Saturday, January 27, 2007


At Least My Vagina Didn't Fall Out

It's been a tough week round about these parts. I've had too much to do, not enough sleep, and I got a notice of rent increase (not big, just big enough to eat all of the small raise I'm getting in April plus about $10).

The brakes on the car are doing something weird (like not braking), it's drinking oil faster than I drink beer, a day that was really important to me and that I had asked for as vacation got turned down and I also received a notice of inspection, meaning that I have to clear up the entire house -- including the insane studio and the obscene guest room -- within the next two weeks while the two other occupants of the house follow me devotedly around, re-messing everything in my wake.

Oh yes, and I think there's another rat in the walls, but at least the ratnoisemaker things are working and he's not coming into the house.

The week I've had, however, pales in comparison to that of a friend of mine who announced to me "Hey! My vagina fell out!" Seems that after a hysterectomy, vaginal prolapse, although not common, can occur. And really, that pretty much tops everything up to and including the rat in the walls. (there are mitigating circumstances that make it even worse but those details belong to my friend to tell, not to me.) Ever since that announcement, another friend and I have been using that as the benchmark by which to measure unfortunate occurrences in our lives, the vagina-falling-out bit being at the "bad" end of the scale.

So yeah, it's been a tough week.

But at least my vagina didn't fall out.

going to check ...

Ha! Mine either, thank goodness, and from now on I'll remember to "count my blessings."
You're right. Nothing like a little perspective to put things right. The dog/yard/barfing incident pales in comparison. Thanks for a day brightener.

Now, next post, you must list searches that follow google or whatever to that title. Promise?
Well, damn the rent raising landlord, and the oil chugging/pissing non-braking car, and the inspector/inspection, and the boss for not making the raise big enough to cover what the rent is to be, the the rat/rats.....but never, ever your friend whose vagina fell out, never.
And me without a winning lottery ticket, which if I had'd find yourself a lucky bunniegirl.

Noisemaker thingie? Are you holding out on us?
I have been toying with a dangling vagina for a couple of years now.

I think it's about time I talked about it.
I meant to say that I've been toying with the idea of writing a dangling vagina story. I saw one when I spent the night at a friend's house in 7th grade. Never quite got over it.
And there I was thinking I had a bad week compared to YOURS. That happened to my MIL years ago, but she was done with it anyway.
Of all the things that could fall out...

And then Marcia's comment made me snort.

And all this time I thought someone was silly for telling you what your word verification letters are, but get this: wiiii
Holy moly. Thanks for putting my paltry little problems in perspective!

furthermore, damn the boss who didn't let you have that special day off....

oh marcia, your first comment sent me right over the edge.

bunniegirl, I don't know which friend you're referring to, that's alright, I'm sending out huge amounts of positive energy and I have no doubt it will find her.
Best blog title EVER.
Yep a VP would be down there on the nasty scale. Above a tumor and below a bad tooth. Hope the repair goes well.
Jeez Louise, chica. That's some bitchin' litany. May the wallrats head over to the boss-assbeagle's house followed by a pitstop in the trunk of the inspector's inspect-mobile. Which he/she will then abandon in your driveway. Which you will then expropriate as your new ride (minus the wallrats). still with me? big hug, chica....
Oh my - I'm so glad Marcia clarified her first statement :)

Your poor, poor friend - I don't think there's too much that could be worse than that!

I would also like to know what google searches get people to this post - should be amusing.
Dude, thanks for this. I needed a new yardstick to measure things by. This totally puts things into persepective. ;-)
OK, here's a thought. Get some bright yellow paper and make up a quarantine notice and staple it to your front door. Make up some kind of plague-sounding disease on the notice, then meet the inspector as he/she/they arrive, in your rubber gloves, surgical mask, surgical cap, and rubber boots. Offer to show they around. Sneeze as you do so.
Thanks so much for this story. I told it to my husband, who I had just picked up from the hospital, where he was transported after being hit and having his beloved truck totalled.

You brought smile to his face.

I'm sorry things have been going so crappily. I hope it gets better soon.
While camping, my mother once made a face and ran off to the porta-potty, where, as she later said, she "just tucked it back in." I've never been the same, really.
You learn something new everyday! I know it's not funny, but I can't stop laughing. I guess I needed that. Otherwise I would cry.
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