December 18th, 2008 | 17 Comments »

Sometimes, it’s tough to dredge up a post involving search terms for me, because a lot of them are similar. So when I see one that is mildly intriguing, why I just paste it into my editor and save it until I get a few I can reply to. Here is the current crop. Do you notice a theme?

i fart a lot never poop A fart is your body’s signal that a poop is imminent. Ignore it at your peril, and periodically produce painful, rock-like waste matter.

punishment for farting See above. That? Is punishment.

funny poopy It must be the 10 year old boy in all of us, but yes.

does colonic irrigation stop me farting No, it doesn’t. But it does make your magnificent farts visible

“hair in rollers” Just don’t sleep in them. Painful.

cleaning the house naked Yes. But no cooking with hot oil or bacon. Ouch.

“sex with shoes” How would you obtain the consent of said shoes? And what kind of a fit would that be anyway? (Tab A, Slot B, I don’t think so)

skinny bitch real? One hundred percent real. I read the stories to her and she congratulated me on my excellent memory. Only thing changed is the name.

i know i can be a bitch Don’t worry. Even bitches have friends. Usually people who enjoy being pushed around and yelled at for no reason.

Posted in search terms
December 3rd, 2008 | 13 Comments »

I’ve been meaning to comb through my comments for gems quite a while now, because some of them are wicked good. The winner gets to display this awesome award, painstakingly crafted by Loralee and she only used it like twice, probably when she realized how time consuming it was to go through comments, cut and paste comments and links. It is. But I loves you all.

Ree comments:

Cute new header lady. ;-)

And I’m not sure how Mrs. Andy would feel about you telling the world that Andy’s horn is tootable, but I think it’s pretty tootable, too.

Andy responds to my numerology post:

I used to have a friend who swore by numerology..

she used to say ,”oh 14!, my 54 stupid **@!ss 12266?

Knudsey has his say on numerology:

And then you do the hokey pokey, numbers are for the weak learn how to get the winning lotto numbers then I’ll be impressed.

She has to give them to me in order for me to be impressed by the way.

The Overthinker reports on my Thanksgiving post:

I ate so much yesterday, I’m fairly certain I saw a drip of gravy come out the corner of my eye.

Kelly gets me giggling:

THat is why I am too scared to check for updates. Cause if my blog goes down I am certain that that is the day that Dooce will come and declare her undying love for me and I can go all ‘meh, I don’t care for your Dooceyness’

But looking good here chicky babe

The Overthinker, once more:

Shut UP! ShutupShutupShutupShutup!!! I am so blown away by your dedication!! Do you get some letters to put after your name now? Like MD, DDS, RN? But maybe Grace, PWIYR (poop-won’t-interrupt-your-reading)

Honourable Mention goes to Christy, who left no blog address:

Sometimes when doody calls duty calls….

The clear winner is Nan, responding to my poop post

“I see the seven of swords… no wait… *wipe, wipe* make that six…”

It’s always about poop, innit?

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Posted in Peep of the Week
February 1st, 2008 | 15 Comments »

I really enjoyed checking Miguelina’s blog out in order to formulate some questions to ask the author. She doesn’t post daily, so her archives didn’t take me forever to read, but were very good reading. For anyone who hasn’t signed up yet, Neil at Citizen of the Month has instituted the Great Interview Experiment . Get on board! It’s fun, and you get to read a new blog. I wish I had such a genius idea.

1. I’m not sure I got all of your archives. July and August 2006 were a bit wonky for me. Are you embarrassed about your first posts? What compelled you to start blogging?

I decided to start blogging so I could become rich and famous.

OK, maybe not – the truth is that as a new mom I was entertained so much by blogs written by much more talented women than I’ll ever be – women who manage to make the ordinary extraordinary – that I decided I wanted to do it too, even if I never quite get to extraordinary. I’m having a blast just having a reason to write.

As far as my first posts – I’m actually quite proud of those posts. So much so that I’m slowly republishing them. I never blog about anything I wouldn’t say in front of my parents – that’s been my policy from day one – so I have nothing to hide. I took a blogging hiatus over the summer of 2006 – during that time I redesigned the site and took down all the content – which is why the site looks wonky. It didn’t help that I was suffering through morning sickness and spent an entire month in Austria being taunted by raw dairy and wine.

2. Besides your loved ones, what is it that fills you with happiness?

I also love beauty potions, uncluttered rooms, white peonies and Boxer dogs.

3. If you had a do-over, what in your life would you do differently?

I would have taken more chances. It’s true what they say, you regret the things you didn’t do much more than the things you did.

4. Can you explain to newer readers why you changed your blog name from Diary of a Reluctant Housewife to Miguelina?

I always hated my middle name (Miguelina), so when I got married, I jumped at the opportunity to change my name and dropped Miguelina in favor of my maiden name. Then I started to miss it. I decided to drop the Reluctant Housewife name and use my old name because it feels more like me – probably because it was my name for 27 years.

I also got sick and tired of getting hits from people looking for housewife porn. Those people are relentless.

5. What blog post surprised you most with the response to it?

Hmmm…I guess the delurking post. I loved hearing back from my readers – and learning that most of them don’t even have blogs (yet).

6. What were your dreams for yourself when you were a child? Did you see yourself married with children?

I always assumed I would be married with children – but I never, ever thought I would be a stay-at-home mother. I wanted to be a zoologist, like Jane Goodall.

It could still happen, right? Never say never.

7. I read only three posts mentioning poop. Don’t you know that poop is funny? Or do you consider it to be a cheap laugh?

Only three? Really? I don’t think poop posts are a cheap laugh; on the contrary, I think it takes incredible skill to do a good poop post. A skill I clearly lack.

8. Did you have other blogs that you abandoned before you started this one? Care to share details?

Nope, no other blogs. I used to contribute to Girl’s Guide to City Life, but had to stop because I don’t get out as much now that I have two kids. Otherwise I write at New England Mamas, Everyday Treats, Aisledash and at my personal blog. That’s enough for one person I think!

9. What do you love about Boston? How do you relate to Bostonians? The food?

It’s funny you should ask that…I had my Dirty Water post in my queue so I think that one answers this question.

10. What is your absolute favourite food to eat? Don’t say Sachertorte.

OK, not Sachertorte. I also love pulled pork sandwiches with coleslaw and baked beans.

11. Where do you see yourself when you and your husband retire?

We will probably be in Europe, hopefully Rome.

12. What is the wildest, craziest thing you’ve done?

I quit my job without warning – I hated it and knew I wanted out, but one day I was literally ill to my stomach and walked into my boss’ office and quit. She wanted to know where I was going next, and I told her the truth – I had no idea, but I knew it wouldn’t be brand management.

Then I called my husband to let him know.

Then I closed my office door and started to cry.

That night I took a pregnancy test, and it was positive.

13. Why do you equate new age with spacey?

Probably because I’m a spacey non-new age type!

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Posted in bloggy things
January 27th, 2008 | 29 Comments »

I was reading this post (freaking hilarious!) about colon hydrotherapy, which brought back memories of my own sessions. I was preparing for a group initiation into the energies of the Archangel Michael, and I wanted my body to be the clearest vessel possible.

What basically happens in this series of procedures is that the therapist slides a well lubed tube thingie into your backside. It has a device to connect two tubes on the outside, one for water going in to flush the system, the other for expelled matter.

Here’s the thing. I firmly believe that your backside is designed for egress, not ingress. In other words, nothing should be going in. I knew that these procedures would give me health benefits, but had a hard time getting past the method. So I paid in advance for the first four appointments. If I hadn’t paid up front for work down back, I probably wouldn’t have showed. I noticed results after that, so I showed up regularly.

The therapist was very shy, and spiritual. I expected she had heard all the jokes about what a crappy job she had, but I was determined to brighten her life with new ones. Because really? That’s just the kind of lovely person I am, making a shy woman squirm while I tell poop and fart jokes. No, you can’t reward me. I took down the donate button. Well, you could vote for me, or subscribe to my feed. I’m reliving awkward moments here, people. I can’t hear your applause, but I can see the numbers.

I used deep breathing techniques to allow the water maximum room to flush, and to alleviate the cramping that results from toxins being stirred up prior to expulsion. The toxins made me feel nauseous, but not throw up nausea, it was more in my bowel. I felt it a little with each flush. What I find funny is that my Grammie always called the indoor toilet the flush. Because she vividly remembers the other kind that did not flush.

What fascinated me most besides the bits of corn, turds, and recognizable food sloshing by in the egress tube, were the enormous air bubbles coming out the tube into the sealed container (so it wouldn’t offend your olfactory sensibilities). These things reminded me of the bubbles you get by dipping a broom handle with an attached loop into a bucket of detergent. They were That.Large. I had visions of little kids dancing in meadows, making bubbles of my farts.

I wanted to know how she could possibly deprive my family of such treasures. After all, Dances with Shrapnel had christened me Methane Mom. I had a lot to live up to. She made a choking sound, which passed for laughter masked by embarrassment. There was no getting this woman to laugh.

She was, however, very interested in the Archangel Michael group activation I was holding, and attended. She also came regularly to my group meditations/pot luck gatherings.

I often wondered if she could see those enormous fart bubbles in her mind’s eye when I was leading a meditation.

I never got a real belly laugh out of her. Doesn’t she know that poop is funny?

December 27th, 2007 | 13 Comments »

One of the characteristics of autistic behaviours is obsessions. Come to think of it, I just might be autistic myself. But this isn’t about me. Hah!

Ass Burger Boy was obsessed with toilets ever since toilet training began. I think I may have helped to fuel this obsession, since I was pretty eager not to clean up poop.

This obsession impacted my older sister, who had taken ABB to Sears and was thoroughly mortified when he demonstrated his big boy skills in the display toilet. I don’t think she praised him for it. Encouragement is critical during toilet training. It may have set him back a bit.

By sheer accident, I stumbled onto the “What’s in it for me?” method of motivating ABB. I swear I knew the instant he was toilet trained for real. I could see in his eyes the connection as he made it to being a big boy, toilet training, and another fascination of his, which was beards. Since every time he used the potty, I told him he was getting to be a bigger boy, it really clicked with him when I said that when he was bigger, he could grow a beard of his own, much preferable to feeling up the beards of random strangers. I swear I used all the creativity I could muster to motivate that chile.

During this very long period of time,we lived in a place with air in the pipes, and the toilet made a horrifying noise, which I tried to explain by telling him that the toilet needed to clear its throat. Yes, in hindsight, this was entirely stupid of me, but hey, the kid was terrified. Frankly, so was I. Terrified he would never come near a toilet again. I saw myself changing poopy diapers up to the time I might need mine changed. The noise it made sounded like a screechy ERRRRRR, so we made friends with it, and called the toilet Errr.

This led to a great curiosity about other people’s toilets. He wanted to find out if anyone else had a toilet with personality that he could befriend.

Every time we went to a place he hadn’t been to before, he would ask the inhabitants right away “What colour is your toilet?” followed by “Can I see it?” These are the questions he came up with after I had to hurriedly explain to him that only our toilet was called Errr, because of course, he asked to see their Errr, and they had no idea what the Errr he meant.

A few years after he was toilet trained, he asked less often to see people’s toilets, and he quit entirely asking them what colour their toilet was. I didn’t fully understand the perseverance of his obsessions, but was happy to let it go.

A few weeks ago, I asked him if when he goes to a new place, he makes it a point to use the bathroom.

Yes, yes, he does. He has just gotten more subtle with his obsessions as he has matured. And now, I have more mildly amusing stories, and less explanations to provide.