Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Commercials that Make Me Scream

There are two commercials that make me want to never buy their products. Actually I will never buy their products, one because I don't have a penis and the other because I don't particularly like the Love's Embrace Collection.

1. Cialis - I have NEVER been doing the dishes, the raking, or the painting and all of sudden bumped into Robby and wanted to do "it." Nor have I ever wanted to soak side by side in an old school bathtub next to Robby in the great outdoors. What does that accomplish? And more importantly why would you waste your "prescription strength getting it on medication" snuggling next to the camp fire and laying in your own tub? I want to scream at these old folks on the TV - that's not what the drug is for! Its not to help you snuggle! But, it does have one redeeming quality: the one where they are raking leaves and they "pitch the tent." Don't think we don't get the symbolism Glaxo-Smith.

2. Kay's Jewelry - There is one in particular Kay's commercial that I hate. The one where the couple is at their cabin and they've "never seen a storm quite like this" and the stupid broad jumps and turns in terror at the fake rain and thunder. I mean its not like they are going through Katrina - its a little fake thunderstorm for crying out loud. And then Extremely Creepy Guy just happens to have that necklace in his hand and says "I'll never let go." Wow this isn't the Titanic and you sure aren't Leo so it just comes across as being weird and a little stalkerish, but maybe its just me.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

The Glowing Pregnant Woman

I have heard the rumors and the myths. I have seen the serene women of movie all pregnant and beautiful. I have decided its all a bunch of crap. The only reason pregnant women "glow" is because every ounce of oil that was ever in their bodies has congregated onto their face to create the perfect storm - a zit zone to rival that of a pubescent boy with a face washing aversion. I look like the proverbial pepproni pizza (hmm, pizza...how long until I can reasonably eat my next meal?).

If that wasn't bad enough I have also discovered that I have crossed over the line from "mildly annoyed most of the time" to "I am a raving lunatic that will likely kill you if you close the cabinet door wrong." When did this happen and why would this cruel joke begin to unfold so early on? I mean first of all, I can't enjoy any of my past favorite activities, the least of which was a glass of wine at the end of a long day, but now I also can't quit screaming/crying/threatening to cause others serious bodily injury. I just want to be one of those people on the movies who's entire pregnancy lasts like thirty minutes, they are always sooo excited to be pregnant and sooooo beautiful while they are pregnant, and sooooooooo happy to order yet another ice water and even drive everyone home at the end of the night. Who is this woman, and where is she, because I would like to throw a punch at her pretty, zit free face.

Because of my new cynical nature and the fear that Peanut might get the feeling he/she is an inconvenience to me (which he is but I mean its not really his fault) I will force myself to end on a happy note. *Extended pause while I grapple for something*

Got it. I slept for 13 hours last night. And didn't feel the least bit guilty about it. Thanks fetus for giving me the excuse to wallow in bed for hours on end without once ever thinking I should get up and make contact with the outside world.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

News

I decided to start a blog now that I'm "expecting" not so much because anyone cares but because all these folks keep saying oooh keep a pregnancy diary so that you can remember all the details because it will fly by blah blah. As of right now, there isn't much to remember but who I am to go against what all these folks are telling me. I can't even decide if I can eat deli meat so apparently I am no expert on these things. Also, while I doubt many people care I know there are some who might want to join in the progress with me since Rob and I are way up here in God's Country.

So, here goes it - I am eight weeks pregnant as of today. Or at least thats what we think. I thought I was nine weeks pregnant last week but the sonogram lady dashed that and said Peanut was measuring seven weeks. Which really blows because I am effectively reliving the last two weeks. I mean I had already looked at those two weeks on the baby calendar. I want to move past eyelid formation for cying outloud.

By the way, we are refering to the kid as Peanut because I find it offensive to call it "It" or "Embryo" or "Pat" as Robby suggested.

Thus far in this "magical" journey I have made several new best friends and quite a few new worst enemies. First, the friends: the couch, the bed, any other surface that is ripe for taking a nap, and crackers. I don't even care what kind of crackers. I have to eat a cracker every morning before even opening my eyes or the entire morning is spent dry heaving or worse. I now have more cracker crumbs in my bed than dog hair - which is disgusting but what can you do?

My new enemies: my toothbrush - it is a daily battle to get my teeth brushed. The mere idea of sticking that thing into my mouth makes me gag a little. I hope this passes for my dentist's (and husband's) sake. Garbage - we all know garbage stinks but there is now a daily battle over the horrible odors coming from all garbage cans. Urination - TMI I know, but really, could I pee any more times in a single day than I do now. And I hear it gets worse. I had to stop at the gas station on the way home from running an errand the other day. And it only takes ten minutes to get anywhere and home where we live. Pitiful.

But it isn't all bad. I have finally found an excuse for everything in life. I don't want to do laundry, work out, cook dinner, or even wake up - don't think I will, I mean I am pregnant and all. I really want chicken fried rice for lunch and a hamburger for dinner - why not? The doctor said this was no time to start a diet. I told a lady I know the other day in not so many words that I thought she was fairly close to a certifiable lunatic - alas, my emotions are all over the place and I can't help it.

And now, I must find the nearest ladies room. And we all know why.