Go Betty

I Dunno Why But It's Making Me Cry

Yup, tears are streaming down my face... tears of joy that is. Some lunchtime random internet funniness is cracking my shizz up, yet again. Uh-huh haters, this is one of those posts that just points out a funny celeb link... The Jump the Shark comments section on The Facts of Life. Sweet Zombie Jesus some of this is very funny. I don't even know how I landed here. I think I needed to know if cousin Geri was really severely and suddenly gay. I read that somewhere way back and it was all like, whoa, was that real or just jokesters who were posing as Geri. That, and I read Lisa Whelchel's Born-Again-Christian-lifestyle-and-home-schooling-mom-themed blog too.

The Harshest Email I Ever Wrote

Here for your reading pleasure... cleaning up some old stuff from earlier this year. The thing that I regret here is that I used some information against him - information that he confided in me.

"This marks the 3rd time I have deleted your contact info. I was being nice on Friday at work. But upon second thought, I find you exasperating.

You seem to have some sort of panic attack every time there's a whiff of I'm in your vicinity, and if I mention that fact, and then you act very weird. All you have to say is, "Sorry, I'm busy" , or "No thanks, not a good time", instead of some strange-ass explanation that:

a) makes no sense although it inevitably ends with the words "makes sense?", and
b) only belies the commitment-phobe side of your personality to the point where you shine a spotlight on your anxiety.

And you know damn well I don't want anything that has anything to do with a commitment. How many times do I have to say, it's only coffee...I can't even be your occasional friend because it's too much work and I don't understand the rules.

The reason women eventually cut off themselves from you is because you're too tough to figure out any kind of relationship with. I don't know if anyone's done you the favour of telling you that. I guess eventually you'll wise up or be friendless.

Going forward I intend to be with people who are real. You're simply too difficult. I wish I wasn't cutting bait here. I wish I could try harder. Typically I'm a tremendously loyal person. I love a challenge but this is crazy.I'd like to know what happened to my regular friend? Doing this over email is ridiculous.

Actually scratch that. I can't care or wonder anymore. Add me to your growing list of 'And we never spoke again'."

My Affairs Will Be In Order

I sent this message to my lawyer this a.m. based on a comment my friend made to me last week.

**

Hi John, I think the last time you and me spoke I mentioned that I wanted a new will (leaving everything to my estate, naming you as executor)… I wonder how that’s going? I am going on a strange experimental camping trip in the northern Nevada desert in late August, which will be all about installation art, temporary community and extremism… when I was describing this to a lawyer friend she said (without cracking a smile) that I should “get my affairs in order” before I go. I am sure that I will come to no harm but I will be incommunicado for the whole week as there is no cell reception where I am going. I know this sounds really weird but it should be fine as I am a seasoned camper and there will be 35,000 people sharing the experience with me (although I am embarking on this trip alone, initially).

Anyway, let me know how that’s going when you have a chance.

For your information, I will be away

August 27 – Sept 4 2007
Burning Man
http://burningman.com

I am flying from Toronto to San Francisco, renting a car and driving about 6 hours due north east (through Reno NV) towards Empire and Gerlach Nevada. I will have my cell with me anyway.

I think either Nick will be at my house looking after my dog, or my friend Sarah, or they will share the duties. I will also share this information with Patricia. In my absence Peter will have Patricia, yourself and Nick as contacts in an emergency.

Thanks and hope you’re having a great summer!

MB

Too Bad We Couldn't Tie It

Last night at hockey... I was sick yesterday but went out last night to play. I knew that it would be tough team but little did I know how hard I would have to defend.

I almost barfed after the first period. I skated over to the bench feebly crying out "Inhaler!", and "Water!". I didn't do much better in the second period as I was too busy focussing on not blacking out. I finally did get my breathing working in the 3rd period and had, in the words of everyone who was there, crazy saves - butterflies, glove saves, tips up and over the top bar, flying-through-the-air saves... oftentimes though I was just flying in a desparate attempt to block the puck, and then because I was too tired and lazy to do anything else, simply falling down. I fell at least once on my face and once on my ass. Must have looked fascinating from the bench.

We lost 1-0.

Brazilian Wax Virgin

Steve Carell ain't got nothin' on me. WTF, your CHEST HAIR? No big shizz. The inside of my labia...? That takes some balls.

Yesterday I walked into a salon in my building and booked a bikini wax. Note, I did say bikini wax. Because I was wearing boy shorts yesterday (it was sort of windy and I was wearing a mini skirt) I assumed that the esthetician would give me the little paper / string bikini thingy to wear in lieu of. Not so much. That is what I normally get: quite a bit off the sides, some off the top (i.e., for bikini bottoms and lowrider panties), with the normal landing strip down the centre, and I keep that part under control with scissors. Easy!

My regular lady wasn't there. I instead had the other esthetician Maria. Maria is older than me. Maria might be old enough to be a grandma. She is not an old lady but she's probably been around the block. OK, I think, this woman is gonna wax me. It's always tenuous, someone new more or less seeing most of your lady-business (did I say "most"? Keep reading) . And that someone is not a health care professional. And your first thought is, hmmm, this person looks at vajayjays in all their hairy / hairless configurations all day long. Was this their actual career dream? Or something they sort of fell into?

So we get into the little room where I say, "Maria, I'm wearing boy shorts today, do you have the little paper thing I can wear?" and she says, "Just take it all off," and I'm like, "All of it?" and she says "All of it." So I take everything off from the waist down and hang my gear on the door hook, which promptly breaks and sends my clothes and purse crashing to the floor. I'm all up on the table ready for war, wondering what to do, there's no where else to put my stuff except the floor, but about one second later Maria comes back in and just steps over my stuff. I apologize and she tells me not to worry, that she just glued the hook on, she should have warned me.

The room was silent but then she increased the volume of the plinky plonky spa music to a higher than normal level. It was distractingly loud.

So I'm looking at the ceiling tiles and sort of thinking, this is new: me lying here with all my junk hanging out in the breeze. And she's looking at my lady business giving it little brushes with her hands (presumably to see how the hair grows) and she pulls at the skin a little. Actually she pulls at the skin A LOT. She tsks me for shaving, saying it probably made my hair grow back really coarse (I was only trying to save money and time but to be honest, shaving bush and me simply do not agree. I get way too much redness and ingrowns. It does NOT look hot. That's why I let it grow a little and ended up back at the salon for my first wax in months).

Maria positioned my legs. Now, in my previous experiences, you bend one leg and put the sole of one foot at the knee of the other leg (which is straight) - your legs are in a "4" position. So you spread the business a little. Yesterday Maria positioned my legs for me. Both my knees were bent to the extreme, the soles of my feet firmly together (my knees creating a wide diamond position). Everything was spread as wide as possible. AS WIDE AS POSSIBLE. I was in a full stretch, the kind that you really only achieve and feel when you are 1) killing it in goal or 2) being fucked really hard in missionary position as the bottom. So, yeah. This doesn't even happen at the doctor's office. This theme of "more than at the doctor's office" will be repeated often.

Then the wax. Oh, the wax. You know, I don't mind a little heat in the fun zone, a little cold, whatever. I've been waxed many times over the years. Generally the wax is warm, pleasant. This wax, my friends, was more than warm. It was hot. Not hot enough to burn though. There was some magical limit to its heat. It was at the very threshold of discomfort. I did think, oh man, will it burn me? But it did not. Do I have a high pain threshold? Do I like a little pain? Perhaps, perhaps. But then she started to spread the wax. And spread and apply and thin the wax. NOT ONLY AT THE SIDES. She was holding back the labia! I now write with exclamation marks because people, she's inside my labia majora (as an aside, not everybody has hair there. I do... others do not. I am not particularly hairy in general, but I do have it there. Some other ladies have less or none there, but then again they may have it halfway down to their knees as well. You get the point. We're all different, special, unique, and God's special children! Particularly how and where our body hair grows)!

And not just the lips! Back, back evermore backwards, oh god, what is going on, I think. How much real estate is back there Maria before you hit that most special of holes... the ass? And... she stopped. Phew! It did not get that far. Let me say this. I could not look down. I could not watch her. I do not know when or how she applied the little pieces of fabric (or even if she did??? She must have). I could not bear to inspect waxiness of the inner wall of my labia majora. I felt Maria engage in lots of patting of the region, positioning, and then there was waiting while the almost too-hot wax cooled. And I fought the urge to laugh nervously. I had not the desire to say anything. And like a brave girl I continued to inspect the ceiling tiles.

THEN... The tearing! The ripping! THEN I made faces as she engaged the lowest point of me first. It was not the worst but was certainly not fun. As Maria moved up towards my abdomen I made grunts. I thought, she should give me something to bite down on, FOR REALS. And farther along I cried out "OW!" and "MOTHER OF GOD!", followed by hysterical laughter at the top of my lungs. Maria said "Keep breathing, keep breathing," and all the while I laughed and yelled and laughed and yelled. It was only then that we started talking as she worked over all the skin around my vagina. I realized that she, this person I have never met before, has seen all the parts of me where very few have ever ventured with their hands and faces. THEY DON'T GET IN SO CLOSE AT THE DOCTOR'S OFFICE. At the doc your feet are up in the oven mitts (guys, the stirrups where your heels go are always covered, ridiculously, with oven mitts). The doc doesn't inspect your lips, hair, all while pulling the skin to and fro. The doc doesn't chide you for shaving. The doc lubes up his / her fingers and gets that speculum in you as fast as possible and looks INSIDE, and not ALL AROUND the mound of venus.

Just when it was the worst she did my lower stomach. Relief! Heaven! Sweet lower abs. How I love you for not being labia. And my right side was done. Then she moved the table away from the wall, stepped in and did my left side which for some unknown reason was way, way more sensitive and painful than my right side. Sweet Jesus did it hurt. But at this point we were also talking and sharing laughs too. I said "Do the older ladies get this?" and she said, "Oh yes, everybody, " and I'm like, "Even grandmothers?" and she's like, "Everybody."

PEOPLE! YOUR MOMS ARE GETTING BRAZILIANS AND YOUR GRANDMOMS TOO! For every mother there is a lady like Maria who rips out the hair down there. For every grandmother too.

And then the most unnerving moment of all: "I want to clean up behind."

HUH????

"Bend your knees to your chest like this..." and then as with the previous impossible stretches, I found her making me bending my knees clear in to my chest and holding them there with my hands. Ass was tilted about 90 degrees up and forward. ASSHOLE IN CLEAR VIEW OF WORLD.

I braced myself for the hot, hot wax to hit my ass. As before it was just at the point of being too hot. And then the inspecting and pat down. The application of fabric (I assume). I bore down for the impending rip... But it was not bad at all. People, your perianal hair ain't like your labia hair. Shout it from the rooftops! Getting your asshole waxed is no big deal (from the waxee's point of view at least)! Huzzah!

And then... done. Maria was outta there like a shot. I stood up. My legs were all a-tremble from the impossible stretching. My hoo-haa was red and swollen. And perfect. I looked amazing. BEST WAX EVER.

Picked up clothes from the floor. Got dressed. Knees still a little shaky. Went to the front desk. Paid for a Brazilian ($55 as opposed to $20 for a bikini). Tipped Maria $20 for all my pussy behaviour. Went home feeling like a porn star.

Hurt

...But I remember everything

What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away In the end

And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here

A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way

That's What He Said

Part of a recent email Nick sent to a mate in Australia, which pretty much sums everything up, and I mean, everything:

**

About a month after I moved out, my best friend took me out for dinner. He had gone through the same thing [ed. - separation] four years ago, and his advice has been priceless. He related to me about how when he first moved out he kept yearning for his ex's company and asked me if I was going through the same thing. My honest answer was / is no I'm not, which came as a shock and epiphany to me. I was devastated by the collapse of my marriage, and I miss everything that I've lost from it, but I realized that I wasn't missing MB per se, but the lifestyle that I had built with her, i.e. the marriage itself. Upon a little further honest reflection, I realized that I really hadn't been in love with MB for three or so years, so the decision she made and I adhered to was the correct one: our time had come and gone. [ed. - ouch. This was painful to me and yet it's totally true. The truth of it doesn't hurt... The 'doesn't love me' stuff is the hurt-y part. But it hurts a lot less now than it used to].

This realization has set me free [ed. YEA!], and it has allowed me to develop a new relationship with MB. One of the nice things is that we're both still super close and spend time or speak with one another each week (she makes me laugh more than anyone else). And once I had my epiphany, I was ready to talk to her about her social and love life from the basis of a friend. It's worked out well, since she likes the fact that she has somebody to talk to about all this stuff who knows her so well, and I can do the same. The other news with MB is that she's bisexual, which surprisingly doesn't surprise me at all...in fact it's kind of ordinary, like I kind of saw it coming.

Regardless, she met this woman who despite her telling me and herself that she's going to take it slow and this is just a fun relationship, things have gotten pretty serious. A couple of weeks ago at a bar we went to for Lee's birthday, MB brought her new girlfriend out with her. I know she was nervous to do so, and asked me a couple of times if I was ok with it. I said yes, and to be honest, I was bracing myself not to be ok with it at all; that it was going to be just one more emotional dagger in my heart. But it wasn't like that at all. I was again surprised by how not an issue it was for me, and never once had a problem with it. That felt really good. Mind you it helped immensely that MB's girlfriend, who's name is Sarah, was incredibly cool (I genuinely like her), and went above and beyond the call of duty by smoking me up with a fantastic vintage of herb... which as everybody knows makes me your new best friend.

And in my little world, I've been thinking that I'm in no rush to meet, hump or date anyone. In the past part of my problem has been to validate myself by my relationships with others; that I wasn't happy or complete unless I was with someone. Several weeks ago, I came to the conclusion that it doesn't have to be that way, and that now was my chance to figure out how to be happy and fulfilled on my own. What that's translated into is my taking a step back and catching my breath.

**

So, everyone, keep breathing.