It's that time again! I know half of you are still walking off the hotdogs and beer you drank, and half of you are wondering why the internet went out to lunch without telling you, and the other half of you are thinking "this girl really sucks at math", but what better way to get back at 'er than with some random thoughts? I'll even be happy if they're about hotdogs and beer.
So you know what to do - grab that button, blurt out whatever's on your mind, and link up with Mr. Linky! Let's begin!
I know I said I'd never post about my uterus again, but this isn't a WHOLE post about it so it doesn't count. Anyway, my bloodwork came back and it "indicates that I am heading into early menopause". Oh. My doctor wants to do an ultrasound to rule out any other causes like (fun!) a cyst, because, as she told me repeatedly, "you're very young for this".
I think that's where the "early" part comes in, doc.
I'm trying not to let it get me down, I could still get pregnant. FoN told me that there's apparently a test they can do to see how many eggs I have left. At least...according to Grey's Anatomy, there is. I'm pretty sure that's sound medical advice, right there.
On a totally unrelated note, I bet this organic veggie-fruit juice that hubby bought for the detox/cleanse would taste REALLY good with vodka.
Why, why do people insist on sending me multiple faxes encouraging me to 'go green' with refillable toners & inks? Am I allowed to spam-fax them back telling them how many trees they just murdered in their 'green' ambition?
I didn't notice that we were out of formula until it was time to put my son to bed, and therefore too late to drag him to the store to buy more. So he got a bottle of (watered down) juice instead. Parenting FAIL. But hey, it was an organic veggie-fruit blend.
(There may or may not have been vodka in it).
Today the 'call-in' topic on the radio on my way home from work was "Do you have a problem with the man in a relationship making more than the woman?".
Um - seriously? I almost slammed on the brakes because clearly the DeLorean was approaching 88 miles an hour. This is still 2009, right?
Then I put my own head through the windshield and gouged my eyes out in anguish because some squeaky-voiced prepubescent girl phoned in to offer her sage opinion: "Um, I guess I'm old-fashioned but, um, I think it's like, okay if the girl makes some money but she shouldn't make as much as the man".
Fuck me. REALLY? Have fun slinging burgers for the rest of YOUR life, sweetie. Jeebus.
Although yesterday, the call-in topic was "Who do you think Archie will ask to marry him, Betty or Veronica?". Obviously I need a different radio station.
Or a strategically placed bomb.
You know how sometimes it's too soon to shave your pits again but they feel kind of furry so you want to, but you know if you do you'll get razor burn and they'll be itchy?
Yes, I have angst about shaving my armpits. Shut up.
Anyway, I chose the wrong path. Itchy.
Saw the new Star Trek on a date (!) with hubby last week. It was awesome. Why do all the best ones seem to involve time travel somehow?
Oh, no, wait. There was the one with the whales. Never mind.
And that's a wrap, people! Good job, sleep well, I'll most likely kill you in the morning!
Okay, I won't. I'd make a terrible Dread Pirate Roberts. But I'm an excellent host...so let's get this party started!
EDIT - Frikkin Frakkin grumble grumble RAAAWWWWWRRRRRRR FUCKING MR. LINKEEEEEEEE! So sorry, folks. Hopefully he comes back, but til then do what you resourceful others have been doing and leave your link in the comments.