Monday, January 31, 2011

I will have my cake and I will eat it, too. Just like you.

1 week until my birthday. My favorite day of the year!

Now I know all Hell has broken loose in my life because I'm eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I hate peanut butter. It's my number one hated food tied with pineapples. But since I haven't gained any weight yet, I figure I better give baby what it wants. And apparently it wants peanut butter. Disgusting.

Hey! We stayed out until 12:15 Saturday night! We. Are. ANIMALS!

Saturday was Carol and Chanda's birthday shindig at the Yorktown Lanes bar. It was incredible, and not just because we kicked the night off with steaks accompanied by the lovely Miss Tessa. At the alley, I got to see so many friends that I haven't seen in MONTHS, even if it was briefly. I found myself a chair by John Jackson and settled in. Lots of people are pumped about the baby and we even got an amazing piece of artwork from Phoebe that says "M is for Mother, F is for Father". It was unexpected and super rad.

It was fun to see bands again, too. I felt in my element. The last  time I went to see bands at Yorktown Lanes, I got pregnant! This night was much more lowkey. And you heard it hear first...unless you heard it all over Facebook...Lady Leadfoot was AMAZING. I love Carol and her one-woman band but she was BORN to play saxophone in a funk band. My mind was blown and I was so proud.

And I never realize how much I miss people until we're together again.

But yeah, around 12:15, the monster retaliated by making me the gassiest human being on the planet and I officially LOOKED pregnant. I not only looked pregnant, I looked HUGE. I was a hot air balloon and couldn't get any relief. It took a looooooong time to fall asleep but it was worth it. I had a great time. I felt like myself.

The rest of the weekend? Zzzzzzzzzzzzz. Literally.

So life is good and very lowkey right now. Actuallym life is SUPER good because Vincent is going to be born TODAY if he hasn't been born already. Waiting for an update. He's a week late so everyone, mostly his parents, are on pins and needles. Hopefully they got to stick to their birth plan and everything is going A-OK. I can't wait to hear that he's officially appeared on the scene.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

You just want to wash me to the drain...but you can't make me go away.

700 POSTIES!!!

In the tradition of landmark posts a la 500, 600, I am going to present you with some fun facts in a fun way rather than just blather at your eyeballs per usual. First, I'm going to copycat some thingamabob (I refuse to call it a 'meme') that Bizzle is currently doing. And secondly, I'm going to jump on board the whatchamacallit that Donny is currently entertaining himself with. I like those kids so what's good enough for filling their time is good enough for filling mine.

Happy 700 Posts, Cleveland "A". You're just delicious.

PART 1: Stolen from Phee-Bizzle.

One: Ten things you want to say to ten different people right now.

-I wish I had even a fraction of your guts. Whenever you tell me you're nervous about something, it shocks the Hell out of me. In my mind, you are totally fearless, which I think is totally awesome.

-Becoming a mother is the best thing that ever happened to you. I've always been crazy about you as a person but when I look at you now, you're just so damn beautiful. Inside and out. You've come a long way, baby.

-The negative way you treated me pushed me...not to be a better person because I was just fine. And not to prove you wrong because I don't have to prove anything to anyone. But it pushed me...and now, I have a GREAT life. What the fuck have you got?

-All of my most ridiculous memories took place with you. I don't think we're going to be making any more memories like that. Kind of makes me wish the last "story worthy" thing we did together didn't take place at a Taco Bell.

-I'm probably not as sad as I should be that I don't really know who you are anymore. I'd rather fondly remember who you used to be.

-I'm really, really proud of you. You've grown leaps and bounds from the person you were 10 years ago. Not that that person was bad, by any means. You're just pretty damn amazing now. I can't tell you how much it means to me that you're still in my life after all these years and our ups and downs. My days just aren't the same when you're not around. You're one of my best friends.

-I could not function without you. You are the love of my life.

-The two of you make me feel like I'm worthless. And I refuse to let ANYONE make me feel that way. So where do we go from here?

-You're going to get through it. There is a light at the end of the tunnel, but the tunnel might be 1,000 miles long and filled with snakes. Regardless, I know you will get through it and you will manage to come out relatively unharmed on the other side. I'm happy to go through it with you...but you have to deal with the snakes.

-You're a monster and most of the people who know you agree.  The rest of them will figure it out. Eventually, you will be left with nothing but regrets. In the words of Phil Collins, a very wise man, "If you told me you were drowning, I would not lend a hand".

Two: Nine things about yourself.

-I have always been told that I am my mother's daughter. I don't doubt this in the least. We're both totally bananas, laugh at our own jokes, like the same music. and movies. But after flipping over a relatively important document to draw a diagram to illustrate a point, I was told I was my father's daughter. It was the first time.

-If I'm crying, and someone else starts crying, I stop crying.

-I'm not a lazy person, per se, but my favorite days are the ones where you stay in your pajamas, eating junk, watching movies, reading magazines. Lazy days. So many of my favorite days involved Becky, romantic-comedies and Chinese food, or Phoebe, bad movies, brownies and mac-n-cheese. Simple. Perfect. Honestly...I'm easy to please.

-I can day-dream like nobody's business. I have about 1,000,000 different lives.

-I try to be as honest as I can with people. I don't believe that holding things back or sugar-coating things, especially when asked directly, helps anyone. HOWEVER, I am not blunt. I believe there is a huge difference between being honest and being blunt. I don't think blunt people care about who they hurt with their words. I still try to protect people's feelings...because I know I can take things very personally at times. You can be honest. You don't need to be an asshole.

-I'm trying to be less of an asshole.

-I hate the word 'asshole'. Not as much as I hate 'butthole' though.

-I really and truly have very little regrets about my life and how I've lived it. Sure, there are things I wish I'd never done or people I wish I'd never wasted my time with, and so on. But overall, every experience I've had has made my life what it is in one way or another. And right now, I truly love my life. There's nothing more I could ask for.

-It's been incredibly difficult to just talk about myself.

Three: Eight ways to win your heart.

-Love me for me, quirks and all. Don't expect me to change and don't ask me to. Treat me how you expect/want to be treated.

-Trust me and be trust worthy. Simple as that.

-Little things go a long laying out my pre-natal vitamins and a banana for the morning or texting me to let me know it's icy out because you know I'm clumsy or bringing me lunch to work because I forgot me and leaving a sweet note in the bag. The sweet, little gestures mean more to me than any expensive gift.

-Be yourself. It's your weird little quirks and silliness, the stuff that sets you apart, that make me swoon.

-Love my friends like I love them. Take them into your life. Make them your friends. Because if I was forced to choose...

-Be supportive and encouraging. A pat on the back or "way to go" or an offer of help from you means more than from anyone else in the world.

-It may sounds dumb, silly, pathetic, juvenile...but a random snuggle, a hug, a smooch, a head/back rub, hand holding, pulling you close at night...aces. All of it.

-Accept that I'm a chick and will do chick things like get moody or emo. Cutting some clack from time to time is always appreciated.

Four: Seven things that cross your mind a lot.

- "We're sooooo close to being in good financial shape. It's going to feel so good to have a surplus of money every week. What a weight that'll be off my mind."

- "If I never saw you again, I wouldn't miss you. I wonder if that's bad."

- "I can't wait to find out if you're a boy or a girl."


- "If I go to bed this early, will that be pathetic?"

- "Life is good."

- "Gross."

Five: Six things you wish you’d never done.

-Various tattoos and facial piercings automatically come to mind.

-Dated not 1 but 2 raging alcoholics who treated me like garbage while I wasted my youth keeping them alive.

-Eloped when I was just a young idiot.

-Let you make me feel bad in order to feel better about yourself.

-Put myself in some of the bad positions I put myself in.

-Erased the photos of the damage you caused

Six: Five people who mean a lot (in no order whatsoever)

1. Todd
2. Tessa
3. Carol
4. Becky
5. The monster

Seven: Four turn-offs.

-Frat-boy syndrome...where pounding beers is SO AWESOME.
-Excessive cussing for no reason.
-Phonies a.k.a. no original personality.
-Know-It-Alls...even if they DO know it all.

Eight: Three turn-ons.

-A genuine, happy smile and rad sense of humor.
-Something that sets you apart from the pack.
-A positive attitude without being too hippie-ish.

Nine: Two images that describe your life right now, and why.

Why? Because NOTHING means more to me right now than these things:

Ten: One confession.

-This was exhausting. I think Donny's project might have to be post 701. My brain aches.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Sittin' here wishin' on a cement floor.

Rollercoaster goes up. Rollercoaster goes down.

Until yesterday, I had never really fainted before. It was unexpected as I'm guessing most fainting is. I was in the shower getting ready for work and, pardon my French, blacked-the-fuck-out. I never lost consciousness but I lost vision.

A few stumbles back and I cracked my melon on the shower wall. Vision back, room spinning, heart pounding, me yacking. Ultra glamerous. And ultra scary.

I laid down on the bathroom and could hear/feel my head pounding in my ears. Migrated to the bed and felt comatose. I tried to fuel up to see if that was the problem but I was just off. Period. High-tailed it to the ER to get the scoop.

They had to think I was high.

Regardless, they asked me a battery of questions and ran a plethora of tests, including several BP tests and an EKG. The conclusion was that my blood pressure was reaaaaaally low (due to pregnancy, dehydration, and possibly the notoriously hot showers I take).

My blood supply has increased and is focused around the tiny human I'm growing. Takes longer for blood to get to the brain. But that's nothing new. I was encouraged to follow up with my OB/GYN within 24 hours so here I am, waiting.

I guess the whole low BP mess gets treated with rest and boatloads of fluids. I was told to drink until I feel overhydrated...and them keep drinking. I'm probably internally drowning.

It's all a bummer because I had turned a corner. No more random nausea, not sooo exhausted, appetite starting to rally. Then this. Balls.

Up next? My 700th post.
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Tuesday, January 18, 2011

I feel the chemicals creeping in.

 My new obsessions! I am going to try and pick up the book of patterns today and get cracking on crocheting these awesome little dolls. Of course my unborn monster needs ALL of them, but I also want to make some for Vincent, Evan, Livvie, etc. So I need to get started so I can get over the first pancake phenomenon.

I taught myself how to knit from a book so I'm sure I can learn how to crochet. I heard the patterns can be a little tricky if you're already used to typical crochet patterns...but I'm not! I'm unspoiled! Working on these little critters will give me something to do besides watch 7 seasons of Gilmore Girls when my stomach is feeling lame. I'm really pumped.

First up for my bundle of horror...robot, ninja, and possibly Spartan.


Monday, January 17, 2011

I don't mind and I don't mind.

Nothing says Monday like your doc declaring you STD free.


Maybe I should state that I had no doubts about my STD-free-ness. I was forced into the tests by my doc who was just looking out for the eyesight of my unborn. Vaginal yuck and baby blindness go hand-in-hand. If you didn't know, now you do.

Want a rant?

I can't flippity flipping BELIEVE that Annette Benning won a Golden Globe for that horrific monstrosity, "The Kids Are Alright". That movie was garbage and I'll be fast-forwarding through her acceptance speech when I watch the Globes...which I have DVR'd because I have an awards show addiction. I would've pulled a Kanye, had I been there. Why I would be at the Golden Globes is in question but I would've gone apeshit!

And why is the press all overcome with shock and awe about Ricky Gervais making jokes at the expense of some "celebrities"? Have you ever watched an awards show before? Do you even KNOW who Ricky Gervais IS? I can't wait to see him lay into Angelina Jolie. She needs to be taken down a few pegs. Preferably by me. And Preferably by cutting off her calves with a machete.

Speaking of amputation...

Sorry, Zsa Zsa. I heard you don't even know your leg is gone yet but that you've been eating ice cream and sausage and smiling. I would not be smiling if I came off of Morphine to discover my leg had been removed. But maybe Zsa Zsa Gabor isn't as anti-amputation as I am. Wait...maybe I'm not so much ANTI-amputation. I'm just terrified of it. Apotemnaphobia. If I were her...apeshit.

I had a bunch of nightmares last night. One dealing with me outside at night in the rain, digging through wet soil to find these long, scary, angry weasel type creatures and then pretty much beating them to death because they were both frightening AND stopping me from fixing my car battery. I felt like I was in the pool in "Poltergeist".

I somehow think the nightmare was cause by an episode of "No Reservations" where Anthony Bourdain was digging for Geoduck/Gooey Duck. Yeah, I'm officially also afraid of prehistoric looking clams. Ostroconophobia. That's just a fear of clams, not prehistoric looking ones specifically.

I've gotta go. I'm feeling freaked out by my own rant!

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Heaven knows what happens now.

A lot of milestones are creeping up here in my ridiculous little life. Commemoration of 32 years put in on this planet by me (I do NOT miss my 20s one little bit), 3 years as a dedicated employee at The Coast (I get a pizza party and a cool grand once I've been here 10 years, which is one of my main goals in life...who doesn't like a pizza party and a pat on the back?), and 3 years running amok with Todd.

Maybe 3 years doesn't sound like that long in the grand scheme of things but if I think about WHERE I was working or WHO I might have been seeing at the time or WHAT my ridiculous little life was life, it seems lifetimes ago.  Light years. It's hard to even remember, which may be a blessing. Those were not my most glamorous moments, I'll tell you what. And I'm not just talking about the pink hair or the drunken debacles *twitch*

But for feeling like 3 years really isn't that long, I've managed to jam pack a boatload of shtuff in there. I left a job that I once loved (and was pretty damn good at), I left someone (which was one of the most freeing feelings in my life), I got a new and much better job, found a new and much better mate (and we mated for life), got engaged and planned a wedding, tied that knot and was a newlywed, moved into the house we'll spend the rest of our lives in, and created LIFE out of THIN AIR! When I think about all that, yeah, 3 years is a long time.

If you had to spend 3 years in jail, I bet you'd fucking hate it.

I don't know why I'm doing all this pseudo-deep thinking. I also don't know why I'm using so many parenthesis today. I know the past 3 years have been far superior to the previous 3, and for that, I'm thankful.

And I do know it's comforting that the main cast of characters in my life have remained from then to now. They're good eggs. I hate that term, "good eggs", because I hate eggs. But if I said, "They're good squids", would people be left scratching their heads? How did this whole thing start again? Oh yeah, life is funny. I think that's the central theme.

Thanks for being good squids.

Monday, January 10, 2011

I'm not the one to tell you what's wrong or what's right.

Let me stress AGAIN how glad I am to have been in a coma for most of 2011 so far because this year has been b-b-bumpy for family and friends already! To any of my nearest and dearest going through a rough patch right now, I love you and know you'll come out the other side relatively unscathed, even if it doesn't seem like it at the moment. One foot in front of the other.

I have not had my hair cut in almost a year. Which I believe is the same thing I said last year at this time. I need to get the thumbs up from my doc tomorrow for a dye job (I don't want our monster coming out with three heads because I couldn't live without peek-a-boo highlights) and then I'm treating myself. This mess is even too long for an Ann-Margaret 'do and that just doesn't work in my book. I refuse to look scruffy.

Carol's birthday shin-dig is coming up at the end of the month which means the debut of Lady Leadfoot. I'm excited about that and having a bowling ally grilled cheese, equally. I just have to train the mutt in my gut to WANT to rock out. Or at least to allow ME to rock out. I refuse to sleep through a bunch of fun bands and celebrating a lady I lurve. If you're looking for me, I'll be at the counter eating one of everything (I WILL have my appetite back by then, I WILL).

Speaking of mutts-in-guts, I predict that Vincent will be born on January 19th. I don't know why but I have a feeling he'll make an early debut. I'm pretty good at predicting what kind of junk the unborn will end up with but I've never taken a stab at due dates. So...January 19th. You heard it here first.

That's all. Hard to entertain when you've become a championship napper.

Baby blather here.

Wednesday, January 05, 2011

Some will fall in love with life and drink it from a fountain that was pouring like an avalanche, coming down the mountain.

I hate Dane Cook. He is not at all funny. Loud does not equal hilarious.

I also hate the song "Only Girl" by Rhianna. I've heard it accidentally while scanning the radio channels and it's atrocious. It truly sounds like she struggling and I find that annoying.

Let's see...what else do I currently hate?

Phonies. That's a given. Anyone with a hidden agenda. Anyone trying to purposefully ruffle feathers. And I'm sort of hating 2011. For me, it's been swell because I've been in a constant coma (though the little monster let me escape yesterday with ZERO morning sickness and none so far today), but I'm hating it for pals and family.

Within 4 days, a friend had to unexpectedly bury a young family member, my cousin (the nicest guy in Cleveland, everyone loves Dave P.) was attacked by a Canadian jackass and has his arm in a cast, and my bro-in-law (Godfather to the unborn) was hauled out of work in an ambulance. All within 4 days! Bananas.

So I'm feeling kind of hate-y today. This never-ending chest cold is helping to feed my rage. It was a struggle to fall out of bed today. Pudding for breakfast has increased the odds that this day will improve.

And less than a week until we get to see/hear a heartbeat. That's boss.

Sunday, January 02, 2011

Maybe the time is right. Oh, maybe tonight.

Happy New Year, sexy pants.

I still haven't made a resolution and still don't think I will seeing as I can't see past my next nap. But I think I'm going to follow in Little Jen's footsteps and make this year a little bit more about me. 2011 with be the year of Lacey.

I spent far too much of 2010 worrying about other people...not that that's a bad thing. But a piece of advice I have always lived by...and that I'm the only one who will be in my coffin so I'm the one I need to make happy. Now I'm not being selfish. I want to make others happy...husband, family, close friends. But I need to spend some time on me.

Right now, I'm feeling so guilty for all the time I spend sleeping or exhausted. Like I'm abandoning my family. But, as my pals keep reminding me, I'm growing a human being! There is nothing wrong with me getting as much sleep as possible. I've got to take care of me.

And there have been some people who have taken up too many of my thoughts and don't deserve to. Maybe it sounds harsh to say I'm writing people of...but I am. I need to be surrounded by less drama and less negativity. I'm not turning "hippie" but I have lots of awesome people on my life. They're who I want to be around.

So, I guess that's it. 2011: The Year Of Me.
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