No, really, I don't want a shot....I'm pregnant

We went to a party last night in an effort to shake off some of the self-imposed isolation we've been feeling. Being exhausted all the time can incredibly...exhausting, and I've started to think that I just am not worthy, or worthwhile, enough to be around other people. After all, who really wants to be dragged down into my hormonal induced pregnancy funk with me?

The party was fun. Well, mostly fun. Because once again M. and I found ourselves being the token lesbians in a SEA of gay men. And you know what...gay men don't talk to women, and they do a lot of dick talk. M. and I have decided they shouldn't be allowed to be gathered in large groups...like TWO or more.

Instead of being the wall-flower lesbians, M. and I decided to drag the boys into our little world and we started harassing people until they talked to us. This resulted in us being harassed to do shots over and over again, until I had to blurt out...

I'M PREGNANT.

He he.

First the boys were VERY confused. You could see the logistics of a PREGNANT lesbian going through the channels of their alcohol riddled brains. A PREGNANT lesbian...how does THAT work? One informed M. that she had some explaining to do about my current condition.

In the end we had a great time. All of the sudden we were the celebrity pregnant lesbians, and our fabulous neighbors showed up to entertain us for the rest of the evening.

And I got to feel a little more human for a few hours.