Fucking Malbec

I just ordered $70 worth of extra cute clothes off Modcloth.com because I am damn near wasted and STILL avoiding this stupid easy paper! I wonder if there are any typos in the 3/4 I have managed to finish. It's seriously idiot-proof-- the instructions are "Re-write this paragraph in cogent sentences." I can't wait to expound upon the the laughs I regularly get out of this class. You'll see!

I hope I don't regret this tomorrow. That dress IS really cute and and those tights DO have a lot of reviews affirming how adorable and warm and winter-friendly they are (no, I'm not wearing them together). This better not be like that time I blacked out from vodka and pineapple juice and was found by my snotty ass roommates with a credit card and a dildo on the desk. That was embarrassing. Except I guess that time I woke up on my mom's couch next to a letter from her I didn't understand because my capacity for English had disappeared, and this time I'll wake up in time for work with a stabby brain-stem headache and hoping I have some Alka Seltzer Morning Relief in my desk. (That shit's gold, folks.)

Oops, wine glass is empty.

You put a what in your where??

Here on Gini & Tonic, we only have marginal boundaries, and as I get older, those boundaries seem to weaken further and further. And so it is with only a modicum of apprehension that I share with you the following.


I'll spare you the gory details, but basically I got a little too kinky recently and now something weird is going on downstairs. I am aware that I could request a visit my internist to have something prescribed, but that would take weeks because it's the Med Center and it always takes weeks, and then I would smell like glue for awhile and only after another cycle would I be back to normal. Alternately, I could go to Planned Parenthood and presumably be seen before Friday, but I'm pretty sure I don't fit their minimum requirements, i.e. I don't have Juicy stamped across my ass (thanks rl) and I actually make more than $5.25 an hour. However, that option is equally a no-option because dammit, I am not interested in missing work for this bullshit. So instead I turned to the interwebs because Google has all the answers and really, I should be able to fix this shit at home.


And it turns out I can! All I have to do is soak a tampon in yogurt and let my vagina snack on it!


I actually read a bit about this on Nicole's blog and was like WHY THE FUCK WOULD ANYBODY DO SUCH A BIZARRE THING! Clearly I had no idea I would also be riding the yogurt wave one short month later out of a desperate desire for my sweet-smelling muffin to return to me. Thanks a lot for holding out, Google. Well. At least now I can just sit on a yogurt-bathed tampon in peace and broadcast it to internet friends instead of to a judgey doctor.


Behold:

Yes indeed, that's what you think it is. Low-fat because my girl is plump enough already, thanks. Husband isn't home or he'd be all "what in the fucking fuck fuck are you doing??" And then I'd offer him a bite.


Hm...I wonder if he'd accept or if he'd be too weirded out? Anyway, onward and upward!

UPDATE: This totally worked!! Homegirl is fresh as an angel's whisper! 

Welp, that was short-lived.

After some deep soul-searching (reveling in self-appointed freedom by getting wasted and ahem, knitting, not necessarily in that order) and scraping together enough money to pay the final tuition bill so I could see my gut-wrenching grade, I was absolutely shocked to find that the hard-nosed profesora who literally frightened me into stuttering in Spanglish every time she so much as turned an eye on me, GAVE ME AN A.

A FUCKING A???!!!!!???

I really shouldn't complain. It's an A for Awesome! Or Awesomely Bad. Let's go with that. But how in holey cheese HELL did I get an A?? I know participation was 20% of the grade, and after the terrible Spanglish incident, I pretty much never opened my mouth in front of the class again. Sometimes she called on me and I blathered some more and I wanted to punch myself in the face and the balls at the same time. But I never volunteered my stuttering services. Based on my 20% of FAIL, the best I could hope for was a B and only then if I totally destroyed the tests instead of the manner in which I only slightly shredded them. What about the other rock stars in class who totally deserved their As because they were actually Awesome instead of Awesomely Bad? I realize I'm being a total schmuck by complaining about my A, but I feel like I only got it by being pathetic and making the profesora feel sorry for poor, blindsided, nervously babbling Gini who really, really needed some tonic with that. It's like a pity fuck! WIN but LOSE! Dignity who?

So of course this A for Awesomely Bad has me rethinking my decision to quit school a mere seven classes away from graduating because really, if I super duper wanted to be a CFA, I would be studying up on investment shit right now and mocking up business cards that don't have high heels on them. I really like speaking Spanish and I crazy love planning Husband's and my vacations to Central America (by the way, we frequently vacation in Central America because it's cheap as all get-out and AMAZING), and I would crazy love to plan other people's vacations to Central America. I'd be competitive too, as every single year our trips cost less and less because I am Queen Shit of Research Mountain. But I have no idea how to do any sort of consulting business, and how could I be sure anybody in Guatemala or El Salvador would follow through in picking up my clients and transporting them instead of delivering them into the hands of robbers, or be sure my clients weren't accidentally killed because they rode a chicken bus and got shot or jumped off a waterfall inside a cave, or fell through hardened magma into the fiery heart of a somewhat-dormant volcano?

That's why I'll probably never be a travel planner, and will just think about how cool it would be instead. This is why I'll stay in my cubicle and be a passive worker forever, blogging and reading DListed.

Anyway. Now I'm thinking about taking the Fall advanced conversation class since it's the next logical step in the stupid degree program at stupid UNO because I'd speak even better afterward AND it's by the same profesora who apparently gives an easy A AND PLUS I'd be in class with HCL and that's a win right there and RUN-ON SENTENCES. (By the way, I got the eBay phone condom. Have you gotten any spam texts from me yet?) Get used to this forwards/backwards decision-making nature because I do it ALL. THE. TIME.

I still don't need the degree. But I would like to further my Spanich-spakin edumacation in an accredited sort of way. :)