Thanks, you guys, for your suggestions on what I should watch next! Once I’m done with Californication (which I expect will be this afternoon), I’m going to give Madmen a try (I’ve been wanting to try it out, but kept forgetting to add it to my queue) and then maybe the United States of Tara. Eventually Dead Like Me, and The Tudors, and oh – just about everything y’all suggested!
So, one day last week I was looking around online for information about progesterone, and I stumbled across a q&a page about hysterectomies. And on this page was the following line:
Some women will ask: Can I still have children after my hysterectomy? The answer is no.
Really? “Some” women will ask this idiotic question? Do they perhaps mean “No” women will ask this question? Or maybe “drunk” or “high” women? I mean, come on – they have GOT to be making that up, right? Or maybe they misunderstood the question? Maybe women were like “Can I still ADOPT children after my hysterectomy?”, and instead of saying “Lack of uterus does not, to our knowledge, bar one from adopting children”, they just said “No.”, and the country is filled with uterusless women who are mourning the fact that they can’t even ADOPT.
(Speaking of, kinda, y’all see that woman on Dr. Phil the other day who was a surrogate and gave birth to twins and then kept them herself? I had to delete the show after four or five minutes because she was so utterly smug and unlikable and I found I wasn’t even paying attention to what she was saying, I was just thinking about how much I wanted to smack her.)
Seriously, can you imagine? The doctor’s all “Blah blah uterus blah blah incision blah blah no hanky panky for six weeks blah blah and THAT is how a hysterectomy is done! Do you have any questions?”
“Yes, doctor. My husband and I are really excited to start a family. How long must I recuperate after surgery before I can start trying to get pregnant?”
Doctor (looking around for hidden camera): “Did I mention that I will be removing your uterus?”
Patient: “Yes, yes, you said that already. Do you think I could get pregnant by the end of the year?”
Doctor: “Your uterus will be GONE. Did I mention? That you? Will have no uterus?”
Patient: “Frankly, your insistence on going on and on and ON about my uterus is kind of annoying. Can’t you just answer the question?!”
Doctor: “Where are you under the impression the baby will grow?”
Patient: “Really? You’re a DOCTOR and you don’t know this? Suddenly, I think you might not be the one for the job. OBVIOUSLY when an egg and sperm meet, the resultant zygote travels down the fallopian tube, then flies to heaven, where it grows into a baby, and nine months later, the stork brings it and drops it on your doorstep. I mean, seriously, Doc, this is elementary stuff. HOW did you graduate from med school without knowing it?!”
And so on.
Late last night I finished We Bought a Zoo, and while overall I’d give it a positive rating, it was really less interesting than I expected. Also, not NEARLY enough pictures.
But in the course of reading the book, the author mentioned that there was a camera crew filming the whole time while they were getting the zoo ready to open again, and ultimately a miniseries called Ben’s Zoo aired in the UK. I thought that it was likely the miniseries would be interesting, so I went to Netflix and searched on Ben’s Zoo, and. Well.
Y’all go to Netflix and search on Ben’s Zoo and see what comes up. It’s certainly NOT what I was looking for. Ugh.
I just went to weather.com to see what the weather’s supposed to do in the near future (the temperature’s supposed to slowly trend upward, or so they claim. I HAVE MY DOUBTS.), and this ad in the sidebar cracked me up:
The face is killing me. He’s like “Who in the what, now?”
Last weekend (speaking of weather, like I was up there just a second ago) was gorgeous and sunny. We actually went out into the back yard for a little while, and a handful of the cats joined us.
2009: That’s helpful.
2008: Every now and then the finch would flap his wings and squawk indignantly.
2007: No entry.
2006: I hate spoiled rotten princesses.
2005: “4.2 billion,” he said suddenly. “Not 4.7. Because a regular signed 32-bit integer only goes up just over 2.1 billion – that’s 2 to the 31st power – and an unsigned would be one more power of two onto that, so–”
2004: Is it easier to write bad poetry, or am I just naturally a bad poet (and didn’t know it)?
2003: Let’s see whether or not I can give Lisa what she wants!
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: Have you noticed that I feel like an idiot a lot?