When Are You Due?

“When are you due?”  “Are you pregnant?” “Take care of that little baby of ours!” (Ours??) “How far along are you?” **rubs my belly**  Or the worst of all – “Please tell me you’re getting fat and not pregnant!”

If I had a dollar for every time I’ve been asked that by a patient since I started working out of the home, I would be at least halfway to my new tattoo (it’ll be of Audrey Hepburn, by the way, by the one and only Sarah Miller!  But I digress…).

Not a week, NOT ONE, has gone by, without someone asking about my “pregnancy”.  I had 7 people in 4 days straight say it in one way or another.  Do you know what it’s like to say LOUDLY, in a room full of patients, that you’re not pregnant; that you’re just fat???  Do you?????  Do you know how hard it is to laugh it off too?????   Yes, I imagine that there might be a reader or two out there with similar situations, but not the whole lot of you.

I had two kids.  I got lazy.  I ate a lot.  But, on the brighter side, I’ve lost 15 lbs in the last couple of months.  I’m not down to my goal weight yet, but I’ll get there.  You can bet your ass, I will.  Will my stomach ever get back to “normal”?  You can bet your ass, it won’t.  But I’m still going to lose it anyway, because I’m tired of these….these….motherfuckers (YES.  I fucking said it.) saying this shit to me all the time.

There are clothes that I bought that I love to wear.  They happen to accentuate my misshapen body.  It’s not going to stop me from wearing them.  And if you’re sitting there saying “Wear looser clothes, then.” – fine.  You go out and buy them for me.  These are the clothes that I like.  And one day, I’ll fit even better into them.

No matter what they say, I still get compliments, winks and different types of proposals too.  Granted, I’m married – no harm, no foul though.  All of these people don’t know when to keep their mouths shut, no matter what it’s saying.

Until I do lose the weight that I want, go ahead and say something to my face.  I’ve been wanting to throat-punch a bitch so bad these days.  And like I said before, I’m Flawless…

May 27, 2015 – Paris

Woke up at 2 in the morning and went to smoke (habit).  Ernie heard me and told me to come back to bed.  But, I couldn’t.  Had some coffee (by this point, the staff were used to me asking for extra coffee, creamer and sugar – I did it every day), sat around, went outside and talked to my mom at one point.  She told me a bunch of shit that was going on – same shit, same city, different day.  Then I went back and sat at the desk with a cup of coffee, contemplating writing in my journal when I actually fell asleep, head on desk.  I woke up at some point and said to myself “This won’t work”, so I finally made it back to bed.  By the time Ernie woke me, it was 7:00.  We had the Louvre to do today!  I hurried to get ready and off we went.

The Louvre is such a magnificent and confusing building at the same time.  I think I got some great pictures there.  I just wish the Mona Lisa had come out more vividly on my camera.  What are you going to do, when you can’t have any flash of any kind? (Something I got in trouble about at one of the other museums.  It was the AF Illuminator, not the flash.  Whatever.)

So, we quickly went through the museum, taking random pictures along the way.  Then we went to the cafeteria and got some pretty good food and they even had wine!  (I seriously have no idea how much wine we put away during this trip.)

After lunch, I wanted to go to the gift shop (one of many in that building), even though I wanted to originally stop at the one by the Mona Lisa.  (I did stop there, but Ernie told me to just wait.)  We headed to where it was pointing toward “boutiques”.  Bad idea.  They turned out to be different upscale stores that had nothing to do with the museum, that I could tell.  So, we had to go through security and ticket checking again.  I went to another gift shop and something he said or did just set me off and I was just in a pissy mood then.  We quickly, but quietly, started to argue.  I put the stuff back and we were going to leave.  But he said I would be mad if I didn’t get something.  So where did we end up?  At the fucking Mona Lisa shop.  All I kept thinking was “This is not how I want to spend my last full day in Paris.”  We bought trinkets and such and made the trek out of there and back to the hotel.  He bought me some ice cream as a nice gesture though.

We regrouped at the hotel, then we took the Metro to Notre Dame de Champs and took a walk through Le Jardin du Luxembourg.  From there, I had to find pain medication for my feet, which had two open blisters and swollen feet from walking.  Found a pharmacy and got some Advil (which ended up not really helping).

We headed through the Latin Quarter to see the Pantheon.  Little did we know the police or some group had it blocked off blocks away from all sides..  Ernie was disappointed (I was a little too) so we walked some more, not really talking.  When I brought up the catacombs (which he seemed interested in going to while we were home and he even brought it up at the hotel earlier), he refused to go there.  Fine.  Whatever.  This day is just fucking fantastic.

We found a place for drinks and dessert and had a quiet yet contentious talk about things.  We got through the talk and then went in search of dinner.  We found Le Petit Zinc, which was pretty good.  Actually, all the places that we stopped at were really good or above.  I tried different things, including the way dishes (plats) were prepared.  We were sat right away at all of these places, at outside tables (remember the whole smoking bit) and we could just people-watch and observe our surroundings.

We went back to the hotel for a while.  When I took off my shoes, I literally cried.  My feet hurt so bad.  It was just too much.  Ernie laid down while I repacked as much as I could so I didn’t have to do it in the morning.  I decided that I would wear my Choo’s, because I thought my feet wouldn’t be as swollen by then.

Ernie wanted to go to the bridge that came from the Invalides with these gilded statues at each corner.  I decided that, even though i was limping around, I would go with him.  It only seemed right to experience it with him.  Little did I realize, first, how far away it was and second, about the spectacular view of the Eiffel Tower lit up from that vantage point.  I was glad I went, even though I could have really used a Tuk-Tuk or even a wheelchair at that time.  We got pictures and went back to the hotel to finally sleep.

May 20, 2014 – London

Where to begin?  Even though our flight to London was delayed, we still made pretty good time getting here.  So much so, that we walked almost 12 miles today (yes, I counted.  Or rather, my phone did.)  I’m pretty fucking beat.  Yet, I’m too wired to go to bed.  I plan on getting up at 5:00 am (it’s 11:00 pm now), have breakfast at 7:30 and hopefully be out the door shortly after.

I took down a couple reminder notes throughout the day, but right now, I’m having trouble thinking about that stuff.  About the problems and frustrations Ernie was having, getting us Oyster cards for the Underground.  Or the feelings and irritations over my navigation skills (or lack thereof) in trying to find a particular restaurant.  I’m in a different country that’s going through random places of renovations, making it even harder.  (I have this problem at home too.  Why would that be different here?)  Or seeing Buckingham Palace up close.  Or about, for once in my life, not feeling homesick.  The very beginning of the walking we will be putting ourselves through over the next 7 days in 2 different cities.  Trying to take pictures without looking like a tourist but you’re damn well still going to stick out like a sore thumb anyway, or however that saying goes.  These are just some of the things running through my head simultaneously now.

We had a great first day in London.  Aside from some bad emotional moments, it was good.  Life was good.


Now is where we come to why I’m not writing about my day here in great detail.  It has to do with my former future nephew-in-law (got that one?  Give it a minute to sink in.), whom I just unfriended and blocked (finally) on Facebook.  I’m not chronicling my vacation on FB in real time for safety reasons, but I’m still going to check my phone for notifications.  I’m half off the grid.  So, I go to check it tonight and I have 6 of them.  To tell you the truth, I can’t remember what the first one was, but I think it had something to do with our girls.  The other 5 were from him, liking months-to-years old posts that I was tagged in.  (There is a whole saga behind this that I’m not even getting into.  Boo and hiss all you want, I’m keeping it lean.)  I don’t know or understand how my niece is enduring all of this , because it’s straight up pissing me off now.  I felt bad for him, concerned for his well-being.  I mean, I still don’t want anything happening to him, but fucking let it go already.  You’re stalking now.  And harassing my family.  I don’t want to hear the sob stories anymore.  It’s enough!  You’re 28 years old.  Wake up and do something with yourself instead of becoming “that” guy.

I was on the phone with my mom about this a little while ago and she yelled at me.  It was well-intentioned because she doesn’t want this to ruin my grand vacation.  But, for the love of God, it’s 11:45 pm here, I’m drinking coffee and writing about the little fucktard, instead of my experiences today.  There.  I said it.  Ernie wouldn’t be happy with me but I can’t keep biting my tongue.  I wanted to message this boy earlier, but I got scolded, if you will, so I didn’t do it.  However, this is my journal (well, now it’s my blog) and I don’t give a shit.  Christ, look at how much room its taken up already!

What I need to do is just take my meds and go to bed.  But, for one, I told myself I would write about my day before doing so and two, I’m just furious.  I guess I just needed to get it out.

Anyway, my ultimate goal when I get back is to tell my vacation story through a photo book.  Now, I got random thoughts going through my head and it’s making me sad and a wee bit homesick.  So much for what I said earlier in the post.  I hate that feeling, the homesickness part.  It ruins my vacation a little.  but apparently not as much as this kid is doing right now.  And I’m letting him. I’m already worried enough about my family, whether I’m there or here.  I feel spent now.  I think I’m going to run outside real quick and finally go to bed.  New day, new beginnings (and possibly couture shopping too!).  I’m out. **drops mic**