Now that I am pregnant, I think that we need a new national holiday for pregnant ladies. I'm not getting pregnant again anytime soon, so we'll need to be quick about lobbying President Obama for this change.
Given that I'm starting to feel a bit claustrophobic because there's something pushing on me from the inside, I don't feel there should have to be anything pushing on me from the outside.
Therefore, I officially declare this new holiday Naked Day. Not everyone is allowed to be naked, just the pregnant ladies. No wastebands. No bras. No underwear. No clothes. Boobs waving like a flag in the wind, bellybuttons collecting pollen.
Who's with me?
6.28.2009
6.23.2009
resentment
I'm starting to resent the fact that I cannot drink. Sometimes shit happens and one drink just doesn't cut it.
When my plane is canceled, I want the option to sit down at the trashy airport bar and get drunk.
When I'm irrationally afraid of getting fired, and ending up on Welfare for Women With Dependent Children, probably with a bum hip and a limp, I want three dirty martinis, extra olives please.
When I look in the mirror and see that a large woman has overtaken my svelte athletic body, maybe, just maybe, I want to get drunk. Maybe I want to fill my coffers with liquor instead of resentment. It seems like a much healthier option.
When my plane is canceled, I want the option to sit down at the trashy airport bar and get drunk.
When I'm irrationally afraid of getting fired, and ending up on Welfare for Women With Dependent Children, probably with a bum hip and a limp, I want three dirty martinis, extra olives please.
When I look in the mirror and see that a large woman has overtaken my svelte athletic body, maybe, just maybe, I want to get drunk. Maybe I want to fill my coffers with liquor instead of resentment. It seems like a much healthier option.
Been busy gettin' fat
As a purely humanitarian gesture, I'd like to see about giving away my boobs. Really. Now I know why they call them boobs. They are stupid.
I have always had a fairly contentious relationship with my bosoms. On a normal day, they are a healthy cup size A, which is more than enough for me. During times of high water retention when they get a bit enlarged, I've even been known to "flick" them in angst. You know the move: index finger on thumb, release, ricochet... flick. No one ever seems to approve of this move except for me. Yet I stand my ground.
Now I don't even see the point of the flick. Now I'd have to take a baseball bat to them in order to get my point across: you are too freakin' big.
So many women seem to fancy these amorphous blobs of flesh protruding from their chests... enough to pay the price of seven trips to Vegas to see them get bigger. Why can't I offer up some kind of trade with these insane creatures? No need for silicone implants - you can just have my pregnancy boobs, the real deal, out of the goodness of my heart.
The damn baby can suck on a bottle for all I care. Just get these things off of me.
I have always had a fairly contentious relationship with my bosoms. On a normal day, they are a healthy cup size A, which is more than enough for me. During times of high water retention when they get a bit enlarged, I've even been known to "flick" them in angst. You know the move: index finger on thumb, release, ricochet... flick. No one ever seems to approve of this move except for me. Yet I stand my ground.
Now I don't even see the point of the flick. Now I'd have to take a baseball bat to them in order to get my point across: you are too freakin' big.
So many women seem to fancy these amorphous blobs of flesh protruding from their chests... enough to pay the price of seven trips to Vegas to see them get bigger. Why can't I offer up some kind of trade with these insane creatures? No need for silicone implants - you can just have my pregnancy boobs, the real deal, out of the goodness of my heart.
The damn baby can suck on a bottle for all I care. Just get these things off of me.
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