Unrelated Side Note

I had a really nice run with my friend Stacey this morning. We ran for about 35 minutes, not counting the two minutes when I stopped to pee, and we chatted the entire time. You know, from the minute we got into the car until I drove away to leave. It was awesome.

This afternoon, Matt and I rode the Beemer up to Newcastle, DE. In case you are wondering, it was 187 miles round trip and I feel like someone spanked my ass with a hairbrush. Matt called me a trooper. I just grunted.

It wasn’t too bad heading north on 95, and after we dropped off a small moving light to be fitted for a road case, we went to the farmer’s market, where Matt and I shared and elephant ear. It was ridiculously good, and we fought over it like children. Then we found a stand selling chocolate covered bacon so we were like, “Why not?” My initial reaction was GROSS, but then I found myself glad I didn’t remain at the stand to eat it and thus end up buying 10 more pieces.

The ride home was hell. Traffic was moving so slow we had to pull off into some shade so we could drink water and cool off. Of course, that only made matters worse because EVERYONE was looking over at us and I could see people mouthing, “What’s going on over there?”

So, now we are home with the cats and not going anywhere for the rest of the evening. Matt is working ALL DAY tomorrow, so I’ll start moving things down to the first floor.

I can’t see me loving nobody but YOU for all my life!

This is what I think when I take a moment every now and then to consider our decision not to have children because the topic is coming up more and more these days, not between us but between me and everyone else. Believe me, I’m not the one bringing it up:

• You’ve been married for a year and a half now, buying a new house, eh? Thinking about starting a family?
• What do you mean you’ve been married for over a year and haven’t thought about starting a family?
• You’re not going to have a family? Oh, you’ll regret that.

No, I won’t regret it. I don’t regret things, especially when I already have them. Matt and I started a family the minute we were pronounced husband and wife. We are a family of two and we are HAPPY. Do you hear me, world? WEEEEEEEEEE ARRRRRRRRE HA-HA-HA-HA PP-PP-PP-PP YY-YY-YY-YY. Damn, I wish this blog had a real resounding echo effect.

We love each other deeply, openly, truly, and honestly. We love our lifestyle. We love our three cats. We love our endless talks into the night. We love looking into our future and seeing US growing old together, and I don’t think these things makes us selfish. I think it makes us self aware. We know who we are, and what’s wrong with that?

I’m often asked, “But don’t you want to make a little you and Matt? Don’t you think it would be amazing to create a child?”

I pause, think about what our offspring would be like, laugh internally, and often reply with, “I think it’s amazing when I create something delicious to eat from scratch.”

We all define “bun in the oven” in our own way. It just comes down to that. The desire to have a child doesn’t lie within me. I have TRIED to feel it. I have TRIED to want it. I have had LENGTHY discussions with my ovaries about their uncooperative behavior and asked them, “Why am I not like other women?” Then, I finally just accepted that this is who I am. I am NOT like other women. Never have been. I’ve always walked my own line, which is a big part of the reason why Matt chose me to be his wife. Enough said.

Matt and I had a nice, rainy, drive home from Pittsburgh last night. We got home in just under four hours with Matt driving the entire way and me thrashing about and moaning and bitching in the passenger seat. I loathe being a passenger for extended periods of time. LOATHE. IT, but it was for the best and I know this and I appreciate that Matt drove even though he is not a good long distance driver. Criminy. But more on that at another time.

We didn’t encounter much traffic, which was great given the miles and miles of construction on the PA turnpike, which would have been hell to drive through during the day with traffic and the heat and the sun and the bright. My eyes! They burn!!! In fact, the only real traffic we encountered was truck after truck after truck. I don’t mind trucks (tractor trailers to you non-Mid-Atlantic types). Truck drivers actually follow the rules of the road, especially the DON’T JUST SIT IN THE LEFT LANE YOU ROLLING-ROADBLOCK ASS rule.

We got home pretty late and hit the bed hard. Me, gassing and moaning away as the cats piled on top of me not understanding why I didn’t want to play, play, play! Matt mumbling something about breakfast. Sheesh, the man hadn’t even fallen asleep yet.

I woke up this morning with a raging headache and feeling a bit nauseated so I drank a glass of water and went on about my business at a snail’s pace. No, I’m not pregnant, please stop asking and implying. Thank you.

I got through my morning okay, called my GP and made an appointment but he can’t see me until tomorrow. Not even for a hospital follow up? Ugh. After moping about the house all “bugger this” and “bugger that,” I decided to drive out to my friends house for a game of Scrabble. She stomped me. The score is so embarrassing, I can’t even begin to talk about it. Okay, it was 364 to 169. I’ve never been so embarrassed but if you had EIEIO in your letter tray three times in one game, you’d have a crappy score too.

After the game, we went out to sit by her pool for a while. That did seem to help, a little fresh air and some sunshine. Well, we were in the shade, futzing with her iPad and looking up dirty words on dictionary.com, pressing the PLAY button and giggling when we heard them out loud. Oh, by the way, she’s 45 and I’ll be 33 this weekend. In case you didn’t know that we were full-grown women over here. Tee hee!

Oh, they have chickens now. Free-range chickens. Yes. I know people who have chickens. Strange little creatures. Friendly, and they poop a lot. One clucked at me and dropped a little bird poop when I opened the sliding door to the patio and startled her. I’m not sure I’m a fan just yet.

This evening I found myself absolutely ravenous, so I ate little bits and pieces of this and that and am not having too much trouble save some restlessness and mild abdominal gurgling. I spent the better part of the evening on the couch watching the final two episodes of Monarch of the Glen, series 6. I’m completely obsessed. It’s an issue I’ll work on after I get through series 7, which is the final series. I won’t have much choice but to let it go after that, will I?

So, feeling a touch better but curious to see what tomorrow morning will bring.

I’ve been ill and out of town. Ill like visit-to-the-emergency-room ill. Two liters of IV fluids and two days of nausea and anti-diarrhea medication ILL. Food-born ill, the worst kind of ill. It’s been a rough few days to say the least but I’m on the mend thank goodness!

We took the plunge and drove up to Pittsburgh on Saturday afternoon to visit friends since I was feeling mostly well enough to travel and didn’t want to miss seeing a dear friend of mine who would be in the area from L.A.. I didn’t eat much (watermelon and a few saltines), sipped on water for the whole ride, had a little dinner when we arrived (veggie burger on a toasted bun and some watermelon), then felt so good I decided we should all go out for ice cream.

That ended badly. Oh, why didn’t I believe my doctor when she said not to eat fatty foods for a couple of days? Ice cream and I never got along well to begin with but … I won’t go into details except to say it left me in a state for the rest of the night/most of the next day. I hung in like a trooper though but have stuck to the BRAT diet until dinner tonight when I managed to eat a very small slice of pizza and a little salad, oh, and a small piece of surprise birthday cake. My tummy is a little rumbly, but nothing I can’t handle.

I’m really grateful to have such wonderful friends who took such good care of me and were patient with me through it all.

My favorite, actually. I prefer them more than a week-long vacation. You get a sense of summer without the hassle of packing and unpacking a bag. Parties, chores, outdoors, all of it gets done and I feel quite satisfied when I return to work on Tuesday. So, our weekend.

Friday night: We went to a friends’ house and had a roaring good time. I walked in the door with a half-full beer in one hand, an empty bottle in the other and bellowed, “Let’s get pissed!” The response to this, “Were you drinking in the car on the ride up?” “Matt drove, and he’s got the rest of the beer.”

Saturday: Woke up with a bit of a hangover when the phone rang early for a house showing. We went to Double T for breakfast. That place is a rip off but they make a good/huge mushroom and swiss omelette with taters and toast. This meal was promptly followed by a nap. A long nap. We I finally came around, we headed out to a cookout and I promptly took another nap in a hammock before helping to set up a 100-ft. slip and slide, made from Lowe’s house wrap, complete with ramp and inflatable pool. Good times, no booze for me. Following said cookout, I came home and went promptly to bed.

Sunday: Cleaning, cookout, Harbor fireworks from Matt’s cousin’s rooftop. We pretty much had a front row view and the company was grand. We hung out for an hour, waiting for traffic on Key Highway to die down before I decided I was tired and we should just lane split and go home. So we did, and it was awesome. Lots of hamburgers on Sunday. Good times, no booze.

Today: Woke up, ate breakfast, had a magnificent and sweaty workout, then hit up the grocery store for vitals. I made shrimp salad sandwiches, corn on the cob, and margaritas for lunch. Matt is taking a nap, and I’m prepping dinner: White pizza, Caesar salad, and a bottle of Black Cuillin. It’s been a lazy day, and we’re contemplating where to go on the motorcycle this evening. An enjoyable Monday following a hectic, fun-filled weekend.

Matt was in a car accident today, said the airbags deployed and the dust was terrible. His face didn’t hit his bag, thank god, because the seats were all yo’d out. He banged his left shin up pretty bad and jammed his right pinky somehow. Poor Matt. He wasn’t driving, one of his employees was and was not using the three-second rule so he rear-ended someone at a stoplight as he was gunning for the yellow while the guy in front of him was stopping.

Shit happens, but I hate when this kind of shit happens. Matt said it was awful being a passenger and watching it happen, having no control and knowing there was nothing he could do about it so he just screamed, “Brakes! Brakes, not gas!”

He said the part that made him the most nervous was when his employee and the other guy were standing between the two cars while traffic was still cruising by. He told me he coaxed/begged them to move to the side of the road, citing our friend Michele’s terrible accident last January; she got pinned between two cabs in New York and almost lost a leg and her life. Her doctors were amazing and put her back together again. She’s bionic. But not everyone is lucky like Michele, if you can call that kind of accident and rehab luck. She still struggles with pain but she is alive. I’ll thank God again here.

So, let that be a lesson to FOLLOW THE FUCKING THREE-SECOND RULE. Oh, and please don’t walk or stand between cars. Ever. Seriously. Unless you have absolutely no other options, even then, look up and down the row as far as you can and proceed with caution. Teach this to your children as well.