This gadget takes gum stimulation to a whole new level. Since when do depraved individuals have to disguise their sex toys as health products.

Labels: thematic thursdays

This is just funny. Sorry.

Labels: thematic thursdays

Labels: fuss, Parenting, thematic thursdays

Top ten things I miss doing since I got these stupid stitches.

10. I miss being able to walk up a flight of stairs without stopping in the middle.

9. I miss being able to pick up my oldest daughter.

8. I miss laying on my husband. I can just barely put my head on his shoulder and throw my leg on top of his hip. It's some sad cuddling.

7. I miss dancing. I only take like one or two classes per week, but I think it's one of those 'I want to do it really badly just because I can't' sort of things.

6. I miss squatting. I can't squat down or bend over to pick anything up. It's annoying.

5. I miss stretching in the morning. My muscles feel stupid right now. I need a chiropractor, a massage therapist, and an occupational therapist. Then I need a hypnotherapist to make me forget all this crap ever happened.

4. I miss not *having" to ask anyone for help.

3. I miss sex. I wouldn't be able to do that with a natural delivery though either ... I suppose. ;)

2. I miss hugging my oldest daughter. She sees me hold the baby all the time for feedings, but I can't hug her, because it hurts.

1. I miss being able to laugh. I'm most famous for my loud ass laugh, but every time I do it now, it feels like my stomach is going to bust open and my liver is going to fall on the ground.

Labels: Parenting, pregnancy, thematic thursdays

Labels: thematic thursdays

I'm writing this blog Monday night. If I'm not in labor by today, everyone please pray that I don't put 85 drops of blue cohosh under my tongue tonight. If you all focus on Ella coming out of my vagina at the same time, then maybe she will do it. I believe in that kind of stuff. There's power in thoughts, man! Really. Stop what you're doing, close your eyes, and envision my cervix opening up like a flower. Wonderful! Now, on with the show.

Labels: thematic thursdays

Don't know what to write
Pen is always easier.
We'll see what happens.

Watching other's lives
Like a serious car crash
Lightens my load some

You will never be
praised for negative actions.
I thought you knew that!

The jackpot of life
The blissful living I'm in
is overshadowed

Too many leaving
Too many already left
In my heavy heart

How did Thursday come?
This week flew by in a blur.
What's my name again?

I feel so lonely.
A friend across the country
Memories left here.

How's that for brain fart?
I always say I'm empty ...
verses flow freely

Labels: haiku, thematic thursdays

Your turkey is probably in the oven, or perhaps you're heading to grandma's. Maybe you're even bringing a side dish to compete with your sister-in-law's famous macaroni and cheese. Even if you are mustering up the patience to deal with the cousin you never could stand, you are preparing to spend Thanksgiving Day with your family.

I don't have that option at the moment -- spending time with family. I'm sure one day it will return. Until then, I kind of have beef with "Turkey Day." Aside from the convoluted foundation of the holiday, my family has never really been the same since my Great Great Great Aunt died during the holidays in 1998. She had a stroke while preparing the desserts several days before Christmas. She only lasted a few days after that, but we actually ate the last meal she'd prepared that Christmas.

She was the rock of the family, churning out dish after dish each holiday and smiling all the while.

These days, all of my extended family pretty much stays home or adopts another family for the day. It didn't help that my mom died of breast cancer last June.

Even though the gatherings had been sparse, she at least prepared a delicious meal each year and I had somewhere familiar to go. Truthfully, those feasts began to lose their fervor towards the end. Monotonous conversations, dim faces, and long pauses always reminded us that the grim reaper was sitting at the table with us. She had been battling the cancer for eleven years and as beautiful as she was, its physical effects eventually manifested.

I tried visiting other people's houses for a couple of years. It's awkward. If I can't be loud, crazy Myshell, because someone's relative may flip out, then I have to be shy, courteous Myshell. That's just no fun. I prefer environments where everybody knows my name like "Cheers." I'm not really into meeting new people. Pilot conversations are so boring. "How many siblings do you have?" "What do you do?" "What's your sign?" "Where are you from?"

Bah! I want to be around people, who already know that I'm a dance teacher with a mild case of Tourette Syndrome, a five-year-old daughter, and a retarded sister. I want a location, where they know I can't stand perfume or incense, because they'll give me a headache for a week-and-a-half.

The year my mom died, a bunch of friends and I threw a "Thanks But No Thanks" dinner. It was fun. There was wine, laughter, games, and a heap of food. It was a lot of work, though. At nine months pregnant, I'm just looking to chill. Shoot, I'm happy to have a day off. I still cooked, though. The truth is I like my own candied yams the most. I don't need to compete for the macaroni and cheese championship belt, because it's already hanging in my closet. Hannibal will probably go off briefly to visit a family that he's adopted. One of our favorite couples may also be coming over to hang out with us, or they may not. Either way, there's a full spread here for my immediate family to enjoy. I'm thankful for them. I'm the mommy now -- making memories for Mooch.

Labels: thematic thursdays

When I was younger I thought a lot of crazy things. I believed the moon followed me around at night. I thought that if I bought red star earrings I could transform like Jem. I secretly thought my mom was white until I was like seven years old, and I was certain that boogers held the key to long life and immunity.

At those ages I wasn't ashamed to share any of those ideas, which is how I ultimately came to know they weren't true. Shame is one of the largest deterrents of truth and change. The opposite of shame is to risk uncertainty and be willing to not know. Shame is about hiding and staying in what is familiar even if it's very bad, because you feel so awful inside and you don't want anyone to know. People hide blemishes, illiteracy, vulnerability and regrets, because they fear anyone else rejecting them. The truth is they are the ones rejecting their own humanity. Shame is the ESL student, who is afraid of pronouncing a word, so he doesn't even try.

I can't remember the exact life experience that was the beginning of my willingness to give up on myself, but I know that it was linked to shame and that I've been fighting it ever since -- reclaiming my audacity. Flaws are the new black.

As a parent and a teacher, I understand that it is crucial never to use shame to push kids into "better" skill or behavior. Shame is far more powerful than people realize, and its impact can last for decades. Children and students must take risks, and they must not be made to fear uncertainty. If my daughters and my students can be impervious to the judgment of others and be willing to try without fear, then I've done the most important part of my job. Their lives will be easier than my own -- not just in dance -- but in all areas.

If you want to be good at English and it's a new language, or the best dancer in the cipher, or an author who writes well, then you have to care less about what others say and practice, practice, practice shamelessly. The only thing I'm ashamed of today is that this is just clicking for me in 2009. I did, however, have the gall to embrace uncertainty and share it on the web. Hopefully, I've helped someone else.

Labels: thematic thursdays

I stayed in the house most of the weekend except for going to work Saturday morning. I guess this thrusted me into a bit of a nesting phase, because Sunday I decided to rearrange and dust the office. I also took on the project of filing a big gray cardboard box of papers that has been on the office floor since we moved here.

The problem was that the office chair and all of the lovely Ikea stools (read: crappy stools) we have in the house don't support my back properly. Theoretically, I should have sorted the papers in bed. When Hannibal proposed this idea, however, the conversation went like this:

Me: I can't keep bending over like this.
Hannibal: Honey, I can move the box into the bed, so you can sort there with as many pillows as you'd like.
Me: No. No.
Hannibal: Why not?
Me: Every time I get to the middle of sorting through a box of papers, I see a spider. If I see one, I'm going to freak out and fling the spider off of the paper into the bed. Then I'm going to say, "Baby, I can't sleep in this bed."
Hannibal: Then I'll say, "I'm more than happy to move to the futon with you.
Me: But, then I'll say, "The futon is on the floor!" It's too dusty to sleep on the floor. We have to go to a hotel. Then if we ever come back from the hotel, I'll say the spider probably had babies in the bed, and I never want to sleep there again."
Hannibal: We are NOT going to a hotel when we're paying to stay here, and one spider can't make babies on its own!
Me: Hey, you're supposed to be speaking in future tense.
None of this has happened yet!
Hannnibal: Mmm (continues) typing.

Three hours later, my back and butt hurt like hell, and I didn't even see a damn spider. Grrrr!..

(Hannibal then later reminded me that he didn't actually say anything after "why not?" I actually said all of that in one long breathless monologue. "You don't seem to need me for most conversations," he said, "so you don't need to pretend like I participate." I reminded him that people would think I'm crazy and that all these conversations are happening in my head. He said, "I'm willing to take that risk.")

Update from Thematic Thursdays (last week): So, the person I was advising on long distance relationships decided to send her guy a pair of crotchless panties through the mail. That's sexy and spontaneous, right? The only problem was that his sixty-year-old secretary turned beet red, and several women were laughing at him when he entered the office. Folks, please save the kinky mailings for your man's home mailing address. Sorry for any confusion this may have caused. :)

Labels: marital mondays, marriage, thematic thursdays

Dear Supa Sista,

My situation is two-fold. Please share your thoughts on long distance relationships. I live in Los Angeles, and I've recently begun dating a guy in another state. I've known him for twenty years. We went to school together, and we reconnected on FaceBook. We've always been cool, but we have never dated before three months ago.

I also have an ex, who won't LEAVE ME ALONE. How can I make him understand that it is over?

Signed,
In Love and Over It

Dear In Love & Over It,

I was going to tell you to get a large shoe box and fill it with feces and FedEx it to your ex's house (I hate UPS), but my husband says that poop is flammable and you'd probably be arrested or have to pay a fine. With that said, you should probably change his number to "DO NOT ANSWER" in your cellphone, because if you delete it, and you forget that it's him, then you'll accidentally answer and have to hear him whine. Next, you should also tell him that you have an incurable sexually transmitted disease and that you'd rather sleep with a baby cow. If none of this works, give me his address. I know an Italian.

Side Note: "DO NOT ANSWER" is also a good way to store bill collectors in your cell phone. It saves you the headache of having this conversation:

"Ma'am, would you like to make a payment today?"

"Hell no! If I had the money, I would have sent it to you in the first place!"

Moving on. Supa Sista doesn't do long distance relationships. I need to keep my penis close to me. Your mileage may vary. I don't believe distance can hurt a bond that is based on trust, mutual respect, commitment and love, but if you haven't seen this guy since twenty years ago, I'm not sure how much of any of these things you guys have. Take it slowly.

Long distance relationships work best when there's a plan (i.e. In 2010, one of you will relocate to where the other one is.) This can't go on forever. You also need to schedule times to communicate with each other, and be detailed about your day (co-worker's names, the weather, etc.), so your partner feels involved. Don't get too chatty though. Even in long distance relationships people need time to miss each other. Limit phone calls to an hour per day. You can't pull all-nighters every night and be productive. I've tried.

If the two of you can, you should visit each other often! I would suggest clearing your calendars during these visits to maximize on quality time. You know I'd also suggest bending over with a few candles lit. :) One person shouldn't be doing the bulk of the traveling though. They'll begin to harbor resentment.

Lastly, you should incorporate the element of surprise to spice things up and don't forget to maintain your own life at home. Send interesting things in the mail (people love to get mail), hire a singing telegram chick, send flowers, have phone sex. Don't lose sight of your own goals, maintain your friendships and make sure you continue to grow as a person. If you become too engrossed, he'll lose interest and you'll lose your job. Good luck!

Signed,

Supa Sista

Labels: advice, thematic thursdays

It must suck a little to be a celebrity who grows up famous -- like Drew Barrymore, Macaulay Culkin, Danny Partridge. It has got to be awful to be judged at 40 by the dumb things you did when you were 20 (Lindsay Lohan, I hope you're reading this). Blogging is sort of like that, too -- there is all the crap you wrote three years ago on display for everyone to see. It may not in any remote way reflect the larger part of who you are -- it is only a reflection of something you were processing at a specific moment in time. Like writing a letter on Sunday stating that you have the stomach flu, sending it hundreds of miles away, only to be perfectly fine by the time the recipient reads it.

This is precisely why I'm not going to write a blog about the time when I was 8, and I put peanut butter on myself to try to get my German Shepherd to go down on me. If I write that, then you'll all remember it and taunt me for the rest of my life. I don't want to be running for senator one day and have the peanut butter blog resurface. Wait a minute, I think I just *did* (not run for senator, but post a blog about peanut butter). Luckily, I'm not going to run for any office, because I think most elected officials are morons.

I've been really getting a kick out of saying the word moron this week, but Hannibal is very offended by it (probably because he graduated from USC), so I tried to work the word into a blog. He'll probably be offended that I even mentioned it, because now you all know that I've been calling him a moron all week. It's not because he's stupid or anything. I just really like the sound of the word. I was going to switch to calling him Enron, and he was actually on board for that. I think it's because Enron has become an icon for corporate fraud and corruption. Hannibal is evil. Anyway, that didn't work, because I stopped liking the sound of calling him Enron after about 30 seconds and went back to moron. Hopefully, I latch onto a new word by next week.

Speaking of latching on ... nevermind ... I should probably stop typing this now before I get myself into trouble. I'm going to pick up Mooch.

Labels: marriage, thematic thursdays