So last week I'm type type typing away at work when suddenly a g-chat window pops up from Mojo and she's all "have you heard the good news about Kat?" And I'm all "No?" And she's all "oh you gotta ask her!" So I whip out the BlackBerry and go to my BlackBerry Messenger (a.k.a. BBM a.k.a. Beautiful Black Man) and I'm all "Kat." No response. So I'm all "Kat?" No response. So I'm all "Kat Kat Kat Kat Kat Kat Kat what's new?" No response. So then I switch back to Mojo and I'm all "I can't get a hold of her. What happened?" And she tells me the good news. And it is grood!
Like I said, bitch trumped me. I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY KATYA. I'm sorry for all of the anguish this caused the rest of you. The pain. The confusion. I know it was hard on many of you. I promise Frozen Drink Night will go on with a non-virgin margarita planted firmly in my hand.
Not surprisingly, one day of fending this off led me to face plant in a giant margarita or four. Simply because I can. Because not pregnant ladies can do that. I also find this all a bit ironic considering I'm usually the one running in circles around the kitchen in a tizzy because I've convinced myself that I'm with child and I've been doing so much aggressive day drinking recently that SURELY there are going to be some MAJOR problems here and now my baby will never quite figure out that it's the ROUND peg that goes in the ROUND hole and the SQUARE peg goes in the SQUARE hole and it's all my fault remain calm remain calm REMAIN CALM.
A few hours go by and Kat Beautiful Black Mans me back and is all "I'm pregnant." Now here's where it gets tricky so follow closely. I KNOW Kat is not pregnant. I KNOW what the real good news is. But she doesn't know I know. Are you following? She's trying to trick me. So I decide to get in on the game and trick her back so I'm all "oh em gee I'm pregnant too! We can be pregnant TOGETHEERRR!"
For the next 30 minutes we furiously message each other with congratulations, pregnancy cravings, nursery colors and baby sexes. Neither of us will admit to the other that we are kidding.
Our conversation continues until finally Kat's all "Man all this excitement! Time for me to go to bed! You'll have to lay off the booze now!! But we're in it together!" And I bid her adieu 'cause being fake pregnant is very tiring.
Minutes later I get a text message: "YOU'RE PREGNANT AND THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT?" And I'm all "whaaaaa?" And then I get another "PREGNANT?!" And another "Congratulations!" And another "Oh my god I'm going to be an aunt!" And another "What the fuck is going ON?!" And another "I'm so confused!" And another "You're pregnant!!!!" Until I realize that there seems to be a problem on my hands. The problem being: suddenly everyone thinks I'm pregnant.
So I flip open Facebook and it turns out that Kat had left me a little message on my wall. "I can't believe you're preggers!!! Congratulations!!!! Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!"
BITCH TRUMPED ME. PUBLICLY.
And thus the shit storm began. Texts and phone calls came in all night. I had to turn my phone off so I could go to sleep. People congratulating, wondering, asking. Bridget ... PREGNANT? Could this really BE? The next day, e-mails were pouring in from colleagues, friends, and very confused relatives.
I SWEAR I'M NOT PREGNANT, PEOPLE. You go and try to make one little joke and suddenly someone writes on your Facebook wall and the world thinks you are with child. And just as suddenly everyone is very worried about your drinking habits.
Since the Facebook wall posting on Thursday evening, here is a list of the responses it elicited, most within 24 hours. Because many of you would never want friends, parents, border control to know that you are actually friends with me, don't worry, I've removed your last names. Start from the bottom:
Like I said, bitch trumped me. I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY KATYA. I'm sorry for all of the anguish this caused the rest of you. The pain. The confusion. I know it was hard on many of you. I promise Frozen Drink Night will go on with a non-virgin margarita planted firmly in my hand.
Not surprisingly, one day of fending this off led me to face plant in a giant margarita or four. Simply because I can. Because not pregnant ladies can do that. I also find this all a bit ironic considering I'm usually the one running in circles around the kitchen in a tizzy because I've convinced myself that I'm with child and I've been doing so much aggressive day drinking recently that SURELY there are going to be some MAJOR problems here and now my baby will never quite figure out that it's the ROUND peg that goes in the ROUND hole and the SQUARE peg goes in the SQUARE hole and it's all my fault remain calm remain calm REMAIN CALM.
It's not that I don't want to make babies. I do very much. In fact, I want a whole litter of babies. Blonde ones, obviously. And no ugly ones, also obviously. I just don't want to make babies right now. I like frozen drink night. And day drinking at the beach. And having the only responsibility of my day be walking the dog and occasionally doing some laundry because I'm out of clean underwear again.
So yeah. Just another day in the casa de Yella. Sorry to get your hopes up, mom! But it must be such a relief that friends came to the conclusion that I "drink too much to be preggers." So proud. So proud.
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7 comments:
Wait? You're pregnant?
You know what they say about protesting too much.
Will you name the baby Avitable?
Um, congrats on the no baby? Well congrats on Frozen Drink Night at least. I think I could use one or several.
@Avitable, if I actually am pregnant right now, I promise that I will name it Avitable
My friend Pam and I are in a work/social organization with 50+ members. The past two meetings, she's thought it was a great idea to announce that I was pregnant during introductions.
I'm NOT. I feel your pain.
You're pregnant? Congratulations! Now YOU get to be the designated driver!
Woohoo.
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