Forgive my absence; I assure you, I have excuses.
For one, I killed the hinterweb. Whoever’s wireless I was hijacking, they’ve removed it from my sticky grasp. All the UNsecured networks in my vicinity are too feeble to lock on to, let alone hold up under the aggressive torrent-stuffing I’d want to give them. And then my monitor expired too, without so much as a warning bleep.
For two, I’ve been in denial. I’ve also been in York and Brighton, neither of which I blogged because I was webless (York) and drunk (Brighton), and I hardly took any photos except some of Brighton marina at about 6:30 a.m., when I heaved myself up out of Theo’s boat to get some fresh air. But I digress (denial, remember?): the point I’m failing to make is that I’m pregnant.
I don’t know when it happened. At the end of June I was dancing at the Oakford Social Club the day before my last period arrived. In July I was, well, I forget what I was doing – probably modelling, studying, & bitching about being broke. I had that prosthetics shoot with Draken, then I went to York to visit my grandmother at the end of the month.
Soon after that, in early August I guess, I started feeling nauseous and knackered. Animal was already telling me I was pregnant, but I didn’t believe him. Come to think of it, I bet him a tenner that I wasn’t (don’t remind him about that part, I haven’t paid up). By the time Theo invited us to join him for a night of mayhem in Brighton about halfway through August, I was starting to think it might be true…
On the 25th August, I did one of those pee-on-a-stick home tests. It showed a line where it’s supposed to mean pregnant, but it was kind of faint and I didn’t really believe it. Yes, I’d read the part of the instructions where it clearly said, “It doesn’t matter if one of the lines is fainter than the other, it’s still a positive result”. I just thought, well, but that’s, like, *really really* faint… maybe it’s not really right? (Denial, remember?)
So the following Sunday I woke up, forced myself not to pee yet, and made Animal get out of bed & drive me to a supermarket so I could buy another test. I split a twin-pack with another nervous-looking girl who hit the pregnancy test section at the same time as me, and due to the increasing urgency of the SOS coming from my bladder I went & took the test in the supermarket’s toilet facilities. This time the little pink line was definitely *not* faint. (I still didn’t really believe it tho. Denial. Keeps me sane.)
So I told my mum & my little brother (who’s really ill at the mo & I felt kind of bad for having good news when he’s so very sick, even though obviously it’s better than having more bad news, but hey, I don’t have to make sense all the time right?), and I told my ex-husband (who was pretty damn nice about it, all things considered), and eventually, after trying to text my dad’s Finnish mobile & failing because my text package is only for UK numbers, I went out & bought a mobile broadband dongle so I could email him. And so I could post this blog, and tell you.
So, Machiavelli Id: Preggernaut (combo of preggers, astronaut, and soon to be juggernaut) . I’ll try not to bore you about it.
