neon genesis

Today is my unofficial first day at the new office. (Tomorrow is the official 1st day)

And, it's all very intimidating.

There are 4 times more people here than at my prior office. I’ve already forgotten the majority of names of people I was introduced to [no amount of memory tricks could help me there]. The office is much bigger. There is no fixed seating plan, it’s pretty much first come, first served. It’s a whole new … atmosphere. Less mucking about; more getting the job done.

People here are very professional looking. Not in a runway model sense. Just – these people look like auditors. I have this urgent need to go shopping, so I can fit in. Can’t look like a hobo for the rest of my time here… That’s just not cricket.

I must have some serious self image and inadequacy issues, coz I have all these surging fears, threatening to drown me. I wonder if I will adapt or die. I wonder what the future holds. I wonder if this was a good idea… if I will flourish.

I’m grateful that I have a wonderful man by my side, helping me and looking out for me every step of the way.

On the pregnancy front; 4 months preggers now. My pants don’t fit – none of the traitorous buggers. I have a couple maternity tops I wear, and some pants. They will become my uniform over the next couple months. In these tops, I don’t even look all that preggers, which is a good thing. But, my regular clothes make me look like a stuffed Michelin man, ready for the fat farm.

Other than nasal congestion, I’m doing fine. When I get hungry, I still feel like I’m gonna die of fiery stomach starvation if I don’t eat immediately. But, this too will pass. Speaking of which, I’m pretty hungry right now. * sigh * will be ordering sammiches soon.

Food, glorious food.

A funny feeling

I feel fat.

There is nothing about me that says pregnant right now. In fact - I wonder if I still am. (Next sonar tomorrow - that always drastically influences my perception)

I can still sort of fit into some of my, what used to be bigger pants. The regular fitting ones are a dead loss now. They hang there in my cupboard, mocking me. They take up space, but I dare not get rid of them - Might use em again after the poppage.

I leave my parents' house tomorrow. I am moving to another city 5 hours away. It's a bit initimidating, but exciting at the same time. I look forward to it. It's gonna be one helluva adventure. And if the career ride gets a bit too much for me, I can always just get off. (Got my articles signed off 3 days ago. A great feeling)

I'm 4 months pregnant. And I just feel fat.

No more nausea, or cravings, moodswings are minimal. This is the chilled out 2nd trimester. All that really happens now, is that my belly is supposed to grow. And it has accepted this challenge with zeal. I need more fat pants.

Starting this week, my baby can now hear. I wonder what I should play for him/her. On the other hand, I am now nasally congested; another one of the many perks of having a bun in the oven. I hope this will pass soon. I have so many questions for the doctor. Tomorrow can't come fast enough.

QE results today. Expectations: Low. Mood: Excited at prospect of leaving.

Tomorrow just can't come fast enough.

Rapid exit

I spent the morning hugging the toilet in this june winter frost. it was less than appealing. i lost my whole breakfast. i feel fragile.

I don't know if it is morning sickness, no nausea accompanied this calling for george and louis. I don't know if it is stress or exhaustion. I spent the past 3 years being stressed out at work. That's over now. Is it stress about the impending wedding? I don't know. (T minus 4 days, folks)

Usually, when i used to get bad stress, i'd get tension headaches. no puking. never puking. and i spent the first 10 weeks of this preggersness being so nauseous i could barely eat / walk / work. so, what is this now? i can't get this every morning. I don't have enough leave for this!

My body is against me.

On the plus side, if nothing i eat stays down this week, my wedding dress will definitely fit on saturday.

Preparations of a prolific kinde

So, for those who don't know it yet, my wedding is in less than 2 weeks.To that end, there have been a lot of preparations and so on. For the most part, all the details are being handled by the parentals, which is great.

The most pressing matter on my mind these days has however been, the first dance of the wedding. i have a few issues:

• my groom is twice my height.
• we haven't decided on a song yet.
• we've never close danced. ever. strange as that is.

okay, so the height thing should be lessenend by the scary heels i'll be wearing that day. i should be almost shoulder length to him. i can hope. and if all else fails, he has agreed to pick me up for it. sigh. sometimes it's hard to be a midget.

As for the song -- there are a bunch of contenders. We have decided to go classic romantic. like, for example:

• You Are My First, My Last, My Everything (Barry White)
• Heaven (Bryan Adams)
• Endless Love (Diana Ross & Lionel Richie)
• At Last (Etta James)
• Let It Be Me (Everly Brothers)
• The Way You Look Tonight (Frank Sinatra)

He added some Westlife, I added some BoyzIIMen. I have no idea what we are gonna pick. but, at least we have a list. That's a start, am I right?

Update - we just may go with KCi and Jojo's All My Life. Who knows. We have a couple days to decide.

We have never close danced. It's a bit of a logistical nightmare, really. He is far far away. And when we are together, he is very TALL.

On the upside, i will be there a couple days before the wedding. So, we will have a practice run. If it does not go well, then - well, we don't HAVE TO dance the first dance. I mean, we can give that a skip. there will be a thousand eyes... all staring... boring into us... evaluating... judging...

*sigh*

No pressure.

Dreamscapes

i had a dream the other night.

i dreamt i was on the beach. i was already a mommy. my little one was walking beside me, jumping from driftwood, to sand, looking for seashells.

she was of darkest ebony, shining brilliantly in the twilight. curious, and full of life. questions bubbled from her, her inquisitive nature seeming to mirror mine. she was joyful and happy, content with the answers i gave her, only until the next question crumpled her brow.

"mommy, why is the sky red? what are the fishes doing under all that water? how do they breathe, mommy? are we going home soon? can't we stay here?"

she had fiercely red hair, like someone i may have created on an RPG. Neverwinternights springs to mind, though i always made my characters blue-skinned with long flowing white hair. I remember feeling nothing but love and adoration for my offspring, as we walked side by side on the beach.

i was wearing a long dress, billowing in the wind. i remember feeling at peace. i remember the pride swelling in my heart as my little girl found another seashell, and whooped with delight.

it was a good dream.

Post script
At the risk of sounding ungrateful, and please know that i hope for a healthy one of either flavour, i would rather like to have a little girl. I think this dream sort of punctuates that dream. She would be the apple of her daddy's eye. Adored by both her parents. and maybe just a little spoiled.

Ode to maternity wear

The joy! The wonder! The comfort!

I never knew comfort until I tried on some maternity wear over the weekend. It was wonderful.

My body has gone into some form of rebellion against my clothes. My clothes are losing the battle. Everything is tight; the zips of my pants have decided that closing is for the birds. My tops have decided that hugging my belly bulge is all they feel like doing. Comfort went out the door.

And she who is not comfy in her clothes, will not be relaxed, or be confident.

Enter maternity clothes: The great war mediator. The negotiator. The saviour of my comfort zone.

2 grand later, I am finally comfy in my new threads.

Brief interjection

The spawning of this blog was a direct result of a feeling of misdirection and general confusion. I felt this new development deserved it's own venting space. A new creation for a new life. And, as such, this did not belong in the padded cage.

So, therefore, herewith, the lunar eclipse / making of / progression of --> a hybrid baby. Or, where ebony meets ivory - an unexpected clash. Or, new beginnings. Or, the life and times of spontaneous unplanned implantation of a hybrid kind. Or, Ye olde hybred bastardisatione.

I figured "Hybrid theory" would probably have copyright issues attached. Who woulda thunk it. I sure as L didn't.

And, therefore, i now present, from a barren wasteland of fruitlessness: the prodigious progeny of prolific proportions.

(Pardon all the puns...)