizers and desserts and only drink Tropicana Light Lemonade or Vodka Tonics
  • I like to get drunk….even if I sometimes fall down
  • I have a list of boys that I want to “lick from head to toe”–it’s a VERY short list and easier to get off then get on
  • I have a freakishly short tongue
  • Sometimes I would rather sit at home alone on Saturday night then go out with actual people
  • If I stay at home alone on Saturday night instead of going out with actual people, I will be pissed at myself about it on Sunday
  • I still draw on myself from time to time, but now I call it “tattoo research”
  • I want better cleavage
  • I rarely make my bed
  • I can’t find the right lipstick color
  • I need something to wear to the agency anniversary party
  • I’m more excited about the open bar at the anniversary party than Ricky Skaggs performing
  • I need a date to the anniversary party—ok, I don’t NEED one, I want one, one particular one.
  • I obsess over boys
  • I quote song lyrics a LOT!
  • I have an oral fixation
  • I want to go canoeing again, with pretty much the same exact people and a whole bucket full of new knowledge
  • I need new panties
  • I have bouts of insomnia and bouts of “whatever you call it when all you do is sleep, but not because you are depressed or physically exhausted”
  • I’m not participating in “Hands on Nashville Day” because I don’t want to be too tired to raise hell with my buddies Reckless Kelly that night
  • I still haven’t finished Harry Potter book 4 and it’s making me want to abandon the series all together
  • I’m tired of listing my faults

The 7 Deadly Sins of Canoeing

sub title: How I Spent My Saturday

Some friends and I went canoeing on the Harpeth River this weekend. It was about 100 degrees outside, the sun was shining very brightly and the majority of us had never done this before. We were pumped. Well, we were hot, and running late and verging on grumpy….but we were pumped too. One would think that a day on the river would be a lovely experience where all things done would be for the good, not the bad. Well, stick with my friends and I and we’ll show you how you can commit each of the Seven Deadly Sins in a 24 hour period.

Pride: We were so proud that we didn’t fall into the water trying to get into the canoe from the ramp, like others in our group had. We were proud of how well we were working together, even though only one of us had ever canoed before and it was on a pond. We were proud of only running into the bank a couple of times. We were proud that we were in the lead for a good portion of the day and there wasn’t a penis in our boat. We were proud that we hadn’t turned over at all….until we got some “help” from a couple of the fellas and got dumped out in one quick move.

Greed: Our greed came right along with our pride. We felt as though we had some of the most talent on the river for awhile. We hogged the coolness of our group. We held on to all the beauty of the group. We had the only camera and the only bottles of water….although beer was a more coveted beverage.

Envy: The lovely ladies that I was sharing a canoe with and myself were envious of anyone who didn’t have to walk their canoes in knee deep water for nearly a mile due to the canoe being nearly completely filled with water. We were envious of everyone who could actually turn a canoe full of water over to empty it and then bring it back upright. We were envious of people who didn’t fall out of the canoe more times then we kept track of.

Rage: Pretty quickly into the walking portion of our canoeing trip, rage set in. We were completely pissed that no one had waited for us to make sure we were ok. We were so angry that there was no one would could dump our boat over to get the water out. I was angry at my lack of physical strength and the speed at which I was fading in energy. We were enraged at not having any drinking water. We were enraged at the redneck boys who floated by and just grinned. We were, in general, enraged.

Lust: Well, if I’m around, lust is always a factor. I don’t actually like this term in regards to this part of the trip, but it’ll work. Without there being any sexual aspect to this, we were lusting after the two fine fellas who actually had waited for us, a LONG way down the river. These lovely gentlemen paddled upriver a good quarter mile and saved us. They dumped our boat out, they split up so we would have someone with us who had upper body strength and they never once made fun of us, to our faces, about the predicament.

Gluttony: What do you do after a canoeing trip that had left you battered and bruised and physically exhausted? You go out to dinner, then go to a bar and stay there until it closes of course. You drink copious amounts of alcohol, have conversations that leave your stomach hurting and gasping for air from laughing so much. You enjoy the best things there are in life, which are friends who can see you sweaty and covered in river water and angry from head to toe…and still enjoy your company. If this type of gluttony is wrong, I don’t want to be right.

Sloth: I cannot speak for anyone else that went canoeing yesterday, but today I have done nothing. I have bruises on my legs that give me a new sympathy for Nancy Kerrigan. I have a bruise on the top of my foot that is a total mystery. I have bruises on the arches of my feet from the rocks that got caught in my shoes. I have strained thigh muscles from a “graceful” exit of the canoe which resulted in me doing the splits. All of these things have me walking a little slower then normal and taking more naps then my cats.

So there you have it!

  • 1 canoe trip
  • 10 people
  • 4 canoes
  • 3 angry girls
  • dozens of bruises
  • dozens of drinks
  • 7 deadly sins
  • 1 twenty four hour period

Impressive–no?!

New Obsession

Ok–so my new obsession is a boy–no really. But he has some sub-obsessions that come along with him (don’t they all!). Through my obsessing over him, I have been introduced to this. It feeds my love for creative people, cuteness, t-shirts and control. You can not only buy things, but you get to vote on the the designs to determine what will get printed. Oh–and if you need to kill some time, vote and then read the designer interviews–good stuff.

I am behind the times on this….eh, what’s new. But it’s fun.