I had an
interesting weekend - spent it with wonderful friends, good food and a good
wine. There were so many great conversations, but the one that stuck with me
the most was a conversation I had with my good friend and neighbour. We were
making tea and chatting when I announced that I had just bought a huge bag of
dried fruit. This is significant to my life as I realised that I will save a
heap of money this month because I won’t be buying so many small packets of
dried fruit. One may even call it a minor triumph! I digress… The man,
obviously sharing in my delight, asked if there were any ‘ears’. I handed him
the packet from which he pulled out a dried pear. He held up his prize and
pointed out the many ways in which it looked like an ear. I plucked a pear from
the packet but instead of an ear all I saw was a vagina. I didn’t want to be
‘that’ girl so I just offered a feeble: “Well I guess if you hold it like this
it looks like a pixie ear.” He took a moment to contemplate this and said:
“Actually it looks like a vagina!” I was so relieved that I was not the only
one who thought that. I said as much and carried on rummaging in the fruit
packet. But he just carried on exploring his dried pear. “Look it even has that
beaky thing.” He pointed to the part of the pear that looks like a clitoris. I
just replied with: “hmmmmm”. But before I could add anything to that, my
neighbour continued “I am not really sure what that thing is all about - I just
generally ignore it!” I stopped drinking my tea and stared at him.
I share
this anecdote with you not only because it is funny, but because I have been
thinking about the pussay for a while now. No, not in that way. It’s my annual
you see - every woman dreads that visit to the gynae – but we gotta do it I
know most people don’t want to know about this stuff - but for the rest, let
this be an education.
The test is
pretty standard, and I know that the doctor has seen a million vaginas and she
really doesn’t care, but you still want to look your best. I decided this year
I was going to go all out and surprise the good doctor with some vajazzeling. This is the art of bejewelling ones V. Unfortunately I
couldn’t find a salon that did it, so I opted for the old Hollywood wax
instead. You know – give her a real good view. (A Hollywood is the art of
removing every single hair from the pubic region. EVERY SINGLE ONE).
The
Beautician asked me what the occasion was (she could see that I had not been
there in a while), to which I responded: “I am going to see someone really
important – someone that I haven’t seen in a while.” She asked me if I’ve ever
tried ‘bleaching’ - which I hadn’t. “You simply must try it,” she said, “This
is the new thing that everyone is doing.” I was convinced. The next thing I
knew, I found myself on my hands and knees with the beautician painting bleach
onto my actual ass hole! I don’t know what I expected when she said ‘bleaching’
– but it was not that!
Actually
the whole ordeal was rather liberating and the bleach was rather soothing in a
cold-ointment-on-anus kind of way. And once I left the beauty salon I could not
wait to show the gynaecologist. I have a strict rule: Only sexy people are
allowed to see/touch/feel my vagina. My gynae is the hottest doctor I have ever
seen. She is always dressed is sexy evening attire, full make–up and jewellery.
I don’t mind her around the bits. In fact, the worst part about the visit is
sitting in the waiting room, because at my age people assume I am a pregnant
teenager or that I have a venereal disease!
There is a
point to my mingy ramblings – I am not just a crazy feminist wanting to do
another vagina monologue. I just want everybody to be aware that they have a V
and, unlike my neighbour, I expect everyone to know exactly what it does so
that you can use it properly and protect yourself from people who can’t. And
even though it is a really uncomfortable visit, you should go see your doctor
once a year. I guess that concludes my women’s month monologue. (Also get the
breasts checked – because you are special.)
