Jane’s Vagina G-uno

Just so you know you all aren’t the only ones who have to put up with my vaginal whining. Poor Jane has had more than a few earfuls along with the other friends in our little circle. It would seem though that I am the only one willing to openly gripe, and probe about the deteriorating condition of my uterus. I know for a fact that I am not the only one old enough to face these issues since I am third (She types proudly ūüėČ ) to the youngest in our little bunch.
Jane has me beat in the birthday department by a few years so after my repeated hounding she finally snapped saying she really didn’t see the point of dwelling on this subject. Now at this particular point I completely tucked away my despair due to my sudden amusement of her reaction. Yes I’m a horrible friend who is actually amused by her friend’s discomfort over subject matters that make them squirm. Jane in particular is still sensitive to her stripper pole injury that ended in her having to use a walker for a little while.
The injury has long since healed, but she is still touchy about my public ribbing in her doctor’s office. Okay a lot of ribbing even outside of the office too.See my post ” Love Hurts- When You Fall Off Your Stripper Pole.” I just wish I were able to completely convey the hilariousness of Jane when she is embarrassed by something. As I type this out loud it occurs to me that if she were as awful a friend as I am she would have realized that I had actually given her some pretty good ammunition to retaliate. Lucky for me she was so uncomfortable with my “Vagina monologue” that the idea has not even occurred to her.
Finally Jane confesses that my vagina isn’t the only one with drought issues. Her face scrunched up, and her left eye twitching nervously. Seeing the eye twitch immediately lowers my maturity number to the single digit level. So I lean forward holding my imaginary interview microphone, and ask her how she’s bringing rain to her desert. She physically scoots farther away from me on the couch, then snaps “That this is the exact reason why she does not want to have this discussion with me!” So of course I scoot closer to her with my imaginary microphone in hand, and say ” Jane what kind of friend refuses to share her dried up vagina stories with a friend inquiring minds want to know?” Her eye stopped twitching while her middle finger shot up, then she made a “Target Lady at Christmas dash for her bar.
¬†I run over next to her promising to never call her vagina a desert again as tears stream down my cheeks trying to control my laughter. Jane slaps my arm, then asks me what exactly did I want to know? My first question was why she never brought this subject up to me? Okay dumb question I know, but there is seriously some great secrecy out there with women who are experiencing some betrayal from their own vaginas. Then she looks me straight in the eye, and asks me “How much humor was I finding with in my own desert?” Yep, it’s all fun & games until it’s your dried up vagina. ūüėČ

, , , , , , ,

1 Comment

So What Happens When Your Sex Drive Becomes Hormonally Challenged? G-uno

I have to say that I thought nothing about aging would make me any more annoyed than getting use to wearing glasses every time I need to read something. Well how wrong was I? Now life has taken a completely different turn, and I have to admit I’m pretty angry about the way it has effected Mr. G-uno, and I’s sex life. Any one who has been in a long-term relationship will tell you that it’s hard work balancing two humans wants, desires, and needs on an ongoing basis.
Mr G-uno, and I have been at this for over 34 years. I have been completely spoiled in one area of our relationship. Our sex life has always been the most compatible part of our relationship. We ran on automatic pilot, and our biggest obstacle was finding time to be alone to do what we like doing best. In other areas we are complete opposites. We are both strong-willed, we both think our way is the best way so there has never been a lack of passion either inside the bedroom, or outside. The saving grace no matter how explosive we are as a couple is the sex.
It’s always been the one area where we are explosive, and completely in synch, That is until “The Magical Vagina” became ¬†hormonally challenged. ¬†Hormone replacement therapy is not an option for me because of genetic predisposition¬†health issues. To be perfectly honest I can learn to deal with experimenting with sexual lubricants. It’s wrapping my mind around the loss of who I have always been that scares me. More importantly the loss of who Mr G-uno, and I have always been sexually.
So what do you do? In my case when I finally faced what was going on with me, I just sat Mr. G-uno down to make sure he knew that nothing had changed between us. My issues have nothing to do with him being less attractive, or less desirable. I have to pull up my big girl pants, and adjust to this next phase of my life. The thought that scares me is that it does change us.

 

, , , ,

4 Comments

The Vaginal Trap G-uno

The female vagina is quite possibly one of the great mysteries in life. Women like men sometimes name their secret spot. I have been known to call my own “The Magical Vagina” on more than one occasion, g-2 even trade marked my pet name at one point. Lately though I have revoked her (my “Magical Vagina”) of the privilege due to the fact that she has become a traitorous bitch.
Being a female I have experienced more than a few back- stabbings from other vaginally equipped species of my gender, but the betrayal of my very own “Magical Vagina” was a completely harsh blow. I’m not exactly sure why I thought my personal vagina would be impervious to the symptoms of “The Big M” (Menopause), but I did. I find being betrayed by one’s own vagina to be unsettling in more than one way.
The secrecy of the well-known betrayal runs deeper than one might imagine. Aside from “Frankie & Grace” no one seems to want to talk about it. I guess for women it’s on the same level as erectile dysfunction, there seems to be a great deal of shame attached to the whole phenomena. This shame has some pretty deadly side effects, and should come with some strong warning labels like-…

 

  1. Warning your vagina can suddenly go from being a lush garden to a dry, and barren desert. Side effects include painful sexual encounters, the forced practice of finding compatible lubricants, and God forbid vaginal tearing.
  2. ¬†You may find yourself being secretly ambushed over a period of time by a diminishing sex drive caused by a depression that sneaks up on you like a terrorist in an airport. The terrorist (Menopause) is there right under your nose. You know it exists, but it’s attack is somehow surprisingly devastating.
  3. Dealing with the psychological realization that you have to first accept, then deal with your no longer “Magical Vagina” can cause you to unknowingly leave your sexual partner feeling unwanted, and undesirable.
  4. The fear that your sex life will never be the same again may cause severe bouts of irrational thinking/bizarre reactions. Such as the demonizing of your own genitalia. resulting in such things as revoking her previously glorious title “The Magical Vagina!” ūüėČ

, , , , , , , , ,

2 Comments

existential crisis (g2)

I believe all of us go through various stages of our lives where we look up and suddenly think, “I HATE my life right now.”

I did that just before I got a divorce. I did the same when I hated the job and the town I lived in and just found out I was going to be a parent and moved a couple thousand miles back.

I had the same ¬†when Spawn was a few years old and my career was… well, really fucking boring and leaving me strapped. It was mindless, repetitive, and just when I was done and updating my resume, I received a call from a former boss who wanted to lure to me their current company. Not only would I be using more of my brain, it held a significant pay raise.

It was great too, for a while. But one of my co-workers was as mercurial as they come and I was often walking on eggshells. The work itself was great and I was learning a ton, but the environment… not so much. However, a friendly buyout that turned hostile takeover nixed that job for all of us. The best time I had there was when the mercurial one jumped ship early on and the rest of us just didn’t give a shit anymore.

I landed this job right as I was ending that one. The work itself is a¬†mostly mindless again, but the pay, on paper, is better. What I get to take home though, is significantly less than it was at my last job and although I know the benefits are a part of that, I didn’t think they were that big of a chunk.

We’re given no authority over our own position, but then they complain that no one takes initiative. Neither owner can keep their hands out of the cookie jar when things are good, and don’t hesitate to jump your shit when they aren’t. Hell, the CFO’s mom just died last week and one of the owners commented to her yesterday “What the hell is wrong with you, you look like your dog died?” She broke down so badly she had to go home.

Right now, things aren’t so great and its all to do with that fact that when we’re in our busy profitable season, the owners couldn’t buy new toys fast enough, despite my boss continually telling them we would need to sock away what we could for the lean season. They assume no one has their grand vision, ¬†so any counsel is ignored.

This is also when I’m told my communication needs work. I’m the connection the outside world comes to when they want information and when things aren’t going so well, that communication increases by several fold. It means I have to come in and choose whether I’m going to do my job or just sit there and get back to people and I do balance both. But the bottom line is I’m never going to be able to make¬†someone happy if I can’t give them¬†what they were promised and that’s what they want me to do.

So I hate my job. I hate where I live. I hate that I hate both so much that I’m both restless and uninspired to do even the little things. I hate the debt I hold for a degree that has proven nothing but worthless and I feel that it will inhibit everything else I do for the rest of my life.

I want to move, I want to have a cafe, on the side of a cliff with a view to the ocean and I want it too fucking cold to see even a single surfer unless they are batshit insane.

But for not, I would settle for moving to the area where I hope my daughter’s future school is and get a job that lets me take home the amount I was promised, or at least a significantly bigger portion than current.

I want to get just a little ahead instead of struggling so far behind.

I want to be inspired.

I want to be challenged mentally.

I feel like a corpse in motion.

, , ,

Leave a comment

You should’ve asked

Emma

Here is the english version of my now famous ‚ÄúFallait demander‚ÄĚ !

Thanks Una from¬†unadtranslation.com¬†for the translation ūüôā

You should've asked_001You should've asked_002You should've asked_003You should've asked_004You should've asked_005You should've asked_006You should've asked_007You should've asked_008You should've asked_009You should've asked_010You should've asked_011You should've asked_012You should've asked_013You should've asked_014You should've asked_016You should've asked_017You should've asked_018You should've asked_019You should've asked_020You should've asked_021You should've asked_022You should've asked_023You should've asked_024You should've asked_025You should've asked_026You should've asked_027You should've asked_028You should've asked_029You should've asked_030You should've asked_031You should've asked_032You should've asked_033You should've asked_034You should've asked_035You should've asked_036You should've asked_037You should've asked_038You should've asked_039You should've asked_040

View original post

Leave a comment

Jane Tells Tarzan That She Slept With Ex-hubby (G-uno)

In the spirit of truthful beginnings Jane decided to confess that she had slept with her Ex-hubby while she, and Tarzan were broken up. As you might imagine this was a complete disaster! As if Tarzan wasn’t already swimming in the land of insecurities regarding Jane he now found himself insanely jealous. He was also pretty pissed. Sex with the Ex rarely turns out to be a good decision, and sharing that information with someone you hope to build a relationship with is an even worse decision,
Don’t get me wrong I am a huge fan of telling the truth, but I’m an even bigger fan of leaving Exes in the Ex zone. Why did Jane tell him about her disastrous slip you ask? Well the even better question here is why she decided to tell him this after the first time she, and Tarzan slept together since their break-up. Jane said that after making love to Tarzan she was filled with guilt. She said that she just decided to put it all out there rather than taking the chance of Ex-hubby being the one to¬†let the cat of the bag in the long run.
I absolutely got the logic in that concept, it was the timing that threw me off the deep end. I probably would have opted for confessing before the reunion sex. ūüėČ

, , , , , ,

11 Comments

i really need stop thinking heavy shit while driving (g2)

So I’m driving¬†one very bland day with nothing whatsoever striking to catch my attention, listening to a CD Spawn selected that I have really been enjoying and letting my mind wander.

I’m not sure why my head seems to want to direct my thoughts to heavy shit when my emotional stability isn’t very much under my control, but with one of the most bigoted, sexist, racist, fuckheads that has ever walked the planet now swathed in the title of “Mr. President”, I cannot help but wonder what the hell is happening to our society, especially when I’m bombarded with the amount of stupid shit he does every day.

The job of reporter in the US is no longer about getting to the “truth” and backing it up with sound researched information, it is now bought and paid for by a corporate agenda. And that applies to all of them now, even NY Times has fallen to the bullshit.

In order for the average US citizen to find truth, you have to look to comedy or foreign news. Yes, I said comedy. Because it is the last frontier where if you wanted to suck up to the GOP or a corporate sponsorship, you’d get booed off the stage before you could finish a set. ¬†We know when we’re being fed shit in comedy, not so much when they call it “news.”

Crime is at an all time low, and is still dropping drastically, but no one ever hears about it. The wage gap still exists, but there are plenty of pseudoscience trying to convince you it isn’t. I see the invoices, every temp company we go through has at LEAST a 2-3 buck an hour disparagement between the guy and the girl hired to do the same fucking thing. Even one of my more intelligent and fair minded coworkers sincerely believes it doesn’t exist.

However, I found my thoughts not landing on these things, so much as race.

When people talk about the way the legal system is skewed to keep minorities in jail, they mean things like this… In this country, cocaine is mostly a white consumed drug (who besides lawyers or those who can keep one on retainer can afford it anyway?) Crack, being cocaine’s inbred ¬†diluted cousin, is a mostly minority consumed drug because it is cheaper and markets to a lower income bracket. The max¬†time a person can spend in jail for crack is almost twice what a person with cocaine would have to serve and they don’t have to carry much to get the book thrown at them.

I live in the South. Born here. Raised here. Went to a school that was about 60% black and completely freaked out when I moved to the midwest for several years and saw almost none. ¬†It’s a real culture shock when you’re used to seeing more colors and shades in your crayola box of life and become suddenly surrounded with many shades of nothing put pink instead.

The black culture, despite or perhaps TO spite the horrific origin, have enhanced the culture in our area of the map in ways not seen anywhere else. I cannot imagine life without the blues, Creole, small pockets of held out languages, hoodoo, superstitions, or voodoo. The fierce defiance in spite of a calm facade is, to me, the mark of black culture. The passion for religion, music, family and vast support for one another.  The pride in spite of years of putting up with epic bullshit.

There’s just nothing like it.

Then I think about now when we have people who feel that since they got their white piece of shit in office, are now welcome, if not encourage, to come out and say whatever hate speech they want and they are somehow among kin. The next step being taking action? doing whatever they want without the risk of consequence, at most? For those that visit that link, fuck you CNN for just naming the victim and not billboarding the mf’ers names who actually DID the crime!¬†Shawn Berry, Lawrence Russell Brewer, and John King, fucking die.

Those are the faces of a Trump supporter.

I think of Sandra Bland and how they ruled it “suicide” and alluded to “mental health,” as being part of her problem…if I was thrown in jail over a fucking traffic violation, you can call it “mental health” all you want, but I’d be ready to stab a bitch. I sure as shit would be making notes of badge numbers and calling any loudmouth I could to make as much noise about it as I could. On the slim chance she did really take her own life, which I don’t believe, can you blame her? After being treated like that? She’s probably put up with it her whole life.

I think of the cops that are mandatory now on school premises. Then I’m stunned when I’m trying to find the link to the ONE instance I know of, to find out abuse by cop towards CHILDREN is getting massively fucking common. The only difference between the American schools and the prison system is the latter gets a better lunch and a real recess.

This isn’t an isolated incident and it happens in a million subtle ways every single day. I go into a store where¬†a group of minority kids are lingering near the door, chatting and laughing and just being, well kids. As i approach, they talk suddenly ceases. I can see the fear in their faces that I’m going to somehow cinch up my bags, or cross the street, or say something offensive. They brace for it. How fucked up is that? I don’t blame them in the slightest, I know why, it just kills me to still see it now.

Missing children organizations are less likely to give ideal exposure to minority children, the excuse being that too many children being posted would dilute the sense of urgency among the community. Then fix the system so it notifies those in the area, you dumbasses, keep it relevant to the people in the region they disappeared in, then move out as needed¬†I was nowhere near the Jon-Benet Ramsey story, did I really need her face thrust in mine every day? There’s a couple thousand miles of impossibility going on there.

When they talk about the wage gap as being about 80%, they are referring to the people in office jobs like I am, but what they don’t go over is that that when you add the minority element or just¬†compare those in service industries, that gap can be as bad¬†as 50%. It’s no wonder that so many minority mothers have to work multiple jobs to make ends meet.

I even thought about how the Women’s March had a great message and sure, it’s a great cause and its kind of sad when half the population of a country kind of hates its new leader. But it didn’t represent women at all well, and here’s the problem…The women who had to go to¬†job 2 or 3, the ones most bitterly affected by the disparagement, cannot afford to show up for fear of losing their livelihood. So there is a huge chunk of women who just couldn’t come, and they are the most needed.

The ones most heavily affected by racial and sexist bullshit don’t even have the time and energy to complain. Few are in positions where they can take vacation time or make up the time later because the system is rigged to keep them oppressed. They could be fired for not going above and beyond the expectations of their minimum wage overlords. I’m looking at you, Wal-Mart.

Then my mind wandered to the young mixed race couple who had twins not so long ago, one pale and blonde, the other more of a mocha with eyes like onyx. Both identical otherwise, both adorable. If gives me a lot of hope to read, years later, they don’t deal with racial prejudice. Then I remember. Thankfully, they aren’t American.

Otherwise,¬†one of them was going to be privy to “the talk.”

The talk where a minority parent has to sit down and explain to their minority child to never get visibly hostile, especially in the face of “authority” because doing so might get you killed. No matter how badly you’re being treated or baited into becoming violent, don’t do it, because cops, teachers, principals, the law, and anyone of non-color could very well be out to get you, to make you a monster. To use you as an example to keep oppression and racism alive and well

.And the thought of that cherub face having to be told that the world has a deep-seeded and irrationally violent fear of her for no other reason than by the color of her skin just hit me so hard I started sobbing to the point where I nearly had to pull over to get it all out.

I spent most of the day trying not to think about it because my eyes were sore and I know Spawn was wondering if I was getting sick and I really really didn’t want to have to go into it for fear I’d be rendered unable to speak. Nothing upsets a kid more than a parent being upset, I’ve found. Even if the reason for it should upset the hell out of everyone.

At a time when we WERE showing so much promise, so much evolution to our own thinking by FINALLY electing not based on ¬†color, but intelligence, stoicism, wisdom… and then going this… the complete opposite of the ideal of unity, equality, fairness, kindness…. I cannot help but wonder how bad this period of backsliding has to get before we’ve just had enough.

, , , , ,

Leave a comment

%d bloggers like this: