Kuiper Sophie Smith was born on 1/13 weighing 7 lbs. 4 oz. and standing 20 inches tall. She’s perfect and we’re all on a babymoon.

And for inquiring minds and their wanting to know…

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kuiper_belt

There has recently been of rash of sexed-up marketing in the library world. A few weeks ago, Wyoming Libraries caused quite a stir in the profession (both pro and con) with their “Mud Flap Girl” marketing campaign. This week, two additional sexed-up marketing campaigns have been revealed by American Libraries magazine. First, a personal crusade by a youth services librarian in Bend, Oregon who skates for the the Lava City Roller Dolls team “12-Gauge Rage,” under the name “Dame Deviant.” She sports a sign on the backside of her uniform that reads, “Support Libraries.” Nicely Done! Next was a story about marketing the Penn State Altoona’s Eiche Library. The library staff decided to sponsor a booth at the school’s annual health fair. They wore wore bright blue, “Sex On Campus” T-Shirts, and gave away hundreds of condoms over the course of the event. It was such a successful community outreach project, that they intend to double the number of laptops they brought for next year because so many people wanted to take the interactive sex quiz that the librarians crafted. Rock On!

In the eighth grade I wore a pastel pink blazer, a la Miami Vice, to my Catholic confirmation. Crockett and Tubbs popularized the look and it was socially acceptable for a young man to don such garb. Those days have passed I guess, but two young men stepped up and took the heat off a 9th grader who wore pink to his new school.

The Chronicle Herald has the story.

Well, I am finally feeling up to posting.

As you may or may not know, Greg and I are expecting. A baby. And to win the lottery, because, like the man says, you can’t win if you don’t play. Anyhow, some background: we decided we wanted more children about six months ago and when I went in for a pre-conception visit, I was sidelined by the whole “having cancer” thing. Well, six weeks after my successful treatment, my OB gave me clearance for take-off and I immediately got pregnant. I also knew immediately because — and I am not kidding here — I started having pregnancy symptoms TWO DAYS after conception. And, unlike my prior pregnancies, I have symtoms of every stripe — sick sick sick, sore and growing boobies, being worn out from taking naps, emotional to the point of absurdity, and others that I’m sure I’ve now acclimated to and hardly notice.

I am, as of today, five weeks pregnant. I go in for my first appointment with my OB on May 22nd, the day before I leave for an extended holiday. I feel compelled to tell you about my OB: I love him. And I don’t mean like, “I respect his work,” or “he is highly competent and has a wonderful bedside manner.” I mean, like love love. He makes me have cartoon hearts in my eyes. His name is Tommy and he is a personal friend of mine (I interned for him when I was in school and thought I wanted to be a doctor. Kids, huh?) I think Greg may love him, too, because, when he came back into the recovery area after I had my surgery, he hugged Tommy and said, “Thank you for taking care of her. You’re my hero.” And I’m pretty sure I saw cartoon hearts in his eyes, too.

Here’s some other interesting bits:

We have already picked out names for girls and boys.

Girls: 1st place: Xiaolin

2nd place: Ella

Boys: 1st place: Finn

2nd place: Carroll

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I will be delivering at this hospital and this will be my room. I will opt for the suite if it is available because I am a hedonist and none of my pleasures are guilty.

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My due date (per my last period) is January 11, 2008. The ultrasound I will have on the 22nd will either confirm this date or set a new one based on the fetal development.

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We’ve told all of our friends and family and everyone is positively giddy.

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It is momentous, friends, making a child with a person that you adore.

Yours In Puke,
Mel

Those clever Danes have found a way to keep kids from dropping out before graduation.

Friends! Lycanthropes! Misfits! Children of God! I come bearing good tidings of good things that are good!

My surgery went okay — thanks for asking, K. The path report came back and they got all of the cancer. The pharmacist at my local Walgreens, upon filling a prescription for me, said, “Wow! Congrats! You’re a cancer survivor!” I told her that we prefer to be referred to as “cancer victims” and not “survivors” but I think my humor noir was lost on her. She’s just a pharmacist! Sheesh! It would be asking too much of any person to count pills all day and have a keen eye for jokes made in poor taste. Be reasonable.

Anyhow, the procedure itself was only minorly painful (ed note: I do have a freakishly high tolerance to physical pain so your mileage may very vary.) The worst part of the whole thing was that I was prohibited from doing the s-e-x word (at least in my baby cave) for three weeks post-op. This pretty much guarantees that I’ve grown a new freshness seal (hymen, in some circles.)

Anyhow, about that three weeks? If you were keeping track, you would know that it ends tonight.

So. See ya!

(p.s. just foolin’ about the YouTube tag)

And that’s the best part of having cancer — getting to spring it on people. I found out in February that I have cervical cancer — carcinoma in situ — which means, basically, that I have cancer but it hasn’t broken out of my cervix yet. I tried to hang on to the fact that what I have is not truly classified as frank cancer because it hasn’t invaded the surrounding structures, but my doc assured me that the cells appear cancerous under a scope. I gots the cancer, even if it is only in one of my reproductive organs. So, I go to have the better part of my cervix removed next Wednesday.

It would be a fair assessment to say that I am kind of devestated about this because I’d really like more children. And while having carcinoma in situ doesn’t preclude fertility or successful pregnancy, the procedure that I have to have done to get rid of it will negatively impact my ability to maintain a pregnancy, were I to release a mature egg that became magically, magically fertilized and then mysteriously implanted itself into my endometrium.

So, girls! Don’t be a prodigal daughter — get your pap on and get it on once every calendar year! I missed one annual exam (2006) and let me offer you my most resolute assurances — I wish I hadn’t. I’ve had “abnormal” paps before and even had to have some biopsies, but I never expected to have carcinoma in situ at 26. The crazy thing is that I tested negative for HPV — the prom queen of carcinogens. Sure, lots of things can predispose one to cervical cancer, but in my demographic, I think HPV is assumed with that diagnosis. My doctor said that, in all likelihood, my prediliction for the tobacco had something to do with the change in the cells. This, of course, came as a huge surprise, since I had no idea smoking was bad for you. </deadpan>

So, there that is. I have cancer but I won’t have it in a week or so because, with any luck, I’m going to have it all removed on Wednesday.

Kisses!

There’s a researcher in my field (info sci) who has been studying the info needs of female police officers going undercover as prostitutes. What do they need to know in order to blend in? … to feel safe, yet really pass as prostitutes? I thought about that research today when I ran across this product (on a shoe blog actually): GPS platforms, being marketed to sex workers.

It made me curious about the info world of sex workers - these shoes are obviously being marketed on the ‘Net. Do sex workers surf the web for supplies and products? Of course they do. And do they share web URLs with one another? Probably. Are there blogs and online magazines they read to keep up on the latest…? I bet.

You hear that everything is on the web. Sometimes I try to force my brain to think of things it would not think to look for. The idea that “You don’t know what you don’t know” has always made me crazy.

I got my wisdom teeth out today, all four impacted beauties. I do not expect it to go nearly as well as Zandra’s and this is because I fully expect to have at least one dry socket. And despite my vicious come-downs from the hydrocodone, I have really tried to keep a sense of humor about this. In fact, when I was writing the check for the procedure, in the “for” section of the check (you know, the memo section?) I wrote: the exact price of human agony. I also thought of a funny exchange I really wanted to have with my dentist, but I got too groggy to remember to have it. It was going to go like this:

Doctor: Well, Melissa, do you have any questions?

Me: Yes, a few. First of all, how long until I can eat solid foods?

Doctor: About a week.

Me: Okay, and how long until I can workout?

Doctor: Also about a week.

Me: Brush normally?
Doctor: A few days.
Me: Chew gum?

Doctor: A few weeks.

Me: Fellate?

According to this article in the NYT, “Circumcision appears to reduce a man’s risk of contracting AIDS from heterosexual sex by half, United States government health officials said yesterday, and the directors of the two largest funds for fighting the disease said they would consider paying for circumcisions in high-risk countries.”

I don’t know how valid this is, it certainly doesn’t mean one can have unprotected sex, but it’s interesting, that’s for sure.