Two Songs Rewritten for the Tunes Sake

Yesterday was a rough day, which consisted of the following:

1. IUD insertion

Yep, that about sums it up. It ended with a wheelchair trip to my car and about 6 hours on the couch. Of course now that I have it inside me, all I can find on the internet are horror stories about it. I guess that's the internet for you. I HOPE thats the internet for you. Anyway, I would regale you with the entire gruesome story about how it was inserted and why it hurt so bad but I'm of the mindset that your blog should never contain the word "cervix" in reference to medical procedures that you have recently endured. Maybe not even then.

So thats my excuse for not updating yesterday, the other days I have nothing to offer except that my life isn't that exciting.

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Yesterday Jess called to ask if she thought she and I were "high maintenance." Initially (and reflexively) I said "Of course not, we are the perfect girlfriends and any man would be lucky to have us." That's what you're supposed to say, right? But then I got to thinking, and halfway through our ranting and raving about how low maintenance we are I realized the following:

There is no way we are low maintenance.

Not in the conventional sense, anyway. Nope, Jess and I do not belong in the Complete Low Maintenance Woman aisle at the woman store. Heres what happened to me on Wed. which confirmed this forever and ever amen:

• C wanted to go grocery shopping instead of getting a pumpkin from the quaint and charitably oriented pumpkin patch at the local Lutheran church and instead of being cool and all "oh ok, I guess we dont really have food and the DO sell pumpkins at the grocery store", I cried. CRIED. "ONLY PUMPKINS GROWN AND HARVESTED BY NAVAJO INDIANS WILL DO!#$!@#$"

I'm sure there are some examples of how she's HM as well. Probably something to do with needing her space and insisting that she spend all her money on shoes and demanding that her landlord do silly things like fix her heat. Silly landlords. Maybe I'll call her tonight and ask for some examples.

Me, I'll chalk it up to hormones, that usually does the trick.

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OK, this blog entry gets longer and stupider by the minute, so I guess that means it's time to go home.