More Random Thoughts

Lily Allen lost her baby at six months, from an infection.  Just like me.  My heart goes out to her - this is her second one, I think.  I found out she was pregnant pretty soon after I found out I was pregnant, and I was stoked because I really like her music, and I thought it was super-cool that I could have a baby at the same time as one of my favorite singers.  Now I lost a baby right before she lost hers.  So sad.

There is just so much sadness around now, I just don't know what to do with it.  I had no idea that such sadness could exist in the world.  I really didn't know that anybody could be this sad and still function.  But that's the crazy thing about life wanting to go on.  The sadness doesn't mean that you can't do anything else - it's not an either/or thing.  You just do other things with the sadness all around you.  It's like this cloak I wear now.  I still laugh at 30 Rock, I still wish Mondo would have won Project Runway (and I still think Ivy is a serious b*tch), and I still cook dinner, pay bills, and change cat litter.  But I do it all wearing this sadness - it's just part of my wardrobe now, and I don't have to think about it.  It's just there.

I guess eventually it will get old, like any coat you wear every day.  Right now it's still new and fresh, so I notice it all the time because it's not worn in yet, and it's still a little stiff in the sleeves.  Eventually it will get really comfortable, and maybe a little ragged, and I won't feel all conspicuous wearing it.  I won't worry about wearing it in the rain or getting some mud on it.  And then it will just become part of me, and I won't even think about the fact that I'm wearing it anymore.  Maybe it will get so old it will fall apart, and I'll just have some scraps of its fabric left, which I will put in a box.  Maybe then I'll get a new happy coat to wear instead.

In the meantime, I'm still trying to figure out who I am and what I want in life.  Everything I do, I ask myself "do I really like this?  Does this new Heather really like this?" and it's funny the things I've come up with.  So far I've identified several things I'm sure I like:

My husband
Christmas decorations in stores - I really don't care that they come out so early.  I've decided that I really like them, no matter how early they put them out.
Blink 182
cranberry juice
Tina Fey
cats
iced mochas
3 ring hole punches
romantic comedies, specifically ones with Hugh Grant
the way our air smells like pine up here in the mountains

Some things I used to really love, that I'm currently on the fence about:
bubblebaths
having as many cats as we do (not like I'm going to get rid of any - just future reference that I might not want to do that again)
politics, the huffington post, and political media in general, which may or may not include Vanity Fair and the New Yorker, but excludes Jon Stewart because he has a hotness factor which overrides the political stuff.
chocolate
having a lot of books around.  What's the point?  To show off how smart I am or something?  Surely I should be able to prove that without having to invite people into my office to stare at my book collection.
Having a big collection of downloaded music, especially from independent artists like the ones on emusic.  Am I trying to make myself seem well rounded and knowledgeable?  I don't listen to it anyway, so again I ask, what's the point?
cooking

So those are the random thoughts for the day.  I haven't been doing all that well with NaNoWriMo the past two days.  I started writing on Monday night, but I started writing a book where the girl loses her baby, and I wound up crying for an hour.  So I think I have to start again.  Maybe it's too early to write a novel about that.  Maybe it's too fresh.  Maybe I should just go back to the novel I wanted to write originally.  It doesn't seem right, somehow.  Like I should write about something deep and heavy after what I've been through.  But maybe that's the point after all.  Maybe the point is that there's way too much heavy stuff out there, and people take themselves too seriously already, so maybe my new job in life is to bring light and laughter everywhere.

Or even better, maybe there really isn't any effing point, and I should just do what makes me happy and not what makes me cry.  Ahhh, she says, starting to get it....

I'm thinking about doing something totally out of character and getting my nose pierced.  Either that or a tattoo.  I always wanted a tattoo, but I'm not so big on needles.  After getting one in my spine, though, I think I might be able to handle it for something small.  A little butterfly or something, for Baby T.

I think I might be freaking my hubby out with my talk of tattoos and piercings.  We're both trying to figure out who we are.  In a way it's kind of exciting.  Not something I want to do again, like a roller coaster, kind of exciting.  More like a hitting rock bottom kind of exciting.