Prodigal Blogger

Enthusiastic Hack has been quite prolific in his writings recently, and is feeling the pressure to satisfy his loyal and adoring fan base. While I on the other hand have been busy growing his baby.

As such, due to various circumstances beyond my control (read: incessant nausea) the only things I have to really write about are the most amusing places I have lost my breakfast/lunch/dinner.

I think the best one was in the manicured box hedges outside my chiropractor's. The elderly couple walking past at the time didn't seem to find it amusing though, by the looks on their faces.

Especially fun too are the condescending comments from other women about morning sickness. Such as , "Oh you musn't be eating a cracker before you get out of bed" Yeah like a cracker is gonna help me. Most of these are just amusing but occasionally you get the odd person who seems to be trying to upset me, by trivialising my experience or dismissing it all together. In these cases, depending on my mood, I either want to hit them, or go and cry somewhere quietly by myself. Yesterday I did the latter.

But, before you start feeling sorry for me, I must add that I was at a Tupperware party - which should be renamed 'Tupper Torture' and a persons behaviour cannot be judged when obviously under such duress.

I almost always find myself having an outer body experience at such 'parties'. I feel like I am stuck in an alternate universe where people pretend to care about PLASTIC. At least I tell myself this. Because the alternative - that people actually do care about that stuff - is too much for me to bare. And the hardest part is pretending to act like I care about it also. It's almost like I have to shrink my personality down to practically nothing, and nod and smile while pretending to be interested in the banal conversation I have found myself in, all the while feeling like I want to scream. It's suffocating.

The thing is, if I were to actually be myself and contribute to such conversations in a genuine manner, I am sure, in fact I know, that my thoughts/opinions/general banter would be far to confronting or alien for those present. Then there would be an awkward moment, and then I wouldn't be able to talk to them anymore. So I stick with the 'plaster a vague look on my face and don't say much at all' strategy. Then I come home and decompress, ie: rant.

So I have been to two of these Tupperware parties in recent weeks, and been the dutiful cousin/friend. But I think I have reached my threshold. No longer will I expose myself to inane discussions about the best sized fridgemate for broccoli to be stored in. NO! I am taking a stand!