Baby shower, shmaby shower

Let’s call it what it really is…a MONSTER MASH!!! Or Monster Smashed, depending on how you look at it. Either way, it’s this Friday!

My friends decided to celebrate the fact that I got knocked up! Join us in the fun, but only if you a) bring a present for the soon-to-arrive devil, b) bring me a present because I’m the one who’s lived in hell the past 8.5 months, or c) buy me (and the little one) a drink!

We’ll be in Ballard and I shouldn’t be hard to miss, what with the belly stickin’ out n’ all.

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WTF

Some guy told me he didn’t know if he’d find me as attractive once the monster is born. Was that a compliment?An insult? What the fuck was that?

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Big belly, big hangover

Well, I didn’t go into premature labor at this month’s GET LOWEDED like I’d hoped. Although, by the end of the night I felt like my stomach was about to burst open…I think it was due to all the whiskey shots. The monster, like me, apparently enjoys sipping straight liquor rather than throwing it down the hatch quick-n-dirty style.

It took me two days to recover from Monday night’s debauchery. I don’t get it, I mean, I did all the right things. I drank straight liquor so as not to have a sugar hangover, smoked filtered cigarettes instead of my usual rollies, got home and ate a quesadilla, drank a big cup of water, swallowed some IBUs and passed the fuck out. So why did I not feel normal until today? Wait…I know. It’s not just me recovering from an excessive night of partying, it’s me and the monster. Two drunks, one body. I keep forgetting that.

Partying at eight months pregnant is tough. When the bar is packed, it’s so hard moving through the crowd. What I’ve found works best is yelling “WATCH OUT, PREGNANT GIRL COMING THROUGH.” People stop dead in their tracks, look at me, sort of half-smile and then step back to let me pass. I suggest trying it sometime, it’s not uncomfortable at all.

I’ve got one more month of this inconvenience. I’ll spare you the details of the weird things my body is doing at present to accommodate the bastard, I mean monster. Yes, I know who the father is. At least I think I do. I haven’t talked to him much since, well, you know…

I’ve been giving some thought to water births and if I go that route, I want to do it outside somewhere. Do you think it’s safe to do it in a hot tub? I was envisioning me, my midwife, a couple bottles of champange and some bad rap music playing on my ghetto blaster. You know when you drink in a hot tub how it makes you super drunk, super quick? Perfect, right? And Easy E in the background will remind me of the life I can get back to.

I can’t wait! No more scarlet letter, dirty looks, brash comments, points, stares or ass slaps. Wait, I like ass slaps–I think that’s what got me here in the first place–hope those don’t stop.

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Potential midwife?

more pics of the Get Loweded family:

http://www.usnaps.com/

special code: rebar

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The one thing I want to come early

I’m getting so excited for GET LOWEDED this month! I’ve heard that if you get too excited or too worked up, you can go into premature labor. I’m keeping my fingers crossed!

GET LOWEDED

http://myspace.com/getloweded

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One month to go, don’t be a ho!

My ribs huuuuuurt! I swear the monster, that’s what I’m calling it now, is taking a kick-boxing class inside my uterus. More technically speaking, I found out that, “Your uterus — which was entirely tucked away inside your pelvis when you conceived — now reaches up under your rib cage. If you could peek inside your womb, you’d see that there’s more baby than amniotic fluid in there now. Your ballooning uterus is crowding your other internal organs, too, which is why you probably have to urinate more often and may be dealing with heartburn and other gastrointestinal distress.”

I hate this process. Anyone who says they looooovvveee being pregnant is a damned liar. On the increased urination front, I had to use the El Corazon bathroom more times than I could count Saturday night. It was totally disturbing. There’s no squatting above the nasty toilet when you’re eight months prego, gravity just doesn’t work that way. Basically, I got drunk enough to forget what was crawling around on the dreaded seat.

I thought when you’re pregnant, people shower you with gifts, run out at any given moment to get you food from WHEREVER you want and give you foot rubs all day. Not the case at all. Not once has anyone offered to go get me Ezell’s fried chicken or a pineapple shake from Gordo’s. Not a single person has touched my feet, although, I don’t blame them–they probably look like hell since I haven’t even been able to see them for months. And most irritating of all, NO GIFTS. WTF!?! Everyone likes buying things. It’s America, that’s what we do. So, buy me things. This monster’s gonna need clothes/shoes(I wear Vans size 7 if you want to get me a matching pair)/food/toys and a whole lot more. I’m registered at Babies”R”us, Target, Fred Meyer, Wal-Mart, Super KMart, ShopKo, Costco and Sam’s Club. Buy in bulk, I’m gonna need it!

I’ve got to pee, but one more thing before I forget, which is another side effect, you literally lose your ability to retain information. Anyways, I just got the best news today. I can still have sex! I thought it was dangerous to do it in the third trimester, but according to Google it’s just fine! And according to the Google Image search, the positions look pretty fun too!

So, I’ll leave it at that for today. My ribs hurt, I have to pee all the time, I’ve got heartburn and gastrointestinal distress, no one is pampering me, but I can still have sex. Think I’ll be able to pick someone up, say, at the next Get Loweded?

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The baby’s first picture

ultrashould-cropped.jpg

Does this look odd to anyone else??? Do you think I should be concerned?

pc

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