What the FRENCH, Toast??

Alright. There's something wrong with people on the freeway. Let me paint a picture for you: I work about 30 miles east of where I live. So in the morning I am driving into the gloriously blinding sunrise, and at the end of the day, into the equally blinding sunset. Now, I know I'm not the only one who notices that when that giant flaming ball is shining through my window and into my retinas it is a little harder to see what's up ahead. So I ask you, what in hell's half acre inspires people to clean their friggin' windshields when they're going 75 mph on the damn freeway, when there is someone right behind them?! They can't seriously think that spraying half a gallon of wiper fluid into the wind is NOT going to land on any other vehicles. And ya know how when you wet your windshield in the sun, it sorta distorts your view for a minute? Well let me tell you, it's 10 times worse when you're not expecting the sudden downpour, especially if you happen to have a little dust on your own windshield.

By now you can guess what happened to me this morning. But it's not just this morning. This happens, I'd say, an average of twice a month, and I've decided to take matters into my own hands. Whenever possible (and it's almost always possible), I pass the offending driver and glance over at them to see if they noticed my subtle hand gestures when I was behind them, indicating an error on their part. I have yet to pass a driver who returns my glance, which I take to mean they either did not notice my gestures, or they did and are now ignoring me. Either way, I feel that their lack of remorse deserves punishment and a lesson! Ha! I then swoop in front of them (always with care, and a turn signal, mind you) and bide my time, keeping up with the flow of traffic so as not to alert the offending driver to my scheme. When the timing is just right, I gingerly squeeze my washer, spraying my windshield for a solid 5 to 7 seconds. Then I laugh maniacally when I see their wipers going again, and even harder when the driver changes lanes to avoid the spray!

Now, one might think that my motives are purely vengeful, but nay! My aim is for the greater good of all drivers. What kind of person would I be if I stayed put after being attacked in such a manner? I would be forced to clean my own windshield of course, and that would inconvenience the innocent driver behind me. That's not right, is it? The only fair thing to do if I am forced to clean my windshield, is to make sure that the ONLY person who is inconvenienced is the person who inconvenienced me. And hey, if they happen to learn their lesson in the process, that benefits everyone.


Still No Bun in my Oven

Well today brings to a close month 8 of our fruitless attempts at babymaking. I knew last night that Aunt Flo would be here today and for the first time in months I didn't cry. Oh I came close, and I pouted a lot, by nary a tear fell. Which I like to think is progress. It helps that my hubs has this steadily sanguine attitude, that when I whine about wanting a baby he simply says, "I want one too." And when in my pessimism I tell Atticus (our cat) that if I don't have a baby we're getting another kitten and then he'll be second banana, the hubs goes a step further to say we'll also travel, have nice things, and keep our bodies looking hot longer. All while gently encouraging me to believe it will happen someday.

I think something else has helped me too - I've been spending the last couple weeks trying to be more positive. Not telling myself "this is gonna be the month" or anything (that would really set me up for disappointment), but rather thinking (and sometimes saying aloud) that my body is healthy, my organs aren't malfunctioning or broken, and that I can get pregnant. Being constantly pessimistic was really starting to bring me down, ya know? This morning I read someone's comment that if you stress over trying to get pregnant, your body will protect you from the added stress of actually getting pregnant and keep it from happening. I don't know whether that's true, but I like it. And it kind of hit home for me.

Anyway, onward and upward into next month!



I love my house. It is tiny and adorable - it's just 5 rooms and 875 square feet of 1950's charm with hardwood floors and a big backyard. It wasn't quite as adorable when we bought it a few months ago, however. The wood floors had been mistreated and were badly in need of sanding and refinishing (which we did ourselves), every wall was dirty eggshell white (which we cleaned, sanded and repainted ourselves), and the bathroom was a nightmare. We gutted that sucker the day after we closed escrow and owe its current glory (and it is glorious) to the hubs' dad, brother and 2 freelance tile guys. It took about 6 weeks to make the house liveable, but in the process I did manage to lose about 10 pounds, so not a bad deal all things considered!

There are some people, however, who don't think my house is as cute as I do, and they aren't shy about expressing that opinion. I don't understand this kind of person. Who walks into someone's house (the first house they've ever owned) and says things like, "Well you certainly have your work cut out for you" or "It looks a lot better than the last time I was here"? The kind of person who doesn't get invited to the housewarming party, that's who.

Luckily, I'm the sort of gal who takes life's lemons and makes lemonade. Yep. I'm using those comments as a catalyst to turn myself into a more assertive person. So the next time someone makes a rude comment about my tiny house, my plans for reproduction, or my iffy cooking skills, I'll smile sweetly and retort with a backhanded remark about their weight or female pattern baldness. :)



I once read that getting pregnant is the single most unoriginal thing a woman could do. Of course that's true, but it doesn't stop millions of women from wanting it every day. And it doesn't stop me from wanting to get pregnant either. I strive for the unimaginative, what can I say?

In the 6 or so months that the hubs and I have been trying, I've gotten really good at making myself think I could be pregnant because I have indigestion, or my boobs hurt, or I have cramps, I'm moody, I'm breaking out, bloated, tired, hungry, thirsty, dizzy, gassy, have a funny taste in my mouth, am peeing more often than usual, more sensitive to odors... And then each month I am devastated to discover that I am, in fact, still unfruitful. I now believe that most women who claim it was these signs that proved to them they were pregnant were just hyperanalytical about their bodily changes while trying to conceive, and probably always had the same symptoms every month right before they started their periods, they just never paid close enough attention before to realize it.

At any rate, I am vowing to stop analyzing every feeling I have, mostly because it's driving me banana frickin sandwich trying to figure out if my right boob hurts more on the side or on the top, and what that means is going on in my uterus. I wouldn't be surprised if it was driving the hubs crazy either... But being a woman, I am naturally prone to being overly analytical, so this should prove to be a big challenge. Let's see how long it lasts.