There's a first time for everything, right? That's blogging for me. I finally caved (I'm quite sure to my little sister's greatest delight) to familial pressure and got out of my tech-unsaavy box, in which I've been happily living for the past 8-or-so years.
But, seeing as I'm not allowed to continue living under my delusion that the internet is a corruption of the space-time continuum (thanks, Karin), I'll keep a blog.
It isn't like I don't have anything to talk about, afterall. I'm bubbling over! But phones, email, texting and all those other technological advances are beyond me. So forgive me.
And here I start.
Except I don't know exactly where "here" is, to tell the truth... So accept it as :
Week 4 (or thereabouts)
As I'm sure everyone knows, this is all totally new to me. I feel like I'm grappling along in the dark for something that I can comprehend. As of right now, I really feel no different, with the exception of being a little tender and crampy, and maybe a little overly-emotional, but I hardly notice. I keep waiting for the puking episodes and the faintness and the dizziness and the torrents of bitter, hormonal fury that come pouring out onto any unsuspecting person, all of which I keep hearing about from others who have been there, or know someone who has.
On the flip-side, I've had ample amounts of overjoyed people running up to me to spill thier gooey "I'm so HAPPY!" all over me. At work, there's approximately 1.2 billion people who have all heard through the grapevine, and I think I have personally told about 7 of them. That's 7 people.
It seems strange that such a little thing (literally! Through my reading, I've learned that it's now about 1/16 to 1/8 of an inch long!) can cause such a huge rucous. After watching a friend of mine last year, I keep telling myself as soon as I start showing and the "belly-grabbers" come out, I'm going to get a shirt that reads, "touch me and die."
But for now, I'm safe. From the belly-grabbers, at least.
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