When Queen Victoria, in 1850something, chose to use ether during the birth of her EIGTH child, the nation was thrown into chaos and pandemonium. The House of Lords entered into the public discourse as to whether or not it was acceptable spiritually or medically for a woman to recieve medication for the alleviation of pain during childbirth.

The House of Lords was apparently onto something, not that it was any of their business, because the debate is still raging. Hospital vs. home, natural vs. drugged, breast vs. bottle, attachment vs. spock, family bed vs. crib, work vs. stay at home, baby yoga vs. baby pilates, shake vs. never never never shake...

All of these bloody and vicious battles have been going on for decades, and in some cases, centuries, happily unbeknownst to me. Now suddenly I'm supposed to have a fully thought out opinion, ready to be interrogated by friends, neighbors, the cashier at the grocery store. I'll have to be able to defend my position at a moments notice. And in the meantime, I'm boring poor Lazlo to death, because he wants to talk about other things besides the pros and cons of Midwifery.

Judging from the books, book reviews, and websites I've read recently, not to mention the people I've talked to, having a baby makes you, and the people around you, into fanatical zealots. Maybe it's just the people who were always going to be vocal anyway, or maybe there will come a day when Lazlo and I will accost innocent partygoers at social events and talk to them about the evils of medical establishment childbirth: "Don't you know? The baby loses up to one IQ POINT with the use of drugs!"

I agree- Milagro needs all the spare IQ he can lay his partially formed fingers nubs on- but right then I really just wanted to finish my cheesecake in peace.

I don't know where I'm going with this. It's just overwhelming to be suddenly swamped, not only by the -fact- of being pregnant and the inevitability of giving birth, but also this huge seething subculture of -really- opinionated people. People who have devoted blood, sweat and tears to the cloth vs. disposable diapers fight. How bizarre.

What do you folks think about all this?

I understand that in general, it's not a good idea to allow financial matters to be decided based solely on emotions, but Lazlo and I finally cracked, and decided to spend our last $12 seeing a matinee showing of Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow. Worth every penny. It's a good thing I found that $5 in my bag, though, or we would still be held hostage in the parking garage.

We were driven to our "go out with a bang" mentality by months of scrimping and self-denial, only to realize that the situation is beyond hope (until I get a job) and so there's really no point in pathetic cost-saving measures. We might as well have bought popcorn.

Next month, we're counting on Sally Mae and Co. to fund our rock and roll lifestyle with student loans, and sometime in the future, some clueless loser will accidentally succumb to my overwhelming attributes and give me a freaking job.

During this never ending search for a job I've become cynical and jaded. When I send resume after resume into the gaping email void, I'm tempted to press delete myself, and shorten the process. I don't understand who gets the jobs I apply for. One job description I read yesterday paid $9/hr for 10 hr/wk (on call) and required an English MA. That kind of thing makes me want to kill someone.

As an added bonus, pregnancy hormones are making my hair and finger nails grow at a truly alarming rate, and my once hip and chic haircut has become femme-mulletish. Since -supposedly- hair dye "poisons" the fetus, my hair has been un-dyed for the longest period since high school. I feel East Texas frumpish and I walk like a drunken sailor lurching around at sea, thanks to the recently sprained ankle. This, along with the frequent pauses to throw-up in flower beds, is not helping the job search.

In short, I'm a trashy, nauseated, cripple, and I need a job. If you have one, give it to me.

I guess you could call it post-Quayle hypercorrection.

Now, I'm no cynic, but I have to wonder what happened to spawn this Craigslist ad.