Make sure you check out Lilu’s site, and check out her TMI Thursday archives for all sorts of hilarity!

As I sit here writing, I am actually extremely close to having a TMI experience. My stomach is churning. I’m not sure if it’s because of the antibiotics I’m currently on, or because of the nearly 2 cups of peanut butter I spread over celery sticks last night in an effort to wain my sweet/carb tooth. Or it could be the gigantic bowl of beans I just ate. It’s most likely a combination of all of the above.

Refraining from eating carbs and drinking wine this week has resulted in my overindulging in protein in a not so healthy way. I’m not sure if this lifestyle is any better.

But that’s not my story. I’m gonna try to keep this short, because I may have an episode of emergencias de frijoles one way or the other in the near future. EEEEEK.

This particular tale occurred once again back in my days o’ college, or back when I was a still drinking. Which if you’re paying attention, was anytime before this Monday.

My friends and I were out in our college town, having our typical college night full of chugging nickle-natties and blasters. (Blaster= Fry St. code for Jager Bomb.)

I started out the night in typical “Hurricane Carissa” fashion- by dinging my best friend LA’s brand new (I mean within the first week brand new) car door against another car. She was a little peeved, but after the first few drinks and a few rants, she let it go.

On this particular night, we (read: I) were particularly boozed up. We made our way around all the bars and shortly before they closed at 2am, we decided it was time to call it a night. LA was playing designated driver for the night, mostly because she wanted a chance to drive us around in her new ride, but also because after the first bar it was apparent that neither I, or our other friend KT would be able to do the job.

Before we had even gotten to the parking lot, I made a loud announcement… “I have to pee.”

KT and I lived only a few blocks away, so they both quickly waved away my announcement and continued towards the parked car. Just as we were arriving at LA’s new car, KT’s ex-boyfriend spotted her in the parking lot. The details are blurry, but I do know that a heated argument started up between my friends and her ex’s group of friends. I stood a little behind the group, trying not to fall over as I looked longingly over my shoulder at the bars across the street, where I knew I could find a toilet street to squat over.

At some point during their argument, a couple of cops approached our group and started asking questions. Knowing I was not in a particularly good state of mind, and also that I didn’t have the best luck with the fuzz, LA sternly told me to go and get in the back seat of the car and to stay put.

“But I really have to go to the bathroom! Can’t I just run into one of the bars real quick,” I slurred. Or something to that effect.

“Absolutely not. Go and get into the car,” LA told me again as she pushed the clicker thing to unlock the door. “And do not get out of the car, no matter what.”

It all seemed a little dramatic, but at that point, I knew that my friend probably had better judgment than I, so I decided to follow her orders.

I got into the back seat of LA’s new car and settled in. I kept myself low in the seat as to not call attention to myself. The last thing I needed was to be interrogated. After about 5 minutes of waiting, I started to get a little restless… and my level of having to pee reallllly started escalating. I remember looking  out the back window and saw that the cops were now making my friends do the standard drunk tests. Walking the line and what not. Or at least that is how I remember it.

I contemplated getting out of the car and running to the nearest bar to relieve myself, but I knew that probably wouldn’t end well, so I ultimately decided to stay put for the time being. At this point I was going between squirming unrelentingly, and literally holding my crotchal area, trying to keep it in.

After about 5 more minutes I just couldn’t take it anymore. I had no choice. It was either pee now, or pee now. There was no longer the option of forever holding my pee.

My options were limited. I couldn’t run for a bar, I would surely be stopped en-route. I couldn’t get out and pop a squat, that would surely end with a public urination ticket, though at this point I hardly cared.

I crawled up into the front seat and started rummaging around.

AHHHH AHHHH AHHHH (heaven sound effect)

There it was, sitting in the cup holder… glowing in the dim light of the parking lot.

A 32oz wide-lip bottle of Lemon-Lime Gatorade.

I could do this.

I carefully unzipped my pants and pulled them off where they settled on the floorboard of LA’s new car. I put both feet up on the back seat, and shuffled then out until I was in frog squat position. I positioned myself so that my face was away from my group of friends, who were still talking to the cops.

And then I positioned the bottle.

Just as I was relaxing into my squat and gearing up to make careful aim, I heard a loud bang from behind me that caused me to lose my footing. Luckily, I hadn’t yet completely relaxed my urinal muscles.

I turned to see a cop shining his light through the window, where only seconds before my bare-behind had been. I quickly pulled my pants back on and hung my head in shame as I opened the back door.

The cop grabbed me by my arm and asked if I had managed to “do anything.” I told him that I hadn’t, and that I still really had to go. I think he must have felt bad for me, because at that point he swiftly drug me over to my friends, looked at LA and said “I’m not even gonna tell you what she almost just did in your car, but yall need to get her to a restroom.”

Everyone was so relieved that they were finally able to leave that no one even mentioned what the cop had said about me. We quickly left, and LA drove us home where I was finally able to pee.

We all lived happily ever after.

Until a few months later when LA was telling the story about the cops in the parking lot to another one of our friends. It was all fun and laughs until she got to the end. She stopped abruptly and looked at me with fire in her eyes.

“What DID you almost do in my brand new car????”

Oopsie. But you know what? It was not as bad as it coulda been.

-John Cusack’s girlfriend.

If you missed my vlog a few weeks ago where a tell a story in which I wasn’t so lucky, check it out here.

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I posted this yesterday, but not many people responded so I’m posting it again.  I’m stubborn like that!!!

I’ve been thinking a little bit about the future of my blog. I’m  close to 200 posts and will hit my 6 month bloggaversary in a few weeks, and I want to try something a little different. I have often been told that I have a story for pretty much every subject (that’s just my life) so I think in order to get me writing about things other than John Cusack, I would like to ask you to do a little blog assignment.  I give you dear readers, the task of asking me any questions you want to know about little ole me (and I will answer with complete honesty unless you’re a dick) , stories you would like to hear extended versions of (My 100 things post might give you some ideas,) or any other subject matter that you would like to know my opinion on (or a poem about)…. and if I don’t have an opinion on the matter, I’ll get one!!! Just send an email to me at carissajade@gmail.com, tweet me, or pop it off my comments. Thanks and I love you guys!

I also plan on doing a giveaway in the next few weeks, so keep your eyes open. I promise I won’t be giving away one of my decoupage art pieces. Unless you want one I could decoupage something of your request.

I’ve been thinking a lot the last few weeks about what I want my New Years Resolutions to be. I know, I know… once again I’m super late- but it’s better late than never, right?

So I’ve been thinking of a few goals/things I want to do/things I want to do less of in 2010.

Here we go:

*Drink less. I don’t mean anything drastic like quit or anything… because come one look who you’re talking to. But I do want to lead a healthier life style, and in order to do so (both physically and mentally) I figure I need to start to make more mature choices. Or rather not do as many stupid things. Because as funny as I think it is that I fell off the stage doing karaoke, even I know that is not something a 27 year old should be boasting about on the internets. However, I don’t intend to stop singing in public. That’ll never happen. Butttttt I am kicking off the year with a week of not drinking. Not at all. I’m no alchy, but I do enjoy my glass or two of wine a night. I’ll be completely honest, I probably wouldn’t start so drastically if it weren’t for the antibiotics that I am on, but it was an incintive to actually get started!

** I must note, so that you can anticipate, that very soon after my week of non-drinking is over- my new pal Austin over at Fake British Accent (check him out) and I are planning a very special blogging/drinking adventure. It will all be documented here. and there. More details coming soon, but it is certain to be an adventure.

*Read more. I have always been an avid reader, but somewhere along the last few years I have really been a slacker. I’m not even trying to set lofty reading goals here… I’ll be happy if I can get a few Jane Green or Dean Koontz novels in a month. Or if you have any suggestions for books that you love, feel free to share.

*Stick with the diet. You guys, I have really come so far. 112 lbs lost now since September 2008. I’m actually happy with my weight now, for the most part. Now I want to tone up, tone up, tone up! N0one likes a pair of saddle-bags, and I’m pretty sure I’ve been sporting some silly since my weight loss.

*Go to the frickin dentist. I won’t even admit to you how long I have been putting this off. I mean really, I am a disgusting person. I take good enough care of em, I mean I always brush at least  once twice a day and I floss every night, but still… I know for a fact I have at least one cavity. In all other areas of my health I’ve grown to actually like going to the doctor to put myself at ease. Like last week, when I found out my cancer was just a cold. Stuff like that. Maybe I’ve just seen “Little Shop of Horrors” too many times and have developed a severe case of dentistphoobia, (woah spell check didn’t tell me that word is wrong) but I need to kick it now!!

*Learn to drive these Chev-rolegs. I walk, do the elliptical, and even do spin class pretty regularly, but I’ve never been a runner. Nor do I intend to be… but after cheering on my friends at their half-marathon a few weeks ago, I figure I at least have a 5K in me.

*Get John Cusack to recognize the fact that he has no choice but to be my boyfriend. You may be getting tired of this, but I’m not gonna stop until I’m at the top of the google search for “John Cusack’s Girlfriend.”

That’s enough for me to fail at I think. Actually I think these are mostly doable. Except for maybe the running thing. The John Cusack thing is totally doable.

Oh, and one more thing that I think is gonna be kind of a toughie. I know I’ve said it before, but for the most part- I really don’t care what people think of me. I know I’m a big weirdo and people either love or hate me and that’s fine, but I think I gotta work on this crazy head. Near the end of last year, (you may have noticed from a series of debbie-downer posts) I went through a bout of semi-depression and woah’s me talk. Along with a bunch of shit that’s been goin on in my life, I started to get a little insecure with the way my life was going. I have never been like that. I started getting upset that I haven’t met any of my long-time life goals (becoming a SNL writer) or that I don’t even really have a clear plan. I’ve started to see a lot of my friends get married and have children, and they all seem to know exactly what they want out of their lives. I swear I’m not jealous of where they are or what they are doing, but I am a little jealous that they KNOW what they want to do.

I have come to the realization that maybe not having a plan is my plan. I think it is my path. I know I do need to keep with goals, but I also know that I would probably freak out if I got into a career that I couldn’t get out of. Maybe this sounds silly. Maybe it is silly. But it makes sense in my crazy head!

On top of that, I also have to realize that everyone just thinks differently. I think I spend too much time trying to get into people’s heads and figure out why they do what they do, or don’t do the things I want them to do. Just as I can look back at my last year and question some of the decisions and choices that I made, I know that I won’t ever be able to figure people out. People do what they need to do at the time, sometimes without a rhyme or reason. I guess they are kind of like piss in the wind.

And I think I can come to terms with that. Whatever will be, will be. Whatever happens, happens. And the 4o other ways there are to say that. I’m gonna learn to be cool with it and not let it drive me nutso.

So yeah, not sure if that makes sense, but I had to get that out there.

So here’s (cheers with my water) to a New Year. A successful one. One full of laughs and not so many tears. To you new friends and old ones to!

____

And on a completely different note, I’ve been thinking a little bit about the future of my blog. I’m  close to 200 posts and will hit my 6 month bloggaversary in a few weeks, and I want to try something a little different. I have often been told that I have a story for pretty much every subject (that’s just my life) so I think in order to get me writing about things other than John Cusack, I would like to ask you to do a little blog assignment.  I give you dear readers, the task of asking me any questions you want to know about little ole me (and I will answer with complete honesty unless you’re a dick) , stories you would like to hear extended versions of (My 100 things post might give you some ideas,) or any other subject matter that you would like to know my opinion on (or a poem about)…. and if I don’t have an opinion on the matter, I’ll get one!!! Just send an email to me at carissajade@gmail.com, or pop it off my comments. Thanks and I love you guys!

I also plan on doing a giveaway in the next few weeks, so keep your eyes open. I promise I won’t be giving away one of my decopauge art peices. Unless you want one I could decopauge something of your request.

Make sure you check back to Lilu’s Archives… You will laugh your ass off!

Ok people, you know the rules. If you are in any way related to me, have a high opinion of me, get grossed out easily, or most importantly- are of the male variety- it might be a good idea for you to leave now.

Like really…This one is not for ones who are easily grossed out… skiddadle!

Too far? Perhaps.

Yes indeed, kiddos- Today’s topic is…. Yeast Infections!!!

You hear that?

That was the sound of me losing about 300 Facebook friends and all of my followers on Twitter.

Oh well.

(Who am I kidding? Nowhere near that many people read this…)

If you are a woman, and have taken antibiotics or left a swimsuit on too long, you’ve probably had one. I am lucky enough to have only had a few, but my experience with them was bad enough that I have moved them up to #2 on the list of things that I would rather eat 7 boogers to avoid. (and I hate boogers with a passion.) I know there is nobody who enjoys them, (except for maybe a self-hating masochist) but I feel my hate affair with yeast infections is an especially passionate one.

I probably didn’t pay close enough attention in my Human sexuality class, because when I woke up one morning  and felt like a Queen fire ant had decided to settle her colony in the lower region of my body, the possibility that it could be a yeast infection didn’t even cross my mind. Of course I came to the conclusion that most naive girls would… that I had contracted some nasty, horrible, itching disease! I didn’t want to tell any of my friends about it, so I called my mother.

I was only a Junior in college at the time, and I think my parents still preferred to believe that my “true love waits” ring was planted firmly on my finger. This made it exceptionally difficult for me to tell my mother, between sobs, that not only was I a huge slut who had “done more than make out” with a boy, but I had also caught a disease that made me want to tear my eyeballs out of my head. She was surprisingly calm and made an appointment for me to see a doctor.

It only took a few minutes after my doctor checked out my lady bits, before she told me the diagnosis. I prepared my self for the worst.

After she told me, I was quiet for a few seconds as I let it all sink in.

A yeast infection?

A YEAST INFECTION!!!!

I couldn’t even be happy that I wasn’t diseased, because I gave up my parent’s pristine view of myself… for a yeast infection???

Nevertheless, I picked up my medicine, went home and put it in, then spent the next 6 hours lying upside down on the couch with my feet up in the air, in hopes that that would expedite the process.

Since that day, I have vowed to go to great lengths to avoid experiencing the dreaded Y.I again. As I have told you before, I have a teensy bit of an obsession with Web MD. You’d be surprised at all the useful  interesting information out there to prevent Y.I’s .. Plus  it makes me feel better to know I’m being pro-active. I make sure I remove any wet bathing suits as soon as I get out of the water. I even change after a hard work out. I try to eat a diet rich with yogurt and miso soup. I take AZO yeast prevention pills, Pro biotic supplements, and Cranberry pills.

This picture was taken a few weeks ago at a bar. These items were in my purse.

(Yes, I’m aware that I probably shouldn’t follow the home remedies I read on the internet, nor do I need to take so many pills a day… but who am I not to take advice from strangers?)

In case your curious, I have also found some options on the internets for home remedy just in case you do get a case of the “rip out my vajayjay-sies.”

*Honey… You’re supposed to essentially smear it on your netherlands. From what I can tell, it doesn’t do anything but make your legs stick together. But it does smell delicious.

*Vinegar… poured into the bathtub. It doesn’t do a damn thing except make your whole body smell like a foot.

*Yogurt… You’re supposed to put it in there.  I don’t even really like to put yogurt in my mouth all that much.

*Hydrogen Peroxide... I use hydrogen peroxide nightly in my mouth and it kind of bubbles.  hmmm….

*Garlic… Keeping out vampires and yeast infections since 1703. (but you also have to put this shiz up there.)

Whatever you do ladies, no matter how crazy you may feel… Do not, I repeat DO NOT reach for the round brush on your bed side table.

*** I just realized that this was the second TMI that I have posted about devastating events involving my wa-nana where I had to cry to my mamma. Neither my relationship with my mother, nor my relationship with my lady parts are usually so dramatic.

And in other completely unrelated “Too Much Information” news, today when I was taking a shower, I noticed that I have seriously been neglecting mowing my upper thighs. I mean seriously, if I were to show you a picture (I won’t! You’re welcome!)- you would definitely think I were a man right now. It is definitely time for a little upper leg maintenance.