“Our speedometer has melted and as a result it's very hard to see with any degree of accuracy exactly how fast we were going.”

It begins with the usual stress thoughts about my doctor’s appointment…. It’ll be fine, the heartbeat will be strong, the doctor will give me awesome news, I can tell everyone at the wedding… Oh shit the wedding. Should I tell everyone at the wedding? Will they be mad? Hurt? Understanding? Is it the best time to do that? It’s someone’s WEDDING hello? Will I have a choice? Sometimes pregnant girls look at other pregnant girls and just know right? I’m not showing too much but I have gained a few pounds… Ack will the dress fit?!! The dress will fit, it’ll be fine, I tried it on last week I haven’t gained THAT much weight, it’s a beautiful dress, I’ll look gorgeous. I’ll do my hair… Goddamn hair. Looks like I glued a bale of hay to my head. All dried out and straw like. Looked like ass in the family pictures. I’ll have to curl the ends to try and hide how stringy it looks. Just what it needs, more heat after beating it into submission for 45 minutes with a dryer and straightener. Oh well, there’s always the makeup…. I’ll put on the eye shadow from my wedding, what to do about my eyebrows?! Sue has such awesome eyebrows all swoopy and archy, how the hell does she do that?! Too bad I can’t get them waxed. Instead I’ll just probably over pluck them again, that’s always a good look. Everyone can stare at my eyebrow muscles; I’ll look like Goldie Hawn or something…. No. Not Goldie Hawn, Whoopi. Whoopi Goldberg, that’s who I’ll look like. My eyebrow muscles making facial expressions instead of actual eyebrows. Weird how she doesn’t have any eyebrows at all. What’s that about? Wax? Shaving? Damaged hair follicles? Tricitilimania? I totally need to google that. She’s such a funny actress, maybe it’s a gimmick or something…. Hahaha, Michael Cera looked so funny all slouched over and cranky and painted gold in the slave part of Year One. That was such a funny movie… Wait. What the fuck? Why am I thinking about Michael Cera painted gold?!!! ********* I love when big burly dudes star in children’s movies. Here’s how I think those movies get made: Big time movie producer mom (or whatever job title comes up with movie ideas) is watching Disney channel with her kids thinking to herself; If I have to watch Billy Ray Cyr.us or Zac Eff.ron one more goddamn time I’m going scoop my eyeballs out of my ocular cavities with my three speed pearl inlay hummingbird vibrator I swear to Christ. *Gets her cell phone* “Vickie? Hi, it’s me. Get me Vin Diesel on the phone now.” ……. “Vin? Hi, it’s so and so from Gob Shite movie productions, have I got an idea for you…” Anyone else think that’s accurate? However they come about, I’m all for Vin Diesel and The Rock playing in movies my kids will someday want to watch. Good call Hollywood, good call. In case you’re wondering, when I had cable, at night there was a sex toy home shopping network. Hells to the yes I watched that shit. *Guts update* Everything is good, but we had a stressful appt yesterday. Couldn’t find the heart beat on the stupid ass Doppler. So I stared up the lame dolphin in a water fall or some bullshit poster for the second time in my life listening to the echo of my heart pound alone in my stomach. When the intern and dr leave the room I proceed to as quietly as I can Lose. My. Shit. Get taken to the ultra sound room and see him and his little heart beating just fine. He was facing us and the placenta is by the bladder and in between the baby and us is the reason they gave for not being able to hear it. Gather up ‘shit’ lost and go grocery shopping. Everyone there says they’re taking me straight to the ultra sound room from here on out. I’m cool with that. Next appt in 2 weeks.