Because I have nothing better to write about here is a list of crap that I think can go away and be done now.
That Green Day song, 21 Guns. I never really liked it to begin with, because it sounds like, as the Husband put it, “A really bad attempt at trying to sound like the Beatles.” Since it has been stuck in my head for some inexplicable reason for the past several weeks, I am ready for it to never be played again.
The show Dexter. I bitched about this already on my Twitter, but I feel it needs to be added. Everyone ranted and raved about how I just had to watch this edgy series about a serial killer, cause Dude, its so awesome. So, I tried. I did. I got through a season and a half and then I completely forgot about it. A few weeks ago I noticed the new season was out on DVD and for lack of anything productive to do, added it to my Blockbuster list. I got halfway through the first episode before I realized I had never bothered to finish the last season. And 3/4 of the way through, I realized why. The show sucks. Sorry people. But it does. Besides the fact that I still can’t see the main character without picturing him having sex with the guy on Six Feet Under, the characters have absolutely no depth. They try really hard to fake depth, but, honestly, I wouldn’t care if they all died in some freak accident. I don’t like any of them.
In fact, I’d love to see an episode where Dexter gets tangled in the duct tape surrounding one of his victims, and is pulled underwater with them as he pitches them overboard, hitting his head and drowning instantly. That is an episode I would watch.
Ok, maybe that was unnecessary but seriously, I can’t watch it anymore. And I will watch just about anything. Which brings me to:
The Octomom. I know, I, like most people on this planet, thought she was over already. Then they had to drag out the special they aired last week. Up until that point, I had managed to avoid knowing more than just the basics: Single woman, had eight babies, already had six, pissed people off. I really didn’t understand why people gave such a shit, as really, its not their problem, is it? Mind your own business already. And finally it seemed like we were over it. And then here comes this special. So, once again, my lack of anything better to do got the best of me and I TIVO’d it, figuring, if nothing else, I could make snarky comments about it on my blog later.
You know what though? All it left me with was a basic feeling of sadness. And an even stronger urge for people to just be over it already. The woman obviously has enough problems. And people want to blame her and send her hate mail and stuff and drag her every move out into the light of the media. For what? Yep, she made some shitty choices. (So did the anonymous guy who provided the goo for all these children, I might add)
But seriously, most of us have made bad choices in our lives. And most of us have psychological issues we try to make up for as adults. Maybe we weren’t hugged enough as children or something. Whatever. Granted, her mistakes were spectacular, but, really. Get over it. Not our business or place to judge her.
This office being upstairs and my laptop being broken: Over this. Aside from the fact that I now have to waddle up the stairs every 10 minutes to obsessively check my email, twitter, blog and facebook properly, it’s like 900 degrees up here, and I’m having hot flashes and the Husband refuses to buy a box fan for the room, every time I come up here without the phone, without fail, it rings. Every time. And I have some gene that makes it impossible for me to ignore a ringing phone. I just can’t. Nine times out of ten, its a wrong fucking number too. Seriously, I can’t take it anymore.
Also: The carpeting on the stairs is lifting off the risers on 3 steps now and there’s a gate at the bottom and I have this fun mental image where I trip and toboggan face first down the stairs, in to the metal gate, while trying to answer the phone. Also, in this image I am always sweaty and not wearing any underwear, which is how they find me when they come to arrest me for not picking my kid up at school.
Hey, that gives me an idea. I could start a charity. We could raise funds to prevent the horrible, embarrassing maiming of me and my unborn child. We would use those funds to buy me a laptop. Who’s in?
This Pregnancy: I already look, and feel at least 40 weeks pregnant. How is that fair? Also, As I have mentioned before, I am always sweating and hot and out of breath and my hips hurt like hell whenever I walk, or stand up or sit down or, well, move. So I feel like some kind of strange, large, sweaty wild animal that makes odd grunting noises and eats all your pie. Add to that the fact that I can’t do much in the way of coherent thinking, or, you know, walking, and it adds up to me being done.
Oh, and then there’s the strange obsessions that have engulfed me. I am convinced that I am too large, by far and that this means something is wrong. Since I have had 23856 ultrasounds, and they have confirmed that the baby is a normal size, and I do not have an extra seven gallons of amniotic fluid sloshing around in there, I have come to the conclusion that either, the twin turned into a molar pregnancy that just happens to be invisible on every ultrasound, or that the twin is in fact still there, but also, you know, invisible. (Maybe he’s got superpowers. Shut up.)
Yes people, I, rationally, realize that neither scenario is even the least bit likely. That hasn’t stopped me from spending countless hours googling things like “Molar twin pregnancy” and “Hidden twin ultrasound” and “Giant Octopus baby with one testicle”
In my defense, that last one may be true. He kicks me everywhere. All over. All the time. And he has to be secretly a giant, because why else would I be measuring sometimes as much as 10 weeks ahead?
Have I learned anything from all my insane googling? Well, apparently, if I did have a molar in there with him, I’d be oozing things that looked like grapes. (Let me just add that at one point a Dr DID suspect there was a molar twin in there, because he did see THINGS in the other sac that were not there before, but he couldn’t get a clear picture, and when I went two days later for another ultrasound, they did it abdominally and didn’t see anything at all, not even the second sac. There is a reason for my madness.) Also, I learned that people do sometimes have hidden twins that just never show up on the ultrasound, and that sometimes, when they hear a baby with an “irregular” heartbeat, they are really hearing an echo of the other babies heartbeat.
And this did not help my budding psychosis at all, people. At all.
So, I think the only thing that is going to cure me is having this one healthy, bi-pedal, non-octopi-ish baby already. Because in a few more months, who knows what I am going to be thinking?
Wait, I just realized that once I DO have him, I have to start changing diapers again. Scratch that, I’ll keep the crazy fora little longer.