Out With The Old, In With The New

Let's face it.

This blog has gone from spectacularly awesome to Sucky McSucksAlot.

My lackluster posting has been a thorn in my side these past 12 months, and as we ring in the New Year, I think I'm finally ready to say goodbye to Tapdancing In The Dark.

But before I go, I want to say thank you to each and every one of you who stood by me, faithfully returning to read my posts, even when the suckage was off the charts. You guys were my interwebz famiily, and I'm grateful for each and every one of you.

Much love....much love.

Fortunately, we don't have to completely break ties.

Allow me to introduce my (zombie)ass-kicking new blog:

Something Zombie This Way Comes.

I feel a new blog objective will help me get back my "funny," and what better subject is there than zombies?

So find (and follow) me there if you so desire - it'll be nice to see a friendly face on the new blog.

I wish you ALL a happy New Year and the best that 2011 can offer.

XOXOXO
Lily

The Worst Recap Ever (or: WTF...Why Is It Almost Christmas?!?)

Montreal was nice.
Cold enough to freeze my proverbial nuts off, but nice.

Mt. Tremblant was nice too, as long as I kept my ass at the BOTTOM of the mountain where it belonged.
The TOP of the mountain was an entirely different story
(Pizza....french fries....pizza....PIZZA! PIZZA!!! AAAHHHHH!....*thud*....repeat)

Needless to say that the "pizza/french fries" ski technique doesn't work on a mountain of considerable height covered in 6 inches of fresh powder.

But the OTHER "pizza/french fries" technique....yanno...the one where you eat your weight in assorted french delicacies...
That technique works FANTASTIC in Canada
(I'm bustin' out of my pants as we speak)

And this concludes the Worst Recap Ever.

Because when I LEFT for Canada it was December 4th and Christmas was weeks away. But now that I'm BACK from Canada it's December 13th and there's only one weekend left 'till Christmas and I am ALL KINDS OF CONFUSED about that.
And a little bit wild....I'm not gonna lie.
Holy fuck, I have a lot to do!

So if you're reading this and you USUALLY get a Christmas card from me?
Consider this my Christmas Greeting to you.
(Happy [insert winter holiday here]...cheer, warm wishes, plentiful booze, etc)

And if you're reading this and you USUALLY get a Christmas present from me?...
Don't be surprised if it's wrapped in newspaper and thrown in a ShopRite bag.

Because my ass is bruised, my pants don't fit, and I am OUT OF TIME, people!!

On Montreal, And Why You Shouldn't Rob Us (Unless You Need A Blender)

Brian says I'm not supposed to talk about our trip to Montreal.

"People will know that we're not home," he says, "and they could come and steal our stuff."

Well, to anyone who would like to break into our house, I'd like to say first that the back door is usually unlocked so please try that entrance before you bust up our door frame. The second thing I'd like to say is please, help yourself to our circa 1994 tube TV and outdated PC and the blender that my grandmother gave me for a college graduation gift. Hell, the newest thing in our house is the refrigerator and if you break into our house prepared to lift that 700-pound monstrosity, then I'm gonna go ahead and say that you've earned the right to take it.

Not like his opinion counts anyway...
He got a SEVERE concussion last weekend and hasn't recovered yet, so I'm writing off anything he says as the ramblings of a crazy man.

Poor guy.
I joke, but the doctor says you're only allowed one of those hits in a lifetime, and he just used his up. Of course, when you're watching your spouse vomit profusely in the ER while being unable to keep his eyes open, it doesn't take a doctor to tell you that his brains are a little scrambled.

(That flag football...it's a dangerous, dangerous sport)

So now I'm heading up to Montreal with my in-laws and a husband whose brains are over-easy and a little under-done...
In December, which means it'll be ghastly cold and on top of that, Brian can't ski or drink.
Which begs the question, What ELSE is there to do in Montreal in December besides ski and drink???

If you're expecting me to answer that question....I cannot - although I suspect it involves a great deal of family bonding time (sanz booze)
*sigh

So yes, we're going to Montreal to NOT ski. OR drink.
Still interested in robbing our house?
I didn't think so
(your pity is palpable from here)

Work. Yay! and Booo!

Just a short post to let you all know that I may be MIA for a while.

I landed a crap-ton of freelance work, which is totally awesome!
if you like working slave hours

I mean, it's Christmas, and I could really use the money.
Did I mention I'll probably be working on Christmas day?

Plus, I'm thrilled and flattered that several companies are now using me as one of their primary freelance writers
my rates are so cheap, I'm practically working for peanuts

Besides, boarding Mikey is getting very expensive
correction: I'm working for hay and poop-removal services

And the dogs eat a LOT of dog food
I'm officially a slave for my animals. There. Someone had to say it.

But it's okay...I love what I do
English was the only major in college that didn't require Calc 1

And my writing is helping to educate hundreds of physicians
so they can treat dangerous, life threatening cases of hospital-associated mud-butt

*sigh
Granted, December is not the best month to be loaded up with various monographs, slide sets, and needs assessments.
But that's the life of a freelancer. I get to roll out of bed and work in my jammies...
But sometimes I'm rolling out of bed and working in my jammies on a Saturday.
Or...yanno...Christmas.
YAY!

So if I don't manage to squeeze in a post between now and next Thursday

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

I hope you all have a great time and manage to eat your weight in turkey.
But don't forget to wear your stretchy pants, people!
I cannot emphasize this enough.

STRETCHY PANTS!!!

Okay, it's back to work for me. I only have 12 more hours until bedtime and I have to pull some miracles out of my ass.

Eggs. Not The Kind You Scramble.

I have bad eggs.

Not the kind you get in the store.
The kind your ovaries make (if you're a woman, that is. If you're a man and you're making bad eggs with your ovaries, I think you have bigger things to worry about than egg quality).

They don't tell you this shit BEFORE your IVF, mostly because A) the lab doesn't feel like giving a science lesson every time they call someone on the phone, and B) IVF usually works, so there'd be no point anyway.

However, for those with less-than-stellar quality embryos, it would kind of be nice to know this BEFORE we get our hopes up.

All I can say is thank sweet, candy-coated jesus for health insurance. Sure, the IFV failed due to poor egg quality, but imagine trying to wrap your head around a failed IVF cycle, bad eggs, AND a $30,000 hit to the bank account?

If there was EVER a time in your life when you'd want to punch babies, THAT WOULD BE IT, folks.

So my bad eggs put our chances for IVF success somewhere in the 25% to 35% range, instead of the 55% to 65% range we thought we were initially dealing with.

If I were an obese smoker, there would be an excellent chance that lifestyle changes could improve the quality of my embryos.
However, since I'm already relatively healthy, the doctor says there's not a heck of a lot I can do.

"Try accupuncture" he said, "There's no data that it helps, but it might make you feel better...feel like you're doing something to change your odds; maybe send some positive vibes out"

Christ.
When your doctor starts talking about accupuncture and happy thoughts, I think it's safe to say that he's out of ideas.

So 2011, it seems, will be The Year of the IVF Cycle.
Our insurance covers up to 4 attempts (allow me to thank sweet, candy-coated jesus once again for health insurance), and my doctor seems to think we might need to use all 4 of them if we want a chance at a bambino.

So in case you were wondering....THAT is how eggs can ruin your late twenties.

Salmonella ain't got NOTHIN' on that shit.

We're taking the rest of the year off. To heal and come back stronger, I guess, but also because the holidays are crazy and the thought of taking all those shots and pills while simultaneously trying to find the perfect gift for everyone kind of makes me want to shank someone.

So I guess this blog will be getting a "fertility break" as well, and I can hardly imagine how grateful you all will be for not having to read my "poor me, I'm infertile, booo hoooo" blogs every week.
(I'm well aware that there are children starving and people battling cancer out there, so my dramatic performances over infertility can't have been much appreciated).

In other words, THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart for hanging in there with me. Those three of you who are still reading my blog despite all the dismal posts totally kick ass and I'll be sending each of you a muffin basket.

mwah*

Life Moving Along And Such

I'm not going to say that I'm not still hurting.
And I'm certainly far from being my old, funny self (Read: this post will NOT be interesting)

But I will say that despite my best efforts to hide under the covers, life is soldiering on. The human spirit is remarkably buoyant and besides...the house got really, REALLY dirty while I was depressed. Like, you wipe your shoes to LEAVE the house because the ground outside is cleaner than your foyer floor.

THAT kind of dirty.

Ick.

So here I am, relatively intact, with a cleaner floor and a brighter outlook.
The IVF didn't work.
So what.
Life has something else in store for me, and that's totally cool. (for now, until I get in one of my moods again)

What else is going on in the life of Lily?
Not...a heck of a lot.

Work is slow. It's great. And terrible. Kind of....grterrible. I have time to cook and clean and be all domestic. And ride my horse, which is totally kick-ass. But I also have copious amounts of time to think and/or sulk, which is not the best timing. And with Christmas coming up, plus a last-minute trip to Montreal scheduled for early December (I'll get to that in a minute), I sure could use a little more income, if yanno what I mean.

But such is the life of a freelance writer, no?

That trip to Montreal....
It's gonna be interesting.

You see, Brian's brother has a contract position in Afghanistan. He gets HUGE tax breaks, but he can only enter the country for a certain amount of days each year to GET those tax breaks. So he has a vacation coming up, and no more time left in the States. Hence, Brian, me, and my in-laws are driving up to Montreal to spend a week with him.

Yes.
You heard right.
A week vacay with my in-laws.

And don't get me wrong...my in-laws are lovely people. I say that with no sarcasm whatsoever. I truly consider myself lucky to have such great people in my life.
But a week long trip with them is a first, and needless to say, I'm a little...overwhelmed...at the thought.

But that's ok.
At least I'm not pregnant, so I can drink and ski.
Or throw myself down the stairs.

Small blessings, people....small blessings.

So that's it.
It's November.
I'm not sure when THAT happened, but the calendar says so and the calendar don't lie.
Which is confusing, because according to the stores and ads, it's Christmas time.
But it's only November.
...I don't get it.

Regardless, the fire place is now in full use, and I can start to figure out which winter sport is guaranteed to put me in the hospital this year.

Ahhh, winter (smells like the ER).

I hope everybody enjoys their weekend.
When I was working, this would be the time when I'd be all, IT'S FRIDAY, MOTHERF*CKERS...but since I work from home now, it really doesn't matter. Hell, these days, I can barely keep track of what MONTH it is, let alone which day of the week.

Still...for those of you out there in the 9-5 grind, IT'S FRIDAY, MOTHERF*CKERS.
BOO-YAH!
Go home, have a drink, and get frisky with your loved one.

Lily out.

Justice (or lack thereof)

The IVF didn't work.

I wasn't going to blog about it either way, but I don't know what else to do. My heart is breaking over and over again, and I'm hoping that writing might help ease the pain.
Nothing else seems to make it better...everything around me reminds me of how I am not now and will most likely never be a biological mother.

Where is the justice in life?
Where is all that Karma?
Where is God or Allah or Buddah?
Who, up there, is deciding that I'm not cut out for motherhood?

Who is labeling me as an infertile, despite the fact that I've spent my whole life eating right and exercising and taking care of myself, both physically and emotionally? Despite the fact that I struggled my way out of a horrible, abusive marriage and managed to rebuild my life from scratch? Despite the fact that all I'm trying to do is carve out a little niche of happiness with my soul mate and best friend?

Who up there is letting lousy people in lousy marriages reproduce like rabbits while Brian and I, two people full of love...who are trying to have a baby for all the right reasons...get negative pregnancy test after negative pregnancy test?

For the love of god, WHO IS RUNNING THE SHOW UP THERE?!? Because if there is anyone...anyone...out there who has EARNED their right to a family...it's Brian and me.

Fuck.
FUCK.


This blog used to be a happy place. Well, at least a sarcastic and funny place, if not a little disgruntled.
And I'm hoping that this blog will one day be a happy place again (hopefully with a little less disgruntlement and a little more genuine cheer).

But for now, this blog is about as empty and hopeless as my soul. I'm writing only for me ...to keep myself from going mad...to maybe pull myself away from the edge, if only just an inch or two. I'm using it as a crutch, to give me strength where there is none. To give me the peace that I have yet to find.

I've encountered a lot of obstacles in my life, but this one might be the biggest.
Please, God, or Allah, or Karma or whoever, help me to climb it.
Because I stumbled 4 days ago and I have yet to get up.