Tag Archives: vaginas

goodwill cuntington

posted by:  audra

did you enjoy the play-by-plays of the vadge doctor experience?  of course you did!  everyone loves hearing about speculums & globs of blood flying out of a vagina!  or at least i do.  just sayin’.

i think i mentioned the other day about how we do have some other things going on…so, more antecedents for which we only seem to be lame as of late:

we’ve been so busy, biscuits & me.  why?  wait for it…we’re  finally moving.

i know, right?!  like, across town!  across a river even!  into a house!  and away from our le douche deluxe ‘hood!  where there are actual black people…even hipsters & hippies!   and where we are closer to a cute little co-op than we are to the nearest safeway.  sigh!  a bubbling dutch oven of braised culture & better fashion awaits us.  yes it does.

this, of course, has caused us to totally panic in anticipation, due to the enormous size of our collection of shit.  this house is way cuter and slightly bigger, but has way less storage.  it was built in 1917, so, that was way before it was common for the average gal to have 75 handbags & 90 pairs of shoes.

speaking of which–i cleaned out my closet last weekend.

don’t get all into a tizzy yet–i didn’t get rid of anything that good–mostly just a bunch of flats i used to wear to the winery.  some chunky heels i’ve been hanging onto since i was 19, too.  i also have this super-nice, but weird-fitting cocktail/halter dress.  it’s really cute on the hanger but exacerbates the genetic betrayal that is my legacy.  it’s been in my closet for 4 years.  the tags are still on it.  it was really fucking expensive.  i’ll probably never wear it.  i opted to keep it.

what i did get rid of:  15 leather handbags & 22 pairs of shoes…and then another 5 pairs i found later…as well as about half of my closet.  i mean, i only wear like, the same 4 rotating outfits anyway…my entire closet is literally jammed full, waaaay past its capacity, as is my dresser…and i never wear any of it.  ever.  i told sam on our 5th carload to the goodwill donation center, “so this is how cute things end up at the goodwill!”  it’s true.  attractive, stylish people who live in terrible, suburban neighbs inevitably have to get rid of large quantities of good shit when they move into an urban neighb.   if you’re ever in goodwill & see a really rad, vintage blue & white colander with a tiny bit of rust on it, it’s mine.  make the purchase & take care of her, please.

anywaysies…this darling little cottage-y structure has a yard, to make up for the extra closet space i’ll be missing.   i have lofty plans for the bare front walk & back patio, i do!   i’ve been the proverbial pent-up crazy plant lady in our building for nearly 8 years.  this year is the first year i haven’t really taken much care of the patio garden–empty urns & dried up chives–in wishful anticipation of moving, which now, of course, we are.  but the dead plants & empty pots are  super-embarrassing!  i’mma make up for it.  promise.  i’ve been dying for hydrangeas.  big ones.  and bee balm would be cute as a border.  and bleeding hearts in a shaded corner for spring?  my head may explode.   jesus.

going through all of our nearly-ten-years-of-built-up-shit has been quite the experience.  interesting stuff we’ve uncovered so far:

  • a dried-up wishbone from a chicken.  i’m pissed there was only one; i had several in a drawer & found just the one!  i’m not even kidding.   we were going to pin them on the wall.  it was going to be awesome.
  • the level that’s been m.i.a. for over a year
  • about a dozen books on hatha yoga, feng shui, astrology & dream analysis
  • an “empty” henckels knife box in the outside storage closet…meaning that it was likely once positioned by the front door for recycling after unboxing said knives, only to use it as a trash bin, fold it up & forget that i’d put trash in it, thus making it a “good box to use for whenever we move later”, putting it into storage & finding it filled with crumpled plastic wrap & butter wrappers 4 years later…oopsies.
  • an artificial christmas tree in 3 pieces
  • 2 sets of christmas ornaments even though we never put up a tree because i hate them
  • miles & miles of speaker wire
  • 1 mystery ac adapter
  • 10 or 11 crappy paintings i did between the ages of 17 & 22
  • the beastie boys licensed to ill on cassette
  • …as well as like, 200 other cassettes.  sam pared it down to around 50.
  • countless bar receipts from 2007, & then a batch of bank receipts from 2003
  • a picture of me at medieval times on my senior trip…shudder.
  • in an old handbag, i found a pre-sale slip from when i worked in the cookware department at meier & frank…in 2000(!) with some lady’s credit card information on it (oopsies!) & the item that she wanted:  a dansk pottery article of some sort.   service ware i think.   something ugly for sure.  the slip had a piece of chewed gum wadded up in it & a note that said, audra, please call me when this becomes available.   thank you, theresa.  i wonder if theresa ever came back for her item?
  • a mini bottle of pravda vodka
  • rough drafts of my 25th birthday party invitations & most of the rsvps…still scented with chanel!
  • 2 sets of pier 1 dishes stashed away that i’d thought we had gotten rid of like, 5 years ago
  • various broken bits of mystery items (plastic; multiple shapes & sizes) that were going to be fixed at one time
  • a bag of mixed european coins…mostly euros
  • a large mac cosmetics shipper containing a single mac compact that was shipped incorrectly to me…clearly the color was meant for a woman with much darker skin than mine.  i never returned it.  i’ve decided to keep it & use it as a bronzer.
  • some sort of bullet in my ‘special box’.  i suspect that a boy gave it to me as a token of affection to remember him by.  sadly, i don’t remember.
  • a concert ticket from 1998 at the tri-cities fairgrounds:  sugar ray, loudermilk…and much to my surprise spoon(?!).  i totally didn’t have any idea spoon had played that show!  my little buddy britt daniel & i go back way farther than i thought.
  • tons & tons of oil paint, acrylics, watercolors & brushes.   and tons & tons of bad art.

oh my god, you guys…i knew we had a lot of stuff…but this is ridiculous.  it’s bad.  i’m just impressed with ourselves that we could fit it all into 925 square feet!  it feels like grey gardens in there, only on a much smaller scale.  and much, much cleaner, of course.

…speaking of which!  did you see it?  we finally watched the new-ish grey gardens with jessica lange & drew barrymore for the first time.  it was sort of meh…  i think i was hoping for more reenactments of the documentary, rather than a movie-movie.  it was pretty good, but drew ruined it for me.  her portrayal of little edie is almost good, but she wrecks it with her voice & bad accent.  her face got in the way sometimes too.   jessica lange, on the other hand, totally fucking nailed big edie!  really frighteningly accurate performance.  amazing.   we ended up watching it twice, and i think as a whole, i liked it better the first time around.  the second time you tend to notice that it really is made for tv & it’s not so great.

oh my god, what if i planted all grey/silvery plants in a couple portions of the yard?  i could call it grey gardens.  ooh…  wait, is that dumb?  or brilliant?

anyway!  that’s that for now, my sweets.   i can’t promise there won’t be any big gaps from here on out…at least for awhile…your favorite little meat sticks are terribly busy as of late, and are going on a quick vacay next week.  pray to baby jeebus with me that the fucking weather will cool soon so that my thighs won’t stick together anymore, and that we’ll come home from seattle with tons & tons of debaucherous & entertaining stories for you!  you’re excited.


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vadge of honor

posted by:  audra

sigh…oh my god, you guys!  we’ve been so lame.  i think about blogging every day & nothing comes.  nothing!  i knew that bitching about broken shoes & such would get old.  and whilst i can’t think of anything remotely interesting & exciting that’s happened over the last week worth a blog post, i do have some  news, but nothing terribly  interesting & exciting.  …but i do promise you that sam is working on a most epic return, & it may even be a two or three-parter!  get excited!

actually, i take that back.  whilst i don’t have anything pretty, witty or gay to report, there has been some somewhat-exciting things happening.   here’s the first story:

i went to the gynecologist last-last tuesday.  a trip i’ve been dreading for years.   as much as i wanted to postpone it yet another five years, i think one more 14-day, bleeding-like-a-quintuplet-miscarriage-complete-with-excruciating-cramps-period would kill me.

so, i went doctor-shopping.  this was in april.  i picked one out: dr. stella.  she was young, but not too young, probably indian…red dot indian, not feather indian…and i liked her name; it made me think of perfume, beer & the band stellastarr*.   how bad can she be?!

when i went to make the appointment, dr. stella was not available…unless i wanted to wait six months…but i could certainly make an appointment with a mid-wife (dr. susan), if that was alright, but it would still be several weeks before i could get in.  sigh.  okay.  fine.

i looked at this one’s profile & she seemed nice.  husky, older, short hair…like she’d come home to her girlfriend named bo, fixing the roof while dr. susan was busy rooting around in vadges all day long.  dr. susan.  yes.  she would be mine.

when i arrived at the vagina doctor’s place on tuesday, i wasn’t impressed.  children everywhere, fat, unattractive pregnant women in sweatpants with hair like top ramen…god, it was terrible.  there was one “gentleman” wearing carhartt pants and these huge, black work-boots, which were unlaced of course.  his little boy ran, screaming towards me when i checked in at the front desk.  this horrified me, and i glared at the child.  the receptionist thought this was cute, & giggled.  as if every child who lets out a bloodcurdling screech at complete strangers is adorable.

this event is followed by, “oh, i’m sorry…dr. susan called in sick today!  we’ll have you with dr. oldpants, if that’s okay!  we’re transferring all of dr. susan’s patients over to dr. oldpants today!”

i sighed heavily, to let her know this is not okay, but said, “alright.  that’s fine.”  then she turned to her side, mumbling, “oh, there was supposed to be a new patient questionaire to fill out.  hmm.  not sure where it went.  oh well, just have a seat!”

sam & i had a “seat” on the gross chairs in the waiting area, probably teeming with child-bacteria.  and waited.  and waited.  i was told to arrive 20 minutes early in order to fill out the little questionnaire thingy, & so now i’m just wasting my time.  i could have slept an extra 20 minutes or even a half an hour.  don’t they have extra forms someplace?  one would think!

finally, after nearly 25 minutes of waiting, i hear something that resembles my name being called.  a short, thin, asian woman with shoulder length hair scans the room behind one of the partitions.  me, being short as well, is unseen behind said partition, even in heels.  so she keeps looking for me, “audwa?  audwa…?”

her name is trang.

totally really fucking annoyed at this point, i make it into the height/weight portion with trang.  she seems nice.  i notice that one of her eyes is lazy, and the lid is bulging, like a bee-sting.  i thought for a second that she indeed might have been stung by a bee, but later determined that she’s like that all the time.

she takes my blood pressure & pulse.  “oh, you berry nerbous to-day!”

of course i’m nervous.  but i’m mildly excited to meet this new, exotic, substitute doctor.  will she be pretty?  will she have a red dot on her forehead like dr. stella?

as soon as trang is through with asking me how much i drink & smoke, and how often i bleed buckets of blood, everything will be okay & my new doctor will arrive.  i’ll be in & out in minutes.

trang hands me a scratchy cape thing with a terrible pattern on it & says, “ebryting off!  doctor will be in berry soon.”  i thank her, and she exits.  curiously, the first place i start sweating when i nervous is the inner thighs.  it’s gross & it’s a curse.  so now i’m really freaking out.  pretty dr. mystery will completely recoil in disgust at my sweaty thighs & vadge, declaring she can’t possibly go any further unless i take a cold shower.  as soon as i got the little smock-cape thing on, i mopped up any suspicious sweat emanating from my body with the flowing skirt part.

a little rap at the door & someone steps in behind the curtain.  it was a really close call on the sweat-mopping situation.  THAT would have been really embarrassing.  i say a hello, and an odd looking old man in a white jacket appears.  fuck.  a man.

this is the moment i name him dr. oldpants.  a skanky female, probably 22 or 23, followed him in to watch, in case he’s super-friendly with the patients.

while i may have an inappropriate pipe dream about a super-sexy gynecologist giving me a thorough breast exam before burying his head between my thighs, i don’t really want it to happen.  i mean, come on!  especially when this guy comes in & is a total troll.  i may have to switch up my little chimera to be a dentist.  i’m ruined on gynos now.  but wouldn’t it be just as bad if he were super-hot?  i’d rather have an unattractive gynecologist than an attractive one…wouldn’t you?  god, what if lou pucci walked in with his white jacket & skinny jeans & stuck his speculum in my business & saw that i was wet?!  how fucking embarrassing!

anyway, what the fuck do men know about vadges anyway?  they could have all the schooling in the world, but still never really know what it’s like to have one.  you know?

i’m absolutely horrified & pissed.  clearly, had i wanted a male doctor, i would have requested one.  this isn’t really something you can just change, whenever, without proper notification, don’t you think?  right off the bat, i concluded that this guy is a real loser, with no sense of humor.  for example, when he asked me if i bruise easily, i said, “hmm…i don’t know…kind of?  i mean, not really…but i’m always kinda bruised up.  i mean, i am clumsy!”  and then i laughed nervously while he stared at me blankly, almost frowning, & scribbled something onto my chart.  my comment wasn’t funny, nor was it meant to be any sort of punchline, but a normal person would have given a polite smirk, or at least a knowing smile.  jesus!

skanky assistant leaves & trang is once again in the room with me & dr. oldpants, which was a little comforting.

i had juuust  gotten cozied into the stirrups when i blurted out that i was sorry if he’s offended, but i was totally expecting a woman.  of course, both trang & dr. oldpants freeze & stop what they’re doing, apologizing profusely.  trang is really upset by this, i can tell.  “oh my gosh, i so soddy!  i thought they toldoo?!”  i told her that indeed they had mentioned i would be seeing a different doctor…but wasn’t informed that this was a male doctor.  “oh, yoo want to reschedge-ull?”

she felt terrible.  i told them to just continue so i could get it over with.  of course, this whole conversation taking place with spread knees in the air, my special lady bits on public display.  she kept rubbing my shoulder, apologizing under her breath while dr. oldpants was discovering that i have a tipped cervix.  after he told me, “you may have a little spotting after the exam…”, she tucked a pink pantyliner into my hand & winked.  where does she expect me to put that?!, i thought.  didn’t she notice the absence of knickers in my pile of clothes on the chair?

after the examination, i got dressed & met with dr. oldpants in a borrowed office.  dr. stella’s office.   of course.  she wasn’t even there! probably off visiting her cool & pretty sisters in india.

he expressed heavy concern in regards to my obnoxious cunt-problems & asked that i come in for blood work in a week, and then a follow-up with him in a month.  gross.  i wonder if trang will be there?  will she slip me another pink pantyliner? 

the moral of the story, kids, is this:  if you have a super-bloody cunt & things that look like abortions are falling out of your junk, get it checked out!  especially if you’re soaking through a super-plus tampax AND your jeans in less than 20 minutes!  even if the doctor is a total bore, that doesn’t mean he’s a bad doctor!  he might even be good!  do you really want a doctor who monkeys around with you all the time, like sending emails saying, “i’m sorry, but you’re terminally ill with cancer of the uterus.  JK JK JK!!!!  it’s just a yeast infection!  LOL!!”

and there you have it.  take care of your special lady bits.

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