So here I am- wondering what in the Sam Hill I've been doing that has kept me from blogging. I mean..let's be honest, I didn't expect my fast paced, glamorous lifestyle in Indianapolis to keep me so busy. What with all the traffic jams behind tractors and parades of Geese as well as standing in line at Walmart, I can't seem to find a free minute! Jealous aren't ya? Vegas has nothing on this place!
My ass size has resembled a slinky: wide then thin (-er). Not sure what that is all about. Oh..well there was the HCG diet that I did and lost 25 lbs. That was pretty cool, but even now while I'm staying at the same weight it seems to undulate for reasons I don't quite grasp. Is gravity different here in Indiana? Or is my buddha belly moving from front to back without my permission?
Another phenomena that I am none to pleased about is that A LOT of women in Indiana have cute short hair do's. I am no longer a hairstyle minority. It's like that craze for Jennifer Aniston's hairstyle back in the 90's. This must be a midwest thing. So of course I tried making my style somewhat more trendy, you know blow drying it more forward and such. Made me look like an elderly Justin Beiber. I thought about going all Miley Cyrus with the long mohawk thing, but realized, just in time, that she's been on the verge of going off the deep end and really I've done crazy and I'm all set with that. There was a brief thought on getting extensions and then I realized that I've got no funds for that unless I start manufacturing some sort of illegal substance with the ingredients of ephedrine, battery acid, and ground glass. We all know I can't cook and so I chalked up that potential money maker to lack of ability. So I guess I will grow out my fro which will put my hairstyle in the "MOM Zone" of hairstyles for the next gazillion years. UGH...no offense to any of you Moms. This isn't too bad if this is the worst tragedy I've had to endure so far.
My doctor actually asked me about my thoughts on having children. He gave me that "your clock is ticking and really if you're gonna do it you might want to think about cutting down on your shenanigans and look for a potential sperm donor/father/ child support provider" talk. I basically gave him my "if I wanted any oral diarrhea about my advanced maternal age, I would just ask my father for advice on this subject" look, but only replied with a very basic..yeah, I know.
Children. As in those beings that would inherit some of my genetics, and the genetics of someone who felt it was a good idea to procreate with me (God knows that automatically makes them not so bright). We're talking a child that could very well be snarky, smart, chubby, who excels at parallel parking. I think it's hard pressed to believe we need more of those types in the world. Although....passing on my charming sarcasm and unstoppable wit would be worth further consideration. To be honest, I would really only become impregnated if I accidentally fell on some sperm that just happened to be in my way and we all know I'm no Mary!
Dear Fertility Goddess-
Keep your crack whore ideas of me being a mother to yourself and stop trying to kick start my biological clock because it's really not a great idea. I mean really, my crowning achievement in the last 6 months is that I was able to mimic the hairstyle of a Teeny bopping man-child. So that's all I've got to say about that.
Your faithful servant- Brooke-cobwebs-in-my-uterus-Albertson
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