Warning: You may want to skip this blog if you are uncomfortable with a lot of female anatomy verbiage (specifically a word that rhymes with China).
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As most of you know, I fostered a four week old puppy several months ago and my plan was to adopt her out when she reached two months of age. During that time I took Jovie everywhere with me- she was so tiny that she fit in a doggie purse and could easily be smuggled into stores and restaurants. Then one day I took her with me to Jared and while I was talking with a salesman a woman came over and asked if she could hold Jovie. I said yes and instead of standing there with the salesman and me, the lady just walked off. People were coming from all over the store to stand around her and pet Jovie and I couldn’t see my baby foster puppy. I started to kind of hyperventilate. Was Jovie ok? Were people petting her gently? Nicely? She and I hadn’t been separated since I’d gotten her. It was all I could do not to rush across the room and swat the cooing bystanders away from her.
And that’s when I knew.
Jovie was meant to be mine.
Of course by then I was totally screwed because I hadn’t bothered to train Jovie in terms of being alone. She didn’t know how to be away from humans without crying. Which was bad because we’d already received a letter from our HOA informing us that if Murphy and Larry (my other two dogs) were heard barking again we’d get fined. So smuggling Jovie places continued. And still continues. If you’ve had lunch or dinner with me at a restaurant, chances are you had lunch or dinner with Jovie as well.
So I told you all of that as a backstory as to WHY my puppy was with me when I went to Barnes and Noble the other day. She was tucked away in her pet duffel bag with a blanket. As I entered the store to write and drink coffee in the café area I figured I’d better use the ladies’ room first.
I went into the handicapped stall and I was going to put Jovie’s bag on the diaper changing table but it looked… unhygienic. So I hung her from the coat hook on the back of the stall door.
As I was sitting down, Jovie stared at me through the mesh of her bag, comfy on her blanket, her little fluffy face eyeing me with interest. As we locked gazes I thought, Geesh, she is such a good dog! What other dog would be complacently hanging in midair, watching their owner go potty?
Someone entered the restroom, but I was too caught up in my doggie appreciation euphoria, and without thinking I said, my voice warm and affectionate, “You’re such a good girl! What a good girl you are. I love you, good girl!”
The person in the restroom went completely quiet and I realized she had no idea there was a dog in the bathroom and so she probably assumed I was speaking to my VAGINA. Maybe praising it for going number one. I don’t know.
Anyway, it’s weird because vagina seems to be a theme this week as SHE came up on Facebook in the form of a friend request.
I get A LOT of friend requests from people wanting to sell me stuff. Vitamins, wraps, colon cleanses, coaching, oils… you name it. When someone requests me I always check out their profile and if they have a crap ton of posts claiming their product is AMAZING and will *change lives* then I politely decline because, honestly, I probably need everything everyone is selling but I’m just a cheap bastard at heart and I hate saying no thank you over and over to hopeful hustlers.
So back to the vagina friend request. It was a girl (and I hope she’s reading this because I think she’s super cool) that has over 40 mutual friends with me and she didn’t appear to be selling anything… BUT her latest post was a pic of her holding her private area (clothed of course) and she wrote that she talks to her vagina and her vagina talks to her and I was like, WHAT THE HELL?!?!?!?! YES, WE MUST BE FRIENDS IMMEDIATELY BECAUSE… WHAT THE HELL??? I was totally intrigued. Also, I discovered through another of her posts that for $25 she will use brushes to paint on your vagina and then she will smoosh your vagina against paper so that you have a portrait of your vajayjay to frame and to hang… well… wherever you would want to display a portrait of your lady bits.
I think it’s awesome that this girl and her followers consider their feminine gardens as spiritual individuals because I’ve never thought to regard my vagina as a separate entity. Like… my brain could be its own person because it controls my body, but my vagina doesn’t control a whole lot. Which, come to think of it, is both a relief and kind of depressing at the same time. However if it DID control me I would probably be sleeping with Tom Selleck right now. Like if my vagina was the boss of me she’d stop at nothing to get what she wants. She wouldn’t be opposed to stalking Tom or breaking and entering. She’d probably storm the gates of his physical and marital barriers and demand what she desires.
I could totally see her barging into his bedroom in the middle of the night screaming, “GET IN ME!!!”
I’d never have the balls to do that but my vagina would.
