It's been a weird week.

Let's just start this by saying I have a clove of garlic up my vag, because it sounds absurd.

See, Saturday night, in Mark's enthusiastic quest to please me, he stimulated my g-spot with some dirty ass fingers; I have been consistently more itchy since then. Last night I kept awaking in the middle of the night to find myself scratching myself, and it wasn't comfortable, and I am pretty sure I looked unattractive. This is how my vagina is doing. Anyone who pays $20 to the man for some crazy chemicals from Monistat to kill off yeast needs to hear this. This is a public service anouncement: don't buy yeast infection medication. They used to be prescription only, because they are so strong. Consistently using them could lead to your yeast developing a tolerance to the medication, creating a super yeast that cannot be easily killed and may take over the world! You just need a clove of garlic wrapped in gauze, inserted up there like a tampon. Or some plain yogurt squirted up there (somehow). My sister thinks this sounds disgusting, but is fully willing to overpay for some unknown, smelly, goopy chemicals that she'd shoot up there and have dripping out all night/day, while I have a firmly placed organic non-drippy piece of seasoning in me.

I don't think I even smell like garlic bread. It's a win-win situation!

Otherwise, my apartment got broken into, nothing was stolen from me, but my diary was found sitting atop my bed. Roomie's computer and camera were stolen, which really sucks. There was no evidence of a forced entry.....so we're thinking... someone who had a key... hmmmm?

This was the same day that Milly the Millionaire was struck by a car and killed. It's very sad because she is one of the best dogs that ever lived, and her life was gone so fast. I even cried a little bit, and she's not my dog!

Also there is a lot of drama going on in my friends' friendships and relationships, and for once, my relationships are going good (as far as I know). I'm not used to not being the one with shitty things happening all in a row. I mean, I did have a break-in and a yeast infection, but I feel completely normal, just sitting here with garlic wedged between the walls of my vaginal canal, designing mirror plaques. Sarah's coming Friday, and we're all going camping!

periods from hell!!!

Day two of my period and I'm pretty much bleeding out of my ears. Yes, the core of me is that inane; I am going to blog about my period. I could make a book about periods. MAYBE I will.

I'm angry about my period. It ruins my life two days a month. Oddly enough, instead of from the moment I woke up, yesterday's attack of the crampies came as I was leaving work -- just in time for the drive home! And there was an accident in the left lane, so I spent over an hour holding my uterus and making twisted wincing faces at other drivers. Last night I laid in bed, doubled over in pain, watching Engaged and Underaged, unable to do anything besides eat mashed potatoes and a push pop. Actually I got up and put glitter on a picture we're working on, then felt over exerted and went back to bed. I couldn't fall asleep for hours because my lower back hurt too much to lie in any position and the cramps were still there.

I must point out that yesterday I had two Midols, and four Ibuprofens, which reduced cramps and back pain by like 25%. I had a moment of utterly serious contemplation where I fantasized about injecting the morphine HL left behind. Today I am barely able to move my head, dizzy and nauseous from Midol at my desk and the cramps are still working away at me. Top this off with sporadic spouts of diarrhea, and maybe next month I should inseminate myself just to avoid this!

So fuck you, I'm on my period I hate everything and everyone.

my neighbor Britney Spears

Britney Spears was in my dream last night. In some kind of magical way, she just like, lived next door to me. I was walking down the alley, past her back door, and she called out to me "Hey! Do me a favor! I'll pay you!" I very nonchalantly walked into her house, which looked like the house I grew up in, and in the kitchen she asked me to write a letter to someone. She gave me a pen and paper and threw $22 at me. Two tens and two ones. She was all wound up and really bitchy about it and had that same stupid outfit on she's been wearing every day: thick cloth headband, annoying sunglasses, spaghetti strap tank top, short shorts, cowboy boots. I was very calm about it; I was not even thinking that I was in a famous person's house. I was just like, there's my crazy neighbor and her poor kids. But instead of two little boys, her oldest was a 9 year old girl, and I remember thinking, wow, it has been a long time since I looked at the gossip blogs! The girl was very sad that her mother was crazy and never gave her any attention. I said, hey, at least your mom is really rich. Some people have shitty parents and they're poor too! That would suck!

Loserpalooza

FUCK, now it's August.

Lollapalooza is this weekend, and I'm hoping I see some celebrities about town. Perez Hilton is CLEVERLY throwing a Lollapalooza party at the HARD ROCK cafe. That's a really good idea to get everyone pumped up for the weekend festivities, because there is a bartender there with a three foot mohawk. They probably all have tongue piercings too!

The whole time living in Chicago, I have only seen two celebrities, and they barely qualify as celebrities: Dave Navarro and his sad looking band walking down Milwaukee Ave (before I realized it was him, I felt sorry for these douchey clueless looking guys in all their Alley gear and 90s alternative hair cuts strutting around the Double Door like high schoolers from the suburbs...tee hee) and SANTINO, which was much more meaningful. It was right after he unfairly lost Project Runway, and he was stalking* around Marshall Fields with a hat and sunglasses. We followed him for awhile and then he noticed and I was too nervous to talk to him.

*i say stalking, because he looks like a beanstalk, though I was the one stalking.

Anyway, I think it will be really fun to hear what celebrities are in town, and then type up stories about them to make them sound like miserable people, and send them to Perez Hilton.

I'm feeling crappy today. Mark and I got into a dumb fight last night that wasn't really a fight, more like me crying about failing in life and acting like the future is a huge cage I'm slowly stepping into, and Mark feeling like I was talking about him. I wrote him an EMAIL about it today. I hadn't taken that step yet. Am I just exacerbating the situation? Meow meow I'm depressed. He hasn't responded yet. BLah. I had a clever dream about the word "masturbation" but I can't remember it.

I really love jezebel.