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Archive for December, 2006

The Constant Blogger

 I think I’m going to title all of my posts after movies. Not movies I like or movies I’ve seen,  just movies. If you have any suggestions, I will take them. I love to use commas. Have you noticed?

You know, its so cool when you see that some stranger likes your blog enough to link to it and you’re all excited that somebody likes what you write and then you find out it is your very own brother and you think…whatever. I mean, he has to put me on his blogroll or I’ll tell our mom. But go read Agnosco because he’s my brother and I love him!

I’ve been surfing the internet all day, reading dozens of wonderful, witty, hilarious posts trying to churn up even an iota of inspiration that maybe a blog post could grow from and all I got is bupkus. I don’t even have a cat to talk about, and OH MY GOD it is hard to write when your husband is laying next to you farting in a manner that makes you say, “That is not what you do to people, Chad! You do NOT do that!”. I think he’s sick. Sick in some horrible, internal rotting way. That is the only reason for gas like that. I’m going to pioneer internet scratch’n’sniff so that I can share it with all of you. I don’t like to be alone in my pain.

We’ve been rolling right along with the adoption process, in so far as you can roll right along with a process that moves really, very , very slowly. There are lots of decisions to be made, including how to tell all the extended family members. We’re thinking of just sending out a link to this post and letting them make of it what they will. We have told several members on my side of the family and we told one of Chad’s aunts who was very excited and supportive, which was so nice. I don’t expect much in the way of flak from the family but its hard to know when to tell in the adoption process. I’ve been trying to approximate the whole situation to being pregnant and that only works to an extent. In some ways it seems so similar and in other ways its totally different. And there is no consensus on any part of it. Take the matter of the baby shower. Some say that the adoptive baby shower should be held after the child arrives so that you don’t have painful reminders laying around of a baby that you don’t yet have. Others say why the heck would you wait? Do you really want to buy all that baby crap for yourself? I mean, come on, that stuff is expensive and it is your relatives/friends who should buy it. I am inclined to follow the latter perspective. Plus, I think the more parties to help you pass the adoption-waiting time, the better. So start planning parties for me, please.

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Is there a best husband contest? If so I would like to enter Chad. Then I would like to watch as he ruthlessly conquers the competition. My husband (back off ladies!) buys Christmas presents like that is the sole purpose that he was born for. And anniversary and birthday presents too.

We had Christmas a little early at our house, due largely to the fact that Chad could not restrain himself and has been suggesting for the last several days that surely, I must want to open my presents now. And, of course, I really did.

First, he got me everything I asked for. Second, he got me some things that I hadn’t asked for but that he was thoughtful enough to come up with.

And third…third made me cry and cry and cry. He got me a necklace with three diamonds that came with the explanation that if I ever worry that he doesn’t want this adoption as much as I do, or if I ever need to be reassured that we will be a family someday, that I can look at those three stones that represent the two of us and the baby we hope to have and know that what he wants more than anything is to have a family with me. Now I understand why sometimes you cry when you get jewelry.

 I hope I have left you wallowing in a puddle of your own saccharine-emotion induced vomit. I really do.

I got him a bath robe. Which, in all fairness, he really really wanted and wore around the apartment last night doing a really good impression of a guy who wishes he could live in his bath robe all the time. I got him other things as well, very nice things that were thoughtful, but the bath robe was the big hit.

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Apparently Sunday morning is good for news showing you how totally screwed up the world is. This morning I’ve spent time hearing about/web surfing about a pit bull puppy who was found on the southside of the city yesterday, stabbed multiple times and Darfur. Thanks to a passerby who took the puppy to a vet, the puppy is doing well. Darfur, of course, is not.

And all I can think to say is What the Fuck? Rather eloquent, yes?

What do the Darfur militiamen think about when they are storming villages, killing, raping, and destroying? Are they angry? Are they pissed off about something that happened to them? Is it just part of their lives, a job that they are getting paid to do? Is it the hope that if they follow the instructions of a government that wants them to kill others, that they might protect them and help them live a better life? What is it – what allows a person to destroy strangers and their homes day after day after day? I mean, its gotta be something important to these people because violent sociopaths just aren’t common enough to comprise Darfur’s entire militia.

 I don’t know. This post isn’t the most coherent piece of writing ever but I’m all cried out and I just wanted to share.

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The laziness has taken ahold of me. I finished my last class of the semester on Saturday and as a free woman, have decided to do…well, not much at all. Ever again. I played a video game – Dreamfall: Longest Journey which was very nice but surprisingly short. Its a very beautiful game with a developed story and I think I was supposed to take my time and not try to run through it at break neck speed, but that’s how I play the game, yo. Also, everyone dies at the end. No matter what you do. Which can be a bit frustrating when you’ve been trying so hard to keep them alive the whole time.

But I just wanted to stop in and say hey, internet. I think about you guys but right now I need some ‘me’ time. Some time to unwind. Some time to think about the fact that Chad and I have decided we are going to say screw you to trying to have our own baby and go straight to adoption. That’s right, internet. We may have no proof of infertility but we’ve decided this is the choice for us. The choice does lead to a lot of silly conversations like can we request the most flatulence-gifted child in order to help them fit into our home? This child’s future father has gas that can kill. We just want the kid to have a fighting chance.

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The Future is Nigh

I just saw a commercial for Grease: You’re the One that I Want where we, the viewing public, will help to decide who plays the lead in the next Broadway production of Grease.

I see the future and in the future we will no longer go on job interviews. We will no longer apply to colleges with regular old applications. We will no longer do anything as non-viewer interactive as going to the local polling station to vote for a president.

Everything will be decided by reality tv competition shows.

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A Woman, Shellshocked

Nicole Paultre, the wife to be of Sean Bell appeared on Larry King Live and all I can say is so cliche – my heart breaks for her. She is quite composed but her soft voice and occasional ability to go seemingly minutes without blinking just makes you think that this woman is not really there right now. While I’m not one to pray, I do wish her all the strength to get through one more day.

If you want to see what she has to say along with Rev. Sharpton, the following link will take you to the clip.

http://www.cnn.com/video/partners/clickability/index.html?url=/video/bestoftv/2006/12/05/lkl.daily.nicole.paultre.and.rev.al.sharpton.cnn

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Music Makes the World Go Round

Before I was married and I was still trying to find my one true love, I had this theory that if I could just find someone who loved Paul Simon as much as I do, then I would have found somebody special and that they could be The One. As you can imagine, finding someone who loves Paul Simon is not a difficult thing to do. It was actually quite easy and not a single one of these people were in any way The One, even if I’d had a lot to drink. I had to revise my theory. I decided that instead of searching for the obvious, I would look for something a little more discerning and try to find a guy who loved Queen as much as I did. Now, I don’t lu-hu-hu-huv Queen, but I like them more than most, so I figured this was a pretty good bar to set.

Thus it was with no little heart-skipping that I walked into Chad’s apartment for the first time and saw AN ENTIRE SHELF OF QUEEN CONCERT DVDS. Talk about a lightning bolt. I remember being so awe-struck that I had to hold myself back from proposing to him right there and then.

The funny thing is, totally unbeknownst to me, Chad was conducting his own little true-love music test. See, Chad loves Aimee Mann. He lu-hu-hu-hu-hu-huvs her. He loves Aimee Mann solo, he loves Aimee Mann ‘Til Tuesday, he loves Aimee Mann with heavy eye makeup and crazy 80’s punk hair. So when I walked into his apartment that very first time and freaked because he had highly visible evidence of Queen, he was freaking out because I started to sing along with the Aimee Mann concert video that he had playing in the background. In that one single instance, we fell deeply and musically in love with eachother.

And the kicker: After moving in together we were talking about this and all sorts of things were reavealed. First, I don’t know a whole lot about Aimee Mann. It was dumb luck that she was singing a song from the Magnolia soundtrack, which I had been exposed to entirely thanks to someone else and was the only Aimee Mann album that I owned. But my “Oh sure, I love Aimee Mann” was a lot more convincing since I could sing the song. And those Queen concert dvds? Weren’t Chad’s. They belonged to his roommate, Brendan.

Even though we’d both had these ideas that The One would like the same things we liked and it turned out that we weren’t quite as into each other’s music as we’d led the other one to believe, I don’t think this diminishes the story at all. Really, even though I’d only known Chad for a week at that point, if he’d opened his apartment door wearing Civil War garb I probably would’ve declared him The One based on my heretofore undiscovered love of Civil War reenacting.

We moved in together super quick. And we got married after only a year of dating. But at least once every day I think about how freaking lucky I am and how even if we’d gotten married after only a week of knowing eachother, Chad is the best mistake I could ever, ever make.

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