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Why, this blog practically writes itself!

Seems like lately I've seen a lot of posts asking readers for their input — you know, polls, surveys, requests for advice, that kind of thing. As I'm always one to hop on a bandwagon as long as I don't have to sit next to the stinky guy, I thought I'd turn to you all to help me solve these pressing problems I am currently facing.

Plus, you know, I work hard, damn hard, writing these posts, making it all nice for you and your friends, going out of my way to put on a touch of lipstick and a clean frock when you come home at the end of a long day at the office...

So you do the work today. I would appreciate it if you would answer one of the following questions:

  1. Where can I find a short-sleeved V-neck T-shirt that will accommodate, not to say showcase, my opulent rack?

    Friends, at 20 weeks postpartum I am still wearing my maternity T-shirts. Pride compels me to assure you that they're the kind of shirt designed to sheath the pregnant body in a sausagey Lycra casing, and not the kind modeled after a circus tent, so they do not in fact swirl around my waist exactly like the hoop skirt of antebellum ballgown — only sort of. Still, I feel decidedly sheepish wearing them when I'm back in my pre-pregnancy pants.

    But my pre-pregnancy T-shirts no longer fit in the bust. What I need is a T-shirt that houses my majestic prow without creating an unsightly pucker across same. As long as we're going with the ship metaphor, it must also taper neatly at the waist instead of billowing freely like the topgallant of a three-masted schooner in the gale of high seas. Gap and Ann Taylor: great for waist, lousy for bust. Old Navy: generally a little cheaper-looking than I like. Eddie Bauer: tends toward the boxy. American Apparel: hahahahahahahahaha ohhhhh.

    Think shapely, not boxy; tailored, not sloppy; black or just possibly gray, not festooned with rhinestones and kittens, please.

  2. What kind of stroller should we buy?

    It should be reasonably sturdy, with wheels that can negotiate a packed but unpaved path through a wooded park. It should not be so heavy that I can't push it up a steep hill while laden with approximately twenty pounds of baby without expiring from exertion. And above all, it should have handles that are long enough to be comfortably used by someone tall — adjustable, perhaps. Finally, it should corner like it's on rails, get at least 35 MPG/highway, have a handy cupholder, a 10-disc CD changer, a place to hang a pungent Little Tree air freshener, and a prominent expanse to display my bumper sticker that reads </bush>.

  3. What should I serve for dinner this weekend?

    Due to the impressive array of food sensitivities our guests carry, these foods are forbidden:

    • wheat gluten in any form
    • aged cheeses, including cheddar and parmesan
    • chocolate
    • nuts
    • caffeine
    • any kind of food dye
    • any kind of soy-based item

    Due to Paul's sister's selective vegetarianism, I also must not serve:

    • meat

    ...unless it is the meat of a

    • fish

    ...which I do

    • not

    particularly care for.

    Finally, due to the immoderate enthusiasm of one of our guests, I should probably not serve:

    • booze

    ...though I cannot swear I will not slip away to guzzle some on the sly in the:

    • pantry
    • half-bath
    • coat closet
    • little warren I've created in the basement within a teetering pile of suitcases

    Anyway, my current dinner menu includes a can of tuna, some iffy off-brand mayonnaise, a handful of stale rice crackers, and the banana that is slowly blackening on the end of my kitchen island.

    Do you think that will stretch to serve twelve?

  4. Does this post strike you as sort of...well...lazy?

    Yeah, me, too. I'm sorry and embarrassed. Really. The shame overwhelms me. I'm going to crawl into my dark little den of luggage now. If you need me, you can find me licking the inside of the soft-sided cooler that still smells of coconut rum, eight years after that trip to the Bahamas.

Thank you in advance for your comments, which will pick up the slack and make it possible for me to enjoy some quality me-time. I'll check back once I've run out of intoxicating residue or when I get my tongue caught in a zipper, whichever comes first.