Random ramblings from the Texan in London.

That's right, folks, I finally managed to get a doctor's appointment. Just to get you all caught up with my state of mind at the moment, I didn't go to work yesterday. Sunday and Monday saw me pretty much horizontal from the time I woke up to the time I went to bed. I'm nauseous 24/7, not actually being sick, but feeling like I'm going to any time I'm conscious (including midnight bathroom trips). This morning, I hauled myself out of bed, had a genuine moment of panic as I ate my cereal because I honestly thought I might lose it, managed to pour myself into office-appropriate clothing and hied me on my merry way to the GP. He was exactly on time, which shocked me as no doctor I've ever had an appointment with in this country has ever seen me at the scheduled time. Now, I know that you'll all find this funny, which is the only reason I'm going to write about what came next. Believe me when I say that if I didn't know you'd all get a genuin...

I've always had a slightly odd subconscious. Those of you who know me well will remember me talking about some of the slightly less normal dreams I have on a regular basis... the caterpillar that bit me and I started shrinking, the midget in a cartoonishly oversized ten gallon hat chasing me down the street with a gun, the night I managed to continue a dream I started the night before. I've had dreams about flying that were so vivid I can still remember how it physically felt to run down the street as fast as I could, leap as high as possible and start doing the breast stroke in mid air (because that's how you fly, you see). I've had bad ones too, where the flat came alive and wouldn't let me out (had that one twice, in two different settings), where loved ones die, or where Himself cheated on me (that one was so vivid I woke up the next morning still mad). The dreams I'm having now can only be attributed to pregnancy hormones scrambling my brains. They're n...

I'm sure you all realise it by now, given the tagline on the blog and all, but I live in London. Land of permanent strangers. You're lucky if someone holds a door for you... then again, maybe you're not, because that means that seemingly lovely door holding person is either a tourist who will want directions, or a crazy person who will follow you down the street trying to silence the voices in their head by screaming at you to "REPENT!!!"... The point of that little diatribe is this. I called The Mimi tonight on my way home from work. She was having lunch in a restaurant with two of her best friends, and after the obligatory "make Gabs really jealous by telling her what lovely American food I just ate that she can't get in the UK" session, she said "I'm going to do something you wouldn't let me do over there." What did she do, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. She walked over to a total stranger's table in the restaurant an...

When you watch movies, the pregnant women in them seem to float through life on a glowing cloud of happiness. I caught the end of "Notting Hill" earlier this week, and the scene where a heavily pregnant Julia Roberts is lying on a park bench with her head in Hugh Grant's lap, looking blissful and serene, nearly put me over the edge. Movies don't show the constant nausea. You never see the heroine looking green around the gills, having to pee twelve times an hour, or burping in an attempt to settle her guts (for the record, the monster I just produced tasted of pears, honey roasted peanuts and Airwaves gum. Three guesses as to what I've eaten today... good thing I'm the only one in the office. *lol*). From the movies, you'd never even know the heroine HAD guts. I feel like I haven't thought about anything for the last week but food. Let me explain before you get the wrong idea and think I'm sitting around pigging out... I'm constantly casting m...

I went to a friend's leaving drinks tonight. Obviously, due to my aforementioned condition, it was going to be a slightly different night out than we're used to having when we're together (we can get a little silly). I was on the cranberry juice (minus the vodka), and although I accompanied the smokers on a few of their trips outside, I didn't do anything other than longingly sniff at the air. It was a good night, all told. I ate dinner at the pub, which is notorious in the area for good quality food for less cash than you'd expect to pay in a gastropub. I'll elaborate, for those foodies out there. Grilled chicken sandwich with crispy bacon and lettuce, fresh sliced tomato and red onion, wheat bun and huge chunky chips with homemade ketchup... *drool* But I digress. I've become very spoiled in the last few weeks of not having to travel from Uxbridge to Paddington and back. My temp job is literally five minutes walk from our house, and I'll admit fu...

So, I thought I'd been having cravings for the last couple of weeks because I've been eating loads of tuna and pasta, seemed like that was all I wanted to eat. Tuna sandwiches with a cup of tomato soup to dip them in, and egg noodle pasta for some reason. That is, until Monday night. Monday night, Himself called me on his way home from work as usual and asked if we needed anything (again, as usual). I said no, that I'd already been to the store but I wasn't really hungry anyway, and that I'd see him when he got home. I settled in with the cats on the couch and started flicking channels, getting the girlie TV out of the way so that Himself wouldn't have to suffer through it when he got home... Half an hour later, it struck. All of a sudden, out of the blue, I was starving. It wasn't the usual "go rifle through the kitchen until I happen upon something that looks edible" hunger. It was specific, overpowering, CRAVING hunger. What did I want, ...

That's right, folks. The Browns are up the duff. *grin* Shocked? That's okay, so are we. Seems I'm actually related to my mother (who got pregnant while on the pill more than once). Apparently I'm four or five weeks, which may seem like jumping the gun announcement-wise, but I think it'll be interesting to catalogue the changes to my body for future reference... you know, in case in a year or two I forget how miserable I was and decide we need another, I'll have a reminder of what it was like the first time... Heh, just kidding. At least, for now. Physical symptoms aren't too bad at the moment. I've not had any morning sickness (touch wood), but my appetite is very odd. Half the time I'm starving to death, half the time I'm not hungry at all (like now, while Paul is eating lunch and I'm having a glass of orange and peach juice). I've got low level cramps pretty constantly, and it feels like there's a fishhook in my belly but...