Monday, July 12, 2010

The persecutions of Job(ette?)

This past week has been a difficult one for me and though nobody has died or even been (too terribly) injured, I can't help but compare my tribulations to that of a certain man from the Bible who was tested by God. Because I love the drama like that, don'tcha know.

First of all, we had James's fertility thing, which was a huge blow and stress and has pretty much shaken my confidence in my future.

Secondly, and this is going to sound REALLY weird, but I made pesto for dinner a few nights ago and when I woke up the next morning there was a VERY strong bitter taste in my mouth. I brushed my teeth several times and gargled throughout the day but it persisted. It was the strangest thing; I kind of thought I had been poisoned. Later I found out that it was the pine nuts I used. I know, it sounds stupid! But apparently pine nuts that are being imported from China are genetically engineered somehow and the result is that they cause an allergy in some people! Or that they have been treated with something really nasty, or an additive that the Chinese use in processing the nuts. Nobody knows for sure. But: !!! The taste is worse after eating, especially something sweet, and we are going on three days and counting with the problem persisting (J has it, too). There is no cure but to wait for it to go away, and that can take WEEKS, sometimes! I am buying EVERYTHING from the organic market from now on.

Thirdly, last Thursday I had a mishap with the straightening iron that I use to tame my curly hair. Because I am vain. The first two things might have been a persecution from the Man Above but this is my own damn fault. Vanity, thy name is Catherine. I accidentally turned the iron to its highest setting, and when I opened it, the entire left side of my hair fell to the floor from the nape of my neck down. The result has been somewhat dramatic. This is my new haircut:


I have to admit it's grown on me and that I am now finding it sort of flapperish and cute. But at first I couldn't help thinking that I looked like a prison warden. I am not skinny enough for the gamine look. And I miss my hair, though I cursed it when it was there. I guess, like Anne, I would have liked for this to be of my own choosing, and for a better reason. But I would be lying if I tell you that tears were not shed over this, most of all because I'm going to a wedding of my high school friends in two weeks and dammit, I haven't seen most of these people in 10 years! I want to look PRETTY, not like I cut my hair with a weedwhacker.

Fourthly (I know!) my shower developed a small leak that became a big leak when my asshole downstairs neighbor didn't report it to me, and now he wants us to pay for the damage, which we are not contractually obligated to do since he let it get worse before he told us. Legally, he is responsible for some of the damage. But of course (sigh) he swears it didn't start until the night he told us now that I've told him the law.

So yes. By Sunday night, I was worn out with anxiety and anger and frustration and fear and general upsetness.

But things are looking better today. The pine-nut taste is diminished somewhat. My homeowner's insurance will cover whatever we owe Downstairs Neighbor. And most importantly, I found a study on line put out by the World Health Organization that came out the day after James's fertility test. Apparently, they have changed the parameters of normal "little guy" count (as we're calling it because the other word is nasty) and now 8% normal is perfectly normal. It's only below 4% that is a problem, apparently. It seems like a lot, but hey, I'm not a doctor and I'm taking any good news I can get, here. He's still going to a doctor but we are a lot more optimistic about the baby thing happening--and happening sooner rather than later.

And hairwise, I'm feeling much better, too. Because I went out to Sally Beauty and I bought a WEAVE. Technically, I guess it's more of extensions because I can clip them in and out, but I like talking about my weave, so I call it that. Here is how I look wearing my fake (I guess it's real, because it's real hair, but fake to me...you get the picture) hair.


(It does creep me out, slightly, the idea of wearing someone else's hair, but when that happens I just raise it to my nose and inhale the plasticy scent, and then I make myself belief that it's just really good synthetic and that I got duped. That helps a lot.)

I am more than a little ashamed that I bought these, though, because 1) they were fairly expensive ($70 is super expensive for me) and 2) it was sheer vanity that made me do it. But then, I reckoned that I don't buy much for myself anymore and that it would be just as shameful to WANT them, even if I didn't have them. This might be sheer rationalization. Anyway, I'm so ashamed of them that I wouldn't dream of wearing them to Quaker meeting, which compounds my sin, I guess, because it is falseness...oh well. I'm not perfect.

But yes, I do have my long, lustrous, beautiful hair back! So I guess it's a wash.


Anyway, here's to hoping this week is better than the last. And for fortitude--!

5 comments:

  1. Oh Cathy, I can totally empathize with your hair mishap, but I DID have to laugh just a little at it! All I could think of is Jo burning Meg's hair with the curling tongs, and Anne's green dye job. And I SO get the embarrassment of wanting something frivolous and silly, but wanting it badly enough that you are willing to endure, but then not wanting to admit to anyone that you really could be that way ... it's all very exhausting. Anyway. I like your new look, and for your own peace of mind, I hope your own hair grows back quickly!

    So glad of the encouragement on the baby front - I've been praying for you guys every day. Also, I am going to be double and triple checking the pine nuts we buy from now on!

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  2. You know, I feel the worst about it when I tell people and they DON'T laugh, when they say, "Oh, God, POOR CATHY!" So thank you for reminding me of Meg and Jo and the curling tongs. A little laughter between friends can be just as good as a prayer sometimes. But I thank you for both, and would it seem weird if tell you I can FEEL the latter? I feel prayers for that coming at me from all sides, surrounding me, changing my energy. It helps SO MUCH.

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  3. My first thought was Meg's hair when I read this, and I tried not to laugh too much. After suppressing my chuckles as much as possible, I thought about extensions. There is nothing wrong with a little vanity. I would have been mortified in your position. Actually I'm trying to figure out how I've never burned off my own hair, considering I've been using flat and curling irons at their highest settings for ages. That said, are you already on prenatal vitamins? If not, get on them, because your hair will grow like crazy.

    It sucks about the guy downstairs from you. Neighbors often just suck.

    End note: Hooray for normal counts of "little guys!"

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  4. Adrienne, I have very curly hair, so when it's it's coarse and sort of crackly and very very dry. Perfect kindling for the InStyler, I guess.

    I think most of my shame comes from the fact that I am not the kind of woman who can just be secure enough in her appearance to let what happens happen. But that is not me, and like George Fox said to William Penn, he shouldn't stop wearing his fancy dress and his sword until he had stopped wearing these things in my heart. I could pretend to be the kind of person who isn't so vain, but I still would be deep down, and so I guess it would add the negative aspect of falseness to my behavior. I should stop beating myself up about little things but that's very much who I am, too: always thinking about this stuff.

    I am actually taking the Target gummy prenatal vitamins because the binders they use in the capsule and gel ones give me severe stomach issues. But the gummy ones are so yummy that I never forget to take them, so that's a plus, too.

    And yes, YAY FOR LITTLE GUYS!

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  5. Well, I can't say much. I haven't taken a prenatal vitamin since the miscarriage. I should, but my doctor wasn't too concerned with it, and they made me ill. If for no other reason than that they're so big that they gag me. The day we found out I had miscarried, my doctor was going to give me a prescription for a chewable or liquid one. I don't remember what it was exactly. I may have to try the gummy ones. That, and continue to cut my caffeine consumption. Ugh. If I had money, I would just hire a surrogate and implant her with fertilized embryos.

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