sunday driver

You remember my love/hate relationship with cars, right? I knew you did. Despite of my strong dislike for Car Culture, I do love to go for a drive. Come on, y’all. It’s fucking gorgeous here – drought be damned – and, well, I just love to go for a drive. There was the perfect excuse: my uncle in LA, the lawyer one, wanted me to go check out a house for him. He wants to move here; he wants to live in Virginia again; he wants to build a crazy eco-perfect house with a tree and a stream in it; he wants to move this 200 year old house from one county to another; he wants to come back to the tiny town where he spent idyllic country summers on his grandma’s farm. We’ll see how all that goes (He’ll be shocked – shocked, I tell you – about how crazy things look when you cross the river heading out of the tiny town, because they built a new bridge. We were shocked – we said, repeatedly, “what the…” and “oh my god” and “how did we get here?” and again “what the…”). Anyway. I do love a drive (see above), and so I snatched up SAR and off we went. To see the 200 year old house (it used to be a tavern, I’ve read), and to visit her mama. Delightful. We couldn’t really get up to the house, because it looked occupied, and I am loathe to snoop around other people’s homes, but that gave us all the more time for a visit. With tea. And there was the moment on 53 where there was a clearing in the trees and we could see the mountains to the west, blue as you’d want them and far away. Fab.

And, in the world of ttc, I’d been off the boards at FF* for so long, my name didn’t show up anymore. Oh noes! Well, I remedied that. With a lame-ass post where I didn’t acknowledge all the folks there I should have, but managed to talk a blue streak about myself. I need to keep up better with those women; they keep up with me. It was a rough week, but things are looking up. My donor is sounding more positive, and I have the back up plan you can’t beat with a stick. So put your sticks away.

*Stupid FF, how I love to hate you and your hetero-normative “baby-dancing.” Because I am a VIP there (meaning I give them some money for extra features), I get a box labeled “Pregnancy Monitor” that tells me things like what the due date would be for this cycle, how many temps there are above the cover line and analyzes “Intercourse Timing” (ahem). Now, I have no “baby-dancing” recorded on my chart this cycle, because a) I don’t do that and even if I did what they mean by that I would NOT call it that because it’s stupid, and b) I did not inseminate at. all. this cycle, which all of y’all know and you’d think FF would know it, too because it is the place where I record such information. Still, it gives me a “Poor” in the “Intercourse Timing” box. Really? Thanks, FF. Go baby-dance yourself.

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3 Comments on “sunday driver”

  1. gold star says:

    SWEET. Am very very happy to hear that donor is getting his shit together.

    And happy about your backup. My stick is holstered.

  2. Timaree says:

    I am very, very happy to hear that things are lining up again for you, but my stick is also cocked and loaded. (Did I say “cocked”?)

    As for “Go baby-dance yourself.” Ha! I may have to steal that (with proper credit, of course). I understand, though. I hate it when FF tells me I have poor intercourse timing. Stupid, stupid heterocentric program! But don’t feel too bad. It’s telling me I have poor timing this month too, and I did come into contact with sperm (although it was certainly NOT through any sort of baby dancing).

  3. hard girl says:

    Baby dancing is a stupid phrase even to those of us who do have sex with men to get pregnant. It takes all the adult-ness and intentionality out of it and just seems kind of juvenile and embarrassed. (I almost wrote adultery instead of adult-ness, but that’s something different altogether! I’m sure there’s an actual word I’m looking for, but who cares.)

    PS. I want that house. Bad. Can I park it in your driveway for a few years?


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