Paint chips

Not long ago, my best friend and I picked out paint chips. Although this was nearly a month ago, we have not painted one iota of our house since then. While my friend has nearly impeccable taste, I fear that my laziness probably out does even her good taste. I have forgotten many of her best recommendations, and the tape holding each one to the wall is started to fall off. The kitchen will be the first victim, I fear. There are some truly horrendous shades combinations of blue and orange, which eventually we will come to a concensus upon, and then promptly paint in the most frightening color combination in existence. I'm sure of it. Which is, of course, why we have not yet painted the kitchen.

The real purpose behind picking paint colors was self indulgence. Here, I can indulge in my childish dreams of babies in the house, giggling and running, up and down the hallway. We indulged in pinks, and greens, and yellows. I will build my baby a little playhouse, perhaps from http://knockoffwood.blogspot.com/ . While this might be dreadfully, terribly sad, this dream is far bigger than even my wedding day could have been. I dreamed of a having a baby in my arms since the first time I read a gut-wrenching story of a premie baby who almost didn't make it from Reader's Digest when I was twelve years old. Is that weird? I don't care; I've waited until I am quite a respectable age. My own mother even implied, not long ago, that I was "old" for having babies. Come now! If bloody Jennifer Lopez can have TWINS at 38, then I can certainly have a baby. I'm not even 32!

So, blog world, I'm picking colors for the nursery. I'm not buying anything, not to worry. I wouldn't want to jinx my future eggs or anything.

Saving the trees.

It's been a fascinating day. Yesterday I was so ill I just lay on the couch and practiced my moaning skills. So pitiful was I, in fact, that I could not pick up my brand new Kindle to read. (An item I have been coveting for over a year.)

Shall I tell you about the Kindle? I love it. I love that I can read all these books, many of them for free, and not have to worry about hunting it down, or lugging out boxes to find them, or the space it'll take up. We already have eleventy billion books, and about forty bookshelves to hold them, so I'll take it. We have so many bookshelves, in fact, that the books are actually piling themselves out onto the floor in protest. There are boxes of books, also, and books that keep inexplicably showing up in the mail like lost friends. "Oh hai. We're your old childhood books. We found you! hahahaha!" Mocking me.

Therefore, the Kindle is lovely. They mock me from a list, rather than in piles on my floor. I can take the list mocking. They do mock me, friends. Because the one draw back to my new toy is that I have so many books, I don't feel the need to finish the current one. Very often I will skip from book to book, and forget I had the other one to read, except for the nagging little voices, reminding me that I am, in fact, not finishing my books. Oh, the horror! I will be poorly educated if I don't finish my books! Oh, wait. Yeah, I have a Master's degree. But! unfinished books! But...BUT UNFINISHED BOOKS.

So yes, I do keep going back and reading a few pages of A Confederacy of Dunces out of simple guilt - I don't really like it - but by God, I will read it!

A further caveat to the joys of the Kindle is the fact that it cost so damn much. So much, in fact, that I coveted for over two years without buying it, and hid it from my poor husband for over a week after I did buy it. I would have hid it for longer, but he caught me trying to plug it in. Oh, the horror of spending $300 for an item that holds books! As if I don't have far more than 30 books in there already, and I didn't pay no damn $10 a piece for them, but I digress. Think of all the space I'm saving! And trees!

Why.

The true reason why we have not had children, even though we are fast approaching 31 and 35: my husband has cleidocranial dysplasia. This is a dominant bone disorder that can cause severe difficulties in any person that has it. My husband himself has gone through nearly a dozen surgeries and the accompanying pain, near death experiences and physical therapy. He has a "mild" case.

While I did not live through any of his pain (he had all of his surgeries, with an exception of two that are yet to come before we met) neither of us wants to see our children go through what he has gone through.

We both want children. We both know that's the last missing piece of our happy little lives, and I feel the pain particularly.

Thank goodness, there are options. There are also drawbacks to each option. Having examined them all, I feel such resentment sometimes toward those who can just have sex for a while and *boop* there's a pregnant woman!

Right now, finally, we have agreed that we can explore these options together. We have the money, to support and care for a child without struggling, which is what we wanted most.

Now. Shall we have donors? Shall we do Preimplantation Genetic Diagnosis (PGD)? Should we adopt and risk a mother wanting to take the baby back?
We just don't know yet.

I think I have to be barking mad

to be an interesting blogger. Like, read dooce.com, or thebloggess. They're awesome. They're funny. They're fucking crazy. Especially the bloggess, but I just want to be her more. And I will always be me, the white bread vanilla chick who likes to go to dragoncon. Did I mention we're going to Dragoncon? Did I mention that i want to bring a baby dressed as Spock someday? Especially since Leonard Nimoy is going to be there? Oh, wouldn't it be fab. He totally would not be impressed, but that wouldn't make it any less fun, now, would it?

Saving Money

Make your own laundry detergent! This is the super cheapest thing on earth, and I'm actually pretty excited about it. My only fear is that my husband is going to look at me like I'm crazy.

Here's the blog post where it shows the guy saving over $50 on laundry detergent from The Simple Dollar.com:
http://www.thesimpledollar.com/2008/04/09/making-your-own-laundry-detergent-a-detailed-visual-guide/

Think I'll go eat worms

Remember that song? "Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, I think I'll go eat worms!" I was feeling this way to the point that I was digging in the backyard this morning, when suddenly the sky opened up, the angels sang, and I finally learned the rest of the Hallelujah chorus. I got a job! I got a job teaching! I got a job teaching college students! Isn't it funny how you think it's the end of the world when you get fired/laid off from a job, and something better usually comes along? I'm seriously ready to get out my magic want and turn into a giant bouncy ball, and act out that bouncy ball commercial myself!



Maybe now we'll be able to have babies! This certainly takes up less time than my old job did (albeit grading papers will take a lot MORE time, but I can do that at home!)

Reject

Dear Mab,

Thank you so much for investigating employment opportunities with S____________. I was most fortunate to have the pleasure of speaking with several highly qualified applicants, including you, which made the selection process very difficult.

We have identified a candidate that matches our qualifications and requirements perfectly and have decided to select that applicant.

Please accept my most sincere thanks and appreciation for your interest in and application for a teaching position. May I wish you every success in your search for employment.

Sincerely,

S

Yes, it's boring. Yes, I'm lucky I got any answer at all. No matter than I held my breath for two weeks over this, that it was the perfect position for me, that I waited, eschewing anything that could put me out of sorts with God for the whole day I was SURE they'd call, refusing to eat meat or any small children in hopes that it would be please Him enough to let me have this job. All in vain.

Dear. wild world. I want to know how I could know so many people, and not know one that would be willing to help me find a job, so we have the money to afford babies? (or to afford getting my husband to agree to let me have a baby?)

And, to add insult to very serious injury, sitting around the house all day with nothing to do is making me get fat. I love Weight Watchers, but all I want to do is watch the TV and the food. It calls to me. It sings to me. It even dances for me a little. I live for coffee, soda, and pizza. And a job. Hellooooo, job world? Any one want a teacher?