So, I had two horrible dreams that I had the baby, delivered it, and did not document the process along the way. I didn’t write about it, I didn’t take pictures (our camera was broken), and after the baby was here I couldn’t even fully remember the birth – which only The Boy and I (and some doctors) attended. It was a horrible dream.
I intend to rectify the situation now.
Not with pictures of me…our camera actually is broken, but simply with documentation of what’s going on right now. I’m thinking of writing a letter to the baby – however, given how I’m feeling right now, the baby (Old Bean), might not appreciate having such a letter written.
Yeah. That would be a horrible thing to read on your 18th. "Dear Bean…you make me sick…I’m not even sure I like you yet. Really." Because, in actuality, as I near the close of the first trimester, Old Bean has been making me sick. Granted, weeks 10-12 were the worst of the entire pregnancy. Although, the statement about not liking Bean yet…well that’s not quite true. Not after I got to my first ultrasound, and the little peanut shaped thing had a heartbeat. A visible heartbeat. I was shocked that at nine weeks not only could I see the ultrasound and tell that it was a human bean (or "being"), but that it also had a heartbeat. A real beating heart. Pumping blood. Miraculous. And at the second ultrasound (after my first doctor’s bounced me because they don’t deal with high-risk patients…) at the hospital, my heart melted to see little arms and little legs sticking up.
Everyone asks me if I’m excited. "Well…*barf*…maybe?" Is my most honest answer. Because honestly, I like my life as it is. I like living with my hubs. I like going to sleep at 9. I like traveling when I feel like it. I like going to the beach and hanging with my friends and sitting in hot tubs until
three am (Oh, let’s be honest, Licia…you can’t stay up that late) eleven pm. Not only that, but honesty, I’m scared out of my mind! I’ve never done this before, my body is freaking out, and I’m worried that I won’t be ready in time – for any of it! Moreover, not having felt a kick or actually heard the baby’s heartbeat, I can only have faith that going through all of this is going to lead to a bundle of joy. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not dreading this baby, I’m not angry that I’m pregnant, and I’m not resentful – I’m just not sure how I feel yet. I mean, definitely happy and nervous and excited, but also scared and anxious and occasionally, when I want to drink a beer and can’t, a little miffed. :-p
And now, I need to get off the compy and into some clothes, it’s time for the North Carolina Comic Con! Let’s go set up some booths and get selling some comics!
Oh, and PS, the dreads, which I have ceased taking monthly pictures of, are now 17 months old.
syaldia is always taking fun quizzes in her spare, I mean work, time. So I thought I would do much the same while waiting to go on my grand NASA adventure.
The results were funny. Especially as I’m going to be a teacher.
So I thought I’d post them as well.
school prepares you for the real world which also
“What’s the title?”
“The Day After Yesterday”
“Oh…you mean today?” — Maya and Miles in “Sideways”
Not that I like the movie…just that I think that’s an interesting title. And it makes me wonder how many other perfectly ordinary things I can unnecessarily describe. But, I digress.
The real reason I’m writing in my journal is to announce that I have FINISHED THE GRE!
Took that sucker yesterday, and did relatively well, I think. I was proud of myself, at any rate, and I’m hoping that it’s enough to secure that I don’t have to take it again. Not ever, no never.
So I went shopping with the roommate, since we were near the mall anyway (gasp! shock! horror!), and then I went out last night to celebrate with Alex (the boy, not the girl). While we were on our way to Goldie’s we saw a friend, Mac, chillin’ out in Linda’s. We went in all excited and stuff, because Mac is leaving us for ever on Monday – heading to Hawaii to become part of the 5-0 *cue the Hawaii 5-0 theme music* and this would probably be our last time to see him. Turned out that Mac was hanging out with a lot of people I know. black_daisaku, girlfriend Rachel, and all their friends who I met at one of Julius’s parties.
So that was fun.
And I saw Jenn Kling.
And The Boy’s un-current girlfriend (is “un-current” a good enough unnecessary description? Since I’m trying to throw those in…)
It was kind of funny, because the conversation went like this:
Jenn: “Oh! You should come downstairs! There’s a whole group of us! Brian, Heather…”
“Yeah…I don’t think that everyone downstairs would be as excited for me to join you as you are. I mean, I don’t think Heather would really enjoy that, you know?”
“Oh my GOD! I totally forgot! No more shots!”
And then she gave me a big hug, because well…that’s what people who drink shots do. :-p
After that Alex and I left, and we went back to his place where he played some of the new songs he learned, and we talked about life, and love, and music…and it was great, we had a good time just hanging out. He drove me home, because I was in no condition to drive (Somehow, I bought not one bit of alcohol last night, but my cup did runneth over with Red Oak. It just magically, with the help of Mac, kept refilling itself).
That was fun.
But, I must keep my eye on the bigger picture – that promises to be like, just the most fun ever!
Going out of town for Thanksgiving, whoo-hoo!, and there’s only like, 37 days left!
‘Tis the end of chapter one, the chapter that began a little before exams started… I mean, there was a prolouge, alot of backstory before that, but this story didn’t really get started until then. The first words of the chapter were: “Yeah…we’re over” and the last words of this chapter were “I love you, too.” It was an eventful chapter.
This past week, the last few pages, has been one of the greatest weeks ever.
Jeremy came back for a visit (I guess he’s not “The Boy” anymore, I think he’s outgrown that title). It seems like only yesterday I was counting down the hours and minutes until his arrival, and I was overjoyed at seeing him drive up to Peabody. Then I was opening the door to my room to find a beautiful bouquet of roses on my bed – one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me. That was Tuesday.
Wednesday consisted of going to class, and spending the rest of the day hanging out. I think I’m really going to like my language classes for this semester. In Swahili class, the professor exhorted us to go to gathering knowledge “as a soldier goes to war with his gun”. It was a very powerful and moving lecture. Later, in Spanish class, the professor told us, in Spanglish and with a beautiful Cuban accent, that class is “like poetry, a metaphor.” Class is a poem, and each of the students are important verses in this poem, and being late means that the poem is broken and the poem cannot be read as it should be. Several people arrived after he made his poem metaphor. (I’m sorry to note that this verse broke the poem on Friday, but it shan’t happen again.)
Thursday was going to work, going to class, going to work, talking to my brother for his birthday, hanging out with Jeremy at He’s Not Here and drinking the equivalent of five and a half bottles of beer. Well, to be honest, I spilt quite a bit of the last half a bottle…probably the whole last bit of the half bottle, but I still have my blue cup to show for it. Then there was eating french fries at Miami Subs, stumbling home jovially talking with a numb tounge about life, love, relationships and how “I’m not as drunk as you think I *hic* am!”.
Friday was me cramping all over the place, the culmination of a about a week of feeling like an emotional wreck, and skipping classes (only two) for that day. I spent it napping with Jeremy, sweet. Friday evening was visiting my family with Jeremy. Firday night was working, hanging out with friends at Cosmic and then in Shadowwood, and finding the funniest transvestite in the world Eddie Izzard.
Saturday was working, and then going to Applebee’s with Jeremy. I had a Bahama Mama, it was okay – not all that I’ve heard it was. He bougt flowers for my roommates and I, I got my favorite – gladiolas. Later, we watched Alfred Hitchcock’s “Strangers on a Train” and compared music on my computer. Then there was bowling (I won two out of three games, even though I only won by a total of four points whereas he beat me by a total of twenty…so I guess he won), seeing “Red Eye” – which turned out to be a totally awesome Alfred Hitchcock-esque film (I wonder if stupid Ross would say “Hitchcockian” in this case), and then going to Diane, Kamala, and Rachna’s house-warming party. Later that night, we tried to watch Rebecca. I fell asleep because as much as I love Alfred Hitchcock, films with Laurence Olivier always seem to bore me out of my skull. This victorian film took about two hours to get to the good part – way too long for about fifteen minutes of mystery solving and firey endings.
Sunday, and he’s just left. We woke up, he got dressed, and then prepared to leave. There was a bit of kissing, a promise of a phone call once he arrived safely at home, and me walking him out to the car. And it all ended with him standing in front of his car, wrapping an arm around my waist, looking me deep in my eyes and whispering, “I love you, baby” and kissing me softly. “I love you, too,” I whisper back, looking at the beautiful blue sky and fluffy clouds floating behind his head, blinking back tears with all my might. By the way, looking towards the bright light of the sun doesn’t help with blinking back tears… At any rate, I do a good job of it; I didn’t cry until his car pulled out of the lot and I had my back turned to the road – AND I didn’t even cry for very long. Just a few short tears, and me consoling myself with the fact that he is coming back after all, he does love me, and he knows I love him – the thing I had been torturing myself with all summer: Does he love me, does he know that I love him? I want him to know, but I don’t want to scare him…when will be the right time to say it? Well, it’s over. The chapter has come to a conclusion. He does love me, he knows that I love him, it’s been said, and even though it probably wasn’t said at the right times, it got said.
A couple of nights ago, I looked up at the stars and saw that Orion had returned to the sky. Yes, Summer is definitely over.