Thursday, December 6, 2012

(gratitude interlude)

So this whole thing here (motions wildly with hands) went psuedosemiquasi public yesterday (except for the part that’s NOT PUBLIC AND SHALL NEVER BE PUBLIC cause you know, fragile ego, must-maintain-gainful-employment, etc.)

Anyway, since more than me, C[1] and two of our friends started reading this thing, you kind people – including one mystery reader in Qatar[2] – have given me a lot to think about. Firstly, thank you. For like, caring and reading and even occasionally laughing. It means a lot. Secondly, some of you came, like out of nowhere, with your own wilder-funnier-crazier-more-badass fertility sagas that I didn’t-even-know-about (not that we’re keeping score. cause that would be creepy). So, damn. It feels good to be among you, ladies (okay fine, it feels like the seventh ring of Dante’s Infertility Inferno, but you know what I mean, right?). Then there were those of you who, in response to news of this shindig, graciously made offers like: “want me to make you a dish of apricot, clam, shrimp, prune and tofu? yum!” because umm, she wants to kill me foods with iron may enhance fertility? Yeah. It’s the latter. DEFINITELY the latter. Others of you have babysat this luddite, shepherded her (uh, when did third person happen?) through the vast desert of the interwebs, and taught her the terrifying truths of tracing and trolling and also something called ROBOT.TXT which she still doesn’t actually understand even if she said she did. Because, let’s face it, she’s a lying liar whose palms sweat at the very mention of the words IP ADDRESS. <liberal arts major. does not compute. *moves hands like robot*>

All this to say: thanks. I had many good reasons not to start this blog, such as, in no particular order/this is only a partial list/there are so many new reasons I think of every day it’s like pick your own adventure: future prospects for employment quickly fading; if I ever do have children they will be completely warped, like, Motherboy-warped, and require years of therapy from having seen the word “transvaginal” written by a lady they called “mom”; my ego is a delicate flower; and also ohmygodiwillneverworkagain. But yet, I press on! (I know, it’s UH-MAY-ZING how much adversity I’ve overcome as a privileged-middle-class-white-lawyer-person. Sigh. A moment for my struggles, pleaseandthankyouverymuch.)

And with that, I am, clearly, done with the sap and back to the snark. Thanks for playing.

[1] Me: So…(casually now since he has been working nights in the hospital for the last 4 days and is exceedingly tired), have you read the whole blog?
C: [pause as cog turns ever so slowly and then, haltingly] I have not read all of the blog.
Me: VERY diplomatic choice of words. <points out that this statement does not preclude him having read none of the blog>. 
C: *throws small tantrum and concedes that he actually did read the part he could see on his screen without scrolling THE BLOG but he’s being obstinate because he finally realizes that I’m actually funnier than him*
[2] <waves to Qatari censors> 

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