***IF YOU ARE PARTICULARLY CONSERVATIVE, YOU SHOULD PROBABLY SKIP THIS POST.***
***IF YOU ARE MY MOTHER-IN-LAW, YOU SHOULD DEFINITELY NOT READ THIS. JUST TRUST ME ON THIS ONE.***
***I APOLOGIZE TO MY FUTURE GRANDCHILDREN FOR THIS POST.***
1. I love watching Ru Paul's Drag Race. It's a big dose of happy for me. It's also a guilty pleasure because my husband absolutely hates the show. I know this because I tricked him into watching it one day. After 10 minutes of glancing over at me with murder in his eyes, he left the room in disgust. I don't know what his problem is. I happen to think the phrase "You've got she-mail!" is genius.
2. Oops. I just Googled "You've got she-mail" to see if it's spelled S-H-E-M-A-I-L or S-H-E-M-A-L-E. Then I decided to add a picture from Ru Paul's Drag Race. So I went back to Google and clicked on Images. But I forgot that the last thing I'd Googled was "shemale".
Don't make the same mistake I did, people.
(I am too traumatized to add a photo now.)
3. I have an aunt who used to be my uncle. I think I should call her my aunt. Although she's the father of my cousin. And that really messes with my preference for correct noun-pronoun agreement.
(Not that it's all about me.)
4. I used to wonder why we were never invited to dinner parties. Surely people should be bombarding our butler* with constant invitations to balls, right? But until recently, we'd gotten nary an invite.
Then I went to a Christmas cookie exchange party a month ago and talked about how I don't have a labia minora.
What? People talk about their bowel health and painful labors all the time. I'm just trying to fit in.
Until a doctor mentioned it a few years ago, I thought only porn stars had labia minora. I thought they got them from having too much sex. (True story.) (Not that I've ever looked at porn.)
The big mystery is if I ever had a labia minora or if I used to have one and it disappeared. Yes, it is possible for it to disappear (or atrophy, usually because of some crazy autoimmune thing). So you might want to check yours periodically to make sure it's still there.
I bet you didn't know that. And that is why you read this blog. For important medical information like this.
When I first discovered that porn stars are more normal than I am, I was depressed. Especially when my OB/GYN told me that the problem I have usually only happens to post-menopausal women.
I went through a period of being all, "I'm old and deformed. My gynecologist only tolerates looking at my girly bits because I give her money."
But then I got a new gynecologist. And this one told me that women actually have PLASTIC SURGERY to reduce their labia minoras! It's called a labiaplasty. I won't link it for you because I assume you don't want to be redirected to pictures of vaginas. (You're welcome.)
It makes me feel so good to know that millions of women** are vajazzling themselves to the tune of $5000 for something I have for free!
(Y'all know I love a good deal.)
5. I'm pretty sure I overshared on #4.
6. I'm a little worried about what Google will do with indexing my blog now that I've used the words "shemale" and "vajazzling".
7. I don't plan on posting about vaginas again. Just to be clear.
8. You guys know I'm cheap, right? I hate wasting money. That doesn't mean I hate spending money. I just want to get a good value. Anyhoo, I bought a pair of purple long johns several months ago. I wore them once. As jammy pants. Then I loaned them to a Homeskool Mafia member when her son was in the hospital. And she never gave them back. I guess she figured they were her due for having to live at a hospital for several weeks.
So I bought another pair and didn't wear them until the Illinois trip last week. And they didn't fit very well. I might just be romanticizing the past, but I think my (stolen) first pair of purple long johns fit me just right. The second pair had way too much belly room (which NEVER happens with me) and not enough butt room (which often happens with me). So I tried them on backwards. And they fit! I figured these particular purple pants must have been mistagged or something. (Is mistagged a word?) I thought about keeping them, but having the tag in the front of the pants totally screwed with my obsessive-compulsive need for order. What?! A tag in the FRONT? What is the world coming to!!!!!?
I wanted to return them, but I'd already thrown away the package they came in. So I bought a THIRD pair of purple long johns with the intention of returning the ill-fitting second pair in the package that the third pair came in. (You still with me? I know. The ethics are murky here.) But then the third pair fit like the second pair! I guess Fruit of the Loom must have been short a quality control inspector for their last batch of big girl long johns.
I thought about keeping them. About throwing caution to the wind, living on the wild side, and wearing them backwards. But then I was all, No. You know what? I'm DONE with long johns! Long johns let me down. In my experience, when you own long johns, they are either stolen from you, or they are faulty in some way.
(Much like my experience with red t-shirts. I'm done with those too.)
So I found the receipts for both pairs of jacked up long johns and went to Walmart. Because Walmart takes everything back. Which is a boon for people with OCD like me.
I walked in with my purple pea coat, my purple purse, and not one, but two purple pairs of long johns. One of which had no package. Yeah, that Crazy Purple Lady at Walmart tonight? That was me. And I got my money back! All $12 of it.
So let's review: I made a trip to Walmart at 8PM at night with ice on the roads with the sole purpose of returning two pairs of $6 long johns. Because I can't wait to return things when I decide that I don't want them. It makes me anxious. It's unfinished business. Just knowing that "not-mine" stuff is sitting there. Waiting to be returned. Mocking me. *shiver*
9. Then I went to Target and bought a soft pair of sweatpants instead. I hope I like them, because Target is picky about returns. Plus, I'm getting tired of the Great Stretchy Pant Debacle of 2013. I'm ready to relax in my pants. To introduce them to all of my other pants. And that can't happen until I've decided to keep them. Because my other pants would be sad if I returned a pair after they'd made friends and stuff.
10. There really isn't a #10. But I prefer even numbers and all the How To Blog advice says lists of 10 are where it's at.
Oh wait. I do have something. I have a video of myself singing Adele's Make You Feel My Love that I will post tomorrow.
And here is a picture, because the How To Blog advice says all blog posts need a picture.
It is an anatomy picture.
And that's all I have to say about that.
* We don't actually have a butler. But if we did, he would have excellent nostrils. The nostrils of royalty. And people would invite us to stuff all the time just to get a glimpse of our butler's amazing nostrils.
** I made up the statistic of millions of vajazzling women. But I assure you that labiaplasty is real.
Which makes me think that after this post, women are going to be offering me money for a picture of my model vulva. You know, to take to their plastic surgeons. They'll be all, "I want Angelina Jolie's lips, Jennifer Lopez's butt, Jennifer Aniston's nose, and Danielle's vulva."
So Tree Guy, you don't have to worry about how we'll afford retirement anymore!