Butter On My Sweet Potato

Just another WordPress.com site

Archive for February, 2011


Posted by Gin on February 16, 2011

So I dreamt that I’d been having these crazy stomach pains, and so John took me to the ER, and the doctor there was like, Surprise! You’re in labor!, and I was all, WHAT LIKE WITH A BABY?? I NEVER GOT FAT OR ANYTHING, and he was like, Yes! And you’re 6 cm dilated! [I remember *that* part of the dream very specifically, being examined and being all JESUS OW], and I was like, WHAT THE EFF! ALSO, MY DOCTORS HAVE TOLD ME THAT I WILL LIKELY HAVE TO HAVE A C-SECTION [true], and he was like, No you’re not! You’ll be pushing!, and then I called Jamie and was crying and like, WHAT THE HELL YOU HAVE TO GET HERE I AM NOT PREPARED FOR THIS AND MY VAGINA IS NOT READY FOR THIS PLEASE COME HERE NOW, and then it was like the episode of Friends where Rachel is in labor and all these women come in after her but have their babies before her and she is mad and jealous, I was in labor for FOREVER and everyone else was getting their  babies but me, and I was waiting long enough that Jamie and her husband (with camera!) had time to drive in from THREE HOURS AWAY, and John was tired so he was asleep in the hospital bed next to me and I was pissed about that, and then I think because it was taking so long, I decided to just go back into work (contractions and all), and I was wandering around Building 16 looking for room 261, but I kept having to stop in the hallway because CONTRACTIONS, and my sleep was very fitful early this morning and I kept waking up and then I had to pee and every time I’d come back to bed it would be to the SAME DREAM except that I NEVER HAD THE BABY and now I’m kind of freaked out, which is silly since I’ve been trying to MAKE A BABY for over THREE YEARS NOW, but when confronted with the thought of ACTUALLY DELIVERING ONE OUT OF MY LADYBITS, vs. Gently Ripped Out Of Your Guts While You Are Still Conscious (which is a concept I’ve gotten more comfortable with over the years), I get all panicky.



Posted in Uncategorized | 5 Comments »

Another very important conversation, this time about Justin Bieber, cows, and mimes.

Posted by Gin on February 14, 2011

Note: Pouty McSourgrapes is my friend that is formerly known as ¡THAT’S A LOT OF TACOS!, a.k.a., my friend C.


[15:39] Dude, Justin Bieber freaks me out.

[15:39] Like, in a “mimes freak me out” kind of way.

Pouty McSourgrapes

[15:39] Clows.

[15:39] Clowns.


[15:39] lol

[15:39] I seriously chuckled.

[15:39] Is that like a cow dressed as a clown?

[15:39] That’s about the saddest thing

[15:39] WAIT WAIT

[15:40] Sad Cow from the vegan wiki page, dressed as a clown.

[15:40] *THAT* is the saddest thing.

Pouty McSourgrapes

[15:41] Mime face-paint.


[15:42] With a single tear painted on its face.

[15:42] And a black-and-white-striped boatneck leotard, under black suspendered pants.

Pouty McSourgrapes

[15:43] And a thought-bubble that says “Must I die for your enjoyment?”



[15:43] YES.

Pouty McSourgrapes

[15:43] Okay, wow, this is actually getting for-real sad.


[15:43] And woeful accordion music plays in the background.

[15:43] As a single red balloon is released into the sky.

Pouty McSourgrapes

[15:43] And then a caption reads “Fin.”


[15:44] Dude.

[15:44] That’s Oscar bait right there.

Pouty McSourgrapes

[15:44] We’re so avant-garde.


[15:44] But see, we probably wouldn’t win, because no one would get it.

Pouty McSourgrapes

[15:45] We’ll go on talk shows and be all “If you don’t understand the intricate layers of meaning, I’m certainly not going to explain it to you.”


[15:45] Because it is *ABOVE* getting.

[15:45] Like, either you *feel* it, or you don’t.

[15:45] Exactly.

[15:45] Also, this means we have to take up smoking.

[15:45] I think.

Pouty McSourgrapes

[15:46] “The cow represents the suffering of the masses, as well as how we all perceive sociological pressure to assume paternalistic roles. It can also symbolize the cultural elite’s proclivity for suppressing those who would struggle against the Machine.”

[15:47] But we would have to learn to say it IN GERMAN.


[15:47] It’s like you’re inside my brain.

Pouty McSourgrapes




Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments »

Posted by Gin on February 10, 2011

Dear Colleague,

Please don’t judge me for watching a Puppy Yelping In His Sleep video when you walked up behind me unexpectedly. It’s, um, totally work-related.



P.S. Dude, you looked a little stressed anyway – you should totally watch it, it will make you feel better. And also want a puppy.

P.P.S. If you get a puppy, invite me over to play with it, because there is nothing better then Puppy Belly, but I really don’t want to deal with the more unpleasant aspects of puppyhood.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a Comment »

Posted by Gin on February 8, 2011

John and I were on the couch last night, watching TV, when a commercial for (the terrible-looking) movie “Hall Pass” came on.

Me: “Would you ever want a week hall pass from being married to me?”

J: “What’s a hall pass?”

Me: “It’s from that movie. I guess these guys start having a not-quite-midlife crisis re: their marriages, so their wives give them a week to live as bachelors again, so they can see what they’re missing. Or something. “

J: “If you gave me license to act like a bachelor for a week, I’d still come home, but I’d cook myself a big pot of chili to eat all week, probably scratch myself more, and leave toenail clippings wherever.”

Me: “Aw, baby. I love you.”

John will be on travel for work next week – leaving on Valentine’s Day (THE NERVE. You better bring me back something superawesome from Podunkcollegetown, Oklahoma). I’ll miss him and all, but I am looking forward to a few days of having the house to myself, so I am making a list of the things I plan to do while he is gone:

  • Watch the entire “Intervention” and “Hoarders” programming block, because I won’t have to listen to anyone complaining about how creepy and gross it is, and commenting on how I am on my 2nd glass of wine while watching a show about an alcoholic. I AM NOT THE ONE WITH THE PROBLEM, HELLO.
  • Then watching all elevendy-hundred hours of British period-costume dramas I have saved in my Netflix queue.
  • Leaving my shoes on the floor near the bedroom door, because NO THEY ARE NOT IN THE WAY THERE, YOU DO NOT WALK IN THAT CORNER.
  • Shoe shopping. That’s right, I went there.
  • Eating sandwiches or cereal for dinner most of the week.
  • Taking long baths and using smelly foofoo scrubby stuff and using up all the hot water.

John, you can leave your toenails wherever you bloody well please…in your hotel room, on the icy, frozen tundra of Oklahoma.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a Comment »