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.

blog OBSESSED.

Lately I find that I'm a little obsessed with my blog. Something great happens and normally I'd call my mom or C, but recently (and by recently, I mean, in the last week or so) the first thing I think is "I have to tell my BLOG." Really, who is even reading my blog? No-one probably. I'm rushing to tell a server somewhere about my life. I feel like sometimes I can read over my past blogs (and keep in mind, the majority of my blogging (2002-present) resides elsewhere on the internet and is not part of the work related drivel contained herein) and in a sense they are talking back to me. In the sense that I read them and they say "can you believe you actually thought people might care about this angsty bullshit at one time?" I'm banking on the fact that someday sheer volume of posts will culminate in some sort of complete, rich Portrait of a Blogger as a Young Woman.

I wonder how people get into these big networks of bloggers. I notice all the "famous" blogs I read are all linked in with other famous blogs, and they all read each others blogs and have blog bookdeals and attend blog conventions or whatnot.

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Today C went to the dentist for the first time in probably.....ever. I'm exaggerating of course, but it has been a while. Why are men so afraid of the dentist? I've been talking this over with some of my girlfriends, and so far this is a universal trend. This morning all I heard was how the dentist was gonna lecture him and get mad at him, and I'm wondering, what sort of dentists did all of these dentophobic men attend as young boys. I'm imagining a giant conspiracy ring of leather-clad sado-masochistic bondage dentists/dental assistants: "you didn't floss? thats thirty lashes with the tickler for you."

Some guys might be into that though, so thats a good business prospect for all those kinky girls who are also interested in dentistry.

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Abbreviations.com is a great website, and probably not blocked by websense (I was just imagining if it WAS blocked by websense; "Your network administrator has blocked the web category 'abbreviation websites'..." hahahaha) , for anydorkone who's curious about all the things your initials could stand for, or if you're immature like me you'll search "SEX" and "FUCK" and you'll find that the letters "SEX" are actually pretty useful.
For instance:
SEX is the airport code for sembach, germany.
SEX also stands for the Scientific Experimental Xylophone and Sexually Educated X-men.
FUCK isn't that interesting except for there are THREE universities with the acronym fuck, whcih is AWESOME. I don't feel like typing them, but I swear its true.

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I keep trying to open new tabs so people who walk by my office won't be able to read the embarrassing ones ("harrypotterfanfiction.com :: 50,000 HARRY POTTER STORIES" and "What does FUCK stand for?" are the most offensive/abjectly humiliating if you must know.) So now I have 12 tabs open for things like " The New York Times online" and "The Economist" Hopefully people will be so blinded by my largely intelligent web browsing that they will fail to notice my humiliating harry potter story addiction.

Ok, off to work.

cant be bothered

Today I got to "escape" work and go to the gynecologist. Yippee! I guess I'm finally getting around to that "important" list of things to do with my money that I posted a while back. Anyway, I went in there with guns-a-blazin, fully intending to demand an IUD, since I hate birth control that requires me to do...anything. I just want it to sit up there and do what it's supposed to until I decide to reproduce. I can't deal with this "take a pill once a day at 1:57.09 p.m. shit. As you can probably guess I didn't even get around to suggesting the IUD and they put me right back on the ring. I can sort of already see where this is going:

1. Dr. puts me on the ring.
2. I get frustrated with it because it falls out all the time.
3. I have a couple panic attacks about being pregnant because I forget to put it back in or something. Not that this is any different than my normal monthly panic attack about pregnancy.
4. I stop taking it altogether because I run out of my trial pack and hate it so much that I don't want to get my prescription filled.
5. I go back to the dr. to complain and she tells me i need to try the ring. (see step one)

Maybe everything about the ring is circular and unending.