What's All the Eggcitement About? har har

My St. Paul weekend was great. I ate overpriced cafe food, hit up a record/clothing/head shop and generally indulged my inner hedonist. There was plenty of outfit changing, hair cuts, whiskey, pipes, acorn squash (with brown sugar), sleeping and a complete lack of showers! A very fine weekend indeed.

To radically change directions, I've been contemplating becoming an egg donor. (Can you be an egg "donor" if you get paid? I guess I'm still donating said egg to another couple but if there's payment does it lose it's meaning? I guess the extraction is somewhat painful and the screening process is time-comsuming, is it a cop-out if I view the payment as "compensation?" Why do I feel guilty for even thinking about receiving money for this process, it is my egg after all and it's coming out of my body... Ahhh, calm down!)

Ever since I became of fan of Julie's blog and read her entire archived history and laughed and cried and sighed and sympathised and cheered with her about her fertility challenges, I've thought about the good I could do in this process. I could also get about 3 grand which could go into the house down-payment fund... Or it could get me through multiple semesters... Or it could hang out and wait til Lola or I decide to take up a hobby that deals with band saws, nail guns or blowtorches...

BUUUUUUTTTT... on the other hand, while I'm considering how wonderful it would be if my "donation" ended up completing a family and realizing somebody's dream of becoming a mother, my neurotic little mind starts ticking.

How could I not be curious as to what a person with half my genetic makeup is like. I would want to know if my genes dominated, is the child's hair curly? Does he or she have smallish almond eyes? What about those baby hairs that never grow right at the hairline? If it's a girl, does she have the same personality quirks as me and Lo? I feel like I should warn the prospective parents that in my family, we get real cranky, real fast if we're not fed on time, be aware. In short, I feel like I might get to emotionally attached to "my egg" and the genetics associated.

And then, when my mom sees the flyer I brought home from school, she says, "What if that child and Lola grow up someday and met and fall in love and never know they're related." Oh, thanks Mom, now I'm worrying about some crazy Lifetime Movie plot come to real life, my life, Lo's life...

But then I come full-circle and think about the good things I could do with that money, I could invest it for Lola's schooling. I could give my child a solid start while helping someone have one of their own. Plus, we Llanases are a healthy bunch, we make exceptionally cute children and it's really something I believe in.

Will I do it?

The Demerits of Being Single, aka Life Without Tee

But I also have some big hangups on being free. Most of these things I could probably find in another partner but some of them are specific to Tee and I could search for a thousand years and never find somebody who possessed them all.

Listing things about being single is easy, everyone likes space and time to themselves. But remembering things shared, personal "bliks" (shout out to Professor Dunn) that became inside jokes or couple habits, those will be listed in much more detail, it's the least I can do in tribute to a 3.5 year relationship.

When I go to Chocolate Factory and "forget" to order my sub without the jalapeno bacon (a ritual started specifically for Tee), I have nobody to give it to and end up throwing it away. Sidenote: The first time this happened, I was sans Lola and couldn't have given someone the bacon anyway but when I realized it was time to break this habit, I cried.

I don't have anyone to play with in the shower. Now reader, I know I have Lola and we do indeed play in the shower but that's not exactly what I mean. I used to have a partner who would slip into the bathroom as stealthily as possible (which never worked since you could always feel the breath of fresh air opening the door yielded) and undress, rip open the shower curtain and shake his wanker at me, hollering. Does this sound charming, I don't know know how it sounds to someone other than me, it was our blik. I would also routinely be spied upon, which can be embarassing or really sexy, depending.

I miss the hot lovin' you get when you first fall for someone. The desire to be with one another ALL the time, an experience I've only had once, with Tee and I wonder if it'll ever happen again. I hope most desparately it will. I would actually wake up early, drive to Tee's and spend an hour or two in bed with him before I had to be at work, I surely did love him.

I miss cracking his back after sex.

I miss being able to speak my nonsense way of talking (made-up words, trailing sentences, subject changes and all) and having someone not only understand me, but interpret for the rest of our friends. The only person that comes close is Megan.

I no longer have someone to send articles about things that are dear to me: giant squid, grizzly bears, mummies etc. I know Tee mostly didnt' care about such things but he pretended to for my sake and I occasionally got articles he thought I would like, a pleasant suprise.

Nobody dances with me in my parents' living room to no music anymore.

I don't get to hang out with Tee's Grandma, Teresa. A BIG bummer, she's as chill as her daughter is tense and anal!

Nobody to force-read authors to, then discuss books in length.

I never get touched anymore as someone's equal. It's either touching as Mommy, touching to get a co-worker's attention or not being touched at all. I'm feeling semi-ice queen.

Testing, testing one two three

Is blogging a self-absorbed fad? Am I a pretentious mother to include Lola's name as the title of this blog when I know I'm going to be focusing more on my perspective as a single-ish, semi-self-sufficient woman rather than a 1.5 year old minor demon? Am I going to whine this entire blog.



NO. End of the introspection, on with the self-absorbed (yet let's face it, oddly theraputic) fad.



Name: Etta

Age: 23

Position in life: mother, "administrative assistant" (what a crock of shit, I'm a secretary striving to be as good as Maggie Gyllenhaal, any woman who can function in an office with her hands tied behind her back, wow.), sister (shout out Nelly), daughter-still-living-at-home, and cunty ex-girlfriend.



At this point, I'm not sure if anybody will be reading this so I'm going to go all out, bare all and say "fuck it," I'm not going to spare feelings for once, I'm going to sling dirt and swears and I have a feeling it's going to feel good.



Be prepared.