Dear Friends,
If you get eye-rolley over things psychic/intuitive then I’ll see you next week. Also if uterus and sperm talk isn’t for you, I’ll see you next week. Finally, if you feel threatened by the fact that some people have an extra hush-puppy-size brain*, feel free to sit this one out.
[cue: screen door slam, pan: empty parking lot, close up: tumbleweeds]
I just came from a visit with my acupuncturist Amy, who also happens to be intuitive—not “you seem like you’re having a bad day” when you show up with a black eye intuitive, but rather my organs have conversations with her out loud. I can’t hear them speak, but she can and she talks back to them. It sounds kind of like awesomely bad beat poetry. ANN’S ORGANS ON THE MIC, ‘YAWL.
I went to see Amy because I feel like things have been a little hormone crazy lately. By “things” I mean me, and by “crazy” I mean self-critical, and snacky. Acupuncture releases all of my stress, and helps restore balance. Plus, it can have amazing side-effects. When I used to go regularly, I completely lost my sweet-tooth for six months.
So after she got all the needles placed, Amy and my uterus had a gabfest. I’ll spare you the details, but basically there is some old stuff in my Uterus that needs to come out. Amy requested if it could come out without a whole bunch of cramping and my uterus basically laughed her ass off. She’s like “you want me to do this, but no pain please?”
Then Amy asked her if it is trying to make babies despite Minerva, my IUD. Uterus replied “NO. BABIES” and made horking up noises that made Amy laugh. She said she has never heard a sarcastic uterus like mine, which seemed appropriate–my stay-at-home-UTERUS. My uterus told Amy to go speak with my brain about babies, but first told Amy to tell me it loves me. Aww!
Amy went to talk to my brain and noticed right away that my brain isn’t like a lot of people’s brains. I know you are all shocked by this news. She said some people have a brain that reacts to things that happen in real life, and yes my brain does this. But it turns out I have something she pictured like an extra little brain on top of that normal brain that never stops. A FUN SIZE BRAIN! Maybe it’s like vacuumed-newborn heads that have a little extra skull hat for a few days. For My brain, she hath her own brain-beenie.
This made so much sense to me. It made me understand why right now—when I’m less crazy busy, my brain becomes more distracting. I think when my normal brain keeps busy I stay happily less aware of the always-buzzing brain hush puppy. When my normal brain gets to go on sabbatical, my mini-brain’s buzzing gets really loud and demands I eat an entire package of Trader Joe’s dried Green Mango. (Seriously, have you tried?)
If any of my family is reading this they are either nodding in commiseration due to their own snack-sized BOGO brains, or finding themselves increasingly concerned over my mental health. Also, you might want to stop reading now.
Then my brain warned Amy of Husband’s sperm. Apparently Husband’s sperm are the Mary Lou Retton of sperm—small, powerful, and with very strong quads.
Amy asked my brain about babies—”Why does Ann’s uterus want me to talk to you about babies?” My brain showed Amy that it does in fact still want babies, but—BUT–these are creative idea babies, not human babies. Apparently there are a lot of them. My brain is very protective of these ideas babies and that is why it is yelling at my uterus to BEWARE OF THOSE MARY LOU RETTON SPERM AND THEIR ALL-AMERICAN INNOCENT FEATHERED HAIR!
So that is my Monday update for the two of you still reading. I highly recommend Amy–she is the best acupuncturist in town–but no guarantees about the body talk thing. Not everyone’s organs are chatty. Also? I have an appointment to get my IUD checked.
*Popcorn shrimp and hush puppies comprised my favorite Red Lobster kids meal of my whole life.
I love intuitives. My primary care doc is one and it’s the best choice I’ve ever made.
I don’t know if my uterus is involved in any way, shape, or form but my brain does the very same thing! I swear there’s a gerbil running on the crazy wheel all day long. It’s white noise until I try to relax, then BOOM! Batshit crazy.
I talk to the backyard critters, especially the birds. My spouse often looks at me with great concern because he knows he’s the suckah who’s going to have to care for me in my too rapidly approaching dotage.
OK, so I forgot for a moment that we were in bloggy world, and was about to go grab the phonebook…for Syracuse, NY…and look up Amy…under A for Amy and Acupuncture, I guess!
See, now my problem?? I ONLY have the fun size brain. And it’s not very chatty.
Now I really wish I lived in Madison so that I could see your Amy myself. I so need some of that.
On another note: nice to know your brain is on the same wavelength as you, huh? It’s good to be 100% on the same page about whether creative idea babies are better than actual human babies or not. On the third hand, how funny is it that you and your brain might disagree about some things? Only possible if you have two brains. Also, kind of awesome.
I love this! and I hope Minerva is holdin’ down the fort.
I would love to draw a picture of your two brains.
I’m laughing at Malady’s comment about Minerva holdin’ down the fort.
My midwife was very intuitive, although I don’t think she ever had any actual conversations with my organs.
Also – this made me think there’s a stand-up routine here somewhere, with you on stage and the voices of your uterus and your brain booming in from offstage, a 3-way conversation. Confession, I totally stole that idea from Sarah Silverman who does a routine with her a-hole and her vagina (the latter voiced by my very own sister in law, actually).
(Ok, I think I’ve said enough. Sorry about that.)
I miss my accupunturist but not sure that I want to know what my uterus is saying these days.
“Snack-sized BOGO brain” is the best thing I’ve read all year.
Also…I want to know more about the old stuff your uterus is harboring. I think my uterus is doing the same, but it doesn’t want to talk to my brain about it. I think it’s talking to my bladder instead.
i’ll never look at hush puppies the same way again.
I KNEW we were two of a kind, Ann!
I went to a Mexcian man named Luis several times for readings. Loved him. He told me I had an ovarian cyst before I knew I had one. Also, the first day I met him, he insisted I had two sons, when at the time I had one. But now I have- you guessed it, two sons. I guess he could see Gus even when he was an egg, waiting calmly behind a cyst.
I think many Jews in fact have Hush Puppy Extra Fun Size with Dipping Sauce! Brain. They should test for it on the Jewish Panel. You know what shuts up my vestigial brain? Combat. I go and beat the shit out of imaginary people for an hour. Then gone. Bliss-out. Though needles might do the trick as well.
I kind of really would love to go visit Amy and see if she finds my organs to be chatty.
Amy is wonderful and all.
But, sheesh, you needed her to tell you you brain isn’t like normal people?
I could’ve done that for you two years ago.
ALSO: please have another baby.
Just do.
You won’t regret it.
It totally cracks me up that I SO relate to this post. I don’t even know Amy. But I do know I have an extra brain that is extra constant and it is so exhausting. Currently it thinks about my real baby AND my creative babies and it is SO crowded in there.
I knew this about you too. I mean, even if I didn’t actually know you, I’d be able to see it in your posts 🙂
Dude. I totally have that second brain. We are brain twins! WHEEE!
Oh and don’t listen to The Empress above. I’m with Minerva on this one.
I’m half and half with Minerva and the Empress, because you’re like super young, aren’t you? Like still in your 30’s? Anyway, this is one of my favorite posts EVER of yours because I’m so digging your fun-sized brain, like a mini-Mars bar. If someone put needles in me to talk to my uterus it would probably say Do.Not.Procreate.Any.More.You’ve.Done.Enough.Damage.
I read this and I’m just nodding along in agreement, because you are the most normal person I’ve ever met on the internet or anywhere else. I mean: You totally make sense to me. (which is a rare thing, seriously) But why did you have to trip me up with the popcorn shrimp. Why, Ann? Also I thought maybe you were another personality I didn’t know I had until you said you were off the sweets for 6 months. I don’t think, no matter how many personalities I would have, I could ever have one who was off the sweets.
Dude, you stick *me* full of pins and I guarantee *none* of my organs will be telling you they love you.
Word.
Does this mean that you ate your twin in the womb, but her brain is still around? If so, can we name your eaten twin “Cerebellum Lee”?
Mary Lou Retton Sperm – I’m dying. And also, your husband totally still wants babies, doesn’t he? It’s a conundrum, isn’t it? Because idea babies are just SO MUCH FUN, EVEN DURING THE FIRST THREE MONTHS.
I love the organ talk. And maybe I need acupuncture.
You’re going to have a baby! That’s so exciting. Oh wait – I may have gotten confused.
BUT!!!
Where did you end up finding that sweet tooth you’d lost?
Holy crap. Your uterus just told my brain to follow you, stat. Done. You are my kinda girl.
I always feel foolish when I declare a post of yours ‘my new favorite.” But I adored this one so much that it might be. It started out so awesome – the intuition/black eye line – GENIUS.
When you lost your sweet tooth, were those needles put in your mouth? Or in your ice cream tubs? Just wondering what is more effective. I’m in crash diet mode. NOW.
I have sincerely never read anything like this.
And … I think I’d like to see Amy. She will probably say my organs are retarded. And I’m sorry for not being PC.
I am anxiously waiting to hear what your Minerva says. I have one as well, and lately its been screaming at people to “GET OFF MY LAWN!”
Except they weren’t people. It was garbage day, and they were trash bags.
Hope you’re feeling some balance soon.
Your uterus sounds like a very thoughtful, rational organ…like she’s got a good head on her shoulders, if a uterus had a head.
I was once told I had an exceptionally emotional uterus. She’s a total drama queen.
You’ve got quite a crowd in there. I have to say that I’m a little jealous of your hush puppy fun brain. I want one. I could carry it around in my golf bag.
Oh, and vascectomy. Seriously.
Cheers,
Casey
Hi, Ann!
This is my first time here, and I love your writing style! Unique and hilarious. I can’t wait to read more.
Idea babies are so cute and cuddly in their infancy. You don’t even mind when they keep you up all night and leave you baggy-eyed and exhausted.
The sibling rivalry between my idea babies and human babies is getting on my nerves, though. They simply can’t get along, as each appears to be threatened by the other’s mere existence.
I really enjoy all your post.. i can’t help laughing out loud after reading this..your style is very unique.
self-critical and snacky? you just summed up my entire life. Tell your husband’s sperm to get their own damn cereal box and leave your box alone so that you can compose a limerick about an Astute Acupuncturist named Ann…
Huh, maybe that’s why my new OB was using the speculum as a bullhorn?