on various minor problems, not all of which involve my genitals.

Lately I've been having some (minor) problems.  Observe:

1) I'm kind of down lately, probably due in part to our house still being in a state of recently-moved-in-shambles (and I just can't seem to motivate myself to do anything about it), and probably partly due to the fact that this semester is totally sucky and boring.  But that's okay.  Both of these things will be fixed relatively soon, and then we can all move on to more exciting things, like baking homemade bread and buying an immersion blender and reading books about bread baking and immersion blenders.

2) Queefing in yoga class.  Sigh.  How embarrassing.  It only started happening, like, 4 classes ago, and  only during shoulder stand.  I'm not sure what's going on down there, but whatever it is, it definitely involves a lot of air.  And also my vagina.  And, actually, they were fairly quiet little fwips (and therefore totally deal-able)... until yesterday, when I ripped a really loud one.  And everyone pretended like they didn't hear it.  (Six people in a small, quiet room?  Yeah, you all heard it.)  And that's when I thought to myself, "Hm.  Would it be better to try to convince them that it wasn't a fart, or is it actually worse to try to discuss air escaping from my hooha?"  I mean, how do you even talk about that with a bunch of weird yoga strangers?  Would you actually say the word "queef" (which, oh god, sounds so fucking disgusting to me; there needs to be a better, non-vomitous word [preferably not involving the letters q, u, f, or g, all of which tend to seem slightly gross]), or would you do some awkward dancing around a direct description--like, "It wasn't a fart!  It was air that came out of...another part...that's not my butt"?  In the end, I opted for pretending like it didn't happen, and held out hope that somehow no one else noticed it.  Riiiiiight.

3) I've become kind of (read: very) baby crazy lately.  As in, like, seeing babies in public and staring at them for a really long time.  As in, like, reading library books about pregnancy and birth and parenting.  As in, like, wanting to have a baby.  I don't know if this technically qualifies as a "problem," but it's kind of freaking me out. [Edit: I'm actually not freaking out anymore; I'm happily resigned.]  It's also freaking out The Mister, but I think he'll feel a little better once I foist one of my library books on him.  Or maybe he'll feel even worse...fun!  [Note: Apparently, babies are made by white people made out of paper.  Or something.]

4) I can't not lift the lid off a pot of cooking rice in order to check its progress.  I know, I know.  It lets the precious steam escape and makes it take longer to cook and, oh god, I just want my rice to be done!  Last night I made a very delicious rice-mushroom-onion meal, using Trader Joe's Brown Rice Medley, a most fucking tasty blend of brown rice, black barley, and daikon radish seeds.  I highly recommend it.  [Side note: A Trader Joe's Fan website?  Awesome!]

5) Um, hello?  Proposition 8 (in California)?  All those other douchebag states that voted to deny people their rights, either through marriage or adoption?  Yeah, I have a problem with you.  More on this later, to be sure.

6) I'm sure there's something else, but who wants to sit around and listen to me complain about air-filled ladyparts and civil rights violations and poor cooking habits?  Bo-ring.  

Comments

[kristina]

i can't wait to meet your baby. it's going to be this jewey little guy/gal that comes out queefing in shoulder stand position; eating brown rice; and being totally gay.

[MJ]

I haven't met you - I'm a friend of Kristina's through Sons of Norway and I'm laughing my ASS off about the queefing. Sorry - it's not at your expense - it's just funny.
I also live in CA and am disgusted by the prop 8 crap. It is so wrong. You would not believe the stuff the pro 8 people put out there. They will be teaching about gay marriage in schools - wrong. It takes away from "real" marriage - wrong. (the last time I checked, the only two people in our marriage were my husband and me). If gay couples want to get married - let them do it. It does not take one iota away from my marriage (nor anyone else's) as the pro 8 jerks were saying.

[mary]

The book you have pictured was the exact book my mother used to teach me about sex. I forgot what it looked like, 'til now.
Thank you.
m.