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Week 23

Posted on April 22, 2012

Every husband can attest to the fact that within their pregnant wives, there are actually two pregnant women. No, this is not a crude joke about my husband’s boudoir talents and his inadvertently impregnating the infant with his unsurpassed doing-it skills. That would be crossing a line. Rather, this is an insight into pregnancy that I think few women would admit is actually true. The fact is, dear readers, that there are two of me. More than you can probably handle, I know. How do you think I feel? First of all there is “daytime pregnant lady” and she is together. She’s got plans and schedules, she writes things like appointments and classes down in a tiny organized day timer. She keeps multiple pens…

Week 22

Posted on April 11, 2012

The phone rang this afternoon, and finally woke me from my nap (in other words, my baby-coma.) It was Bestie, telling me another story of how her brass balls saved her life. Her writing life, that is. Bestie had yet again turned an opportunity that seemed like nothing into her next potential job. Let me specify, her next job as a professional writer. As she spoke, I realised I had long passed drowning myself in jealousy as I would have done when we were sixteen or even when we were in college together. Now it was so easy to see her success as my own. Since our friendship had morphed from two individuals holding hands into separates bonded as one, jealousy seemed to take…

Week 21

Posted on April 5, 2012

Remember year twenty-one? I am going to assume here, that most of my readers are passed dear ol’ twenty-one and can freely reminisce with me, now if you are twenty-one or even god forbid, younger … frankly, I say to you sod-off sweethearts. Twenty-one was dead set in the middle of my three years of glory. Sure I was sick for most of it with a nagging case of mono that wouldn’t release its grip, but because of that I was svelte and men were finally sweet on me. Bestie had to share the stage for once, and I revelled in it. Sadly, I wasn’t ride-around-sally like I should have been. Why? Well, because I was only sweet on one man. JPH. My future…