Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Va-jay-jays, Va-jay-jays Everywhere
When you spend so much time thinking about a certain part of your body, that body part starts appearing...everywhere.
For instance, I've been on a postcard kick lately and so went to the post office to get a book of postcard stamps. The stamps are tropical fruits sliced open and...well, see the picture for the rest of my thoughts.
So far I've used three stamps: one starfruit, one pomegranate, and with the last postcard I forced myself to use a kiwi. The papaya and the guava might be around until the next rate hike because I simply don't feel comfortable sending my postcards out with coochie tattoos.
And then there's shellfish, particularly mussels. I mean, come on! Can anyone eat them without thinking va-jay-jay?!
Sliced tomatoes, shell pasta, peapods, O Magazine. There was graffiti down the street that I could've sworn read "VAGY." I can't say "lips" without internally smirking. I'm becoming a specialized form of Beavis and Butthead -- or maybe a more advanced version as they stuck to wood and boobs and my observations would (huh huh) probably make them blush.
Sometimes I think about making a vulvodynia emblem that could go on blogs and Facebook profiles, but everything I come up with contains a hidden vag. My life is nonstop Where's Vagy? It's like the divine spirit of the universe: once you open your eyes to it, the va-jay-jay is everywhere.