Consistency - Sex, Drugs and Blogging

I spent the week in NYC. That's the only excuse I've got for not blogging. I did tweet once from Julie's hotel pool! We were watching little Frankie dive amidst a room of old ladies doing their water aerobics. So depressing. Use the sex machine now ladies. It looks scary post 60. I don't care how fabulous Susan Sarandon looks. Most of us will be wearing those floaties while attempting water tricks.

Speaking of sex, today is the start of the three day fertility window. That's why I went to NYC. I needed to get the buzz before a week of nothing.  This week I can't go anywhere but to bed with my man. We need to fuck our brains out to get the baby machine to work. I have to remember to take the drugs, I have to pee on the stick, take my temperature, not work out, stay calm, eat carbs. And then pray. I wonder if I pray more, if I will get a shot at immaculate conception? 

I think Greg is starting to feel used. I keep telling him it's better than the next step where he has to perform in a petrie dish in the silent, sterile room at the fertility clinic. At least our sheets have a high thread count! I know many of you can relate to this and it sucks. I am sick of it. I just want to get pregnant. 

Julie told me to drink more. She swears she was drinking and partying every night the week she got pregnant with Frankie. But that's Julie. She was born with a horse shoe up her ass. I met her in NYC where one of her clients was recording a new label. Her life is unbelievably cool. She shows up with Frankie on her hip in her baby James Perse t-shirt - indigo- and the cutest little sneakers and jeans. Julie as usual was sexier than ever. She kills me. Baby, agency, music industry, adoring husband and still drinking and cavorting until 2am like a teenager.  She did confide about their finances. They go through it like water.

I stopped by the head office. It was unnerving. They stared at me like a bizarre species. They used to fear me, revere me and now they didn't know what to say. I told them to read my Blog. I think I'll build a media empire post baby.

Sissy says they're just jealous I can sit at home all day in my PJs and have sex. Sissy also loves to make everyone feel good. That was the hard part when Max died, Sissy was still trying to make everyone else feel good when she was dying inside. It was this awkward role reversal. Her consoling us about her becoming a widow. I think she was lonely this week. Thus my pledge to consistency this week...

Consistently take my drugs, consistently screw three times a day, call Sissy daily and blog daily. I hope you can stand the sex updates? It's all I'm thinking about this week. Gotta run. Greg just walked in... Best two out of three?