Early this morning, I dreamed that I I had a child. A boy.
In my dream, he was just pushing himself up to stand, perhaps even attempt a step or two for the first time. I looked at a person who was witnessing the event with me and we both just stared in wonder. "Isn't this amazing?" Yes. We both agreed. Amazing. What a wonderful moment.
Later I picked up the little one. He hugged me. Put his head on my shoulder. Called me by my first name. "No, that's mommy," someone corrected. "Mommy," he dutifully repeated. I was heartbroken. Still am.
**
This gestational surrogacy - it is doing my fucking head in. And we are not even close to starting.
After a long talk, a lot of tears, several attempts at a letter, and some soul searching, we are not going to draft a letter to family and friends to see if anyone wants to come along on this journey with us. We may change our minds, but right now moving forward with an agency seems like the best approach.
A, because of timing. To reach out to family or friends feels like it would prolong this process indefinitely. Because it's their time line, not yours. You can't ask someone to get their medical records in the mail and then be angry with them when its taking a while when hey, they are doing YOU an enormous (understatement) favor. Plus, I am just not sure the average person knows what an IVF pregnancy entails. Why would they? It's not, oh put your baby in me and I will hold it for you and we'll all feel great about it. It's more like, go out of your way to drive to a clinic or lab to have your blood levels monitored before and after a transfer, take lots of drugs and ps, did anyone mention you've just committed to shooting yourself in the ass with inch long needles? For three months? That's the best case scenario. It is a lot to ask (understatement) and I really don't want someone we love to start to hate us and curse us as their butt becomes painfully sore and hormones overtake their senses.
I think we may rather have someone who knows what they're in for and has already said, yes. I can do that. I can handle that. I want to do it.
But now comes the next set of dilemmas. Who to use? What agency to tie your hopes to? I may have mentioned we're working with someone, and they are fine. The first two profiles they shared were meh, but the next one was better, not quite there yet, but closer. And I am hoping they may come ever closer now that we've been a bit more descriptive about what we are looking/hoping for.
We made the mistake last night of wondering, well, who else is out there. What other people/agencies might we contact if this one just can't find a match?
JFC. The choices. They are overwhelming. And vary in price in incomprehensible ways. The fee for a gestational carrier is more or less standard. Shockingly steep, but is it really, considering the task you are asking? And truly, we are resigned to that. But agency fees above and beyond lawyers and setting up escrows and trusts and all the other such that goes with this? Are you really asking me to pay you to speak to you? Before we even select a carrier? And then hand over a five-figure check, before you even offer a single service? I am shocked at what some agencies, particularly those with well-known attorneys at the head, feel they can demand.
And no, we're not even getting into the ethical issues and wondering who is legit and who will break our hearts and put us on the cover of the news and ruin our lives forever.
Because that's a whole other mindfuck.
So, yes, I think we will stay with our little boutique of an agency referred by a friend and see what they can do for us. We may also directly approach one particular family member who has mentioned this in passing before to see if there was any seriousness to the offer. Maybe. Still thinking about that. So, that's where we are.
Meanwhile, I am struggling mightily with anger and bitter and bile and rage. And sadness. Just a terrible sadness.
M has made it clear. He sees no purpose, no function, no point in being if we don't at least TRY. Me, I am so sick and fucking tired of trying. There are not enough expletives to shower this post to say how very, very tired I am of trying.
I would just like all of this to be over and to have a real, live, breathing, healthy baby in my arms. One that someday may even call me mom.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Shaking Off the Crazy
Ok. One night back in my own bed with M. by my side has washed away a little of the crazy that has been consuming me this week. I'm feeling much, much better this morning. Sort of. More like resigned. But that'll work.
Now that I'm home its easy to remember that my association life is not the same as the one that I experienced out there in the Midwest. We are not a world of corporate sponsors and people throwing money at us (understatement). We are not about the hoopla. We are mission-based. What I do is real. I was right, that world isn't my world. It really isn't.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not dissing or getting all high and mighty. I'm just saying that at this point in my life, I was just not up for the shmoozing. Or maybe after 4 days I was just completely and totally over one particular person who had latched on to me early on in the conference and I just kept running into again and again and again. I made the mistake of talking him through a mini-crisis he was having on the first night (ailing family member, he as frustrated caregiver, feeling guilty about being frustrated, unfortunately, a common story in my profession and one I was able to speak to) and he decided we were soul mates. And from that point on it felt like I just couldn't shake him. Or his posse. Or all that came with it. So I found myself caught up in trying to avoid this guy as opposed to trying to lock into the sessions I needed to hear or the other contacts I felt I was supposed to be trying to make.
And, on top of that, as I've mentioned, I just didn't want to be there. Jumping straight into the grid after 3 glorious weeks out without time to process and savor and relish those moments was just too much.
But after a good night's sleep next to someone I love I understand that I have to be there. We must be there. Because we still want a child. And there is no way to do that without the assistance of several parties. All of which will cost a lot of money. So, if a baby is in the future, alas, our space on the grid is locked in. That is just how it has to be.
And as if that realization isn't hard enough, as if that leap isn't a massive mind fuck in the best of situations, along comes a nightmare scenario, one to confirm all of the whispering and doubts that play out in people's minds, or at least make surrogacy synonymous with sketch for a lot of people for a little while longer.
Dammit.
And here is where I borrow some words from Mel, because she nails it. Beyond the shock of a story as sucky as this one, beyond the anger and angst you feel on behalf of the people affected, at the heart of it all is this:
Let me tell you where we are with all of that.
I may have mentioned before that we have a family member that is a very willing gestational carrier (GC) for us. That in itself is wonderful, but the timing isn't. Its just not the right time right now. So, while this is our #1 best case scenario, it's not one that can play out for another year or so.
In the meantime, M and I decided to look into an agency to see if we could find a gestational carrier through this route. We found an agency that seemed trustworthy, had worked with our doctors and clinic before, and is more affordable than other places folks had recommended. After spending a full Saturday painstakingly filling out an Intended Parent (IP) questionnaire, we started to receive profiles of potential GCs. The first two were prefaced with an "I think you'll really like them!" by the head of the agency.
We looked at each of the documents and were overwhelmingly underwhelmed. To the point of tears. Responses to questions we had spent time agonizing over were replaced by excessive exclamation points and smiley faces and all caps. I LOVE babies!!!!! (squeeeeee)
Ok, the squee was mine, but at first glance M and I fell back down into our pit of despair.
One of my buddies is exasperated with me. She can't see why any of that matters if there is someone ready and healthy and willing to help us get the child we want. Yes, dude. For a fee. For a substantial fee. And sorry, if I'm paying that substantial fee, I feel I have more than a little skin in the game. I feel I have a right to be a little picky.
And I don't see this as a nine-month proposition. This is someone who will be connected to your life and the life of your child indefinitely. Whether there is constant communication or not. Whether there is a good relationship or not. This person would always be the person that birthed our baby. So I don't want my first impression of that person to be, "hmmm, meh. I guess she'll do." I want it to be, "wow! I cannot wait to meet this person. I hope she likes me too."
I'm wondering if we need to re-evaluate our expectations. And here is where I would LOVE any of you who have already been through this to tell me to a.) stick to my guns or b.) get my head out of my ass.
And while I'm soliciting reader feedback, what do you think about this:
We are thinking about sending out a mass email to friends and family giving them an update on our situation and asking them if anyone knows anyone that would be interested in being a gestational carrier for us. The email would make it clear that there is no need for a response to this - just throwing it out there before we continue down the road with an agency, because obviously, we would so much rather build our family around people that we know and love.
How would you feel if you got an email like that? Is it too much? Pushy? Presumptuous? Would you think we were desperate and out of our minds? M.'s preferred method is a FB status update asking if anyone wants to be our baby mama. I think that's a bit much. But maybe it isn't?
**
BTW, for those waiting for Australia highlights and photos, swear to goddess its on a To Do list. Need to dig myself out of emails and phone messages and all that first. Short answer: It was incredible. You should go.
Now that I'm home its easy to remember that my association life is not the same as the one that I experienced out there in the Midwest. We are not a world of corporate sponsors and people throwing money at us (understatement). We are not about the hoopla. We are mission-based. What I do is real. I was right, that world isn't my world. It really isn't.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not dissing or getting all high and mighty. I'm just saying that at this point in my life, I was just not up for the shmoozing. Or maybe after 4 days I was just completely and totally over one particular person who had latched on to me early on in the conference and I just kept running into again and again and again. I made the mistake of talking him through a mini-crisis he was having on the first night (ailing family member, he as frustrated caregiver, feeling guilty about being frustrated, unfortunately, a common story in my profession and one I was able to speak to) and he decided we were soul mates. And from that point on it felt like I just couldn't shake him. Or his posse. Or all that came with it. So I found myself caught up in trying to avoid this guy as opposed to trying to lock into the sessions I needed to hear or the other contacts I felt I was supposed to be trying to make.
And, on top of that, as I've mentioned, I just didn't want to be there. Jumping straight into the grid after 3 glorious weeks out without time to process and savor and relish those moments was just too much.
But after a good night's sleep next to someone I love I understand that I have to be there. We must be there. Because we still want a child. And there is no way to do that without the assistance of several parties. All of which will cost a lot of money. So, if a baby is in the future, alas, our space on the grid is locked in. That is just how it has to be.
And as if that realization isn't hard enough, as if that leap isn't a massive mind fuck in the best of situations, along comes a nightmare scenario, one to confirm all of the whispering and doubts that play out in people's minds, or at least make surrogacy synonymous with sketch for a lot of people for a little while longer.
Dammit.
And here is where I borrow some words from Mel, because she nails it. Beyond the shock of a story as sucky as this one, beyond the anger and angst you feel on behalf of the people affected, at the heart of it all is this:
I am so fucking angry that I can’t build my family without assistance and because I need to depend on other people in order to form my family. And I am so fucking angry that the majority of people in this world don’t have to navigate the ethical concerns that come with assisted family building. They want a child, they have sex, and they raise said child. And I am so fucking angry that I have to depend on others.But that's the way it is. So you give yourself a moment to be angry and outraged and indignant and yes a little self-pitying. And then you wipe your tears and get back to your To Do list of all that needs to take place if you want to be a parent.
Let me tell you where we are with all of that.
I may have mentioned before that we have a family member that is a very willing gestational carrier (GC) for us. That in itself is wonderful, but the timing isn't. Its just not the right time right now. So, while this is our #1 best case scenario, it's not one that can play out for another year or so.
In the meantime, M and I decided to look into an agency to see if we could find a gestational carrier through this route. We found an agency that seemed trustworthy, had worked with our doctors and clinic before, and is more affordable than other places folks had recommended. After spending a full Saturday painstakingly filling out an Intended Parent (IP) questionnaire, we started to receive profiles of potential GCs. The first two were prefaced with an "I think you'll really like them!" by the head of the agency.
We looked at each of the documents and were overwhelmingly underwhelmed. To the point of tears. Responses to questions we had spent time agonizing over were replaced by excessive exclamation points and smiley faces and all caps. I LOVE babies!!!!! (squeeeeee)
Ok, the squee was mine, but at first glance M and I fell back down into our pit of despair.
One of my buddies is exasperated with me. She can't see why any of that matters if there is someone ready and healthy and willing to help us get the child we want. Yes, dude. For a fee. For a substantial fee. And sorry, if I'm paying that substantial fee, I feel I have more than a little skin in the game. I feel I have a right to be a little picky.
And I don't see this as a nine-month proposition. This is someone who will be connected to your life and the life of your child indefinitely. Whether there is constant communication or not. Whether there is a good relationship or not. This person would always be the person that birthed our baby. So I don't want my first impression of that person to be, "hmmm, meh. I guess she'll do." I want it to be, "wow! I cannot wait to meet this person. I hope she likes me too."
I'm wondering if we need to re-evaluate our expectations. And here is where I would LOVE any of you who have already been through this to tell me to a.) stick to my guns or b.) get my head out of my ass.
And while I'm soliciting reader feedback, what do you think about this:
We are thinking about sending out a mass email to friends and family giving them an update on our situation and asking them if anyone knows anyone that would be interested in being a gestational carrier for us. The email would make it clear that there is no need for a response to this - just throwing it out there before we continue down the road with an agency, because obviously, we would so much rather build our family around people that we know and love.
How would you feel if you got an email like that? Is it too much? Pushy? Presumptuous? Would you think we were desperate and out of our minds? M.'s preferred method is a FB status update asking if anyone wants to be our baby mama. I think that's a bit much. But maybe it isn't?
**
BTW, for those waiting for Australia highlights and photos, swear to goddess its on a To Do list. Need to dig myself out of emails and phone messages and all that first. Short answer: It was incredible. You should go.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
back on the grid
Right now, I'm in St. Louis pretending to be an executive. I'm getting wined and dined by vendors and dutifully attending sessions on Board ethics, improving non dues revenue and all kinds of topics around "Innovation!" Innovation, it seems, is always followed by an exclamation point. Innovation! Can't you just feel the excitement!
This time last week, M and I were running around the streets of Sydney pretending to be Neo from The Matrix closing up almost three weeks wandering through a new country where we remembered how much we love being in motion, being together. We had the use of an old station wagon and someone's camping gear and it was amazing to see how easily we fell back into our old travel routines. M drives. I navigate. We break down the tent. I fold. He packs...In between there and here, there was a kickball game and about 48 hours spent in close proximity to my own bed.
I think its finally catching up with me. Because a full night of a Beatles tribute band with Boomers drunkenly dancing and whooping it up around me was all it took to send me into an existential crisis.
What the fuck am I doing here? This is not my life. These are not my people.
I never thought I would say this: I have eaten too much free food. I have drank too many free drinks. I feel indebted when I shouldn't have to. The excess and consumption is scraping off layers of my soul.
I have to do lists pages and pages long with ways I can improve how my association works and how I can make my own resume better, my career prospects brighter. I look at them this morning, remember what it feels like to wake up at dawn in a tent by the ocean and want none of it. None of it.
I have so much more to say, but I have to force myself into a session or two this morning and I wanted to let you know I was back on the grid. For now.
This time last week, M and I were running around the streets of Sydney pretending to be Neo from The Matrix closing up almost three weeks wandering through a new country where we remembered how much we love being in motion, being together. We had the use of an old station wagon and someone's camping gear and it was amazing to see how easily we fell back into our old travel routines. M drives. I navigate. We break down the tent. I fold. He packs...In between there and here, there was a kickball game and about 48 hours spent in close proximity to my own bed.
I think its finally catching up with me. Because a full night of a Beatles tribute band with Boomers drunkenly dancing and whooping it up around me was all it took to send me into an existential crisis.
What the fuck am I doing here? This is not my life. These are not my people.
I never thought I would say this: I have eaten too much free food. I have drank too many free drinks. I feel indebted when I shouldn't have to. The excess and consumption is scraping off layers of my soul.
I have to do lists pages and pages long with ways I can improve how my association works and how I can make my own resume better, my career prospects brighter. I look at them this morning, remember what it feels like to wake up at dawn in a tent by the ocean and want none of it. None of it.
I have so much more to say, but I have to force myself into a session or two this morning and I wanted to let you know I was back on the grid. For now.
Monday, July 4, 2011
It's Not Me, It's You
Dear inflatable kayak, prop yourself up, dry yourself off. We need to have a talk.
How to begin? we've been together for a while now. I still remember the day you entered my life. We've been through a lot. Some spills, some quiet moments. It seems the spills are getting a little more treacherous and the quiet moments, well, they're just because you don't go very fast, do you?
Look, there's no easy way to say it.
I think it's time we break up.
Sure, you're orange and cool-looking and people ooh and ahh when they see you get inflated and marvel at the novelty of it all. And no one's denying your ease of transport. Now, now, don't get upset. I am saying you get around. But in a good way.
But you see, it's this whole lack of maneuverability. The fact that you won't stay straight. The undeniable truth that it takes 4-5 strokes to get you to where a normal kayak would need one, if that....It's all getting to be kind of an issue.
You had to see this coming, right? Oh c'mon. Be honest with yourself. That day last month when we went out with our friends? Yes, those friends. The ones with real kayaks who kindly waited at every turn for us to huff and puff our way to them. The friends who could reach behind into their waterproof compartments (compartments!) and grab an ice cold beer and chat and laugh the whole while floating down the creek. Envy consumed me! Why can't you stay pointed in one direction? Why is that so hard?
It was then that I realized,
It's not me. It's you.
And I've been trying hard to tame my wandering eye but since that trip, it just hasn't been the same. Today was your chance to redeem yourself.
You didn't.
Getting flipped in the rapids and the rocks wasn't that big of a deal, especially since neither M or I got hurt and all I lost was a pair of sunglasses. Nice ones, but replaceable. I ain't mad atcha. But the waterlogged slog to the next island...that was tedious. And then mooring in the quicksand? Yeah, that sucked too. Literally.
Hey, what's black and comfortable and buried in 3 feet of gunk?
M's favorite and only pair of flip flops, that's what.
All of that, and miles still to paddle home. Wet, now muddy. In moods as foul as the funky smell of river muck that clung to us.
Nothing's easy with you. Nothing!
All of this would be bearable if you weren't a metaphor for so much more. If M and I weren't left sweating and cursing and plodding through waters that everyone else around us are cutting through effortlessly. Others skim and glide. Frolic and laugh. We splash and tip, knock against rocks and lose things along the way. I look out my window at this gorgeous river and see everyone on it. All I want to be is there. You get me there and then remind me that I do not have and cannot have what everyone else does.
And I still have a to find a way to get myself home.
Sigh.
Inflatable kayak, I think we need some time apart. I don't think I have to put myself through this. Quite frankly, I think I can do better. I know I can do better.
I am in search of a new way to get where I want to be.
How to begin? we've been together for a while now. I still remember the day you entered my life. We've been through a lot. Some spills, some quiet moments. It seems the spills are getting a little more treacherous and the quiet moments, well, they're just because you don't go very fast, do you?
Look, there's no easy way to say it.
I think it's time we break up.
Sure, you're orange and cool-looking and people ooh and ahh when they see you get inflated and marvel at the novelty of it all. And no one's denying your ease of transport. Now, now, don't get upset. I am saying you get around. But in a good way.
But you see, it's this whole lack of maneuverability. The fact that you won't stay straight. The undeniable truth that it takes 4-5 strokes to get you to where a normal kayak would need one, if that....It's all getting to be kind of an issue.
You had to see this coming, right? Oh c'mon. Be honest with yourself. That day last month when we went out with our friends? Yes, those friends. The ones with real kayaks who kindly waited at every turn for us to huff and puff our way to them. The friends who could reach behind into their waterproof compartments (compartments!) and grab an ice cold beer and chat and laugh the whole while floating down the creek. Envy consumed me! Why can't you stay pointed in one direction? Why is that so hard?
It was then that I realized,
It's not me. It's you.
And I've been trying hard to tame my wandering eye but since that trip, it just hasn't been the same. Today was your chance to redeem yourself.
You didn't.
Getting flipped in the rapids and the rocks wasn't that big of a deal, especially since neither M or I got hurt and all I lost was a pair of sunglasses. Nice ones, but replaceable. I ain't mad atcha. But the waterlogged slog to the next island...that was tedious. And then mooring in the quicksand? Yeah, that sucked too. Literally.
Hey, what's black and comfortable and buried in 3 feet of gunk?
M's favorite and only pair of flip flops, that's what.
All of that, and miles still to paddle home. Wet, now muddy. In moods as foul as the funky smell of river muck that clung to us.
Nothing's easy with you. Nothing!
All of this would be bearable if you weren't a metaphor for so much more. If M and I weren't left sweating and cursing and plodding through waters that everyone else around us are cutting through effortlessly. Others skim and glide. Frolic and laugh. We splash and tip, knock against rocks and lose things along the way. I look out my window at this gorgeous river and see everyone on it. All I want to be is there. You get me there and then remind me that I do not have and cannot have what everyone else does.
And I still have a to find a way to get myself home.
Sigh.
Inflatable kayak, I think we need some time apart. I don't think I have to put myself through this. Quite frankly, I think I can do better. I know I can do better.
I am in search of a new way to get where I want to be.
Friday, July 1, 2011
When Good Things Happen to Good People
Sometimes it feels like all too often IF bloggers bear the burden of sharing bad news with each other. Have you heard the sad news about....Did you see....Please go support xx during this really shitty time....yy could really use some love....
And all of that is good. And important. And valued. So valued.
But holy shit. I am thrilled. THRILLED to share a link that contains happy, amazing, jaw-droppingly GOOD new from someone whose words many of you already know and read and love. Go see what Luna has to say.
Luna is one of those women I want to be when I grow up. Gracious. Thoughtful and thought provoking. Smart. Pragmatic yet hopeful. This is just one example of a time when her words have inspired me and helped me move forward. And I am hoping and wishing a wonderful moving forward for you, Luna.
(yay!)
And all of that is good. And important. And valued. So valued.
But holy shit. I am thrilled. THRILLED to share a link that contains happy, amazing, jaw-droppingly GOOD new from someone whose words many of you already know and read and love. Go see what Luna has to say.
Luna is one of those women I want to be when I grow up. Gracious. Thoughtful and thought provoking. Smart. Pragmatic yet hopeful. This is just one example of a time when her words have inspired me and helped me move forward. And I am hoping and wishing a wonderful moving forward for you, Luna.
(yay!)
Monday, June 20, 2011
So Glad That's Over
Phew. We made it.
M's birthday AND Father's Day to grapple with this weekend. Oy.
Father's Day always feels more pervasive, more inescapable to me than Mother's Day. Maybe because I still see M as far more fragile, more volatile to external cues than me. Maybe because the ads infiltrate the media that we actually listen to/watch/read. ES*N, sports radio, hell, even pro-wresting, nothing is immune from the father's day shtick.
Luckily, M's family provided welcome distraction yesterday, particularly new baby S and her utterly kissable huge cheeks. A local brewfest took up much of Saturday, but that brought another issue to the front.
Seems that all of the gifts M received this year are beer-related. Not sure if everyone around us had brewfest on the brain, but M was gifted with bottles of craft beers, a case of his favorite, growlers from a new brewery up north - all of them really lovely on their own but combined I think it has M and I both kind of scratching our heads thinking, hmm, the first thing you think of when you think of us is beer? That can't be good. Plus, our kitchen is now over-saturated with fizzy beverages. I think I need to find a little nook to store all of this in and just put it away - that's it. I'll think of it like a little wine cellar. Yes, a Beer Nook. Anybody thirsty?
**
For the record, I'm exhausted.
This morning, I couldn't get out of bed. I usually awake when M does, then if I can't motivate to run I slip back into some zzzzz's for a few minutes while he showers and such. Then I meet him on the couch for a few minutes before he heads off to work. Today, I could barely rally for a hi, hello, howareya.
I have a feeling this is going to be a bear of a week at work and I'm just not up for it. On top of being drained from one battle we (we, meaning the industry) are fighting (and just might win) we've been completely blindsided by several other state and federal "initiatives" (i.e. budget cuts) that just might put people's services (and therefore, people) in danger.
And this should be enough to spur me into action. All I need to wake up, kick myself into gear and strive forward powered by righteous indignation. But, sigh, I looked at our company's 990 (mandatory IRS form for all nonprofits which lays out all financial info and then some) again this weekend, compared my boss' salary to mine, and my righteous indignation pointed itself towards a very different subject.
So now I'm just feeling overworked and bitter. Really, really bitter. Which doesn't help with the motivation.
But counting the days towards Australia (25) does. And knowing we made it through 2 draining milestones and don't have to deal with them for another year - that helps too.
Maybe this big fruit smoothie will help.
Onward and upward, team. The day is ahead of us.*
*and soon enough it will be over. And then there will only be 24 days until Australia. Onward and upward...
M's birthday AND Father's Day to grapple with this weekend. Oy.
Father's Day always feels more pervasive, more inescapable to me than Mother's Day. Maybe because I still see M as far more fragile, more volatile to external cues than me. Maybe because the ads infiltrate the media that we actually listen to/watch/read. ES*N, sports radio, hell, even pro-wresting, nothing is immune from the father's day shtick.
Luckily, M's family provided welcome distraction yesterday, particularly new baby S and her utterly kissable huge cheeks. A local brewfest took up much of Saturday, but that brought another issue to the front.
Seems that all of the gifts M received this year are beer-related. Not sure if everyone around us had brewfest on the brain, but M was gifted with bottles of craft beers, a case of his favorite, growlers from a new brewery up north - all of them really lovely on their own but combined I think it has M and I both kind of scratching our heads thinking, hmm, the first thing you think of when you think of us is beer? That can't be good. Plus, our kitchen is now over-saturated with fizzy beverages. I think I need to find a little nook to store all of this in and just put it away - that's it. I'll think of it like a little wine cellar. Yes, a Beer Nook. Anybody thirsty?
**
For the record, I'm exhausted.
This morning, I couldn't get out of bed. I usually awake when M does, then if I can't motivate to run I slip back into some zzzzz's for a few minutes while he showers and such. Then I meet him on the couch for a few minutes before he heads off to work. Today, I could barely rally for a hi, hello, howareya.
I have a feeling this is going to be a bear of a week at work and I'm just not up for it. On top of being drained from one battle we (we, meaning the industry) are fighting (and just might win) we've been completely blindsided by several other state and federal "initiatives" (i.e. budget cuts) that just might put people's services (and therefore, people) in danger.
And this should be enough to spur me into action. All I need to wake up, kick myself into gear and strive forward powered by righteous indignation. But, sigh, I looked at our company's 990 (mandatory IRS form for all nonprofits which lays out all financial info and then some) again this weekend, compared my boss' salary to mine, and my righteous indignation pointed itself towards a very different subject.
So now I'm just feeling overworked and bitter. Really, really bitter. Which doesn't help with the motivation.
But counting the days towards Australia (25) does. And knowing we made it through 2 draining milestones and don't have to deal with them for another year - that helps too.
Maybe this big fruit smoothie will help.
Onward and upward, team. The day is ahead of us.*
*and soon enough it will be over. And then there will only be 24 days until Australia. Onward and upward...
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
You Did What?!?!
We made a major purchase over the weekend. Mega.
But wait. Hang on! You need some background first before you scroll down to the What. Patience!
So, it started like this:
M. came home and said (like he does every year), "oh snap. I have, like, days I haven't taken off yet and I'll lose them if I don't use them."
Ok. Awesome. I checked out my own calendar and showed M. the spaces of time I could feasibly take off too. He checked with his boss. I checked with mine. We ended up with 2 delicious full weeks in July.
Just as we were getting ready to place a call to see if we could spend some time in our happy place down on the gulf coast of Florida, we both had some simultaneously occurring thoughts:
As in, Australia.
Some googling here, some expedia-ing there. Some googling over there...we came to the realization. Hey, we could make this happen. In fact, if we don't do it now, I'm wondering if we will have a chance any time in the near future? We should do this now. Why NOT do this now? Hell, we HAVE to do this now.
So we did it. We bought tickets to Australia. (gasp)
And to be sensible, we extended our two weeks to three (ok, we are in the process of working all of that out but hey, tickets are purchased. we ain't here).
And after a few hours of post-purchase anxiety, I think we are both getting incredibly excited about the journey. About the fact that you have not one but the choice of 5 five FIVE different kinds of vegetarian meals on Qantas flights, at the prospect of digging up big, solid paperbacks we haven't had the chance to read yet for our mega-long flights, of being someplace phone-free and unreachable, at the thought of seeing a completely and totally different place.
One, that I must now confess, I truly had no interest in seeing before A. moved there. In fact, I uh, ahem, may have said some shitty things about Australians in the past. Blame it on those 2 Aussies we were stuck on a tour with through the Bolivian desert - the ones who wanted to get into M's pants so badly it was almost funny. Almost. Notice ten years later I am STILL not laughing. And then blame it on Damian (yeah, son, I'm calling you out by name) the dude who we met one night when he was traveling through Poland, spent the night on my friend's couch and then would. not. leave. For like, weeks.
Man, I hated that kid.
Ok, but now I'm older. I recognize the errors of my ways. And I understand that a continent and a people are far greater than the stereotypes that can be solidified by meeting 3 random people who happen to also be from there. G*ddess knows M and I have suffered from Americans previously met. A. loves Australia. He has found love there. We love A. I bet we are going to love Australia too. Esp. with A. as our guide for some of the time.
And so, the immersion begins!!
Maybe, just maybe, we got tipsy last night realizing the genius of INXS (stop laughing. stop it. You loved them too). And perhaps we tried to set up a Pandora station of indie Aussie bands (help? anyone?) I didn't want to mention it to M, but I bet we can get Neighbors on Netflix....Analise! Luckily, it didn't go there.
Now. Here's where I need your help:
Any Aussie readers out there?
We're flying into Brisbane, out of Sydney. About 2 weeks north. 1 week south.
We have some must do's already lined up: Fraser Island, whale watching, hiking, camping, snorkeling the Barrier Reef (swoon). We've heard Noosa's the bomb. If we stay coastal (due to time constraints), what are we missing?
What are some more Must Do's?
Any Must Avoids?
Has ANYONE had ANY experience with this: www.couchsurfing.org?
Not sure how I feel about it, but trying to keep an open mind. Saving some cash on accommodations frees up some for more adventures. Of which we hope to have many.
This is truly crazy on a number of levels. But truly not on others. It kind of all boils down to: WTFN.
Dear Australia, we are so in. Let's do this.
But wait. Hang on! You need some background first before you scroll down to the What. Patience!
So, it started like this:
M. came home and said (like he does every year), "oh snap. I have, like, days I haven't taken off yet and I'll lose them if I don't use them."
Ok. Awesome. I checked out my own calendar and showed M. the spaces of time I could feasibly take off too. He checked with his boss. I checked with mine. We ended up with 2 delicious full weeks in July.
Just as we were getting ready to place a call to see if we could spend some time in our happy place down on the gulf coast of Florida, we both had some simultaneously occurring thoughts:
- hang on. we could be wearing out our welcome here.What if your relatives really don't want you chilling at their condo. Every. year?
- you know, there's not really a lot to do there that we haven't done.
- 2 weeks - that's a long time. We could feasibly, you know, DO something. GO someplace.
- great. what? where?
As in, Australia.
Some googling here, some expedia-ing there. Some googling over there...we came to the realization. Hey, we could make this happen. In fact, if we don't do it now, I'm wondering if we will have a chance any time in the near future? We should do this now. Why NOT do this now? Hell, we HAVE to do this now.
So we did it. We bought tickets to Australia. (gasp)
And to be sensible, we extended our two weeks to three (ok, we are in the process of working all of that out but hey, tickets are purchased. we ain't here).
And after a few hours of post-purchase anxiety, I think we are both getting incredibly excited about the journey. About the fact that you have not one but the choice of 5 five FIVE different kinds of vegetarian meals on Qantas flights, at the prospect of digging up big, solid paperbacks we haven't had the chance to read yet for our mega-long flights, of being someplace phone-free and unreachable, at the thought of seeing a completely and totally different place.
One, that I must now confess, I truly had no interest in seeing before A. moved there. In fact, I uh, ahem, may have said some shitty things about Australians in the past. Blame it on those 2 Aussies we were stuck on a tour with through the Bolivian desert - the ones who wanted to get into M's pants so badly it was almost funny. Almost. Notice ten years later I am STILL not laughing. And then blame it on Damian (yeah, son, I'm calling you out by name) the dude who we met one night when he was traveling through Poland, spent the night on my friend's couch and then would. not. leave. For like, weeks.
Man, I hated that kid.
Ok, but now I'm older. I recognize the errors of my ways. And I understand that a continent and a people are far greater than the stereotypes that can be solidified by meeting 3 random people who happen to also be from there. G*ddess knows M and I have suffered from Americans previously met. A. loves Australia. He has found love there. We love A. I bet we are going to love Australia too. Esp. with A. as our guide for some of the time.
And so, the immersion begins!!
Maybe, just maybe, we got tipsy last night realizing the genius of INXS (stop laughing. stop it. You loved them too). And perhaps we tried to set up a Pandora station of indie Aussie bands (help? anyone?) I didn't want to mention it to M, but I bet we can get Neighbors on Netflix....Analise! Luckily, it didn't go there.
Now. Here's where I need your help:
Any Aussie readers out there?
We're flying into Brisbane, out of Sydney. About 2 weeks north. 1 week south.
We have some must do's already lined up: Fraser Island, whale watching, hiking, camping, snorkeling the Barrier Reef (swoon). We've heard Noosa's the bomb. If we stay coastal (due to time constraints), what are we missing?
What are some more Must Do's?
Any Must Avoids?
Has ANYONE had ANY experience with this: www.couchsurfing.org?
Not sure how I feel about it, but trying to keep an open mind. Saving some cash on accommodations frees up some for more adventures. Of which we hope to have many.
This is truly crazy on a number of levels. But truly not on others. It kind of all boils down to: WTFN.
Dear Australia, we are so in. Let's do this.
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