Starting with the good news. Do we all remember many years ago when I lived with Gina? She's one of my best friends from high school. I lived with her for nearly three years, if you count the fact that while we were in the sorority house, my room was directly above hers and we were inseperable.
Anyway. She is engaged. I'm still dumbfounded by the idea that I'm actually OLD enough to have friends who are starting families. Nonetheless, I am really happy for her.
As for me, two things emerge. First, this totally fucks up my theory about meeting people in bars and it being the stupidest, shadiest thing you can do. I still think it's up there, but apparently there are still decent, EMPLOYED men who go, seeing as how G-love is marrying one. Go figure.
Second. We're the same age. Up until I started grad school, I felt like we had literally the same existence. Now, I'm increasingly aware of the fact that she has evolved into a bonafide adult and I'm slowing mutating into the crazy cat lady who lives with her gay boyfriend and cruises men too young for her at bars.
Yeeesh.
I'm not sure yet if I'll be a bridesmaid in this wedding, or singing, or anything. There was some kind of hubbub about how many of the groom's 293948 cousins would be permitted in the wedding party. G's family is relatively small. I guess we'll find out.
Always the bridesmaid. Never the harpsichord player.
Still haven't had my period. But last night was...special. I know that the men will hate me and disagree here, but I honestly don't think it's fair that we as women are expected to keep track of everything that goes into or comes out of our vaginas. When you go to the gyno, you have to answer questions about when the last time you had sex was, when your last period was, how many sexual partners you've had...do men generally keep up with this information? No.
I always go back and forth about whether or not to tell a guy if my period is late. If it's a couple of days or something, I don't usually say anything. But come on, people. Two months.
So I told Jordan. And that's when the fun started.
He freaked out. Not that I blame him. And he accused me of acting all nonchalant about it. I wasn't really, but I've been carrying around this information for a while, so I've had time to process. Plus, who wants to think about having to go to the doctor to get a preggers test when you don't know who to tell him the potential father is? Not I, I can tell you that.
So, he insisted that I go out at 11 last night to get a home test. And I did. I took Matt with me, since he had to get some allergy meds anyway. Well, the stupid test didn't read right. One line means not pregnant. Two lines means pregnant. I don't know what no lines mean.
Jordan called all panicked, and I told him what happened. He wanted me to go back out to get another one (um, no), and when I refused, he decided to get one and bring it over. At this point, I was actually really angry with him. I probably couldn't explain to you why, except to say that I was irritated with him for having absolutely NO time for me until this point. And he was driving me nuts.
On the way over, he called and apologized for the way he was acting, and I realize now that I'm lucky to have a friend who was willing to drive across town to get this checked out.
Long story short, I'm not pregnant, but I still don't know what has happened to the uterus. It's literally MIA.
Today, I'm buying a television. Because when you've had a high-stress day, nothing helps your mood quite like an electronic purchase. That's my hypothesis, anyway.
Fin.
My apologies and a farewell??? - 2005-10-20
It should be Friday somewhere. - 2005-10-03
It's Friday again! - 2005-10-01
Amendment to previous entry... - 2005-09-26
Longer than I intended. It's to tide you over for another week. - 2005-09-23