dealing with pain and dysfunction


I have a very evil bread in my vagina

There was a very timely Jezebel post today that described the total fucking unfairness of women’s health (my post title is from the comments section–I think I said something similar when I had a yeast infection in Mexico).  I’ve written about this a few times before–why in the hell should I spend an entire day screwing around with a doctor’s visit, an invasive exam/urine test, a long wait at the pharmacy–oh, wait, they’re out of stock/are closed/hate me, all when I know damn well exactly what is wrong with my and my mystery vagina?! And don’t forget the extra dose of condescending asshattery that is all too common among doctor-types.

For this month’s vaginal woes, I’ve been eating lots of yogurt, taking lots of “so-called homeopathics”, and avoiding the brownies I made with my roommate last night.  And let me tell you, I want a brownie so badly right now I could just cry.  Since I tend to hoard prescription drugs, I even popped a Diflucan I had laying around (take that, medical institution!  You think you can force me to waste my time?) but it hasn’t worked.  Again.

In other adventures of the malevolent vag, the stabbity night pains are back!  I didn’t miss them at all.  Every once in awhile, I’ll be sound asleep, nice and peaceful, and then BAM, awake and writhing in pain.  It’s a really sharp burst of stabbing pain, but afterwards I’ll be tense for a long time.  Meh.  I’m pretty over this crap.  But it gives me an excuse to buy really, really good cranberry juice (seriously, Knudsen cranberry nectar?? ilu), since cranberries can probably fix every problem that ever existed.  As usual, the moral of the story:  my vagina = suxxx, cranberry juice = WIN.


i am gonna make it through this year if it kills me.

we have all the same friends and they all like him better than me

if i told people they’d think i was an asshole

he’s way hotter than me so people would think it’s a compliment or that i’m lying

it’s best to not cause a scene and pretend to be totally cool about it

it’s close to the end of the year anyway, what good would come of saying something?

just in general, what good would come of saying anything?

i was drinking way too much

i’d slept with him a few times before anyway

it’s easier to play it off as a hilarious, if awkward, story (i stole his corkscrew as i was leaving!  ha ha!) than actually think about it

“i want to go home” isn’t a forceful enough “NO”

i’m just being way too dramatic

just because i don’t remember how i got to his apartment doesn’t mean i didn’t want to go, right?

if, when asked how i got there, he told me i was “playing hard to get” and he had to “like, physically force me” then…

oh wait, i guess shit just got a lot more difficult to rationalize away as a funny mistake between friends.

for the aforementioned reasons i’ll continue to shut up about it and keep acting like it’s totes hilarious, but i wanted the internet to know that last night someone actually had the gall to announce to me at a bar—in public!—that he “physically force[d]” me into his apartment a couple weeks ago.  i’m glad i don’t remember that part.  even making a little blog entry that no one will read feels like i’m being a hysterical prude.  anyway, there’s not really anyone for me to talk about this with, so, whatev.  i’m keeping the fucking corkscrew.

on topic:  this is the same guy that i had the horrifically awkward vulvodynia discussion with last summer, and when i got all “wtf happened” he looked really upset and asked if he had, “y’know, hurt me” (shifty gesture to my pelvis).  no, my vagina’s pretty cool most of the time nowadays, it’s just that you should maybe reconsider your idea of “fun” if it involves forcing extremely inebriated women to come home with you.  just a thought though, dude.

all the people that have been so shitty to me this year are only going to matter for four more months.  there will be no more running into them or trying super duper hard to hang out with them just so i stop being such a homebody shut-in.  i’m sure “real life” is just as cliquey and terrible as high school and college were, but fuck.  i’m going to get a puppy and we are going to love each other.  and the people that actually do matter will be there for it.

the things that are getting me through this day:  puppy face and beat control (i was at this MHoW show in august 08 and it remains one of my very favorite memories, plus the lyrics are just what i need)