Today I finally sucked it up and went to get my hair done. The last time I went to a salon was in May, before my sister's wedding. "My girl" left the salon I frequent earlier this year, and I haven't had the heart to try on a new stylist for size (good ones are so hard to find). So, as I sat there and answered the small-talk questions so prevalent amongst the women in the beauty parlor, I tried to oblige this "new girl" as much as possible. The first bit of conversation we had surrounded the topic of why I hadn't been in for (gasp!) six months, and she clucked-clucked her disapproval while examining my damaged split ends and horrendous "roots." Instead of giving her the "real" answers to her questions, I just sort of shrugged and told her I've been busy and looking for a replacement for "my girl" Alayna. No good answer, really. I guess I am just lazy.

But, in my head, my real answer consisted of something resembling the following jumble of words:

"Well, soon after my last hair appointment in May, I got pregnant. And I was trying to stay away from dyeing my hair at that time, like a good pregnant woman should, until I miscarried in July, at which time I entered into a depression so deep that I could barely get myself out of bed in the morning, let alone think about maintaining any sort of hairstyle. After all, what the hell does it matter, in the overall scheme of things? I lost a child, but shoot, nevermind that, I better suck it up and get myself into the salon...a girl's gotta have her priorities? Right. And so, yeah, I'm just now, ya know, sort of getting back on my feet, realizing I have a body, mind, and soul for which only I am responsible. So...uh...yeah. Here I am, six months later. Capeesh?"

Too much? I have to smile to myself as I think of the possible blunt, truthful answer I could've given instead. I mean, what if I would've just spilled all of that out to the poor, unsuspecting, small-talking hairstylist? You have to admit, the look on her face would've been priceless.

I know. I'm so mean.

-Em

Drew here.

So, after a brief try at having a MySpace page, I obliterated it yesterday.  When the magical cancelling script asked me the reason for cancelling my account, I was able to adequately sum it up in one word "annoyed."  It all started when, somehow, my graduating high school class was able to find me (even though most information I put up was inaccurate and I never even put up school information).  It seems they had created an account to try and find people for the reunion this summer...yay (mucho sarcasmo here).  So, being the nice person I am, I accepted their friendship request and was now opened to a whole new world of annoyance.  People messaging me asking which Andrew I was (there were only like 5 or 6 in my class) and others just going straight to friend requests.  I haven't talked to any of these people in 10 years, sometimes longer (I was never a very social person in high school), so why do I want to talk to them now?  Well, I didn't.  I was able to get past most of that by just ignoring them since there were a few non high school people I wanted to talk to (the aubmeister and d-money for example) using this crazy MySpace thing.  However, I finally had to call it quits when I got a message from said high school class account asking me to put up a picture of me or more information about who I am because noone knows which Andrew I was.  I can stand people messaging me and trying to add me as friends or whatever, but when you try to dictate how MYspace should look, I'm going to throw a big FU your way and maybe even moon you.  So, that's what I did.  End of Story.  Thanks for riding the Drew train.

Ha! I laugh at that. Haha! Heh. Hrrrm....

More severe headaches, hot flashes, the WORST BITCHINESS POSSIBLE EVER IN LIFE I'M NOT KIDDING IT'S BAAAAD AND SEEMINGLY UNCONTROLLABLE, depressive lows. Double doses of this devil drug...ugh. Only two more days for this month... I can make it, right?

-Em

To know that I spent the better part of St. Patty's Day making Asian cuisine. That's right, Dad, no soda bread, no boiled dinner. Instead: spring rolls, Thai chicken salad, crab rangoons, fried rice, and egg rolls. My friend from work, Bolay, is a master of this type of cuisine (she herself is from Cambodia), and she had a big group of ladies over on Saturday to perform a cooking demonstration. She's one of those ladies who's finished as quick as you start paying attention (saying, "It's easy; just do this!"), and then you've completely missed what she's done. In years past, she's been the ring-leader for a group of us who have volunteered to cook and serve at the Holland Rescue Mission, and she has a background in catering.

Saturday, however, was unprecedented in that Bolay WROTE THINGS DOWN. That's right: she gave us recipes of all the dishes she demonstrated and got us involved with. And? She went slow (relatively speaking) enough for us to absorb what she was doing. And you know what? She's right. This type of cooking is pretty simple. It's just a change in mindset (and ingredients), but I love that it is fast and without the need to measure (blech, hate measuring, which is why I hate baking).

So, anyway, even though I was wearing green like the good Irish-turned-Dutch-and-Polish girl that I am, I was not partaking in the traditional Irish fare my parents so diligently prepare each year. But...sounds like they had a party that night! 

Yesterday, though still a bit cold, was a beautiful, clear, sunny day, and Drew and I decided to get out of the house for the better part of it, rather than staying home and doing the usual chores. I'll have to catch up on laundry, etc. tonight, but I have to say it was worth it--shirking our responsibilities and going out to play.

In other news, today is my second day of my double-dose Clomid, and so far I am relieved to report the only side-effect seems to be a dull headache. Cross your fingers for us this month and next. We've been researching the "next step" fertility treatments and adoption over the past few weeks, and it has become obvious to us that if Clomid doesn't help this month or next, it will be time to take a break from trying. We will need to save up more money for either more expensive treatments (that seem to provide a minimal ROI) or to begin the adoption tasks. *Sigh*. Having a child is expensive, I've heard, but we're not even expecting yet.

Wishing you all a good week,

-Em

I'm not sure of the culprit, but I seem to be becoming dumber day-by-day. Lack of sleep lately? Too much information to ingest and make sense of? Don't know if it's pinpoint-able to just one thing.

See? Now there's a good example right there. I cannot USE MY WORDS these days. I say a lot of things like "pinpoint-able" or "cheerer-upper." WTF? Why can't I say "easily identified" or "encouraging"? My vocabulary is slowly oozing out of my left ear...

Also, I just got back from lunch with Drew and Becky, and I'm sitting there at the table with my glass of water, all spacing out and feeling very low energy and wondering what I can do about it (sugar soda? OK!) when I suddenly remember: "My pills! I should take them!"

What is wrong with me this week? I have forgotten to take my pills almost every morning. No wonder why I'm on the verge of hypoglycemic episodes...and thus unable to formulate a complete sentence with words above a 3rd grade reading level (or not of my own making...cheerer-upper? Really? Can I not do any better than that?).

Bleh.

Anyone got a form-fitting hat I can borrow?

-Em