I would like to be in a Dane Cook Norm MacDonald sandwich. They are the bread, of course, and I am the tuna.
This is what happens when you blog after too much sangria at bunco.
As I get older, however, I am noticing that more and more all of the women I associate are finally on the same level as me. Motherhood has become the great equalizer as far as the outward appearance of most women goes.
Got a great figure? Have a giant bowling ball of a baby in your womb and see what happens to that
Love taking lots of time in the morning to fix your hair and apply meticulous makeup? Have a kid and realize that the precious little time you have to yourself during the day can be better spent decompressing than making yourself pretty for a toddler.
Enjoy wearing the latest trendy fashions? See how long that lasts when your darling 2 year old comes up to give you a hug and subsequently uses your expensive designer shirt as a napkin.
Add lack of sleep, hormones, a comfortable marriage, and natural aging into the mix and you start to get a regular bunch of women who find something more important to think about than their looks.
It is so wonderful to finally feel at par with the rest of womanhood (Skinny, volvo driving perfect women excluded).
Now I just need to start scrapbooking, sell Pampered Chef products or Mary Kay and the transformation into a real woman is complete.
Today she was wearing a winnie the pooh denim jumper with a matching pooh shirt.
Why do some women seem to revert to wearing adult sized children's clothing when they have children themselves? I don't even know where one would buy these things.
There is nothing so humbling as watching a Discovery Channel special two glasses of wine into the night. I am one lucky person to have a healthy and happy little boy who is the light of my life.
And Jennifer Gray looks better with her nosejob for sure. (dirty dancing is playing as I am typing).
Yeah, this is what happens when I try to be philosophical when I am drinking. At least I am not sobbing, which is what happened for a whole year every time I smoked pot (5 years ago).
Why the hell does anyone need to know how many one night stands I have had? Are my sexual conquests supposed to be a badge of honor somehow? Seriously, am I a better person if I have done more dangerous and risque things with multiple sexual partners? It seems absurd to me that announcing to the world that I have given some random guy head in a movie theatre would make me a more attractive person in the eyes of a friend. If anything it seems like a desperate attempt to convince other people that you are okay with your body image when in actuality you are not.
Honestly, the idea of sex to me is something so intimate that I wouldn't even consider sharing that with someone who I didn't know implicitly and trust completely. I have so many hang ups about my body that exposing myself to a random person never seemed like a good idea(unless they like having sex through a hole in a sheet or with me fully clothed).
Having a child has made this all worse. Yes, I still wear the same pants size as before I got pregnant, however, I feel sometimes as though my outer appearance is just a carefully held together facade and at any moment my zipper will pop open and the awful truth will come busting out. My stomach is not as flat as it used to be no matter how many sit ups I do. I have learned to accept it but I know for sure that if anything ever happened to make me single again I would probably have to contend with a life of celibacy and sexual satisfaction only through electronic devices. Yes, i am that hung up about my body.
Anyway, the fact that my "friend" can be so bold as to announce all of her sexual conquests to the world and I cannot wear a necklace with a pentagram on it or feel uncomfortable announcing that I am agnostic seems ridiculous to me. I guess maybe if I disclosed my disbelief in God it would be good to start like this (Maybe on a t-shirt):
SEXUALLY, I'M PRACTICALLY A VIRGIN!...who doesn't believe in God
NEVER FUCKED A STRANGER...and my son is quite possibly the antichrist