Saturday, I intended to sleep in, but that didn’t happen because, Friday night, as I was reading my IVF calendar in preparation for beginning the next day’s injection schedule, I realized I didn’t have the proper syringes for reconstituting the goods.  So I ended up driving over to the clinic to pick up some syringes and from there, went about my errands of purchasing cleaning materials for the Big Mexican Clean.  Yep, I did a Mexican clean on the house on Saturday.  You know the ones.  One of those four-hour gigs you usually hire out for unless the skills are in your genes.  We’re talking beyond the sweep-the-floors-and-clean-the-toilets clean.  We’re talking bleaching the tubs, dusting the top shelves and crown molding, washing the rugs, polishing the wood floors, windexing the outside of the shower, cleaning the undersides of the stove burners, changing the air filters, laundry, you get the picture kinda cleaning.  And I would have crashed, except that we had dinner plans.

Now I enjoy asian food, but not from Benihana’s. I hadn’t been to a Benihana’s in six years, which apparently was just enough time for me to forget that there’s better food elsewhere. The location, however, seemed a decent one for organizing a gathering of women who, prior to Saturday evening, didn’t necessarily know each other beyond our “handles”. I mean seriously, when you walk in to the restaurant and someone says “you must be RaJen, I’m susanb36” and I say “yes, and I saw kittenroar5 driving up and gigglebaby just called me that she’s lost.” you just KNOW that you need a hibachi table to entertain you JUST IN CASE those silent moments need a knife to slice through them. No matter, though, the company was fabulous and it was nice seeing some folks in person who want a baby just as much as you. There’s so much Want that I’m surprised they didn’t hand us an infant with our parking validation. For real. We DID get some glances on occasion, but I chalk that up to the fascination with a group of hot women, rather than the content of our conversation.

Then, on Sunday, we moseyed through the morning and did a little shopping before heading to listen to some live music. The best memories of said activity are from living in New Orleans. Music at Jazz Fest, Carrollton Station, House of Blues, Tipitina’s, French Quarter Festival, and countless other restaurants and bars filled my ears during my 4+ years there. Not to mention the city also provided my graduate degree, some of the best friends I have to this day, and the place I met the Beloved. Good times, good times. Which reminds me of many a (weekly) “Summer Annual” Sunday afternoon at T’s house, lounging by the pool, and then as the day turned to evening, sitting around the patio listening to Whitney Ann McCray play the guitar and sing a little sumpin’ sumpin’. Ahh, the memories of my 20s. Well, this many years later, Whitney now resides in Houston and played last night at the most famous McGonigal’s Mucky Duck. Some friends drove in from Dallas (including a former member of the weekly Summer Annual’s at T’s house) and it was GREAT to see them. Plus, it allowed me the opportunity to replace the memory of the last time they were in town, a little over a year ago, when we met at the only gay bar I’ve ever been to in Houston and had to, the HORROR!, witness a body shot from the professional drinkers. Not pretty at all. I can’t remember the last time I closed a bar/music venue down (oh, I think that was in New Orleans, too), but we did it last night. Thirties are the new twenties, baby! (Granted, it was 10 p.m., but I’m not telling anyone that part.) Whitney, as always, was wonderful and is a wonderfully talented musician. DSC_0276.JPGDSC_0263.JPG

And this just in from the IVF frontlines: I had an E2 blood test (measure estrogen) this morning and it should be 100<E2<600 and mine was 249. Right on target. All this time I’ve been upset about gaining weight over the last year, but I’m telling you, now that I’m in the throws of all these IVF injections, I am REALLY grateful for the extra, EXTRA cushion in the midsection. Only a week into injections and my belly already looks like it’s been aerated. And that Repronex? Muthufuhkha, that stuff burns going in!