Emma-Bug

Luck is no lady, she's a chain-smoking, booze hound of a hag

I admit it, there was once a seedy part of me that loved to wallow in the twisted morality of Las Vegas. The deviant behavior, the misplaced ethics, the dipping of one's tootsies in the dark waters of vulgarity, it all made for some really good people watching. A closet voyeur's paradise. So you can imagine my surprise when this last trip somewhat repulsed me. O.k, part of it had to be the hotel we were staying in. Mark had been in Las Vegas on business for the last couple of weeks (yes, weeks) and was staying in one of those depressing little "Executive Suite" hotels. Definitely not one of the sparkly casino resorts. And let me tell you, get a street or two away from The Strip and LV turns into something quite dismal. Bizarro world where the harsh daylight takes the pretty glitter away and replaces it with dankness. When did it become so dirty? I felt like bathing in Purel every night. Have you ever taken a good look at the carpeting in the casinos? Nasty, really, really nasty.

Remember that 20/20 episode where they black lighted the rooms -and you saw them - great glowing globs of semen, urine and feces - everywhere. The fact that I remember this episode so vividly clearly shows the episode fucked with my mind. I freaked when the blankets even lightly touched my face and I woke up each morning with a kink in my neck because I wanted the least amount of skin possible touching the pillow.

And gambling, good God I suck so bad at gambling. First, I have to keep track of every penny I lose, so even if I win, I'm still bitter because I lost money. I have never, ever won anything remotely close to "big" in Vegas. I drive my husband bonkers because he'll be up and I'll be behind him screaming "cash out, cash out". Kinda a buzz kill for those who actually enjoy gambling. My theory is I might as well walk straight to the middle of the casino, pull out my money, torch it with my lighter, and I would pretty much have the same result as if I were plunking money in a slot machine.

It was all worth it though to see my sweetie. I've missed him immeasurably.

And I did get to meet a new friend. A woman who knew of my medical past and of the adoption but didn't ask any weird or insensitive questions. A woman with the same warped and macabre sense of humor as mine. I could hang with her, comfortably. We both got "attitude" from the Versace saleswoman for fingering a $16,000 fake purple fur coat, and we both thought the same thing "I hope I left a booger on it." A woman after my own heart! Of course she lives like 1,800 miles away from me. Figures.

I got to see a 60 year old woman walking down the street in a black bikini with transparent harem pants and stiletto's - priceless!

I saw an extreme amount of pudginess stuffed into bright colored lycra.

I ate some incredible, awesome food.

And, whenever I saw an inappropriately dressed woman - and there were lots and lots of them -I got to ponder "is that a hooker?"

Good times.

psssst. You've got to read

psssst. You've got to read this.

Crappy Crapversary!

For me, there are definable seasons of good and bad. Fall and winter, wonderful, months filled with possibility and joy. I adore the shorter days and longer nights, the cold winds and winter sky's, the silence - bliss. Spring and summer, fifth ring of hell nightmarish, these are the months filled with drama and sadness. If something awful and psyche crushing is going to happen, I'm putting money down it's happening during summer.

Specifically, June is a black numinous kick to the head. More aptly put, the anniversary of the unraveling of everything that I thought defined me and the beginning of the metamorphosis to the person I am now, or the person I am slowly evolving to be. I can't decide if the "sculpting" has been finished or if I'm still just a work in progress - a blob of soft, but quickly hardening clay that some deity has cast aside because She's grown bored working on it and isn't sure anyway what to do with it - maybe I'm an ashtray.

So time and time again feel I need to put my bruised and battered nature into a dark place, just to punish myself a little teensy bit more. Had I missed a sign? Because, obviously, the Universe was one pissed of broad and, damn it, she wasn't going to take this shit any longer. It was time for me to pay for my insolence.

You're going to find this really amusing...I used to believe if you lead an ethical life, if you cared about your fellow man, did good deeds and worked hard, you would be rewarded. What? You mean it's all about luck of the draw and ego? What the hell? Did I miss a meeting? I didn't get any memo!

For months after "it" I felt I was being punished. In the span of 24 hours, I had to have emergency surgery to remove half my inner-bits because of a grotesque whomper of a cyst that had been growing on my left ovary - undetected by my doctor even though I had complained time and time again of classic endo symptoms. I was told that my remaining inner-bits were, shall we say, pretty damn gimpy. I was diagnosed with a horrific "condition" that's barely treatable and certainly not curable. And the jackpot, I could not, under any circumstances, NO- don't even try to be optimistic about it, have my own children. I can say with a good deal of certainty that I can one-up any "bad day" out there.

I hate summer and that memory.

My poor, sweet husband. He didn't sign up to marry a woman with gimpy bits who couldn't provide him with a child!! He got bitch-slapped by the Universe too and I have to remind myself of that at times, this didn't just happen to me.

So now Mark and I are adopting a little one from China. Would we be adopting if we could have our own? Probably not. Do I think this adoption is "destiny"? Maybe, or maybe it's just occasionally you get thrown a bone. One thing for sure, I don't ever, under any circumstances, want her to feel or even slightly perceive this self-induced angst from me. I'm really going to work on exercising my demons. This is one story that she doesn't need to hear, at least not for a long, long time.

Thank God for my husband. At least with him, she has a fighting chance of being normal.

Ahhh, the International Sign

Ahhh, the International Sign of Marriage.

Doesn't it just warm your heart?

Uhhgg. Here's my annoyance de

Uhhgg.

Here's my annoyance de jour.

This woman I work with, let's call her "X", is forcing me to the brink of bitch-slapping her. Allow me to elaborate, and trust me, this is only a sampling:

1) She makes the same amount of money as me, even though I do 20 times the work she does - and it's actual work - unlike what she has to do, which is say, make reservations for her bosses wife at a spa.

2) She received the same bonus amount as me, even though I have seniority.

3) She wields her bosses name like it's a fucking weapon. Everything sounds like a mildly veiled threat.

4) She makes statements like "good girl" as if we're puppies.

5) When she actually has something to do, no matter how small or insignificant, she gets so hyper that she speaks at a rate only an auctioneer could understand and doesn't take a breath in between sentences. The woman could be the next pearl diving champion.

6) She refers to her boss as her "fearless leader." Thaaaaat's right, her FEARLESS LEADER.

7) Every single week (every.single.stinking.week) for the past 9 months I've had to endure "I can't wait until our Emma comes home so we can play with her" said in this odd sing-song voice that attracts every stray animal in a 5 mile radius.

But today, ahhhh today she decided to kick it up a notch:

X: "I can't wait until Emma comes home and sticks her little fingers up your nose!"

Wuh?

I must have made a face like someone just handed me a turd, because she looked a little shocked and shuffled off, hyper as could be to make lunch reservations for her Fearless Leader.

Serenity now, serenity now, serenity now, serenity now.

This is Walter. He's

This is Walter. He's 30 lbs of soft, warm cuddle. During some really bleak times, Walter has made me smile. But the best part, the part I love the most, he thinks I'm his mama.

Yes, I know, I'm the crazy cat lady.

The Universe has once again

The Universe has once again decided to play nice with me, at least this round (although I fully anticipate at some point she will once again execute the swift kick of sand in my face.) I was having moderate to serious anxiety over the cost of the adoption, well not the adoption itself, but the time off M and I wanted to take once we returned home from China. I was beginning to resign myself to the idea of taking less time than originally planned. A serious bummer, but there are worse things out there. Sure we thought about taking out a loan, but we just bought a house three months ago and we knew the actuality of getting one was slim to none. But then out of the blue, M's parents offered to loan us the money - without even having to ask! It just worked out. I love it when that happens!

So my dear Universe for the time being I take back all the nastys I hurled at you, you did good. But because of the whole endo thing you lobbed at me, you're not off the hook yet - I'm still pretty pissed about that one.

To Whee[k] at the sanctimonious

To Whee[k] at the sanctimonious Susie-Cream-Cheese Board of China:

First I'd like to give a shout out to all the Cheesers out there. Cheese-Rocks-The-House!

So, umm, Whee[k], how ya doing? Yeah? That's great. Everything good in your world? Fantastic, couldn't be happier for you. Yeah, yeah, I'm doing good. A little stressed and overwhelmed at times, but holding my own.

You know I was going through some of your posts this morning, and umm, I've got to tell ya, dude, you need to give us Cheesers a warning when your gonna drop a wisdom bomb. I mean the advise you give, well Buddha couldn't have said it better. Like this little gem "For children to have dads who are very much involved in their lives they are so BLESSED." Pearls man...wisdom...pearls. And who could forgot the "Let's hear it for the Oldies" stream? Good stuff.

Whee[k] I'd like to get serious here for a minute if you don't mind? You know, talk women-to-women, adoptive mom to adoptive mom. Umm...it looks like you've adopted, what, 70-80 children from China? Oh really, you have a bakers dozen being freighted to you this afternoon? Wow, you get a break on the freight charges because of frequent use? No, no you're right, that wasn't funny. Anyway, my question to you is this...what drugs are you currently on? Because here's the thing, I'm taking Lexapro right now, and I've got to tell you, it takes the edge off, but I still have this sense of duty and responsibility thing haunting me and I was thinking to myself - how awesome it would be to just shun all that baggage, ya know? You've got all these adopted kids, right? Oh, you're also a foster parent and a board moderator? For-The-Love-Of-God-Woman! No, no, you're right, I shouldn't take the Lord's name in vain, sorry, I'll work on that. Whee[k], who the hell is taking care of the children while you're planted in front of the computer all day? No, you're absolutely right, there's no cause for profanity here. Let me rephrase that, Whee[k], if I may, I'd like to give you some advice, think of it as a little payback nugget for all the beauty you've shared with us Cheesers, Whee[k], get off your fat ass and go outside and play with your kids.

Being a virgin blogger, I

Being a virgin blogger, I felt it my duty to do a little "boning-up". I started with GwenBlog and made my way through her favorites list and kept going, and going. I shunned work, house cleaning, even my beloved Doritos to keep reading. So now, after a good 10 hours and countless stories, I have to tell ya...I'm just blown away, speechless.

You know those people who just seem to skate through life, everything falling effortlessly into their perfectly pressed, non-stained lap? Yeah, well, that's not me. Life handed me a big-ass platter of shit and for a long time I felt alone, that I was the only one, and who the hell could possibly get what I was going through because let's be frank, unless you're carrying the big-ass platter of shit, how could you possibly understand the weight of it? Turns out the platter has been passed around.

Maybe I'm not a 40 ton freakazoid after all.

Wow, who knew?

So here's the skinny on

So here's the skinny on why we're adopting from China. I can't have my own kids. There, I said it. I know this must come as a shock, but it's true. I'd like to say I'm one of those granola heads who's concerned about overpopulation in our world, that the increasing demise of our natural resources alarms me and I want to do my part to make our world a kinder, more peace, love and happiness place to live, but nope, just can't sprout one myself. I'll spare you the gory details of my barrenness. Let's just say it is what it is and move on.

You may be asking yourself "so S., where exactly are you in the adoption process?" Well, we're waiting for our LID, which apparently takes as long as say, having a bill pass through Congress. Six weeks and nothing. I've noticed on the ever prudish and sanctimonious APC board that many people have gotten their LIDs, people who have submitted their dossiers after I have, and I see such joy and excitement in their posts. To them I say "bitches!" Are you just rubbing it in my face?! Are ya' one uppin' me? If I hear one more person say "enjoy this time, it's your pregnancy", I'm going postal. This whole process sucks ass. Must we, the adoption community, sugar coat everything? Can't we be bitter that we have no control and that a group of people, who don't really know us, or give a shit about us - let's be honest - have control over our destiny? I say YES, let the frustrated and pissed off members of the China adoption community rise up and rebel and shove the "blessings" up these people's asses.

That pretty much sets the tone.

Blessings.