Trying to put on a happy Monday face

First off, I need to update my Blog-A-Ma-Roll since there are so many of you I read daily now (even if I don't get the chance to comment as often as I'd like), who weren't on there previously. So I promise to do so tomorrow...ok, maybe Tuesday. Monday nights tend to mainly consist of "how-quickly-can-I-undress-and-get-to-bed" these days.

Secondly, since it's Sunday night, and you know how I do enjoy being depressed at such a time (although I must say that this week's existential crisis actually occurred in the MORNING, so we're all done now), I just had to give you guys a few links to both frighten and then hopefully inspire.

My sorority always did say to end on a positive.

*Now, if this doesn't scare the shit out of you, I don't know what will. I can't tell you how much I worry for future generations of women.

*First you split with your longtime fiancee, now this. Get well, Ms. Crow.

*I am sad the Olympics are over, and I think I have an itty bitty crush on Apolo Anton Ohno. No, actually, I just think he has the most gorgeous teeth I have ever seen. I'm just jealous.

Oh, and if I were a gay man, I would be ALL OVER that Johnny Weir. Always did like the iconoclasts.

*This story made me cry. I love that kind of feel-good stuff...can't help it.

Everybody have a good week ahead, and keep kicking ass!

Makes you want to sing the Golden Girls theme, doesn't it?

I can't believe how kind and generous you all have been. Well, I can, given that I've gotten to know you all by now. And you're pretty amazing people. What the freakin' hell would I do without you? Through EVERYTHING.

I am still semi-against the begging for baby money thing...but it's nice to know there are people in the world who would even consider donating to such a thing.

Notice I said semi.

But now, I just can't bring everybody down any more. Yeah, I know I've said that before. I'm just feeling like I'm losing you guys with all my pathetic downer of all downer posts these days. (Well, except for the times I get to talk about The Man Who Makes Me Want To Be A Better Woman.)

So here's my attempt at a version of all of your wonderful "100 Things About Myself" postings (there's no way I can come CLOSE to the FANTASTIC things you've written!):

Ten Things I've Learned About Myself, Having Gone Through All Kinds Of Crap Lately:

1. I actually really want a baby...more than I ever realized. But if it doesn't happen, I will be thankful for what I DO have.

2. Going back to work should have been a good thing for me. And it mostly is. Except for when it's Sunday night and I have panic attacks because I'm not good enough. Self esteem is a hard fought battle for me. Always has been. I'm working on it.

3. Having no money on Valentine's Day sucks. But having the best Valentine in the world makes up for it. I honestly have times where I feel guilty for having him.

4. When I wonder why God would want anyone to have four miscarriages, I realize I'm being selfish. I never thought I'd get to that point, but I have seen enough women on various sites telling of far worse. My heart breaks for them.

5. My family and my friends are as important to me as the air I breathe.

6. I can wallow in self pity if I feel like it at times, and no one gets mad at me. That's something everyone should be able to do.

7. When I see injustice... you do NOT want to tangle with me. For someone who is generally known as being "too nice", I will fight to the death for what I believe in. That includes gay rights, animal rights and reproductive rights. I thank Mom for the backbone when it counts.

8. I have much more than others. Not as much as some. I'm ok with that for now, but I won't give up trying for what I want.

9. I know how to love and be loved. I'm proud that I don't hold it in.

10. I really, really miss my kitties. I wish I could cuddle with them when I'm sad. Or happy, for that matter.

To all of you...thank you for being my friend.

HMO stands for Horribly Mean Ogres

I should be in a really good mood considering I can sleep in tomorrow. Ohhhhhh, how I love to sleep. I crave it like candy.

One of the things I love about being in banking is how many holidays we observe. Mr. Blogger, being a Brit, however, cannot understand this concept of some people (me) getting a day off, and some people (him) having to work. In his country...EVERYBODY'S OFF DAMMIT.

Sorry Honey.

Anyway, I feel really pissed off and I've been trying to shake it all weekend, but it just seems to be festering.

You see, after I went to the OB/GYN appointment last week, wherein she could only suggest additional blood tests and couldn't remember anything we had already done, the point was for her to refer me to the RE/high risk doc. We were hoping that I would be able to get in by the time my blood results came back and then go from there.

But noooooooo.

I give you the following letter received Saturday...(verbatim here folks...CAPS INCLUDED)

Dear Blogger, Brooke A.:

We have received the request for service from the above provider/physician. This notice is to inform you the service is being denied. This determination was made based upon our review of your health condition in relation to Stupid Shits HMO conditions of coverage and/or medical necessity criteria, and in accordance with the terms and conditions of your Evidence of Coverage, Exclusions & Limitations section.

ACCORDING TO YOUR HEALTH PLAN, INFERTILITY CONSULTATION IS NOT A COVERED BENEFIT. PLEASE REFER TO YOUR EVIDENCE OF COVERAGE FOR ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.

Blah blah blah fucking blah.

Yeah, ok. No problem. That was just our last hope, is all. And we can't afford to finance that particular doctor privately. And we SURE as hell can't afford the $15,000 it's going to take for IVF (yes, I know the "getting pregnant" part isn't our issue per se, but IVF was recommended to us in that they'll weed out my best eggs, add them to MB's best swimmers, shove a half-dozen or so of the results up there, so my chances would be greater of at least ONE sticking this time).

Basically, my HMO can just go suck it.

We went out to dinner with Emily and G/\R*E tonight and Gary jokingly suggested placing a "Donate to My Infertility Fund" PayPal button on the blog. The man may have an idea there...hmmm....

Nah. I couldn't ask for it, even as badly as we need it.

I'm just so pissed that it isn't even approved to SEE the damn doctor, before we even get to any procedures.

So that puts us back to "just keep trying". And then what, I ask. Just keep miscarrying?

And I thought I was depressed Friday night when we got home from seeing Brokeback Mountain.

A quick Valentine's Day story

(Yes, I realize that may be misconstrued as Mr. Bulger (hmmm...maybe not so bad), or Mr. Bilger (which conjures dirty water to me for some reason...ick) , but you get the jist.)

Since I went back to work and have only recently started to feel like a real live human being after The Sickness, I have a tendency to come home, put on my jammies and collapse. Oh...and just to make life with me even more of a roller coaster, I went back to having panic attacks this weekend. I'm a whole lot of fun to be with. You sure wouldn't want to be married to me...BELIEVE me.

So when I asked MB what we were doing for the big red day, he kept saying not to worry and that he had made plans. Honestly, part of me wanted to just get take-out, and as the day went on it only got worse.

My feet hurt, my nylons had run, and my suit made me really hot and uncomfortable all damn day. I even tried texting him with "Don't forget I have to be home by 8:00 for the Olympics!" and again I was told not to worry.

My husband is a big puppy dog about these things and you just can't bear to disappoint him. He loves to go out. He loves to eat. And most of all he loves to dote on me. I'm not stupid...that's not something to be messed with. Let the man take you out, Brooke. Put on a happy face and THEN come home and collapse.

So as I walked in the door, he sighed heavily. He sounded upset.

You see, he got home late and I got home early.

He had it all planned.

Italian bread, fresh mozzarella and tomatoes for an appetizer.

Veggie loaf, fresh broccoli and mashed potatoes for dinner (my FAVORITE meal in the world).

Strawberries for dessert, champagne (for him) and Martinelli's sparkling apple cider (for me).

It was all on the counter but he hadn't had a chance to cook it yet.

I didn't have to go out and I could wear my jammies.

He then ran out, put gas in my car (I couldn't bear to go out again), and has now come back to start dinner. I'm not doing a DAMN THING.

So to my husband from your wife of many issues...

"I love you" isn't enough.

"I need you" doesn't convey it.

"I can't live without you" is obvious.

Plainly said, you give me peace. And you know how hard it is for me to find that.

I don't know how to repay you, but I will never stop trying.

Random commenting from the Sicky Who Never Blogs Anymore and Hates Herself For It...

*Yes, I turned out to be very sick. Work sucked. Life sucked. Health sucks. Ability to form interesting, coherent postings sucks.

I'm getting better, but still can't swallow. No dirty comments, please.

*The kitties in the last post were not mine, although I wish they were. I miss my kitties. Ex-husband got custody when I moved to London. But see more of the Supercats here.

*Went for my follow up appointment with OB (post-miscarriage check up) and she didn't remember anything about me. I had to give her time to catch up on my chart. She suggested an HSG...had to remind her we did that already. Ok, how about an endometrial biopsy? Did that one too, Doc. You know, 'cause they were so much fun the first time.

She's giving me more blood tests instead. But didn't they take SEVENTEEN TUBES OF BLOOD OUT OF ME after last year's miscarriage (the last time she saw me)? Is she secretly a vampire?
Oh, and I have to wait two whole freakin' periods to start again. THE CLOCK IS TICKING LADY.

Lissa has offered up a uterus transplant. Wish I could take her up on it. No, REALLY.

*Thank you for all the low-cost Valentine's Day ideas. They were quite helpful, but I don't know if I can wait that long to try Melanhead's chocolate-covered strawberry recipe. MMMMMMM...

I'm working on something that The Man Who Reads My Blog and Everyone Else's cannot see. I'll tell you later.

*I'm currently flipping back and forth between a VERY close UCLA/Washington basketball game and the Olympics. It's a tough call...I LOVE the Olympics. I'm addicted really. And I don't know how I'm going to get myself to stay up every night to see the coverage.

They're showing ski jumping right now...perfect Telemark landing! (See, you only learn phrases like that during the games!) Doesn't it look like ski jumping would be fun? But then you remember The Agony of Defeat.

Oh, and figure skating is a long, long, LONG-held obsession. I took lessons for a while and I can tell you...looking pretty in full makeup and sparkly outfits while (practically) running a marathon is FREAKIN' HARD, people. (I'm so worried about Michelle Kwan.)

*The Grammys were OK. I was happy Kelly Clarkson won a couple. (Especially for Rock.) SOME people need to stick to singing in the studio however.

* American Idol is onto the final cuts. How am I supposed to keep up will all this programming?! I need a TiVo.

The little cowboy is so sweet. I want to protect him from big bad Hollywood. I don't think he'll make it far, but all that crying and singing to turkeys just endears him to me.

*Mr. Blogger is home from taking Emily some pills for her back (and going all the way to The Company With No Soul to deliver them) and getting me bagels. I love that he loves me, and I really love that he loves my friends. He would do anything for anyone.

Have I mentioned how much I love him?

Maybe I should just give him this blog as a V Day present.

From falling to flying

I'm getting there folks. If nothing else, I feel pretty good about how the week went overall and I think I'm doing pretty well. But as usual, there's more to say. SO.....

Things that make me mad....

1. I'm sick. I just have a stupid cold, but to make life more fun, I can't move my neck or shoulders from the excruciating pain. Mr. Blogger tried to rub it out and I was screaming. Consequently, I won't be able to write much since it hurts to move. But I'll be damned if I go much longer without blogging.

2. They have just scheduled me for teller training (no, I'm not a teller but everybody has to learn the system) on the day that I was supposed to have my follow up appointment with my OB about the miscarriage. Now I'll have to change my appointment. Grrr....

Things that make me sad...

1. What's with all the couples splitting up these days? Does no one want to stick it out anymore? And now I hear that both Denzel Washington and Madonna are on the verge of splitsville (to their respective spouses) as well. Hmmmm....they would make an interesting couple together though.

2. Valentine's Day is coming and I have no money to spend on MB. Any ideas?

3. I need to figure out how to spend more time blogging, since I feel like everyone is going to forget about me. I would be super duper sad to lose all my new friends. Did I mention that my mother just loves all of you? That's no faint praise, let me tell you.

Things that make me happy / laugh...

1. I got a card in the mail from Nancy (Mom / Ma'am / Me) and it was lovely and heartfelt and I can't thank her enough. But THANK YOU!!

2. This video says everything about why I managed to stay up until 11:00 ONE NIGHT last week, because I was NOT going to miss Project Runway.

3. Supercat, up there, makes me want to fly (courtesy of Cute Overload).

4. Emily and Madge are preggers. You can't get much better than that.

Have a good week ahead everybody!!!

Alive...barely

OK, you guys. I'm here. You all rock immensely...have I told you that enough lately? 'Cause you need to hear it more. You're one of the few bright spots in my day.

I wanted SO BADLY to read and catch up with everyone, and I did, but I haven't yet been able to comment. And I need to be in a better state of mind to really reply properly. Please don't hate me. You've all written some amazing posts as of late and I am with you in spirit.

My writing sucks from utter and complete exhaustion. I apologize profusely.

I can't even begin to tell you how tired I am. My right eye keeps twitching. My contacts are stuck to my eyeballs. My legs ache and my feet are throbbing.

Every night I've made it home, only to be able to strip off my clothes, wash my face and crash. I'm personally just impressed I can even do that...it HAS occurred to me to just go to bed in my clothes.

I forgot how exhausting work is. I forgot how much fun it was to sit home all day and read blogs.

I don't dislike the people or the place. (And yes, I realize I'm on the verge of Doocification if I'm not careful.) It's ok.

And to see my happy peppy self just SO ENTHUSIASTIC and SO HELPFUL AND FRIENDLY TO EVERYONE...you'd never know I was anything less than THRILLED TO BE THERE!!!

People seem to like me. I seem to be catching on. I work my ass off and have been there at least 10 hours a day each day.

But I can't help but wonder...are there people out there who LOVE their jobs? What do THEY do?

And it's only Wednesday.