sistawendy | Entries tagged with in-laws

The highlight of the last few days: Dinner last night with

bork. He seems to be doing well with lots of things, and he really had it coming.

The lowlight: Yelling at my son this morning for not getting out of bed after being informed of the need to do so three times. He was on the verge of tears, which I haven't seen from him in years. Le sigh. What he's been doing (until, I hope, tomorrow) is setting an alarm on his phone earlier than he really needs to, i.e. for the same time as I do, and ignoring it, or worse yet letting his phone battery drain. Doing what makes sense so seldom even occurs to him. He needs to learn basic adulting, starting a few years ago.

A light, reasonably bright: Ex's dad is supposed to be released from the hospital to a rehab place out in 425-land today. Ex says he's doing better, and that m'boy & I will have to find some time to visit him. Gladly. I'm all about ביקור חולים, yo.

Another light, also bright: Back to the old team at work. Happy about that. I'm lightly touching Elixir. Ew, I'm a hipster!

Current Mood: yes
Current Music: "Over At the Frankenstein Place", RHPS

Everything is coming together for the Burn in that magic, synchronistic way that usually happens on playa. Well, it's coming together in my apartment. I'm still a bit behind schedule in stuffing it into bins and loading it into the Sanctimobile. But I only have, oh, 120 more items left to pack? I'm not planning on panicking, though, until after dinner tonight. M'boy & I have to go out because - you guessed it - the dining table and the floor underneath it are covered with bins & gear.

Speaking of the Wendling, he is right now at the home of his maternal grandfather, Exdad. Exdad has had a couple of transient ischemic attacks, and he's got some bleeding in his brain for which he has surgery scheduled next month. Ex sent our son over there to make sure he's OK. M'boy says he's moving & talking a little more slowly than usual, but I gather the difference isn't drastic. I wish Exdad all the luck. He was always one of my kinder in-laws, and I can tell that Ex is worried sick about him. (I haven't heard from Exbro in a while, but it's safe to assume that he's worried too, and unlike Ex, he's too far away to help.)

This is Hot Pink, signing off until after Labor Day.

Current Mood: busy
Current Music: Rabbit In the Moon, "Out of Body Experience"

I met the woman from Tinder that I may have mention earlier. At the last minute she informed me that she's recently started growing her hair out from chemotherapy (!) and asked if that was going to be a problem. Well, of course not. (From the Dept. of Small World: Her chemotherapy buddy was CSPC founder Allena Gabosch.) She's a bit taller than I am, as advertised, blonde and femme.

We met at the Pride picnic in Volunteer Park - yes, I know Pride is in two weeks, but the picnic is an earlier, less crowded event - and she had this adorable couple of girlfriends with her. She knows one of my co-workers. She's a few inches taller than I am, as advertised, femme, and probably not a psycho killer. We've exchanged digits. Excelsior!

Oh: I also poked my head in at the Goth picnic that was going on right next door. I think that may have been part of the parallel universe of Goths that I glimpsed at the Baltic Room a while back. I'm not completely sure, but I think I saw someone who is Really Not Welcome in my circles.

ETA: Also at the Pride Picnic I ran into J&J, the lesbian couple who adopted me at my first night-before-Pride, coincidentally enough also at the Baltic Room. Always a pleasure. I wish I saw more of them, but they live up in Mill Creek.

Thence through the University of Washington's graduation traffic to the party that Aspiring Ex threw for my son. I got to see neighbors, old family friends, the usual local in-laws, AXBro, and a cousin of AX's whom I hadn't seen since the bad old days. AX, uncharacteristically, did not feed everyone 'til they popped. I'm OK with that in general, but is she losing her Jewish motherhood?

I left without saying goodbye to AXMom while she was busy talking to her daughter. Yeah, tacky, but I just didn't feel like risking the awk. I wasn't picking up as much hostility from her as I expected, though, throughout the weekend.

Despite wearing something cute tonight I'm staying in because of this stupid cold. My throat is sore, I've only just come down off of the last Sudafed I took, and my eyes are skritchy. What kills me is that Much Younger Woman invited me over for Cards Against Humanity, which I love, but my body is telling me that's a really bad idea.

Current Mood: sore, sick, and oogy
Current Location: my desk at the Lake Place

The Wendling has graduated high school. And to think there was a time, when he was first diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome, when his mother & I were worried that it might not happen. Mind you, he's still a long way from independence, which might explain why it hasn't been too emotional an occasion for me.

Aspiring Ex has not wasted time in laying down the post-high school law about how our son is to behave if he is to be a "good roommate". I asked about enforcement provisions. She says she has some in mind. I must say I'm curious about the details.

I have a cold that I probably caught from ~~m'boy~~ my son earlier this week. (Or maybe I caught it from a Queef? Ahem.) Aspiring Ex gave me some much-needed sudafed, which when mixed with alcohol at the celebratory dinner may have made me more entertaining than I really wanted to be.

SistaWendy [to Mr. Right Now]: Don't talk to me about piercings. I have two more words for you: dexterity test.
Natasha*: How about those Seahawks?

I may no longer be fit for the company of straight east siders. Except for Natasha, I'm OK with that.

Speaking of straight people with whom I have not much in common, AXMom was perfectly civil to me even if she didn't say much. I may not have to call upon the LJ brain trust for emergency corpse disposal after all. I must say, Mr. Right Now was awfully handsy with AX right across the table from her. I really should find out if AX ever told her mom they're poly.

Tomorrow: AX throws a party at the old place in the afternoon. I told her she's not allowed to have any last minute decorating emergencies again.

*The code name for my son's first and longest-serving sitter.

Current Mood: sniffly
Current Location: my desk at the Lake Place
Current Music: various ear worms throughout the day

The word from my Aspiring Ex is that one of her cousins has just come out to her parents as a trans girl. This particular cousin is 19 and has been Aspie-flavored since she was a young child, complete with the usual deficits in social skills and therefore friends. She has always been, in AX's words, a weird kid.

AX expressed concern, repeatedly, about the quality & quantity of therapy this cousin might get in college out of state. She didn't use the phrase "just a phase", but she came asymptotically close to it. I called her on her bullpucky. Good grief, the cousin's taking girl 'roids. People who are just in phases* don't do that, at least not for long. And just getting her hands on hormones means she's convinced at least one professional that she's for real.

Fun fact: the cousin's college covers SRS in their student health plan. (!) AX says there are 60 colleges that do.

Apparently the cousin doesn't want to talk to me about trans things because I'm too old. I can't say I blame her too much. I may be talking to her parents soon, though. I certainly hope they're more sensible than AX.

*Being trans or, especially, genderqueer has in recent years been a flavor of the month among younger queers. Other Lambert House grown-ups have observed a few teens who said they were genderqueer, and then decided they weren't after they got pregnant, etc. So yeah, phases happen, but they're vanishingly rare among orthodox binary trans people who seek hormones or surgery.

Current Mood: amused
Current Music: The Posies, "Flavor of the Month"

I took the day off and spent it with m'boy today as a swap with Aspiring Ex for my date with Temptress on Saturday. The Wendling expressed a desire to go to the Nordic Heritage Museum, in Ballard, where we'd tried to go several weeks ago only to arrive right at closing time.

Given that m'boy & I are about as Nordic as tofu, some explanation is in order. The house where AX lived in when I met her, and the neighboring one we lived in when we were first married and when our son was born, are about two blocks from the museum. We kept meaning to go but never got around to it. Before long we were living in Kirkland, so Ballard wasn't exactly convenient. Going there the first time was my idea; the second time was my son's.

I reminded m'boy that the experience of the bulk of Nordic immigrants would have had a lot in common with the latest and largest wave of Jewish immigration, which brought his great-great-grandparents at about the same time. Where the Jews and the Scandinavians part ways, though, is that the latter did their best to pick up where they left off, living, working, and worshiping just as they did in the old countries. I've heard many stories, some from AX's family, of the Jews' determination to do and be something new.

The building that houses the museum used to be a school. It was fun to imagine kids climbing the stairs between the three floors - kids with Nordic names, who might still live in the surrounding neighborhood.

Two words: Lego Valhalla.

Sure, we learned some things at the museum, but I couldn't help noticing how... low-budget and not quite professional it seemed to be. The signs were in several different fonts, and what was written on them had copy errors or was worded clumsily. There was a lone man playing the accordion on the top floor. I think we were the only visitors in the place when we showed up. We lost track of time and left almost half an hour after closing, but nobody bothered to tell us to go. I'd hate to see that museum die, but I wouldn't bet on its being around in another twenty years.

As we were leaving, we participated in a metaphor: to our right, the museum; in the car, the two of us; to our left, an African-looking girl in a headscarf, maybe ten years old, riding a bicycle into a driveway across the street from the museum. Past, present, future.

Current Mood: amused
Current Location: my desk at the Lake Place

But first: a pleasantly small Goth reunion at P's birthday celebration. P & I used to work for the same tech giant, so we'd occasionally have lunch together. As a fellow queer, she fed me a steady stream of educational & titillating book & movie suggestions. She didn't disappoint yesterday: she lent me a collection of kinky lesbian erotica called Say Please. Not only is it likely to be a fun read; I was touched that she loaned me a book that still had her bookmarks in it. I'm going to have to write down their positions.

The main event yesterday, though, was the wedding of Natasha. That's the code name for m'boy's first, best, and longest-serving babysitter. Aspiring Ex & I partway adopted her; she was a precociously organized and responsible teenager who'd lived her whole life in 425-land, and desperately in need of quasi-hipster godparents like us.

The wedding itself? Um, well, OK. Tasteful and a bit... generic. I have my suspicions about whether her new hubby is good enough for her, but as her hipster godparent I would, wouldn't I?

Horrible thing: Natasha is an adoptee. Her siblings are biokids. Neither they nor their parents showed up to the wedding. I don't care how things stood between them. None of them could pause the tackiness long enough to go to a wedding? Good grief! And I didn't know about it until the officiant, the groom's uncle, asked me about it. I knew things were bad between Natasha & her folks, but not this bad.

A dish served cold: AX's mother flew up from San Francisco to come to the wedding. That's fine in itself, but:

Her presence meant the Wendling didn't stay with me this weekend as usual, and I'd forgotten about it so I made a date with Temptress for next weekend involving not inconsiderable time and money.
AXMom & I loathe each other, and there was no way either of us could avoid physical proximity.

I made sure to look extra purty in my Pride dress from last year. AXMom & I sat as far apart as we could at the reception table. Words exchanged? Zero. Eye contact? Measurable in milliseconds.

AX, her mother, another family friend, and m'boy left relatively early because the venue, the Hollywood Schoolhouse in Woodinville, is awfully loud. To tell you the truth, I only stayed half an hour later. It was full of young straight people, and the only person there who I really knew was Natasha, so I just wasn't feeling it.

Oh by the way, AXDad completely spaced it. We were all afraid he might be dead in a ditch or something, but several phone calls from AX & me established that he wasn't.

Current Mood: Avenged?
Current Location: my desk at the Lake Place
Current Music: Michael Jackson, "Don't Stop"

The Coming of Mom is delayed by a whopping forty-four (44) hours. My mom gets to enjoy beautiful Atlanta for two nights because, ultimately, a plane skidded off the runway in Salt Lake City. Then Delta had four gate agents to rebook 350 passengers, thereby enabling Mom to miss a flight to Philly that would have gotten her to me today.

It gets better: Mom left her medications in her checked luggage. She's not supposed to skip a day of some of them.

So now I'm alone in a my squeaky-clean apartment. Le sigh.

And in other old person news, I went over to my Aspiring Ex's dad's last night to get Windows 8.1 on his recently repaired 'pooter. I plugged everything in, but I couldn't connect over his DSL, which he says is provided by - wait for it - AOL. I had to get m'boy home to bed, so I gave him a brain dump of what I did and left it to him. We'll see.

I have to say, though, that even after two TIAs he's more mobile and coherent than his wife. If no one had told me about them I wouldn't have guessed they'd happened.

Current Mood: disappointed
Current Location: my desk at the Lake Place
Current Music: Arcade Fire, "Wake Up"

I've read that paramedics sometimes mark their paperwork with HIBGIA - had it before, got it again. My Aspiring Ex's poor father is back in the hospital and on blood thinners, again due to stroke-like symptoms that appeared when he got up this morning.

Come on, man, don't leave us.

Current Mood: worried

My Aspiring Ex's father has had a stroke, or at least a transient ischemic attack. He's in the hospital right now undergoing tests and recovering his memory rapidly; his motor function isn't obviously affected. AX has asked me to take up some of the slack in driving our boy to activities while she's with her dad. I agreed, natch.

AXdad has always been kind to me, both before and after my big gender switcheroo. He's my favorite of his generation of in-laws, easily. I wish him as complete a recovery as possible, for his own sake and that of his wife, his children, and his grandchildren.

And in shockingly unrelated news, it looks as if I'm about to have three dates in the next six days, all three from OKCupid. There's a first date with a fairly Goth-seeming woman ten years my junior; there's a second date with Cat Lady; and there's a first date with a woman slightly older than I am who contacted me and seems, if you can believe it, more eager than I am. Am I going to single person hell for feeling a bit wary about the older woman?

At the rate I may have to stop bitching about dating. The end of the world may be nigh.

I haven't written in four days because I had a pretty quiet weekend: I cancelled my party plans on Saturday due to crud. Most of Sunday I spent at the old place.

Current Mood: worried
Current Location: my couch at the Lake Place
Current Music: KEXP

M'boy's confirmation was last night. He acquitted himself pretty well with his speech on what it means to be a Jew. He's as good as any kid his age with the content, maybe better, but he's got an Aspie's delivery: rapid monotone speech with no breaks between sentences, zero eye contact. Last night was not the time to point that out to him, though. All of the other seven members of his confirmation class were girls. Smooth move, kiddo.

It occurs to me that that may be the last occasion that I have to darken the door of a synagogue until either a wedding or a funeral. I'm OK with not getting bored out of my skull that way regularly, but I miss some of what it was associated with, namely a relationship and seeing my son every day.

Shallow Fashion Details: see user pic. No hose, strappy chunky black heels.

A fun part if the confirmation for me, though, was when a couple of AX's cousins and one of his grade school teachers showed up. None of them had seen me since before Full Time. I thought I saw a bit of a deer-in-the-headlights look in their eyes as we caught up. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the new normal. It's way more interesting than the old normal.

Current Mood: naughty

Because a) I need more makeup and b) I need more knowledge about makeup, I went to the MAC Store with the Siberian Siren. I got my face done by a professional for the first time ever. The SS is determined to make a proper ~~girl~~ femme out of me, so she couldn't resist kibbitzing, which was easy because the MUA had to deal with appointments, etc.

Snarfed:

Studio Fix - It's a staple for me; I use it almost every day.
A Paint Pot - It's much better concealer than what I had.
A palette of four eye shadows, only one of which was really a nighttime-only. The SS proposed earth tones. I protested that I was too damaged by the 70's to try them, but she prevailed, and as usual in femme matters, she was right.
Brushes. Yeah, I know a bunch of you say to go to art supply stores, and I relayed that. The SS disagrees. So, now I have kinds of brushes that I didn't have before.

Still needed:

liquid eyeliner - I'm out! Hand, staple, forehead!
mascara - I'm not out, but I could run out at any moment. The SS says other brands have better brushes than MAC. I shall investigate.
lipstick - Don't we all need more, always?

The SS & I were supposed to go to a lesbian night at Waid's. She had plans to wear something revealing - reason enough for me to be where she is - so I did the same in solidarity. So, I show up, and take in the hip hop and go-go dancers on the bar for a bit. The SS texts me to say that she hasn't started getting ready because she's been setting up electronics with her sweetie, and could she please have a rain check?

'OK,' sez I, 'It's not really my scene anyway. I'll go to the Merc.'

Ha haaa! The're extending that damn trolley line on Broadway to the south, rendering my favorite parking spaces inaccessible. The blocks nearby are filled with other losers like me, all trolling for spaces. Le sigh. At this point I decide to cut my losses and go home, not least because I had plans for the following morning.

She apologized today, and asked how she could make it up. Mmu hu hwaugh huh hah ha! I'm sure I can think of something.

Nibsbrother's daughter E is up here from California as I type. She's a sweet, grown-up girl, and she's the only niece with whom I have contact, thanks to my sisters. I have to say I enjoyed interacting with a non-Aspie teenager. I love my son, but he can be... draining in ways most other children aren't.

The four of us went to the Tutankhamun exhibit. Yes, we're all familiar with spectacular ancient Egyptian art and funerary goods. I came up with a metaphor for Tut's tomb: it's not a tomb so much as a moving van for the afterlife. Everything he might have needed was there. Freakiest object? The whitewashed wood-and-reed bed that he apparently used in life. (It was kind of narrow and delicate-looking for sex, I thought.)

The overall impression that I got, though, was one of decadence. Ancient Egyptian society did pretty well lasting all that time, but I can't help but wonder if more of their culture would have survived Christianity & Islam if they hadn't poured resources into religious & funerary madness.

Current Mood: chipper
Current Location: my desk at the Lake Place
Current Music: Brendan Perry & Robin Guthrie, "Song to the Siren" on KEXP. Perfect.

The only niece with whom I'm still in contact, Nibsbrother's daughter E, is flying up in a couple of weeks, says Nibs. So naturally, I swapped boy weekends with her. This means I have to rearrange a date, which was easy because K is cool like that; and zappy, which isn't easy because I already moved it once because of the date. I don't like looking like a flake.

Punch line: I have not one but three parties that I want to go to on Saturday night.

Time to shave my legs before I go to the dermatologist.

Current Mood: busy
Current Location: the kitchen table at the Lake Place
Current Music: Macklemore, "Pop Some Tags"

Pah-tayed at

nerdvana last night, and stayed out way too late even though I'd told myself I wasn't going to. (And why wouldn't I? Zappy and work.) I'm enjoying cloven fruit more these days, drinking and eating less, and for the first time ever, I got in the hot tub. No, nobody who's ever been there would have given me any aggro for being a chick with a dick in the hot tub because they're cool like that, but it would have made me uncomfortable. That's why they (used to?) call it gender dysphoria.

Gosh, I was dehydrated for zappy today. I simply can't imagine why. Ahem. That's bad because it makes hair removal more difficult and slower. So, I drank water until I sloshed, and within minutes all was well. Definite progress toward removal of all the little bastards is visible.

Heard from the Young Lady in the Bowler. We're doing the slo-mo schedule tango, and I squee a little every time I hear from her. Yeah, 44 going on 16.

Oh: Nibsmother stayed over the weekend, so I didn't see my son or Nibs. I did get a text from Nibs saying that she needed a drink, though. I get that.

Current Mood: tired but upbeat
Current Location: Shangri La
Current Music: Escort, "A Sailboat in the Moonlight"

Some of you may remember that Nibsmother was one of the few members of my extended family who's been nasty to me since learning about my impending transition. She's flying up here the weekend of the 24th. Apparently, m'boy and Nibs were both on the phone with Nibsmother when she told them that, even though I'll be dogsitting for them one night, she doesn't want to see me at all.

My son called her a bitch.

I'm a little bit proud to say I had no trouble keeping a straight face as I told him that Nibsmother is still his grandmother and he doesn't get to talk to her that way. It came from a place of love for me and a sense of justice, I know, but that's not how you do it, kiddo.

I don't want anyone fighting battles with family members for me. I don't want revenge. I just want it all to stop. In the case of Nibsmother, that's unlikely to happen until she dies. And in the case of my evil Strawberry Blonde Sister, it may kinda sorta happen someday if her kids or circumstances bust her.

P.S.: Which is ~~better~~ less hurtful, being two-faced like Nibsmother, or overtly, viciously hostile like Strawberry Blonde Sister? Oddly enough, Nibsmother wins as far as I'm concerned. If my son had treated ~~IBS~~ SBS like that, part of me might have smiled.

Current Mood: sad
Current Location: the kitchen table at Lhasa
Current Music: 148th Ave. NE

You may remember that yesterday Mom & I nearly ran into Strawberry Blond Sister. Today we came even closer - entirely by accident. Mom, Brunette Sister, and I went to a street fair in downtown Gainesville (Not bad, but it wasn't quite open yet out of deference to several nearby churches.) when we went to the inevitable Starbucks. And who should we see outside but SB sister and her two daughters, about to go to church?

Mom spotted her first and hustled us inside, where we saw SB Sister's hubby M. Groundhog day! SB Sister and I made eye contact for a few milliseconds, with 40' between us, through a window. Yes, I sighed, but it was still hilarious. We speculate that God is poking her.

Oh yeah: the coming out party was yesterday. It was just the three of us plus three of Mom's elderly friends. Never mind my NC-17 stories of Full Time; I couldn't even get a word in edgewise. It was still perfectly pleasant, though, and as a gesture it still stands. At Mom's suggestion, I wore my opera clothes and outdressed everybody else.

Mom hates my white skirt with the black roses. Harrumph! I love it not least because it actually makes me look girl-shaped.

Current Mood: amused
Current Location: Mom's office, originally the TV room

Did a little corruption of the young by going shopping with

fizzgig_bites and her adorably shy 9-year-old daughter. She had one question for me, namely, "How can you be a girl if you're born a boy?"
I asked her, "Do you mean, why do I feel like this or how do I do it?"
"Both."
I told her that it's difficult to explain to anybody who needs it explained. I told her I've known since I was her age at the latest. I told her about hormones, zappy, and voice lessons. But what I didn't tell her about was looking in the mirror and seeing something that nobody else could see, because I'm pretty sure she wouldn't have gotten that.

Mom & I went to pick up Brunette Sister at the little, sleepy Gainesville airport. A barricade forced me to drop Mom off and then park my rental car, but as it happened, Mom saw an SUV drive by with Strawberry Blond Sister's daughter waving at her grandma. SB Sister's husband M was, unbeknownst to him, arriving on the same flight as Brunette Sister. Mom & I had a good laugh at that as we waited in the airport, but SB Sister and her kids waited in the parking lot.

M walked out of the security area, saw me, and blushed. He hugged me, said I looked good and that he'd come over tomorrow if he could get away. M told us, to our mild disappointment, that my sister had told him before he got on the plane that she'd be waiting outside. So, no fireworks this time.

Over pizza from our favorite local joint*, I told Brunette Sister some of my latest news about how I'm essentially an aspiring big pervy gay slut, pursuing Project Girlfriend in places where she would fear to tread. (Read: the CSPC.) She looked a little freaked, but she's still talking to me. We three got her hide-a-bed ready together.

I'll save telling her the post-Full Time stories, which you've already read, for the little coming out party tomorrow. I'll be wearing my opera outfit, of course. Naturally, I'll be sparing my mother's friends any details that could cause medical problems.

*Leonardo's Millhopper. I still had the number memorized: 352 376 2001. They ship anywhere in the lower 48 if you're willing to pay the hefty shipping.

Current Mood: Roffle mayo.
Current Location: Mom's office, originally the TV room
Current Music: "Solsbury Hill". Got my mom to listen to it. :)

Any ~~Mosques~~ Muslim community centers that would have been built nine years and one day ago get built today. Got it? Good.

And shame on any Jew who tries to stop it. Nibs' parents can remember when American Jews were at the receiving end of that kind of treatment.

Yes, burning Korans is and will always be legal in the United States. It is also glaringly stupid, especially in the United States today. If the Korans go up in smoke, so do copies of the New Testament, baybee.

Current Mood: determined
Current Location: the Abbey office

Or, more accurately, a transsexual walks into a suite at the Mariners for her father-in-law's birthday. Like all functions involving Nibsdad, there were a zillion people whose names I was told but will never remember. Nibstepmother told me she thought it best not to tell everyone who was going to be there (You think?) so I quietly filled her in on the schedule, the work sitch, etc. I didn't get to talk to Nibsdad much, but he's OK with it considering: I did not get thrown over the railing into the 100 level at Safeco Field by short Jews. I found out there that a former business partner of his had a horrific marital experience while trying to transition, so that may be part of the reason why he cut me slack. Are we everywhere, or what?

Confession: I like talking about my transition and myself way too much. Luckily, I have LJ for that.

Current Mood: amused
Current Location: the Abbey office
Current Music: Depeche Mode, "Nothing"

A word about dates: Nibs has asked me not to finish moving until after school starts. (So much for motivating myself to finish by Saturday night by moving my club clothes.) The day after school starts just happens to be my fifteenth wedding anniversary. And my chosen Full Time date, December 13th? Despite being chosen for practical reasons, that just happens to be the seventeenth anniversary of when Nibs & I met.

Oof. I sure know how to pick 'em.

Nibsmother has apologized to Nibs for her earlier behavior, none of which I actually saw. I feel better about her now.

Nibstepmother thought I was going to show up to the Mariners game on Monday en femme. She didn't manage to read everything Nibs wrote. Heh.

How I know I'm a Real Woman®: I'm starting to hate bras.

Doc says my estrogen levels are over 1200. (I assume the units are pg/ml.) He isn't worried about it, but that's apparently several times higher than the typical monthly peak for women with working ovaries. No wonder I feel so good.

He is, however, worried about my potassium level. Solution? More fluids. No kidding: I've learned that the occasional dizziness and tingly leg cramps mean "Drink now!" Thanks, spiro!

Current Mood: busy
Current Location: the Abbey office
Current Music: Kate Bush, "Moving"

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Maura's Illuminated Manuscript

Non-Papal Bull

Entries tagged with in-laws

bright lights, big city

T-18 hours; dad of Ex

ladies, in-laws, and more ladies

My son has finished high school.

I may be contagious.

Uff Da behind glass

Nun marries off secret agent Natasha, gets revenge on an evil in-law.

people older than I am having bad days

Axdad is back in the hospital.

of blood clots and pheromones

the long, ever-growing tail of comings out

Siberian Siren Saturday; niece & pharaoh Sunday

temporal Tetris

(no subject)

I don't need that kind of defense.

We're out to get her, apparently.

wacky hijinks in Florida

KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON

A transsexual walks into a ball park.

moving, in-laws, and a side order of hormones