When Eggs Go Bad...

Commence Ovulation Testing in 5...4...3...2...

I'm following the Sperm Meets Egg plan this month. I can highly recommend it even now, as it involves peeing on sticks from early on. They're the OPK variety, but, hey, stick wizzing is stick wizzing, ya know? It feeds the addiction.

Actually, that said, I haven't wee'd on a stick for some time now. There was one month when I was 2 days late and I did a test, astounded that it was negative, but mainly I've been steering clear. It's a vast improvement for me, since last year I had been doing the stick wizz 4 days before my period was due, and not even with one of the super-sensitive types of test.

Anyway, I digress. the point of my post is that tonight some serious lovin' starts in the Badeggs household. I've bought the Robitussin, the digital OPKs are at the ready (love those smiley faces) and the lingerie drawer is on standby. And, well, I just thought you should know.

Not Knocked Joke

The sore boobs? A sure sign of pregnancy, right? Only not so much for Lola. Because, having visited recurrent miscarriage on us, God now thinks it's funny for us not to be able to conceive at all.

My stupid period not only started, it started 3 full days early and right as I was about to rush into an important meeting. Yes, having been like clockwork previously, I now vary between 25 and 31 days and I have no flipping idea when I'm ovulating because apparently I no longer produce any sort of cervical fluid at all. Because THAT, dear reader, is God's idea of a really funny joke. THAT is God pissing on me from a great height and laughing as I sputter in the divine wizz.

And you know what? It's so not funny anymore. I put up with the grief, the loss of innocence, the hopelessness and despair, and the deep lonliness that resulted from being comprehensively disabused of the notion of a loving, all-powerful God with which I'd grown up. Right up to miscarriage no. 3, I believed everything my mother and the church had fed to me about the kinder, gentler God of the New Testament, only to find out that the Jews pretty much had God cracked several millenia ago. He's vengeful, jealous and really only inclined to help when it suits him. Oh, and he's also a little cranky, apparently. And I put up with all of that. Kept smiling as best I could through the tears and told everyone I was doing fine, because that's what they wanted to hear. I did this because I thought eventually I'd come out the other side into the sunlight.

People... where the FUCKING BOLLOCKS PISSWITS IS MY SUNSHINE?!!!!!!!!

Hear me now, God, or Universe or whatever you are. I am going to get pregnant next cycle, d'you hear? And furthermore, I am going to keep it and you can just kiss my lily white ASS if you think otherwise. You have had your fun and I've been patient, but we're done now. Seriously.

Send Reinforcements...and Cake

Ack!! (as Bill the Cat used to say...that dates me)

This job is not kidding. You know how there are some jobs where you really can do everything you're supposed to do and still haev time to check your personal e-mail, write that letter of complaint to teh insirance company AND post an entry to you blog. Uh huh. Not so much for Lola. This job is dead serious, takes no prisoners and wants to kick my ass.

Don't get me wrong: I am still totally pumped about my new role. I feel like I've already made a positive difference to my staff (who were all severely demoralised after a reorganisation) and I'm full steam ahead on a couple of projects that I think will actually improve efficiency, not just be busy work that pisses everyone off. I hit the ground running and haven't stopped since.

But DEAR GOD am I tired! And I am also feeling rather guilty about neglecting the Badeggs Bitchfest that is When Eggs Go Bad. Even though by February I was starting to feel paranoid since I seemed to have gone from an average of 9 or 10 comments to 3 or 4 for each post, I still feel guilty about virtually abandoning the hard core of Lola-teers who actually seem to care about me enough to come back and read my latest attempt at humour. I have good intentions about blogging at the weekend or in the evenings, but I'm finding that the flesh is weak, even when the spirit is game for a laugh.

Please, my lovely readers, don't desert Lola yet. I will get my act together. As a teaser, I can reveal to you that my boobs are REALLY sore this month, much more so than usual. So I'm wondering if Mr Badeggs has finally done his manly duty in my uty [I'm sorry, that was totally uncalled for and it won't happen again - ed.]. I know I said I wouldn't be telling, but that was several months ago, and right now I'm feeling like I want the support network if it is, indeed, Prelude to a Miscarriage: Part IV. So watch this space.

Highlights and Lowlights

I was having such a good month or so. I really had felt very positive and strong and what not, and during my North African sojourn had managed not to think about miscarriage at all for like 3 days. That's a record for me.

Then yesterday I went to the hairdresser for highlights and a woman came in pushing a very big buggy (stroller) with a very tiny occupant. Yes, that's right, just when I'm feeling OK, God decides to fuck with me and I have to come face to face with a newborn.

Worse than that, Beatific Mommy sits down and promptly starts breastfeeding. Oh yeah. Bring it on. I can take it.

I walked away and spent the next 10 minutes standing awkwardly in the way (the waiting area in the salon I go to is miniscule, so I had to kind of wedge myself in by the door, making customers wonder whether I was some crazed, weeping greeter or something) and finally got seated in the chair just in time to have Beatific Mommy wander over with infant in tow, to talk to the lady sitting next to me. As the assistant brought over my cup of tea, she was confronted by a madwoman with two streams of mascara running down her cheeks, choking out something that may or may not have sounded like "I need to spend 5 minutes in your loo. Wahhhh!!!" [Loo = restroom, yankee doodles...].

Georgia, my hairdresser, knows all about my losses and had two consecutive miscarriages herself before having her first son (she now has three kids, ladies, so there may well be hope for us yet...). When I reappeared in the chair, she patted my shoulder and let me talk a bit. Thank God for women who have been there, done that: they know just what to do and say.

Anyway, it was a sufficiently upsetting experience to have urged me on to write the introduction to my book. I'm still waiting on a lot of contributions, but at least I've had a go at telling my own story and explaining why I'm writing the book. So I guess something good came out of the Day of the Evil Newborn. But I still wish God would go torture someone else...

Usurpers

My God. It would seem I have come back in the nick of time. One more day away and Mr Badeggs would have usurped my throne. Honestly, you think you can trust your spouse. But no, as soon as my back is turned, there he is being all funny and charming and what not. It really is hell being married to someone so intelligent and witty. Pity me, friends. Pity. Me.

So, yes, it is true. There was a certain amount of playing during my business trip to deepest, darkest North Africa. (I think I can be honest about where I was: Mr B's references to camels, henna and the 'Dark Continent' pretty much gives it away.) In my defense, it truly was a big strategic business conference sort of thing. I can't help it if the Directors, in their infinite wisdom, decided that some heavy duty team building activity was in order and that it should take the form, at least in part, of mountain biking, offroading and camel riding. In my defense, as the 'new kid on the block', I pretty much had to participate enthusiastically. Am I right? And if that extended to watching some extremely fetching Bedouins doing horse tricks, well, I am here but to serve.

The problem with North Africa is that there is a lot of lamb to eat. I mean A LOT. I'm practically baaaa'ing. Another problem is that I pretty much cleaned out my bank account buying beautiful, exotic things that will probably look sad and silly in my house but spoke eloquently to me while in the Aladdin's cave that is the Souk (if you click on the link, you'll see an actual photo of where I was! But that's not me there...). The good thing is that what with the heavy duty work and even heavier duty socialising with colleagues, I didn't once think about miscarriage. It was a vacation in more ways than one.

I've come back to the realisation that this job is going to be HARD but endlessly fulfilling. I'm already loving it. I've also come back to a jillion new e-mails from people who are interested in being in the book I'm writing, so I really do need to knuckle down and start sifting through the contributions and, oh, I don't know, maybe actually write the damn proposal. Feel free to offer virtual ass kickings.

It's good to be back, ladies and germs, really good. While I'm finding my feet at work, I may be posting slightly less frequently than I normally do, but I'll try not to leave it for 3 weeks like this time. And I'll try to keep Mr Badeggs away from the throne while still letting him come out to play now and then...

They can breed you know...

Normal service will be resuming soon, as Lola is on her way back as I type this, so I hope y'all enjoyed our time together.

I was going to blog about this (and do go take a look) but the more I thought about the concept, the more it started to completely gross me out - after I had thought about how politicians could be used to increase the output (got you now haven't I... go on take a look - but don't say I didn't warn you OK).

But instead a few well chosen words on... this particular specimen of humanity

Let's see now:

1) No control of vehicle
2) Because she is applying make-up
3) And hang on - she is ALREADY BANNED FROM DRIVING
4) For being drunk at the wheel
5) Two weeks ago

And that is apparently is.... wait for it, wait for it...

Careless Driving.

What the F---?!

Careless Driving is like when you miss a stop sign or fail to look both ways before pulling out of a junction and have a near miss or something. It's wrong, but it is a genuine moment where there has been a lapse in concentration. We've all been there - hopefully not very often but...
Carefully applying make-up is clearly not a lapse in concentration, neither does one accidentally forget that y'know, one is BANNED FROM DRIVING (which means no insurance, which means that if the silly b%^ch had mown someone down, then all sorts of fun and games would ensue).

And the penalty for such a complete and total disregard of the law, and indeed the previous punishment handed down for being drunk at the wheel - £200 and 6 points on the license (when she gets it back). Hands up who thinks she won't just get straight back in the car and carry on anyway like she already has.

It makes me mad that this person can just carry on in her own sweet way, and even when she gets caught TWICE, is still able to carry on as if nothing has happened. Is she a danger to all around her?  Has she demonstrated that she cannot be trusted to behave responsible in a lethal vehicle? Only twice.  Am I the only one who things that her ass should be thrown in jail for a month or two followed by a 10 year ban from driving and serious jail time if she is caught driving whilst banned?

I had a damn good friend who was killed by an idiot such as her. He hit a van that stalled across the middle of a two lane highway. The van had not got 1st gear (broken) so the driver was trying to drive it using 2nd 3rd and 4th  - not good. It had been like that for some time. Turns out that my friends life was worth £400 and 6 points on the license (you need 12 to get a ban - so another person can be killed before they think you might need some time off the road).

Four Hundred Quid. Not much for a life is it. And then I think about this blog, and all the other blogs and the community out there that knows exactly how much a life is worth and I start to feel rage that these people can just walk through life without thinking about the effect that their actions may have on others, and even when they are caught, nobody can be bothered to point out the seriousness of what they have done.

£400. Makes you think doesn't it.

Sometimes it's hard to be a woman

Sooo, the sun settles down behind the mountains, and day turns to night over the bustling town of M******** in the Dark Continent. Calls to prayer issue forth from the Minarets and after a hard days work, Mrs BadEggs makes contact with BadEggs basecamp in dear old damp Blighty, with an update on the "work" that has been undertaken today.

Mrs B "Hi, it's me, how are the two of you?"

Mr B "Yup We're OK, just got in the door, and gotta cook dinner and stuff, How did it go today?"

Mrs B "Oh it was really good. I have a Henna tattoo on my ankle and it's really cool"
(work? eh? oh well...)

Mrs B "And I rode a camel and did some mountain biking and went offroading on the ATVs"
(WORK?!!!!???)

Mr B "You went mountain biking and rode a Camel?"

Mrs B "Yup - it was really cool"

Now dear readers, If there's one thing that Mrs Badeggs does not do, it's mountain biking. Likewise, I and the Badeggs daughter had discussed the possibility of Camel riding and had come to the conclusion that this, also, was not going to feature highly on any Mrs Badeggs wish list. Clearly we were wrong. And clearly the definition of "Work" is possibly being stretched  - just a teensy bit.

Mr B "I thought this was a big strategy get together thingy?"

Mrs B "Yeah that was in the morning. Then in the afternoon we do team building exercises"

Mr B "Riding Camels"

Mrs B "Yup. Anyway I need to get ready for tonite, we are off out for a meal, apparently it's out in the desert somewhere in a Bedouin tent"

Mr B "Oh, Ok, sounds fun"
(looks over at the basic constituents of the Badeggs basecamp dinner, which still has to be cooked, then casts eye to stuff that needs to be removed from the dishwasher, and the stuff that needs to go in afterwards, makes mental note to ensure homework gets done, listens to the sound of the rain lashing down outside...)

Mrs B "Anyway, gotta go, miss you both, see you very soon, love you"

Mr B "Miss you too & love you too, speak to you tomorrow"

Bless. Wish I could get some some of that there work...

Tonite! for one night only...... It's Mr BadEggs

Thankyou thankyou thankyou hope you enjoy the show and don't forget to tip your waitresses, Oh and do try the Veal (after all, a small animal was prevented from moving and pumped full of drugs so you could enjoy that oh so succulent flesh... hmmm flesh).

Sorry, yes where was I? Ah Ha! Hello, Mr BadEggs here stepping in for the Mrs as she is currently someplace exotic for "work". She says hi and would like you all to know that normal service will be resumed very shortly (and If I tank horribly - possibly even sooner).

In the meantime Here is a quick heads-up on "stuff from over here that you should watch if it ever makes it over there" (You gave us Battlestar Galactica and the Daily Show* so the least I can do is point out what could be arriving soon to a cable channel near you).

By the way, this will be a period drama free zone.

Ok up first is... Dr Who
Yes, the beloved crappy sci-fi show of my youth (traditional viewing spot - behind the sofa) is coming to the Sci-fi channel on March 17th at 9pm EST. Now put away any traditional anti geek/nerd show tendencies and give it a whirl. For there will be witty dialogue, there will be two really good actors in the lead character roles, there will be a huge mix of stories and a truly brilliant season finale (Mrs BadEggs cried and so did her daughter - Mr Bad Eggs last cried [well aside from youknowwhat] when England Lost to Germany in the 1990 world cup football semifinals - but it was close OK). This show was brought back from the dead after 15 years off air. They thought it would do OK. The truth is that it slaughtered every other TV show on at the same time and revived the long lost concept of family viewing on a Saturday night. The best show on British TV last year. Take a gamble, set yer tivo and give it a whirl. And ladies - You'll like Captain Jack...

And then there's Planet Earth  by the BBC. It's a Discovery Channel Co production, so I reckon you'll all be seeing it in the not too distant future. First programme was last night, and this one is definitely a big TV kinda experience. If any of you are lucky enough to have Hi-Def TV, then you should definitely watch. This is not your usual glossy wildlife footage. Highlights so far:

• A great white shark takes out a seal in open water with extreme prejudice. Just to make sure you don't miss a thing, the footage is slowed down 40 times. This is a jaw-dropper of a sequence.
• As is the aerial shot of the wolves hunting down a Caribou in northern Canada
• The bit with the baby Elephant...

Utterly superb.

And finally...
The early candidate for best British show of 2006 is Life on Mars
Now this may not make it across the pond any time soon, but there are ways... (yknow -internet methods ahem cough cough) and perhaps BBC America will be in the mood to show it. This is your basic fish-out-of-water show wherein a modern day UK copper** (police officer) is hit by a car and, due to the fact that he is listening to David Bowie at the time, transported back to 1973. Happens all the time. Of course, he may not actually be back in 1973, but then again... Anyway, seeing as he is a copper, it'll be crimes to solve, villains to nick and much revisiting of what good old Blighty was like back in 1973.

It is of course, a work of complete genius. If you are of a certain age, then the soundtrack (Bowie,Bolan,Zeppelin etc) will bring a smile to your face. The dialogue is gloriously, completely Un-PC, and the attention to detail is very good indeed. Now for us Brits, this has been a great chance to look back and think "Oh my God - is that what it was like?". Unless any of you actually experienced the UK in the early 70's it's going to be like nothing you have ever seen before. Proper coppers, proper villains, proper cop show. Only problem is, there's no more until next year.

Enjoy...

*I Googled "Battlestar Galactica and the Daily Show" - only 27 other folks have made this particular combination of shows publicly known. Not sure whether this is a good thing or not.
**also known as Plod, the Fuzz, or the Rozzers. No, I have no idea why either.