Saying yes...

This afternoon's dance-a-thon will be dedicated to Donna... RIP

 

 

HA!!!!

Mr. Indigo Bunting decided to come visiting with Mr. Big-Ass Rabbit... to snarfle up fallen food. Since Mr. I. Bunting had already done a fly-by, I had taken down the screen and had snagged YL's camera...

Also... ignore the weeds...

 

Thundra... I've got a shoe for you...

Busy week... nonexistent blogging...

Gone Unicorn Hunting... Updated

Local unicorn patrol says the chances of a unicorn sighting today are high. Repeat... likelihood is high.

Update: We were successful! Found one on loitering outside a hotel on Superior. He offered to take us to dinner, we then took him to the airport. Those unicorns get around.

Possible photos to follow...

Parts is Parts...

Stop reading if female parts scare you...

Laura's and fish's posts, as well as political discourse, has brought back memories... memories of being a young, single woman in the city... with a very dismal and unreliable paycheck. I believe I was working freelance jobs along with two part-time jobs... but still, paying for medical care was an issue, so I went to one of the Planned Parenthood-inspired places. It was not officially PP, but was basically the same deal. You paid for what you could, and most prices were reasonable.

Even though we were well into the latter half of the 80's, this place was right out of the 70's. Lots of ferns, lots of paneling, lots of Free to Be... You and Me stuff on the walls. I was fine with FTB...YAM, but did not necessarily want it every time I went for a check-up. It got even worse once I had to go a little more often. You see, you could not get your beloved birth control pills if your blood pressure was too high. I am notorious for having low blood pressure, but when in this place, with all of the questions, all of the doubtful looks, mine would shoot sky-high.

"We'll give you a month's worth of birth control pills, but you  must come back and prove you're BP is ok!"

Before these visits I would chant... think of dolphins, think of dolphins, think of dolphins...

But when they'd come in to check me out and would ask something that merited a smart-ass answer, with me giving it, and them taking me seriously, my BP would shoot sky high. I knew the drill... take the woman, who may or may not be abused, to a dark room... and let her think of dolphins for 10 minutes. Test again.

Most of the time I could chill, and the Rx was mine.

There was one time though that 3 women came into the room and suggested it was time to get to know my body.

Huh?? I was in my 20's! I knew my body?? What do you mean?? Know my body??

They produced a plastic speculum and a mirror... I kid you not. I scanned the ferns for hidden cameras...

They told me no women truly owns herself until she can examine herself... see the beauty of her cervix. I told them I was fine with a hidden cervix. My cervix was doing what it needed to do and I also trusted the professionals who checked it out...

They took this 'no' as an issue. I was like, "No, you don't get it... I was raised by a very down to earth mother who was nurse and called a spade a spade. Sure, my father might have been a little squeamish about the workings of daughterly parts, but Mom was fully on board with open discussion. I don't have issues... in fact, I'd like to use my parts with the man I love, the man who doesn't beat me, the man who accepts me as I am... while I myself am accepting me as I am... OK?? Take the Pap test and let me be on my way!"

But they insisted... which I felt was incredibly wrong, but hey... I was at peace with my parts, and as I mentioned, wanted to freely use my parts, so I did it. Woo-hoo! Look at my cervix! Woo-hoo! Yay! It looks like... a cervix... Can I go now???

They tried to give me a speculum to take home, but I think I shocked them when I said I preferred the flesh variety. Fortunately, soon after, I got insurance and was able to go to a Dr, who never once suggested I get in touch with my cervix... a Dr who seemed to understand that I was hip to my stuff... but relied on a professional to look up under my chassis.

(Heh... when I go to add a link to type up above, TypePad says, "Insert Link"... See?? These are the kind of thoughts that got me into trouble at the Women's place!)

When feelings and music mix... but shouldn't...

After BG's comment, I was thinking of posting a few more YouTubes of songs that reminded me of males from the past... whether males that I actually interacted with, or merely worshipped from afar... Yes, Vincent Van Patten and Willie Ames (Swiss Family Robinson Willie Aames, not Eight is Enough, thank you!)... you know I loved you both!  And then I realized, some were just horrendously embarassing! We can't always control what our brain anchors onto when Cupid zaps our heart! I'm talking about you, Barry Manilow!!! As Grizzled said when we were combining album collections...

G: Who in the hell has THREE Barry Manilow albums??

Me: HEY!!! I was once an 12 yr-old girl who grew up with Top 40 AM! He struck a chord... I couldn't help it!

G: OK, but that doesn't mean you have to keep them!

Me: But that would be like scrubbing my past, and I'm not going to do that. I will probably never listen to them again, but they do mark a point in time...

Yes, when going over my list, I was more embarrassed than not... but not too embarassed to share some... Go ahead, toss your judgmental daggers! I can take it. These were, and still are, associated with LUV!

 

 

 

 

Happy Easter

Bad judgment

During our recent road trip, I heard a song that will forever make me think of fun and alcohol poisoning... I know, I know, I should not say those two things together, but thank gawd for whatever it is that gets us through our stupid decisions in life...

Imagine if you will... an endless heatwave... going grocery shopping with your roommate/bestest friend... deciding at 9AM that margaritas sound REALLY GOOD... so you buy LARGE QUANTITIES of STUFF at the store, deciding not to eat when you get home, but go straight to the margaritas...

Hours and hours later, after a person or two has left the party, and the margaritas became anything you and your roommate could mix with tequila, if mixing was really even necessary... and after the dancing around and on the table while wearing your roommate's red sheet; dancing to the song below, you decide you probably need a nap, but the man you've been seeing (and will eventually marry) has shown up, decides maybe you need dinner and prepares you food... and stays with you throughout the night, which is a good thing, because you wake up in the wee hours feeling sun burnt and insane... and he gets you water and helps you to the bathroom, and does all sorts of responsible things... while your crazy roommate somehow finds it within himself to actually go out on a first date!!!

That is what this song makes me think of... and when I hear it, I still smile... and thank my lucky stars...

 

I lahve this movie... and now I can watch it in under 3 minutes...