Tiger Balm

Back by popular demand, more stories about my privates! Yay! I feel like I will just never run out of stories of terrible things happening to them. So here goes:

 

When I was a child I learned to read at a very young age. Like, before kindergarten. My mother homeschooled my older sisters for a year or two. I don’t really remember why. All homeschoolers are either super hippies or weird religious people. And though my father is a super hippie, my mother was just an average person.

 

At any rate, I had nothing to do during the homeschooling. I was too young for school, too young to be left alone, and we were too poor for daycare. So I spent homeschooling also being homeschooled.

 

My sisters are 8 and 10 years older than myself so I have no idea what they were learning. But I learned the alphabet and then how to read and then how to tell time on an analog clock.

 

Which is amazing because I seem to have de-evolved through sheer laziness and now have to actually pay close attention when reading an analog clock.

 

So I went into kindergarten already knowing all the material. Which made for an extremely boring year of school. Plus, I was an insufferable show off and know it all. As a result, I had exactly one friend.

 

But I didn’t need friends. I had books and my little sister, J, to torment.

 

One day J and I were playing in my parents bed. I was in kindergarten so she was about three. And we were snooping through everything, as children do. When we found a little tub of something.

 

Being older and literate, J asked me what it was. The label was covered in all kinds of funny symbols that I did not recognize. And then I saw the words Tiger Balm. Well, I knew what balm was. It was a salve, like lip balm. It went on your lips.

 

This was still a few years before my chapstick addiction, which I still have today. So I handed the tub to J and told her to put some on her lips.

 

I don’t know if you guys know what Tiger Balm is. It is like an Asian version of Icy Hot or BenGay. It smells terrible (that’s because of the menthol). It is also very strong when applied to sensitive areas, like the lips of a three year old child.

 

I remember her screaming and crying in pain and then, as usual, my mother came in and found us. And I was, once again, in serious trouble for doing something mean to J. But I swear, it was an honest mistake.

 

But that isn’t the end of the story. My privates were involved, remember?

 

So earlier this year, I had a little tub of Tiger Balm that I actually never use because I have very sensitive skin and it is just too strong for me. But I also didn’t want to get rid of it because nothing I do makes any sense.

 

I keep my Diva Cup on the same shelf of my medicine cabinet as the Tiger Balm. When I got my period, I pulled the cup out of it’s adorable little bag, washed it, and then inserted it.

 

It took a few minutes for me to feel anything. But then it started feeling…weird in my vagina. Like not good weird. Bad weird. Although I suppose there is rarely any good weird if it is taking place inside your vagina.

 

And then it started tingling, again, bad tingling. It started burning. I pulled the cup out and smelled it. Yes, it was just in my vagina. I don’t care. I know what my vagina smells like. But I could distinctly smell the Tiger Balm.

 

I remembered the story with J and felt a moment of pity for her. That shit must be really bad on your lips. Because it was really bad on my vagina. Hopefully, she will feel a bit of justice with this story.

 

I limped around in pain for about 30 minutes and cursed myself for being an idiot. No amount of washing helped and I didn’t want to upset anything happening down there (vaginas have their own flora and fauna going on). And after my period was over, I put my cup back in it’s little bag and back in the cabinet.


Now, I’m not a total idiot, I had thrown away the Tiger Balm and washed the shelf where it had been.But I am at least a partial idiot because I didn’t wash the bag. And the following month, when I got my period again? You guessed it. I put the cup in and my vagina started feeling all weird again. And not the good kind of weird.

Food Mountain

I guess I am not going to get back to talking about my trip to Tucson. Maybe because some dark and terrible thing happened there that I cannot speak of. Or more likely because I just don’t feel like it for some reason. Feel free to make up whatever stories about my trip that you want. And if you wanted to send those stories to me, that would be pretty cool too.

 

I decided that I wanted to tell you about the first time I drank in public. It was at a work function, which is always the best time to test your alcohol tolerance. And I had not really done too much drinking before then.

 

We were staying overnight at a hotel and the teambuilding of the night before was like 40 fucking rounds of putt putt golf. I am not even exaggerating on that one. Plus it was hot as balls outside so I was already miserable. And I hate golf.

 

One of my co-workers, R, is a bit of a party guy and he disappeared before the event even started and came back with a hurricane. When he left and came back with his second one I decided that I wanted to taste it. To my surprise it did not taste like hairspray (margaritas), paint thinner (any hard liquor), or bitter wheat vomit (beer) like all the other alcohol I had tried.

I even got a fancy glass to take home that I still drink out of

 

So I ordered a hurricane for myself. I drank about half of it before I felt much of anything. By then I was two holes in the putt putt game and was teamed with 3 people I did not know at all. They were boring the hell out of me and talking about work bull shit.

 

When that hurricane hit me, I realized I was fucking starving. I hadn’t eaten anything in 7 hours, and then it had only been a salad. I stopped one of the people that worked there and asked “Isn’t there food somewhere around here?”

 

She pointed vaguely to the other side of the mini golf course. “You have to play through to get to the food.”

 

I set down my putter and golf ball and replied “No thanks, I’m hungry now. And as an adult, I’ll eat when I want to.” And I set off across the putting course. I have zero patience for being told what to do, and I was really very hungry.

 

I managed to walk through about 6 or 7 other groups that actually cared about finishing the game. But I didn’t care. All I wanted was food. I was on a quest. A quest to food mountain.

 

After about 10 minutes I found some weird fish taco station. And I was pissed! I hate fish. I wanted real food. I asked the woman  that was manning the station, “Is this the only food?”

 

She laughed and pointed again, even farther away from where we were. “I think there are burgers over there somewhere.”

 

By this point, the alcohol was hitting me HARD. I felt really silly and relaxed and warm. I ran into my boss. He tried to talk to me but I stopped him. “Sorry, I’m busy trying to find some mythical burgers.” I didn’t even wait for his response. I was on a mission.

 

But the burgers were nowhere to be found. None of the other teams had seen them. Nobody seemed to know anything about them. I was wandering around this huge putting course, lost and semi drunk asking people about hamburgers. Luckily, everyone knows I am weird as fuck and I don’t think anyone really thought much of my behavior.

 

And then, I saw them…. It was food mountain! The legends were true!

 

They were up on a platform under a heating lamp. The red light was like a beacon in the night, drawing me in like a moth. I raced up the steps with excitement. I could already taste that sweet burger meat.

 

I was alone. Alone with a mountain of mini burgers and a pan of french fries. This was my own little private heaven. I made two triple burgers and filled a tray with fries.

Basically

 

 

And then, for some reason, I decided I needed to find R. So I wandered back through everyone trying to play through the course and fended off their vulturous attempts to eat my food. I was doing fake karate chops and telling people how to get to food mountain themselves.

 

It didn’t take long to find R. I’m not sure how many drinks he’d had by that point, but he was very loud.  I finished my food and then had a brilliant idea.

 

The week before R and I had gotten into an argument about my flexibility. He didn’t believe I could touch my toes to my forehead and it was not something I was willing to do at work. But at a work function, after half a hurricane, I was more than willing.

 

So I sat down and said, “Give me a minute, I don’t normally do this with pants on.” And proceeded to show him that I could totally touch my toes to my forehead. (I do yoga and it really isn’t that hard). R laughed and took a pic and admitted that I was right and he was wrong.

This

 

And then I went to find my original group. But I was so turned around I decided to go back to the beginning and follow the course through till I found them.

 

Unfortunately, there was an ice cream station at the beginning of the course. And there was no way I wasn’t stopping at that thing. I decided it was too hot for ice cream so instead I talked the guy manning the station into giving me a mouthful of hot fudge and then an ice cream bowl full of mini m&m’s and sprinkles. It was amazingly delicious.

Candy mountain!

 

 

I never found my group and so just waited there at the end of the course, eating candy and sprinkles until my co-workers made it through. By the time they arrived R had shown everyone the picture of my flexibility stunt.


But they were mostly too drunk to remember. A bunch of other fun things happened that night but I feel like this story is long enough.

Shooting

I know I promised you guys more Tucson stories. And I do have more. But I don’t feel like talking about that today for some reason. Instead I am going to tell you about an exciting adventure I had back in February.

 

Many of you know (or should know) Vic from JustPlainOlVic. He is one of my best bros in real life. He also reads every blog post I write because he is awesome and cool and supportive like that.

 

So he KNOWS what is up with me. It is rare for my real life people to read my blog. And yet, for some strange reason, he decided he was going to take me shooting.

 

Yes, me. The person that dropped a steak knife off a balcony. The person that cut my thumb off in a car door. The person that swallowed a piece of glass. And tried to pull my brace off with pliers. Vic was going to hand ME a loaded weapon and then stand next to me.

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Readers, if you don’t read his blog, you need to start. He is apparently one of the bravest men I have ever met. I don’t even trust me with a loaded weapon. I get nervous when I am using a knife. And I believe I have mentioned how irresponsible and obnoxious I get with toy guns.

 

I was freaking out for weeks leading up to the event. What if I dropped it and shot myself in the foot? What if I forgot it was a real gun and shot Vic? What if something in my brain snapped and I went on a murder spree? (It could happen, you don’t know).

 

The day of he showed up at my door and went over gun safety with me. He was all business and guns in my apartment. I was trying to be serious, because I know gun safety is serious. But I have a hard time being appropriate.

 

Vic is a serious gun owner and he taught me everything I know about gun safety. And whatever I don’t know is my fault, not his.

 

And then we went to the shooting range!

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Where I learned all about gun safety again.

 

And then it was time. He showed me how to set up and fire the two guns he brought for me. He showed me how to reload a clip. And then, there was nothing else I could do to stall him any more.

 

We set up a target 25 feet away. It was a man shaped target which I felt a bit weird about. I would much rather shoot something cool like Godzilla or a velociraptor. Which is what I pretended to do the whole time. I even wore my Jurassic Park shirt to get myself in the right mood.

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Vic had brought me a hand gun and a pistol. Both of which shot .22 caliper. Because I am ambidextrous, I was not sure which hand would be better to shoot with. So I tried both.

 

I found that both were equally comfortable and that I much preferred the digital sight on the rifle. I was so proud of myself that I took the target home and am going to frame it.

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I think it will go nicely in my bathroom. Maybe make some people think twice about messing with me. While they are using my toilet.

 

And I didn’t even shoot anyone. Or drop a hot shell down my top.

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Afterwards, I took Vic out for steaks as a thank you. All we were missing were the cigars and glasses of scotch. We were the manliest of men on that day.


Hopefully, I didn’t behave too badly and he will take me again soon because he has a shotgun I have my eye on shooting next (hint hint).

Trip to Tucson part 1

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E and I (with her permission).

You guys might be wondering where I have been this past week. And if you remember, I was on vacation in Arizona. See, my friend, E, won an award and got to go on an all expense paid week long trip to Tucson.

 

I have never been out west and when she invited me to go as her plus one I was actually just staring at my phone in shock. I wanted to respond in a way that didn’t make her instantly regret inviting me but my brain was short circuiting with excitement and all I could really think was “askjaksadjask.”

 

I played it pretty cool though and hopefully managed to be appreciative. Which I was and am. Because my trip was fucking amazing!

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It’s going to take me a few posts to talk about all the things we did and saw so I will just start here with day one when we got to Tucson.

 

I am a well known vomiter in the circles of people that know me in real life. I get every kind of motion sickness possible, plus I puke when I have a bad migraine.

 

I read once that the average person vomits 1 to 5 times per year. But if that is the case then I am vomiting for a lot of you out there. Because I vomit more than that in an average month. In February of this year alone I vomited about 20 times.

 

This is important to my story because despite all the planes, buses, shuttles, and bumpy jeep rides I did not puke the entire trip!

 

As soon as we landed in Tucson I started freaking out about the scenery and plant life. It was so different from Florida. There was ZERO humidity and the mountains and cacti were everywhere. The sky was so open and blue. Like nothing I had ever seen before.

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The hotel was set low into a mountain overlooking the city. E and I stayed out every night looking at the stars with our new friend, J. None of us had ever seen so many stars before. It was awe inspiring.

 

E and I had run into J at the airport and the three of us really hit it off right away. We seemed to be the only single people on the trip and spent most of the rest of the time hanging out together.

 

To be honest, I had no opinion of J until that first night. We were all given fleeces for our trip. Men got black and women got sky blue. Mine was too tight for me and I preferred black anyway.

 

I got with the coordinators and asked if I could trade mine out. The coordinator asked what size I needed and I wasn’t sure. So I asked J if I could try his jacket on. He pulled it up over his head and his t-shirt completely stuck to it from static. He flashed everyone at our table his stomach and chest.

 

Not wanting to stare or make too much fun, I looked away, respectfully. He seemed embarrassed (who wouldn’t be?) and I didn’t know him that well. I took the jacket, unzipped it, and went to put it on. That was when J said, “The zipper goes all the way down?!”

 

I stared at him for a moment and realized that was why he had pulled it up over his head. He hadn’t known it had a zipper! I completely lost it. I laughed so hard I had to put my head down because I was crying.

 

I am sure he was mortified and I do feel a tiny bit bad for laughing so hard. But it was just so fucking funny. Besides, it was a good ice breaker and it reminded me so much of something I would do. I really started to like him after that.
And I obviously brought it up every chance I could for the remainder of the trip because that is what true friends do.

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All photos taken by E.

Sisterhood

Apparently, I got nominated for an award. Because that happens literally every time I leave for a while. So thank you to Ann of Ann St. Vincent fame for nominating me for The Sisterhood of the World Award. I love being a part of a (good) family, and though I have a lot of sisters, five of them actually, but I can always use more since I am only currently speaking to one of them.

Image result for sister of the world award

I guess I have to answer some questions and some of them are about sex. Sorry to everyone that knows me in real life…

 

  1. What is your favorite sexual position?

 

I am not trying to cop out here. But this completely depends on my partner’s size and shape. And I don’t just mean their penis (though it is mostly their penis size). A chubby person will be better with certain positions that a thin person. Anybody that has had a painful bony pelvis grinding into theirs or had their cervix repeatedly stabbed by a huge dick knows what I am saying.

 

  1. If you and your 10 year old self met and had a talk what would she say to you?

 

I think she’d be proud of me for making a safe space for myself and finding the strength to deal with everything I have been through and coming out happy on the other side. Also, she’d probably super impressed with my actually cute glasses, semi flattering hair, and huge boobs. None of which I ever thought I would manage to achieve. Go me!

 

  1. What is the first bit of writing you did outside of school/homework?

 

I always had diaries and notebooks full of secret stories and ideas from a very young age. My siblings and I also used to make all kinds of mean little illustrated books about each other. I am trying to find one for a blog post.

 

  1. What is your favorite song now?

 

This is too hard. Like trying to pick a favorite food. And it depends on my mood. I like Bruises by Chairlift. Band of Horses reminds me so much of going to Mt Rainier with my sister that I can barely listen to them because it makes me so melancholy, but I do all the time anyway. I love Wicked Way by Ben Taylor. Sight of the Sun by Fun. I have a lot of favorites. I also recently found two great things to masturbate to if you need some lady jams. Any Spanish guitar music and Jessica by The Allman Brothers.

 

  1. If you could tell the world just one thing what would it be?

 

One thing is a lot of pressure. But I guess this: nobody is judging you as harshly as you judge yourself. And if they are then they can fuck right off and get the hell out of your life. Seriously.

 

  1. Which period of history had the best clothing?

 

I still have my fingers crossed for the future. I’m thinking like, light up high top jet shoes, silver jumpsuits, goggles. Maybe men and women wearing each others clothes more often and without any ridicule or judgement.  But if you are making me go with the past then I choose a time when we all went naked. That was probably pretty cool.

 

  1. What makes you suddenly and disproportionately cross?

 

I mostly get cross about things worth getting cross over. But it really bothers me when people don’t mix their beverage with their food properly. I try to keep it to myself and do a pretty good job of not freaking out on someone. But I hate in old movies when people are eating meatloaf and mashed potatoes for dinner with milk. Or my dad’s girlfriend one time ordered a tuna sandwich with a coffee. That shit does NOT go together!!

 

  1. How good are you at keeping secrets?

 

Pretty good? I am really bad at knowing what is supposed to be a secret, though. You people need to tell me when things are secrets.

 

  1. Do you have a pet?

 

No. I tried to adopt a cat. It was a long haired Maine Coon and I loved her. But I guess I am allergic and I had to give her to my brother. Now I just go and stare at the animals in PetSmart like some sort of lonely, affection starved freak.

 

  1. If you could invent anything what would it be?

 

Hmmm. I really want to invent something cool. But I would invent an empathy machine. Though I think Douglas Adams had one in Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. But damn, that needs to exist. Does that even count since I just realized it wasn’t my idea? Oh well. How about my light up high top jet shoes mentioned above?

 

And now I’m supposed to nominate some people which I just hate doing so much. It’s so much pressure. Here’s who I nominate. Feel free to not participate.

 

I nominated people that I wish I had as sisters but will happily have as friends.

 

  1. Debbie from MoreThanSweetPotatoes
  2. Leah from TransplantedtotheSouth
  3. Aussa from Hacker.Hooker.Ninja.Spy.
  4. Jana from StopMeIfIToldYouThis
  5. Sharn from Spankalicious
  6. Samara from ABuickintheLandofLexus
  7. Gunmetal Geisha

And thanks again to Ann who I would have totally nominated had she not nominated me.

Hello World

I am back! And possibly, but likely not, better than ever. I finished my book a whole day early (a Herculean effort considering my past month). And now I am going to bore you with the details! You’re all so very lucky.

 

I chose March because I think November is a bad month what with all the vacations and family oriented holidays to distract me. Well, just the one holiday, I guess. And I don’t even spend it with my family. But you guys know what I mean.

 

It turns out March was a horrible month to pick. The world seemed against me writing this novel. The VERY first fucking day of March, my father decided he HAD to bring me a book shelf I had bought from an estate sale 3 months previously. Go figure. I’d only asked him to bring it to me a dozen times.

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Yes, that is a giant Bette Davis oil painting I rescued from being thrown in the trash. And the bookshelf.

 

The following weekend was his birthday, and despite my efforts to get out of it, I got guilted into going. And I am glad I did. Because I found out his age, which is 69. The most hilarious age. And his 70+ year old girlfriend made some incest jokes to her grandchildren. Plus I got to hang out with her daughter, S, who I simply adore. She has a great name that I cannot share. But let’s just say it would be like naming someone something like Windy Meadow.

 

Then my boss went on vacation and left me in charge despite me begging him not to. My job got so frustrating while he was away I got the closest I have ever been to quitting a job without actually quitting. And I am pretty big on quitting. Life is too short to be unhappy.

 

At some point I fell more than 10,000 words behind. It’s hard to come back from that. But I did. And with a day to spare. Want to know my secret? Manic obsessive writing for hours at a time. Overly descriptive language. And no contractions.

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Yes, V, I DID take a pic of my computer screen with my phone and then emailed it to myself. I knew you’d appreciate that.

 

In complete desperation, I found a third movie I could watch while writing. The original Star Wars series. I have to admit, I need a break from Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings after 31 days. I also attempted many many other films but most of them were not a good fit for my writing.

 

Maybe some of you are wondering how my novel turned out. Well, not great. But decent. I actually immediately deleted the last one I wrote for NaNoWriMo because I knew it wasn’t salvageable. But this one is going to be worth editing and fixing.

 

I had the idea for the plot in a dream. The dream was actually some weird thing about Pangea. But when I woke up I knew, in the way you do with dreams, that it had actually been about revenge and deicide.

 

I went through stages with the novel. I loved the plot. But after about two weeks I started to hate it. Then I started hating it less. Then I thought it might actually be decent. Then I apparently really missed being “funny” (like I clearly am on this blog)  and threw in some comedy that may or may not make the final cut. And now I think, it has good bones and is an interesting story. So there you go.

 

Also, I crafted very, very little during the past 31 days. Like, the least I ever have in my entire life. I finished the novel  late Monday evening and immediately grabbed up my crochet hook like a junkie missing a fix. I finished crocheting  a rug yesterday. I missed crafting.

 

And I am so glad to be back. I had plenty of other fun experiences to tell you guys about during the last month and I am going to Arizona on vacation next week. But most importantly, I realized how much my little WordPress community means to me. You guys are awesome. Thanks for being there for me.