Love...

I bet you think this is going to be a sappy blog, estolling the virtues of an amazing boyfriend...

My first thought is, what virtues???  I kid!  I kid!

No, seriously.  The remainder of this blog will be about a web page that was forwarded to me that I, of course, just had to share.

(If things of the female nature scare or embarrass you, I'd just stopping your reading now...)

What is this web page that I just HAD to write about?

Love Your Vagina.

I kid you not.  Love Your Vagina.  Go check it out.  You can read about a mooncup and using this contraption to care for your... wait a minute.  What do YOU call it?  Well, have no fear.  If you have yet to figure out what name works for you, check out this link.  You call yours WHAT?!  If there is one page you go visit as a result of this blog, let it be that one.  Be prepared to be shocked, amused and otherwise horrified.

I'd list out a few of my faves, but that would take a while.  Too many of them are just tooooo funny!  Love love love it!

So ladies (and gentlemen... and more ladies if that's your preference...), go love on that nifty powerful little being that runs the world... or is the root of all evil... whatever your preference...

Opposites Attract?!

I've never been a particularly firm believer in this concept of opposites attract.  I'm fairly in line with, there are some similarities and some differences.  I look to my parents as a fairly solid example of mostly opposites attracting though, which makes it even odder that I'm not a particularly firm believer.

My dad's pretty easy-going about... well... everything.  Mom's very high stress and go, go, goes!  (Remind you of anyone???  Not me...)  Dad's republican, mom's dem.  They practice different types of law (but hey now!  Both lawyers!) and really not interested in the same types of movies and the like.  Dad loves sushi and Chinese food, mom can't stand the former and puts up with the latter.  Mom likes to be social when she can, dad just doesn't care (unless mom makes him care of course! ;))  The list goes on.

Similarities include: a love of football, generally the same likes in music, both practice law as independent contractors and both like to have a few drinks out at dinner to relax.  Just to name a short few.

I always figured I'd date on my next round a geeky guy who likes to read and has a degree in some type of humanities.  Someone who every so often likes to go out and do things and so on and so forth.  No, no, this is not the vision of the perfect man or any of that, just what I figured was coming next.

Well, this morning reiterated that that particular vision was WRONG.

I'm dating an auditor.  Please, tell me every stick up the ass joke you can find, because I looooooooooooove hearing those.  And then sharing them.  And how they sound awfully familiar... P.s. one of our similarities is that we're both jerks, so don't get the idea in your head that he's dumping me over this, if anything, I've made him wet his pants in glee.

He's helping his family out with their taxes.

Direct quote, "I'm rocking out donations."

As I sit here reading two books for my thesis, Unbearable Weight and Freakery, one about bodies and the other about disabilities.

Does anybody else see the slight differences we have going on here?  Rocking out NUMBERS???  GROSS!!!


But hey now, to each their own.  Who am I to say that numbers are gross?  Ok, I'm totally the girl to say numbers are gross, so I'm just going to leave him to rocking out the digits while I go do something normal.

The Second Coming

As we now all know, I'm a nun.  Not by choice per se, but I am.  So good little me is doing everything as she's supposed to.  Did I mention I'm no longer a Sunday School teacher?  I'll let you stew on whether I quit or got kicked out...

But these last few days have been distressing.  I've been rather weepy, rather hungry, and rather headachy.  Yet, there's been no viable reason showing up for these rather conspicuous signs of female funness.

Since this was Easter weekend and all, my biggest concern was...

I was the carrier of the second coming of Christ.  I may not be Virgin Morgan, but hey now, nun status is close enough.

Rest assured, I am not.

Especially since I'm about to go to Hell for saying this...

I totally think Mary and Joseph did the hanky panky and the pull-out method just didn't work.

And with that... I'm out.

I Am A NUN!

I'll get to the reason why soon enough... well, the semi reason why.  Come on now people, I don't go THAT far into my personal life.  Or do I???

So today I go to look at a condo to rent from the boy toy's rents.  Ok, fiiiiiiiine, a little more respect.  The boyfriend's parents.  It's in Maryland, which I want.  It's near a mall, which is dangerous.  It's near all of my assorted boys (you heard me), which is fantastic.  And it's got hardwood floors, which is just too cool.

After he gets us lost a few times while trying to show me around the building itself (gym, pool, tennis courts, personal parking spot)... we head to the condo itself.  He opens the door.  Did I mention his grandmother currently lives there?  Yes, she's getting booted.  To the street.  I kid, I kid.  But still.  Door opens and it was a very distinct smell.  I just don't understand how all old people smell alike.  She's not in a home yet, she shouldn't smell yet.  It's like... does a certain age hit and BOOM, you reek?  She's well taken care of, has a beautiful place, so it's clearly not her amazing family being lax in caring for her.  So it's clearly an OLD thing.

So M and I are standing on the balcony (I kid you not, start with the m&m jokes now, I'm prepared) and we see these two adults/young adults playing football on the tennis courts and they weren't doing so hot, so of course we were talking smack.  Like we could do any better.  Yah, I've done well.  Then we discussed the velocity of different aged cupcakes if dropped off the balcony.  I never said we were normal...

So then I got dumped for taxes.  I'd love to say I got dumped for family time or something else normal, but no, I got dumped for taxes. Clearly, I'm not a thrilling date.  So I met a friend I met online, Mary.  Awesome, awesome, awesome girl.  I had the time of my life.  We have SO much in common.

Namely, we're nuns.  Well, modified nuns.  Our respective boy toy's are well aware of this and are even complicit in this happenstance.  We swear, but otherwise, we are the BESTEST lil girls anybody ever did see.  Wow, y'all didn't have to go and faint on me.  That really is kind of rude.  Could you please show a little more respect to a woman of the cloth???  Or a version of that...  I figured on this Easter Sunday, it was appropriate to make this correlation and to meet this new friend on this day was a sign.  Nuns who are not trying to be nuns must band together and stand tall.  Our nun-i-ness makes us special and unique and... oh who am I kidding?  We all know the truth.

Other than the fact we were called nuns... for various and assorted reasons... I'll let you think on that...

More... HAIR

And holy crap, it's been years since I last wrote.  Talk about being a delinquent.  I've withheld my brilliance from you for so long.  Please accept my sincerest apologies for such a lapse.

But!  Onto making you laugh this Easter Sunday.  And for those of you who celebrate otherwise, Happy Passover or simply, Happy Sunday!  Yes, I'm a dork.  Get over it.

First of all, did the hair ever get fixed?  Am I still orange and ugly?  Only one way to find out...

That's how I now walk around.  Everyday.  All day.  Really...

Ok, or not...

And that is what I call normal.  Isn't it amazing how I can be transformed???

Now if I could just go from jerky to nice... we'd all be in a better place.