Illustrator Brock Davis has created a fictional artifact from the Star Wars universe: an invoice made out to Jabba the Hutt for services rendered by bounty hunter Boba Fett in the capture of Han Solo. Love it!
Via Boing Boing.
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The Birth Story, Part 3
I’ve decided to go a slightly different direction for this final post in Claire’s Birth Story series: a timeline with descriptions. I’m so glad that I wrote down the times and details when it was still fresh in my mind, because I can hardly remember any specifics now!
10:00am — Admitted to labor & delivery at 4cm dilated.
The contractions continued to stay consistent at 2-3 minutes apart, each lasting 1 minute. (Note that the frequency of labor contractions is measured by the time between the start of each contraction, not the length of time between the end of one and the beginning of another. So in reality, I only had about 1-2 minutes between each contraction to breathe easy and rest.)
The nurse who had checked my NST results had mentioned that my contractions were strong for where I was in the labor process, and boy was she right! Each contraction seemed to grow stronger and stronger, and soon I was moaning through the waves of pain and feeling sorry for whoever was rooming in the vicinity.
J was at a loss as to what he can do to help, because as much as I wanted his support and to be able to hold and squeeze his hand, whenever a contraction started I did not want anything touching me. So whenever a contraction started and I started to breathe heavily again, he would take my hand and encourage me to squeeze it…only to be met with a “GET! AWAY! FROM! ME!!!!”
It was also at this time that my father visited. (My parents could not visit at the same time because of the store. My mother would visit later that day.) I felt bad for him — I really did. I’m sure it distressed him greatly to see his eldest daughter writhing and moaning in pain, and as I always like to look strong and well put-together in front of him, I felt sorry that he could not see me later, when the epidural had kicked in. He left after staying only for 15 minutes, and I can’t say that I blamed him.
During my short admittance questionnaire, the nurse had asked me if I had planned on getting an epidural, and my answer was a resounding YES! ASAP! However, the anesthesiologist preferred that I be as hydrated as possible so they wanted an entire bag of IV fluid inside me first. So as I continued to endure one contraction after the next, I kept looking over to see how much saline solution was left in the bag.
An hour and fifteen minutes later, it was empty. I barked at J to go get a nurse.
“I’m ready for the epidural now!” I told her.
“Great. Let me replace the bag with a new one, and as soon as the anesthesiologist is finished administering the epidural next door he will come over here.”
“Isn’t there another anesthesiologist?” I asked.
“I’m sorry, he’s at an emergency c-section at the moment.”
Frickity frick frick! I told myself that I could wait another 15 minutes or so, but it wasn’t for another 45 minutes that the anesthesiologist would arrive.
12:00pm — The anesthesiologist arrives to administer the epidural, 5cm dilated
The anesthesiologist entered the room and I said a short prayer of thanks under my breath. He described the procedure and asked if I had any questions, had me sign some forms, and kicked J out from the room.
(Apparently, most hospitals no longer allow dads to stay in the room while the epidural is administered due to the high instance of men fainting from watching the procedure.)
The nurse who was assisting asked me to sit on the side of the bed, legs dangling down, and curl my back down as much as possible while imagining the bones of my spine slowly separating to make room for the needle.
image source
The only problem was, I’m a fairly petite person with a short torso to match and a huge belly. My belly was in the way of my being able to fully curl my back.
In addition, you know how some people’s spines are fully visible with the bones sticking out? Mine is the exact opposite of that, and the anesthesiologist confessed to having some trouble finding the space between the bones.
He would administer a local anesthetic, and as the numbness set in he’d insert the giant epidural needle. I was to hold completely still and say something if I felt any pain (aside from the giant needle being inserted to my spine, that is). Soon I’d feel a lightening bolt of pain shooting up and down just left of my spine…and the anesthesiologist would stop and start over.
This happened five times.
I honestly didn’t blame the guy. My body was making his job difficult, and all I could think about was the blissful pain-free existence that the epidural would bring.
On the sixth try, I felt a tingly sensation just right of my spine instead of the shooting pain on the left. The doctor then told me that my right leg would feel warm soon…and as soon as I felt the temperature rise I felt the oncoming contraction start to dissipate right away. Success!
The anesthesiologist handed me a button connected to a wire and instructed me to press the button if I started to feel uncomfortable again. What he had given me is a walking epidural, with the catheter that delivers the drugs kept in place. I can potentially walk around (I didn’t — my lazy arse stayed in bed the whole time) and control my level of pain with the button.
I felt human again.
2:30pm — 6-7cm dilated, water broken
After I received the epidural, things got kind of…well, boring. You could see the contractions continuing to come on the monitors, but I honestly did not feel anything and I felt like I was just sitting up in bed. Soon, J and I were joined by my mother, my sister, and my sister-in-law, and we chatted away while watching reruns of Scrubs on my laptop.
At 2:30pm, the on-call doctor from my OB practice arrived to check on my progress. (There are three OBs at this practice, with one being on-call at the hospital at all times. I had made sure to have appointments with all three throughout my pregnancy so that I would be comfortable with all of them.) She checked to discover that I was 6-7cm dilated, and announced that it was time to break my water.
Manually breaking the water was exactly like what I had read: the doctor inserts a long skinny rod that resembles a crocheting needle, moves it around until the water breaks. It was not uncomfortable at all; all I felt was a sudden gush of liquid flowing out from between my legs. After a nurse cleaned me up, it was as if nothing had happened at all.
4:30pm — 7cm dilated, pitocin started
My OB returned two hours later to see that I had not progressed much at all, and so recommended pitocin to get things moving.
I was a bit concerned, because I had read that pitocin can lead to fetal distress and increase the risk of requiring a c-section, so I voiced my opinion. However, the doctor explained that at 7cm, that risk is very minimal and that they will start me on a very low dose.
I agreed, and minutes later a nurse arrived with the pitocin and added it to my IV drip. It was as simple as that.
7:00pm — 7-8cm dilated, pictocin increased
The doctor returned at 7pm to check on my progress and I had barely dilated another centimeter. Since the baby had not reacted adversely to the pitocin, the doctor decided to up the dose.
It was at around this time that J started a Facebook poll to see if the baby would be born that night or the next morning; or more specifically, “Will the baby be a September or October baby?”
We asked the doctor for her opinion, and she replied that since I am a first time mother, my labor will most likely progress slowly and the baby will be born October 1. I was a bit bummed to hear that, because I preferred to have a September baby instead (for the sole reason of my liking odd numbers better than even numbers).
By this time, I was starting to get pretty tired so I decided to take a nap…
8:30pm — almost fully dilated (rim)
I was awoken an hour and a half later by my doctor, who was preparing to head on home for the night (“Don’t worry — I only live five minutes away!” she reassured me) and wanted to make sure I was doing okay.
“You’re almost fully dilated!” she exclaimed. “Well I guess I’m not going home…which works out just fine! You have a rim on your right side, so let’s wait a bit for that to go away.”
She explained that women do not always dilate evenly, and that is what had happened in my case. She had me lie on my right side to help the rim subside, and that is how I remained for another half an hour or so.
9:10pm — fully dilated
When the doctor returned, I was fully dilated. “Do you feel any pressure in your pelvic region?” the doctor asked. Actually, now that she mentioned it, I was starting to feel like I needed to poop with each coming contraction. “Let’s get everything prepared,” she said.
Then she looked on over to J and added, “Daddy, we still don’t know if we’ll have a September or October baby yet.”
The doctor left the room to change into a gown, and the nurse began to get everything ready for delivery by adding a “catching” table to the end of my bed, turning on the warming lamps above the initial examination and cleaning station, setting out other equipment, etc.
9:20pm — one “practice” push
When the nurse was done preparing the room for delivery, she asked me if I wanted to practice pushing. Since I had not taken any childbirth classes, I really didn’t know what to expect, or how to push. (All I knew from girlfriends was that I needed to push like I’m taking a dump.)
“Tuck your chin close to your chest, pull up your legs by pulling on your knees, and push like you’re making a bowel movement. You will push three times with each contraction. Each push will last 10 seconds, then take a quick breath, and push again. Remember to make each inhalation between the pushes as short as possible — you don’t want the baby to move back up!”
Originally, I had wanted J by my head as I pushed because I didn’t want him to see all that gore. However, the nurse encouraged him to hold my other leg up from a position that allowed him to see everything and I found myself not protesting.
When the next contraction came (once again, I didn’t feel any pain…just a feeling like I needed to take a crap), I pushed just as the nurse had described. She exclaimed, “Whoa! The baby’s making her way down! I don’t think you need any more practices.”
9:30pm — start pushing
The doctor finally arrived again and we were ready to roll! She positioned herself at the foot of the bed, with the nurse on my left side and J at my right. When the next contraction started, I started to push…
I know I might get flamed for saying this, but I didn’t find pushing that hard. For me, the hardest part was holding my breath for 10 seconds straight while exerting pressure.
I pushed through 4 contractions for a total of 12 pushes. I felt the doctor massaging my perineum and slowly guiding my labia to the sides. I had no idea if the baby was even moving — the pushing was that easy for me!
As I started the last set of pushes I started to feel immense pressure. During the 11th push I suddenly felt that pressure “pop,” and I’m guessing this is the point where the baby’s head cleared. As I pushed one last time the doctor said, “Jenny, look down and see your daughter!” as she pulled her out.
9:35pm — Claire is born!
The Aftermath:
The baby was barely out of my body when I heard strong wailing. Was that…my DAUGHTER? They handed J a pair of scissors to cut the umbilical cord, and placed the baby on my chest.
I’m sorry to say that the first thought that entered my mind as my daughter was placed on my chest was “Eww.” She was slimy, covered in…stuff, and was bloody. Her nose was squashed and she had a really bad conehead. She was also screaming her little head off which made me feel helpless and defeated.
They then whisked her away to wipe her clean and perform tests. This was all done in the same room so I was able to watch…however, I was in a daze at this point and could only look up at the ceiling.
In the meantime, the doctor delivered the placenta (which I didn’t even feel) and started to stitch me up. I asked what the damage was, and the doctor replied that I had one second-degree tear and a couple of very minor tears. She spent about 15 minutes stitching me up while the nurses continued to attend to Claire.
The nurses informed us that our baby was 19″ long and weighed 6lb 7oz. She did not require breathing assistance of any kind — which they told us that many babies her size need — and performed a 9/9 on her APGARs.
As soon as the baby was diapered and swaddled, they handed her to J to hold while I continued to be stitched up. I lied in bed watching my husband with our daughter for the first time. He wiped away the tears that fell from his eyes and stared in amazement at her.
When the doctor announced that she had finished, the nurses wiped me clean and J came over with Claire, placing her on my chest.
You can see how bloated I was after 12 hours of IV drip and 5 hours of pitocin
“Hi baby,” I whispered to her. “I’m your mommy. You were in my belly for almost ten months. I’m so happy to meet you…”
(Almost) 4 Weeks Later:
It’s amazing how they change so fast, isn’t it? I am slowly growing to love my daughter with all my heart.
Picture taken two days ago.
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Man Men Mr. Men
Are you familiar with the popular children’s book series “Mr. Men”? Well, the clever folks at thepoke.co.uk has mashed it up the AMC hit series Mad Men for some amusing results…
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They’ve even created a complete story called “Mr. Sterling Gets Angry” —
Via The New York Times.
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The Physics of Everyday Life, Illustrated
Illustrator Christoph Niemann has an article up in the NYTimes online called Unpopular Science which showcases simple and funny chalkboard drawings of the physics of everyday life.
My favorite has to be this one:
Head on over to the original for more hilarious illustrations and captions!
Via kottke.org.
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Guest Post: Single Ladies (Don’t Put a Ring on It)?
Here is another great read from Susan. In this post she discusses the decreasing gender wage gap (yay!) and the different factors that may or may not play into it. Enjoy!
In the ever-growing body of evidence for the diminishing wage gap between men and women, research has uncovered a segment of women making more than their male counterparts. Ta-da! “In 2008, single, childless women between ages 22 and 30 were earning more than their male counterparts in most U.S. cities, with incomes that were 8% greater on average, according to an analysis of Census Bureau data,” says the Wall Street Journal.
Between the reports of more men losing their jobs than women in the current recession, and the fact that women are attending college in greater numbers than men, you have a perfect storm of qualified, hard working (and apparently single and childless) ladies bringing home the bacon. I would like to see a survey on whether shoe sales in the cities most affected by this trend (I’m looking at you, Atlanta) have skyrocketed. I’m not trying to stereotype, but I’m guessing that all these single, highly paid gals also have fabulous wardrobes. Wouldn’t you?
However, if you’re not so concerned about your career and really do want to get married, move to Las Vegas. Another study recently found that women marry at a younger age in areas where there are outnumbered by men. When confronted with fewer choices, men seem to want to lock in their sure thing sooner rather than later; so the median age for men getting married in these areas varies. Maybe there is a lot of trophy wifing going on in those cities?
It would seem then that it’s good news all around for ladies these days. But the very last sentence of the first article manages to sneak in a zinger; women’s wages tend to stagnate or even lessen after they have children. Ouch. But the data doesn’t say if this is because they work less hours than in their child-free days, which is hopefully is the reason for the backsliding. I am not going to believe that in this day and age, women make less simply because they have kids at home, because that’s pretty illegal.
“I expect the trend to continue,” says the tastily named Andrew Beveridge. If that’s the case, there eventually must be a trickle up for women later in their careers (aka the ones with kids in most cases). Amen to that.
Image from Search Engine People Blog.
About the Author:
Susan Cruickshank is a feminist, blogger and owner of too many pairs of trousers. She investigates women’s career and other work-related issues on her blog Wearing the Trousers. When not blogging, Susan enjoys the local Boston music scene as fan and sometimes performer and spending time with her husband Rob. Her other favorite activity is posting ridiculous pictures of her cats on Facebook.!
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The Birth Story, Part 2
Read Part 1…
We finally made it through the torrential rain and rush-hour traffic to the hospital. During our hospital tour, we had been instructed to go through the Emergency Room entrance — no matter the time of day — so that is what we had done the night before and it is where we headed for this time around too. However, this time J stopped the car at the door so that I wouldn’t have to walk through the rain and instructed me to go ahead while he parked the car.
Just as the night before, all I had to do at the ER registration desk was give my name and date of birth.
(This is the beauty of pre-registering at the hospital and I wholeheartedly recommend that all expecting mothers do the same!)
As soon as I finished stating my year of birth, I felt another contraction kicking in. The kind lady behind the registration desk immediately took notice and ran to grab me a wheelchair. She asked if I was alone — “No, my husband is parking the car…” — and she wheeled me to the waiting area and sat with me, holding my hand and trying to distract me through the pain until J arrived. (Did I mention I love this hospital?)
J soon appeared by my side, dripping wet and looking disheveled. “Where’s the overnight bag?” I asked.
“I’ll get it later. We don’t know if we’re staying yet, right?”
I wanted to kill him for saying that. But there was no time to argue, because right then, a nurse from Labor & Delivery arrived to escort us upstairs. Coincidentally, we got assigned the same exact room as the night before.
I was instructed to change into a gown and was prepared for another non-stress test (NST), where two monitors are attached to my stomach: one to measure the baby’s heartrate; and the other to measure the intensity, duration, and frequency of my contractions. (NSTs may also be performed regularly during the third trimester in the case of high-risk pregnancies.)
What an NST looks like (image source)
The worst part of an NST is the waiting, because they need some time to get an accurate measure of your contractions. In my case, they waited about 20 minutes before sending a nurse to check the results. She confirmed that my contractions were, indeed, about a minute long and 2-3 minutes apart. She also noted, “Hmm, they seem pretty strong for this stage…”
No sh*t, Sherlock. I could’ve told you that.
She then slapped on a glove to perform a cervix check. ‘Please let me be more than 1cm dilated…’ I thought to myself as I pleaded with my body.
“You’re 4cm dilated. Wow, you progressed fast from last night! Congratulations — you’re having a baby!”
She then went off to officially check me into Labor & Delivery. She also informed me that she will be contacting my doctor’s office to let them know that I was in labor. The time was now 10:00am.
To be continued…
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Guest Post: The Dangers of Singling out the Senses
Today we have another fantastic post by Nick. Here he talks about a topic I briefly spoke of in the past: new technology at the movies.
While I am a self-proclaimed geek, I remain a traditionalist when it comes to certain topics (ie, opting for books over e-readers) and the moviegoing experience is one that I prefer old-fashioned as well. Nick does an excellent job of defending his stance against new technology at the movies, and I wholeheartedly agree with every word.
That being said, I must confess that I am guilty of forking over $15 to watch Resident Evil: Afterlife in 3D…but only because it was only available in 3D and I have such a vested interest in the franchise since having had the crap scared out of me by the first Resident Evil video game back in high school. 
And you know what? The first thing that came out of J’s mouth as we walked out of the theater was, “Well that was a complete waste of $30.”
Enjoy!
Apparently there is a new technology being pushed in Hollywood that will allow moviegoers to experience a full range of lifelike smells while in the theatres. Seriously. They will be outfitting the seats with a new olfactory emitter that draws from reservoirs of “base scents;” they combine to form more complex smells that match the scenes in the movie.
Obviously this new technology comes with significant costs, so movies featuring smell enhancements will cost roughly $3 more per ticket to cover them. But think of the enhanced immersion that smell will make! New movies will strive to fill the screen with fields of flowers, dumpsters, bakeries, farms, restaurants, anything that will be able to utilize the features that — up until now — had never been available. Story, cinematography, and character development will have to take a back seat to making the most audacious scent scenes.
By now you should have realized that none of this is true. There were a few failed attempts at this kind of thing (see Smell-O-Vision and iSmell (Really? Someone thought that was a good name for a product?)), but the technology was a flop.
Good thing too, I say, since it would have led to the degradation of movies aesthetics the way that this stupid 3D craze is doing now.
Stop. Do not start bellowing on about Avatar. That was some crazy new 3D that — while better than most —still failed to create any more immersion than someone spritzing bottles of Na’vi-scented mist on me every time Neytiri showed up. The movie relied so heavily on cliché and archetypes that it needed fancy technology to save it from the absolute mediocrity that it really was (see my previous post about that here).
But, as with all bandwagons, 3D has a throng of producers clamoring to pull themselves up and into the piles of money loaded in the back. Pixar slaps a pair of polarized goggles on anything that it releases these days; Up is the single best movie I have ever seen and it gained nothing by being in more than the requisite two dimensions. There was some kid’s movie about hamsters as well, but I doubt that anyone not on Ritalin remembers or cares about that one. Horror films are all following suit too. I’ve heard that Piranha 3D is supposed to be a joyous celebration of over-the-top gore and gratuitous nudity, but does the addition of uncomfortable glasses really make it any more memorable than all the other monster movies?
The worst offender, however, has to be the most recent addition to the already unnecessarily expanded Resident Evil franchise. I have not seen Resident Evil: Afterlife, nor is it likely that I will be going to the theatre to drop $14 for the privilege of being bludgeoned by what will likely be several clubs worth of stupid, but I can gather just about all I need from the trailer:
This movie appears to be doing exactly what I feared that the stupid 3D revolution would right from the start: instead of relying on solid, aesthetically pleasing cinematography suited for any kind of movie (2D, 3D, or otherwise), each new 3D feature will build their idiot creation around making things fly at the screen and, consequently, at their slack-jawed, brain-dead audience. Screw stories. Screw writing. Let’s just make some $%&# spin, zip, rocket, and smash into the camera.
Again, stop. Do not point out that The Matrix utilized revolutionary technology and action-oriented, non-standard filming to create a completely fresh take on action movies. Bullet time was used to improve the storytelling and to build the feeling of a virtual world. It did not take over the movie, and the franchise benefited from its existence, rather than suffered for it.
Going back to Smell-O-Vision, new technology is like perfume. Use it sparingly and properly and it can transform a good movie into a great movie. It can bring monsters to life, drop us in a warzone, or carry us into space. But, like perfume, when you dump it all over everything without discretion, you give everyone a headache and make them want to puke.
And no one wants to spend an extra $4 a ticket for that.
About the Author:
Nicholas Stirling is descended from alcoholic Finns and pig-rearing Scotsmen. He has tried his hand at more than a few things: custom woodworking, bookstore management, and teaching (his current occupation) to name a few of them. He is happily married to his high school sweetheart, and lives in Ontario (that’s a province in Canada). He is currently promoting his first real stab at a readable novel, entitled Emily Rose, and his short story “Pretty Flowers” will be published in an upcoming edition of Morpheus Tales. He has also been a featured contributor on Cracked.com, with his “Elves” topic page picking up over 210,000 reads. He blogs regularly on Exercising Monsters.
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Things Organized Neatly
Things Organized Neatly is a Tumblr blog that showcases, well, things organized neatly.
I don’t know about you, but looking through these images makes me very happy and satisfied. The OCD in me jumps for joy.
Via Boing Boing.
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Guest Post: Baby Budgeting — Diapering (And a Giveaway!)
Today Donna returns with the second post in her three-part series on baby budgeting: diapering!
After briefly delving into the three types of diapering options available to parents today in America, Donna describes myriads of ways to save on disposable diapers. I, for one, will be bookmarking this post for future (and current!) reference. And read on to the end of the post for a great giveaway. Enjoy!
Diapering 101
The big debate: cloth diapers vs. disposable diapers
When we first found out that we were pregnant, we wanted to do the green thing and go with cloth diapering. It sounded like a good idea and my mom had done cloth diapers (mostly because back in 1981, it was just the more affordable thing to do) with me.
Let’s break down some costs:
Cloth diapers — The cost of cloth diapering can vary considerably, from as low as $300 for a basic set-up of prefolds and covers, to $1000 or more for organic cotton fitted diapers and wool covers. Despite this large price range, it should be possible to buy a generous mix of prefolds and diaper covers for about $300, most of which will probably last for two children. This means the cost of cloth diapering is about one tenth the cost of disposables.
Diaper Services — Subscribing to a diaper services costs between $13 and $17 each week depending on how many diapers a family decides to order. Let’s assume the family spends roughly $15 a week for 60 diapers a week. This equals $780 annually and averages to $65 a month. Over the course of two years, the family will spend about $1500 per baby, roughly the same cost as disposables, depending on what type of covers are purchased and what type of wipes are used. If one adds in the cost of disposable wipes for either diapering system, the costs increase.
Disposable diapers — For these calculations, let’s assume that a family needs about 60 diapers a week. On average, disposable diapers cost roughly 23¢ per store-brand diaper and 28¢ for name-brand. This averages to 25.5¢ per diaper. Thus the average child will cost about $800 annually and $1,600 to diaper for two years in disposable diapers, or about $66 a month.
What did we do?
We were going to go with a cloth diapering service. However, at our baby shower, someone made us a huge diaper cake and our nurse snuck in a bunch of newborn diapers in our bag. So, with ALL of that, we didn’t need any more diapers for the first 2.5 months of our son’s life! Since we started with disposable, we ended up continuing with disposables. However, there are other ways to save on disposables!
And don’t forget about wipes! To be honest, we just buy whatever generic wipe is on sale — it doesn’t matter to us.
But for diapers, I suggest that you subscribe to Huggies and/or Pampers and get coupons from them. Also, the Sunday paper almost always has more coupons, too. I like using websites such as www.diapers.com or www.amazon.com to buy my diapers. For www.diapers.com, there are usually promos so you can get a discount, no tax and free shipping over a certain dollar amount. Also, you can mail your manufactor’s coupons into them and use them online!
And with Amazon, you definitely get some good deals. My latest deal was through them: August Parenting magazine code (20% off) + September Parents code (20% off) + possible coupon at Amazon coupons page + 30% Off Subscribe and Save discount = Awesome! Side note — sign up for Amazon Mom membership so your shipping is free along with other good deals.
How else do I describe it — check out this picture:
However, if I need to go to a store to buy diapers, I go to Target or Costco. Target is because of the stackable coupons from both Target coupons and Manufacturers coupons. For Target, I can get a Huggies Size 3 box (168) for roughly $38.99 — with the coupons in the mail ($2 off the Target brochure and $2 off the manufacturers coupon that comes in the Sunday newspaper) — that ends up being 21 cents per diaper. Plus, sometimes, Target will do a deal that if you buy two boxes, you’ll get a free $5 Target gift card.
Costco has the same diapers for $49.99 for 224 quantity which comes out to be 22 cents per diaper. BUT they don’t take manufacturers coupons so shopping at Costco is only good for diapers when there is a Costco coupon for the diapers.
Or do what I did and potty trained my son at 18 months to save even more money!
Donna has graciously offered to give one reader a 20% off coupon from Amazon! All you need to do is to comment on this post and you will be entered in this drawing.
You will have until Wednesday, 10/27/10 at 12pm EST to enter, and the winner will be emailed the coupon code. Don’t forget to include your email address so that we can contact you if you win! Good luck!
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Unevolved Brands
Unevolved Brands is a Tumblr blog featuring popular logos that are simplified to circles. It just goes to show that the strongest, most memorable brands can be easily recognized even through basic shapes. However, I was disappointed in myself to realize that I was only able to identify 2/3 of the brands below.
How many can you recognize?
Via Gizmodo.
I like books, gadgets, spicy food, and art. I dislike shopping, hot weather, and the laws of entropy. Although I am a self-proclaimed computer nerd, I still have a love for handbags and makeup... and I am always teetering on high heels. To learn more about me, visit the 
