They just do all of the talking and never ask for my opinion or about my experience or anything.
... oh, wait, that's not me, right, because I definitely recall you telling me some stories the last time we went out. Whew!
OTOH, I tend to assume people are reserved if they don't volunteer, and then I spend my energy filling the silence, because you know me, I can talk to a rock. (They said that about me in law school: "You know Consuela? She can have a conversation with a rock." It's not entirely a compliment, I suspect... *grins*)
... which, I just realized, I made the post All About Me. Way to go! oy.
One aspect of my having children is, I took one for the team. My sister is off the hook! I also got married for the team (as in, had an actual wedding; the choice to marry was mine, but if we hadn't had to think of family, we would have done it in an office.) I am counting on these sacrifices absolving me of dealing with my mother when she gets to need dealing with. Well, that and the consistently living 10+ hours away.
Why do you hate America?
That was my French half talking?
Brazil's Girl Power
How a mix of female empowerment and steamy soap operas helped bring down Brazil’s fertility rate and stoke its vibrant economy.
The Brazilian fertility rate is 1.9.
That new Brazilian fertility rate is below the level at which a population replaces itself. It is lower than the two-children-per-woman fertility rate in the United States. In the largest nation in Latin America—a 191-million-person country where the Roman Catholic Church dominates, abortion is illegal (except in rare cases), and no official government policy has ever promoted birth control—family size has dropped so sharply and so insistently over the past five decades that the fertility rate graph looks like a playground slide.
Longish, interesting article.
... which, I just realized, I made the post All About Me. Way to go! oy.
Ha! And no, not to worry, I was not writing about you.
They just do all of the talking and never ask for my opinion or about my experience or anything.
My neighbor is a perfect example of Fran Lebowitz's "The opposite of talking isn't listening. The opposite of talking is waiting."
Timelies all!
Hugs for all who need or want them.
New rule: Coworkers aren't allowed to wink at me. Especially if they're cute.
So, I was planning to keep this quiet for a little longer, but between today's conversation and the hormones doing a number on my brain tonight and my DH being out tonight, I feel the need to spill:
I'm pregnant, and it's way early (will be seven weeks on Friday), so I guess I'll still hold off on the "official" Beep Me post until at least after our first doctor's appt (end of Sept), but I'm feeling like I need to talk about it because, while it is exciting and wonderful and very much wanted, it's also FREAKING ME OUT, and bringing up all kinds of disappointment and sadness about how we're still living so far away from most of our good friends and our families, and we really might be here for ages because who knows when the hell M will have a shot at a decent job in the Northeast, and we just moved to a new house in a new neighborhood and everything just feels so weird and unfamiliar and I am desperately homesick for Massachusetts and my mom, and also sick in general, because this morning sickness shit is kicking my ass.
(flea, I spilled the beans to Teppy earlier this week, but this is why we won't be coming to Cincy this weekend after all! I'm pretty much glued to the couch these days and can't really fathom doing all the walking around and exploring and eating that I would want to do. I'm sad that we'll miss seeing you!)
