airports, court, custody, egg donation, single mom, wine


I’m beat. This vacation has been totally exhausting. Here’s an update:

My egg donation is finally starting to kick into gear. I flew to San Francisco yesterday morning and went directly from the airport to my appointment at the fertility clinic. After 2 hours of ultrasounds, blood draws and general oogling of success stories framed in the lobby, I treated myself to a shopping trip to a real Victoria’s Secret. The closest one to Durango is 3 hours away. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

I didn’t have time to eat lunch before my appointment, and after my blood had been sufficiently drained, I was feeling a little woozy after the 10 block walk to the nearby mall. The nurses were appalled that I was even walking alone.

“Its’ freezing out there!”

I looked out the window to the light sprinkle of rain that was falling. I wanted to say, “Honey, I just came from 3 feet of snow,” but I told her I would be fine.

The only people walking were 2 Black teenagers and an old Asian woman; and me, the backpack-toting, parka-wearing Colorado hippie. P.S. Project Merry Christmas did get me an AWESOME coat.

The mall was so crowded that I didn’t go near the food court. I made a b-line for Vickie’s Secret and power-shopped until my gift card was spent. At about 5:30 pm, I was nearing starvation. I walked around the neighborhood, hoping to find a good Chinese restaurant. Denied.

I decided I should get to the hotel. I attempted 3 cab companies before finding one that was in my area, and paid the ridiculous $25 to get to my hotel. My stomach was growling like Catwoman. I lurched to my room and went directly to the yellow pages.

After the 5th Chinese Restaurant told me they did not deliver, I gave up. It was almost 7:30 pm. I washed off the airport travel grime and went down to the hotel bar, which was rumored to serve sushi as well as drinks.

The sushi case was empty. I ordered a glass of wine and called my child to say goodnight. The bartender took pity on me and asked if I wanted to order off the regular menu, even though the restaurant was closed and he wasn’t supposed to let us eat at the bar. I ordered a shamefully priced burger and fries and another glass of wine.

The Barkeep asked me if I was working on homework. Wow do I look like a college student? I told him it was court paperwork, even MORE fun! He didn’t speak to me for the rest of the night. Eh, he looked 18 anyway.

I finished my parenting plan and was a little tipsy, even after devouring my burger and fries. I ordered another glass of wine.  I ordered Tiramisu. I was beginning to feel like Jabba the drunken Hutt.

I went up to my room and watched reality TV until I passed out.

Sometime in the dead of the night, I woke up feeling like a sack of wet cement. It was official, I had stuffed myself to the gills and I was paying the price in utter misery.

Lesson #1 learned in 2009: Just because you are starving and haven’t had a night to yourself in months, doesn’t mean you should consume a buffet and imbibe a keg. In other words, just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.


12 thoughts on “Cramming”

  1. Ohhhhh, yes. I had company over last night, and I had waaaay too many cocktails. Now this morning I have to listen to cartoons while recovering. I feel like crap.


  2. So funny, I spent the weekend away from my kids and found myself in the very same predicament. Ate too much, drank too much and had a miserable time as a result! I need another weekend away to recover from my weekend away 🙂


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