Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Splendor In The Gas

"Isn't there a Slanket somewhere you should be filling with your farts?"

Salma Hayek said that to Liz Lemon on an episode of 30 Rock, and now I always think of it when I pull on what I have come to know affectionately as "my Slank." But now that I have pregnancy gas it's not as funny, because it's true.

God, I am the worst. All day I've been burping uncontrollably, and then my nose started to run, but only out of one nostril, which seems worse somehow. I don't know if I have allergies or a cold, and I don't really know how to tell the difference because aren't they basically the same, except that one is caused by tree pollen and one is caused by that peanut M&M you ate even though a consumptive toddler had been palming it like a tai chi ball before you "borrowed it" from them?

Anyway.

I was trying to work despite my carbonated intestines and liquid sinuses when my upstairs neighbor started playing Rock Band. More specifically, he started playing Smash Mouth and Blink 182 on Rock Band. I burped my dismay but I don't think he heard me, so instead of working I ate an ice cream bar and read about Arnold Schwarzenegger's love child in retaliation. Then he played "Sister Christian" by Night Ranger, which you know is my aural emotional kryptonite, so I had continue not working for a little bit in order to weep softly into my right nostril snot rag.

Jeff pretends he's still attracted to me, but I'm pretty sure he's lying so I won't fart on him, or start to cry. Lately I've been anchored on the couch every night, resplendent in my machine-washable polyester caftan, surrounded by wadded-up tissues and food wrappers, looking like Marlon Brando in The Island of Dr. Moreau. I might as well be in one of those dioramas at the Museum of Natural History:

During the late twentieth and early twenty-first century before the new Ice Age, the Una ranged over eastern North America and parts of western Europe, although it generally preferred to stay within a one-mile radius of its apartment. Although it resembles a sloth in appearance, the Una is actually more closely related to humans and apes. Its name is derived from the reported (and photographically confirmed) unibrow it was born with and later removed. Una can weigh over one hundred pounds, but appear much larger because of their oversize sweatpants and voluminous "Slanket" coverings, which bear traces of some staples of the Unas' diet, such as artificial cheese dust and coffee Haagen Dazs. The Una became extinct after experiencing sudden cardiac death brought on by hysterical weeping to the power ballad "Sister Christian" by Night Ranger, an American rock band that gained popularity during the 1980s and then faded into obscurity.

My nails are looking pretty good, though. So I've got that going for me.
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15 comments :

  1. i'm sure your hair has never felt better too. that's a plus. maybe doesn't outweigh the weeping and farting. but a plus nonetheless!

    you make pregnancy sound sexy.

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  2. Pregnancy gas is not to be trifled with. I had insomnia for the last 3 weeks of my first pregnancy (first of 4-so much gas, so much prettiness) and so there I sat, on a giant fart pillow, reading as many Danielle Steele and VC Andrews books as I could get my hands on. Farting like a trucker. That pillow had to be disposed of very carefully. If you're wondering why I abused the pillow so, I was still young enough and infatuated enough to not want my (first, now ex) husband to hear the thunderous sounds coming from my ass.

    So yeah, I was hot.

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  3. Best. Post. Ever. Laughed hard throughout!

    Hey, be glad you've got a fetus to blame the gas on...right?

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  4. My husband is literally afraid of my gas since I'm pregnant. Its pretty awesome. I can now get back at him for all his stinky farts.

    Also you may be able to blame the fetus for your runny nose. Just another of the joys of pregnancy.

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  5. I think my pregnancy gas could be bottled up and sold as a cockroach spray. Seriously, it's that deadly.

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  6. Just you wait 'til the incontinence comes a' knockin'...

    Oh, and I feel sorry for your left nostril. She must feel left out! ;)

    Baby Talk without the Babble

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  7. You are the most hilarious pregnant woman on earth.

    And duh Jeff is still attracted to you. You're flowing :) I mean, glowing. That was a typo and I'm too lazy to correct it.

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  8. Oh yeah, I remember the pregnancy gas. I think I floated near our ceiling the last couple of months of each pregnancy!

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  9. Isn't it comforting to have a useful article of 'clothing' that you will never outgrow during your pregnancy? A little one stop shop...fart tent, big bib...you can stash all the food items you don't want Jeff to see you munching on, a receptacle for used and unused tissues...you are one big, er, pregnant, magic show! You could even pull a rabbit outta that thing! Keep em' comin' Gassy Sassy!

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  10. What is love? Love is pretending someone is attractive so that they won't get farted on. Basically.

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  11. So I read something recently that said many pregnant women have sinus issues, just because. Just another really awesome side affect of growing life, I guess, and now every time I meet a new pregnant woman I notice she is always congested.

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  12. Dude, whether you know it or ya don't, you're already practicing for being an awesome mom! Do you know how easy it is for me to imagine you and Jeff goofing around with your son, inserting each other's behavioral quirks into museum-plaque-esque descriptions like the one at the end of this post? VERY EASY.

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  13. Hey! I'm seeing Journey, Foreigner and Night Ranger later in the summer!! Oh and Blink 182 was my favorite band for about 10 years and I saw them in concert like 5 summers in a row.

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  14. Bad news, you'll probably have a runny nose your entire pregnancy. Those mucus membranes are having a field day!

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  15. Una, honey, I believe you're suffering from what I've come to call "Procreation Pity." It's just part of the fun of it all. The mood swings, from uncontrollable laughing that segue into crying hysterically, the feeling of "I'm so ugly/fat/worthless" segueing into I am "beautiful/earth mother/invincible!" The bouts of nausea and vomiting immediately followed by eating everything within a radius of one square mile. And if you're really lucky you'll get to scare Jeff with the "don't touch me, you evil penis owner!" followed immediately by "give me that penis, give it to me now!" And of course the gastrointestinal fireworks of farting, constipation and hemorrhoids, plus the peeing, followed by the wanting to pee but can't get it out thing.

    All of these are the stuff that Procreation Pity are made of. Jeff will not be immune, either, as he tries to swing wildly with you from one bizarre mood/craving/bodily function to the exact opposite. But it's all good, honey, just relax and remember these are good times, good times.

    It's your Procreation Pity Party and you can cry/fart/eat pickled jalepenos and cookie dough together if you wanna! ;-)

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