Yesterday

As far as I can tell, I am still alive, therefore I must have survived yesterday.

I only cried twice.. at the shower, at least. I might have made it the whole shower if Jenn didn't waddle towards me, sobbing with her arms outstretched. Both times! But twice is good. Oh I definitely could have cried more, especially with mr. newborn baby boy sitting next to me and STARING at me. I would glance over at him and casually notice his little feet and tiny hands, then I'd look up and there were his big eyes, just staring right back at me.. tears began to well then I'd immediately look away, at my food, engrossed in my sandwich. mmm, samich. This lettuce here needs some adjusting. Hmm, the underside of this bread is very intriguing, oh and look at the top piece! So interesting. Oh, hey, there are cheetos on my plate. They probably need to be organized...   then the tears would subside, I could look at other people again, possibly say a word or two, and then my eyes would drift back to those little feet.....

And that's when I went to the bathroom. Although, mr. newborn's mom mentioning that her sister is now pregnant did not help to keep me at the table. I didn't cry in the bathroom (as you should know from above), I just needed to escape. Thank you, Lauren, for coming  to check up on me just in case.   But I did come back to the table. I cleared the plates, and I must have occupied myself a little longer because then it was game time. This time a thank you goes out to Andrea for keeping me amused with our franken-b-a-b-y.  I also must thank my camera for, um, being a camera and allowing me to take pictures with it. Hiding behind a plastic box is so much easier than talking to people!

Anyway.. I survived. It was weird, and awkward, and sad, and depressing, yet I laughed and in general had a good time.

As you know, good moments -> bad moments  (that would be a pointer in the middle there) and vice versa. Oh man last night was AWFUL!

So, Keith wanted to see Fast Five. Or fast and the furious five.. whatever they are calling it. I didn't really care about seeing it cuz it's a stupid car movie, but I figured it might help get my mind off of things. HA. Ha. ha. Lately I have been getting VERY annoyed at movies and tv shows that are not realistic enough (must be why I lean towards reality shows). I won't spoil it for anyone who wants to torture themselves with this movie, but I was ready to leave the theater after 2 minutes. Now, I am a person who always stays and watches the whole thing, and I always find something good in a movie, something amusing, at least. If the first two minutes makes me want to leave, what the hell is the rest going to be like? Answer: the rest will make me want to take a machete to the writers' throats.

I. was. so. pissed. the entire movie. I was angry, I wanted to cry, I was exhausted, I just did not want to be there. But I stayed, because Keith really wanted to see this and I figured if I stared at the floor long enough my mind would turn off and I wouldn't have to hear that god damn awful dialog anymore.   What could have prompted these emotions? Imagine this.. a woman, who is maybe 2 months pregnant, is running around with her baby daddy on rooftops in Rio de Janero. Angry men are running after them and shooting at them with machine guns and what have you. Mommy and daddy get to the edge of a roof and look down.. oh my! A 30 foot drop to the next rooftop! They look back and see the zombie gunmen getting closer (although they always seem to miss.. hmm). The logical thing is obviously to jump. Ok, fine. They jump, they land on the roof, which thusly breaks (because it's crappy metal crap or something (yes, crappy metal crap)) and they fall another 10 feet or so to rubble or concrete or whatever. You don't actually see them land or get up or anything, but moments later they're running again, as if nothing happened. No broken bones, cuts, scrapes, twisted ankles, or dead fucking babies. Nope. The nonsense continues (I don't have enough time in the world to get mention all of it), and throughout the movie the happy parents keep gushing about their supposedly alive baby, driving cars maniacally through the city, getting chased by more zombie gunmen (they don't die! and they come back to life!) and then everything is all jelly beans and gum drops at the end because you get to see her with her ginormous pregnant belly making out with her hubby on the beach. We have to assume that she has the baby and that it's born alive because it's the movies and nothing is real in the movies. I could only think about her not having a fucking miscarriage. She can jump off of a building and she AND her baby can survive. Sorry rock, if you read this, but I would LOVE to see amniotic fluid cushion her that much. Mine couldn't survive a god damn infection.

Annnnnd that's why I think I'm in the anger stage......