My vagina. It's like Snow White. As in, all the woodland creatures come running to it. Not as in seven dwarves follow it around and sing to it. Obviously.
Remember a few days ago when I wrote an incredibly lame post* about how'd I'd lost my funny? Yeah, I'm trying to forget it too.
Well I'm not sure if I've gotten my funny back, but I can't keep writing lame ass posts like that one, thus THE VAGINA. (you should be saying THE VAGINA in your head in a loud sing-songy voice kinda the way Oprah used to do to announce her guests on her show. or, if you're actually reading this post out loud, like to your kids or something, you can actually say it that way. however, if you are reading this to your kids, I kinda question your parenting skills. although I can see why you would be reading this to your kids since I mentioned Snow White, a favorite childhood fairy tale. but I also mentioned my vagina, so you know, maybe leave the kids outta this one.)
I have it on good authority that some of you are uncomfortable with the amount of vagina talk on this blog. In fact, I believe the quote was, "there's only so much vagina exploding I can take."
Time. Out. Vagina Exploding?
Who's vagina is exploding? And better yet, why? I can understand why there's only so much of that you can handle. That sounds terrible.
To my knowledge, vaginas don't explode. Uteri explode. Heads explode. But vaginas? No. Just no.
Actually, I'm sure those of you who have birthed a human could probably share some horribly awesome stories of vagina explosions, but maybe keep those stories to yourself.
Okay, fine. Share them with me if you must, but I can't promise I won't faint or throw up on you. I once watched a woman give birth in my developmental psychology class and it was traumatic.
Hmmm, perhaps I should clarify. The woman didn't give birth during class. We watched a video of her giving birth, with her vagina center stage. I told my mother it was the most unnatural thing I've ever seen and she told me it's the most natural thing there is.
And then my head exploded.
See? Heads explode. Vaginas don't. Unless birthing humans is involved, then, well...didn't we already cover this?
Wow, this post has taken an unexpected turn.
As I way saying, some of you are uncomfortable by all the vagina talk. However, I think it's important to note that most of the time when I talk about "vagina" I'm talking about the "vagina state of mind" not that thing between my legs.
"Thing between my legs." That makes me sound like I have a wiener. Which I DO NOT. Just want to be clear on that.
Can you please elaborate on what "vagina state of mind" means?
Sorry. I can't. You either have it or you don't. If you don't have it, don't despair. You can acquire it.
I have no idea. Try doing kegels or something. Also? There's a very good chance that if you're following this blog you already have a vagina state of mind. Congratulations.
Now, about my vagina, Snow White and the woodland creatures - and in this case I'm talking about my actual vagina, not a state of mind, so if that's too much for you to handle, I understand. Feel free to leave and come back when I'm blogging about puppies, which will probably never happen, so, nice knowing you, I guess.
Those of you who are my twats (for those of you new around here twats = my twitter friends) probably remember the night several months ago when I tweeted: "I don't want to alarm anyone, but I was just bitten on the vagina."
No you perverts, it's not what you're thinking. The husband was out of town and I was all alone.
As usual, my twats were very supportive. We tried to determine what exactly could have bitten me and we concluded it was either a bug or a ghost.
I know bug seems like the obvious choice, but I'm not totally convinced my house isn't haunted. Sometimes my dog stares at the wall, or the space in front of wall, and his eyes start moving like he's following something and his tail starts wagging and I'm like, "stop it! stop looking at it, there's nothing there! stop it! stop it!"
So clearly being bitten by a ghost was totally a possibility.
The verdict was up in the air until I felt something on my leg, my upper thigh to be exact. I figured it was lint, thread from my blanket, something and tried to brush it away. But it didn't move. So I looked down and OH SHIT! OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT!
It's a bug. A huge giant ass bug. Similar to a cockroach , but not a cockroach, but just as gross as a cockroach. You know the phrase blood curdling scream? Well there's a reason for it. Because I screamed so loudly my blood actually curdled. I also think I made myself deaf in my left ear.
It's important to note that I live in a townhouse, which means I share a wall with another person. We can hear each other when we sneeze so I know they heard me when I screamed my head off as though I were being murdered. Shockingly, they did not run to my rescue. Not even when I screamed again, threw my phone and fell over the back of the couch.
Did you guys catch the part where I said it was on my upper thigh? Do you know what is due north of the upper thigh? That's right, the vagina.
This was not the first time a creature had endeavored to make its way to my vagina. The first time I was on my way to party in which I knew like two people so me and my anxiety disorder were really looking forward to it. Just act normal, not too cool, not too weird, and on one will notice you're there. That's all I had to do. Just act normal.
But no. I decided I need to go to the bathroom and inspect whatever the hell was going on in my pants. When the husband and I had left the house, I felt something on my shin, but chalked it up to my dramatics. Then I felt something on my knee but assured myself it was nothing. By the time we got to the party and I'd poured myself a solo cup of punch from a gasoline can - the hell? - that "something" was now on my thigh.
I pulled my pants down and at first thought it was lint, but on closer inspection realized it was a lizard. An effing lizard in my pants! A LIZARD IN MY PANTS! ON ITS WAY TO MY VAGINA!!!
I proceeded to lose my shit, go white in the face and poke my head out of the bathroom and squeak for the husband. As you can imagine, people were lining up to be my friend. And by that I mean, everyone thought I was freak.
Oh well. At least I have the woodland creatures to keep me company, right?
*Remember when my incredibly lame post had a name-that-quote contest? Well, we have a winner! Let's all congratulate Catherine Dabels of the dabels divulge.
Catherine, I know you will be thrilled to accept your awesome prize. Here it is...