As you may or may not know, yesterday was International Women’s Day.

Also, as you may or may not know, I am a woman. (A typo in my profile caused some confusion on this point early on that apparently my profile photo alone could not clear up. Don’t worry—my psychiatrist says I’ll get over it someday.)

As I see it, my ownership of an XXX (not a typo) chromosome made this day a celebration of me. Lest I appear ungrateful, I would like to thank women everywhere for their remarkable contributions to the world, without which this post would not be possible:

1) Food. It’s an indisputable fact that God created women so that women could create food—and babies, more on this below. He only threw in that stuff about Adam’s helpmate to keep the feminist masses (Eve) from revolting. Think about it, it’s no coincidence that each of us got our start sucking sitting at our mother’s … knee. It’s also no coincidence that at the age of 70 my Nana is the best cook in the world and my sister’s baking follows a close second. Why? It’s their job.

As a woman, not embracing your primary purpose in life (to cook), would be like my dog not embracing his primary purpose in life to pee on my bed at 4 a.m. last night, chew my favorite shoes, and look generally adorable while doing it. Sorry, slight diversion, I had to get that out.

2) Entertainment value, I offer blonde jokes, Lucille Ball, and this blog as exhibits A, B, and C.

Also, we can’t forget the pivotal role women have played in the construction industry. Without catcalls and whistles, what would these guys do for fun?

3) Wet dreams. And, by wet I mean bloody. I have this one recurring dream where Hillary Clinton and Sarah Palin duke it out in a cage fight. Then, Palin pulls a moose gun out of her bikini and then, drat the luck, I wake up.

4) The Bachelor. Were there not 25 women willing to open up their tender hearts (and lips, and in Molly’s case God only knows what else legs) every season, my Monday nights would have been so much more ... productive.

5) Godiva Chocolate. It’s no secret that men are not connoisseurs when it comes to the devil's food of the gods. Case in point? My father. A real man’s man, he’ll take a good ol’ fashion Hershey bar over a floofy truffle any day. Me? Like any discerning woman, I only accept the best. Please send all chocolate contributions to Birmingham, AL. Big Sexy, you don’t need the address – when it gets within the city limits I’ll be on it like a pig on a truffle.

Anchorman fan’s take note, please send all chocolate squirrel contributions to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW Washington, DC 20500.

5) Babies. If you don’t know how this one works, please turn off your computer immediately (after reading my blogs as babies post) and do as Richard Spencer did: pick up your phone. Your mom is waiting to help.

Lovingly yours,

The barefoot-but-not-pregnant-in-the-kitchen-blogger


  1. As I see it, my ownership of an XY chromosome made this day[International Women's Day] a celebration of me.

    Um... If you have an XY chromosome, International Women's Day should mean nothing to you and you're statement that "I am a woman ... etc.] would be incorrect.

  2. You DON'T have a Y chromosome. Women are XX. Men are XY. Obviously, not a biology major.

  3. that was pretty funny. :)

  4. You're evil. I appreciate that in a minion.

  5. Speaking of blonde jokes, my sister used to email them to me by the dozen and she was blonde at the time.

    And I thought International Women's Day only applied to liberal females, since conservative ones are not quite human (see treatment of Gov. Palin as evidence) and therefore are banned from celebrating this special day.

  6. Do you know why the bride wears white on her wedding day? So the dishwasher will match the oven and the fridge.

    That's all I have for this blessed day.

  7. Anonymous9.3.09

    Some women aren't entertainment for the construction worker, they are the construction worker. Case in point, my mother-in-law. But you would never know that lurks in her past. She is gracefully feminine.

    Not that I have a problem with pretty passers-by being appreciated...

  8. I could soooo convert to one of those crazy Mormon sects. I really could.

  9. Hold up now. Men are not connoisseurs of the food of the gods? To the contrary, Ms. Logan, we men folk are well aware of the luscious intoxication remarkably fine chocolate produces. With quality cocoa powder, some basic understanding of chemistry and an excessive amount of free time, we too can create chocolate confections that surpass the sufficiently high threshold of--oh I have to say it--good eats.

    No for me, chocolate perfection has a little sweet, more bitter and a hint of cayenne. Yes cayenne, trust me. The Aztecs discovered the benefits of chocolate, so I defer to their ancient wisdom.

    Until the chocolate magicians at Godiva can trump the artisan cocoa delights I've gotten from Lake Champlain, I'm sticking with them.

    Yeah. Yeah. I am. So what. I'm a chocolate snob. Everyone, stop what you'd doing and look at the chocolate snob.

  10. Thank you, Alton Brown.

    And, thumbs up on the cayenne. I have a Lindt Chili Chocolate bar in my nightstand drawer as I type. Having now titillated me with your chocolate prowess, feel free to share. As I said, I live in Birmingham :-)

  11. Behold fellow blogophiles, the power that is Good Eats, and Lindt Chili Chocolate Bars. Oh my, if you're in the the Birmingham where they love the Guv'nor, there are probably laws prohibited that combination of words. I confess that prior to consulting the all knowing Wikipedia I was unaware of any besides that one and the Birmingham where the love the queen (alternately the Caliphate depending on your neighborhood). There in fact seems to be a subdivision of Derby, CT that is called Birmingham.

  12. I may not be a chocolate snob, but I am a beer snob. Give me a real microbrew over the bud/miller/coors any day of the week, so ennuipundit take heart most everyone is a snob about something. ;)