da dooce

This will have to be a quickie because in an hour Brian and I are heading to Chicago for the weekend, but I wanted to report that the Dooce reading was everything I hoped for and more! She had a severe Southern twang and told stories between reading excerpts from her website and book, one which was strictly about sex in the wake of lady-parts damage from childbirth...one of the few times when vagina gets funnier when it's repeated 1,607 times in 5 minutes. Everyone should be proud to know that I managed to plug my motormouth when I met her, and we successfully exchanged a nice little dialogue about Memphis without pee visibly dripping down my leg. 

Two particularly interesting things from the reading: 1) The audience was noticeably...how do I say this...homely. What about Dooce strikes a chord in women who hate makeup and hair ties? I hesitate to explore this too much for fear of what it says about me...moving on. 2) I once again fought the urge to CRY when the woman walked onto her little half-ass stage. This same thing happened when I saw Stephanie Klein in person. I have no earthly clue what about a 7-month pregnant ex-Mormon makes my tear ducts go ka-boom, but I had to focus all my energy on breathing in and out so as not to look like a complete ass in front of the hundreds of women (and four men) who were there. Although I guess it wasn't just me; the woman next to me said to her friend "I feel like I'm a kid waiting at the door of a chocolate factory!" First I thought she was a little awkwardly crazy, then I realized she was kind of right, and then I punched her in the face for talking about chocolate in front of me. Amen for the end of Lent on Easter Sunday and the chocolate Jesus I expect to find in an Easter egg! Maybe then my Frosty dreams will stop.