Today, in summary:And that was a twit twittering, or a twitterer tweeting. Thank you, and I'm here all week! Tip your waiter.
Automatically shipped by LoudTwitterHaving a kid in Norway already sucks ass and I'm only 6 weeks alongJust got home from the doctor's office. Let's just say what I was expecting and what actually took place were vastly different.
We left work early (which truthfully is pretty sweet), so we could walk very far, up very steep hills, in the freezing cold. I already knew this doctor is way too far away for me to have permanently, but if we wanted to get in right away, we had to see her. We get called into her office, where I told her I'm pregnant so she could set up another appointment next week in the morning. Apparently, that is when the tests will be run.
Maybe I'm hormonal (is it too early for me to start claiming hormones are the cause of my rage?), or maybe I'm too American, but that pissed me right off.
What was the point of the huge fucking ordeal I went through to get there? So you could set up another appointment? I have an idea on how to cut medical expenses, Norway! Let me TELL YOU over the phone WHY I'm coming in, so you can make the appointment where you actually DO SOMETHING right then and there.
She didn't even give me a fucking pamphlet on pregnancy! She didn't give me a list of dos and don'ts. She didn't ask me about medications I'm taking. And this obviously goes without saying, but there was no sonogram either. In short, I feel like this doctor's office, or maybe even the whole of Norway's medical system I don't know, is a fucking sham.
I'm so thrilled that I get to have my first kid in a system that would be better managed by German shepherds, all while doing it away from my family and friends. I'm so upset right now, I'm actually crying. Hormones, whatever, I really want a fucking cigarette.
EDIT: And another thing! The bitch didn't even mention prenatal vitamins. Luckily, I've been taking them for months courtesy of my American BFF ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) l5cents . But woe to the Norwegian women who don't know to take them on their own! It's not like the doctor will be telling you to.
AND ANOTHER THING! She was talking like she's going to be my doctor through this whole thing. She's my general practitioner! Are there no OB-GYNs in this country?!?!?!? Seriously man. The midwife assisting me at home is looking better and better every second.
If they shut down LiveJournal, I will kill everyone in the worldI swear to God.
Everyone.
Let Mommy help youIf my sea monkey turns out to be a girl, and she turns 14 looking like
 this, Mommy is waxing her fucking eyebrows.
COME ON MADONNA. You barely made that shit passable yourself, and your little girl cannot at all. She looks like a burgeoning truck driving lesbian or Ukrainian librarian, neither of which, I have a sneaking suspicion, are the looks she's going for.
No cigarettes = stuffing your faceI know why you stuff your face when you quit smoking, but why do you stuff your face?
Is it absolutely necessary, Universe? I'm doing something good, and this is the reward I get?
Right now, banana chips are my best friend. Last night, it was popcorn.
HOLY SHIT........................
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Getting Knocked UpWhen you've spent your whole life avoiding pregnancy, then suddenly switch gears to attempting pregnancy, it's a very difficult adjustment mentally. I want to have kids, for sure, but there's still a place in the back of my head that hasn't clicked over to the act of actually carrying a kid.
And how weird must that be for the partner? My husband will be watching me walk around, thinking to himself, "My kid's in there!" How sci-fi!
Still don't know if I'm preggers. I don't want to get all excited until there's something to be excited about.
I promise not to post about this ad nauseum. I just need some adjusting. What disease is this?Is it a pregnancy symptom for every meat you eat to taste either like fish or to taste rotten?
The Thai chicken last night -- tasted like fish.
The burger last night -- tasted rotten.
The turkey sandwich tonight -- tasted like fish.
The only thing tasting OK is actual fish or non-meat items. Why I am not going outside today:Seven degrees Fahrenheit, and I don't own a ski mask. Today, in summary:And that was a twit twittering, or a twitterer tweeting. Thank you, and I'm here all week! Tip your waiter.
Automatically shipped by LoudTwitterRoombaThere is nothing more gripping than watching your new Roomba clean rooms.
The whole purpose of the thing is to clean rooms to save your time, but no, you will be fascinated, enrapt, by its cleaning. You will save no time because you are watching its every move and dancing with glee.
I'm sure this observant obsession will wear off, but in the meantime, it is not a time-saver, and I still don't care.
Cleaning FrenzyThere is nothing worse than when you're in surroundings that are being cleaned by someone else. Even if you're participating in the cleaning experience, if you're not the person who came up with the idea and who's heading up the expedition, there's a palpable tension.
I hate cleaning tension! Today, in summary:And that was a twit twittering, or a twitterer tweeting. Thank you, and I'm here all week! Tip your waiter.
Automatically shipped by LoudTwitterBad ideas you proceed with anywayAfter a few Captains, I needed some dinner. Even though I knew I would live to regret it, I went ahead and had a sliced boiled egg on toast for dinner. Boiled egg and Captain Morgan.
Let's see what happens. A Wedding Tale: The Tranny Wedding CrasherAt the wedding, I noticed someone I had not yet met in the side room where the food was being served. As I watched this person, he or she sipped their drink and sauntered around as though they were calmly mingling. Someone came over to me and confirmed what my eyes suspected -- there was a male transvestite in the house.
He walked up to some of my friends and there was some air kissing, which threw me for a loop. Who is that?
I looked around the room to make sure all the gay people were accounted for, and that no one had excused themselves to the bathroom to try out an alterego at the reception. But no, everyone who would even consider getting into drag was still wearing their man clothes. I pulled my personal waiter aside and told him, "See that person in there? They were not invited." He said he'd take care of it.
Then my friend came over to me and said, "Who's the tranny?" I said it was a crasher as far as I knew, and it was being taken care of. I was keeping myself hidden, because the tranny was claiming to know me, and if he saw me, I didn't want to go through the inevitable drama of him pretending to know me and me not pretending at all.
By this time, a few of my male friends had caught wind of the invader. Like most men who have been drinking and are high on the machismo underlying weddings, they were going to do something about it. So together with the male wait staff, my guy friends, including my DJ, approached the tranny and politely said to get the fuck out. As I watched this from the other room, I briefly thought to myself, "I should get someone to snap a picture first," but things went too fast.
A fight almost broke out between my bridesmaid and the tranny before he angrily threw his drink at her (and into the last tray of chicken, ruining it, that bitch). He left and the police were called. I'm sure the venue probably charged me for his drink.
Good times!
EDIT: Refer to the comments from maid of honor l5cents -- she got to hear some dialogue.
Awake, inexplicablyThe weeks before Christmas, my husband and I fell into this weird sleeping pattern where we actually went to bed about 9 pm, and woke up at 6 am. We felt strangely like adults, responsibly making contributions to the world, simply by the times we woke and retired.
Apparently, our bodies are at it again, starting today.
I am blaming it on this no sunlight bullshit we put up with here in Norway. My body has no effing clue what time it is anymore. We both almost woke up at 3 am, but luckily forced ourselves to sleep until 6 am this morning. And we went to bed at midnight!
In related news, I can't get drunk anymore. Well, I can, but not the "fun drunk" where everything's entertaining, even doing dishes. Now I just get slightly intoxicated, eat everything in the house, and pass out. I still get hangovers though, so that's a bonus. The Tranny Wedding CrasherEyebrowsIf I weren't so terrified of it going horribly wrong, I think I would get my sparse eyebrows tattooed in. History is, uh, right nowDid you know that 10% of humans ever born are alive right now?
They are.
So say hello to everyone today, because you are saying hello to 10% of all humankind.
Courtesy of the BBC Knowledge Channel.
And so this is Christmas...My first Christmas away from home.
My first Christmas in the Holy Shit North (no fucking snow here either).
My first Christmas with my husband.
My first Christmas without Mom's dazzling arrangement of cookies.
My first Christmas without my Dad's embarrassing expenditure on over-the-top gift cards for his children.
My first Christmas (as an adult) not spent drinking Captain Morgan from after breakfast until bedtime.
My first Christmas without Publix egg nog (the only egg nog worth drinking, trust me).
My first Christmas actually missing the hijacking of all channels and stations with Christmas programming.
My second Christmas not having sent out my famous Christmas cards that everyone always talks about.
It's 2pm and I've started drinking some wine. I don't care if that's not how they do it at my in-laws house, but I've sacrificed enough already. My Christmas CDs have not gotten played. I have not watched my favorite Christmas movie, Scrooged. I haven't even seen A Christmas Story!!! I won't be playing board games with my family all day, or playing poker, or singing karaoke either.
So I will introduce an element of my family into this cold, bizarre land, where they eat entirely too much cold fish products (herring, sardines, and shrimp salad at breakfast), and I will commence drinking. Then I will proceed with making loud, international phone calls on my in-laws phone.
Cat AllergiesI hate my allergy to cats. It is a ferocious allergy. In turn, I become a very ferocious bitch when having to deal with my allergy. Naturally, everyone I know owns a cat. The problem with most cat people is they don't give a fuck if you're allergic to their pet. They don't vacuum in preparation for your arrival. They don't keep the cat out of the room you'll be sleeping in. They don't make sure your pillows and sheets have been freshly washed. They look at you, filled with what I can only assume is fake sympathy, as your eyes water and your nose runs. You cough and sneeze non-stop, and they inquire into your medication for the billionth time -- how much you took, when can you take it again, what's it called, is it a prescription, etc. As you take another hit off your asthma inhaler to quell the waves of lung-clogging phlegm, they tell you they feel bad. Look, Cat People. If your cat were not kryptonite to SuperMe, I would like the cat a hell of a lot more. I would probably like you a hell of a lot more. As things stand right now, I hate you and your need to have an emotionally aloof animal. I hate your failure to recognize how filthy your house is despite the fact that your creature crawls all over every square inch of it.
When's the last time you vacuumed the windowsills? The ridge behind the couch cushions? The stair railings? Your fucking cat has rubbed its face and ass all over every horizontal surface and 80% of the vertical surfaces. Consider me the white glove of house inspection and consider yourself a failure.
Fucking Cat People. You ruin everything as far as I'm concerned.
P.S. Merry Christmas everyone.Today, in summary:And that was a twit twittering, or a twitterer tweeting. Thank you, and I'm here all week! Tip your waiter.
Automatically shipped by LoudTwitterProduct Endorsement!I came across this when setting up our wedding registry at Bed Bath and Beyond. I enjoy coffee with a head, so this milk frother was right up my alley. Long story short, we didn't pick it up in the states, but I did get another brand's version at a store here in Oslo for the same price, and I absolutely love it.
It does the job wonderfully, quickly, and it is the tiniest gadget -- it makes the whole process very easy. I've been using it non-stop for my coffee, my teas, my everything. I highly recommend it as a Christmas gift for those of you still shopping. Available on Amazon.com and at BB&B.
Today, in summary:And that was a twit twittering, or a twitterer tweeting. Thank you, and I'm here all week! Tip your waiter.
Automatically shipped by LoudTwitterToday, in summary:And that was a twit twittering, or a twitterer tweeting. Thank you, and I'm here all week! Tip your waiter.
Automatically shipped by LoudTwitter
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