Weed Control

So here's a topic I don't think I've discussed recently - pubes. Eew, that word is so gross. But really, it's just hair that we're talking about here, really curly, coarse hair. I hate pubic hair. It's just one more thing I have to manage. And I don't know about everybody else but mine is difficult to manage. I've tried various methods - razor, wax, pruning shears - but I swear it's like a weed patch down there. Too bad they don't make some Round-Up for that area. I'm seriously considering some sort of lazer removal. Just fry the damn hair 'til it quits growing back! And WTF is up with all these hairless women I keep hearing about? How do they keep it neat and tidy? How much upkeep is involved with that? Seriously, I don't have that much time to spend on that particular area.

always look at the bright side of life...

Here's three things I like about winter:

1. I don't have to shave my legs very often.
2. I don't have to paint my toenails AND I don't care what shape their in.
3. I don't have to shave (or wax) my bikini area.

In other words, I get to be more slovenly than usual.

my own advice

So I've decided that I'm going to try really hard to NOT nag at my drunk-ass husband. I'm tired of trying to be his mother. So there.

Cover that ass up

Have I blogged about cellulite already? I'm too lazy to go check, so if I did then too bad - I'm doing it again. I was watching Rachel Ray once (literally, one time) and one of the little segments was about cellulite. She had a doctor on who does some goofy treatments and I think wrote a book or something and he said that a couple things you can do to decrease cellulite is to wear panties that don't cling to your butt, thongs, or just go commando. What the hell? Who is this guy? I think it's a conspiracy, possibly concocted by my husband to get me to wear thongs. So of course I fell for it and have been in a panic about how my underwear clings to my butt and is therefore producing cottage cheese on my thighs. I went out and bought various types of non-clinging panties only to find that if they don't have elastic around the bottom they're going to be riding up mine (bottom that is). And I have tried thongs, several times, mostly to please my spouse (see what a good wifey I try to be...occasionally...okay, only for special occasions like holidays and birthdays and such), but I can't get over the feeling that everytime I sit down I have a major tight wedgie that is dying to be picked out. Plus, I don't think my ass is in any way attractive in a thong. It's all just hanging out back there - a big pale moon. And let's just say that my skin complexion isn't exactly clear either, and when I walk all I can think of is the residual ass-jiggle that seems magnified by the fact that it is not confined by fabric and elastic. How is that possibly sexy? As for that last option of going commando I've only got one word to say - pubes. Zippers and short-n-curlies do not belong near each other, not to mention the just general ickiness that goes on "down there." So, I guess I'll just be unattractive in my cotton bikini briefs, complete with panty lines and cellulite.

Men, can't live with 'em, can't...well...that pretty much sums it up.

My previous blog cut me off! I don't know what the hell I hit on the keyboard but it posted before I was done, and before I had time to title it! Apparently the powers that be had had enough of my bitter bitchiness. Anyways, I just spent the day putting up Chrismas decorations and grouching about the shit constantly laying around the house, in case you're wondering about the Hillary Clinton-ness male bashing atmosphere suddenly clogging up my blog. And I know that she doesn't really do any male-bashing (in public), so all you Hil's supporters can pull your panties out your asses and sit comfortably.

ps. does anybody know how to edit a blog once it's posted?

I really need to study up on the bible. Maybe it will explain why women seem to have gotten the short end of the stick. I mean, I know about the original sin, blah blah blah, but wasn't Adam at fault just as much as Eve? I mean, I think we all know that he kind of talked her into it (c'mon ladies, think about your first time. I bet it wasn't exactly YOUR idea.). So why is that we're the lucky ones that have the crazy hormonal reproductive systems? Biology of course has a reason for everything, or at least those people at the Discovery Health channel seem to know what they're talking about. I mean, males are in charge of the hunting and gathering, so it doesn't make sense for them to be caring for and nurturing the young. It would really stink to come up against a dinosaur and be 7 months pregnant. And I know that there are reasons why we have those wacky hormones, but doesn't it seem like men got the better end of the deal? They have what, testosterone, which makes them horny all the time (not a bad thing), and it increases their metabolism (and muscle mass) so that they can eat a ton more, not need to exercise very much, and not gain weight. They're not really fighting dinosaurs anymore (and if they are it's something they chose to do, plus women are now fighting alongside them), so it's not like they have that whole "I'll do the dangerous stuff so the little lady doesn't have to" going for them. And they don't have all that nurturing crap floating around their brains 24/7 like women do. They only think of one thing (sex) at a time. I can't even imagine what that would be like, well, I'll try. Picture this: (whistle the tune from "The Andy Rooney Show")
Wake up in the morning and think "must shower and dress for work" without thinking about what undergarments need to be worn with that particular blouse and if you have any clean pantyhose.
Go to work, do your job
Come home, think (or say if your wife isn't homicidal) "what's for dinner?"
Change, maybe play with kids for a few minutes, eat dinner
put kids to bed, watch TV
go to bed without a care in the world
Even before I had kids I had constant "to-do" lists running in my head, now with two kids I sometimes wonder how my brain doesn't physically explode and run out my ears. And I can't turn it off! I think that's the thing that I most jealous about in regards to men - the fact that their minds are so blessedly empty of all that clutter.
My husband and I once had a conversation about a similar topic while I was pregnant with my second child - I asked him if he was jealous in any way of the fact that I was the one that got to experience pregnancy - his answer of course being a whopping "NO!" I think most men would answer the same way. I could ask TGD if there was anything about being a woman that he was jealous of but I already know his answer - boobs. It almost makes me want to play with mine more as a big "F You!" to manhood.

Beer good

I've recently re-discovered the joys of getting drunk. Okay, not fall down on my butt, "talking on the big white phone" drunk, more of a giggly, "everything is great" drunk. Maybe tipsy is a better word, but it's a dumb girly word and I don't want to use it. I haven't been a "drinker" in a long time, what with all the baby making and being the DD for my husband (who likes his beer). Plus I sort of overdid it my freshman year of college - you know, that first semester away from the 'rents, going crazy drinking the nasty mixes only college kids will drink, whoreshly locking lips with many college guys (maybe that was only me but I'm sure there's some other kissing sluts out there). Anyways, it's taken me a long long time to not shudder at the thought of alcohol (hence the current enjoyment of such beverages). However, I have noticed that I get the embarassing "second thoughts" the day after having a couple drinks. You know, the "crap, was everything I said hysterically funny or was I just being loud and obnoxious?!" In my befuddled alcoholic haze I think I'm pretty witty and tend to get the giggles, and I'm pretty sure my speaking voice goes up a few decibels (for some reason when I drink I think people can't hear me very well so I tend to shout like I'm talking to my Grandpa), but I'm drunk so everything is great. It's only the next day (sober and usually not hungover) that I think "shit, I was a total asshat." But I guess that's part of the fun of having a few drinks - I can act like a dork and chalk it up to being drunk, a perfectly reasonable excuse for poor behavior.