I hate that it seems like she settled for Peeta, when he really is incredible. And I know she knew she could never deserve him — but really, she couldn’t, so why couldn’t he have found someone else? Is it really the answer that he loves her so much, he just wants her to be happy, and if it’s with him, then fantastic?  But that seems wrong to me somehow, even though I’m sure that’s the pure basis of love.

But come on, then there’s Gale.  She and he and soo much in common, and it’s clear to me they were destined for each other. Or perhaps not, and the sad tragedies of their fathers’ deaths was the foundation of their bond — but that’s crap, because there’s something about being so in tune with another person, you can wordlessly hang out in each other’s company, follow their lead, take the lead, and just relax and let go — isn’t that love?  Why are these two types of loves so different, and exist in different people? And I know Peeta offered Kitness a comfort she couldn’t find elsewhere — also because of horror, though, this time found in the Hunger Games? And why did he have a crush on her all those years? That I understand more– sometimes you just do.

But really — Gale was only alive outdoors, like Katniss — and now he’s at a desk job in District 2? Doesn’t that scream unhappiness, and perhaps self-inflicted punishment?  I mean okay, he was extreme in his pursuit of taking down the Capitol, and harbored much anger, and possibly his bomb? may have killed her sister.  And that was tragic, too.  Too much tragedy, bah, was that really unnecessary? When those ucky creatures had literally destroyed the “mission” team except for just the 5 that remained? 

And *why* was Peeta tortured so, that’s just so sick and awful. And Finnick had already known that his love was being subjected to the same horrors, just to get to him and Kitness. And then they have a baby, but Finnick is torn apart by mutts???! BOOO.  To me, that was akin to both Tonks + Remus dying in HP, sooo unnecessarily.  Really, does grief have to run this deep?

I still am unhappy with this choice, of Peeta to return to Katniss (though of course he has to, he’s so pure — but gosh, he still has nightmares, they can’t fix that?? Or hers?) and of Gale who exiled himself to District 2. Can’t we know more about him, and his life now? Even if it’s miserable, although of course I’d like to hear he’s happy too.  But even when Katniss is discussing her kids (which I totally understand reservations), she still doesn’t sound happy.  Why can’t they be happy? I know, I’m such a simpleton, BUT I LIKE HAPPY ENDINGS WHERE PEOPLE WE LOVE DON’T DIE.  I mean, not like these loved ones did. Or okay, maybe not so many.

Gah. I don’t know why it hurts so much, I know these people are fictional, and I want a better ending than this. Maybe the bottom line is I don’t like war, I don’t like these complicated love triangles (which I believe was written before Twilight, but overheard convo between the two suitors? boo, but totally good, I get it).  Most of all, I don’t like these people being hurt, because it doesn’t seem like there’s winners. I’m glad the romance didn’t seem to get too played up so as to be completely strung along (unlike Twilight, yikes I hate to compare, but jeebus that was painful in a different way, and also completely unsatisfactory ending).

Okay. Maybe I can move past this fiction-induced depression + grieving business. Even though Gale is so real in my head, and Peeta kinda, even though his love is totally real.  Katniss, not so much the bonding, although I agree I fell for her in the moments similarly named when the group is trying to figure out her strengths, and someone names, for example, her singing to Rue.

Prim was … just too wise beyond her years, I should have seen her eventual death coming (which the hubs spoiled for me anyway, but still, I was more dead to it than I expected) — but gosh, dying pure? Kat’s sacrifices almost all for nothing? And boo for voting to continue the Hunger games on the Capitol children, btw.  Glad those didn’t continue after all.  Hopefully I can re-read this series soon. And seriously, hope this fog lifts, this is nuts.

But more importantly, I just realized that I’ve been stuck in basically a black hole for the past few months (for sure the summer; I’m going to go on a limb and say January, since I was in the hospital or on bedrest for half the month) AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT’S IN FASHION.  I thought that when I went out last night and was trying to find alternatives for the shower + shoot, that maybe all the stores shifted to fall, and that’s why none of these summery dresses were out on display.  BUT I THINK IT’S ACTUALLY BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S COOL.  Yikes, um, hip? How about “in,” is that the right word?  Bah.

And… kinda a bust today, as far as 30×30 goes.  Hey, I turned down a muffin, how is that? And… crap, I ate half a bag of Voila (shared the rest with the hubs). But I hydrated like crazy! Well, mostly at dinner, to combat the mango margarita (STRONG!), and to compensate for the massage. hmm.  Maybe tomorrow…? Except erm there’s the aforementioned 2 showers.  Maybe some walking, sure… There’ll definitely be walking to one of the showers! And I grocery shopped for 1.5 hours! Or maybe just one. But I ALSO stood and made sandwiches for an hour, and did some baking earlier.  That’s good calorie burning….

but oh well.  that’s me. post-baby, who came so early, and that me from almost-a-year-ago, I can’t even recognize. I haven’t been working since probably mid-January. I mean, I was at work from March to May, but not really, and it was so easy, my boss is incredible. And now I’m on leave until October. When I turn 30. Awesome.

So, I’m still going to try for it here.  30 goals? Hmm, we’ll see. But definitely aiming for 30 lbs. by 30 — which is exactly 2 months from today, and it’s 11:18pm.  But I’ll figure this out, I sure hope.
Something about burning 1000 calories a day — 500 from cut-out calories, and 500 from actual exercise. But is that so awful? Yikes, I bet it is.

Goals in the next 2 months:

1. Knock out the nursery
2. Knock out the box of papers in the laundry room
3. Organize the laundry room
4. Drop off clothes to be donated, after figuring out what should go
5. Clear out all the junk we don’t need or use
6. Hang drapes in the bedroom
7. Clear our the nightstands; donate the magazines
8. Clean out the trunk of my car; wipe down the interior
9. Get fit: lose 30 lbs, 3-4 lbs. each week
10. Baby book or NICU photo book

Hmm, good house goals, right?  Maybe I can work on personal goals, too.

1. Go back to church, and figure out how to squeeze that in.
2. Read Hunger Games series.
3. Renew my library card so I can check out the electronic books.
4. Submit one piece of fiction somewhere.

And I saw the faint outline of a plus. Like, super dark down the middle vertically, and a faint horizontal line.  And then there was that damn other window, and that only had one line. And I kind of freaked, yeah.

So I asked my hubs who was packing downstairs for the Big Game Weekend if he could wait a minute before leaving for work. And he said yeah, and came upstairs.  Where he said I greeted him with, what I think he calls, The Muppet Look.  And he knew.

Well, I didn’t know he knew — so we held hands. um bc I was scared.  And then we walked the teeny distance to the bathroom, which is where I told him I cheated and took a peek, and was kinda freaked bc the plus was sort of showing up, but then the teeny window threw me off.

And he looked at it too, and was like, “Hmm, yeah.. did you read the instructions?” And I had, and looked at it again — yup, that damn baby window was the control, and there were 3 pics that showed examples of YES! PREGNANT!  and even those were shitty — like this uber faint faint line, both directions. At least I had one Strong one — and that was the one that wasn’t even supposed to be there, if it was a No.

So. When we agreed that must be what it means, I was happy…. and lots lots scared.  I wasn’t sad, I wasn’t bummed, I wasn’t relieved, I wasn’t anything I thought I’d be, particularly because … well, here’s the clarification.

So, all my life, I’d said I wasn’t having kids.  I just knew.  90% because of my mom — either because I didn’t want her around my children, or because I knew I’d be just like her, because I am, and I wasn’t having anyone else go through the hell I went through. I mean, now I know there are different levels of hell, and mine was probably minor, but still.

And then… the fallout with my parents happened. And my sister told me I was nuts not to have kids because of my mom, bc eventually she’s going to pass away (I know, we’re a morbid sort here), and I shouldn’t prevent myself (and the hubs) from enjoying progeny because of one person.

And so somewhere in 2005-ish, I came from frigid, no-way-children, to Thawing.  And on a trip we took to Mexico with my law school girlfriends, I said either 0 or 5 was what I wanted — they laughed at me, and wondered what the hell was wrong with me , but still.  And down and down this path I went, until probably last year.  When my college bestie became pregnant. And revealed all the ugliness that happens during pregnancy, that nobody freaking talks about.  And after Baby was born, too.

And that’s when I turned, and started getting excited about having children.

To me, I just couldn’t stand the idea of perfection — I knew I wouldn’t be perfect, and I know nobody is except Christ.  I get it.  But…. there were so many ways to fail, and I didn’t want to fail my child.

But when Kris started talking, just about all these things that just Happen, and no they weren’t in her control, and it wasn’t At All a Fail on her part — The lightbulb went on in my head.  And then my friend Teresa getting pregnant, too, which we found out about last May or June — And the pact I entered with Melissa, where we swore we’d each try over the next year, and tell the other, and tell the other even if we miscarried and we’d be honest and tell the other if we didn’t want to hear about the pregnancy of the other one if it was still going, but of course we’d still be supportive — I know, morbid.  But man, friends and friends’ friends’ etc. were miscarrying left and right, and I didn’t want it to be awkward.

But.  So.  The previous post.  We’ve been trying (just not in any actual scientific method, just keeping it all in, and weekly) for maybe 6 weeks?  And talking about it since May or so.  Even June, when we had our trip, we talked about how crazy it would be if we conceived an anniversary baby   But then July got busy because my oral argument in August…

And that’s kind of how we’d been

So.  Excited. Anticipation is what I’m feeling, in a good way.  And I hope this baby sticks.  (Uh, is that terrible?)  No idea how to pick a doctor.  My one attempt went horribly.  I’m hoping I can visit my family doctor, because I like her *a lot lot lot* and maybe she can recommend someone else. Gah, I’ve heard some nightmare stories.

Mick thinks maybe we can see one at the nearby hospital — that would rock. But maybe they don’t do that.  We’ll see.

I was gonna clean, but maybe I can’t use those cleaners now?  Jeebus.

But um, just a little bit: YEA!

Now we’re not sure if I can go to BCS bc I might spill the beans.  Maybe.  But hopefully I won’t.  Hopefully I’ll have an uber productive day: post office. laundry. dishes. bedroom pickup. maybe target for that murphy’s all natural stuff. or just not care. gah, unless i lose bebe, and then i’d be afraid it was my fault for cleaning our disgusting bathroom.

i might work-work, too, bc I can. and then it’s hello-regular hours. and getting in shape, so i don’t have the obese baby that T’s doctor says is cute + happening all over the place, but isn’t healthy.  And Mick & I will be the reverse of everyone: no sympathy weight for him, we’re getting fit!  Hee.

Funny things Mick said today:

(1) I asked why it was raining today (bc it makes crappy lighting): “Rain brings life, baby.”

(2) “Let me kiss this body before it gets destroyed.”

(3) “You’ve got that pregnancy glow — or your face is oily, what?”

I have zero reason to think we’re actually having a bebe. Except the standard smidge-ly late visitor, but I’m not really regular. Bc no, I’m not using birth control, and I know it is frowned upon, but the hubs and I have been together for over a decade, and we haven’t been using any preventatives for probably half our relationship.

Which of course makes me doubly certain I’m not pregnant, bc something should have happened by now, right?

But part of me is holding my breath just a teensy bit, hoping the test results will come back positive.

But then I think : hey, you work crappy hours. So does your hubby. And your house is atrociously messy — how can you possibly bring a bebe into this? And why do you want one anyway? It sure as he’ll better not be bc Its The Next Step, or Because My Friends are Doing It — wha?!

I know, I like my hard self, too.

But I know my hubs would be a fantastic daddy.
Gah, I know, just pee on the stick already…

i am working.

but actually, more like “trying to work.”

because i am, instead, very very successfully procrastinating. but that’s tangential to this post.

i meant to say that i can’t believe i am approaching my last year in my 20s, and still thinking, “Man, I am so not a cool kid.”

Like, I decided to (super) procrastinate by checking back into one of my fave bloggers when I first started reading blogs, ccnc.  And holy cow, she got to design her own bag for coach, what?! Seriously, the only thing stopping me from having bought that uber cute pink perfection was that the link is no longer good — guess all 200 bags sold, esp since it came out in May.  Man.  Well, that and it looks large-ish, = $$$.

But still!  She’s super into fashion.  And I’m not exactly, so I stopped following. But as I was catching up, I saw that she was approached to both model and style the look book for one of her fave stores in town — wha-huh? I don’t think I have a clue what I’m that passionate about, but it just seems soo neat, these two pinnacles in a fashionista’s career — and huh, what am I doing? other than preparing for this argument that is a big deal but isn’t like a dream i have – it’s just one more thing I think that will help me.

Le sigh. I definitely don’t look nearly as cool in pictures of my life, is all I’m sayin. I should work on that.  Every day, that’s what I’ll do for my last year of my 20s

I’m reading WOW-womenonwriting (who usually hosts a flash fiction contest which I’ve entered once and have goals/intentions of entering again, except um a man won third place, so — is it just “WOW-womenonwriting-as-in-authors-of-the-articles-are-women-so-it’s-just-led-by-women-but-anyone-can-benefit? Bc that doesn’t quite sound right to me — I’m never going to be in charge, and it’s difficult enough to win one of those contests, and hello, I thought this whole group was just to support women writers.  Not women-writers-who-are-in-charge-of-supporting-writers.  That’s dumb — that’s like eliminating legitimate competition (ie, male writers) just so you can say, “Hey, I’m a managing editor of X!” and what not.)

A-hem, anyway.  I’ve been flipping through some articles, some good some bad, and the stories that won cash prizes.

My husband laughed at me when I said, kinda like kids do (in my head), “I can do anything.”  This was in the context of me sewing rosettes out of an old shirt I bought him that he didn’t really care for.  And my goal was to sell them on my etsy shop, as shoe clips.  They’re fabulous — cheery white + yellow striped, from Ruehl. I know, the shirt retails for $80.  But I’m pretty sure I got it on the cheap. I hope. But I’d already started trying to convert it (unsuccessfully) into a robe for my friend. I know, see what I mean?

So I might be a little delusional. But after reading some of the articles + the stories, all I could think was, “Geez, I could write better than this.” Or that it had no use to me whatsoever *because it was so poorly written.*

And then I’m thinking, “Do I just think I’m better than I am?” [To which I could respond, "So?" But I digress.]

But, if I think I’m good at all these things, why don’t I just do them? Why don’t I just go for them?

And I’m reading this tip-articles — and it’s not like I have tips, that’s for sure, it’s just that … some read weirdly, maybe? and it just looked poorly constructed, if that makes any sense — but as I’m reading, I just think, Meh.  If this is what “experts” or professionals have to share, and I’m not into it (read: really critical), then maybe I don’t want to be a writer.

Except as those letters flowed onto the screen, I remember my dreams that are just.so. … not just good, not just real — they’ve got breath, if that makes sense.

Except I totally don’t write them out like I should.  I woke up crying (in a good way) from one just last week.  I know, these poor characters, stuck in my mind, or rather, such a short lifespan.

Anyway, other than that, though. No, perhaps writing is not for me.

But then what do I have? Not this career.  And wedding planning… but that’s hard is what i want to say.  As in, I just tried hounding one of the ladies from Little Black Book of SMP.  Um, perhaps rightfully she has ignored my correspondence So how else can I break into that?

And in this economy — really, are people still paying for coordinators?  I just want to craft, how can I do that?

I don’t want to stay home and sew.  Three rosettes in, I already know this. And vintage dress retailing isn’t quite for me either (fingers crossed for me that my one sale will go through!) — although I got distracted and am now searching on ebay for more. a-hem. Gonna run

I’ve just figured out you were such a wuss for breaking up with me the way you did. So gosh darn why can’t I just shake this. Damn Augusta and me remembering your words.