I am spending an entire day on my sofa in my pajamas, watching Buffy dvds and catching up on blogs, and indulging in random googlery. A very pleasurable introduction to 2008, but not the most productive.
I have made resolutions of the most basic and boring sort: floss daily (I am a full grown grown-up, and still I don't do this), exercise daily, eat vegetables daily. So far today, I have done none of these things.
What I want to do in 2008, is, of course, to have a baby. Or at least to get pregnant. But resolving to do that seems pointless. Resolutions are pointless in general, actually, but that one seems extra unpointy.
By the way, I have uncovered the reason for my infertility...Frogs.
Google "fertility superstitions" and this is one of the things you will find: touching frogs = infertile. Many are the frogs and toads that I have touched. My best friend growing up lived on a farm with a pond and we loved to catch little frogs and let them hop from hand to hand until they escaped.
Or, it might be because we didn't have rice thrown at us after our wedding. Or because I wasn't spanked on my birthday? I don't give away enough cakes? I don't pick flowers n@ked?
Coincidentally enough, I have recently taken up daily sweeping (I formerly used a vacuum for all floor-related cleanings, but lately sweeping has become meditative and therapeutic for me) but it hasn't helped in the least. And I don't have any children to pile cabbage stalks around the doors and windows.
Okay, enough with the superstitions. I don't actually believe in them, anyway. And my husband just called me to say he is on his way home from work (totally sucks that he had to work today!), so if I'm going to pretend I did anything other than sit on the sofa today then now is the time to jump up and... I don't know? Brushing my hair might be a start.
By the way, he shall no longer be known as Al/vin. Apologies to those of you who actually have this name, or love someone who does, or plan to bestow it upon your longed-for babies, but I don't like it very much and it has never suited him. I arrived at it through a complicated formula involving the years of our births and ...oh it's not worth the explanation. But I decided to boot it, so I asked him what he would like to be called if he could name himself. His reply was "Captain J@ck Sp@rr0w". That seems a bit much to me, but "Jack" he shall be from here on out.
I wish us all a frog-free 2008.