roxybisquaint

I started to write up an actual review, but then LJ glitched and I decided not to invest any further energy into writing about a lame Terminator movie. This is a just a copy pasta of the notes I took while watching and immediately afterwards.

roxybisquaint

You know the scene in True Blood when Sookie walks into Merlotte's and gets overwhelmed by hearing everyone's thoughts? That's how I feel when I pop onto Twitter or Facebook now. It's a constant din of thought chatter. I can barely use it anymore; it hurts my head too much.

roxybisquaint

Don't worry, it's not ncessarily a bad thing anymore. Being a "bigot" now just means that you're in disagreement with the latest trend in perceived social injustice. In this case, I'm on the opposition side of the new gender-feels public bathroom policy Target stores have enacted. I've been told by those who support this type of policy that there are only two points of view: that which supports it and that which is bigoted. So call me a bigot then, I guess?

I don't have a problem with transgender people using whichever bathroom they prefer because if someone really is a T, they're living as the opposite sex and, in the public spehere, no one but them would even know it anyway. And considering somewhere around 50% of the population of the United States (or maybe just 50% of Twitter and Facebook users?) is suddenly transgender (or at least has lots of transgender bffs), I've surely peed in a stall next to many a T and didn't know nor care. Why would I? It's their business, not mine. What I do have a problem with is creating an absurd and reckless policy about it.

Since the dawn of public Men's and Women's restrooms, it's been understood by everyone that the men's room is for males and the women's room is for females. If you're one of the few who are caught biologically or emotionally in the middle, you simply make a choice. If you "pass", you use the one you pass for. If you know you don't pass, you use the one that matches your gender (gender in this context means sex (sex in this context means anatomy (anatomy in this context means genitalia (genitalia in this context means penis and vagina)))). That's what's known as discretion and it's a rather important component of civilized society. This is pretty basic stuff, I know, but for some reason, it's getting harder for people to comprehend.

Target's new mix-and-match bathroom policy denounces discretion, negates the expecation of same-sex privacy and flies in the face of common fucking sense. In their misguided attempt to don a virtuous badge of "inclusiveness", I believe they've created a half-baked solution to a non-existent problem.

roxybisquaint

Quickie opinion on #Genisys: Starts great, then ok/fun, then headache-inducing, then cheesy. Overall not as bad as expected. Better than T3.

— Roxy Bisquaint (@RoxyBisquaint) July 4, 2015

@tackdriver56 I'll have more to say later, but for now: I say it's worth seeing for the first 20 minutes or so alone. #Genisys

— Roxy Bisquaint (@RoxyBisquaint) July 4, 2015

roxybisquaint

So, what can be done about all this?

roxybisquaint

Well, I did it. I rewatched all 7 seasons of Gilmore Girls. What started as a temporary feel-good measure turned into a feel-good bender. I feel lost now without more episodes to watch. How can I be done? Waaaaah.

Oh how I love that theme song. I love it so much that I could never bring myself to jump past the opening credits. I had to hear it and I had to sing along... 153 times. It gave me warm, fuzzy feel goods every time. In the world of TV show openings, it's definitely one of the best. I'm so glad they never changed it (aside from a few clip updates along the way). I hate when shows change ruin their intros.

roxybisquaint

If you ever find yourself wallowing in the aftermath of miscarriage (yeah, that finally happened*), I highly recommend going back to the beginning of Gilmore Girls to binge-watch your blues away. I don't think I've seen this show since it went off the air, so diving back in all these years later is almost as good as watching it for the first time. It's such sweet, feel-good fun — exactly what I need right now. I doubt I'll rewatch all 7 seasons, but I'm halfway through season 2 and it's still giving me joy. I think I'll keep going for a while.


* So, the miscarriage... That was the most horrifically painful unpleasant five days of my life. My doctor told me it would be like a heavy period. What a big fat lie that was. Thank God for so many women on pregnancy forums describing every painful, gory detail of their miscarriage experiences or I would've thought I was dying. Am I being dramatic? No. It was brutal. The "death cramps" I used to get in my early years of womanhood would've been a welcomed trade-off.

The first day... holy shit. If there's one day I'd like to remove from my memory forever that'd be the one. It was excrutiating. By the wee hours of the following morning, I was so fatigued and my body so stressed from all the pain that I started having these extreme chills with uncontrollable shaking with every contraction. My temperature dropped to 96.4º! That was a little scary. I think it scared the man too because on more than one occasion since then, he's said, "I'm glad you didn't die."

After that first 24 hours or so, the pain wasn't quite as severe and it mostly came at night. Mostly. There was crampiness during the day, but I mainly just had 2-3 hours of bad pain every night for the next four nights. I really think miscarriages should be like they are on TV: pregnant woman walks into the bathroom one day and declares something's wrong. Cut to next scene and she's fine, just not pregnant anymore. The end. But for me, the whole process ended up taking five days. Five miserable, awful days.

Emotionally, I think I'm doing okay. I'm a little up and down and even though it's now been several days since all this, I still have random weepiness. Aside from a sense of loss over what might've been, I've still got a substantial level of pregnancy hormone coursing through me, so I guess feeling emotional is to be expected. I've got weekly blood tests to monitor my hormone level until it gets back to normal and I've got an ultrasound coming up to make sure all the "products of conception" (gotta love those medical terms) are gone. Fingers crossed they are because if I require medical intervention after going through five days of natural hell, I might just crack.

In the meantime, I'll be hanging with Lorelai, Rory and the rest of the quirky characters of Stars Hollow.

roxybisquaint

Did you know that when you're over 45, you have less than a 1% chance of conceiving naturally? I didn't. Not until I recently (and rather unexpectedly) found myself as one of the less than 1%. Yep, I got pregnant. It was a shock to say the least, but it's amazing how fast I embraced the idea of having a baby even at my ripe old age. The man seemed excited too.

My doctor was less enthusiastic, practically calling the pregnancy unviable from the moment my blood test came back positive. Her reasons were statistical—miscarriage rates are extremely high for women over 45. I already knew that because in between the time of my 3 positive home pregnancy tests and the blood test results, I'd filled my days obsessively reading everything on the internet about "advanced maternal age" pregnancies. So I tried hard to keep my emotions in check and expect that this pregnancy was unlikely to go anywhere. I wasn't very successful, though.

When I had my first ultrasound a week or so later, they measured the "fetal pole" to be 6 weeks 1 day and no heartbeat was found. With that news, my doctor declared it unviable. There was another ultrasound scheduled for the following week, as well as more blood tests to confirm everything and now that I'm on the other side of all that, it's a done deal that this little sliver of a life never made it beyond 6 weeks. And I'm so sad about this. I'm like crazy sad.

What makes it all worse is that I didn't get pregnant and miscarry, I got pregnant and it died and I didn't miscarry. What kind of mother nature fuckery is that? As I sit here writing this, I've got a teeny tiny dead fetus in my womb that for whatever reason won't come out. "Missed miscarriage", they call it. Fucked up, I call it.

Now I've got 3 options: wait to miscarry naturally (my doctor put a two week limit on that idea because of the risk of infection if it stays in there too long), take some pills to induce a miscarriage (I've read nothing but horrible accounts from women who took that route), or schedule a D&C to have my uterus scraped out. Eep. What I'd like is a 4th option that includes a backwards time jump so I can abstain from sex and prevent all of this from ever happening. But since I can't have that, I've settled on waiting another week to see if I'll miscarry and then schedule a D&C if I don't.

This sucks.