This entry will be more housekeeping in nature. Goodness knows, I don’t want you lovely readers to miss one single second of my enormously fabulous life.
The last four days consisted of:
1. A really fun sushi dinner with Hubs and his friend. I knew there was no way I had ovulated, so salmon and yellowtail were all mine…MINE. Actually, I know this may be taboo in some circles, but I most likely will not give up sushi completely during pregnancy should I be able to conceive my own little personal handroll. The millions of Japanese women who rely on fish as a staple seem to have happy, healthy babies all the time.
2. After the sushi dinner, we hung out at our house for a little while. Hubs played piano and we sang Jesus Christ Superstar and a really bad version of “No Day But Today” from Rent. Then Hubs’ friend left and we sang Little Shop. Damnit that musical is near perfect. Seriously. I cry a little bit inside when I think that I will never come close to writing a musical like that.
3. After about 10 years of swearing it off due to the fact that it makes me highly paranoid, anxietal, and jittery, Hubs and decided to smoke weed together for the first time (what am I, 12?). I should preface the whole weed smoking thing with the fact that I have a sister who lives in San Francisco (not the uber fertile one in Santa Cruz) who is a bit of a pot connoisseur. After explaining to her my woes about feeling like I need a straightjacket every time I smoked, she pulled out this elaborate chart which explained the nuances of weed (who knew!) and then promptly got me a bag of something that smelled like a skunk up and died in there. The stuff I used to get as a teen was basically glorified oregano, so I was 110% convinced that this medicinal grade stuff would multiply my paranoia ten fold and have me shivering in a corner somewhere. Au contrair, mon frairinas! Whatever the hell nuance this weed was, it was the calmest, most relaxing, kick back on the couch, world is my oyster kind of experience I’ve ever had with the stuff. Hubs and I watched “Zapped” (starring a post-Chachi, pre-Charles in Charge Scott Baio), laughed stupidly at the gratuitous boobs in the movie, and ate Skinny Cows. I’m not saying I’ll be a full time pot head now, but damnit, that was a relaxing way to spend a Saturday night.
4. I ran 7 miles on Saturday and could barely walk the rest of the weekend. However, Hubs admired/squeezed my butt and said something along the lines of, “Damn, that butt is awesome.” The comment left me giddy.
5. We hosted a BBQ for 12 friends on Monday. In the process of cleaning the patio furniture , we came across a big bunch of these under the corner of a couple of chairs:
After trying to release them from their webs to clean the chairs…I spotted a motionless spider curled up in a crevasse next to what I now assumed to be spider eggs. I tapped the wood near its body and it didn’t budge.
Me: I think it’s dead.
Hubs: (shakily) Umm…I don’t know. I wouldn’t touch it.
Me: (tapping the wood near it) See? Not budging.
Hubs: (eerily calm) I just Googled “black widow eggs” and this image came up.
Hubs and I turned to look at each other.
Hubs: I hate nature.
Armed with a can of Raid and huge purple rubber kitchen gloves, Hubs did his manly duty and sprayed the chair. As soon as he did, the spider I thought was dead (and was basically taunting with my stupid twig) jumped out of its nest. In a hail of Raid fury, Hubs sent the widow to its maker. Upon further internet searching, we found out that it was actually a brown widow, not a black widow, and we felt bad the rest of the day for killing an innocent spider who did nothing wrong but build her nest under our cheap patio furniture.
6. I took my Day 21 blood test yesterday (it was technically Day 23, but given the holiday weekend, it was the best I could do.) I’ll find out the results of progesterone and estradiol levels today.
Hope everyone had a relaxing weekend!