Pay no attention to the girl in the corner..

It's just me, rocking back and forth in the darkest corner of the room. If you casually saunter near me, you might hear the soft whimpering of a girl whose world ceases to make sense. Blue is green and dogs are cats. The sky is down and the ground is up. Birds swim and fish fly.

Because I just learned that Jesse James of Monster Garage is dating ---and possibly engaged to--- Sandra Bullock.

I am so confused. *sob*


In OTHER NEWS....

My hysteroexcavation exploration mission is scheduled for next Friday at 1pm EST. It will be performed under local anesthesia, which scares the ebbahluvin'bejeezum out of me. I had this LOOOOCAL anesthesia once, when I had my 2nd endo biopsy, and they claim will "kill the pain".. Ya know what? The sonaavamuthah HURT. It hurt to administer it, it hurt after it was administered... it HURT. No help, thank you anyhow. Maybe I will just get steaming drunk first.

IF they find anything, then I have the Cute Ute surgery.

Am I angry? Yes. Why you ask?

Because I want this OVER WITH NOW NOW NOWNOWNOWNOWNOWNOWNOWNOW!!!



...and did I mention it would hurt?

A week to go...

The clock is ticking. I am halfway through the 2-week wait. The 2ww of a different kind--the kind that has you actually looking forward to seeing spotting. Who'dathunk that existed?

Day 3 of upcoming cycle will be the day. The day the nurse-like vampires draw more of my blood from my puny arm and ship it off to the mad scientist in Memphis. He will determine if my blood has resident assassins who stake out and kill my young, a la Terminator. Maybe it is a robot conspiracy. Maybe thirty years into the future, my child leads a resistance against the machines, so they sent back microscopic robots to destroy my children...

Ah, but I digress...

So I get my blood sucked out of my veins in a week. But I also get the hysteroexcavation. They go in with the cameras and the cutterage tools and they look for batboy or the yeti or whatever they expect to find in there. I just hope Dr. Frenchie isn't a wisecracker and starts yelling out "Echo" just to hear the reverberations. I'd be really mad if he did that. Smarty pants doctor.

What I expect them to find is a tangled mess and a note pinned to my lining that says "SOS". I expect to come out of my drug-induced glaze to hear them say, "Procedure was a success. Wait ___ month(s) and then try again. You will be successful. The robots have been neutralized," or something along those lines. That would be neato.

Did I mention I tend to ramble on about robots when I am really, really nervous and really terrified?

Quiztime!!! (Update with ANSWERS)

*nickleodeon music playing*

Test your Ollie knowledge...

My absolute favorite song is...
a) Oops, I Did it Again by Britney Spears
b) Brandy, You're a Fine Girl by Looking Glass
c) Your Body Is a Wonderland by John Mayer
d) Kashmir by Led Zeppelin
e) Friends in Low Places by Garth Brooks

I love this song. Very, very much. And as for John Mayer, I can't tolerate the dude, or his listmate Garth. Kashmir would have been the correct answer when I was in high school and a die-hard Zep fan. Britney... well, she's Britney, isn't she?

The phobia that I do NOT experience is...
a) Acrophobia (fear of heights)
b) Mysophobia (fear of contamination by dirt or germs)
c) Gephyrophobia (fear of bridges)
d) Cynophobia (fear of dogs)
e) Aviophobia (fear of flying)

I LOVE doggies!! I just don't have any at the moment. The rest of the phobias I have in bundles.

My shoe of choice is...
a) Capezio slippers
b) Ferragamo open-toed sandals
c) Converse tennis shoes
d) Doc Martens low-top boots
e) Cheap flip-flops

50 pairs over the last ten years.

I am NOT allergic to...
a) Dogs
b) Cats
c) Caffeine
d) Opiates
e) Dust mites

But I have five cats... and sneeze all the time.

I have never had a rockstar crush on...
a) Tommy Shaw (Styx)
b) Mark Wahlberg (Marky Mark)
c) Dave Grohl (Foo Fighters)
d) Robin Zander (Cheap Trick)
e) Thom Yorke (Radiohead)

Marky Mark looks too much like my brother and that's just gross. I gotta ask though... What's the deal with all the Zander Haters? He's hot! I still have a crush on him...

My favorite color is...
a) Burnt Orange
b) Olive Green
c) Bright Yellow
d) Navy Blue
e) Maroon

Olivia Drab ring any bells? Olive. Olivia. And to the Grail reference, what is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?

My least favorite color is...
a) Burnt Orange
b) Olive Green
c) Bright Yellow
d) Navy Blue
e) Maroon

Yellow. Briiiiiiight yellow. And I am surrounded by it (my house is this color.)

How'd everyone do? Even Brad missed one I see...

Recipe Time with your host, Ollie Drab

Hey ladies and gentlemen!!! You know what time it is? That's right!! It is RECIPE TIME!!

*applause*

Today is a special fertility concoction that is superduperifically guaranteed to turn that frown upside down and toast your belly with a precious baby fresh from the cabbage patch!

Humdinger Fertility Soup

2 medium-sized potatoes
1 small bag baby carrots
1/2 cup freshly squeezed pineapple juice
1 cup pineapple freshly smuggled from a small, opressed island country in the Caribbean
1 junior-sized bag fresh Baby Dust
1 medium Baby Dust Fairy
1 tbsp Paprika
1 tsp salt

Gently boil Baby Dust Fairy in large pot or Dutch oven until screaming stops. Reduce heat and simmer until meat is tender. Add bag of baby carrots. Cut potatoes into 1" square chunks, add to pot. Stir soup to saturate all potatoes. Simmer for 1 hour, until vegetables are soft. Add pineapple, pineapple juice and spices. Cover pot and cook on low heat for another 30 minutes.

Serves 2.

Wine recommendation: Serves well with a fruity Beaujolais or a Chardonnay for the white wine lovers.

Cycle of Confusion

This month is bizarro. I gave up BCPs because they turned me into Robobitch, so we have been using all the tricks of the trade to PREVENT pregnancy until I can be hysteroexcavated.

I've had cramps off and on since my last cycle left. I am on cd 16 and although my temps haven't gone up at all, the girls are KILLING me. They are like two angry swarms of bees on my chest. I doubt I am in luteal phase, and even if I am, what's going on with the previously clockwork temps? Also, I still have ovulation pain in my right side, not bad, just dull and constant. IS IT ovulation pain? Perhaps something more sinister?

Urrgh...

I hate female body parts. When do I get my robot body? Really. I wanna know.

Another Rock Loss

R.I.P. Johnny Ramone (1948-2004)



LOS ANGELES — Johnny Ramone -- guitarist and co-founder of "The Ramones" -- has died.

He was 55. His publicist says he died in his sleep Wednesday afternoon at his Los Angeles home surrounded by friends and family. He had battled prostate cancer for five years.

He co-founded "The Ramones" in 1974 with Joey Ramone, DeeDee Ramone and Tommy Ramone, the only surviving member of the original band.



*sob*

Oh the fun...

SO here are a few tidbits from my realm the last week.

I have a tentative hysteroscopy scheduled for two weeks from now, depending on when this cycle ends. On that day, I will be explored like a cavern full of spelunkers. Hopefully there will be remediable answers discovered therein. I am expecting two revelations:

1. Fibroids
2. Septum

And I expect these two revelations to be followed with "..and we fixed them." Dare I hope?

Another event is more sick kitty stuff. My baby Nixon got very sick this week, a fever of 104.5. We took her to the vet. They ran tests, administered antibiotics, and then told us that our little baby kitty is diabetic. So she is going to have a massive lifestyle change from here on out. I am so sad. My poor little girlie.

And that brings us up to date.

My 33rd Cycle

How interesting. The month I turn 33 coincides with our 33rd cycle since we began that cheeky little acronyn, TTC (it's actually nearing anacronym status, because to be honest, I am forgetting what those letters actually stand for.. trying... to?... ummm.. sorry, nope, the C means nothing to me. C... cope? cooperate? copulate? conjugate?)

So I stopped BCPs (another acronym/anacronym conversion) on August 31. My moods sucked, no one liked the BCP Me. I am a happier, less moody, less volatile human these days.

B-B-But....

I am also eyeing the OPK's and the BBT (more acronyms)...

I may get pregnant, which means I could suffer a nearly immediate pregnancy loss as a result.

Here's the equation:

x²=me xy=Brad
x²+xy=pregnancy
If x=0 or y=0, pregnancy=pregnancy loss
x=0 and y=0, so
x²+xy=pregnancy
0²+0=me crying in the shower stall

So far, x and y always =0 and I've never had my body prove that theorem false. But the sado-masochistic part of my brain can't seem to help it. It's pathetic. I should be happy knowing I am not about to suffer the intense emotional trauma of an embryo without hope.

I haven't even had my explorative hysteroscopy yet. I must resist. Right?

The Wheel in the Sky Keeps on Turnin'...

And so Father Time takes out his annual carving knife and forges yet another notch into my account.

Today, the ovaries and I are 33.

Happy birthday to me! You are all invited for SUPER CLEAR cake and beer.

Labor Day

So what does a recurrent miscarrier do on her Labor Day holiday?

Hair dye and a Dutch beer, of course!



UPDATE:

I am one saucy redhead.

"Do you have kids?"

It is the question we've all been asked at one time or another. Tiffanni was the latest recipient. It brings up a conundrum of emotions and internal battles--do I spill the beans, or do I be polite and take their presumptuous "advice"?

Ever read Mad Magazine? Ya know the section "Snappy Answers to Stupid Questions"? Yeah, well, let's play that game.

Q= Do you have kids?

A= Why, do you know where I could buy some?
A= Sorry, we are sold out.
A= Nope. Your turn--Do you have genital warts?
A= Yes--they are watching you right now.
A= Hmm. Do monkeys count?
A= George says we're not allowed to talk about them in public.
A= Real or imagined?
A= Tell me more, earthling, about these... "kids"...
A= Yes, 157 of them!!
A= Ewwww, sex is dirty!
A= I donated my uterus to science.
A= *hysterical laughter*
A= No, but I bet you're going to tell me how I SHOULD!
A= Yep, just threw a litter last week--wanna buy one?
A= There was that one.. but they told me it was an alien, so they took it away.
A= I was born without genitalia--wanna see?
A= Thank you so much for asking!!!! *walk away*

The Coup

They thought they could control her. Sunday through Sunday, 28-day cycle. That's the rule, right? Do not stray from the rule. The rule is branded onto the ironic pink pack in heavy black letters. Control is the name of the game. They thought, "This lady is a sucker. She will keep going as long as we tell her to."

That's what they thought. They were wrong.

Her last pill, Tuesday night. Her body had its orders. A wink. A nod. Whispers in the shadows said, "Coup".

The Natural Hormone Liberation Army checked and rechecked their weaponry. A loaded handgun taped to the back. A razor-sharp diving boot knife tucked into a hidden holster. They dressed in camouflage. Today would be the day. It would be no easy task. The Pills had been in tyrannical power for some time. Time enough to royally screw things up.

General Estradiol was asleep when the NHLA infiltrated the brain. The temperature began to drop, waking him from a dream about a roller coaster. The General flew out of bed and called for backup to his chamber, but it was too late. NHLA had already taken control of the Cerebral Cortex. The emotions were trapped in a makeshift prison cell. Operation Pissy-No-More was well under way.

Estradiol called the remaining officers and they set forth to defend the uterus and ovaries, their only remaining ground. They would fight to the death.

It was a two-day march from the command center to the battlegrounds. Their scheduled visit wasn't for another four days, he hoped that they were prepared enough to defend camp this early. The NHLA was hot on their trail. General Estradiol knew the Cramp Brigade would be waiting for them at Checkpoint. If they could only make it by sunrise.

What the General didn't know was that spy assassins were hiding within the ranks. It never mattered how fast they traveled, defeat was imminent.

The bloody battle began on Friday morning, five days earlier than scheduled. The spy assassins revealed themselves and joined the battle. They were heavily armed with Naproxen Grenades. The Cramp Brigade didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell. The stronger forces were rounded up by an allies of the NHLA, the White Russians.

The battle would wage for days. But the NHLA had won. General Estradiol was defeated. All that remained was the restoration.

What I am doing right now...

I am having a plate full of post-emotional-breakdown peanut butter & chocolate chip cookies.. and a glass of milk.

In a few minutes, I will go back to bed and hug my box of Kleenex for a while longer.

It's my way of celebrating Wednesday.

Hi-Protein, etc.

NEWSFLASH!!

Hi-protein diets are not necessarily good for the digestive tract.

No shit.

No, really. No shit. Constipation is one of the top complaints caused by ingesting too much protein, not enough carbohydrates. Also, increased acid reflux, heartburn and other maladies. I know from personal experience. Hi-protein/low-carb diets destroys my digestion and converts my body into a vomit machine. GREAT DIET!! But now there is scientific support to my method research.

I became a vegetarian because of Dr. Atkins. In 1995, I attempted his diet. I thought, "Steak and bacon all the time?! Heck yeah!" I lost weight. Ooh yes I did. But I also lost the ability to digest hard proteins. Eat meat--throw it back up. That was the way of the walk. So I cut all meats, including fish and chicken, from my eating regime. I felt GREAT. I stayed that way for a while.

Then my doctor diagnosed me with acid reflux. "This is why you throw up meat." I was given candy-colored medicine and sent on my way. The pills worked. I ate meat again.

But now, I don't want to anymore. The very idea of eating a low-carb meal makes my eyes water and my belly churn. I believe I am on my way back to vegetarianism.. albeit less strictly.

Etc.

My birthday is a scant few days away. I feel my ovaries creaking with the weight. *creeeeeeeeak* 33 years on September 10. One year closer to the Obstetrical change in bio-demographic. As a birthday gift to myself, I am quitting birth control pills. Nice of me, huh? Hopefully it will be nice of me.. very nice. As in "not bitchy anymore."