Friday, December 11, 2009

I've Done and Gone Granola Birth

(Warning this is a long post about giving birth and birth-options and it's not full of jokes and stuff so you know, like, I won't be offended if you don't read it.)

When I found out I was knocked up I imagined I'd give birth in a hospital and probably have an epidural just like everyone else on the planet (or so I thought) and that would be that. I didn't know about alternatives other than freaky home births in kiddie pools and these mysterious mid-wives I'd heard about now and again. I thought mid-wives were some strange breed of women that gave weird churchy people dangerous home births because they were all kooky and goofy and didn't trust in modern medicine and society - and stuff. Let me stop trying to explain myself and just pin on whatever stereotype you've heard of to my shirt and be done with it.

My New Friend Who Claims To be Granola-y <---- that's a link - loaned me a couple of hippie-dippie midwife-natural birth-away from the hospital books, and advised that I look them over if anything just for the positive birth stories inside that were written by other women. I love to read and was insanely curious about giving birth so I was happy to check them out and promised to do so with an open mind because I liked this lady.

She also shared with me her own what I thought at the time was her strange-hippie-dippie home birth in a kiddie pool story and offered to show me a video of the whole darn thing. She seemed so jazzed by the whole thing that all I could do was say the requisite ooo's and ahhh's and head-nods I thought were appropriate and do the whole I'm-being-polite-to-the-crazy-lady-thing. God forgive me because I know she'll read this but at least she knows I've changed now.

OH boy howdy have I changed my mind!

After reading these books written by a midwife - Ina May Gaskin - my whole little "normal" world has been picked up and shook around like a snow globe, only to have the pieces fall back from the sky in a whole new way of life. I'm still not much of a granola-y person I don't think - I'm just too lazy - but I will be having an alternative birth. LOL it's not alternative at ALL compared to the rest of the world - just the United States.

I'm now signed up to go and have my birth in a birthing community. It's run by midwives and nurses and is completely dedicated to letting birth be about the mother and not hospital procedure. When I go into labor I'll show up and go to my very own little birthing HOUSE complete with a couple of bedrooms, kitchen, bathroom and a big ole room dedicated to the gigantic jacuzzi located in the middle of it. Mama's bringing Daisy into the world in style damn it. Jacuzzi style!

There will be no hooking me up to an I.V. (unless it becomes for some reason medically necessary) because unlike hospitals they encourage women to eat and drink as long as they can during the labor, and I'll be free to roam around and labor however I wish.

There will be no continuous fetal-monitoring-belt or internal fetal monitor (unless the baby gets in trouble and then this stuff is always there in the closet just-in-case). They prefer the intermittent dopplar monitoring instead. I choose the atmosphere I want (and it's 100% respected) and though the staff is ready and available at every second to reassure and help me along - I also have the choice of them leaving me alone and just letting me labor how I want - in peace -in between check-ins.

After Daisy is out she'll come directly onto me - skin to skin - and we'll have time together to get acquainted and even start breast feeding immediately. There are no bottles, no formula and no pacifiers that will be jammed into her mouth by well meaning nurses (and I do mean well meaning, those nurses are doing what they can with what they have and I respect them - but it's not what I want). They won't whisk her away to a nursery and leave me all alone and baby-less, she'll be right there with me where I'll want her. Of course the staff will be right there to make sure she's doing fine and doesn't need any help - in which case if she does they have all the modern bells and whistle equipment just in case. They'll do the standard APGAR test and weighing and bath - they're not freaks like I thought - but it's all done in a different manner and on my schedule not a hospital schedule.

Did I mention there's no pain medication? I want a natural birth and I'm damn well getting one. I know that if I go to a hospital I'll go in with the best of intentions but that I'll surely come home having had an epidural. I don't think there's anything terribly wrong about epidurals (to each their own damn it! it's our choice!) but it's not what I WANT and if I don't labor in a place that supports that want I don't think I'll ever make it through.

My "normal" OBGYN laughed in my face two weeks ago when I told her I wanted to go all natural and told me that it's so rare that if I'd like to try and "prove her wrong" she'd love to see it. LAUGHED at me! She said they do epidurals and cesarian births and then asked me if I'd like to schedule an induction in my 39th week for the convenience of it.



Yes, of course there are women out there whom have a reason to schedule a non-medical-reason-induction and of course there are true reasons to have cesarian births and who the hell am I to judge anyway? I'm not! It's up to the woman these days and I'm not knocking that for even a second - but I would have thought my doctor would have been supportive of a ger-flaggin natural birth! All I was asking for was not to have pain medication and she LAUGHED at me! What the hell?

Luckily for me my granola friend heard about this birthing community and even checked into it for me. (She's really super crazy neato and nice and WOW like that) She told me that if my pre-natal stuff was normal and up-to-date that they would probably TAKE ME even though I was 37 weeks along. She even asked about my insurance and they take that too!

They've got everything the Hospital has for a normal and even not-so-normal birth but it's all hidden away in closets and chests of drawers until it's deemed necessary to bring out. (If ever)

ALSO if anything comes up that looks like too much for their facility to handle they won't hesitate to take me strait to the hospital. They might be granola-y but they don't support a LOWER than average infant/mother mortality rate for nothing. They trust in a womans body to do exactly what it was designed to do but they also know things go wrong sometimes and that modern medicine is THE SHIT when things go wrong.

I'm tired of typing and I've only left out 10,000 things I should have included but for this moment I just wanted to let a little bit out and share with you how excited I am.

I'm not scared to death - I'm EXCITED! How cool is that? (Don't ask me how I feel about actually bringing a baby HOME WITH ME and having to KEEP her - that still scares me to
death - but at least I'll be able to get her out of me, and that's cool).


Thursday, December 10, 2009

Remember Burger Hut?

Here in this part of Mexico the police have little huts and tiny office/houses scattered about all over the place. For what function I've no clue, but we see them from time to time and this here's just about the silliest one I've come across. I wish you guys could see it close up, it's just so teeny and ramshackle! At least you can get an idea of it's size by looking at the car tires they have holding the roof down. (You know, I just typed out that last sentance in all seriousness without the whole car-tires-on-the-roof thing even phasing me. What's happening to me?)

I've heard from others that the police might take you to one of these little places to intimidate you to get more bribe money out of you but hell, the three times we've been pulled over here our money was good enough right there on the street.

What I think they really are? I've got an idea that the police go around shaking down taco stands and if the taco stand won't pay out they steal the stand and make a fort out of it. Remember forts?

If you come from the country and you were a boy or a tomboy you'll remember just how big of a DEAL having a fort was when you were a kid. It didn't have to be one of those big special tree house deals that you see on t.v. - nobody in our neighborhood had one of those - no, it was more likely to be an abandoned deer stand or just a bunch of wood you managed to pile up against some trees. A couple of summers we hung out under a bridge (lovely I know.) A fort was such a huge THING when I was a kid, lol I'd forgotten about it. :)

Little brothers could NOT be allowed to come to the fort and hang out - the whole day would be ruined and we did our damn best to stock the fort with whatever we could get from home. Me and the neighbor boy managed to get some candles, a lighter, a shovel, a tin for storage, a salt shaker and a bunch of sandwhich bags (to make water balloons) all stored up one summer and thought we were quite in hog heaven. We had special rocks that we'd dug out of the ground and rolled over for our chairs and even a can of spray paint to decorate - we were - the shit.

Did you guys have forts? What did city kids do? The more I think of it now the more that comes back to me and I'm remembering that FEIRCE feeling of ownership that came with it. Our parents never bothered us about the forts and never that I can remember came to check them out or see what was what - I wonder if they knew how big a deal it was? I'm betting they did. I'm also thinking now that I'm on the verge of being a parent that they probably checked out our shit when we weren't around just to see that things were copacetic and safe enough.

I hope Daisy has a fort some day. I'll totally check it out but I won't let her know it.

So yeah, I'm betting these little police huts are little grown-man forts that they get together to hang out in and jive talk when they're not busy extorting anybody. It almost makes me mushy feeling to think about. :P

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

When I Grow Up

When I grow up I think I'd like to drive this machine for my job.

Just look at it, isn't it glorious?

Do you realize that when it's being driven down the road that it's. . . appendage. . would most certainly have to be pointed up? Or at least raised to "half mast?"

DO YOU UNDERSTAND that I would pee my pants laughing all day long while driving this thing around?

Can you IMAGINE the endless possiblities of 12-year-old-boy jokes that I would have the pleasure of thinking up all day?

"It's okay Bob, let me turn her around and I'll pound it out from the back."

"Just a sec, let me turn the jack off."

"Wrong hole? Let me try another position."


"Either that's a hydraulic leak or you're his type."

I'd be fired for sexual harrasment within two weeks but at least I would live out a dream. WHY did they paint the jack turqouise!? MY GAWD DO YOU THINK IT GLOWS IN THE DARK!??

I'm setting this as my screen saver, just so you know.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Birthday Tradition Mexico Style

Here in Mexico Birthdays are like Holidays - festival required. We have a lot of people here in Chino's family and end up having a birthday party at least 2-3 times a month. One of the things I've come to learn about the birthday traditions, something that happens at EVERY birthday party no matter your age, is the cake tradition.

If it's your birthday you will have your face smashed into your cake. No exceptions.

It cracks me up because even though we have a birthday party a few times a month and though everyone knows what's going to happen - every time - it's always such a big hit. We sing the birthday song and then someone starts to chant "Mor-di-ta, Mor-di-ta!" (Little bite) The cameras are readied, everyone gets giddy and starts giggling and the person in front of the cake tries their best for a couple of minutes to try and take a small bite of cake without having someone from behind them smash their face into the cake.

I've only seen 1.5 birthdays in over a year where someone got out of it. The .5 was about a month ago - the little boy to the right. This smart lil cousin took a super-speed bite of the cake before the first chanter got to the "di" in "Mor-di-ta." It was hilarious, everyone went completely silent because they were stunned and didn't know what to do.

Smart little punk, everyone snapped back after a second and got back to laughing, congratulating him on being intelligent and watched as his sister grabbed a chunk of cake with her hand and smeared it all over his face anyway. Nice try.

The only true get-a-way was last week when Chino's Dad had his birthday party. He's pretty frail and turned 72 so after the 5th try or so of trying half-strength to push his head down they let him be, I thought it was sweet. :)

Luckily for me? Last year they didn't know my birthdate yet and Chino didn't do a family party and THIS year his Dad had just moved here and it turned out his birthday is the same exact day as mine - AND - Chino thought mine was the next day, (idiot) so I was forgot about. Was I pissy or sad or hurt? HELL NO ! ! AAHAHAHAHHAH I'm shy and haaaaattteee having the birthday song sung to me and have been dreading having to go through the cake-smashing-ritual ever since last year when I got away with it the first time.

His family felt all weird and freaked out for forgetting about me - and verbally abused Chino for mixing up the the days, but I was happy as a clam. I have a feeling next year I'll have hell to pay but we'll just see. Wish me luck. :P

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Molesting Chihuahua

My Chihuahua has taken quite a liking to humping the puppy. I tried telling her that she's got the whole thing backwards (especially when she humps his face) but to no avail. I've informed my husband that our pinche chiwawiya (chee-wa-wee-yuh) is now a child molester and that she'll have to be put on the registry and perhaps wear a special collar - lol he didn't get it, ah well. Just look at the poor little thing, doesn't he look like he feels dirty and abused? Chino does his best to console him.

I keep trying to catch her with the camera but Chihuahua's are some sneaky bastards and she get's all freaked out and stops as soon as she hears the camera beep when it turns on. Honest to goodness she stops and looks at me all guilty like "Please don't post me on the Internet." I'm going to have to call Dateline.

I was hoping to make Christmas cards out of the picture, something like "Humpy Christmas!" or "Have a Humping Holiday!" I'm sure you guys can come up with something better, but you get the gist. It WOULD make people smile, you know it's true.

"Santa's little Humper?"


Ah well, she's got it coming to her - his balls haven't dropped yet so he has no clue of what this whole humping business is about - BUT HE WILL when they do drop. (And we'll know as soon as they drop because Chino picks him up every single day to check and then announces "He doesn't have any balls. Puppy jew don't have any balls." I think it's a man thing) She's maxed out at like 4lbs and he's gonna weigh like 60. Have fun when the tables turn dirty lil Chihuahua.

Friday, December 4, 2009

Grandmas Toilet Paper

Back when I was a little kid I remember going to my Gramas house and being facinated with her bathroom. She had a PINK bathroom - carpet, wallpaper, peach bathtub w/pink curtain, all the little shell fancy soaps, a pink plastic poodle that held bubble bath and last but not least her pink scented toilet paper. I'm not sure where she even bought the pink scented toilet paper but my 7yr old self sure as heck thought it was bad ass. My parents never had colored paper and surely never scented, so gramas bathroom was quite special.

When I was older my family redecorated her house as a surprise and the pink bathroom faded way to sunflowers and the pink t.p. to white. I know it was a really cool thing that we re-did her house but I would have been fine leaving the bathroom alone - the neato t.p. never returned.

Fast forward a crazy bunch of years and I found myself baffled while walking down the isle of a Mexican grocery looking for some damn t.p. They might have one or two packs of U.S. type t.p. but the vast majority is this weird small sized paper - no quadrouple rolls here and they're even shorter for some reason. Also? Colors. Mexican paper has COLORS! No not all of it of course but back home we sure as hell don't have peach, green and PINK toilet paper lining the isle at Walmart. PINK ! Grama you'd be so proud here!

After staring at all the strange tiny toilet paper I picked out the only kind that was large and recognizable - Cottonelle - and went about my way wondering if perhaps that pink paper was scented like my Gramas used to be.

When I got home and opened up my good ole American looking white toilet paper - Surpirse SURPRISE!! It was SCENTED! I'm really easily amused ok? For whatever reason I thought this was just about the neatest thing so I sat in the potty a while and sniffed my t.p.

It turns out that you just about can NOT buy t.p. here that isn't scented. Who the hell knew? I love it, it reminds me of my grama of course and for what ever reason I like having it nice smelling. I use a roll of toilet paper instead of buying Kleenex (cheap skate) and every time I blow my honker I get a whiff of my scented t.p. and every time it makes me smile. Sometimes Mexico can be cool.

The only down side to the lovely paper? Chino has taken to asking me after returning from a poo session - "I just wiped my butt with the perfume paper - jew want to smell it? Jew want to smell my flowery butt??"






*running in circles*


*running back and forth*


*clapping hands*

*peeing pants*


Ok, I'll be back! I CAN WRITE AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!


Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Please Stand By

This is how Mexico works. Truly. Everything.

Last week Chino went to get our internet contract switched from the old house to the new house. They said within 5 days someone would show up at our house and hook us up.

5 days came and went so Chino went back to see what was up. It turns out they had the wrong address. When he gave them the correct one they said that the previous renter of our house didn't pay off his bill and that if we wanted OUR internet at that address we would have to pay it. (Our house is new so it didn't make much sense but whatever, it's Mexico) Chino had a hissy fit and they said they would have the supervisor call him in two days.

Two days came and no phone call so he went back, found the supervisor and had a talk. It turns out they had put in a SECOND wrong address and there was no contract we had to pay off and that for our trouble they would send out someone the next day.

Right. It's the next day! And I'm stateside at a doctor appointment but they didn't show this morning anyway.

Lordy. The funny part? I'm so used to this after living here a for a year that it doesn't even piss me off anymore. In fact Chino and I usually make bets on how long it will take to actually get things done. My bet was no less than 3 weeks on this one :P

SO! I haven't gone into labor just yet, I'm just waiting to get back online.

Do they have wi-fi in hospitals these days? It seems like they'd have to right? I'd like to blog from the hospital when I go into labor, wouldn't that be cool?

Anyhoo, gotta run and get checked out - see yall soon! :)


Friday, November 20, 2009

What Would Bob Dylan Say?

After running into the gas station for tacos this morning (don't you judge me) and running (ok waddling) back out to my car, I realized the key-fob-unlocker-alarm dealie-do was missing from my key ring. It fell off inside my car and my first thought was "OH MY GAWD! How am I going to get in my CAR!? (I want to eat my taco) I don't want to call a tow truck!"

Luckily out of the mist in my brain a little voice came back to me, a little nudge from somewhere around 1997 or so from when I was first driving whispered to me to reeee-meemmmb-eerrrrr - remember that there was a time before key-fobs when people unlocked their car using *gasp* a key.

Oh YEAH! Right? KEY'S!! Remember KEYS!? I've never actually opened this car with a key before and worried for a second or two that it might not even work, but no, all was fine, the manufacturers had my back.

Remember when there was a key for the trunk too? How did I FORGET this stuff?

I've read articles over the years about "Things the Children of Today Will Never Know." You know, things like 8-tracks and records and cars without seat belts and such. But really? I never even had records or 8-tracks, I was the tape/C.D. generation and it got me to thinking about things that yet-to-be-born-DAISY is never going to deal with. *snort* Daisy sure won't be opening any cars with key's I'll bet you that. Hell I don't think Daisy will ever burn a mix C.D. (and how was that not THE coolest most bad-ass thing like EV-VER!?)

I wonder if she'll even have to put a DVD in the player? With these net-flix boxes that bring movies to your t.v. without even renting a DVD somehow I doubt she'll ever have the privilege of driving to the movie store in the rain at 8p.m. pissy because it's late and all the good stuff will be gone and then bickering with her boyfriend about what type of movie to get. I kind of like walking around the movie store plotting just how exactly I'm going to trick Chino into thinking a chick-flick is the right thing to rent that night. You know, it would be nice if the chick flick makers could put action looking covers on the DVD's, that way instead of seeing a guy and gal standing on the cover with flowers and a dog he would see bullets and fast cars and think "All right!" Anyways.

The other day I found an old box of 3.5 in diskettes that I kept my journal on and realized that my laptop doesn't even TAKE them! For realz? Bastard! No diskettes and saying "Don't flick the metal thingie!" for Daisy. Who knew?

I'm sure there's tons more - anything post year 2000 that you can think of? One thing she will know in her lifetime? DISHES. Mwwaaahaaaahaaaaa I'm not letting my offspring go through life without hating me for making her do the dishes, sorry kid.

(OH! And P.S. while picking up breakfast tacos at the gas station I ran across a new coconut-M&M. I never eat M&M's but they said coconut and "NEW!" so I had to, as any responsible consumer - buy them. And I totally like them. It's like a mounds bar without the coconut in your teeth and I'm afraid to go back to the gas station now. Granted it's still the same old waxy silly M&M chocolate, but I think we all know how I feel about shitty chocolate :P )

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Silly Pot-Head, Threats are for Bitches

Last week we had some stage-set-up-dudes staying at the hoe-tell while they were here preparing for a children's dinosaur show. We've got a 100% no-smoking policy here - signs are posted everywhere, and guests sign a big scary paper that says if they smoke in the room they'll be charged a $250.00 fine. It's not rocket science and you'd think folks would obey, but no, and the roadies were no exception.

The morning they checked out the housekeeper called down to say that there was someone smoking in room 209 and asked if I could please come check it out because in addition to the cigarettes she smelled something . . . funny. LOL I went to check it out and she was trying really hard to pretend that she just did NOT understand what this "funny" smell was or the strange papers left behind and the even stranger little seeds left on the table. I laughed at her to cut the tension and told her that it was OK, that I knew it was Marijuana and I'd take care of it.

I called the stage set up company and informed them that I'd need to fine them for a smoking violation, (leaving out the strange smell part) told them which employees did it (it would apparently be coming out of their paychecks) and went about my business.

Not ten minutes after I hung up with the boss though, I got a phone call. She'd called the violators to let them know they'd be short on their checks and this guy was apparently pissed and decided to do something about it. Silly. Silly dread-locked man.

He started yelling at me as soon as I picked up the phone and swore up, down and all around that he didn't smoke in the room. I told him I'd witnessed the ashes and leave-behinds myself and he tried to suggest that the housekeeper did it. "There wasn't anything there when I left." "So where did you FIND this stuff in the room?" He was a pretty obvious liar and being a dick but I figured I'd play along and give him an exit so he'd hang up and let me go on about my day. I proposed that maybe it wasn't HIM, maybe it was his roommate and he was somehow *cough cough* clueless. The idiot got even more pissed and kept going on about how he didn't SEE ANYTHING so I suggested maybe his roommate did it after he left. (Just grab the bone already!)

But no. He kept prattling on arguing and getting shitty and really REALLY wrapping himself up around a pole of lies - lol - so fast that I'm pretty sure he contradicted himself about three times in this 7 minute conversation. All of a sudden though he stopped yelling at me and decided to go about his next order of business. He forgot some of the company's equipment in his room (gee wonder why?) and wanted to know how I was going to get it back to him.

Seriously? He just yelled at me and now needs a favor? Gaah. I told him I'd be happy to ship it to him C.O.D. He seemed really paranoid about this part (I'm guessed the company wouldn't be too happy) but gave me his home address and demanded I send it out that same day. (sssuuuuurrrree) He went on to bitch at me some more about the smoking charge and started to get whiny and cry-baby about it stating that the last guys that did this got fired and if HE got fired I'd be sorry and hung up on me.

That pissed me off.

Gonna threaten the pregnant lady just trying to do her job and earn min-wage fuck face? Let's just see where that gets you.

SO! I called his boss back up, put on my best oh-dear-oh-my-I'm-so-upset voice and blabbed everything. I started off business like informing her that I didn't appreciate disgruntled phone calls from her employee and OHH-by-the-way would she prefer me to send the forgotten stage equipment directly to the company instead of to the employee's home??? She was pretty pissed herself about the nasty phone call and assured me that she knew it was inappropriate and was quite grateful to hear about the lost stage parts. She started making a bit of small talk about how stupid these guys are to smoke and gave me a perfect little IN for me to go into hush-hush just-between-you-and-me by the way mode and tell her that it wasn't cigarettes.

She was VERY interested in hearing that her employee was smoking the wacky-tobacky and I added in what I felt was my final kick in the ass by coming out with "Gosh, and these guys are high while setting up stage equipment for a children's show." "I'd be worried about just what they might be messing up, lord knows you wouldn't want things dropping from the ceiling." "GOLLY."

Hmm. You know? It's been a couple weeks and I'm somehow not sorry. I guess mr. pot-head was just full of hot air when he threatened me. Who woulda thunk it?

(P.S. I don't have a problem with pot heads - to each their own in a safe environment, none of my business - but he pissed me off.)

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Indian Food, Catnip and Tastey Mold

( SUKI !!!! ;D )

The new boss-type guy at work turned out to be totally nice - a little. . . different in the social sense - i.e. he doesn't understand that it's a little off to stand 2.5 inches away from another person at all times or stare enraptured while I'm filling out monotonous form paperwork for 15 minutes thus making me want to write faster than I have in my entire life and get cramps in my hand just so I can STOP writing and run away - but otherwise a pretty cool dude.

Yesterday he asked me if I'd like some coffee that he was going to make and I declined because I'm avoiding caffeine for the baby. He went on to explain that it's not really coffee but something he drinks that he just calls coffee because the Indian word for it would make no sense to me. Cool, it sounded like an adventure so I said I'd love some.

And. Oh My GAWD! - in a good way! He brought me this warm wonderful sweet drink that I'd never tasted anything like before - but was AWESOME. My tongue recognized milk, cinnamon, sugar and nutmeg and he managed to tell me that there are a few different nuts in it as well as ginger. He has a lot of English words missing from his vocabulary so he couldn't really explain what it was - plus I was probably freaking him out by barely containing myself and over-exclaiming and freaking out about how good it was and bombarding him with 28 questions at once - so I really don't have much of a clue as to what all is really in it. I DO know that if I could find a mix or somehow make it I would drink it every day and now I'm all freaked out and am going to stalk google for an answer.

He wasn't finished though! OH MY GAAAWWWD, later on he brought down something on a plate for me to try (picture to your right) and being my assey-retard self my first thougt was "Ok, I loved his coffee but why is he bringing me egg noodles?" And then I tried them. They were like nothing I've EVER tasted but they sure as hell were not egg noodles.

He said his wife makes them and they're made of beans and some potato and a bunch of spices. They were crunchy and good and the most perfect level of spicy obtainable (I think I tasted jalepeno?) and somehow reminded me of pizza sauce - but not really at all, just a certain spice in there that must be IN pizza sauce. And catnip. There was this vague flavor of the way catnip smells and now I'm afraid I'm going to steal my cats toy and throw catnip on our tacos because for some odd reason it was really damn good.

Next time he came down to check in he brought me a piece of tortilla that looked like a plain ole flour tortilla so I of course in all ignorance thought "Why is he bringing me a plain tortilla? I live in Mexico." Of course I tasted it and it turned out to be sweet, which was cool and I thought "Oh, well, it's a tortilla with sugar, I guess they all can't be winners." AND THEN I took a second bite. . . and. . . and this flavor that I can't even BEGIN to describe came slow and sexy out of the background and pounced on my brain like "HA! And you thought I was PLAIN! Who's the bitch now HAHAHAAAAA!" I could have cried it was so good.

SO, this Indian man (Manoj) has shared these THREE off-the-charts super delicious foods with me and I'm having a FIT in my head because he can't tell me what they really are or the ingredients. He told me his wife made all of it and when she comes here in a few weeks he'd be happy to bring me more. How sweet of him but no, no I'm pretty sure I'd like to instead beg his wife to live in her kitchen for a week or so and watch HER every move 2.5 inches away like a strange person. Ahhh how the tables can turn Gringa!

The shitty part? This friday is my last day and till today I WAS happy about that. DAG GUMMIT! I've even got it planned out in my head that if she wouldn't teach me to cook I'd sing show-tunes to her - IN SPANISH - Telemundo style until she gives in. But no, I'll be over in Mexico trying not to have a premature baby. Damn it unborn-Daisy, I for realz want to learn to cook Indian, you better be cute as hell - just sayin.

I can't believe that this whole world of food has been floating around out there my entire life with me having NO CLUE that it could be SO AWESOME and wonderful. Yes, duh, it's not like I've traveled the world so I'm sure there's lots of great food out there but. . . but DAMN IT you know? If he would have brought me 3 things and just ONE of them had been good that would be pretty cool - but THREE!?

I've never been to an Indian restaurant but now I'm 100% sure that I'll not survive and my life will NOT be complete until I find one and somehow try EVERYTHING. Till I find one I'll be stalking the internet trying to figure out how to make some of this stuff because I can NOT go without having it again.

(Just how the hell a white girl from the U.S. is going to begin cooking Indian cuisine in Mexico I'm not sure, but I'm damned determined I'll tell you that.)

OKAY! SOOOOOO - have you ever had an insane food epiphany? Or even a funny one? (SHARE IT WITH ME OR I'LL SEND YOU CHAIN MAIL) Like, have you ever been just waltzing along eating Macaroni and Cheese and stumbled across something amazing? You HAVE to share! (So I can go out and try it too.)

I haven't been this excited since my previous boss took me to a fancy restaurant and ordered us both salads with bleu cheese and even though I thought she was INSANE because bleu cheese is made of MOLD I ate it because I didn't want her to think I was a strange retarded bumkin - thus discovering that mold is freaking DELICIOUS and my life was somehow more complete. (And then I got knocked up and haven't been able to eat it for 8 months because knocked up people aren't supposed to eat mold (damn it Daisy you had REALLY better be cute.) )

Share YOUR epiphanie please. :)

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Hey Rhonda !!!

Here's a pic of the river I promised to put up. Lol when I said I crossed the river every day and would be happy to take a pic of it I didn't realize that my view of it while crossing the bridge is through a big ole chain fence - I guess my brain had filtered that part out. But, here it is, no people swimming across and no boaters out for a cruise :P Come to think of it I've never seen anybody out there in a boat, I imagine fishing is . . . somewhat discouraged here. :P

To make up for the crappy river pic here's a puppy pic (with a generous dash of boob) to liven things up. The little crapper is coming along pretty well these days and after I went online to figure out how to make my own dog food he's eating waaaayyy better and finally gaining some weight. Beef, rice, carrots and crushed egg shells for calcium - who knew it was so easy? Spoiled little monster won't touch dog food to save his life (literally) so until he's fat as a Christmas Ham I'm not gonna push it on him and that's that.

I was going to put out a pissed-off-angry-but-kinda-funny post today but then I ran across the neatest couple here at the hotel this morning. The new guy on shift last night left out yesterdays coffee and the couple informed me that it was a tad cold (and stale.) I did the Oh-so-sorry's but they didn't seem pissy in the least, just said that they popped it in the microwave, no biggie. Coffee isn't the story though. After they asked me about my gigantic baby belly, when I'm due and all that jazz - and exclaimed over and over how much they liked the name I've picked out for her ( so of course I now love them) - I asked them what brought them down to this area.

!! They told me that they were down here dropping off a load of reindeer for the city to have here during the Christmas festivities that will be going on. They said that they actually raise reindeer on their farm and come November drive all over the country dropping off groups of them for people to keep for a month or so during the season. They're from rural Minnesota but they've already dropped groups off this year in Boston, San Diego, Miami, Atlanta and now deep south Texas. I ooo'ed and ahhhed and told them they must bring countless smiles to children and adults all over the place this time of year and they went on to tell me how much fun they have and about the stories they get to tell the kids. The older gentlemen actually said - "It's a great job, heck, it's they only job where you get to lie your ass off all day and feel good about it!"

I felt like a kid myself just talking to these sweet friendly folks and they really made my day. So, no angry posts today, I'm just too happy and full of Christmasy spirit to go there. Instead I'm gonna u-tube some Christmas music and smile extra bright at people, I think it's just that kind of day.

Friday, November 13, 2009



New manager here at work! Is following me like a lost puppy and won't GO AWAY! And his stomach has been GROWLING FOR TWO HOURS - he better watch out or I'll try to force feed him like my real puppy. EAT DAMN YOU FREAKY MAN !!

No time to write! HELP!! :P

Oh, god, here he comes back from the bathroom - Gaaahhh I hope he washed his hands.

SHIT, gotta run! Promise to blog very soon.



Thursday, November 12, 2009

Picture of an Idiot

See that girl? The pregnant lady shrugging her shoulders and giggling "Tee-Hee! Who knew? Laa laa dee dah"

I shall be submitting her picture to Websters in hopes of getting her - okay my, I need to talk 1st person - set up next to the word RE-TARD in the dictionary. Sorry to all retards out there who might rightfully be offended by my saying I'm good enough to belong in their category, but Idiot and Moron just don't seem strong enough for me. If you can think up a NEW word, worse than retard, I'd be much obliged and willing to change it.

Why? Why all the drama?

I went to the pregnant lady doctor for my check up yesterday and got a big ole bitch slap of stoopid laid on me.

The doc pulled out her brand new vagina-horseshoe to open me up and have a look inside (Btw it was a cool one, it was plastic with LED lights inside it so the doc can light up yo shit like a Christmas tree! I told her she was fo-real pimpin her shit out these days but she didn't find it as funny as I - what's up with that??)

Anyways, I heard the ominous "OHHH" as soon as she lit me up. "Oh?" I asked. She proceeded to tell me that I'm dilated 1 cm. OH is right, I'm only 34 weeks and not ready to be popping out a baby quite yet. She asked me if I've been having any contractions and I sputtered out "I don't THINK so?"

I asked her a month ago what a contraction actually feels like and she told me something or other but said that I would FOR SURE know. She made a big deal out of saying that it was a WAY OBVIOUS thing and I couldn't miss it. HAAAAA! I guess she'd never met someone like me before.

I've been noticing for about 3 weeks that my tummy feels funny sometimes. At first I thought it was just because Daisy was growing a lot bigger and pushing out in weird ways and later when I noticed that my stomach would get all tight feeling I thought I was just over-doing it with all the house moving and work and stuff. Never once did I put it together that I might be having contractions. CONTRACTIONS!?

I told the doc what I'd been experiencing and she said "Yes, those are contractions." Well what the fuck? I said "But they don't hurt!" And she told me that they're not supposed to hurt. EXCUSE ME?? All I've heard about labor for the past 27 years is how horrible and painful labor - i.e. contractions - is! WHAT THE HELL DOES SHE MEAN CONTRACTIONS DON'T HURT!?


Shit a duck out of a two headed elephant damn it! I've been having contractions for over THREE WEEKS and had NO IDEA!? I'm DILATED for gods sake!

How does a pregnant lady not know she's having contractions? I shouldn't be allowed to reproduce.

*Deep Breath*

She wrote me a prescription for some pills to take every 6 hours to stop the contractions and told me that I need to be on bed rest. OMFG bed rest??? I begged her to keep working and she said I can if I don't lift ANYTHING and don't walk more than a mile in 24 hours. (Geeewwww, that's. . . impossible) she also said no sex and FOR REAL bed rest as soon as I get home.

These pills she prescribed? Lordy, lordy. She said that they'll cause heart palpitations and anxiety. I reminded her that I've already given up the Klonopin I've taken for years because I'm a chemically imbalanced freaked out weirdo with anxiety coming out my ears and had a small meltdown inside at just the thought of adding more anxiety. MORE? It took me the first four months just to get to the coping-point of not being medicated any longer!

She merely shrugged her shoulders and said it outweighs risking the baby. Of course I understand that, I'm retarded but not inhuman but SHIT FIRE she could at least give me a pep talk or pat on the back or something. Throw me a bone bitch!

Currently I'm dry mouthed and feel just like you might if you sat on your washer during the spin cycle. I'm jittery and my hands skate like a weirdo and my whole body feels like I've drank about 10 cans of Red Bull. People keep telling me I look "different" or "sick" and I have a feeling they mean like a "crack head." :P The good news? They'll only make me take it for two weeks, till I'm 36 weeks along and then they'll let me stop and let me go into labor as soon as my body feels like it. I never thought having a baby 4 weeks early could be "good news" but beggars can't be choosy I guess.

All in all I'm technically fine and Daisy is fine. The fine print will tell you that I'm a MORON - and a shaky one at that - and that Daisy is a poor soul because she'll have a MORON for a mother but all in all, we're technically fine.

God help us all.


Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Friendly Drivers

Dear Douchebags,

When I pulled up beside you at the red light I had all intentions of minding my own business and ignoring you like any other person. I guess you felt differently and that's why both of you boys turned your heads to stare, wave and make whistling noises at me. When you popped your camaro into neutral and started revving the engine I still wasn't impressed, but when the light turned green and you were still revving in neutral and all of the traffic around you - including yours truly - was driving away while you were stuck immobile waiting for your RPM's to come down - you totally made my day.


Still Chuckling,

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Dog vs. Man - Penis 101

Let's all smile today shall we?

Last night I was watching Pooper (still need to give him a name) puppy walk around and I noticed his widdle puppy penis was all red and funky looking. Before my brain could process what it was seeing all I could think was "DAMN IT! He's going to make it, I've nursed him back to health and now he has a BLOODY DICK! Damn it!"

After a couple seconds I realized I was merely seeing a dog boner. "Oh. Not bloody. . . Just a boner. A puppy Boner? Huh. Well, that's nice, he's functional I guess."

Seeing his wee-willie reminded me of something from back when I was a kid. Growing up we had male dogs and male horses that educated me sight-wise fast and early about the apparent workings of penises. I'm sure you've seen a boy dog or at least a horse or elephant on t.v. with it's inside penis protruding out in the air from it's outside penis covering. (Don't they always look so relaxed during those moments?)

Red Rocket and all that.

I remember one summer staring at our Great Dane's big red shiny dinker a hangin out and trying so hard to superimpose the same image on to the boy that lived down the road. I wondered if it hurt the boy down the road when HIS red shiny thing came out of it's outer thing and sympathized that it would be pretty sensitive a deal to be carrying around with him while he played.

I had NO idea that men were different than animals in the penile respect. For years. YEEAAARRRS. In fact I'm not sure when I realized that things were actually different but I can say for sure I was way WAY older than I'd probably like to print. In fact, oh damn it, I remember being in 5th grade when they showed us a diagram and thinking "Where's the red thing?" And when they showed us a condom, wondering "Does it come off the hairy part and onto the red thing? Or does it just go on the red thing? Is there room for it all?"

I didn't have sex but I did TOUCH a penis for the first time when I was 16 and I'm not for sure or not if I expected the red thing to come out or not. I don't imagine so but I'm not going to say that it wasn't in the back of my mind.

Now you know.

SO! For those of you out there with kids and boy-dogs you might want to somehow approach this subject. Please, before you've got a 13 year old boy wondering when his red rocket is going to pop out and before your daughter asks her first boyfriend just what is wrong with his dingle-doo because it's obviously not functioning properly.

Do your kids a favor.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Baby Angelito

I posted before about the other girl in our family here that is/was pregnant at the same time as me - the one that I shared a baby shower with. She's been a month ahead of me in gestation and this past week was her time to deliver. Thursday she went into labor, did her thing, pushed her baby out into this world and the doctor, the doctor delivering her baby, dropped him.

The doctor dropped her baby boy on his head before he even cut the chord. She heard it but couldn't see and asked panicked "Was that my baby!?" The doctor tried to lie and told her no, that it was the placenta and that the baby wasn't out yet. The placenta doesn't deliver till about 30 minutes after a baby - and did so - so she knew something had happened.

Little perfect Angelito lived for about a day and died on Friday. We had to bury him this Saturday and it, well it's just indescribable. I bawled inconsolably for about 24 hours and my poor husband was half panicked thinking I was going to stress myself into early labor. I don't know what came over me, I'm not usually so crazy emotional but I imagine it's something to do with the baby I'm carrying myself and the fact that the little boy she was going to grow up with is already gone. The other girl and I went through all of our first-time-prego-stuff together but for the life of me and as sad as I am I can't IMAGINE what this has got to be like for her. It surprises me that she's even breathing.

And people ask me why I don't just have my baby in Mexico and fix her papers later? In the U.S. if a doctor dropped a baby on it's head I imagine they would at least DO something to save it. They've got things to do and medicines to give if a brain is swelling inside the skull don't they? I know they do.

I felt like a big elephant in the room when we all gathered before the funeral. I've got a grand pregnant belly running around in front of me and we all know that I'll be delivering myself in the weeks to come. His family knows that I'll be delivering in the BEST hospital around over on the Texas side and I can't help but feel. . . not guilty, but some sort of guilt-ish emotion you know?

He was a big healthy beautiful baby boy. They had an open casket and I'll never in my life forget how he looked laying there. Never ever.

Friday, November 6, 2009

Green Bay Hor

We had a former Green Bay Packer player stay here at the hoe-tel for about 5 months. I didn't KNOW he used to play for Green Bay, all I knew was that he was currently playing for the Arena-league team here and that he was a total and complete man-hor. BEYOND man hor, I'm talking dirty, dirty slutty man-type-hor with no shame at all. The most slutty sex obsessed human I'd ever met. But polite. He still hit on me on a regular basis - even after proclaiming how big I was getting prego-wise and asking repeatedly if I was SURE I wasn't having twins, but otherwise really polite (and open) about his hor-ness.

The housekeepers complained about the crazy amounts of used and unused condoms in his room plus the wide array of porn mags and DVD's he left laying around. Women came and went on a daily basis but hey, he was polite to me so whatever, what do I care? He would hit on anything that walked so I routinely warned the new girls that he would be hitting on them and if they couldn't fend of his charm to FOR GODS SAKE wrap his shit up because he was surely sporting a lab technicians nightmare of miscellaneous std's or lord knows what.

ANYWAYS - He came back to stay with us yesterday after being gone a couple of months and one of the housekeepers brought in some stuff for him to sign. She's a total football freak and informed me of his career stats and such. Green Bay? Who knew? Now days he's playing for some new football league they have, It seems like I should be impressed or something but I can't find it in me. I feel a little weird that I'm not - but damn it the man is a GIGANTIC HOR. LOL I googled him and he's also a motivational speaker. He IS very motivated *snort* I'll give him that.

This morning he came down to ask me to unlock the pool area and when I came around the counter I noticed he wasn't wearing any pants.


All I could think to say was "Darling. You're not wearing any pants." He was wearing instead some of those teensy spandex boxer brief deals so technically he was covered up, but come on, he's a gigantic muscled black man 6'4 feet tall and 325 pounds - what were those things really hiding?

He just smiled and said, "Oh, I like to wear my tights, they're comfy." And went on to ask me when it is that I'm due to have the baby.
Like I said, strange and hor-ish but, polite. I shooed him off toward the pool to soak in the Jacuzzi as quick as I could - wouldn't want to scare any children - and wished him a good day.

I couldn't believe all the things I read about him when I Googled him. All of these wonderful articles about him beating the odds coming up from the streets, making it big, all of the volunteer work he does with children, the motivational speaking and such - and yet - he's just so unbelievably DIRRRTAAYY.

I just.
Who knew?

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Mexican Choose

Last night Chino was feeling his oats and decided to inform me -

"Jew know jew love my shest." "Jew think eets sayyyyxee."

I asked - "Your what?"

"My SHHHEST." (add in image of a grand smile + chest and arm dorky man-flexing)

*SNORT* I managed to control myself long enough to say "Yes my Love of course I do, now do me a favor, say shoes."

"Choose?" "Why?"

Dear lord. I love this man. Sometimes he speaks just like on t.v. when you see a over exaggerated gay latino talking and flailing about, and I couldn't help myself.

I told him that he says CHoose for SHoes and SHest for CHest. He can make both sounds but just can never seem to put them with the right words. He got a little defensive and came back with -

"Whadayver, I say it SHes. . ."

". . .Oh. . Yeah right?"

Dork. He's the best.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Things get hectic when you move to a new house - life is hectic when you're going to have a baby in 6 weeks - and I imagine life after said baby will be a tad beyond hectic. Like, Hell-ctic. So what do we do to remedy some of this?

Buy a puppy.

Yes. Because a puppy is EXACTLY what we need right now.

But look at him. Oh my god. Heavens to Betsy. Betsy would go to hell for this puppy if she had to. (And if not, then Betsy is obviously a heartless tramp.)

We want even more security for our new house and we thought (Chino thought, thinks) that a good scary dog would do the trick. See that sweet wittle face? That's a sweet wittle Pit Bull face - ISN'T HE SCARY!?? You would totally not rob our house if you saw that in the yard.

LOL I love little bastard already and actually called into work yesterday (I never EVER call into work) to stay home and keep him alive because I was convinced he was dying. Poor little thing would have died had I not trekked across the border for special formula and then force-fed him all day. I even took him to the vet over here in Mexico - all by myself - and used my limited vocabulary and miming skillz to explain that my puppy was trying to kick the bucket.

A few shots, some medicine by mouth, copious amounts of force-fed formula and having him sleep with me because he was cold and then getting up at 1:30am, 3:30am, 4:30am and 5am to let him potty and shove some water down his throat - and what do I get???

SHIT! I got puppy shit that was more shit than it was water (hhooorraay!!) which means he's already getting better and my efforts are paying off. I've never been so proud of a pile of shit in my life.

I haven't got enough sleep in about 4 days and now Chino is getting sick as well (God help me) but I feel surprisingly fine. Did I mention I'm about to pop out a half breed? I'm pretty sure I'm a bad ass. AND! I've got an idea that I might just survive when Daisy is born. Even though I was dead tired last night and really DO need to get some proper rest, I wasn't pissed or even cranky about getting up to nurse him along. If the cat woke me up all night long meowing because she was bored I might kill her - but the puppy is sick and I LOVE him like a bandit so it makes things different. I didn't know that I'm capable of being sleep deprived and not turning into an evil woman in need of an exorcism. This is exciting!

OH and p.s. I need a name for my puppy. I've been calling him "Pooper," and will continue to do so until I find something else - and obviously I need something else. Chino wants to name him "Frijol" (not frijole, just frijol (free-hole) which means bean. OR he wants to call him "Pinto" like the bean. Really living up to that "Beaner" image there husband.

I can't say frijol without thinking of Bevis and Butthead saying "cornhole" "CORNHOLIO!!" and Pinto just reminds me of a shitty car. Help us. Help the sweet puppy not be a beaner or a defecator.

Monday, November 2, 2009

My Neighbor Uses Viagra

***** I wrote this post last week and but didn't get to post it because of the robbery post - SO - here it is a little late - a proper farewell to my old house and neighbors. ;)*******

I didn't need to know that my neighbor uses Viagra either but I had no choice in finding out so I figured I'd share with you all. Our neighbors never tie their garbage bags shut so we've got a continuous stream of odds and ends garbage that flows down the street and ends up in front of our house. Some days a plastic bag, maybe a paper cup but today I came home from work to find this box here to your right in front of my gate door.

Nice choice there neighbor, hope things worked out ok for you.

Considering I have the maturity of a 6th grader I'll not be able to talk to them anymore without having a total meltdown on the inside. (Good think I've moved because after the robbery we went to thier house to ask if they saw anything and all I could do was stare at the man and think to myself "VIAGRA OMG HE USES IT AND I'M TALKING TO HIM AND DOESN'T HE LOOK YOUNG?? VIAGRA VIAGRA VIAGRA ect - I'm a freak.) Too bad I'm not cranky about the garbage situation - this would have been a GREAT opportunity to knock on their door to return their garbage and inform them that they might want to tie their bags better and to remind them that they need to go to a doctor if an erection lasts for longer than 4 hours.

Don't take me the wrong way about any of this Viagra business - I'm 100% in favor of men using it if it helps them - BY ALL MEANS please your women! (Or parter ;) ) It's just it has something to do with the S-E-X and therefore I'm incapable of not joking around.

I'm pretty sure I'd be worrying if I had a boner for more than TWO hours. Well, no, considering I'm a girl I'd be freaked out over any type of boner I guess, but never mind. Do you think if a man called after a 3 hour woodie that the doctor would tell him to wait another hour and see if it goes away? What is this magical 4 hour mark?

I'm not Googling it, I've got a feeling that wouldn't end up a productive search. Lesson of the day? Tie up your damn garbage or the crazy girl next door will tell the entire world about yo bid-ness.