10 December 2008
Fucking Princess
Of all the presumptuous, high-handed piles of bullshit. You fucking bitch. I will rip out your crinkly, nasty, wannabe "I Dream of Genie" weave. Slowly. One strand at a time. And then I will feed it to you.
09 December 2008
Relapse
The sickness is descending on me again.
I don't know if it is because my birthday and the holidays are so near, or if it is because I've been so good for so long. Either way, I can feel it creeping up on me, peering over my shoulder, blowing its sweet breath of temptation in my ear. It makes me itch and yearn and long and desire (OK, three of those are approx. the same thing). I don't know how much long I can hold back. I need the smells, the sights. I need to touch and covet and peruse. That's right, the addiction is pulling me under. I need my Barnes and Noble's fix.
Before you go writing the previous paragraph off as artistic license, it's actually a fairly accurate description of how I feel when the book covetousness sweeps over me. I walk into a B&N and can feel the tension fall away from me. I lovingly finger the books. Oh, that's right, I touch them. I open them up to my avidly hungry gaze. I breathe in their scent. Whew. OK, gimme a minute to collect myself.
Since it is almost my birthday and Christmas, I should hold myself in check. All of my friends and family know of my love for books. I KNOW I will get books, or gift cards for Borders/B&N, but I don't know if I can wait. The lust can sometimes be too persuasive. "Come," it says. "Want me, hold me, touch me, love me." It is a siren call I am all but powerless to resist.
I don't know if it is because my birthday and the holidays are so near, or if it is because I've been so good for so long. Either way, I can feel it creeping up on me, peering over my shoulder, blowing its sweet breath of temptation in my ear. It makes me itch and yearn and long and desire (OK, three of those are approx. the same thing). I don't know how much long I can hold back. I need the smells, the sights. I need to touch and covet and peruse. That's right, the addiction is pulling me under. I need my Barnes and Noble's fix.
Before you go writing the previous paragraph off as artistic license, it's actually a fairly accurate description of how I feel when the book covetousness sweeps over me. I walk into a B&N and can feel the tension fall away from me. I lovingly finger the books. Oh, that's right, I touch them. I open them up to my avidly hungry gaze. I breathe in their scent. Whew. OK, gimme a minute to collect myself.
Since it is almost my birthday and Christmas, I should hold myself in check. All of my friends and family know of my love for books. I KNOW I will get books, or gift cards for Borders/B&N, but I don't know if I can wait. The lust can sometimes be too persuasive. "Come," it says. "Want me, hold me, touch me, love me." It is a siren call I am all but powerless to resist.
08 December 2008
Evacuate
Heh, doody.
Pooping is one of those thing that we take for granted until it stops coming out right. Pooping can be mildly inconvenient, especially for those people who prefer not to poop in public places. Pooping can be loud, quiet, smelly, relatively odorless, uncomfortable, and a relief. If we don't poop, we die.
Ever since I returned from WI, my bowels had been...different. I learned many years ago to wait for the perfect poop. I discovered that forcing a poop usually leads to discomfort and a chapped ass. My guts and I had an understanding - they stayed reasonably regular and I didn't abuse them too often. Unfortunately, something changed.
At first I thought it was the large amount of raw veggies I ingested while in WI. However, the problem continued long past the time that I would have processed the vegetables. My diet was pretty much the same as it always was. Oh, I was pooping, but every session was a struggle and I never felt satisfied. I tried increasing my fiber intake, but that's kind of difficult when you don't have much fiber in the house. I ate more veggies, I drank lots of water. Still, I was dissatisfied.
I finally decided to try a laxative. I was gonna blow it all out and start fresh. JR offered to pick up some Epsom salts for me. I was told by B that Epsom works wonders on recalcitrant guts. I was willing to give it a go. Due to a lack of Epsom that didn't contain shea and/or menthol (its primary use is as a soak), JR got me good ole Correctol. It's a woman's laxative, or so it says on the box. Whatever. If it got the poop out I wouldn't care if it were elephant laxative. Also, in her very thoughtful way, JR provided me with some flushable wipes and a book of Kurt Vonnegut pieces. They both came in handy.
I took my first dose around 10 pm Friday night. The instructions said that a bowel movement would probably happen in 6-12 hours. I figured that I'd split the difference and I'd most likely be pooping aound 8 am. JR came over after work and we chilled for a bit. I decided to take another dose. Maybe risky, but I wanted to be cleared out. I wasn't fucking around anymore. I went to bed around 3 am.
I woke at 8 am and it was imperative that I get to the bathroom - rightstatnow. And then, oh my. Warning: I'm going to try not to be TOO gross, but I am talking about poop here people. You may want to skip ahead.
BLOOEY!
SPLOOSH!
AHHHHHH.
Everything I had packed into my bowels over the last month of so came right on out. I don't know if the fact that I was half-asleep was a factor, but I was feeling no pain. Once I was done with the evacuation (there was surprisingly little mess), I went back to bed for a couple of hours.
And woke up at 10am for an encore.
At this point I figured that I may as well get up for good. Sleep interrupted by frantic voiding of one's guts is no sleep at all. I managed to get some stuff done around the house and made sure to stay well hydrated. There were a couple more sessions, but nothing as spectacular as the first two. Thanks to Cottonelle and JR for saving my ass.
After about 5pm or so, I was done. There was still a bit of discomfort down below, but I think that was more about my uterus than about my guts. I went to a friend's house and did not blow up his bathroom. In fact, I didn't poop again until I got home from work today. It was solid and satisfying.
Pooping is one of those thing that we take for granted until it stops coming out right. Pooping can be mildly inconvenient, especially for those people who prefer not to poop in public places. Pooping can be loud, quiet, smelly, relatively odorless, uncomfortable, and a relief. If we don't poop, we die.
Ever since I returned from WI, my bowels had been...different. I learned many years ago to wait for the perfect poop. I discovered that forcing a poop usually leads to discomfort and a chapped ass. My guts and I had an understanding - they stayed reasonably regular and I didn't abuse them too often. Unfortunately, something changed.
At first I thought it was the large amount of raw veggies I ingested while in WI. However, the problem continued long past the time that I would have processed the vegetables. My diet was pretty much the same as it always was. Oh, I was pooping, but every session was a struggle and I never felt satisfied. I tried increasing my fiber intake, but that's kind of difficult when you don't have much fiber in the house. I ate more veggies, I drank lots of water. Still, I was dissatisfied.
I finally decided to try a laxative. I was gonna blow it all out and start fresh. JR offered to pick up some Epsom salts for me. I was told by B that Epsom works wonders on recalcitrant guts. I was willing to give it a go. Due to a lack of Epsom that didn't contain shea and/or menthol (its primary use is as a soak), JR got me good ole Correctol. It's a woman's laxative, or so it says on the box. Whatever. If it got the poop out I wouldn't care if it were elephant laxative. Also, in her very thoughtful way, JR provided me with some flushable wipes and a book of Kurt Vonnegut pieces. They both came in handy.
I took my first dose around 10 pm Friday night. The instructions said that a bowel movement would probably happen in 6-12 hours. I figured that I'd split the difference and I'd most likely be pooping aound 8 am. JR came over after work and we chilled for a bit. I decided to take another dose. Maybe risky, but I wanted to be cleared out. I wasn't fucking around anymore. I went to bed around 3 am.
I woke at 8 am and it was imperative that I get to the bathroom - rightstatnow. And then, oh my. Warning: I'm going to try not to be TOO gross, but I am talking about poop here people. You may want to skip ahead.
BLOOEY!
SPLOOSH!
AHHHHHH.
Everything I had packed into my bowels over the last month of so came right on out. I don't know if the fact that I was half-asleep was a factor, but I was feeling no pain. Once I was done with the evacuation (there was surprisingly little mess), I went back to bed for a couple of hours.
And woke up at 10am for an encore.
At this point I figured that I may as well get up for good. Sleep interrupted by frantic voiding of one's guts is no sleep at all. I managed to get some stuff done around the house and made sure to stay well hydrated. There were a couple more sessions, but nothing as spectacular as the first two. Thanks to Cottonelle and JR for saving my ass.
After about 5pm or so, I was done. There was still a bit of discomfort down below, but I think that was more about my uterus than about my guts. I went to a friend's house and did not blow up his bathroom. In fact, I didn't poop again until I got home from work today. It was solid and satisfying.
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