Having just seen the Vagina Monologues for the first time a couple weeks ago, I feel that an ode to my Down There is in order. Maybe not so much as an ode as it is an excuse to talk about the gynecologist.
[Side note: the Vag Monologues was an amazing experience. If you have never gone before I highly suggest going. It's pretty exhilarating, and you'll leave wanting to go and shout about vaginas to the world. Just go see it.]
Today the lecture in Human Sexuality was all about sexual health, which is why I even thought of this in the first place.
So, the gyno. It is literally the most awkward thing that I have to do on a yearly basis. I first started going when I was 15. Kelly made me go. Her excuse was that Grammy made her go when she was 15. Whatever, that shit was wack. You're supposed to start going when you turn 18 or when you become sexually active. Since neither of those were true at the time I thought it was ridiculous that I had to go. In truth, it terrified the living shit out of me. I got that feeling of absolute dread when you know you have to do something that you REALLY don't want to do. My stomach was in knots and I didn't sleep well for at least a week before the appointment.
It was probably not as awful as I'd expected it to be, but still bloody terrible. First of all, my Mom has been going to the same doctor since forever, and when she walked into the doctor's office with me for the first time there were all these doctors that she knew. She introduced me to this one guy who had basically delivered me, and he made something along the lines of what everybody says when they know my mom and are meeting me for the first time. It's a combination of 'wow you've gotten big' and 'Damn Kelly, just yesterday she was a toddler' and 'time just flies, doesn't it?'. Except that this guy had been there when I popped out of the womb so it was a little bit more awkward. I'm not sure how to respond in these instances so I just smile and nod like I'm totally thrilled to be talked about like I don't exist or commented upon like a nice piece of cheese.
Then I had to go in for a pelvic exam. Sitting naked on a table with nothing but my socks on was incredibly nerve wracking for my high school freshman self. I was probably having heart palpitations. Yeah, I was wearing one of the craptacular paper robes, but those aren't even remotely close enough to actual garments to be considered clothes so I was naked except for my socks. Why they let me wear my socks, I don't know.
So I get a lovely pelvic exam. Speculums are just about the weirdest contraptions ever. They sort of look like torture instruments. They sort-of-kind-of-but-not-really are torture instruments. And they're really fucking cold too. And I'm not sure what kind of lube they've been using in my doctors office, but ever time I leave my vajayjay could be a friggin Slip-N-Slide for how much they slather on me.
And then there's the breast exam. As if it's not awkward enough for some old lady to be investigating my nether regions, she has to get to second base too. The most awkward part about it is the fact that I'm SUPER ticklish just about everywhere, including my boobs. So, basically the doctor feels me up and I have to just try not to have giggle spasms everywhere.
As if having someone eyeball your cooch isn't enough fun, there was the time that I passed out in the gynecologists office.
I went in for the first HPV shot (no pelvic exams for that day). The nurse led me to one of the rooms and swabbed my arm up and everything. She gave me the shot, and I remember that it was really cool because the needle was like spring loaded or something. It was a badass syringe. Then the nurse tells me that I'm good to go, so I get up and walk down the hallway. Except once I'm in the hallway my hearing feels really muffled and I wonder why. I walk out into the lobby where my mom is chatting with the receptionist. I make it to a spot next to her, and by this time I'm seeing black spots. All I can think about is the black spots remind me of cows. Then I realize my mom is looking at me like there's something wrong. I hear her insistently say, "Are you okay?" and I thought that I answered that yeah, I was totally fine, but apparently I just stared at her like she was speaking chinese or something. I don't remember this happening but apparently one eye rolled up and the other rolled sideways, and then I was down for the count.
I came in a chair with several doctors hovering over me taking my pulse and handing me a cup of water. I felt totally fine. Apparently I just had a really rare reaction to the HPV shot. The entire walk back to the car Kelly kept sneaking glances at me. I think she was afraid that I was going to up and die on her at any second. But that was it, nothing else happened after that.
Except that I got the same nurse for round II of the HPV shot, and that time she made me lie down for 10 minutes post injection. How embarrassing.
And while on the topic of the Southern Hemisphere, can I just complain about 'feminine hygiene products'? They're goddamn expensive. Why can't the government subsidize them? It's a natural bodily function that is nearly guaranteed to happen, so why do we have to pay for it? I'm calling bullshit.
Now for story time: when I was 14 and just getting used to using pads and stuff, I attempted to borrow one of Kelly's tampons. I inserted it like I thought you were supposed to, and I went around for a couple hours wearing one but I couldn't figure out why it was so uncomfortably painful. Turns out the cardboard is NOT supposed to stay in there. Whoops.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
More texts (this time from my phone)
From Sketch:
2/4 10:24pm: FREE SCOTCH! IT IS SO WARM IN HERE
2/4 10:25pm: YOU WIN777777
2/4 10:32pm: I DONKEY PUNCHED JELLY KOE. IM IN NY NO PAUNCH HERE YO. HAVE FUN.
From Soxhat:
2/5 1:30am: All I hear from you is blahblahblah pangolin
The following were all received while I was in the movie theater watching I am Number Four on 2/18:
Sketch: 11:33pm: WINE
Scruff: 11:34pm: Dear samantha, this is your drunk text. Our wine tasting has devolved somewhat but we are eating goat cheese and crumpets. Impressed? You should be.
Sushi: 12:28am: im drunkkkkkkkk
Scruff: 12:29am: It may also be relevant that i am drunk. Also liz says hello again, and that she hopes you enjoyed j biebs in three dee.
From Mom:
3/5: Ok. Taiping it
(proof of her spelling fails)
From Sarah
3/7: katy perry is destroying america
3/7: hah yes i watched the 'hot gay guy' version. i still blame katy perry.
3/9: we are so getting fired when we gets back
3/16: that is degrading to turkeys
3/18: you should start writing childrens books
3/18 Me: I would only target it to badass children
From Giraffes:
3/9: We're talking about electrons as billiard balls hitting each other and i can't help but think about my eggs rolling around and smacking into one another.
3/12 11:53pm: Drunk atext durnk text ajtrik texgt
3/13 12:01am:Thats yyyyyyyyy nale they call me jane noooo thays not my bame!!!!
From Scruff (on my really drunk voicemail I left him)
3/13 Thank you, by the way, for that fantastic voice mail.
From Wahwuh:
3/17 11:54am: ahhhhhhhhhhhh alarm clock faaaaaaailllll im in my BED!!! fuck ill be there soon (foreal this time lol no more "5 more minutes")
3/18 12:12am: thanks for the punch and shotttttt (nomonomnomnommmmmm)
12:23am: drunk text for sammmmmm hh:::: the advantagoues aardvark likes fucksicles and some socks
From Captain Longballs
3/18 1:55am: We found a male asian version of you
From Scruff:
3/18 1:58am: At this point you probably don't care, but jen confirms that women with dark skin still have nipple color change during pregnancy.
3/19
Me: the next animal you draw on my wall should be a Vadger
Sketch: Vagina + badger?
Sketch: Badgina?
2/4 10:24pm: FREE SCOTCH! IT IS SO WARM IN HERE
2/4 10:25pm: YOU WIN777777
2/4 10:32pm: I DONKEY PUNCHED JELLY KOE. IM IN NY NO PAUNCH HERE YO. HAVE FUN.
From Soxhat:
2/5 1:30am: All I hear from you is blahblahblah pangolin
The following were all received while I was in the movie theater watching I am Number Four on 2/18:
Sketch: 11:33pm: WINE
Scruff: 11:34pm: Dear samantha, this is your drunk text. Our wine tasting has devolved somewhat but we are eating goat cheese and crumpets. Impressed? You should be.
Sushi: 12:28am: im drunkkkkkkkk
Scruff: 12:29am: It may also be relevant that i am drunk. Also liz says hello again, and that she hopes you enjoyed j biebs in three dee.
From Mom:
3/5: Ok. Taiping it
(proof of her spelling fails)
From Sarah
2/19, (on stalking her boyf) 10:27pm: i am def video chatting w him and just informed him that you are currently stalking him
3/7: katy perry is destroying america
3/7: hah yes i watched the 'hot gay guy' version. i still blame katy perry.
3/9: we are so getting fired when we gets back
3/16: that is degrading to turkeys
3/18: you should start writing childrens books
3/18 Me: I would only target it to badass children
From Giraffes:
3/9: We're talking about electrons as billiard balls hitting each other and i can't help but think about my eggs rolling around and smacking into one another.
3/12 11:53pm: Drunk atext durnk text ajtrik texgt
3/13 12:01am:Thats yyyyyyyyy nale they call me jane noooo thays not my bame!!!!
From Scruff (on my really drunk voicemail I left him)
3/13 Thank you, by the way, for that fantastic voice mail.
From Wahwuh:
3/17 11:54am: ahhhhhhhhhhhh alarm clock faaaaaaailllll im in my BED!!! fuck ill be there soon (foreal this time lol no more "5 more minutes")
3/18 12:12am: thanks for the punch and shotttttt (nomonomnomnommmmmm)
12:23am: drunk text for sammmmmm hh:::: the advantagoues aardvark likes fucksicles and some socks
From Captain Longballs
3/18 1:55am: We found a male asian version of you
From Scruff:
3/18 1:58am: At this point you probably don't care, but jen confirms that women with dark skin still have nipple color change during pregnancy.
3/19
Me: the next animal you draw on my wall should be a Vadger
Sketch: Vagina + badger?
Sketch: Badgina?
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Texts from yours truly.
I don't totally remember sending all of these, but this just reinforces my idea that I am a textic genius.
http://sam394.wordpress.com/2011/03/10/random-texts-sam-sends-me-part-i/
http://sam394.wordpress.com/2011/03/20/random-texts-sam-sends-me-part-ii/
http://sam394.wordpress.com/2011/03/10/random-texts-sam-sends-me-part-i/
http://sam394.wordpress.com/2011/03/20/random-texts-sam-sends-me-part-ii/
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Stupid fights
My parents are probably the weirdest married couple I've ever met. I don't know what it is about their personalities but they just fight about some of the dumbest shit ever. For example, the most classic example is the house thermostat.
Mike is probably the most penny pinching man with a three-figure salary that I know. My father is so ridiculous that he steals ketchup packets and napkins from fast food places. Seriously, we haven't bought napkins in years. At the peak of his thriftyness, we would wait until there was literally nothing but pasta and canned vegetables in the house and then go mass grocery shopping after cutting coupons en masse and grabbing all the sale papers. Then we would go out and hit like five grocery stores to get the best of what each store had to offer. It drove Kelly nuts and eventually rising gas prices stopped those extreme measures, but anyway, you get the point.
In summer the thermostat in my house is usually set to 63 degrees. Kelly likes it to be at 62. They have literally had angry blow-out fights over one goddamn thermostat degree. I'm talking like to the point where they don't speak to each other for a couple of days. Dad gets angry because his argument is that you can't really feel a one degree difference, but your bill will reflect a one degree difference. Kelly, who is going through early pre-menopausal symptoms (ie hot flashes) disagrees on both counts and insists that one degree makes all the difference and that she refuses to 'sweat in her own house'.
So what basically ends up happening is this: Dad leaves at 5am to go to work and doesn't get home until about 3pm. Whenever Kelly makes it out of bed (she is notorious for sleeping in) she will go and turn the thermostat down at least one degree (but probably more) and then turn it up when she leaves for work. Her idea is that Dad never need know. Sometimes she forgets and thats when the argument starts all over again. Literally, the same argument will happen again. You'd think they would learn.
Another constant fight is Mom's lateness. Kelly has some of the worst ADD ever, and it's a partial cause to her chronic tendency to arrive anywhere late. She couldn't be on time to save herself. It used to embarrass me terribly as a kid, because nobody likes being the last kid picked up from school, from activities, etc. Especially because generally she's not just late, she's like 25 minutes late. And then I'd feel bad for making somebody else's parent have to wait for me. Let's just say that I actually made it to my dental appointments on time when I started driving myself. And it's not like we don't try to help her out. We've tried setting all the clocks in the house 20 minutes fast, told all her doctors to call and remind her that her appointment is at least 30 minutes earlier than it actually is, etc. Nope, doesn't really help much.
Dad, on the other hand, is a 'if you're not early, you're late' kind of person. He's almost obsessed with getting places right on time. This mentality comes in handy for doctors appointments and stuff, but when you're going to a party or a family gathering it's awkward being the first people there. Mike cannot for the life of him understand the concept of 'fashionably late'.
So really, everything we do as a family is basically a ticking time bomb. Dad's parents (Grandma & Grandad D) live about 45 minutes away. This is a typical family outing:
Days in advance Dad will tell Mom that he wants to leave at 1:25pm. The get together probably doesn't start until at least 3pm. At 1:25pm Kelly will probably have just gotten out of the shower. It doesn't really help that aside from being late, Kelly has a terrible time making decisions and does everything at the speed of a prehistoric tortoise. She is just really slow in general. So it will probably take her at least another hour to get dressed, do her hair, and pick out jewelry. And that's if she's rushing like mad.
2:30pm will roll around and Kelly will at least be clothed. If it's a good day, she'll be ready to leave (ie she will be dressed with her hair in rollers and she will do her makeup in the visor mirror of the van). If it's not a good day she'll be another 20 minutes.
Mike, of course, wanted to leave at around 2pm, regardless of what time he told Kelly. He gave her a 1:25 start time with some leeway built in, but once it gets past 2pm he starts to get mad. [As an aside, Danny and I were both most likely ready to leave at 1:25pm]. He'll tromp upstairs and start nagging her to get a move on it. By 2:30 they're yelling at each other. It's not like his persistent nagging is helping her get ready any faster. In fact, it probably slows her down since Kelly is incapable of doing two things at once. They'll fight for a few minutes and then Mike will give some sort of ultimatum (like 15 minutes or so) and stomp downstairs. He'll yell at Danny and I to get in the car.
With us in the car, Dad will start the car and grumble to himself. Mike doesn't have a long fuse on the best of days and once he gets mad he stays mad. And then it's like some nasty demon from another dimension takes over his mouth because he does not know when to shut it. Even after a fight is over he will continue to grumble ugly things under his breath and talk to himself. It really only makes things worse. He'll do that while he sits in the car, which is running. My parents will have been married 21 years this April and sometimes I don't understand why he doesn't just accept her lateness as a thing that happens. Or maybe not quite accept it, but stop to seriously work himself up over it. I mean, Kelly has been chronically late for most of her life and after two decades of marriage nothing much has changed. But Mike for some reason just can't get this through his neanderthal skull.
After another 10 minutes of car idling (which drives me nuts, because it's pollutionatory) he will angrily shut off the car and stomp back inside. He will yell something like, "FUCK THIS. I'M NOT GOING" and plop himself in the recliner and turn on ESPN.
That's when they both play the "I'm not going" game. Mike will refuse to go, and then Kelly gets pissed. If she fails to get him to come with us, she'll make me or Danny go in and beg him to go with us. Or if that fails, Kelly will declare that she's not going either. It's really really wack.
What usually happens after this is that we all end up going but Kelly and Mike will argue with each other for the first half of the car trip and then sit in stoney silence for the second half.
It's really weird, and really awkward and totally screwed up, but it's my family and I have to live with it. All I can really do is roll my eyes and slowly shake my head.
Now that I'm older and have actual social skills, I have attempted to mediate several arguments between them. Usually I didn't volunteer for this job, I just got dragged in. Somebody will be looking for validation for their points, and since I'm the only one there (besides Danny, and he doesn't count) I get hooked in. It's really hard to mediate between them because they both want to 'win' the argument. Generally I try to play the fence by validating some of both of their points but also pointing out their own faults. This usually doesn't go over well and then they just get mad at me too. And then everybody is all mad at each other. I just can't win.
Depending on the severity of the fight, they'll be back to normal in a few hours or they won't speak to each other for several days. It's really just a toss up after one of their stupid fights.
Mike is probably the most penny pinching man with a three-figure salary that I know. My father is so ridiculous that he steals ketchup packets and napkins from fast food places. Seriously, we haven't bought napkins in years. At the peak of his thriftyness, we would wait until there was literally nothing but pasta and canned vegetables in the house and then go mass grocery shopping after cutting coupons en masse and grabbing all the sale papers. Then we would go out and hit like five grocery stores to get the best of what each store had to offer. It drove Kelly nuts and eventually rising gas prices stopped those extreme measures, but anyway, you get the point.
In summer the thermostat in my house is usually set to 63 degrees. Kelly likes it to be at 62. They have literally had angry blow-out fights over one goddamn thermostat degree. I'm talking like to the point where they don't speak to each other for a couple of days. Dad gets angry because his argument is that you can't really feel a one degree difference, but your bill will reflect a one degree difference. Kelly, who is going through early pre-menopausal symptoms (ie hot flashes) disagrees on both counts and insists that one degree makes all the difference and that she refuses to 'sweat in her own house'.
So what basically ends up happening is this: Dad leaves at 5am to go to work and doesn't get home until about 3pm. Whenever Kelly makes it out of bed (she is notorious for sleeping in) she will go and turn the thermostat down at least one degree (but probably more) and then turn it up when she leaves for work. Her idea is that Dad never need know. Sometimes she forgets and thats when the argument starts all over again. Literally, the same argument will happen again. You'd think they would learn.
Another constant fight is Mom's lateness. Kelly has some of the worst ADD ever, and it's a partial cause to her chronic tendency to arrive anywhere late. She couldn't be on time to save herself. It used to embarrass me terribly as a kid, because nobody likes being the last kid picked up from school, from activities, etc. Especially because generally she's not just late, she's like 25 minutes late. And then I'd feel bad for making somebody else's parent have to wait for me. Let's just say that I actually made it to my dental appointments on time when I started driving myself. And it's not like we don't try to help her out. We've tried setting all the clocks in the house 20 minutes fast, told all her doctors to call and remind her that her appointment is at least 30 minutes earlier than it actually is, etc. Nope, doesn't really help much.
Dad, on the other hand, is a 'if you're not early, you're late' kind of person. He's almost obsessed with getting places right on time. This mentality comes in handy for doctors appointments and stuff, but when you're going to a party or a family gathering it's awkward being the first people there. Mike cannot for the life of him understand the concept of 'fashionably late'.
So really, everything we do as a family is basically a ticking time bomb. Dad's parents (Grandma & Grandad D) live about 45 minutes away. This is a typical family outing:
Days in advance Dad will tell Mom that he wants to leave at 1:25pm. The get together probably doesn't start until at least 3pm. At 1:25pm Kelly will probably have just gotten out of the shower. It doesn't really help that aside from being late, Kelly has a terrible time making decisions and does everything at the speed of a prehistoric tortoise. She is just really slow in general. So it will probably take her at least another hour to get dressed, do her hair, and pick out jewelry. And that's if she's rushing like mad.
2:30pm will roll around and Kelly will at least be clothed. If it's a good day, she'll be ready to leave (ie she will be dressed with her hair in rollers and she will do her makeup in the visor mirror of the van). If it's not a good day she'll be another 20 minutes.
Mike, of course, wanted to leave at around 2pm, regardless of what time he told Kelly. He gave her a 1:25 start time with some leeway built in, but once it gets past 2pm he starts to get mad. [As an aside, Danny and I were both most likely ready to leave at 1:25pm]. He'll tromp upstairs and start nagging her to get a move on it. By 2:30 they're yelling at each other. It's not like his persistent nagging is helping her get ready any faster. In fact, it probably slows her down since Kelly is incapable of doing two things at once. They'll fight for a few minutes and then Mike will give some sort of ultimatum (like 15 minutes or so) and stomp downstairs. He'll yell at Danny and I to get in the car.
With us in the car, Dad will start the car and grumble to himself. Mike doesn't have a long fuse on the best of days and once he gets mad he stays mad. And then it's like some nasty demon from another dimension takes over his mouth because he does not know when to shut it. Even after a fight is over he will continue to grumble ugly things under his breath and talk to himself. It really only makes things worse. He'll do that while he sits in the car, which is running. My parents will have been married 21 years this April and sometimes I don't understand why he doesn't just accept her lateness as a thing that happens. Or maybe not quite accept it, but stop to seriously work himself up over it. I mean, Kelly has been chronically late for most of her life and after two decades of marriage nothing much has changed. But Mike for some reason just can't get this through his neanderthal skull.
After another 10 minutes of car idling (which drives me nuts, because it's pollutionatory) he will angrily shut off the car and stomp back inside. He will yell something like, "FUCK THIS. I'M NOT GOING" and plop himself in the recliner and turn on ESPN.
That's when they both play the "I'm not going" game. Mike will refuse to go, and then Kelly gets pissed. If she fails to get him to come with us, she'll make me or Danny go in and beg him to go with us. Or if that fails, Kelly will declare that she's not going either. It's really really wack.
What usually happens after this is that we all end up going but Kelly and Mike will argue with each other for the first half of the car trip and then sit in stoney silence for the second half.
It's really weird, and really awkward and totally screwed up, but it's my family and I have to live with it. All I can really do is roll my eyes and slowly shake my head.
Now that I'm older and have actual social skills, I have attempted to mediate several arguments between them. Usually I didn't volunteer for this job, I just got dragged in. Somebody will be looking for validation for their points, and since I'm the only one there (besides Danny, and he doesn't count) I get hooked in. It's really hard to mediate between them because they both want to 'win' the argument. Generally I try to play the fence by validating some of both of their points but also pointing out their own faults. This usually doesn't go over well and then they just get mad at me too. And then everybody is all mad at each other. I just can't win.
Depending on the severity of the fight, they'll be back to normal in a few hours or they won't speak to each other for several days. It's really just a toss up after one of their stupid fights.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
This is approximately the opposite of what is true.
http://www.snorgtees.com/awesome-possum
I know this from real life experiences. This shirt is a falsehood in all respects.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Counting fail
Riddle me this: a five person house needs how many phonebooks?
Apparently the answer is 28.
City left 28 phonebooks on our front porch a couple of days ago. Wtf? Jesus, learn to math.
What does one do with 28 phonebooks exactly? I don't even flipping know. Right now they're just sitting next to the door. Soxhat suggested that we hide them around the house and then drink whenever we see one (I see what he did there). Do people even use phonebooks anymore? That's what the interwebz are for.
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