Trying not to pee myself and vagina lips

Every time I leave for a run, I feel like I have to pee. Even though I usually go before I run. The feeling usually appears in the middle of my run and I just ignore it. Today, it rained like a motherfucker just when I got home. It was a monsoon. After about an hour of straight downpour, it cleared up. I put on my sneakers and took off.

About 5 minutes into it, I had to pee. I wasn’t about to turn around and go home, so I kept going. I was only running about 3 miles today, so I knew could hold it.

Um, yeah.

At the end of my run, I go up this huge hill. It’s a pretty sharp incline. As I start going up the hill, the pee pee feeling is getting stronger. It’s getting more and more difficult to hold it.

The hill is steep. I feel like it’s taking me forever to climb it. The bouncing isn’t helping. I get up the hill and start running a bit faster. I have 3 blocks to run until I’m home. I’m saying, “Don’t pee don’t pee don’t pee don’t pee” to myself as I’m running. Finally, my bladder has had enough and I have to sprint or piss myself again.

Yeah, I pee my pants all of the time.

I get home and run up the stairs with lightening speed. Or like someone who has to pee really bad.

I’m pulling my pants down as I run in the door and collapse on the toilet in relief. Thankfully, I remembered to lift the toilet lid before I let loose.

The peeing was so good I let out a moan.

***

I spent half of my lunch outside today sitting on a bench reading. A woman sat down next to me and pulled out her phone. So, she’s talking quietly in the phone. I’m not really paying attention to her, until I hear this….”I think I have deformed vagina lips.”

Um what?

She then explains that her vagina lips are really long and flare out.

How the fuck can I keep a straight face?

I kept reading as she goes deeper and deeper into detail about her vagina lips.

Who the hell was she talking to?

I looked around for candid cameras or something like that. I really couldn’t believe that someone could talk at length about her vagina lips. But, apparently this was a very important thing for her.

I look up to my right and I see another woman listening to the large-lipped woman. That’s when I lost it. I got up and ran back to work.

So, you know what I did right?

As soon as I got home, I had to take a look at my vagina. Just to make sure that my lips weren’t long and flared out.

It’s all good.

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Some answers, my being a domestic goddess, random bits, and a typical Debbie conversation

Well, I wasn’t going to leave the comments open on that previous post but I’m glad I did. Not only are you all angels, but it’s unbelievable that so many of us have been victimized like that. The emails I got were amazingly powerful and heartbreaking.

Thank you all for your words of support and for your kindness. They mean more than I can say.

I got a lot of emails asking me how I can be so comfortable with sex and sexuality after being raped. I feel compelled to answer those questions by giving you a little more of my story.

After it all happened, I went through a few years of being an asshole. Yup, a serious asshole. I left that school after my sophomore year and started going to a community college part-time. I went to work full-time. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. I was in a dark place.

My friend, D, finally convinced me to go to therapy and I did. I went 3 times a week and slowly came to terms with things. My therapist suggested that I start volunteering at a local rape crisis clinic and I did. Through the stories of those women I started to heal and to realize that I wasn’t alone. But, I needed more answers.

I finally went back to college full-time, a Behavioral Sciences major. My first semester, I took a class in sex crimes. My professor, who would later become my advisor and friend, was an ex-profiler for the FBI and counselled sex offenders. I told him my story and said that I needed to find out all I could about the men who do this. And I did. I wrote two independent studies on the subject, one on sexually predators and one on the corrections of sex offenders. I was invited to several conferences and meetings held by renowned experts in the field. Know thy enemy.

I came to several conclusions eventually. One was that what happened to me wasn’t my fault. Two was that what happened to me had nothing to do with me. I think that even if I had known he liked me and I reciprocated, he would have eventually been violent. It’s in his nature. He’s a type 2 rapist. Narcissist. The third thing was that I can’t change the past, but I am responsible for what happens to me now. And the fourth was that what he did to me had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with control and humiliation.

So, I started learning about sex and sexuality. Turns out that I loved the subject and was fascinated by all of the ways people practice love making. Besides, every time I hold myself back he wins. So, I can’t let him win.

I have to enjoy life. I can’t dwell or let past experiences ruin all of the potentially wonderful things in my life.

And that is the story.

***

This weekend I was a cooking and baking fool. Saturday night I made this and a chocolate cheesecake. Yesterday I made this and this and a maple cake with a pecan icing and homemade bagels. Yes, you heard me right. Homemade bagels. Plain and cinnamon raisin. They turned out great. Fuck yeah, I rock.

***

• I keep putting off joining the gym because I know the weather is going to get good again and then I’ll never be at the gym anyway. In the meantime, my clothes are getting tight. It’s killing me. I hate dieting, but I might have to for a little bit until I get outside and work out. I also can’t wait to get outside because I feel like shit.
• With the weather being so cold and me being single, my leg hair is out of control. Mostly because I’ve been to lazy to shave them. Yeah, I’m just a hairy legged woman. Don’t worry, I always keep the crotch and pits in order….but my legs were nasty. I shaved them last night and now I just keep rubbing my legs because they’re so smooth. There is no point to this, I’m just rambling.
• My sister is definitely having the baby tomorrow. Stay tuned for that.
• I’m rereading all of the Harry Potter books to get ready for the 7th book. I know I’m a dork and that’s okay. Make fun of me. Those books are super awesome and now I’ve been tuning in to the Podcasts.
• I think I’m addicted to Podcasts. I love them.
• I went grocery shopping the other day and I forgot graham crackers for the chocolate cheesecake crust, so I was driving by an Aldi and I stopped. I know what I’m about to say is super snobby, but that is the most depressing grocery store I’ve ever been in. Really. I’d cry.
• I still have my Christmas lights up. Yeah, I know I’m a loser. It’s just too fucking cold to take them down. They’re frozen to my stairs. At least I don’t turn them on. That would be bad.

***

My guys Tim and Rich came over the other night to have some drinks with me. Rich is a republican. A gay republican. A gay black republican. Yeah. Here is a sample of our conversation from the other night after we’d each had a few drinks.

Me: “I don’t date republicans. It’s a rule I have.”
Rich: “How do you know if he’s a republican.”
Me: “I ask.”
Rich: “That’s kind of rude.”
Me: “No. It’s not rude. It’s crucial information.”
Rich: “Why?”
Me: “It’s crucial because I don’t have sex with republicans. If, by their opinion, I’m not intelligent enough or responsible enough to make my own decisions about my body then I don’t think any republican should reap the benefits of my body.”
Rich: “Isn’t your dad a republican?”
Me: “Yes, but I don’t fuck my dad.”
Rich: “That’s nice, Debbie. You know, I’m a republican.”
Me: “Yes, that’s weird. You’re like the African tribesman who sold his people to whitey or the Jewish police who turned in their own people to the Nazi’s.”

crickets chirping,,,,,dumb stares…..lots of blinking

Tim: “Oh Debbie.”
Rich: “I just think that the conservative line is closer to my beliefs and how I worship God.”
Me: “But doesn’t God hate the gays? That’s what I’ve been hearing lately.”
Tim (holding his hands to his head): “You’re a mess.”
Me: “Stay out of it Timmyboy. Listen Rich, don’t you think your picking your politics because of your religious faith is retarded? What about common sense? I know that’s a difficult concept to grasp in this day and age, but how can you support a party who wants to destroy your people.”
Rich: “Which people? My blacks or my gays?”
Me: “Does it matter? Pick one.”
Rich: “I think that in the end God will make it right. If I don’t have my faith I don’t have anything. It’s the way of Christ. I can believe that even if I’m gay.”
Me: “You know I’m not Christian, my dear.”
Rich: “What’s the supposed to mean?”
Me: “I don’t follow the Christian way.”
Rich: “You don’t believe that Jesus is our lord and savior.”
Me: “Um, no. I don’t. And Christianity didn’t come until many many centuries after Jesus died. It could have been anyone, but they chose to write the myths about him. It’s history and mythology. I don’t believe mortals can be gods anyhow. If you can shit, you ain’t it.”
Rich: “You’re retarded sometimes, you know that? You don’t think gods can shit?”
Me: “Maybe thunder is caused by the gods farting.”
Rich: “No more drinks for you. Well, all I know is that I follow what the bible says.”
Me: “Which interpretation? Most of those stories were stolen from the Jews anyhow.”
Rich: “Oh, I don’t think we’ll ever agree when it comes to this subject.”
Me: “I think if I had to pick one, I’d be a Jew. They are the chosen people and I always wanted to belong to a tribe.”
Tim: “I seriously wonder how your brain works Debbie. You amaze me sometimes by your wackiness. It’s one of the reasons why I love you.”
Rich: “I love you too. You’re fucking nuts.”
Me: “I think I’m going to form my own tribe. Invite only. You guys wanna join? We’ll be super cool. We can get matching sweatshirts.”
Rich: “Can they be purple?”
Me: “You are so gay.”

I love these guys. I miss them. They are going back to NYC on Monday. I want to go with them. They are an awesome couple. I asked them to adopt me. They’re thinking about it. Oh, and Tim is a bleeding liberal. They have a rule to never talk about politics inside their home.

We have all gotten into heated arguments about the hot topics of today and I think it says something that at the end of it all, we respect each voice of dissent. We keep each other sharp. Plus, Rich makes a mean mango margarita.

And that’s a wrap.

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Grrrrrrr, I’m fierce UPDATED!!!!

HAAAAAAAAAAA! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAAAA! HAHAHA!

Who’s a silly nilly?

Me. I’m in a goofy mood. I felt like I hadn’t laughed in ages. And then the dam broke…I got the giggles.

First off, here are some pictures of my birthday prizes.


My mom and stepdad got me the Tori Amos box set I’ve been wanting.


Something I’ve been wanting to read.


This has many recipes for my foxy mixer. I’ll be a baking fool.


The now infamous “I lost one” earrings.


A book I’ve been wanting to read for a long time.


Earrings from my gay boyfriend, Tim.

I want to thank those of you who sent me gifts. You have no idea how much I appreciate these treasures. You all are too generous. To the people who sent me cards, thank you so much. They meant so much. I love you all.

Now onto other things…..

I’m kind of pissed off at my sister. Let me rephrase that, I’m livid with my sister. Her retarded doctor told her that she could go home on Friday for a week if she promised to do nothing but lay in bed. Instead of being smart and opting to stay in the hospital, she’s going home. To her asshole annoying demanding husband, her 7 year old stepson, her 80 pound dog…..I swear she always has the need to be a hero. I don’t believe that she will stay in bed. She has no sense. She won’t listen to my mother. My sister is behaving like an asshole.

I had the following conversation with the little girl, Ashley, I read to every Wednesday:

Ashley: “What’s wrong with your eyes?”
Me: “I don’t know. What’s wrong with them?”
Ashley: “They’re yellow.”
Me: “Oh, well that’s my eye color. It’s called hazel and sometimes my eyes are green and sometimes my eyes are gold.”
Ashley: “They look like evil eyes. The devil has those eyes.”
Me: “Well, I’m not the devil or evil.”
Ashley: “Are you sure? They are really yellow.”
Me: “Do you like me, Ashley?”
Ashley: “Yes, you’re nice.”
Me: “Would an evil person be nice?”
Ashley: “No, I don’t think so.”
Me: “Shall we read now?”

First time in my life someone has said my eyes looked evil. I know I have weird colored eyes. I know that I wear dark eye makeup that sets the color off. I know that depending on my mood they can look very light, almost clear….so I suppose a 7 year old my think they look evil.

What do you all think? Evil?

My eye looks red and irritated in that picture. I suppose an extreme closeup with a bad camera can do that to a gorgeous eye like mine.

In others news, I have to bite it and join a gym. I like exercising outdoors and since the weather has turned colder and it’s still getting dark early…..I’m finding it difficult to go outside. And I’ve tried to do some of the workouts on Fit TV, but I hate them. So, I have to get to the gym. Because I’m not getting younger and I need to save it before it goes to shit. I like to eat too much to diet.

Want to hear a story from the last time I was at the gym? Okay, I’ll tell you. I was running on the treadmill and there was a guy running next me. He had those short runner’s shorts on. Anyhow, I’m jogging along when I hear him fart. LOUD. And then he yells, “Oh no” and hurries off of the treadmill towards the men’s locker rooms leaving a trail of watery poo behind him. I swear on all that I love that this is the truth. I halted the treadmill and after getting over my disgust, the giggles started and well….didn’t stop. I had to sit down on the treadmill because my stomach hurt. The woman who worked the desk made the guy clean up his own shit, which made me laugh even harder. I, then, had to run to the bathroom because I was laughing so hard I almost peed myself. Luckily, I made it.

Maybe the gym will be fun. Lots of potential stories and hijinks.

What else can I talk about? Let’s stay with the poo theme, if there is one, and talk about how I chased Stella Marie around my apartment the other night with a pair of scissors and a baby wipe because she had a big turd hanging from her tail. She wouldn’t stay still and kept fighting me when I tried to cut it out. I ended up pinning her down and holding the end of the poo with the baby wipe and, with ninja speed, cut the poo out. It wasn’t easy and I got some poo on my hands, but I got the poo off of her tail. Yay me!

More? You want more? Oh, I’ll give you more. Ready. Here I go.

Sike.

I’ve got nothing.

Oh wait. Hang on.

I forgot to tell you all something. I saw the Pilot out on a date. Yeah. That wasn’t supposed to hurt. Aren’t emotions weird? I don’t want him, but I didn’t want to see him with someone else. Especially when I don’t have anybody. It made me sad and pissy.

I need to get laid, ya think?

Okay, I’m really finished now. See y’all later.

THURSDAY MORNING UPDATE: Guess what? I’ve having a rough morning. My panties keep falling down. I just now had to stick my hand down my pants and pull them up. I don’t recall have this kind of problem with these panties before, but this is annoying. Oh, do you want to know what my outfit is today? Okay. I’m wearing an ill-fitting heavy black sweater with two shirts under it, baggy pants, and a pair of jeweled slippers that I keep under my desk. Wanna see the slippers? Here they are.


Are they in style? No. Are they pretty? Nope. Do they match my outfit? Not a chance. Do I give a shit? No way. They’re comfortable.

Alright, that’s enough from me. Back to work I go. Fuck yeah!

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Two angels and a motherfucking monkey

I don’t have much to say right now. The Pilot has been gone since Monday. Who knows where he is? He emailed me tonight saying that he would be back in a couple of weeks. This is what drove me crazy the last time. But I still say that something is very different this time around. I certainly didn’t get emails from him while he was away before.

I’ve uncovered some interesting things about someone this week. I can’t say anything yet because I’m not ready to tell the whole story, but believe me when I say that you all will be the first ones to know when I’m ready. I will say that it’s one big motherfucking monkey off my back. I’ve had two lovely angels to help me with that.

My sister was diagnosed with complete placenta previa. It’s quite serious and she could lose the baby or bleed to death. She’s on strict bed rest. My mother, who is recovering from surgery, is quite worried about her. It’s just amazing how much you realize how much you love someone when you realize they are in danger. If something happens to my sister I don’t know what I’d do. I can’t think about it.

I have two huge Halloween parties to go to this weekend. I’m being a medieval witch. I have to pincurl my hair and my makeup is going to quite extensive. Don’t worry, there will be pictures and some great stories. I’m sure of it.

I’ll leave you all with something kind of funny.

My cubicle neighbor, Lisa, told me that she used to clean her daughters eyes out with her tongue. I thought I didn’t hear her right. She explained that she got the idea from a woman in India who would clean people’s eyes out with her tongue for money. Lisa said, “If you got an apple peel in your eye, she would lick it out.” Okay, who gets an apple peel stuck in their eye. The whole idea just grosses me out to no end. Ew, right?

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Actual Conversations–UPDATES!

Lunchtime chatter.

A 20 minute conversation about the Smurfs. JW says that Gargamel had a girlfriend, but I don’t believe him. L knows more about the Smurfs than a grown female should. I didn’t remember Hefty Smurf or Scaredy Smurf. We all want to know where Baby Smurf came from. JW thinks that Papa Smurf snuck in on Smurfette one night and then he puts his finger to his lips and goes, “Shhhh, it’s all right Smurfette. Papa’s here.” like that’s what Papa Smurf would say to woo Smurfette. I hurt myself laughing.

Then I confessed that my favorite show growing up was none other than the classic, Fraggle Rock. We then went through all of the characters and suddenly I broke out with the song, “Please water run” which nobody recognized but I know was on the episode when they didn’t have water because the Gorgs messed up the well called Let the Water Run.

And finally, I bought Dark Chocolate Chunk and Almond Cookies at Trader Joe’s today and I can’t stop eating them. So, the following conversation took place:

Me: Someone help me. I can’t stop eating the cookies. Take them away.
L: I’ll help you.
Me: Help eat my cookies? Cause I could stick my face in there.
JW: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

It took me a minute to figure out what was so funny. And then I started laughing (with a mouth full of cookies, cause I’m still eating them).

This is my 200th post, by the way. Yippee!

UPDATE:


This picture is for Sage, who wanted to see the empty Nutella jar with my spoon in it. Here it is because I couldn’t throw it away without scraping the last bits out of it.


And this picture is for Liz. See sweetie. I’m okay. I got a bigger jar this time. All is right with the world now.

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Snoop Debbie Dogg is at the door with pretty piggies–PIGGY PIC UPDATE!

I don’t have much too say tonight. I got a pedicure earlier and I think I fell in love with the guy who was doing me as he gave me the best calf massage I’ve ever had, but when it was over and I was sitting under the blue light waiting for the piggies to dry I realized it wasn’t true love. True love lasts forever (or until after you get to Vegas and have sobered up) and I was over him the minute he told me I had to get out of the massage chair. I could have sat there all night. At least the piggies look pretty.

I had the following conversation with my new cubicle neighbor:

JW: Does anyone need a babywipe before I put them away?
Me: What? A babywipe? What the hell are you carrying them around for?
JW: Well Debbie, you never know when you’ll have to drop deuce outside.
Me: Drop deuce? You mean have a poo.
JW: What are you 10? Have a poo? Yes, dropping deuce is another saying for take a shit.
Me: Wait a minute, when the hell are you pooing outside?
JW: I meant outside my house, not outside outside.
Me: That’s good, because for a minute there I thought that maybe you were the guy I saw shitting in the alley a couple weeks ago.
JW: You know it would be very freeing to just shit wherever you want outside. It would be sort of like saying ‘Fuck you’ to the world.
Me: Dogs shit wherever they want. Do you want to be a dog?
JW: Dogs can lick their own balls. (and then he smiles)

All day long I’ve had the following in my head: G’s up, ho’s down, while you motherfucker’s bounce to this. And at some point I started saying Snoop Debbie Dog and immediately starting giggling. I am aware that I’m the only one I’m cracking up. It’s okay, as long as I continue to amuse myself.

Earlier this evening I thought my cell phone was ringing, but wasn’t sure because it’s only rang twice since I got it (oh, you can tell I’m loved huh? actually, only a few people have the number.**insert diabolical laughter**). So, I get my phone out of my purse and look at it perplexed. Then I realized that the music I was hearing was from the speakers in the store I was in. I seriously wonder how I get myself to work in one piece sometimes.

I’m pretty sure you all don’t care, but I got my period today and I’d like to know what I did to deserve this kind of torture. Maybe that’s why I’ve been so dense the past couple of days. My head hurts, my lower back is swollen and sore, my body is tired, my cramps are so bad that there are times I’ll go mad from the pain, and I’m sleepy.

I’m taking the day off tomorrow (people, I have lots of days to use up so I don’t want to hear any shit). I’m calling in ‘I’ll be sick if I have to work in this gorgeous weather’. It’s supposed to be GORGEOUS and I will be swinging on a hammock outside, reading the 6th Harry Potter, and sipping homemade iced tea. I will nap, snuggling deep in my covers and pillows, and dream of happy things. You are welcome to join me, but you have to promise to bring me ice cream.

Smooches my loveys.

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