My Sister Is Back In The Country...
I knew this week was going to be bad, I didn't realise it was going to be THIS bad.
But then, perhaps Dad is right. Perhaps she's improved while she's been away.
Perhaps she's had a personality transplant and is returning as a pleasant person to be around. Hope springs eternal, right?
Friday night, shindig for my brothers 21st. Should be great fun.
So last year I did the right thing and went to have one of those nasty Pap Smears that one hears about ladies having.
Nasty, embarassing. Apparently my inside bits are as twisted and upside down as the rest of my life, so finding the bit to smear is difficult. But thats fine, because its only every two years right?
Wrong.
That little test came back abnormal, so I had to go back again this year and again have my lady parts examined and smeared.
And again, this years test was abnormal.
So apparently what happens when you are abnormal two years running is that they send you off to a gynacologist, who is just the next step up the vaginal examinatory team ladder.
I trundled off to my appointment (which took me a month and a half to get by the by) with a fist full of cash ($240) and when I was called in was relieved to see the lovely little doctor lady.
She was in a pretty skirt, and we had a lovely chat during which she gathered my details. I perused the office. Nice desk. Nice floral arrangement. Nice examination table - no sign of any stirrups. All good.
"Ok," she said "Just come into the exam room and we'll have a look at you"
The fucking what room? What other room??
She opens a door to reveal a torture chamber complete with scary looking trolley loaded with undercarriage inspection equipment, and a chair complete with freaking stirrups.
"Just head behind the curtain there and take your bottom half off"
Now my Dad always told me that if you played with your belly button your bum would fall off... but I figured she wanted me to remove my jeans and undergarmature rather than fiddle with my belly button. So I did.
She loaded me in to the chair of pain, and I found myself be-stirruped and in a position which made me pretty sure that expiration from sheer mortification was imminent.
Firstly she did some more smearing, because shit, why not.
Then she "had a look around" which made me feel like I should be pointing out the facilities and touting the benefits of the neighbourhood and making sure that she didn't steal any of my stuff.
She found some obvious abnormal bits while she was looking around, so she decided to take a biopsy - this is where the real fun began.
Apparently a biopsy of the cerviacle area involves just slicing off a section of cervix without the assistance of any sort of anasthetic or numbing cream of any kind.
"Good Golly Gosh that smarts!" is probably preferable to what I actually yelled at the nice little woman stabbing at my vagina.
She then cauterised the wound - a nice way of saying that she burned my insides to stop them from gushing bloods everywheres - again without the inconvenience of anasthetic.
Based on this experience, I have decided to open my own clinic.
I will rig up some stirrups - I can get some chicken wire and baling twine and spray paint them silver.
Equipment required is only the long sharp silver letter opener currently on my desk.
I totally have the skills to stab unsuspecting women in the vagina and charge them excessively for the priveledge.
Sass's Gyno Clinic! Book Now!!
In reality, my poor undercarriage is a little tender, and worse - est of all is that there will be no jiggy jig for me for at least a week. Sorry CK!
Go Here and Play This:
Or Try This:
http://www.catchmentdetox.net.au/play-game/
Both of them are educational - don't mock me because I like to waste my time learning stuff.
So I'm doing this course at the moment, apparently its a Diploma in Business Management.
I used to have a bit of respect for people who went off and did a course like that - I mean, its not a Degree, but its better than a Cert IV. Usually, takes two to three years to do. Its intensive. Its worthwhile. It means you have a sound knowledge of the principles of Business Managment.
But this one, this alleged course, is only 10 DAYS LONG.
10 days, spread over a year usually - in my case I'm doing it in 6 months, as I am part of a group who has been "fasttracked".
The assessments are easy, the days themselves are actually only 10am - 3pm, 4pm at an utter stretch. Getting to Melbourne and back takes longer than that. I spend four hours to get there actually, and another four to get home, so its three hours longer in travel time than it is in learning time. Geez.
I am really cross about it actually. I'm paying a bit of money to do it - I mean, its only $2k, but still. I just don't feel that its good value if I'm not learning anything!
It will look good on the CV, and in my case I guess I have 5 years actually MANAGING every aspect of a small business, so at least I have knowledge gained through experience... but there are people in my class who really don't have any experience. They don't get the most basic level of information being given out at these classes, and they clearly are not across some of the aspects that we are covering. Specifically, financial managment.
I wonder if I should be complaining that the course isn't good enough, or should I shut up, take the qualification and run?
Today I feel utterly satisfied with everything in my life.
I awoke this morning in the warm and incredibly sexy arms of Ellvis... wrapped up in a hug that makes me feel cared for and protected and strong and somehow free all at the same time. He kissed the back of my neck and without saying a word, he...
well...
if it were a film, the camera would have panned upwards and focussed on the artworks above my bed and some beautiful romantic music would have been playing, something sweet and gentle, yet powerful and with a strong throbbing baseline so that you knew what was going on...
then it would have panned back down to me wrapped up in his arms again, and he in mine, legs tangled, both looking flushed and happy and satisfied.
And then there was some talking, soft and quiet, some laughter - tickles and kisses and sweet delicious nothings, then I am utterly delighted to report that the camera would have panned back on up there again, to that place on the wall, and the musical score would have a lengthy reprise.
The only thing better than incredibly great sex in the morning is a double serve of incredibly great sex in the morning.
Eventually we got up (it wasn't late, he's an early riser LOL), and we went together to the kitchen to have breakfast. He made the drinks while I made toast, and we sat together and ate, talking over this and that.
We sat together there for a time, discussing life and love, oddly enough. I enjoy that we can sit and speak of feelings and actions and kindnesses and needs and likes and desires and aspirations, and share a level of intimacy that is warm and enveloping, but it doesn't feel suffocating or unsafe.
We sat outside in the sunshine for a while, before he headed home, and I headed inside to have a shower and get ready for another hectic holiday day of sitting around reading delightful novels and eating chocolate and dressing in attire completely inappropriate for the office.
He went out late this afternoon for a shoot with some of my girlfriends husbands, and on his way home he stopped by to say hello and have a cuddle on the couch. He's so sweet.
There is no point to this entry. I'm just happy I guess, wanted to write it down :)
