You’ve gotta be kidding me. The Bruins let Rolston go, too?
What the hell. I leave MA for a few months and all hell breaks loose.
Screw mornings.
If any of you are wondering why I am posting at 7:00am, well, it’s because I have a crappy life.
Anyway.
So, the Big Day is done and over and passed without fanfare, pomp, circumstance or any of those things. Very uneventful. I did nothing special. In fact, I did what could probably be described as the exact opposite of special. And it didn’t really bother me at all. Which is pretty depressing I guess. I mean, you only turn 30 once and I had wanted to make it nice, make it memorable, just to have that, you know? I always let the big moments in life pass me by. But then the day came and I just sort of felt indifferent to it all. What’s even more depressing is that I don’t even care that I didn’t do anything fantastic.
So I guess it bothered me a little, but I think what I’m feeling is grief over my 20s and all the wasted opportunities and all my fuck-ups and bad choices. I need to get together with Marianne and she needs to guide me to some spiritual enlightenment, because I need it real bad.
I am going to briefly examine my two most recent bad choices: a) moving back to Arizona and b) choosing Tucson over Phoenix. I should have stayed in Boston. What I was expecting to happen here and what actually transpired are miles apart. I suppose the only way of knowing this outcome was to actually come here and experience it, but it’s still very disappointing. And even though I hate Phoenix, I probably would have been able to find a good job and a place to live and been far away enough from my parents to be okay. And I would have been close to Marianne and she is so good for my soul that I wonder why I don’t just chop her into pieces and eat her.
I’ve seriously enjoyed my friends though. Those are some good people. They’ve kept me sane and together and hopeful. But I gotta admit, it’s not easy to stay cheerful and optimistic and happy around them, which is what I am trying very hard to do, because who wants to hang out with a depressed whiny pregnant woman? And I am tired of putting them out all the time, asking them for help, bothering them, screwing up their routines. I really hate relying on other people.
I was finally starting to feel okay in Boston. Can a place really make a person depressed? Can being back in Tucson, back in this house, back around my parents, make me depressed? Or was the depression just hiding around back there in my head, waiting for me to notice it again?
I don’t know, but I do know that I refuse to let depression take over my life again. I refuse. It can put on all the pretty party dresses it wants and waltz all over the room showing off its panties, but I am not going to give in. No. Unless they’re purple panties. I am a sucker for purple panties.
In happier news, I finally have something to outshine my breasts: my huge belly. My breasts look tiny in comparison.
happy lousy birthday to me.
Yesterday was the last day of my 20s. Sigh. It wasn’t even anything great.
I am now 30. I should have shrouded loafe all in black, but honestly I don’t feel different or look different (okay I look and feel fatter, but I think that has more to do with the baby than my age) and I am not feeling that depressed. So there you go.
Also, I think that maybe perhaps my friend Gina is in labor. I can’t find her stupid phone number, but I AM SO EXCITED.
I love babies and pregnant women!!
the baby inside us all.
As promised, here are links to a few of the ultrasound pictures I got last week.
You will love them. How could you not? My baby is so cute. I can hardly wait to see him. I wish I could just go to sleep one night and then wake up the next morning and there he is!
Also, don’t even get me started on how annoyed I am that Boston let Mike Knuble go. DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED. Fuck the Bruins.