Email me


Journal entries:




Sign up for email notifies:




How about "listening" instead for now, since the last thing I read was, um, an Us magazine. Because whatever happened with Denise Richards and Charlie Sheen? Is Demi really knocked up? Has Britney gotten fat from all those Fritos? I MUST KNOW!

Dresden Dollls, The Dresden Dolls

You will either love or hate this band, I don't think there's much of an in-between.

Jack Johnson, In Between Dreams

Nothing new here, if you liked Brushfire Fairytales it's pretty much the same stuff, but what great stuff it is.

Hem, Eveningland

I liked Rabbit Songs better, but this is still very good. Her voice is so soothing and beautiful.

Check out:

Whoah, man, those are some crazy beards. Also, how many of these can you guess correctly?


Sigh. Large-n-stretchy, my new clothing mantra.

Friday, March 18, 2005

There I was, just casually surfing some pregnancy-related websites, when I came across a first person account by a new mother who had happily EATEN part of her placenta after giving birth.


Okay, I know I maybe have some maturity issues here, and that I should embrace all the beautiful, miraculous, life-giving parts of the birthing process, no matter how, um, fleshy and blood-drenched they might be. O, placenta, iron-rich bag of hormonal tissue! How refreshing and tasty you must be, especially after an arduous labor, and -

Nope, sorry, still unbelievably grossed out over here. I have seen what the placenta looks like, okay? I don't care if that thing is chock-full of Demerol and Skittles, they can just whisk it right the hell out of my sight after it makes its glorpy entrance into the world. I do not want to freeze it, bury it, dry it and hang it on my wall, and I certainly do not want to EAT it.

Here is something else I do not want any part of: the Lotus birth. I'll just...wait while you read a bit from that page.

So, I know it's fun to accessorize, but maybe, just maybe, leaving the placenta ATTACHED to your newborn for "3-10 days" is taking things a little far? I guess you have to be BUGFUCK CRAZY really, really into the natural birth thing to make that work. Although, in this woman's case, she had some assistance from her older child: [Emma, who was 2, was keen to be involved in the care of her sister's placenta.]

"Mummy? Mummy, may I hold the placenta? Mummy, may I also have several years of therapy when I grow older, can I Mummy?"

Boy, I don't sound very tolerant, do I? I'm sorry, I know birthing choices are totally personal, and whatever works for the parents should be respected, and -

[The placenta....developed a slightly meaty smell, which interested our cat! ]



In other, hopefully less judgmental news, I feel AWESOME. I mean, the last few days I have felt no nausea whatsoever, I'm less zombielike from fatigue, and I'm sort of ridiculously upbeat in general. If this is what the second trimester is going to be like, then BRING IT ON LIKE DONKEY KONG.


We watched Ladder 49 last night, so that you wouldn't have to. Just...seriously, spare yourselves. You have been warned.


Jeez, I totally can't get the placenta-eating out of my head now. I'm like Bubba from Forest Gump: "Placenta is the fruit of the sea. You can barbecue it, boil it, broil it, bake it, sautee it. There's placenta kebabs, placenta creole, placenta gumbo, pan fried, deep fried, stir fried. There's pineapple placenta and lemon placenta, coconut placenta, pepper placenta, placenta soup, placenta stew, placenta salad, placenta and potatoes, placenta burger, placenta sandwich..."


JB leaves tomorrow for a week in Asia, so I plan to attend Chiara's fabulous 30th-birthday karaoke bash on Saturday night, then spend the rest of my weekend watching (for the 2nd time) both Shaun of the Dead and The Incredibles, painting my toenails, and possibly eating too many of those Easter-time Reese's peanut butter egg things. Aw yeah. You have yourself a lovely weekend, too, okay?

<- back ::: next - >