My Woody

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As I've mentioned before, I am much more laid back with this pregnancy than the first. This new laid-back lifestyle involves eating lunch meat, a piece of sushi here and there and actually stepping out of the front door and breathing oxygen not from a tank. It also involves the occasional glass of wine, which my doctor said was fine as long as I wasn't chugging Mad Dog 20/20.

I assured him I hadn't done that since last Halloween at my fancy friend Paula's party where I dressed up as a retired Hooters girl. It was necessary because it went with the costume.

I'm the one getting my nipple tweaked by Superwoman.



Anyhoo, I totally understand that we as human beings have a natural instinct to butt into other peoples' business, especially when we sense something might be in danger. For instance, I once called 911 on my ex-boyfriend's roommate because he was shooting birds with a pellet gun in their back yard. Poor, defenseless birds. Still makes my blood boil.

Oh, and by the way it was in Cape Girardeau, where the concept of shooting little animals out your back door for fun was born, so the police just laughed at me.

Therefore, when ordering a glass of wine at a restaurant or bar, I know it will be served with a big fat side of The Stigma in being the pregnant girl in the bar drinking a glass of wine. And I've come to accept that.

But come on, it's not like I'm snorting coke off a stripper's tits, people.

So this past weekend when I met my fun friend Angie at The Wood, a new bar in Maplewood, I decided to belly up and order a nice cool glass of The Stigma.

This quickly became my new favorite bar for three reasons:

1. I get to watch awesome live bands (and I LOVE live bands) for free.
2. While watching live bands I get to eat a very large stack of delicious onion rings. A staple in the diet of any pregnant woman.
3. The refreshing glass of wine came completely Stigma-free.

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