I always have trouble with these birthday posts. I feel like they are required, and yet, I'm always wholly uninspired. I never feel like I have anything to say.
I truly don't mind getting older. There are some sad things about this birthday, mostly related to the stuff I wrote about in my last post, but in general, aging is surprisingly enjoyable. (If I live to be REALLY old, I'll probably need to revise that opinion, but for now, I'm sticking with it.) And I'm lucky. I look young. Since I fail to enjoy so many little markers of privilege (not white, not thin) I'll take it, even though it's obviously a ridiculous thing to worry about. Still, it does allow me to make a lot of "old" jokes. Today's went like this: "I'm getting so old. I'm basically the Crypt Keeper at this point. In a few years, I'll probably be a ghost."
That's me. Super hilarious.
I'm pregnant. Knocked up. Harbouring a fugitive. Up the duff. In a delicate condition. BAKING. With child, as it were. (To compile this list, I Googled "euphemisms for pregnant", just so you know. Don't do it. It's stupid.) I'm about 6.5 months in and I haven't told that many people. So consider this your official notice. Additional info is available on this vaguely humorous website we made. It's entitled OUR PARASITIC SPAWN. What can I say? Being pregnant is some crazy ass nonsense. And I'm sure having an actual kid will be even worse. At the same time, there are so many people who want kids and haven't been able to have them, who have had traumatic pregnancy experiences, and who just don't want to hear about it, so it's not always easy to talk about. I've kept it quiet for a lot of reasons.
Nonetheless, congratulations ME, right? Chalkin' up another year. Growin' another human. Doin' all the shit. It's all happening. I guess that's all I have to say about that. If anybody needs me, I'll be eating cake.