With the departure of my partner in crime, good ol’ Mushroom Printing just isn’t the same.

You can find me here: http://burlapcondoms.blogspot.com

I promise not to write about my vagina too much.

I’m sure all 547 spambots who read this blog have noticed that I have been absent from here for, oh I don’t know, several months now.

It’s not that I don’t have fondness for this place, I do, but I have new digs, and being there takes up an awful lot of my time. Time that may be better devoted to my vagina, but I’m kind of done talking about it all the time. Maybe this is me (finally) growing up, or maybe I’ve just talked it all to death.

I don’t speak for Stimpy, I speak only for myself. And no matter what, for now, the archives will remain intact, because it’s still amazing to reread all of the crap we’ve written. About nothing.

But for now, this is Ren, signing off.

Good night, and good luck.

I have just read an article on Britney Spears for the umpteenth time this week. Of course I did. I love celebrity gossip. It’s my crack.

As much as I loves me my trainwrecks, I would like to make a request on behalf of the rest of the world: Shut the fuck up about Britney Spears. Seriously. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Now.

Now, I loves me my trainwrecks as much as the next person, and yeah, when this shit started, it was pretty funny. But I’m totally sick and tired of hearing about it. I’m sick of the media coverage of her, I’m sick of the media coverage of Dr. Phil (who, let me be the first to say, I’ve never been a fan of to begin with), I’m sick of the bipolar speculations (which I’ve been speculating for years. HELLO? Are you OUT THERE???), and I am especially sick and tire of the sanctimonious blog posts that read along the lines of, “I’ve kept my mouth shut, but now I have to open it to tell you what a bunch of celebrity-obsessed losers you are and YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED.”

Fuck you all. You know what you should be ashamed of? Do you really want to know? BECAUSE PEOPLE, I WILL TELL YOU.

You should be ashamed of following this story and not using this as a lesson to educate the rest of the world on what bipolar disorder is. Fuck, dude, when PETA thinks they’re being too mean, it’s time to back off. Seriously. Stop the madness.

I am making three changes in the New Year:

1. Carry more cash. For anyone who’s ever been out with me, you probably already know that I’m Queen Credit Card. Now, while I don’t carry a balance (ever) on said credit cards, I often get the bill and wonder if I need to really visit Binny’s that many times in a month. I need to learn to handle real bills again.

2. Try new bars. While I do keep the local neighborhood pubs in business, I am constantly preaching that there are a bazillion other places around. I need to visit one or two of them.

3. Call more often. I have been terrible about this lately, and for that, I am sorry. I promise, more unsolicited contact in the New Year.

And just to show you how serious I am? Here is something from the 80s. You know, the last time I carried cash:

1. What did you do in 2006 that you’d never done before?
I celebrated Genghis Khan’s birthday and I had someone thread me through with a camera for the specific purpose of looking at my pooper.

2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
*giggle* No. What, are you fucking kidding me?

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Yes, Ren did. Do you not read this blog? HOW COULD YOU NOT KNOW THAT?

4. Did anyone close to you die?
Yes; I lost my grandmother to old age and high blood pressure in April and my cousin to complications with thyroid cancer in February.

5. What would you like to have in 2008 that you lacked in 2007?
A vacation.

6. What countries did you visit?
I had a disappointingly travel-free 2007.

7. What date from 2006 will remain etched upon your memory, and why:
7/7/07: I had a truly fantastic birthday. Thank you, Senator Bones.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Surviving it.

9. What was your biggest failure?
I don’t know that I can come up with any bona fide failures this year, unless you call my mountain of parking tickets “failures.”

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Not particularly, no.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
I spent a good deal on home furnishings this year, so in no particular order: Paint, two beautiful couches, and a dining room table. Oh, and two really cool retro lamps. And a Wii.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
My kid sister, who I never mention here. She’s really fucking awesome.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Last year’s answer: Ren’s, of course. Duh. No, really, nobody bothers me more than Britney Spears and Michael Jackson. Except, perhaps, the lovechild of Britney Spears and Michael Jackson, who actually will be born with a 666-shaped birthmark.

I’m tempted to stick with this, however, for as appalled as I was by The Britney this year, her mother takes the freaking cake.

14. Where did most of your money go?
Property tax.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
The Christmas present Bones won’t admit he got me.

16. What song will always remind you of 2006?
Justin Timberlake’s SexyBack. That song is freakin’ awesome!

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder? Push.
ii. thinner or fatter? Push.
iii. richer or poorer? Push.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
TAKEN MORE TIME OFF.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Last year’s answer: Work.

I’ll go with that.

20. How will you be spending Christmas?
The same way we did last year: running like fools. FOOLS, I SAY.

21. There was no #21. I don’t know why there was no 21.
Last year’s answer: Let’s call it a free-for-all question, then: “What big plans do you have for ‘07 that you didn’t have in ‘06?”
I’m planning on hosting Thanksgiving next year, actually. Which means that I have to find a dining room table first. Oh, and learn how to cook. Oops. I’m comfortable with ordering pizza for Thanksgiving. Any objections?

Yeah, that totally didn’t happen. We ran like fools on Thanksgiving. I’m working on a tropical vacation for 2008. I have earned it.

22. Did you fall in love in 2006?
Not with anyone new, no. I’ve still got the same boy I did last year, and I still love him. In fact, I called him just last night to tell him how much I appreciate being in a relationship where the only consistant fight we have is about whether or not the Apollo Moon Landing took place.

23. How many one-night stands?
I’m not sure; how many fingers am I holding up?

24. What was your favorite TV program?
nip/tuck. If you don’t know, YOU JUST DON’T KNOW, OK??

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
Oh yeah.

26. What was the best book you read?
I don’t know if I’d call it the “best,” but I did finally manage to get through The Fountainhead. It only took me seven years.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Okay, every blogger must have her junkie, right? Ren has The Britney, I have Amy Winehouse. Seriously, she’s effed up, but she’s a gigantic beehive full of talent.

28. What did you want and get?
There was that thing that we were waiting for but that I can’t tell you about.

30. What was your favorite film of this year?
PIRATES!!!

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you (optional)?
My wonderful, wonderful boyfriend reserved us dinner and dancing on one of the Lake Michigan cruises, then we watched the Navy Pier fireworks from the boat. Seriously, it was one of the best birthdays of my life, and even though the pictures of the event are shit, I’m so thrilled that we went.

I’m 27 this year. The official countdown to 30 has begun.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Less stress, I think. This was a hard one.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2006?
“What fits?”

34. What kept you sane?
The Wii’s boxing program. It is SO SATISFYING to come home and beat the crap out of something.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
I love David Beckham. Seriously, what did I do before David Beckham?

36. What political issue stirred you the most?
To be totally honest, I’m not sure. I just hate politics so much.

37. Whom did you miss?
Miss Kate, who won’t come back, and Ren, who I never see.

38. Who was the best new person you met?
I just don’t know.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2007:
I love you, baby, but get the fuck out.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
How about a TV quote?
“Oh, no.” ~Elliot Reed, Scrubs

Your mother just claimed your “Mom of the Century” award.

Says my friend to me the other day, “Hey, I have question for you. I’m going out on a first date with this guy and the date’s at 8. Do you suppose we’re getting dinner or should I eat before?”

The answer I gave: “Probably eat something small.”

The answer I wanted to give: “Have you no concept of how long it’s been since I’ve been on a date*, let alone a first date, let alone a blind first date? What makes you think that I have enough game to advise you how to date some guy I’ve never heard of before? My God, I don’t even remember what goes on on a date, or how to prepare for a date anymore. HAVE YOU NO IDEA OF HOW OLD I REALLY AM?”

* Okay, so it’s been three weeks since I walked in from work and my wonderful, wonderful boyfriend was dressed in full James Bond attire and informed me that we had swank dinner reservations (he is, I swear, the most wonderful man ever), but before that it was only what I could describe as being a long ass time!!!

I was just shopping online for a holiday present for my 90 year-old grandmother who has everything and wants nothing. I was using Overstock.com’s gift finder. I entered “Woman, 65+” and for interests, I selected “Cooking & Home.”

And do you even what to know what they suggested I get my GRANDMOTHER for Christmas??????? (Hint: NSFW)

Since I date a Certified Geek ™, it is required that I make multiple trips to Fry’s each year. If I were the type to complain about this, I would tell you that going to Fry’s is much like making a pilgrimage to the Old Country to see the Pope or something. However, Fry’s is–shockingly–not a place I complain about visiting. I friggin’ love going to Fry’s. Any store that has a Girlfriend Section is a good store by me.

No, really. Each of our trips to Fry’s start the same way: we wander through the Cool Toys section and I lament silently that I don’t have biological nieces and nephews to spoil. Then we wander over to the portable hard drive section, where Bones says, “Wow! A terabyte of memory!” (and what he really means is “Wow! Have you any idea how much porn I could download onto a terabyte-sized hard drive?!”) By the time we get to the power meter section, however, I am completely burnt out on HardCore Geek Stuff, and I prefer to go back to Geek Lite and look at toys, appliances, books and Wii games.

This, friends, is where I always run into trouble.

You see, at birth, I had a Dork Magnet implanted in my ass. If there is a Certified Dork within 100 yards, he’s going to be attracted enough to come talk to me. And me, well, I was raised to be polite. Look people in the eye. Smile. Nod yes or no. Geeks take this as a sign of attraction. Wow, a real-live girl is talking to me! they say. Then they invite me to meet their parents. This is how I ended up breaking the heart of an autistic co-worker (NOT ON PURPOSE), but that, kids, is another story for another day. It’s one of the many reasons I will end up burning in hell. Regardless, whenever I am accosted by a Dork, Bones does absolutely NOTHING to save me. No “Hey, buddy, that’s my girlfriend. Go talk to your CPB 340.” or whatever. I would appreciate a little saving sometimes. Just saying.

Over the summer, we went to Fry’s to look for a new motherboard for Bones’s computer (where we ran into another Certified Geek with extra cool and bored wife in tow) and nearly got away Dork free. As we were leaving the store, I paused to dig for my sunglasses. At that moment, a Dork noticed and said something like “Did you lose something?” to me. Polite, right? Normal, right? And so, without thinking, I replied something like, “No, I just found my sunglasses. Thanks.” Polite, right? Normal, right? Well, the guy followed Bones and me to my car, talking me up and down about how he’d like to go out sometime and did I have a sister and what kind of car did I drive. For his part, Bones laughed at me silently while I gave him pointed “HELP ME” stares.

He told me later that I had “earned it” and that he couldn’t go against his own kind. (AND NONE OF YOU BELIEVE ME WHEN I TELL YOU HOW MEAN HE REALLY IS TO ME. BELIEVE THIS, MOTHERFUCKERS.)

As we made our way to Fry’s again over the weekend so that we could purchase his Christmas gift, Bones was kind enough to remind me of the incident and to strictly warn me not to speak to anyone about anything the whole time we were at Fry’s. Unless, of course, I wanted a repeat.

We were not three minutes into our journey (and in the middle of the Cool Toys) section, when I spotted a Transformer. I loved the Transformers when I was a kid, but this was an actual electronic RC-sized car that automatically transformed into a robot. This thing was cool. So, channeling my inner 3-year-old, I said, “Bones! Look! A TRANSFORMER!!!”

I swear to you, I didn’t see the Dork behind me until the words were out of my (big fat) mouth, and when I turned around to gauge Bones’s reaction, I immediately regretted it. The Dork seized upon me. I swear to you, these were his exact words: “Yeah, Transformers were cool but Go Bots were better. Do you remember GoBots?” I heard Bones start laughing. I smiled nervously and shook my head ‘no.’ “I’ve still got my original GoBots in my mom’s basement. The Transformers were only on for a season. Do you wanna come see?” By this time, Bones was openly laughing at me from an aisle down.

I said, politely, “No, thanks.” I began inching toward Bones in the terabyte hard drive section.

“Well, that’s OK. I’ve got tons of other toys. Hey! Do you need a hard drive? I can help you pick one out.”

“No! Thanks!” I was just about running by this point. I caught up with Bones pretty quickly. Bones had, of course, heard the whole thing.

“You just have to learn to be meaner to these guys. Unfortunately, most women (a) don’t go in to Fry’s, and (b), the ones who do aren’t terribly nice to them. You talk to them, therefore they think that they have a shot with you. That guy’s going to go home tonight and post on his blog about how he nearly talked to this girl and she was in to Go Bots and how she was totally ready to take her clothes off right there in the store because she was hot for his transformer and how he bets that if only he could have really talked to her, she would have been all about his collection of Magic cards, too.”

And in that moment, I redeemed myself, if just a little bit. “What in the hell is Magic?”

It didn’t take me long to realize that Bones was directionally impaired, and it has been a minor source of contention in our relationship for years. It frustrates me to see him take the same tired routes over and over again without bothering to learn or explore new ones. It frustrates me when he’s 25 minutes late to something because he didn’t know what exit to get off at. It kills me that I can’t tell him that I live north of work, and that he can’t translate that into taking 90/94 to Wisconsin from 55.

For the most part, I ignore most of this, and deal with it by doing all the driving in our relationship. If you’ve ever been in the car with me, you know that this is not a terribly excellent solution as I’m what you’d call “frightening” behind the wheel. Britney Spears ain’t got nothin on me. However, Bones is only slightly less frightening, but less, in this instance, is more. Neither of us should drive on a good day, and when we’re fighting about directions, well, the whole thing just goes to hell.

Based on the recommendation of a coworker, I went with Bones to Fry’s (that’s another story for another post) and we examined and purchased a street navigator thingie (that’s the technical term)–a Garmin Nuvi 350 with GPS and text-to-speech–for Bones for Christmas. Yes, going with him takes some of the surprise out of this, but any gal dating any geek knows that she can’t buy the geek anything electronic without said geek’s consent. In any case, Bones tells me that this thing is the iPod of portable GPS systems: small enough to fit and go anywhere. He tells me that he will never be lost again.

Now me, I scoffed a little at this purchase, but it is for Bones and if he really thinks that this is going to help with his “problem,” well, I’m all for it. Me, now, I don’t need GPS. I’m like a homing pigeon.

Not two days after said trip to Fry’s, I got insanely, ridiculously lost on a detour to the dentist’s office. I was so lost that I had to pull off to a gas station in order for someone at the gas station to tell me how lost I was. My first thought? “Damn, I wish I had the Garmin.”