An old post – I wanted to write even prior to making the bun in the oven news public.

It’s been so long – once again, since I’ve posted. I’ve spent the last 3 months with one singular focus: trying not to puke. There’s a part of me that wonders if this isn’t some evolutionary attention getter. Voice on high: You will focus on nothing else other than you, your digestion and the well being of your child. Knitting? God who cares. In depth mind processes aka thought? Who has the energy.

I did stumble upon something that I wish I would have tried a long time ago: Sea sickness bands. I’m not sure what took me so long. But it was the late night session of being face down in my toilet after a rather greasy noodle meal at lunch and the 5th episode of Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations, that was the clincher. I would try anything to avoid feeling this way, even if it was to resort to a harmless yet not proven accupressure method. (And to avoid watching cooking shows when all I can manage to put down is a bowl of Cream-o-wheat.).)

I’m happy to say that I’ve felt so much better this week (Update: this wasn’t to last but the respite was nice). With the bands, and some other modifications: I essentially ate nothing of color for the first few days after the puke incident and proceeded to eat nothing warm (and thus smelly) – cold food only: fruit, and my current mainstay – sushi. I’ve eaten non-raw sushi for probably every other meal this week. I must confess I’m getting a bit sick of it. But it’s held me together. It digests easily, has vegetables, and occasionally protein.

It’s been such an insular focus, and oddly I feel like the most uninteresting person on the planet given all my thought and energy is going into the not puking and reading all that I can on birthing and preparing for giving birth. Yes, I’m jumping the gun a bit, but I’m trying to figure out where and how I want to have this kid. It’s been relatively all consuming. I have managed to squeeze some news reading in, riding my bike to work a bit more, and am planning to go to an art show with a friend tonight so the horizons are widening. But it’s been a strange state: The one thing that is consuming my attention and focus and every bodily function is something that is the biggest secret. Because I refuse to make it all public, especially at work, until I’m out of the miscarriage woods.

Meanwhile I feel like I do my weird rituals to keep from puking: like eating saltines like they’re going out of style, drinking lemonade like it’s the nectar of the gods, and not removing my sea-bands except for showers and sleep. I have a fear that I’ll wake up one morning to find my hands pinched off – two bloody stubs with a form of sophisticated rubber band wrapped around each.

Which by the way brings up the issue of rituals. I never was superstitious until I mountain biked. I think it was the lack of confidence in my own abilities. I couldn’t depend on myself to win a race, but if I did everything just so, and I had my lucky string with me – like the first time I won a race – well, then, I could win another one. And so it went. Same with the nausea and “morning sickness” (There’s a special hell awaiting the asshole who named this ‘morning’ sickness – since it strikes most folks, including myself, all day long.) Since I’ve put on my sea-bands god help the person who tries to wrench them from my body to wash them. I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to ask my Felipe to wash them while I sleep.

So I told the folks at work yesterday that I’m having a kid. I had been guarding my secret as best as someone can who snarfs down saltines all day, is really finicky when it comes to choosing lunch spots, and who seems to have lots of flu-like symptoms. Again. It went well. I’m not sure why I was intimidated. I think if anything, I’m relatively private about some things (I know, I can hear folks who know me chortling from here. But seriously!) and telling someone something like that just felt strange to say the least. But I actually discussed so many things with them that it set me at ease.

That said it’s made it all so real. I went from zero-to-pregnant in one day. I had been waiting to pass the 12 week mark just to be on the safe side. And now all of the sudden it feels like that day I peed on the stick all over again.

Very exciting. I have more to write, but given I’ve been up since 4 am, I think I’ll wait until I’m coherent. I do have one post I wrote prior to “going public” that I’ll post. But hoping I’ll do more updating here, because it seems like I’m always astonished during this experience with the changes. From simple things like my insanely intense dreams to seeing an ultrasound for the first time. It’s already been a crazy ride.

So the other day I went to one of the carts downtown. It’s one of my favorites and I was one of the reasons they started using a number system – they accidentally gave my food to someone else. But I digress. Upon receiving my order they paid me my change in all ones. As he was counting it back it seemed like he must have given me an extra dollar, so as soon as I moved from the window, I went to a table to recount the change. As I was just beginning this process, a gentleman approached and asked me for money. I’ve been known lately to hand over duckets on the street. After living in Berkeley for several years I got really jaded, and stopped giving to folks on the street completely. But several months ago, I gave some money to the guy who walks around in a blanket with the matted hair. That guy has a special place in my heart. And also stupidly gave some money to a young girl who claimed to “be stuck in Portland after coming here from Seattle for an internet date” that went awry and now she needed a hotel room. Well, I could identify with that. How many of us haven’t been stuck in another state due to a crappy internet date. Oh. Just me?

Call me naive, but I was really hoping her story was true. But then several days ago I saw her again, and she asked me again for money. Which doesn’t necessarily mean she was lying it could just be really hard to get money to get back to Seattle. I’m just sayin’. So all that said. I’ve become jaded again. And when Mr. Man accosted me, I was a little annoyed. I didn’t show it, but I did say, holding a fistful of dollar bills, “No, Sorry.” He responded, to the air behind me, “I’m just trying to buy some lunch. And I’m just short a dollar.” Hoping I would sense the universal irony in my evilness. I went back to counting.

After lunch I went with spaceninja for a walk to the RiteAid just up the street. On our way back, Mr. Man stops us and speaks to spaceninja, “So how about this. If you needed money, and you asked me I would give it to you.”
Spaceninja: “I’m sorry, I’m not following.”
Mr. Man: Repeats himself, a little more agitated.
I stand there quietly. I knew where this passive aggressive diatribe was going, and I could speak up, but figured it would just exacerbate the situation if I spoke to the earlier thing. So I sat tight.
Spaceninja: “Sir, are you mad at me?”
Mr. Man: “Uh no.” Realizing somewhat that the plan of attack is backfiring as he’s approached the most well-adjusted person in Portland. “No I was just saying if you ever needed money…”
Spaceninja: “Oh. Ok. Sorry.”

We walk away. And I explain to spaceninja my earlier karmic infractions that had led to his trouble.

I felt bad for like a second. I mean I would never enjoy my friends having to deal with my choices with the homeless folks, but seriously, dude – I’m just not giving money on the street today, ok? I don’t explain myself to you, I don’t need you to explain yourself to me.

But later I realized it was a classic example of passive aggressiveness! I had never experienced that on the street before. With my mother? Yes. Seen it taken to an artform in the hands of the Lebanese mother of a guy I dated once. Yes. A homeless guy? Never. Until today. Kudos, Mr. Man.

It’s been a month of identity crisis here at the ranch.  What with my site getting hacked – due to my inattention, no doubt – not keeping up with WordPress versions and not changing my passwords frequently enough.  Please if you have a site and haven’t done these things – take me as a lesson.  I had really not taken it all seriously enough.  The good news is it’s made me re-evaluate why I have a site to begin with.  I do it in large part as an obligation.  I’m a web person.  I can’t “not” have a site.  But that said, I want to make it something I enjoy – other than just a receptacle for a portfolio and a resume.  So I’ve taken this site down to the bare bones.  Just the blog, and hopefully over time I can add back the portfolio and decide on a template or a design of my own to fit the bill.  Until then I’m hoping to just try and write.  And do less writing about writing!

However before I do that, I will write about writing one last time!  I finished NaNoWriMo and didn’t keep up with the week 4 follow up.  Mostly due to having lofatmo in town, and partially just moving on with life.  But I know one thing is for certain:  I’m having withdrawls.  I miss the desire to get up at 5 or 5:30 to bang out my 2-3K words.  It gave me purpose and it sent me off to my day job with a sense of purpose, and feeling like I had already accomplished a personal goal so the rest of the day’s doings were just gravy.  That anything was possible.  That maybe, just maybe, I could be something other than a web person by trade.  Not that that’s bad.  I just always hope there will be something else. It also seemed to make sure I did exercise, and I achieved more balance in my life during that month than I probably do on a day to day basis during the rest of my life.  Sad, I know.  But true.  I would make sure to ride my bike to work at least 2-3 days a week, usually the first two days of the week, as I knew I would peter out and spend more time writing as the week drew to a close.

That said, I also revelled in time wasters.  I did more chores that I vowed I hated or would never do during November, due to NaNoWriMo, than I ever swore I would.  I re-activated my Facebook account.  I got in touch with people I’ve been meaning to contact since I dropped off the face of their earth 3, 5, 10 years ago.  I fixed my website – cleansing it from hacker attacks 3, nay 4 times.  Took a watercolor class, a fiction class and started up another small mosaic project.  Note to self, if I want to be more active in visual arts, just take up a ridiculous writing task, and watch the pieces fall into place.

After taking a few weeks off – I finished this thing really during the third week of Nov so that I could relax with company during the holidays – I decided to climb back on the horse this morning.  At the urging of boegle, I started – if somewhat half-heartedly – the revision process.  I keep telling myself I need to read this thing in one sitting, and maybe I do to get the full story arch and see all of it’s pitfalls and fiascos.  But I’m slightly glad that I’m not just tossing it into the trashbin.  As I’ve heard that happens.  And maybe this will be the story that never gets told, but the characters are interesting to me.  So I think for now, I’ll keep visiting them.