I Guess the Meatballs Need More Work...And I Break Down and Buy "The Cup"

So, I made these TVP meatballs this weekend, and I thought they rocked. Still do, actually, and I had every intention on sharing the recipe with you all tonight. But then something happened - I served them for supper. With spaghetti.

And while I thought they were great, Bob annoyed me to no end by proclaiming that he did NOT like them. He was a little rude about it, frankly, and it made me want to slap him. He proclaimed my balls to be "tasteless" and commented that they were "the texture of doughboys, ack ack." What a horrible thing to say about my poor, defenseless balls.

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The bastard. Fine, then, I'll try again. And I swear I will only post the recipe once all four members of my family find them fit to eat. (If that ever comes to pass with this contrary crew, you'll know it's a winner. That, or hell has frozen over.)

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I have other news to report. I was near to overwhelmed by the comments and email I received begging, urging, and imploring me to stop being so damn closed-minded and give the Diva Cup a try. I was chided for my notion that I would be elbow-deep in my private places trying to insert it, and I was advised that I could always mail it back for a full refund if it isn't to my liking. (And/or leaks all over my white skirt at the church picnic.)

(In regards to sending it back, I would like, NEVER do that, because I can just picture the poor shmuck who works in the mail room at that company. In my humble opinion, one should NOT have to "glove up" to open the mail. Turns out though that return is not an option, thank God. They just employ very patient people whose job it is to talk you through the insertion process, again and again, as you squat, miserable and frustrated on your bathroom floor, one hand in your box and the other holding the phone.)

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But, I was feeling flush with cash today, so I took the plunge anyway today and bought one. Yup, I sure did. And the first thing I noticed is that how $43 dollars sure doesn't go very far these days. (Yeah, you read that right. Forty-three smackaroos for something that looks a lot like the thing I use to fill my spice bottles.)

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I know it's hard to picture just how big this little widget is, so I have helpfully compared it here to a more familiar object; namely, a can of beer. Does this help you visualize? I thought so, and you're welcome.

It also comes with a little "Diva" lapel pin, which is very cute and could be very handy. If all Diva Cup users would just wear the pin regularly, desperate newbies would be able to spot other Divas in public places and approach them for advice on what my husband calls "installation."

Speaking of installation, my husband was very intrigued by the whole concept and entertained me while I cooked dinner by reading the entire pamphlet front to back. He offered to accompany me to the bathroom later and read the important parts again while I try to accomplish the deed. I have to admit, of all the things I suspected the Diva Cup might bring to my life, foreplay was not one of them.

Not to get too personal or too damn specific, I can tell you that I will be trying the Diva Cup soon. Expect a detailed, no holds-barred review of just exactly I make out with this mysterious item. The website says I can stand on my head while wearing it, and dammit, I may kill myself in the process but a handstand I will do.

And if it gets too graphic and makes you lose your appetite, well, you were too chubby anyway. Live with it....

Until my next report...peace and periods!