Happy Halloween!

We had a nice pumpkin-carving party yesterday evening! People I like came, which is always good. Unlike Chris, I did not strike out on my own and create a pumpkin design from scratch. I used one of the patterns.


In fact, of the people carving here last night, everyone made their own designs except for me and Tom, and my friend Maria. Tom carved an intricate cat design, and Maria and I both did faces. I was more concerned with having fun than being creative, and sometimes being creative involves thought, so I figured I’d be best off just using a pattern. That’s what they’re there for, after all. Uh, god. I’m justifying. Dammit, I shouldn’t have to justify myself to you people! :)

In other news, I am now on Clomid, a fertility drug. Here is your lesson in female anatomy. No, not the fun parts. The icky, deep-within-the-guts parts.

Every month, your ovary makes a follicle that grows a blueberry sized bulb on the end. Like a flower bud on a stalk inside the ovary. When the bulb bursts, an egg floats out and the body begins making all sorts of hormones in greater amounts than before. Ovulation! It’s much nicer than saying your girlfriend just laid an egg. I guess.

Anyway, if any of this is dramatically mistimed, you might get pregnant, but since the womb wasn’t properly bathed in hormones, the pregnancy will probably fail. And that’s the short and vague description of the whole process.

Turns out, I don’t ovulate very often. And when I do, my ovaries don’t send out the message to kick the hormones into overdrive. In short, I have lazy ovaries. They can do their jobs, but usually just choose not to. Hey, I can’t blame them. If I could get away with that in my job, I would.

(Speaking of, I have a whole boatload of papers to grade that I have been putting off for three weeks. That is so bad. I have got to do them tonight.)

So anyway, Clomid is like caffeine for your ovaries. Let’s hope mine wake up! I want to be a mom!