I take it out on everyone around me.

Dear Mr Dreadful,



I know you only occassionally read my blog, because in your chivalry you think it somewhat akin to spying on me, and think that should I have have the want... I should have somewhere to bitch and complain about you without having to justify it.



By this time I'm sure you've figured out that if I have something to bitch or complain about, I do it to your face, because what good is being pissed off if you dont know it???





But I feel the need to both Thank You and apologize to you for a couple of things.



First,

I am sorry that the athletic energetic girl you fell in love with and embarked on this "life" with is exhausted ALL the time and you pretty much have to run the house now...AND walk the dog in this crappy summer heat.

And I thank you for never one time complaining about it.



I'm sorry I am such a stroppy cow.

Yesterday at the renal ultrasound I had to pee REALLY bad (as you know)

And it was hot, and that farking eejit in the blue Monte Carlo parked too close to me.

A half dozen things that were not your fault, but I snapped at you for anyway.



Thank you for accepting my weird little jinxy habits about this pregnancy.

It seems like every bizarre request I have had of you, you have done your best to fulfill.

From coming to my doctors appointments with me to listening via stethascope to my tummy every night.



For the seemingly endless stream of terrified tears I have cried, that you have let me weep it out, handed me a tissue and told me we will be fine, I cannot thank you enough.

Just remember at the end of this road you will have a beautiful child, and I love you.

(yeah yeah..barf)

Cue the disco ball...

Last weekend was my class reunion...my 20 year class reunion.



A less than auspicious occasion I was content to let pass like a painful but small kidney stone.



It was held a nearby swanky hotel, the plan being Friday evening was a cocktail/informal meet and greet at the hotel bar (gratis) followed on Saturday evening by the official "grand" event.



My plan was to miss the entire experience, my dear friend since early development planned to attend just the Friday night do.

Of course she calls me at 11:00 friday night drunk as a skunk telling me how much fun they're having and how it just isn't the same without me.

Haaaa I doubt that, since I could very well have been voted the girl you least likely remember going to high school.

But those pesky pregnancy hormones got to me, and made me all weak.

So I slipped into a slinky red dress that showed by big belly to its best (smirk) and toddled off to see how the classmates have fared.

The guys are all skeevy old guys. Either fat or just creepy (drug usage in the late eighties/early nineties not kind)

And the women? Well most are divorced and trying to convince everyone how thrilled they are with this..but one...a rather athletic lass..bleached her hair and got new boobs!

And she is still a bitch!

God I hated high school.