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I WEIGHED MY JEANS I have a confession: I weighed my pants. Like stripped down and put my jeans ON the scale. I waited for a number to come up. Nothing. Zero. I took them off the scale and tried it again. Zero point zero. Fuck. There goes that plan. I was on my way to the doctor, the LADY doctor to be exact. Not for anything in particular, just a yearly check-up to make sure all my parts are still functioning after three babies. (Happy to report my reproductive system is still on fleek). ANYWAY, with a 10:00am appointment I was panicking a bit. Not because of the inevitable traffic to head over the hill to ...Read More