Drunken ass display

Hey, I just went to Boston for 17 hours. Plus 6 hours flying time. That's some crazy shit right there. That we can actually go so far for such a short amount of time. That it's no big deal to just burn up a shit load of fossil fuels to attend one function.

But I'm back. I didn't catch anyone's eye. I did dance with a couple of different cute guys and tried flirting but got nowhere. Except very drunk. I managed not to toss my cookies, though, AND didn't have any drunken blackouts, so it's mostly good. [Note how low my standards are for figuring out how drunk I was: no blackout = not exceptionally drunk.]

BUT. I have to tell you about this super embarrassing thing because I am either cracking up at my own drunken idiocy or burning in shame and I have to spill. So, I drag myself out of bed this morning, pretty much still drunk from last night, shower, dress, and go off in search of fried eggs, toast and coffee for breakfast. I accomplish that, and feeling somewhat revived I arrive back in my hotel room. I put the light on because it's dark in there, put some extra makeup on, grab my stuff, put it in my bag. And then I thought before checking out I'd try to have a second poop of the day. See, when I've drunk a lot, it, uh, loosens things up in there and I often end up not feeling really good until I've had a second poop. I walk into the bathroom, put the light back on and sit on the can without closing the door because after all I'm on my own in the room. I'd been sitting there a while kind of zoning out waiting to see if anything would happen when I decide to glance to my left, and get a straight view into offices across the street where there's a guy sitting at his desk in one office, and a meeting of three guys in the next office. Yes, clearly I'd opened the curtains before going out to breakfast and had totally forgotten about it, and what with the lights being on in the room I have been putting on a show for the world. I have never shut a door so fast in my entire life! Thank god I hadn't actually achieved any crapping as that would have been more embarrassing to have the whole butt wiping scene played out to an audience.

I slunk out of the bathroom, turned off the lights and went to investigate after a short while, and all the guys were studiously working away staring intently at their computer screens. Who knows, they might not have seen me, but I'm sure my face remained beet red for a while thereafter. There was a sheer curtain in front of the window, and I did notice as I was waiting for a cab that at least the sheer curtain on the ground floor was fairly non seethrough when looking from the outside, even onto a brightly lit reception area, so there's hope. But jeez, I am lame sometimes.

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In response to poster #1 from yesterday: note I said "your average fertile". I truly don't think that most, average fertiles have the same awestruck amount of gratefulness at the simple act of being a parent as infertiles do. I'm not saying that they are ungrateful. The vast majority are grateful for their kids, obviously. But there's degrees and gradations in everything. I have a friend IRL who is going through tertiary infertility (is that even a term?) and she has said that after going through this and talking to me over the years she truly never appreciated how mind-bendingly lucky she was before. And that's the key, I think, the realization that it is an utterly amazing, miraculous, mind-blowing thing to be able to parent which most people don't have until they have stared down the barrel of the gun of not having this thing that most of us think of as our right, as easy, as something we have to conciously avoid and be on our guard against until we're ready.

& of course thanks for the kind words to all.