Got a message from my doctor, apparently my ultrasound’s all clear.
But it doesn’t really ease my mind.
The reality is, I know something’s different. So if that’s not it, what? But I’ve changed so much in my life in the last 18 months, and so much has changed on me, that a starting point for what’s going wrong is not so easy to find, since change isn’t always easy to peg as “right” or “wrong”. Continue reading →
See my last posting. I know nothing. Knowing nothing will be the status quo for a couple more days possibly.
I have nothing more to really say about it. I know nothing. Que sera sera.
I had an ultrasound. Anything there? I don’t know. When my technician found the ovaries, her demeanour changed. The conversation about my mother’s disease/death unravelled me a little at the start. Continue reading →
I should be bouncing madly, ready for the Von Bondies to take the stage shortly, but I bailed on my best friend for an evening at home, after a very emotional day. Please comment, but don’t do the well-meaning “Oh, Steff, you poor thing” stuff, ‘cos that usually gets me worked up and thinking I should be feeling sorry for myself rather than succeeding being strong.
So, I know it’s a full moon night. I know I’m overtired anyhow. I know my week was daunting the fuck out of me to begin with. I know these things. I’m sure this is nothing. I know THAT, too.
Nonetheless, my mind went spinning a million directions. Tears were had. More than once. And in my open-space office, even. Continue reading →
I can’t stand elitism. I can’t stand the “we’re better than you” mentality. And I sure as fuck can’t stand when someone’s got to get their hate on just to get ahead.
A particular blog post from someone in the sex blogging community is ridiculously sexist and moronic in its simplicity, in my opinion. Because I don’t feel the need to sling mud and hurt anyone’s reputations, I’ll leave it anonymous.
The blogger in question had a shitty day. Some guy, after she admitted she was responsible for causing a car accident, mouthed off with “It’s always the woman’s fault.” Because of this, she turned around and decided to slag all “privileged white males” as being asses.
Now, if she’d gone and said instead that she WORKS with privileged white males who are all asses, that’d be different, but her post more or less painted all as the same, and THAT is something I have a problem with.
Here’s the deal. Continue reading →
Hormones. I hate them.
Periods are a necessary evil in every woman’s life. What can we do? It’s there. Monthly. Looming dangerously and tauntingly on every lunar cycle.
My time used to be the full moon. Now, for some reason, I’m magically on the waxing half-moon. Which means I got caught by surprise at work. On a Monday. So, yeah, that happened. Nothing horrible, thank goodness. Just “Well, this is five days early. That’s lovely. And fuck you too.”
I never had a cunty-phase, though. I always have a “cuntday” a couple days before my period, sometimes the day before. I generally always have one great “ranting” bog post a month. You do the math. Continue reading →
Dear Toilet Paper Manufacturer:
You said your paper was soft and pure. It is, you claim, a “premium” paper.
Sadly, my clitoris disagrees.
I don’t know if you realize, but girl parts are sensitive. Nice soft fleshy bits, hypersensitive to touch and even sensation? Very?
My clitoris feels your product isn’t premium. That it, in fact, is cheap-ass. And scratchy. And turning Clitty into a very cranky, and raw, little thing. Poor Clitty.
At this point I would deem your product falls under FAIL. And I, too, fail for buying 36 rolls. And my clit fails for being an innocent bystander.
All I can now say is, Toughen up, Clitty. It’s gonna be a long, rough ride.
Thanks for nuthin’, not-so-premium paper company.
A Girl and Her Clit
Let’s talk sex toys today. Specifically, I’ll be reviewing The Stubby G.
First, I want to explain how a few things work for all y’all, since I know sex-blog readers see these reviews all the time, and, personally, I see that 95% of them are positive, so I could understand how review-readers might skeptically dismiss us one and all as rabid sex-toy fans who love everything that comes our way.
What you need to understand is, there are a couple different ways sex toy companies operate. Some will contact bloggers and go, “Hey, want to review toys?” and when our broke asses reply, “Dude! Yeah! I need me some O’s!” they’ll send us a box of toys, it gets opened, and inside is a bunch of shit they couldn’t sell and now the poor sucker who opened the box is on the hook to review hundreds of dollars of piece-of-shit toys. I threw out the toys One Company To Remain Unnamed sent me a couple years back — they weren’t fit for my body, for reviews, for nothing. Continue reading →
Men may balk if they see this is about periods, but they really should read it, methinks, for a little perspective.
Yesterday, during the afternoon of my Shitty, Shitty Day, I got my period. In the space of about 30 minutes, my eye infection suddenly started flushing itself out, and my emotions just totally took a chill pill. It was an amazing emotional about-face within about 90 minutes.
It’s not that often that I get all homicidally tense with my PMS, but I was getting there yesterday as just one thing after another added up into a really crappy day. After I wrote my whining post, for instance, my website wouldn’t load for me (making me think it was down) and I discovered I had a big (like 2-inch radius) infected bug bite on the inside of my knee. Plus an eye infection? Plus my just-verified cockroach infestation? Plus my yeast infection?
My friend was visiting and I literally looked skyward and just bellowed at the rhetorical gods, “REALLY? I really needed THIS too today?”
My friend cracked up, as did I, but I sure as hell meant every word. Then he left, I got my period, and I suddenly felt mellow again. Poof. Like that. Continue reading →
I couldn’t possibly feel more unattractive than I do today. Except maybe if I had an 8-inch goiter growing out of my neck and crumbling teeth or something.
I have an eye infection that has my left eye with this just-throttled-by-Rocky swollen-bloodshot look going on. That’s fun. Really.
Because that wasn’t fun enough, I’ve also come down with a vaginal yeast infection. (I’m so not even thinking about men right now, or sex, or arousal, or orgasms.)
Throw in the fact that I’ve just found out these ARE cockroaches in my apartment — German ones.
(My Twitters upon learning this were: “But it’s official. They were cockroaches. German Cockroaches. SS cockroaches. Brownshirts. Bad! They should have been gassed. Karma!” Followed by, “Snell! Snell! Achtung, roach! Achtung! At least now I know their language. “Ich liebe gas!”) Continue reading →
I’m sorry, but I often really, really hate the name of sex toys. And this is no exception.
From Emma’s Passion Garden comes the Dual Rose aka “The Lovely Rose.” Jesus, people. Fire the marketing department, because this toy deserves so much better. Really.
Nonetheless, when a guy was recently given the choice of what toy to invade my personal space with, this is the toy he thought looked most up to the job. 20 minutes later and we were both in agreement that his choice was a good one, and since the rest of the sexual encounter was a total waste of my time, I was pleased I’d had the foresight to give the bad loverman some tools toward pleasuring me. The Dual/Lovely Rose is a Rabbit-type vibe that aims to give you a double-dose of the feelin’-goods.
Obviously I have a hard time getting past bad product names or lame packaging, and I felt that the Rose came with both. And that’s why I was so pleasantly surprised that the toy itself is actually quite good. I mean, it succeeds in getting my knees shaking. Continue reading →