Love and Hate

I love, that's capital L-O-V-E, my new straightener. I'm going to run off and marry it and not have babies with it. It heats up in 90 seconds to 400 degrees. I didn't realize how awful my old straightener was until I used a new one. It is definitely worth every penny I paid for it.

I hate, that's capital H-A-T-E, the Electrics. An old celctic christian rock band that Ben really liked when we first started college. This CD is pure torture to me. Ben decided to play it last night (after years of languishing dusty in our CD tower) while cleaning our trashed, that's capital T-R-A-S-H-E-D, kitchen. However, I have to say that watching him dance through the kitchen and living room was quite hysterical.

Well, I tried to take a good picture that captured my new hair by Liz but its hard to see the layers in the picture. Plus, I have a retarded look on my face in every picture (since I was trying to snap it myself). However here is the best one as far as seeing my hair:


Finally, a to do list of posts I need to write:

1. Since there has been a lot of talk of quilting, I need to post a picture of my work in progress.
2. The post I've been putting off for over a year, the last installment of Life Changing Events
3. Analysis of the first six weeks in retrospect

Hair By Liz

Ahhh, sweet bliss....I am sporting a new do. My best friend Liz is a stylist at a nice salon down in the Gap ad city of downtown Northville. Today Ben and I traveled over there for hair cuts and she actually gave me a real style (in lieu of plain long frizzy hair). Now I am the proud owner of some cool wispy layers and Ben no longer has a tennis ball head. Thanks Liz, you rock!

When we last spoke I was heading off for my once in a lifetime blimp ride. Despite it being a windy day, the ride was really smooth. The pilot said wind was a good thing because blimps don't have brakes and therefore need the wind to stop. I guess that makes sense if you think about it. The blimp holds four people including the pilot. They had me sit in the front and my dad in the back. We had to wear those gigantic earphones with the microphones attached. Once we hit our max altitude of 1800 feet we flew over the UofM football stadium and then turned around and flew over my dad's store that he manages. It was excellent timing because they were unloading a delivery truck so all of his coworkers were outside. I thought the blimp would be bumpy but in actuality it is really smooth and rocks like a boat. Unfortunately, I get sick on boats and at many points during the flight thought ralphing was imminent. To combat this, I bit the inside of my lip until I drew blood in an effort to keep my bagel down. All in all, it was a great experience (the blimp ride, not the near ralphing and lip biting).

Today we have been home three months and for those of you keeping track I am still not pregnant. Funny how that happens when so many brother's cousin's roommate's dog walker got pregnant three months after adopting. Yeah, it is a big shocker to me as well (um yes, I am indeed being sarcastic). Its weird that people still keep bringing this up. In fact, my mother is the worst offender of all. I have to keep repeatedly telling her, "Mom, I don't even want that. I don't think it would be the best thing for our family." Somehow she doesn't get this. Whatever.

So as promised, the blimp pictures:

Heart Broken

If you are of the praying sort, please pray for the Guatemalans. I've been scanning every article I can find on the mudslides to see if there is any mention of Mazatanango, the city where Gabe was born and most likely where his birth family remains. Its seems that most of the devastation occurred in that area west of Guatemala City. This is horrific for a country already stricken with poverty and hardship. Please pray for all the families waiting to bring their babies home. I can't imagine how difficult it would be to wonder if your child is OK.

My heart is really broken over this.

Bloomin' Onion

I just overheard my husband call my son Mufasa while giving him a bath. I'm not sure what that is all about??

Julie tagged me over at Tales from the Stirrups to post the fifth sentence from my 23rd post. So here it is in all of its depressiveness:

"Afterward, I still continued to bleed for weeks"

This was from my post titled Life Changing Event Part II - Infertility...The Process. I was describing how my body couldn't actually miscarry and how basically I was hemorrhaging. Wonderful, huh? Good times........good times.

So guess what? My dad won a contest held by an AM sport radio station out of Ann Arbor and tomorrow he and I are going to ride on the Outb@ck Blooming Oni0n blimp over UofM's stadium. How frickin' cool is that! I'm going to ride on a blimp..........Sweet! The only problem is I will need to leave Gabe with Ben's mom. We tried that on Saturday and he screamed the entire time. She's a brave, brave lady to try it again.

You know what else? I'm getting really tired of people feeling the need to comment on Gabe's inability to crawl. Whenever I say, "No, he doesn't crawl yet. He's on his own time table." I always get the same response, "Oooohh". I even got this from the lady running the McDonald's drive through. You know what...don't say it like that...Ooooh. Is it really necessary for people to fuel my already free flowing neuroses? There is nothing wrong with the boy, he will crawl when he is ready.

Today a lady at Meijer (similar to Walmart) told me I looked great for just having a baby (I'm very petite and only weigh 100 lbs). Instead of just saying thanks and walking away, I explained that I didn't give birth. I should have just kept my mouth shut. Oh well, she was a nice lady anyhow...except that she asked me how old I was. I hate that, I really do. Its not a compliment to me at all. I hate looking 12. Its not a blessing, I don't care how young I will look at 40.

OK, so clearly this post is rambly and incohesive so I must end it now. If you hear on the news tomorrow about a blimp going down...well...it was nice knowing all of you.

Finally, here's the part where I awkwardly transition to pictures.