It’s simple. I’m an easy sell.

This is why I shouldn’t be allowed to spend my own money.

I blame her. I don’t remember her name. I feel horrible about that. But being bad with names doesn’t mean I blame her any less for the $29.99 I spent tonight. Because… well, you see the neatly shaped fruit on the counter?  And all the sliced vegetables.

Aren’t they so pretty?  I like pretty things.

And she announced there would be free things, too. And I did get the free knife that makes the v-shapes in the fruit. In fact, she gave me three of them.

That’s a good sign they really cost about $.20 a piece.

My v-shaped designs need a little work, but that’s definitely not an ugly green pepper.

I thought maybe the mandolin (the slicey thingy on the counter) would be cheaper (if not free, because she said we’d get more free things). But it was $30.

Plus the cost of the extra vegetables I bought to bring home and slice things, because what’s-her-name looked like she was having SO much fun doing it. Damn her.

Now I should probably figure out what the heck I want to make for dinner. It’s 10 pm and I haven’t eaten yet. Just sliced, diced and julienned vegetables for some unknown dish.

Oh, and the other free thing she offered?  It was a pair of kitchen shears. I already have a pair, but who doesn’t need two… right?


Living on a dime and a prayer…

How frugal slash disturbing is the following thought?


I came home and saw this shirt, laying on the floor of the bathroom, where most of my clothes hang out until I decide to wear or wash them, in no particular order. The dusty speckles? Mineral makeup that fell during the application process this morning. And a lot of it.

So the question becomes… is it wrong to just rub my shirt on my face in the morning so it doesn’t go to waste?

There are probably some thoughts I shouldn’t think out loud.

But mineral makeup is expensive. *shrugs*

Promiscuously Diverse

The story today that I just couldn’t shake has something to do with Grey’s Anatomy. And for this alone, let me apologize.

Shonda Rhimes, executive producer of ABC shows Grey’s Anatomy, Private Practice and Scandal, called out the new ABC Family television series Bunheads for i’s lack of casting diversity.

(See the story here:

Yes, everyone in the cast, and almost the entire town, is white.

Ms. Rhimes is famous for her “blind casting”– none of the characters she writes are of any specific race.  And she tweeted:

I have a couple of things I want to say about this. Carefully, is probably the best advice at this juncture.

First, I don’t disagree. The cast is entirely white. And diversity on television is important.

However… and hang with me here… Is it realistic to assume that the small town being replicated is incredibly diverse and would therefore have an abundance or even one black ballerina?

And if ASP were to adopt Shonda’s “blind-casting” bit, isn’t it entirely possible that they chose the best ballerinas for the show, and they all just happened to be white?

It’s fiction, so the small town could have been “created” to be diverse, I suppose. But I live in the real world and in the real world, I remember attending a school for seven years in which I could count the black students on one hand. And not a single one of them was in my ballet class. Or tap class. Or modern jazz class either.

I’m not saying the show shouldn’t have cast a non-white actor as a ballerina. But at the same time, how about we not force people to hire non-white people just so they can say “I have a non-white cast member.”  To me, forced diversity isn’t actually diversity at all.

And when they finally end up casting a black or Latina ballerina (because it’s an issue now and networks hate that) it’ll be because the decision was forced and not necessarily because the actress was the most talented for the role.

But my second point is really the one sticking to me today. Because hypocrisy in any form bugs me.

Ms. Rhimes daughter is 10 years old and I understand the importance of exposing her to diverse television.

And while I’m yet to be a mother, if you were to poll 100 Moms of daughters, black, white, green or purple and asked which show they’d prefer their daughters to watch, Bunheads or *Insert A Shonda Rhimes Show Here* hands down, Bunheads is going to win that race.

Because no matter how diverse Ms. Rhimes may be in her casting, I can’t imagine many Moms wanting their little girls watching shows like Grey’s Anatomy and Private Practice, where every episode someone is having sex or debating sex or cheating or thinking of cheating on their significant other. Where promiscuity not only becomes dominant features of every character and storyline, but also gives anyone admitted to a hospital pause when considering what STDs the doctor trying to touch them may or may not have.

But hey… at least those shows have diverse casts.

Priorities Mama Rhimes.

No Means No.

It’s June 18, 2012 and you’ve heard the news these past few days. But just in case the you who’s reading this is doing so in 2112, let me recap for you.

*please still be a website in 2112, youtube*

First, let’s stop to acknowledge how Rep. Lisa Brown is my favorite vagina owner of the month.

The Republican leadership of the Michigan House of Representatives banned her (and Rep. Barb Byrum, my former representative) from the floor of the house. Not because, in their words, she dared to say “vagina” but because she said “I’m flattered that you’re all so interested in my vagina, but no means no.”

They banned her because she equated the legislation, which would require women who wanted an abortion to provide proof that they weren’t coerced into ending their pregnancy (and may I ask… how does one prove that?) to rape.

Except she didn’t.

She did, however, equate this legislation to a woman being forced to do something against their will.

And while I struggle with how someone can possibly prove that no one at all discussed the option of abortion with a woman, much less how a woman is supposed to make a decision without information (which I get is more to their point…), I’m absolutely flummoxed by Republicans fascination with what goes on with my vagina. And apparently, their inherent fear of my vagina and it’s future path of destruction.

Dear Men: I have no such interest in your penises.  Nor do I choose to comment on your mass murdering tendencies. I mean… millions and millions of potential baby-making sperm die at your hand every single day. Perhaps if you were fined for every time you masturbate or had to pass some sort of government-issued test before you’re allowed to have sex, I’d be interested in hearing your thoughts on my vagina.

Anyway. The vagina discussions of the last week have led to some mighty fine moments, starring me, shouting “VAGINA!” whenever my brain decided to. Eventually, it occurred to me that my name sounds kinda-sorta-not-really-but-close to vagina and it would make an excellent title for a blog.

Which is how this page got its start.

So thank you to Lisa Brown for the idea. And may all the proud vaginas across this great nation remind all the douchebags we’re forced to share air with that No Means No and it’ll be a cold day in hell before I allow them to have say over my vagina.




See. Now they’re good and scared.