Friends,
Apparently, I have no life outside of remodeling the bathroom and roaming the internet for amusement.
Seriously, are you checking out Threadbared?
No?
Because if you are, then you would know that you can make this out of pantyhose:
As if you wear pantyhose.
UPDATED: Go to Threadbared now, there is a busty, short-skirted LIFESIZE COMPANION DOLL made from pantyhose.
I’d like to direct your attention to Sara’s fabulous post on objectification.
CLICK HERE to read “Talking Points: An Object Lesson.”
Updated to add:
In order to further Sara’s fame, I bring you this small piece of her post:
A dear friend who is not an amputee and was raised to always be (or appear) nice and sweet, like any good, Midwestern Christian woman, hears me rant and can’t help but admonish me. “You have a choice, you know. People mean well. It’s up to you to accept their good intentions graciously.”
At this point, I begin to splutter.
As I tell my friend, it is not my job to make anyone feel warm and fuzzy about the surgical removal of my leg due to cancer.
And this one:
If you’re not blessing me but offering me practical help, accept my thanks, but also accept my “no, thanks” when that’s what I give you. Don’t make me say it more than once. Yes, I’m sure. I’m not stupid. I didn’t actually misplace my leg. It’s not lost, and it didn’t house my brain.
Now go read her post!
Dear reader who found my site whilst googling, “gross lunch meat,”
I do hope you weren’t actively looking for gross lunch meat. Because that’s pretty gross.
Allow me to remind you that anything simply titled “meat” is fairly suspicious.
“Here, let me serve you this meat!”
“What is this meat?”
“Lunch meat!”
“What IS this meat?”
“Meat for lunch, you know lunch meat.”
“Lunch meat?”
“Yes! That’s it, lunch meat!”
Here is the part where you drop said meat and slowly back away. But do back away from anything titled “meat” without a more specific description. Or things that smell like meat, but aren’t. Or guys whose boy parts smell of meat.
No one like salami balls. No one.
Sincerely,
Melissa
Thank you all for your sage advice and helpful comments for my last post. I’ll be sure to keep you abreast of how it goes.
In thanks, I present you with these, examples of the funniest commercials on earth.
CLICK HERE for “What Time Is It?
CLICK HERE for “Drop It Like It’s Hot.”
CLICK HERE for “Unpimp Your Auto.”
Oh, Shnap.
As much as I “worry” about having another baby, my sister-in-law is beginning in her infertility journey.
She’s only 22, in good health and a nurse. When she went in for a consultation with her OB about beginning to try to conceive, she was met with bad news. She may have a very hard time getting pregnant.
First, since her earliest periods she has had month-long heavy periods. Her first OB put her on birth control pills and told her she was fine. She was not fine. Since going off her pills to try to get pregnant, her horrible periods have come back. She changed OBs and this one is worried about a long case of endometriosis. Testing to come this week.
Second, her thyroid is causing problems. I don’t understand all the issues, but it has been another thing to solve before conceiving.
Third, she is already being sent to a fertility specialist. She feels it’s too soon to hit the fertility clinic; she’s only been considering getting pregnant since this past December. It makes her think her doctors are effectively putting a cap in an easy fertile path.
She and her husband are facing a lot of questions, a lot of doctors, and a growing desperation for an easy conception, pregnancy, and live birth.
I want to be there for her. But how?
I had two kids by 20. Our other sister-in-law had two at the same age I did and then in her thirties got pregnant the very week they started trying.
We are not walking the same road with her but we love her and want to be there for her.
Her own family believes that if they can’t get pregnant, then it’s God’s will. In her heart and as a medical professional, she doesn’t believe that but it’s very hard for her to even think that they may not be easily fertile.
I am open to all advice. I know some basic how-not-tos from reading several infertility blogs but I’m asking directly.
Especially by those of you who have dealt with infertility in any way, I am open to hearing how to not be an asshole, how to help, what to never say, and how to be a good friend and sister to her and her husband in this trying time. Help?
Here is the husband at work with his big ball machine, gazing adoringly at his nephew, Lake.
Ovaries.
Carry on.
Dear 8972438765983248273 readers who found my site whilst googling, msning, yahooing, askjeevesing, etc. anything related to that damn Ben Stein bit,
I am assuming this is not the affirmative response you were looking for, given the hopeful search terms that led you to a site called Sugared Harpy.
If you’re here for an uplifting, good Christian response, you are in the wrong place.
I think Stein just worked as the fluffer for right-wingnuts on that load o’ crap.
Good luck on your happy Bible war on Christmas righteous spanking search.
Sincerely,
Melissa
with a vagina picture.
The Art of Motherhood is updated, yes, with a vagina shot. Check it out.
I must stop killing myself with the not-sleeping. It makes me crabby. And a wee bit neurotic.
What do you do when you can’t sleep?
I’ve got Sugared Harpy’s Daily Lunchbox up and running. There is a new button under the masthead here titled, “Daily Lunchbox,” that you can click on each day to see what we’ve packed for lunch.
Or, lazy ass, you can just CLICK HERE.