"You can't take a picture of this. It's already gone."

Monday, September 27, 2010

Megan is.....

The proud new mommy of identical twin boys, Daniel and Luke.

More to follow.

Because there is a large story that goes with this,

Thursday, September 9, 2010

To A Stranger

Dear Stranger,
There were 2 of you yesterday. One was an excellent, attentive friendly nurse. Another came off that way, but then appeared to run screaming in the opposite direction for forty minutes while I was vomiting. It’s a good thing my mom and fiancé were there because I would’ve been by myself, covered in vomit, unable to sit up , clean up or take a shower for at the very least forty minutes. That’s kind of a scary thought because I couldn’t even move without shaking or feeling like I was going to fall over so I would have been stuck. I realize you have other patients to care for, but I was stuck. Literally. And when you came back forty minutes later, your nails were a different color. You looked shocked that I noticed it, even with me so ridiculously hyped up on Demerol. You wouldn’t write down your name and number and acted very put out when my mom did. Your supervisor wouldn’t get new bed linens or give us the code to GET new bed linens so when I was finished showering (once again, while you weren’t there, my mom literally held me up), I was stuck sitting in a bathroom full of vomit covered linens, and I couldn’t get up by myself and I could barely sit up. This isn’t to be mean or anything, it’s just to say that it was kind of scary, especially to a person who has never been in a hospital before. It was lonely and while I was very glad my mom and fiancé were there, it would’ve been nice to be able to count on the person that I was supposed to be able to. Thank God my mom’s a nurse, otherwise that might’ve ruined the whole nursing thing for me.

Nurse number one, though? Practically perfect in every way. 

Megan

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Oh, half of my heart.

Oh dear, I probably shouldn’t be watching more True Blood. It’s bad for me but it’s soooo delicious. Seasons two and three, you have been SOO good to me with Lafayette’s character development. Take a look at this quote


“"'Scuse me. Who ordered the hamburger... with AIDS? In this restaurant, a hamburger deluxe comes with french fries, lettuce, tomato, mayo, and AIDS! Do anyone got a problem wit dat? Aw baby, it's too late for that. Faggots been breeding your cows, raisin' your chickens, even brewin' your beer long before I walked my sexy ass up in this motherfucker. Everything on your God damn table got aids. Well all you gots to do is say hold the aids here. Eat it! Bitch, you come into my house ,you gonna eat the food THE WAY I FUCKIN' MAKE IT! Do you understand me? Tip your waitress."”

That was season one. It only gets better.

"Don't get it twisted hunny, I'm a survivor first, a capitalist second, and a whooole bunch-a otha' shit after that, but a hooka' dead last, so if I got even a Jew at an Al Qaeda pep rally shot at gettin' my black-ass outta this mutha' fucka', I'm takin' it; Now whatch' you wanna know?"

Sookie: "He's your maker, isn't he?"
Eric: "Don't use words you don't understand."
Sookie: "You have a lot of love for him."
Eric: "Don't use words I don't understand."

"Did you know your boyfriend hit me over the head with a 52 inch plasma television earlier tonight? Everyone says they're so thin and light, but let me tell you, when wielded properly, they're quite a weapon."

"Now Jesus and I agree to see other people that doesn't mean we don't still talk from time to time."


I’m not kidding, it’s just delicious. Sweet and sassy and southern as apple pie with a healthy dose of witchcraft, vampirism, Catholicism, sex and enough swearing to make a sailor blush. Not me, though, because I can singlehandedly bring a sailor to his knees. With my swearing, you perv!

In other news, I am officially the size of someone with a full term baby. With TWO more months to go. I’ve been reading a blog about a woman with triplets and I’m sitting here going “holy shit, how is my tummy going to expand THAT much more in the next two months???” With that said, I’d also like to say how blessed I am feeling, having gone this far with absolutely no problems, besides random agonizing joint pain and whatnot. And the doctors say I’m doing well. Which is great. Also, I’m weighing in at 171 which is RIDICULOUS. I was walking up the stairs today and trying to figure out why the hell everything hurt so much when WHAM! It hit me. I’m basically carrying around a huge fucking bag of dog food everywhere. No kidding, everything is hurting. *facepalm* I’m not proud at how often this fact surprises the hell out of me.

On a less positive note, I am so SO over this pregnant with twins thing. I have to pee every twenty minutes, my hips are KILLING me, my two boys like to shove my ribcage and headbang my vagina, I’ve developed strange cravings for tuna fish po boys with cheese, mayo and pickles from Antone’s (if you knew me, you’d know how completely creepy THAT request has been to my family), leaky boobs, ridiculously swollen feet and constantly being dehydrated. Not that anyone needs to know this but GOODBYE sex drive. Wow, even I get that was an overshare. HI DAD! Grrr, this makes me so angry. I am the quintessential hungry hungry hippo. Not cool. Beating the shit out of someone sounds delicious.

Mike proposed. I’m sure y’all figured that out by now, what with the crush/fiancé letter, but he did! And it still kind of blows my mind, looking at this ring. Which is now hanging around my fucking NECK because my hands are swelling. That fact all by itself makes me want to cry hysterically. The swollen feet thing I can sort of handle….but not wearing my shiny engagement ring? What the fucking fuck? At least Mike gets it, so I don’t feel guilty about not wearing it, but I’m kind of frustrated anyway. And at this point, I mean in tears frustrated, not baseball bat frustrated. Although my body does make me feel baseball bat frustrated. So do my ankles. I promise to rave and rant about the proposal and the ring sometime soon, at a time when I’m not feeling so depressed. Soon soon soon.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Day Five- To my Dreams

Dear Dreams,
Um, can we please please PLEASE get cheaper? I can’t afford you, fucking dreams! Well, I can, if I get an Associate’s Degree in nursing at a community college. But I’m not sure I can afford being a wife and a mommy AND get a degree in nursing. So if all y’all could say a prayer to whatever god you believe in to keep Megan strong in her dreams, she’d really appreciate it. It’s hard feeling like my dreams don’t matter any more. And they should. So stay alive, dreams. You are what I hold on to when life gets rough.

Megan

Day Four- To My brother

Dear Little brother,
I love you. And I can’t WAIT until you get old enough. Welcome to years and years of therapy.
That’s what I’m doing,

Megan