Swallow this

Here’s a nugget I actually wrote down while waiting to get my hair cut, because the magazine, which I can’t remember the name of, was a new one, and I just didn’t feel right about ripping out the article when I knew many other woman would be leafing through its pages while waiting to get their hair cut, and might find it as intriguing as I did.

It turns out that taking oral contraceptives -- currently used by more than 100 million women worldwide according to Wiki -- may diminish a women’s attraction to genetically compatible mates.

Okay, so what?

Well, it turns out, women who ovulate naturally prefer (subconsciously, of course) the scent of a man who has immune system genes that differ from her own, and a pairing of a such a couple is believed to promote fertility, and children with healthy immune systems.

But the pill, the glorious little pill, shifts women’s preferences toward the scent of men whose “MHC genes” are more similar to theirs.

In theory, at least, this could “lead to the breakdown of relationships when women stop using the contraceptive pill, as odor perception plays a significant role in maintaining attraction to partners,” states S Craig Roberts of the Newcastle University in England, who lead the study.

So, just think about this for one little minute, using the pill may actually be one of the causes of both (a) the rise of divorce and (b) the rise of allergies (did you hear that Mr. Peanut?) and other immune system disorders in our children! Who knew?

The solution, of course, is to come up with some non-hormone altering male form of contraception.

Bullshit tolerance

I just read something written by a pregnant woman that said "My bullshit tolerance is down to zero." I so hear that right now. I just don't have time for the shit. I feel as though I'm just trying to survive sometimes, so please, please don't throw any crap my way. I won't have it.

Just ask T, the father-to-be. We got into it good last night. I'm currently in no mood to play nice, or to make someone else feel better. I just don't have the energy or aptitude right now. You're on your own buddy. Fend.

It sounds mean, but that's all I've got in me these days. Present me with a real problem, and I'll do my best to deal with it, but something like, "I miss the old you" is not going to cut it. I miss the old me too, dude. Desperately. I'm hoping I can find her somewhere down the road. Today? Today is all about making it back into bed tonight.

Not another cracker

Ugg. I feel awful, and have for most of the day. Was it this bad last time? Or is it just my age? Yuck. I just want to feel good. Will I ever feel good again?

Yes, yes, of course I will. I know that, and I know I'm complaining; okay, more like being a sniveling baby, but seeing as though I can't (yet) complain to anyone but the father-to-be, I'm doing it here. Right now.

I'm sick of crackers.

Cat nap

Thaluck. That's what my mouth tastes like right now.

I'm not really sure what happened. I was feeling a bit tired, so I stretched out under my desk, just to rest for a few minutes, and the next thing I knew I was awakened from a deep sleep by my cell phone. It was little Rog calling, for my daughters. Man, was I disoriented.

I don't know how long I was out, I'd guess about 30 minutes? Again, I don't know. All I do know is that now I want to go straight home and crawl into bed. That is, right after I puke. Uck. This is the sickest I've felt. It's a lot of effort right now to not make a puckered, disgusted face, but my coworker just came in to inquire about how the temperature is in here, so I had to attempt it and do know it's possible.

I hate this feeling. And here I was thinking that I'm feeling much less bad than the other two times I've done this. Not even week 6 yet. Joy. And happy new year.