Posted by: angelnorman | September 22, 2010


Dear Thyroid,

Thank you for being so out of whack that you have now officially prevented my ovulation. I really appreciate your effort to make yourself yet another obstacle for me to overcome. You, sir, are awesome.



Update: I didn’t ovulate this month. And they think it’s my thyroid’s fault. (Damn. it. to. hell.) So I can’t “try” anymore till the thyroid is under control. Um, remember when it was the blood pressure and the insulin level that was out of whack? Seems like as soon as I fix one thing, something else falls apart. Then when I’m allowed to try next time, they want to give me an HCG injection on top of the fertility drugs. Lordy. But I don’t want to talk about it. Because talking about it makes me cry. And I’m really tired of crying. Also, I’m really tired of being a woman.

So I’ve been listening to lots of music today and watching videos and things of that sort. Something interesting I found… While My Guitar Gently Weeps is probably one of my favorite Beatles’ songs ever, so when I came across this video this morning, I was in heaven. I want to marry this guy as he is utterly amazing on a ukulele. I am convinced that were he my husband, he would play me lullabies on the uke every night at bedtime and on lazy weekend afternoons, we’d lay around the living room, me reading a book while he strummed quietly beside me. Of course then my name would be Angel Shimabukuro, and that sounds horrible. So I’ll stick with Mr. Michael Norman who maybe can’t rock a ukulele but who can play my favorite Foo Fighters song on the acoustic guitar and who can make me feel better just by being next to me on the couch, music or not.


Mike and I were on our morning walk today and I asked him, “So yesterday when we weighed, what did you weigh?” I had gained a pound, and was pissed to say the least, so I went out to smoke afterwards and completely forgot to ask him how he had fared. (How rude of me.)

So he looks over at me shyly, and quickly averts his eyes back in front of him. “Don’t want to talk about it,” he said.

I was curious. “Loss or gain?”

“Angel,” he said gently. “You really don’t want to know.”

“Would I be mad?”


“How much did you lose?” I demanded.

“I weigh 229.”

Son of a bitch!

“See. I told you…”

“Michael! You weigh 6 pounds less than me!” I screeched in a panic.

“I’m sorry!” And then after a moment, he offered, “Want me to go binge?”

I laughed and pushed him playfully in his arm. Maybe I do want him to be fatter than me. Would it be wrong of me to go out and buy a bunch of sweets to tempt him into diet failure?

I kid, I kid. I love him too much to see him fail. But if he beats me to 200, I’m going to slit my wrists.


Other fun things I’ve come across today:

– a new piece of inspiration for my fridge door. what a lovely manifesto, and who doesn’t need their own manifesto?

this video that my step-uncle-in-law (good gravy) made for my in-laws who lost their house in the flood. this is the family working on labor day to build the 6-ft high foundation. awesome.

and this is what the house looks like as of this past weekend:




  1. I love the ukulele too! I bought Chad one a long time ago for reasons similar to those you listed, but he rarely plays it anymore. You should check out these guys, I love them!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: