Today marks the end of an era. I came to this land back in 2002 to complete my collegiate career and declare independence from my parents. Two successful missions completed. I’ve been living on my own in the Seattle area since I graduated in 2006. I now embark upon my country-ish mission. w00t!
Don’t worry though! All those who have yet to visit Seattle still have a free place to stay with a lovely hostess and cook, just 30 miles outside the city limits. She’ll even take you down into the BIG city and show ya ’round!
As of 9:49 this lovely, cool Sunday morning, all I have left in my little one-bedroom apartment is the following:
With one fell swoop, urr, one large U-HAUL, I’ll load dat ish up and be on me way!
If you can’t handle the truth, you best be leavin’. Shit’s gonna get real.
Circa 2005, a friend of mine told me about a new feminine product: the Diva Cup. I was curious, did a bunch of research but decided, I was chicken. Three weeks ago, Sister told me about this same feminine product. For quite some time I’ve thought about how much I hate tampons and their leaky tendencies, and don’t even get me started on those think nasties called pads. I know tampons are not the greatest with the expense, all the bleach, risk of TSS, and if you’re a tree huger, all that damned paper. It just so happened, within a couple days of Sister telling me about the product, I came across it at REI. I decided to give it a try.
FYI: shit’s getting real.
The first few days were…interesting. Well, let’s be honest: the first day was crazy. First, I had trouble getting it in. SHIT. Am I that small? I’m SCREWED. I mean…not like screwed because it’s obvi I haven’t been if I am too effing SMALL. However, I managed to get it in. The whole process took me back to the scrawny 14 year old girl who tried to use a tampon for the first time. *Right before the 1 mile run in Jr. High gym class.* Genius. The damn thing stuck out half way. I’m sure I ran like a duck and, immediately after “running,” waddled back to the locker room and swore up and down that was the last time I’d use tampons. I didn’t try them again until college. Feminine FAIL. All those soccer games. All those practices. FML.
Okay, so back to last week. After I figured out how to use the damn thing, I got nervous—like real nervous. When you shove a new gadget up your hoo-ha, you don’t just insert and forget. You panic. Big, silent thoughts of, “OMG. It’s stuck! OMG. I can’t get it out. OMG. OMG.” Sweat and tears. I was deeply concerned it scooched up too far, nuzzling it’s way into the realm of Emergency Room removal. Also, it would have behooved me to read more than the “in” and “out” directions. I didn’t realize I could leave it in for up to 12 hours! Lord, was that annoying. Every three hours I took it out, cleaned it, then struggled to get it back in. Diva Cup claims to be cleaner and not as messy as ANY of the other products out there. Well, not when you’re taking it out every three hours.
Once I realized I really could insert, forget and get it out no matter, I relaxed. SWEET BLISS. Just think, wake up and put it in. Run, jump, do the splits all day long. Then, take it out and clean it before bed. Repeat.
Conclusion?
The Diva Cup is only ~$40 with tax (recommended replacing it once a year). A box of 84 Pearl Tampax (because nobody likes hard cardboard down there) runs about $18. Let’s say you’re super regular and on a 7 day cycle. Give or take a few, that’s roughly 4 tampons per day, for 7 days per month, equaling 336 per year. That’s about $72 / year, not including tax or all those boxes of tampons you buy because you forgot one when you were out, or needed some for a road trip or didn’t have any at all and succumbed to the conveniently high priced 7-11 down the street. Basically, you’re saving a good amount of cash money. Prolly $40-$50 bucks per year, plus gas to the store, blah blah blah, save the trees.
SO, if, twice a day, you can handle shoving your phalanges up your hoo-ha and aren’t afraid of a little mess during that time, I totally recommend it. WAY less odor. You don’t feel it. No pieces of it breaking off and causing major health issues. No diaper. Leave it in for TWELVE HOURS. That’s like, soo long. AND there is absolutely no leakage.
BLAM.
Miss me? I’m sure.
Some of you may know, I am gearing up to move (yes, again). To the best of my ability, I intend to make this my last move before any major life changes [enter husband]. No, I do not want to move again because moving sucks balls. However, while I enjoy the convenience of crawling back from the bars, I do not enjoy the thousands of people who live in each of these city blocks. Blah blah blah. You’ve all heard it. I’ve ranted and raved about the city and how much I dislike it. So, I’m moving on. Quite literally.
I gave notice to my landlord two days ago. My grand scheme is as follows:
I am doing my best to keep my ish together. Trying.
Inside? It looks like this:
OOOOHMYEFFINGGOSHHHHHH8*#@)!@(#7531129*(&*(&^!@#(*LQJKJH(*@Q*&@!^#&%R!@*E(W*D!!!!!!!!!!!
I’ve been preppin’ the platter: tanning, waxing and soon, a hair cut! There is nothing like a tan ass and a smooth punket! What?! What?!
My last few weeks have been a lil crazy. I’ve been working hard wrapping up my current projects so that I could spend the next two weeks worry free. From this Tuesday to the next I will be on the shores of Meheeco drinking margaritas. Once I am back, I will be working on my business: redesigning my website, coming up with a marketing strategy, figuring out how I will hire an employee, etc. I don’t really know what I am doing but am exciting to give it a whirl!
So, today marks vacay, day 1.
I feel like I never get introduced to new music. However, a friend of mine invited me to a show he is hosting with these peeps and I really like them!
Brian Chartrand
The Sweet Remains (a Brian Chartrand band)
And Loni Rose. Wrong Way Back is a good one