Ch-ch-ch-changes.

Back in college, I dated a fairly touchy-feely guy. When he drank, his need for PDAs bordered on obsessive. Of course, sometimes it was hard to know whether he kept his arms deadlocked around my neck as a sign of affection or just to maintain balance.

But in any case, one evening he became a little too friendly with Herr Jaegermeister. And like many who fall under the evil Jaegermeister's spell, he drank way too much of it. So much, in fact, that he booted all over my dorm room.

As he hung his head over the toilet, still periodically ralphing up bits and pieces of his dinner, I started to clean up the mess around him. He turned to look at me, smiled and said, "You are so beautiful. I'm sorry about this. Thank you for cleaning it up."

Then he somehow summoned the strength to throw his arms, covered in bits of bile and Jaegermeister puke, and try to hug me. He did make contact -- just enough to get even more vomit on me -- but as he sort of fell forward with the effort, I realized that his mouth was puckered. The guy had been going in for a kiss! A pukey, nasty, Jaegermeister-y kiss! I was horrified. And I'm not ashamed to say that the visual of him coming at me from the toilet, thinking a big, dribbly kiss was in order, might have had something to do with why our relationship didn't last.

But fast forward a few years to the birth of my son. On New Year's Eve, the little guy overdid it a bit himself. He was having so much fun running around with a bunch of bigger kids -- and stuffing his face with salsa dip -- that he seemed completely surprised when in the middle of running around the living room, it all came up on him. He stood still as he vomited, totally channeling the Exorcist in the force of his pukage, and looked over at me. And while he was still heaving, he walked over to me with his arms open wide. Not only did I pull him close to me and let him finish barfing all over my new silk top bought especially for the evening, but when he was done, I told him it was all right and kissed his still dripping lips. It didn't occur to me to do anything different.

It's funny all the ways that motherhood can change you.

Averting disaster.

"Do we have a lighter?"

"Ummm, there's one in the junk drawer, I think."

He rummages through the drawer. "Where? I can't find it."

I come over to look and am startled by his hands, which are sooty black and marking up my clean, white kitchen. "What the hell is that all over your hands?!"

"Gunpowder."

And he looked at me with the biggest "duh" expression ever. Because why wouldn't my husband be covered in gunpowder and looking for a source of fire?

Hope everyone had a wild, woolly, injury-free New Year's celebration!

Well, that didn't take long.

An amateur video (from a cel phone) was taken of Saddam Hussein's execution. And of course, it's already up on LiveLeak, among other sites.

Aside from being astounded at how quickly this has gotten up on the web (and of course, that they allowed cel phones in the room as well as let this dude obviously film it), it's got me thinking. It's really rather Orwellian, isn't it? I mean, Big Brother is watching in a sense, whether it be Saddam's hanging, Britney Spears' coochie-pop, or Paris Hilton bending over some sick kid in Australia. It's just that Big Brother is us and we are all too happy to record every moment, any moment to be used against the subject (and potentially us) in the future.

It's kind of scary, really.

What men should read instead of Maxim.

I've found a new site that has captivated me:

http://theshapeofamother.com/

It's all photos of women's bodies, pregnant and post-partum. I find myself visiting it quite often. I can't really turn away. I would like to say that it's because it's all empowering and shit, but the truth of the matter is, some of these photos make me feel better. I look at some and think, "Geez Louise, I don't look that bad. Pregnancy was kind to me!" And then I go upstairs and put on the skinny jeans that cut off circulation in my post-pregnancy ass and strut around the house until the lack of oxygen to my brain makes me dizzy.

But still, I think that both men and women should take a look at this site. Men, to realize that it's not helpful to tell your wife that she should get to the gym. Some changes to your body after having a baby are just not fixable. And second, for women, to realize that you are not alone and there are definitely women out there who would kill for your -- yes, your -- body.

It is done.

Saddam Hussein was executed. They sure didn't waste any time.

http://www.cnn.com/2006/WORLD/meast/12/29/hussein/index.html

This is the line that is of particular interest to me:

The execution was videotaped and photographed, state television reported, and those images will be distributed to the media.

Guess we'll be seeing it up on YouTube before we know it.

So now that it's done, how do you feel? Do you think justice has been done?

The making of a martyr.

New reports state that Saddam Hussein, whose appealed death sentence was recently upheld by the Iraqi high court, will hang this weekend. And, of course, Baathists are saying that the U.S. will pay. I don't actually know how many true Baathists are left in Iraq but I'm sure they could do some damage if so inspired.

I do believe that Saddam should be punished for his crimes. He's a bad man -- not sure if he was bad enough to justify a war without weapons of mass destruction but that's a whole 'nother blog post. But I don't think that he should hang. Given the culture of martyrdom pervasive in fanatical Islam, his death serves only to give them another reason to fight. And frankly, I think the worse punishment for Saddam himself would be to sit in a 8x8 cell for the rest of his life, washing his own drawers and having nothing to look forward to but Salisbury steak for Friday's dinner. He should be held in confinement, without the benefit of someone to hear his pontifications, and be allowed to fade from public consciousness. That would be the thing that would truly kill the man.

But he will hang. And perhaps even on television as the world watches.

http://www.cnn.com/2006/WORLD/meast/12/28/hussein/index.html

But I can't help but think that justice will not be achieved.

Merry Christmas, 82nd Airborne!

I'm not surprised. I'm not sure anyone is. Now we'll just have to watch and see what exactly these 3500 guys can add to the mix.

http://www.army.mil/-news/2006/12/27/1131-gates-approves-82nd-airborne-division-deployment-to-kuwait/

Ummmm, no.

I just attended a baby shower where the guest of honor spent over an hour discussing the cosmetic surgery she will have once she finally gives birth. Apparently, she has scheduled a c-section already -- why wait for a medically necessary reason to do so? -- and her doctor is willing to give her a tummy tuck at the same time. After all, why worry about the health of the baby or have a vaginal birth for a quicker recovery time when there might be cellulite and a few extra pounds to contend with?

Anyway, this sparked a conversation about the rumor that the military, wanting to train its doctors on the finer points of plastic surgery (with the idea that it will help with cosmetic surgeries on burn and blast combat casualties), has allotted one free procedure to all military spouses. Every woman in that room went on to say what they would have done -- boobs, liposuction, cheek implants, nose jobs -- you name it, someone wanted it. I was the lone dissenter.

First of all, I've never heard anything to make me believe that this rumor is true and I doubt very much that it is. But more importantly, why on earth would anyone submit to a *free* cosmetic surgery so an inexperienced surgeon can *practice* on them? C'mon now. That's like letting the kid next door take apart the engine of your new Porsche for his freshman auto mechanics class.

In truth, I don't believe in plastic surgery. I think this world does enough to make women feel bad about their bodies. And given that I have a few friends who do indulge in nips and tucks, I've never seen a procedure help with those body phobias. I've only seen it compel them to do more unnecessary and potentially dangerous surgeries to perfectly healthy and beautiful bodies.

I'm not one to blow smoke up your ass and say that any body problem can be solved with diet and exercise. As someone who naturally had a big ass before my kid and then an even larger one after, I know it can only do so much. But it can do enough. Enough to make you feel strong and good inside, which will reflect on the outside. Perfection is unattainable. I don't know why it's so hard for us as women to understand that.

And as for the free plastic surgery, I'm guessing most of the women at that party won't partake. I hope not. But if they do, here's hoping that the military is willing to offer some kind of discount on any follow-on procedures. After all, what's a pair of new boobs without a new ass to match?

The reason why musicians should not be politicians.

Have you seen this stupidity? "Not as seen on TV?" C'mon, now. This is what Bono and Billie Joe think that the military could have done in New Orleans?! And what good is an aid drop like the one at the end of the video that FALLS IN THE WATER?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WNpfVNOW-Uw

And don't get me started on the stealth bomber. Complete and utter bullshit.

I changed my mind.

*THIS* is the perfect Christmas gift.

http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/05349/622923.stm

"I thought it would add that extra sparkle to our marriage"?!?! What the hell is she going on about? Why can't she do what the rest of us do for a little more virgin sparkle -- just lie on the bed, eyes closed, missionary position with knees as close together as possible, with a few winces of pain while whispering, "What time did you say your mother was coming home again?"