Let's keep it real, 'cause I'm keepin' it real.

Many things run through my crazy head.

I think of my blog as my journal and need to remember that someone may be reading it so I try to spell check and place commas and periods where they belong (I still question my apostrophe's - should there be one after comma and period? and should I have put one after apostrophe?). I try to make it more understandable by occasionally editing myself. I am nice like that.

I totally appreciate the talents of good blog writers but sometimes I sense their effort and I wish they would just write, don't worry about the grade, just keep it real. I probably think this way because I don't appreciate their perfect sentences as much as I appreciate their honesty and their drama and their story.

I have even read some comments about "your best writing yet!" etc... and I think that puts pressure on one to be "talented" here in blogland. I have even sensed there is a writing clique and I imagine them editing each others posts before they click "publish".

So, I am raw. I despise the idea of someone reading this and grading me. To those people, I say "please don't tell me what would have made this better and how I could have organized my paragraphs better". Occasionally, I get emails from someone who loves to critique me. Actually, I think that is a very arrogant place to position yourself - high up above me and snooting about how much better my post could have been.

I AM NOT A WRITER. I HAVE NEVER CLAIMED TO BE A WRITER. WHEN I ASK FOR YOUR OPINION, IT WILL BE CLEAR (as in the apostrophe question above). OTHER THAN THAT, KINDLY QUIT READING MY BLOG WITH YOUR TEACHER'S PEN.

Why? Because it fucks with my mind. It makes me think of things I shouldn't be thinking about. I am here to purge my soul and my soul does not punctuate while it purges.


Another thing on my mind:

I have been very aware of my mortality since I was a little girl. I guess that makes me a bit neurotic - who knew! So, I just read a brilliant piece about death and dying and procreating and leaving generations in this world. I was actually such an asshole, that I told her it was "magazine worthy" - like who the hell am I now?


Another thing on my mind:

I need to purge my panty drawer. I am more worthy than most of those panties and I am going to buy new underwear today. I may even throw some socks and bras away while I am at it. Yesterday, I wore a bra that was so old it squeaked! Apparently the underwires are wearing thin. Yep, I am more worthy than most of those things in my drawers.


Another thing on my mind:

I am going to have start putting the pressure on my husband about IVF#3. I am completely hopeless without it. In the deepest part of me, I know that is my only chance of ever having a child. We will be married 4 years at the end of May. I have never been more aware of my age than since I turned 40. I want to have a consult with Dr. Beautiful and hear what she has to say, even though I think I already know - "we don't know why this happens", "we can only guess it is the eggs", "I'd really like to see you try it again", "you have excellent response from the meds and excellent fertilization rates with ICSI".....yadda ...yadda.....yadda.

I just don't want to have any regrets when I am in my grave.

I live my life like I am dying. It is actually a good place to be. I want to try IVF one more time before I die. My husband will wonder if I will ever give up, he is already happy and fulfilled. A child would be a great bonus to him, but leaving behind a generation is not anything that he really thinks about.

I want my granddaughter's daughter to hear how much she reminds everyone of her great-grandmother. Yes, I want that.

Is that too much to ask?