Mah va-jay-jay is painin’

Had one of those invasive doctor’s appointments that it hurts to talk about, let alone how much it hurts to breathe afterward. Oprah girlfriend said it best — my va-jay-jay is truly painin’!

I realize I have given about 20 urine samples in the past month. I hate how, every time the need to poke or prod you or stick things in every orifice, they need to be certain that you’re not knocked up. Seriously. As if. But they won’t take your word for it or even ask.

Considering, though, that I haven’t even so much as shoved wriggly, battery-powered plastic up there in awhile, I admit that it doesn’t bother me to have someone rooting around down there, even if it involves needles and such. And hoo boy, it might have been a quick procedure but damn, my cooch has felt WAY better in its day.

The good news out of this adventure is that we finally have a diagnosis, and things are a whole lot less serious than they originally seemed. I have a prescription and a follow-up appointment in three months. Read: NO SURGERY. *whew*

One couple in the waiting room had the cutest baby boy. And he was flirty. I don’t know what it is with me and baby boys, but the wee one and I were goofing around for a good 20 minutes. The baby’s daddy was hawwtttt, so it’s not surprising he made a cute kid. I just wish daddy were flirting instead of baby!

Speaking of flirting, there’s a cute guy watching me right now. I just hope he isn’t catching my probably not-so-subtle grimaces every time I get one of these twinging-twat pains that are a residual effect of today’s snatch attack. (They say I’ll be back to normal by tomorrow.)

Anyway, I’m sipping butternut-squash soup from the Corner Bakery and slobbering drinking my beloved hazelnut coffee. I am trying not to go home, but genius just dribbled coffee on her off-white sweater. But luckily, those feminine-wipe thingies? Are fabulous at getting stains out of fabric. (I’ve also done that in reverse — used a Shout wipe on my hoo-ha. You DO shout, all right!)

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