Remember when I told you that little fairy tale about my… uh… friend…uh…” Cari,” and the time that she thought a peen was a piece of feces??

Well luckily for you, I have several more stories about Cari and her misfortunes up my sleeve.

I am not sure if I should actually be sharing this story, as the second leading character is a casual reader of this blog and is still a friend of Cari’s… and she has yet to confess this to him. If you are reading this (you know who you are) then I am going to go ahead and apologize on Cari’s behalf… and I really hope you’re not completely disgusted.

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Once upon a time there was a girl named Cari, who at one point in time was kinda-sorta-long-distance dating a friend of her’s named… let’s call him Sam.

Cari and Sam were still friends, and this particular weekend Cari was going down to H-town to visit her friends for a fun-times reunion.

The first night when Cari got in town began as every night with Sam began- with a vow not to get so drunk that they would be miserable for the rest of the weekend. A vow that was immediately sealed with a “cheers” and a shot of whiskey. And in their usual fashion, that shot was followed by a MANY more beers, several more shots, some conversation about politics, and a few rounds of shooting each other with a BB gun.

At some point in the night one of them got the bright idea to take half an ambien, stay up, and see what might happen.

The next few hours, as you can imagine, were a blur. Cari remembered watching some online comedy videos and…well, that’s about it.

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Oh yeah, so I guess I should probably tell you that, literally, the exact same thing that I wrote about in another TMI story happened to Cari on this particular trip down to Houston.

The short version: On the trip down to Houston, “Cari” remembered mid-drive that she had left the same tampon in for way over 12 hours. Fearing toxic shock, she then proceeded on taking it out whilst driving, putting it in a paper bag she found in her car, and promptly forgot about the said tampon, and completely forgetting it ever happened until several weeks later.

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The following morning Cari and Sam woke up feeling a little foggy headed, but all in all, they felt a lot better than they expected. They decided to continue with their weekend as planned, and head to Galveston for a relaxing day at the beach.  Somewhere along the drive Sam had to stop to fill up on gas and beer, and Cari took the opportunity to go to the restroom. She hadn’t thought about her period since the drive down, and was surprised to see that she had started back up a little. Luckily she had a tampon in her purse, so she quickly fixed the problem, no biggie.

It was a perfect day at the beach and everything went smoothly. After the beach, Sam and Cari checked into a hotel room and got ready to go have a nice dinner. Cari put on a dress and Sam put on a pair of khakis… the same khakis that he had been wearing the night before.

It wasn’t until they were in the car, well on their way to dinner that Cari noticed a peculiar stain above the knee on Sam’s pants.

Cari: Dude, you look really nice… but what’s all over your pants?

Sam: What? Ewww I have no idea!!! What is that??

Cari: I dunno, but it looks disgusting!

And it did. It basically looked like a few smears of  nastiness up down his thigh. Imagine eating cheetos, then wiping your fingers down your legs… only instead of orange, this shiz was brown.

Sam: Did I get into a wrestling match with someone in the front yard or somethin? It kinda looks like blood.

Cari: I have no idea… I don’t remember a single thing after taking the ambien! Maybe you spilled dip on it or something…

At that moment Cari had a random brief flash from the night before… in his bed.. kissing…  maybe?

That really wasn’t the type of relationship that they had…  Cari didn’t want to ask what happened as to create an awkward situation, so she decided to brush those thoughts away and change the subject.

Neither the oogey stain or anything that may have happened the night before was brought up again… until they got back to his house the following day and started to unload their  stuff in his room.

As they were unloading their things, Cari noticed Sam stooped over the bed examining the sheet.

Sam: Look! There it is! The same shit that is all over my pants!

Cari went to see what he was looking at, and sure enough… there were a few brownish splotches on the sheet around the foot of his bed.

It was at that point that Cari had a second flashback from her first night in town.

Yes… there was definitely kissing… And maybe a tiny bit more.

A feeling of dread washed over Cari’s body for the million and tenth time in her life.

For that’s when she knew exactly what those spots on his bed and on his pants were.

And she wasn’t about to admit that to Sam.

Cari: Oh yeah… I’m sure that’s dip. Or you know what? I think we may have spilled a cup that had cigarette butts in it!

Cari then changed the subject, and didn’t bring up the stains for the rest of the trip… or ever.

And they all lived happily ever after.

Until now.

My blog is entirely too easy to find.

For the most part, it doesn’t really bother me. I talk about it openly and even keep a link to it on my Facebook, one click away from virtually everyone who knows me. (I feel like “virtually” may have been a poor word choice, as I am talking about the people who know me personally, not just virtually…if that makes sense.) I have convinced myself that my family and anyone who has ever known me on a professional level are either way too busy to read my little ole’ site, or they just don’t care.

If you read this  and you know me in real life, you probably know that, even in person I am  extremely candid and am not afraid of sharing personal information when provoked, or even when I’m not.

And if you do know me and I get on your nerves, make you uncomfortable,  you think I’m too crass, or you think I drink too much, then you probably don’t enjoy reading my blog and therefore do not come here except to make fun of my life. If that is the case,  the pleasure is all mine because I live to be laughed at.

So basically what I’m trying to say is that I really hope y’all enjoy what you read and keep coming back for more, but if you don’t- then please do not tell me so because I like to believe everyone likes me.

Never mind.

However, I’ve recently realized there are a few instances where I believe that my beloved blog may be a teensy weensy bit of a problem.

The first thing I worry about is my career.

I purposely do not write about my work.  I’m mostly happy in what I do, but you never know when you’ll end up back on unemployment and needing to look for a job. If that happens, I’m not too excited about potential employees googling my email and finding this site. But I suppose I won’t worry about that until it happens.

The other instance in which I have found that my blog has been a little bit of a hinder, is in meeting new people, face to face.

While I may share way too much information with you about my own personal issues, I choose never to talk about my private relationships, more specifically- dating. This is mostly because that part of my life is incredibly boring and mostly inactive, but also I feel some things should be kept private.

Similarly, I’m not so sure how I feel about the fact that guys that I meet who have the potential for dating, are able to easily read about my idiosyncrasies, or about the time I took out a tampon whilst driving. I don’t want an anonymous blog and I like for my friends to be able to easily read, but I’m a little torn on this matter.

I guess this is something I’ll have to figure out for myself, but let me know if you have any advice.

In other news, I’m trying an experiment this week that may take me away from the computer a bit. Over the last few months I’ve noticed that I have been drinking a little more during the week than I feel is appropriate. Oh no, don’t go saying “I told you so, you have a problem.” This is not the case.

My problem is not of the drinking variety, so much as it is of the sleeping variety. A few hours before I go to sleep, I start to get extremely anxious- and come to the conclusion that I’ll probably never be able to fall asleep until 4 in the morning, I will miss work or be late, and then I’ll end up jobless and living on the streets feigning a crack addiction so I can get welfare. So as to avoid this scenario, I have taken to having a cocktail or a few glasses of wine before bed.

While it does help me to sleep, I don’t want to be one of those people who drinks every single night. I drink on weekends because I enjoy it, not because I need it to have a good time. I don’t particularly enjoy feeling the need to rely on alcohol for anything. And this is why I’m taking a break this week.

I know it’s really not that big of a deal, I’m only going until Halloween… but until then- not a single drop. I would really like to prove to myself that I can sleep like normal people. In order to achieve this goal, (as well as to fit into my Halloween skirt) I am also upping the gym time this week ten-fold. So bear with me if I’m a little grouchy and tired. Working out and not drinking can do that to a girl.

I will leave you today with a little gem from my email archives. A few months ago, one of my guy friends had a misunderstanding with his girlfriend. After many drinks, my friend left the following message on another one of my guy friend’s voice mail. Guy friend #2 then transcribed the message, for my- and now your, enjoyment.

“Fuck you not answering my call, I think you just fucking denied me.  I just wanted to talk about how girls are fuckin…….well they’re just fucking, i don’t know.  They’re just big fuckin vagina’s, i guess they do have vagina’s, but i like vagina’s.  But they’re just big fuckin bitches, a bitch bag, a big bag of douche.  I fuckin hate em, i’m just going to be asexual and jack myself off for the rest of my life.  I’d be a lot happier.  Hope your having fun…..Later”

Happy Monday everyone!