How does one make a soundtrack for a raunchy book? Let's say, a book like Fifty Shades of Grey.
I doubt it would have anything to do, at all, with the book. I'd be willing to bet my lacy knickers that it would just be a whole slew of funky tunes to groove, grind and get some sweet lovin' to.
Either a ton of Barry White, or just a whole album of non-descript instrumental naughty music.
Either way, I wouldn't buy the soundtrack. I'm cheap. I'd rather just hum my own little dirty-ditty to myself as I read.
I don't think I'd ever make it in the prestigious porn music business. No one can get off to an upbeat, peppy tune of "bom, chee, bom bom buh chee chee, boom dee, bom bom ba dee dee" that I would try to pass off as sensual.
I have difficulty creating sexiness. You know, actions, situations, "come hither" looks. Not suprising as my Libido is about as smoldering and spicy as a bucket of slugs, wet with the morning dew.
Mmm... What's cookin' good lookin'?
In other news...
I'm losing my "baby weight" that I gained with my daughter at an.... acceptable rate. well, i supposed I could even call it a good rate, considering the fact that i haven't been medically cleared for exercise since i was sawed in half and pryed open with the Jaws of Life.
My loving, delicious hunk of Man Meat of a husband tells me most every day how good I'm looking, and that I'm beautiful. Here's how today's conversation went:
Mike: You're looking so great, Honey! I gotta admit, when you walked away from me in the mall today, I was enjoying watching that Badonkadonk sway!
Me: Thanks, Babe. I'm getting it back!
Mike: You never lost it.
Me: Um.... then... I have some pictures for you to look at. (referencing my 2010 Rise to Blimp-hood)
Mike: Ok, maybe last pregnancy, when you got up past 200 pounds, you might have been pushing it a little.
Me: Well, I wanted to see if I could make it work in the Double Century realm. It turns out it wasn't cute. Not cute at all. I might have lost it then, it might have gone south fast, really fast.
Mike: It might have wandered away....
Me: Yeah, it was.... something.
But still cute, though, right?
In a nearly related note; i keep having these stressful sex dreams in which i wake up just seething with anger.... foaming at the mouth.... other angry autonomic bodily responses.
the one i had last night went thusly.
I was cuddling with one of Mike's Army buddies, telling him about my problems, hopes, dreams, feeling etc, and he's listening and chiming in appropriately and sweetly and for all intents and purposes i'm having an emotional affair.
which i'm fine with.
because in the dream Mike is furious with me for even being there where everyone is, because i'm "messing up the firewall and now he can't download his porn, get off, or meet up with other people".
i woke up the next morning, stayed mad for a good hour, and then decided that YES it was just a dream, my husband is still my loving husband, and i dont need to go a-murderin' yet.
also, i'm not going to the mall again until i'm under 150 pounds. i went today and nearly instantly regreted that decision.
yike. too tired to finish. going to bed. and NOT in the fun way, mind you.
It's always difficult for me to find a way to dive into these posts.
I guess a non-descript awkward intro is as good as any.
Since we last..... heard.... from my brain i was 17 weeks pregnant and all hopped up on ambien. Well, if one CAN be hopped up on ambien. It might be more accurate to say i was getting sloppy and fizzling out on ambien. that sounds better.
long story short, i had a baby GIRL (Teva) about 3 weeks ago, pregnancy sucks a bag of soggy moldy warthog dicks, and the only thing keeping me from spiraling into drunken self-loathing/medicating is the staunch fact that the alcohol would pass into my breast milk.
it's a thin, thin line to walk but i do because i want what's best for my little girl.
there is plenty of time for me to be self destructive after the kids leave for college. or the army.
it's interesting, not being pregnant anymore. some things are the same:
1) I'm still waaaaaayyy fatter than i care to be.
2) my feet and knees still hurt.
3) none of my shirts fit.
4) i can forget about looking cute, too.
5) i still have to give myself shots everyday.
some things are different:
1) my boobs are ginormous. epic, even. seriously. one of my boobs is about twice the size of my infant's head. what is that even about, body?
2) i no longer crave iced, apple-filled donuts everyday. now it's every other minute.
3) from the waist up i look like.... a slightly thicker/voluptuous version of myself.
4) from the waist down i look like a thickly scarred mistake of a train wreck of a humanoid.
so, let's just say i don't feel very attractive lately.
turns out, surprise surprise, that it's harder to bounce back from a subsequent pregnancy than it is the first one.
case and point (case in point?), i looked back through my Facebook posts too after i had my first kiddo (Ronin), just to see what my weight loss progress had been around two weeks postpartum.
i should NOT have done that. something tells me that it isn't fair to judge my current body by my younger body's standards, but it's still hard to not feel inadequate when i see that last time I'd lost 40 pounds at this point instead of my measly 16.
meh. whatever.
postpartum depression sucks a pee-stained roach bespeckled rug.
wow. 3 weeks of getting less than 4 hours of sleep at one time is turning me into a really bitchy-witchy.
there we go. maybe that made you smile.
here's something...
Mr. Alexander Skarsgard of True Blood (he plays Eric Northman), was in Zoolander. Don't believe me? Does ORANGE MOCHA FRAPPUCCINO ring some bells?
but then again, of COURSE Alexander Skarsgard is in Zoolander; he's really really really really really ridiculously good-looking.
to use my husband's method of ranking hotness- Alexander Skarsgard would get it. yeeeeaaaaaaapp.
well, it's time to feed my new Tiny Human. and even though he says "no Mommy, I all clean", i KNOW Ronin has a diaper that needs some attention.
so i hope this is good for now. aaaaaaaaaannd maybe it won't take me 22 weeks to write my next post.
i'm sure they're all mentally unsound when they are with child.
AS AM I.
my hormones are taking over and it's alarming how very OK with it i am...... devilish grin. smiley face.
Tiny Example: i'm eating my Feelings in the form of Chocolate Ice Cream and a Strawberry Lemon-Cream cupcake. the flavors dont exactly mix but i'm shoveling it in so fast that i don't care.
Medium Example: Started crying uncontrollably while listening to this song in the car and thinking about my husband, son, and unborn child-
pretty self explanatory really.
Large Example: A week and a half ago someone stole our trash can from out in front of our house after the garbage truck came by. A day later my husband spotted it sitting in plain sight in our next door neighbor's back yard. (this is the same family that claims "Chris", name changed to protect his identity.... like i care... who stole all the food out of our pantry, cleaned out boxes of frozen meats from our freezer, his girlfriend stole my favorite brand new unused shampoo and conditioner, trashed our back yard, and left my kitchen a sticky mess.) to be clear, OUR trash can is light light light grey with a forest green lid. all of THEIR trash cans are black, lid-less, and have their address painted on the side. so there was no reason to believe that it was an "honest mistake of identity". those Triflin' Bitches straight up stole it. and that Friday, at the next garbage pick up the can didn't come back out front. by Monday, the Piss and also the Vinegar had built up inside me, and heated to the boiling point or whatever the cliche is. so the Hubby and i started to make plans.
Plan A: Steal the trash can back in the night... as their back fence's gate is broken and has been laying on the ground for months now. However, i frown on trespassing. in Texas, Trespassing on private property CAN and USUALLY WILL involve the use of Firearms. Preggo Krista ain't into it.
Plan B: Take our trash bags over and put them in OUR can during the light of day. If we were caught, we'd say something dumb like "oh, don't mind me. just using MY trash can that MaGiCaLLy lives in YOUR backyard now"
Plan C: Knock on their front door, and when they open it hand them our trash bags and ask if they can put it in our trash can that they stole.
GENIOUS PREGNANT KRISTA went with Plan D.
Plan D: in a fit of rage, take the trash bag out of the front yard where it was ready for the next morning's pick up, take it to my backyard, and hurl it wildly and loudly AT my trash can next door.
This ultimately proved to be the most effective plan. A wild animal tore open the bag that night (which had landed.... Near.... my trash can), which resulted in Ronin's used UNHOLY ANATHEMA-filled diapers being strewn across their yard. Muah. Ha. Ha.
What happened?
they waited until about 5pm or so.... then "cleaned" it up by dumping it all in our trash can, and they deposited it back in front of our houses.
so, bottom line: hooray for hormones. they let me DO WHAT I WANT!!
tell you what though, this is Krista's LAST pregnancy. ever. sorry Hubby, i know you wanted one thousand babies. kiss your dream of the last 998 goodbye. it aint happening.
Reason 1: I severely detest giving myself a shot every day.... even though it "prevents" possible blood-clot related Mommy Death.
Reason 2: as my belly gets bigger i find that i can no longer comfortably pee with my knees together. gotta pee like a man pooping.... knees apart. which doesn't help my already laughable Urine Aiming Talent that like most women, i suffer from.
Reason 3: I'M TIRED!!
Reason 4: If my boobs get bigger with each pregnancy, and they're THIS HUGE on THIS one at only 17 weeks in, then i'm going to snap my spine trying to hold them up if i get knocked up again. As it is, i'm overly nervous about when my "milk comes in". Although, my Hubby ASSURES ME that my heaven-sent sweater-puppies are in fact devine.
Reason 5: My husband has VICIOUS MUTANT MURDER-SPERM. you saw how my last kid turned out. He was (and is) perfect and handsome and utterly endearing and sweet. but he did try his best to mutilate me in the process of his glorious entrance into the World of the Living. This next kid might have me pushing up daisies as it is; finish what it's brother started. and..... i'm too..... fun to die? Funny? friendly? random? uhhhhhhhh i'm definitely too SOMETHING to die. i don't know. let me know if you have something that can fit here: "Krista is too ________ to die."
And to close, one of my personal favorite endings....
10 Cute Things That Ronin has done Lately:
1. The "i'm pulling it from a Full Cry-Face to see if you're still watching" Cry Face.
2. Ronin has switched from calling me Mom to MOMMY! in varying degrees of volume which i find impossibly endearing.
3. He like to crawl under to covers with me and we both say "Comfy Cozy!" which, coming out of his mouth sounds like "domdy dohdy".
4. Put a paper bag over his face and put his hands and face through the hole it'd cut out of it for him, then walked around the house, bumping into things saying "i dee do dobot" (translation: i am a robot).
5. He likes to "play" with the kittens with their new Feathers-on-a-stick toy. Well, he calls it play, Mike and I call it Potential Vet Hospital Emergency visit. He also likes to project his LED light stars up on the wall for Mischief to bat at.
6. Speaking of cats, Ronin's favorite game is "Ronin's A Kitty"! he crawls along the top of the couch going "meowme meowme" meowmommy"......
7. He likes to play Tents with Papa. they climb up on Mama and Papa's Big Bed and Ronin says Tent! Tent Papa! Mike pulls the covers up and over then and then all i hear for the next 5 to 10 minutes or so is hushed giggles and "sillly papa" from the other room.
8. So that The Simpsons's opening theme song is one of Ronin's favorite songs. and now he's interactive with it. He'll also point at the door to the music room for Lisa to leave!
9. Ronin has been giving the Baby (encased in it's bump on my belly) a kiss every night before bed time. the other afternoon we were just cuddling on the couch and i said "Ronin, where's the baby?"
he reaches over and pats my tummy saying "BeeeeBee Mommy". then he LEANS IN and puts his cheek next to my belly and puts his arms around me so he could give the baby his first hug from his big brother. i LOVED it soooooooooo much.
10 a few nights ago Mike and I put on Ronin's ULTIMATE FAVORITE SONG; The Credit Song for Portal 1 called "Still Alive" shown here:
the song itsself starts at 45ish seconds into the clip. it's cute, it's short, hell..... i'ts MY favorite song too.
so we put this on and Ronin squeals in the delight, he holds onto the Kindle that it's playing on, and proceeds to spin around and around i can only suppose out of joy.... though me might be trying to initiate a sudden acute onset of Vertigo. but it was so cute. even after he sat down because he was too dizzy, it wasn't enough so when he fell onto his side that's where he ended up watching the last few notes.
HOORAY!! I love being pregnant. In addition to the "normal happy mommy" reasons for bliss, I would like to add these additional personal reasons of my own:
1. I get to be fat without feeling guilty or ugly about it.
2. Stretchy Maternity PANTS!!
3. I get to live in pajama/sweatpants for almost a year while I swell and deflate.
4. My hubby is more inclined to give me Squeezie Feets.
So, just to get y'all up to speed, we're still in Maryland, Ronin is picking up new words right and left, Mike is dropping his officer packet, and I'm almost 9 weeks preggers.
Now on to the fun stuff!!!!!!
I thought a lot about what Maturity is today.
Maturity: Buying the Pop-Tart flavors that my toddler likes instead of the flavors that I want.
Maturity: Only eating one helping of fried rice instead of 5 because I'm eating for One and One Fetus and not One and One Litter.
Maturity: Being okay with myself for only having two solid examples of personal maturity.
The next few things I've been saving up. I have this tiny notebook that I'm pretty sure I yoinked from work several years ago that I write things down in. Here's a few.
*Krista (holding bras up, speaking to Mike's turned back): "Lacy Sexy titslings!"
Mike (turning around): "Titslings?! I had to turn around to see what they were. I was imagining little creatures that had sprouted from your breasts... you know.... Tit-lings."
*It's not playful if it makes me cry inside. (Mike's rebuttal- yes it is!)
*Is it mold... or Jalapeno?
*But I was doing my Barrel of Monkeys dance... and you stopped me mid-Barrel of Monkeys dance...
*I think you'd be hard pressed to get Jesus to pick your boogers for you.
*There's nothing more frightening than someone threatening you with a knife while you're trying to purchase a feminine hygiene product.
*Dear Hulk Hogan,
Please tell me what kind of shampoo and conditioner you use because I envy your luxurious silken fur.
Love, Krista
Here are my predictions for 2012, because I've got, like, ESPN or something.
1) Tori Spelling, the Perpetually Pregnant woman, will be the next "20 kids and counting"/Octomom.
2) I feel another "The Hulk" movie remake coming on...
3) Funk is going to make a full come-back this year. Just funk... in general. The normal kind.
4) Georgia will continue to suck.
5) I will be back to my pre-preggo weight by December 31st!
6) Lindsay Lohan will completely spiral out of control, while Mary-Kate Olsen recovers and gets healthy (I'm rooting for you, MK!)
7) My chest hair will finally grow in.
8) I will get you to envision how I would look in a swim suit with massive amounts of chest hair pouring out of it.
Hey, I didn't say they'd be important predictions or anything.
