Monthly Archives: June 2012

Your Constant Pregnancy Inquiries are Driving Me to Drink!

Before I was married, sometimes I liked to socialize without drinking. During dinner with friends I might choose to drink Coke Zero or even water if I didn’t feel like having a beer. I’ll be honest, recovering from just a couple drinks is a lot tougher than it used to be and I prefer to be at least vaguely coherent at work. But, now that I’m married and rapidly approaching 30, not drinking is not an option. Drinking (and consuming massive amounts of mercury-laden raw fish) is one of the few things that will stave off the question, “Are you pregnant?!” Heremywholething, you should never ask that question. Ever. Not to anyone. I don’t care your relationship, I don’t care if her belly button has popped. Don’t.Ask. If she wants you to know, she will tell you. There are only three ways asking can go and none of them turn out well for the potential mommy or you. Let’s review, shall we?

Scenario 1: She is Not Pregnant and They are NOT Trying

Why is this not acceptable once you get married? I recently attended a wedding and “Hurry up and have a baby” was a sentiment that was repeated several times throughout the speeches. The couple was married for literally one hour and the pressure had already started. Granted, I have no idea if they want to start the baby making right away, but what if they don’t? I know there is never a perfect time to have a baby. One will always wish the situation was just a little bit better — more money, better insurance, a bigger house — but these things are up for the couple to decide, not you. Asking them if they’re pregnant and then refusing to accept that maybe *gasp* they don’t want kids or that they are putting it off until they can improve their situation is selfish and rude. If you ask once and this is their answer, you are not allowed to ever ask again and you are definitely prohibited from making a snarky remark about how she is probably just saying that to get people to stop asking. And please, for the love of all that is holy, don’t try to talk them out of their decision. More people should put this much thought into having babies before popping them out without any long-term plan.  Offering a nice, “Well, if you ever decide to start a family you and XX will be great parents,” is the only graceful way out of this.

Scenario 2: Yes, She is Pregnant

Okay, let’s say the woman you’re asking is in fact pregnant. If she wanted you to know, you would know. You wouldn’t have to ask. Generally, mothers-to-be are really excited about the fetus that is growing in their bellies and are happy to share the news with those who are even remotely close to them. If you are her friend, and you don’t know, there is probably a reason for that. Most likely it is because it is too early in the pregnancy and she doesn’t want to have to worry about miscarrying and then having to go back and tell everyone she is no longer pregnant. She would prefer to wait until things are a little more stable. Understandable. Let her announce in her own time. The other reason she’s not telling is could be that you may not be as close of friends as you think and she just doesn’t want to tell you because you’re a judger, or a bitch, or will make it about you, whatever! Her uterus, her prerogative. Let her be. I’m sure she will post a 4-D (How can it be 4-D? What is the fourth D? Can you smell it?) sonogram picture on Facebook soon enough.

Scenario 3: She is Not Pregnant and They ARE Trying

This special scenario is saved for last because it is THE reason to not ask a woman if she’s pregnant. The other two can be laughed off or deflected tactfully, this one is just awful. Let’s say, hypothetically, that a couple IS in fact trying (I really hate that term “trying”) to get pregnant. Hypothetically, it is taking a little longer for this couple than they had hoped. For argument’s sake, why don’t we pretend that at one point she was in fact pregnant and now she is not (refer to scenario #2). This hypothetical woman is probably so excited to see her husband hold their future baby and be a dad that she daydreams about it. Pretend that this woman, the make-believe one who you are interrogating (because that’s what it will feel like), recently heard her husband say how lucky his sister and brother-in-law were for getting pregnant so quickly and how lucky the brother-in-law was for having two mini-mes. Ugh. Let’s pretend that this woman, who a few years ago didn’t even want kids, is terrified by the thought of not being able to have one. If this hypothetical, make-believe, pretend woman existed, it would probably feel like absolute shit when she had to reply, “No” to THE question. Is your curiosity about why she isn’t drinking worth it? I would hope not.

So, when I am out with friends, I make sure to grab a beer because drinking when I don’t want to is easier than enduring another raised eyebrow or “knowing” smile. It’s easier than someone silently mouthing “Are you?” from across the table. Drinking a few cocktails that are sure to make me a little groggy when my morning alarm goes off, is a much more enjoyable option than getting text messages inquiring about my lady parts from the person sitting in the booth with me.

So, for my liver’s sake, please just wait until I tell you that my womb is occupied and keep the questions to yourself.

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Why the DMV is Better than the Apple Store

A few weeks ago I was lucky enough to spend two of my lunch breaks doing chores. My first chore was going to the DMV to change my name on my license, the second chore was going to the Apple store  to get my husband’s laptop fixed. After one hour in each place, I can say that I would rather spend all my lunches at the DMV than to be forced to go back to the Apple store. Shocked? Yeah, me too!  As a non-hipster-douchebag the DMV is a better place to be than the Apple store. Here is a summary of my very scientific study

First Impression – Winner Apple

Not the store I went to, but they're all the same.

Not the store I went to, but they’re all the same.

Okay, this first contest goes to Apple. Their store is admittedly clean, open, and just plain cool looking. There were several seating options, including a stuffed loungy communal couch thing.  The DMV was in a strip mall and that was the plus side! It was packed to the gills with people sitting in uncomfortable seats and staring crappy TV monitors. Granted if I don’t get universal healthcare, I don’t want my tax money going to chaise lounges at the DMV.

Okay, Now What? – Winner DMV

When you walk into the DMV and your eyes adjust to the smoke haze (no, you can’t smoke in the building, I think it’s still lingering from the times of “smoking or non-smoking?”), it is very clear where to go. Signs hung from the ceiling and at the end of queue ropes tell me to pick a line, either “Appointment” or “Walk-In.” Seems easy enough. I strut my stuff right up to the front of the appointment line, ignoring the evil glares that are burning a hole through my back. Now, the Apple store. Oh Apple, this is where it all went downhill for me. Your odd neon lighting gave me so much hope. The Apple store has a bunch of tables with computers on them, people milling about looking at accessories and a big bar in the back where repairs are obviously taking place. I showed up a few minutes before my appointment (yes, seriously, an appointment for the Apple store) so I figured I would wait in what appeared to be a line near the Genius Bar (yeeeeeeep, that’s what it’s called). Well, it wasn’t a line, it was some dad watching his toddlers play around on the free computers. “Okay, I must have to check-in” I thought. At this point I had been there for several minutes and not ONE person had greeted me or asked if I needed help. And how could I tell who I was supposed to talk to because all the employees are dressed like hipsters and carrying around iPads, which is the same thing all the customers are doing! Finally, I tracked someone down, he checks me in and tells me to sit at the bar and wait until I’m called.

The Wait – Winner DMV



The DMV gave me a number. A number that comes after other numbers. I knew exactly when my turn was getting close. I felt confident that no one who showed up after me and who needed the same type of help would be served before me. I had no clue wtf was going on at the Apple store. There I sat on a barstool with no foot rest (Which is not flattering for a girl with thick legs. Seriously, I need a foot rest so the legs don’t get all mashed flat!), surrounded by “cool” people who made me feel like a fat-thighed grandma and hoped that one of the people behind the counter knew I was there and would serve me at some point. They chatted with each other behind the counter, supervisors made inappropriate jokes with their employees, the guys flirted with mullet girls and I sat. Waiting for someone too look at me. There was no chitchatting at the DMV. Aside from a giddy girl who got her license, there were hardly any noticeable smiles.  How could I argue when they took someone before me who had actually shown up after me? I had no idea if their appointment was before mine. I had no idea what my, or their, “number” was. Finally, I got annoyed and asked if I would be helped soon. It’s amazing how quickly one can get service once they start making a stink. Suddenly I was next in line. I definitely waited longer to talk to one of the chatty computer boys than I waited to talk to the DMV people.

The Fixing Process – Winner DMV

I knew exactly what I needed to do to change my name at the DMV. Fill out this form. Show this document. Pay this much. Take your new picture. Your new license will come in a x-number of weeks. When I finally talked to someone at Apple, he told me my computer was pretty dirty (thanks, judgy mcjudgerson) but that replacing the defective part wouldn’t take long at all. I figured it wouldn’t take much to unscrew four screws, slap a new bottom cover on, re-screw screws. Hell, I almost asked him to just give me the part and let me do it. But, no, he said just a few minutes. I could do that. Apparently in Apple land a “few” means 30+. All the while I sat on the barstool, trying desperately to make eye-contact with someone who might take pity on me and give me an update. So, again, I asked what the holdup was. I was clearly annoyed at this point, the part they were replacing was a recall, it’s not like I busted something and was asking for special treatment! I was also starting to get bitter toward my husband for asking me to do this for him. I don’t like getting angry at Shaggy for things that are not his fault, which in turn made me bitter at Apple for making me bitter at him! It was a vicious cycle. And, once again, just like magic my computer was suddenly done when I asked about it. Truth is, it was sitting there for quite awhile but my initial computer wiz had already moved on to the next customer. One whose teeny tiny midriff was showing and who had several piercings in her face and in the back of her neck. Yeah, I’d help her over me, too.

Is that enough? Do you see it now?? The Apple store is a horrible place that temporarily sucked away all my self-confidence and patience. The DMV made me feel on top of the world (hey, at least I was going back to a job that wasn’t the DMV!). DMV people thanked me. Not one time did anyone thank me for coming or wish me a good day at Apple. My next computer will not be a Mac, I am too scared to ever go back to that bad place!

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