The Neapolitan.

Every year I mock Terrence for his t-shirt tans aka farmer tans and he only recently began to try harder to ward them off, i.e. applying sunblock occasionally. Earlier this Summer I joked with him about putting sunblock on the already tan parts of his upper body and leaving the rest to catch up in color. I guess I said it enough because Monday at the beach he actually did it. Halfway into it he said he was going to quit and apply sunscreen as a precaution since he had started to feel he’d had enough sun, but got sidetracked and forgot. Needless to say we spent the entire time at the beach with him only half blocked.

I was just teasing him after looking through some of the photos I had taken, I decided he can be some sort of circus sideshow attraction, “The Amazing Sunburned Man”. I think we could make a decent cash flow.

But all joking aside I really do feel sorry for him, the poor guy can barely move without bellowing in pain. Aside from his own vanity he did only do it because of my constant mockery of his hideous farmer tan. HAHA! No, it is still kind of funny. Maybe it’s because I don’t know what a sunburn feels like, being that I’m Hispanic I don’t burn in the sun, I brown. I also didn’t put sunblock on as a show of solidarity, Terrence is always wishing I would tan a little so he can show off his dark and exotic Spanish girlfriend. I got one shade browner almost instantly… no pain, no wait, no disgusting peeling.

I’m actually slightly excited to peel Terrence, I think it’s fun. It satisfies that child in me that poured glue all over her hands to peel it back in large pieces. Oh, the excitement.

Nothing went right.

So to start off our vacation a few things went wrong. We had a bit of a struggle to find a last minute replacement sitter for our animals and though we found two suitors neither will be able to spend full time with them, so poor needy Dutch and Penny are gonna have to lone it out for a bit at a time. We left early Saturday morning in the midst of a thunderstorm so already Dutch was mid heart attack as I walked out the door.  I was a crying mess walking away from my furry children, it took me quite some time to regain my composer.

Before we even pulled out of our parking spot Terrence out of reflex threw on the rear windshield wiper forgetting that the bike rack was blocking it and so now that’s busted.  Halfway to Cape Cod we realized that the odd smell that we assumed was the motor burning out on the rear wiper was in fact Terrence’s front bicycle tire melting from the heat of the exhaust.

Upon arriving at our destination the woman we were renting the cottage from was nowhere to be found nor was she answering her phone… eventually we found her husband and he informed us that we were two hours early for check in.  We scoped out the cottage that looked no bigger than our livingroom and began to worry that it wasn’t gonna be large enough to accommodate two couples for a week.  Instead of freaking out we got some lunch and found a bike repair shop.  Thankfully, though a very tiny space it did in fact have two bedrooms.

It was sweltering inside the cottage and one of the three fans was busted upon arrival, at the end of the night Terrence was setting up the remaining two and dropped one of them breaking it and rendering it useless… this vacation is a bit sweaty to say the least.

And I believe lastly on our string of bad luck aside from the nonstop raining was the enormous riptides that were swallowing the beaches of Wellfleet, MA.  Beaches were closed off and we were sad.  For fun yesterday we decided to go and check these giant waves out… holy shit, they weren’t kidding.  We were walking almost against the sand walls and were still getting devoured by these crashing waves at times.  It was an awesome site and though it was inconvenient to our vacation to have the beaches closed I was certainly glad that I witnessed this site.  I sat back and watched as Terrence behaved like a 6-year old sneaking up in the shoreline and running away from the waves only to be beaten most of the time.  At some point a few seals even joined in on the party and I had even more adorable objects of interest.

I’m hoping that with that joyful afternoon our string of bad luck is over and we can enjoy the rest of our week.  I’ll keep you posted and I’ll keep Terrence away from all breakables.

Old flame.

So I was just catching my breath between cleaning rooms and caught an interview on SNY with Ryan Church previously of the NY Mets and currently of the ATL Braves. I was so hurt, it was the exact pain generally reserved for seeing your ex-boyfriend looking happy with his new girlfriend. I immediately wanted to strip my clothes off and lure him back to me with ex-sex that a week later we would both regret. Oh but for that brief week before realizing exactly why it was we had broken up in the first place we would be so happy.

Do I need a reason?

Today the rare occasion arose that Terrence had to go into the AOL offices to write and take care of some PR stuff that I know nothing of. Today was also one of my many days off. so a bit after or before 8am (I can’t be too sure) he came and laid down beside me on the bed and hugged, kissed and told me in his best lying voice about how pretty I was and said good bye. About an hour later my groggy ass got out of bed and stumbled to the office to find my screen littered with tiny yellow post-it notes. He’s adorable, when we first moved into this apartment and he worked in Midtown he always left me little notes around the apartment for me to find when I woke up, I enjoy knowing even four years later that he still loves me and that sometimes he’s still cute.

Pit skin rug.

Within the last few months Dutch has a established this tendency to hover. He follows me from room to room and lays down nearby, a lot of times he’s very quite about this and I accidentally step on him. I doubt that a day goes by when I don’t unexpectedly step on him, at this point he hardly even notices.

But every time that I do step on him I apologize gratuitously. I wonder all the time if he can read the sincerity in my tone of voice. But usually I just assume he thinks I’m a jerk.

Minerva’s just fine.

For the last year my mother has been sick with leukemia, she’s had cancer twice before in the last twenty-five years so I try to be fairly confident that my mother is superwoman and will be fine. I tried my best to put my best happy face on and wait it out with her. It doesn’t seem to be going anywhere though and most of our conversations end with her feeling dizzy and short of breathe and needing to lay down. I pretend that it’s nothing usually. Lately she’s become less confident about her survival and makes comments about not being around for things, I ignore that too.

For some reason the topic of my biological clock kept coming up yesterday, this is a topic often brought up by my impatient girlfriends when they’re judging my relationship. In case you didn’t know Terrence had a sort of quarter life break down two years ago and decided he no longer wanted to get married or have children, he’s also against anyone else doing it… it’s weird and I think he might be crazy but I wait it out and hope for the best, trust me I’m in no rush. But my friends worry about me getting too attached to a man that doesn’t want the same things out of life as I do, they check in from time to time to see if Terrence’s alien probe has been turned off and ask if he’s normal again yet. He’s for some time been threatening to get a vasectomy to ensure no mishaps and this was the topic at hand last night… over and over again.

I guess all this baby talk was fresh in my head today or something because out of nowhere I began to think about my grandmother and me and started to cry while driving. I never knew my maternal grandmother, cancer took her about four months before I was born, she and my mother were very close and her last words to her my mom were to tell her she would have a daughter and ‘she will be as good to you as you’ve always been to me.’ So my mother named me for her and all my life I’ve been told stories of my amazing grandmother from everyone in my family. I’ve always been jealous that I never knew her and felt kind of robbed of a priceless life experience. So I was thinking of my grandmother and me and immediately thought that my children would have that same deprived feeling about not knowing my amazing mother and it clicked with me and I got really scared for about 1 minute before I shook it off and continued driving.

About thirty minutes ago I was sitting on the couch watching television when out of nowhere I began thinking about breast feeding and what happens to your breast after having a kid, when it happened again… this feeling of panic. I always assumed my mother would teach me all the things I needed to know about being a mom and she’d give me all the tips and tricks that she always told me she would when the time came. As I write this I’m still trying to shake away the panic of losing my mother and not having her there for the most important phases of my life. I’d always assumed that I’d start to think about having children in my mid thirties when I was established and lived some sort of semblance of a life, now I’m starting to feel that stupid clock people talk to me about. My mother became pregnant with me in August… maybe the universe is fucking with me. She’s gonna be fine, she has to be and that’s that… feeling shaken.

Playlist: July

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I don’t have much left to say about July and its musical weakness, I did however find a decent amount of quality tracks to toss you. So what if I cheated a little by putting Discovery on the playlist twice, first of all I couldn’t leave out the Jackson’s cover and I couldn’t just leave you the impression that they were some kind of lame ass band that was only good for cover songs… whatever, you’re just lucky I didn’t upload the entire album and leave it at that for July, trust me I was tempted.

Top 5 albums of July.

This is the hardest post for me to have to write… and that’s saying a lot for a girl that openly talks about her vagina to strangers and stalkers. July was a massively disappointing month for music. Aside from the Discovery album I’d say that the rest of this list is filler, these albums can’t stand alone and would under normal circumstances not even be in a league with many of the previous top 5 candidates… but like I said July = Fail. Isn’t Summer supposed to be the best time for music? I put off this post for as long as I could, hoping I would stumble upon some hidden gem out there in the music world but this is as far as I got. This post may seem a bit brash, these aren’t bad albums… I like them, they’re good times… I just feel like music is getting a little lazy.

5. Megafaun’s Gather, Form & Fly
4. Rainbow Arabia’s Kabukimono
3. YACHT’s See Mystery Lights
2. jj’s jj n° 2
1. Discovery’s LP

My vagina’s seen worse.

So about a month ago I got some jolting news. I recently touched upon the topic of my vanishing periods but what I left out was the terror that went along with it. I had convinced myself that I was barren and that my period had given up on me and the idea that I would ever grow up and have children. Mean. So I had blood tests done and missed the call when the results were in. It took me weeks to gather the nerve to call for them and when I finally got it up couldn’t get in touch with my doctor for anything. Finally I got her to call me back and she said my blood tests came back normal. Which was a two second sigh of relief since she almost in the same breath told me that my recent pap had not been normal and that they would have to perform a biopsy to be sure I didn’t have cervical cancer. I cried a lot, everyone thought I was being silly and overreacting. They all said it was no big deal and that it’s super common and usually means nothing. Either way… no one likes to hear the words cancer from a doctor. I was fucking scared.

Thankfully I belong to the worst gynecologist practice ever and I had to wait an entire month before the actual biopsy would occur. It gave me plenty of time to procrastinate away my health and to build up an indestructible wall of fear.

When the time finally came I was standing in the room where a portion of my cervix would meet its ultimate demise, I looked up towards the computer monitor when the previous occupants cervix was waving hello to me on the screen. Nice. Very professional, at least it gave me a decent chuckle.

And then 25 minutes into shaking naked draped in a tissue paper apron my doctor had finally emerged. Here we go, the main event I’d been waiting for. The nurse was shocked that I had reached 25-years without having had one of these procedures done about a dozen times… so apparently it’s more common than I thought. Every step was explained to me and I was introduced to all the instruments and liquids… my favorite being the jug labeled “acid”. AWESOME! You could imagine the back-flips my vagina was performing.

Also for an added bonus my usual gynecologist doesn’t perform these procedures, she’s pretty much useless for anything that isn’t yelling at me at the reception desk or treating me like a whore while annually adding in extra VD tests because she’s appalled that Terrence and I aren’t married but still choose to solely rely on birth control as our only contraceptive. Nearly 5 years and a promise of forever mean nothing to her without a ring. Cunt. What was my point? OH! So I had to have a gentleman gyno do this procedure. When I was a little girl I saw The Hand That Rocks The Cradle and have since never trusted male doctors of any kind. I’m almost certain he fondled something when the nurse wasn’t looking… that pig. Actually he was kind of awesome. Much better at the whole bedside manner thing than that regular cunt of mine. He talked to me and joked around to put me at ease, he asked about Terrence and we had a discussion about our plans to not get married but remain as we are, I told him about when I jokingly said no to Terrence after his third proposal and he agreed with my being too young to be married and applauded our relationship dedication. No judgment, it was nice… made me rethink my hatred of male doctors a little.

Once the small talk was over and the walk through began I had to find my power animal and focus on anything but the pain. The actual cutting of my cervix wasn’t all that bad, unpleasant but nothing a deep breath couldn’t handle. What was horrible though was the application of the clotting agent. My power animal was failing me at this point, as was my breathing. He said I would feel a bit of cramping but it felt more like I was about to birth a child or something, it was terrible. It took a whole lot of strength not to jerk my body away from this evil sadist and scream for him to get out of me. At this point I felt everything, the speculum that was stretching me out more than I’d ever been and the swabs swishing back and forth with that bullshit liquid. I was fighting back the tears as he began to remove all instruments of torture and clean up.

As I stood to dress I couldn’t help but tremble with the aftershock of pain. A bit of cramping my ass. When I ran out to Terrence in the waiting room I wanted to wrap my arms around him and cry, I felt like Penny in Dirty Dancing after that traumatic abortion. I couldn’t wait to get out of there so I could stop being brave and just cry. I never did though. I got over it in a few minutes and an hour or so later the crampquakes subsided.

I’m beginning to question if I’ll ever be able to one day achieve a natural child birth if I can’t even handle a cervical biopsy.

I have to wait another 4 weeks for my results. This should be fun.