I wrote a post a little over a week ago about my love for tar. My cravings haven’t subsided. The other day while watching Mythbusters, I noticed something very peculiar. A big part of the show takes place in a warehouse where they build contraptions for their many stunts. They recreate situations in order to bust or confirm a myth. They weld on the show, burn wood, mix chemicals, and spray anything and everything from a can. I salivated the entire time. For me it was like watching Top Chef only replace the kitchen with a warehouse and the food with hardware.
In typical Michele fashion, I began to freak out a bit about these weird cravings. That fear kicked in full force when I was at the gym signing up for a piece of equipment. Each member has to write his or her name on a white board using a dry erase marker. One might say I spent an uncomfortable amount of time with that marker before putting the cap back on. I feel the same way about Sharpies.
So I began looking things up on Google. Instead of trying to hide the weirdness, I figured it’d be best to talk about it. I looked up things like “Craving tar while pregnant” and “The smell of paint while pregnant.” I looked up things like “I am about to suck on a dry erase marker like one might a Popsicle.” I searched for “What is wrong with me?”
Of course I was relieved by what I read. Some women talked about spending more time in the broom closet at the office with the industrial cleaning supplies. Others talked about craving paint chips. Still others said they wanted to eat soap. One New Orleans woman told me that some of her female relatives used to eat Mississippi dirt from the side of the road. I read countless stories about pregnant women craving the weirdest of the weird. Suddenly, I felt better about my strange desires.
I learned this: it’s not uncommon to develop pica cravings during pregnancy. Experts aren’t exactly sure why they develop, some say it may be due to an iron deficiency or other chemical deficiencies, but I think us pregnant bitches are just weird. All that said, I think I’ll take a trip to I Hate Perfume in Williamsburg. They have a scent called Chemical. Awesome.
In other, more awesome news, check out this picture of Murray and me.