Nyotaimori

frankly my dears it seems vaguely depressing to be on this thing on a friday night when you’re young. wouldn’t it be more fun to be out somewhere still doing something? perhaps with someone to someone by someone? and kristen thinks my self image isn’t affected. piffle.

take your damn bowling pictures.

p.s. hella fun. and kati v–we are totally going mini golfing.

sometimes i marvel at the things i write about on this here blog. sometimes i’m shocked at how honest i can be to an internet full of strangers and also even to my own friends. i’m 24 years old and a couple days ago, for the first time in my menstruating life, i wore a tampon.

the whole day my entire body was concentrated on my vaginal passage. the whole day i was concerned that it was either falling out or the string was going to get sucked inside. i was convinced that it was going to cause toxic shock syndrome as the outside of the box promised it might. i had no idea what toxic shock would feel like but decided it might involve the cramping angryness of my pelvic muscles that wanted to push push push that cotton ball right out.

of course when i finally did take it out i came to the swift realization that nothing other than severe tugging of the safety line would dislodge it and that the inner shelf was just not big enough for it to pass through in comfort and ease. which i suppose really is the whole point.

how does the moronic adage that beauty is pain apply here? how can something so uncomfortable which didn’t make me feel even slightly more beautiful really be considered an indispensable item to the women of today? fuck it for a lark anyway, give me an anal dildo a la ‘carrie’s story’ any day. seriously though, i’m curious what THAT feels like now. it can’t possibly be good.

less than cody cute.

there were hardly enough pictures of baseball from tuesday that came out to put up on eloise. but i decided that the one of jacob and dianna on the climbing jungle gym thing made it all worth while.

i managed to get the pictures of the delta up even with the issues of the power being out at ward st hampering my connection to eloise. i am still amazed at how well these pictures came out with such a shitty disposable camera. no pictures of baseball yet as it took fucking forever to scan all these and then i went to bed. but soon. soooooon….baseball…..baseball next week again on tuesday peeps? same time same place? new bats possibly for outfielding new rules? i’m all over that shit.

small. ridiculously cute girl with blond braids: why do you have mexican writing on your leg?

me: (stunned silence)….uhhh…what?

her: why do you have mexican writing on your leg?

me: i……don’t.

erica off on the sidelines: michele! fer god’s sake. tell her what language it is.

me: but did you hear what she SAID?

erica: (making shooing motions.)

me: it’s actually in chinese.

little girl: i went to a chinese restaurant.

michele: oh yeah? what’s your favorite kind of chinese food?

her: i like the beef.

me: beef is good.

her: and the broccili.

me: (stunned silence)…really? i don’t much like vegetables. best to avoid them.

her: (small and confused pursed lips) my brother likes the same.

me: well all right then.

at this point i think she finally noticed my desperate need to escape before i said something else wrong and she wandered off. it’s funny because i never know what to say to small people. i hate treating them like children even though they are. but you always get in trouble for treating them nonchalantly. except for how in my experience working in summer school programs they fucking love you and swarm you every goddamn day if you treat them with sarcasm and irony and backhanded joint giggling. of course that could have been due to the popsicles i was always giving them.