Lasagna and catching my new husband masturbating in the shower

On Thursday, April 20, SJ and I got married. That day I worked until 2 p.m., threw on my wedding dress in the building’s bathroom, and took a Lyft to City Hall. SJ and I were dying to take pictures of ourselves with SJ holding his shotgun (a real-live shotgun wedding!), but we were pretty sure…

Chewy coconut cookies and WTF baby blues

Two weeks ago I moved in with SJ. Hired three guys to load all my stuff, including my coffee table (SJ does not believe in coffee tables — he calls them “shinbangers” — so when we want to watch 30 Rock instead of talking to each other, we eat dinner on a piano bench, like…

Eggplant bruschetta and IDGAF

Something weird has been happening: Strangers are noticing my body and reacting to it, and I don’t like it. WHAT ARE YOU SMILING AT. This happened one other time, in 2007 and 2008, when I got skinny after my divorce. I was pretty depressed, and sure, I wanted attention (I ALWAYS WANT ATTENTION HAVE YOU NOTICED MY…

Saturday-morning crepes and WTF second trimester

It’s been a sweet time with SJ, my provider of intercourse — still! What a champ! — since last May. A couple Sundays ago, I lay on my back on SJ’s bed (fully clothed — it’s not that kind of a transition) and pressed a stethoscope against my belly — and the baby kicked the stethoscope! SJ came…

Pesto scrambled eggs, Whitney Houston, and life with SJ

All week I’ve felt like crying. It feels exactly like the low-grade nausea I had during my first trimester, without the nausea. There’s no REASON for me to cry, and I DON’T cry, but I FEEL like crying. One afternoon I stood in the bathroom at work, just stood there in front of the full-length…

Linguine with clams and WTF PREGNANCY MARRIAGE MOVING

I am running on fumes. FUMES, I TELL YOU. In addition to having a full-time job, a part-time job, and a daily commute, this is what I’ve been doing instead of blogging about millennials, bonding with the heirloom tomato in my uterus, and getting my head around the fact that IN TWENTY-ONE WEEKS I WILL HAVE A SON….

Slutty brownie cups, hentai porn, and millennials are trying to kill me

So, I feel amazing. As I learned from a friend of Strong Jawline (my provider of intercourse for the last nine months), the second trimester is sometimes known as the “party-mester.” That’s mostly because of the pregnancy sex. But we’re still not living together, so Strong Jawline is not always available. So there’s internet porn. But I can’t watch…

Perfect cup of tea and pregnancy weight gain as a former bulimic/anorexic

When you’re pregnant, all the women who have gone before rally to tell you how their babies ripped apart their vaginas. One co-worker birthed an eight-pound baby whose head size was in the 99% percentile. Another’s daughter came out with her elbow crooked above her head, like a superhero shooting razors out of her tricep. All this coincides with…

Midnight snack in Chicago and one day with Rose and Dave

I arrive at O’Hare late Wednesday night after 10 hours of travel from San Francisco. Dad picks me up at baggage claim. His first topic of conversation, after greeting me, is everything he’s posted recently on Facebook. Dave: I sent SJ (SJ is my provider of intercourse for, lo, these past eight months) a message. (What Dad means…

Sweet potato salad and WTF Week 13

And just like that, I’m in the last week of my first trimester. No more nausea, no more exhaustion. And last week I got great news: The baby is at low risk for major chromosomal defects (which means the baby is at low risk for ABORTION — lucky baby!), and … it’s a boy! Some days I feel like I…

Honey rosemary walnuts and we need to talk about pregnancy sex

I dedicate this entry to my parents. The first time I heard about pregnancy sex was in 2004 when writer friend Michelle Richmond published an article on Salon.com called “Oh baby!: Why didn’t anyone tell me that pregnancy sex is amazing?” I’d never heard of it, mostly because in 2004 I was 28 years old,…

No-knead bread and WTF first trimester

Last Sunday, Strong Jawline and I Skyped my parents in Evanston, Illinois, to announce that he had successfully impregnated me. Rose and Dave, peering at the screen with their matching crowns of white hair and wire-rimmed glasses, were so surprised they erupted into applause. I’d wanted to add my brother and his wife to the conversation, but since Skype…