The Circus

I bought some bras at TJ Maxx today in a size that still has me reeling, because I’ve never been much of a bosomy type, and here I am, the proud owner of a bunch of inexpensive bras with four hooks in the back — the kind made for people who need extra support. I looked at the size, then looked at the bra and thought, no way is this going to fit me. No way.

And OMG, they all do. “Whose boobs these are, I think I know. Her house lies in the village, though.” Honestly, I cannot stop putting my boobs into Robert Frost’s poetry, because every second, I’m asking myself “WHOSE BOOBS ARE THESE? NOT MINE.” I also have an odd tendency to turn ordinary thoughts into that one stupid poem and get it stuck in my head, not unlike the constant propensity for me to get the theme from “Picture Pages” jammed firmly into my brain. I call this one “Stopping by Boobs on a Swollen Evening”.

I needed the bras, by the way, because I could no longer remotely squeeze the girls into the bras I had before — two whole sizes in both directions will do that to you — and it was looking rather obvious to the outside world, even while wearing clothing. There would be the bra, and then there would be the terrifying bulge of the Boob That Refused To Be Subdued. The BTRTBS-to-bra ratio, by the way, was at three-to-one. Not good.

My pregnancy, by the way, continues to be one of the most … exciting on record, because not only are we extricating ourselves from our current lease because our house was sold and new people want to live in it — surprisingly, they don’t want to live in it with us! — leaving us to find a new place and move into it (lease-signing scheduled for tomorrow for real!), but the new owner needed to fix a window and ripped a giant gaping hole in the one conveniently located near my side of the bed. Hello! I live inside of this here cave if you need me, and it’s accessible by merely pulling away the makeshift bath towel curtains! It’s a good thing it’s warm outside!

So! In addition to securing a new place to live and, you know, moving and nesting and generally freaking out, our tenant — the one I loved, who paid on time and asked if she could clean the windows — has decided to leave three months before her lease ends with vague notice and no real apology. This, of course, means, that we are now tasked with the exciting job of finding a new, responsible tenant who will not tear up our “investment” (OH HA HA) in Florida. From Vermont. While pregnant and moving ourselves and doing all the things normal pregnant people have to do without this added crap (and OH THAT LIST IS LONG).

Aaand, tomorrow I have to meet the electrician at 7 a.m. so that he can fix absolutely nothing of relevance to me or the house I’ll be living in, come 60 days’ time. And when I pushed back, they made me feel lazy, like OH POOR WOMAN CAN’T SLEEP IN. WE ELECTRICIANS RISE AT 3 A.M. AND GREET THE DAY WITH A SMILE. When, really, I think we can all agree that being awake and hovering angrily over the coffee pot in your pajamas is far different than being awake and answering the door like Perky Pam in a dotted apron with lipstick on and showing the nice men to your smoke detectors with a flourish.

It’s all making me feel very stabby, but after seriously freaking out in the form of a giant meltdown worthy of a Lifetime melodrama (starring Alyssa Milano!) this afternoon, I have opted to be positive and sunny, thanks to the calming influence of my husband, who is taking over the tenant portion of our show entirely so that I don’t have to worry my sad, pretty little pregnant head over it (although I will). And we both sort of realized that while yes, some things suck and have sucked and will continue to suck, it is all manageable and what is most important is that we are all healthy and happy and, for the smallest of us, still kicking mightily.

Anyway! I think what the world needs now is Schooner Tuna. We need a bald man to come on the screen and tell us that theyr’e reducing prices by 50 cents a can until this economic crisis is over. We need miniature American flags! And we need the reminder that we’re all in this together! I mean, the three — excuse me, FOUR, including Sunny — of us, anyway.

ALSO! There is Sookie Stackhouse! And Entourage! And free HBO and Showtime for two years because Comcast is suffering in these downtrodden times! And hey, it’s hot in here, but I have a built-in AC unit thanks to the window that sort of kind of isn’t!

Happy Wednesday!

*Erasure, featuring my pretend boyfriend Vince Clarke. And it’s really quite an appropriate choice for the time, title aside.

21 comments October 14th, 2008