superb

dating is so fun in SF. i so enjoy going out with guys who haven't admitted to themselves that they're gay.

didn't think so

these words seem to have strayed a bit from their original meanings:

Catcall: (n) shout of disapproval; boo
Catholic: (adj) universal; wide-ranging liberals.

picture of the day:

aww.

happy holiday !

hi ,happy holiday -have a fun and safe 4th of july ! and call me or email me please .

mom

attempt #1

(warning! menstrual talk!)

i recently bought a diva cup. i.e. a blood cup. thought it would be nice to have something to reuse instead of flushing tampons, throwing away pads, and more dangerously, leaving in my tampons sometimes 12 hours at a time. (the other day, i actually forgot that i had left one in and inserted another one. imagine my bleary eyed surprise when two tampons came out the next morning. i didn't have my glasses on or contacts in, so i actually had to get eye level with the toilet to verify)

anyways, i'm on my period right now. i'd put off trying it out the first couple of days because i didn't have the time, but tonight i am home alone, and don't plan on doing much more than doing some GRE studying and reading. so after my shower, i decided to try it out.

well, getting it in was much easier than i thought it would be. first off, it looked BIG to me (about 1.5 inches in diameter?) but that proved to be inconsequential. when i got to the next step, which was sealing off the cup, i realized that i couldn't quite get a strong enough grip on the cup's stem to turn it - leading to my appalling conclusion that i'd inserted it too far in.

i quickly reached for the pamphlet, which helpfully emphasized, "Do not panic if you cannot get the cup out easily". after grabbing at my poor nether regions for at least a good 10 minutes straight, and wondering if i should go cut my fingernails (i decided against this when i realized it would further weaken my grip), i read the emergency directions more slowly, and the phrase "gently bear down on your stomach muscles" slowly dawned on me: give birth to the cup.

so i did. and it worked. it plopped out with a slightly alarming celerity that made me wonder about splashage if the cup were indeed full.

at this point, i'm tired of feeling as if i'm in the girl's 8th grade restroom trying to figure out an applicator free tampon (with andrea snell standing outside the stall dictating instructions), so i just put in a tampon (an O.B., as it were). i was vaguely dismayed at how roomy i felt in comparision.

will update you on attempt 2.

you win

i've been thinking...

that i'm going to start washing my hair again.

this greasy, stringy, only-partially-satisfactory baking soda thing isn't quite working out.

i miss having nice-smelling, smooth, silky hair. while i can tell things look fairly normal from front, i do not like wondering if i have a clumpy, dirty head from behind.

must make a trip to rainbow grocery for some hippie toiletries.

probably bad for my wallet & weight...

but i love working at the ferry building. where else can i go have some scharffenberger chocolate samples & buy organic kumquats in under 5 minutes?

eventually though, i'll have to buy a chocolate bar or they're going to start "knowing" this face.

onto the diagnostic tests

i've been hovering around 1300-1400 on my diagnostic exams. once my results are satisfactorily stable (preferably in the 1500 range), i'm going to buy a date.

An Intransigent Ichthyologist Displays Her Mulish Devotion for Her Libertine of a Male Companion

She stared at the dregs of her tea, at this point turbid with tears and sputum. Not only had the sycophantic charlatan broken her heart with his spuriousness, he’d infected her with an inimical sinus infection.

She coughed into her napkin. Amid his empty flattery, he’d been quick to excoriate her, calling her theories specious, her diet gluttonous where his abstemious, and her attempts at abandoning fish to compose an aria a backsliding move. Despite his criticisms, she was smitten with his intellectual prowess. As a fellow scholar – a firebrand herpetologist, they’d met at the university – he received countless approbations from the department chair, wrote topical research papers, and when he actually paid attention to her, she felt it fortuitous that he had gifted her with his propitiousness.

Then she caught him with her, and her irascible nature left its quiescence. As if an alate beetle, she flew into a tirade, berating him for deceiving a guileless young woman as she, calling him a doctrinaire for his 19th century-like abuse of women. Her histrionic rage was ineluctable, her screech as high as a virtuoso, and her self-righteousness bombastic.

For his part, he played an ingeniously ingenuous victim. More salty tears fell as she remembered his prolix gainsay in regards to her anathemas:

“Who is this vituperative woman and what have I done to deserve her opprobrious effrontery?