Chicken Fried Vogue

For 15 years and most of her adult life, Bubblez lived in the suburbs of a major metropolitan city. She enjoyed taking her children to museums, parks, and dates at Starbucks. Then Bubblez moved to the country and her En Vogue attitude got chicken fried. Her yard is a park where the neighbor's rooster won't stop crowing, Starbucks is almost an hour away, and her large collection of fancy shoes is worthless. But, living in the acres of green has presented more opportunities for living "green" as Bubblez travels the path toward self-sufficiency (and bitches ((and prays)) along the way).

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

A Country Song Pelvic Party

Since having moved to Country Song, USA, I have yet to schedule my annual. You know what I'm talking about, right? The exam that beats all exams? The one where Dr This Might Be A Little Cold goes spelunking through my lady parts in search of mysteries unknown? I'm also almost due for my very first garage door treatment, the one where they attempt to squish out whatever perkiness might be left in my boobs after growing older and nursing 4 kids (as if).

Where it's never a treat, I do tend to be generally responsible about my feminine health. But living in Country Song, I've run into a dilemma. In a world where everyone knows everyone, how many of those people do I really want to know details about my nether region?

It's awkward enough knowing that I might run into an old boyfriend (or his wife/sister/mom/grandma/cat: cat knows more than anybody.. Cat was there), but when my kid plays soccer with the doc's kid, I just don't know. Do I really want to be passing out cookies at the next first grade holiday party with the person who was just recently cranking antique power tools around in my wahoo?

So, I realized I have two choices. I can either drive an hour to another town where no one knows me, OR I can just say what hell and make it a party. That's right. I'll invite all of my closest friends and we'll have cocktails. It's Bubz's Pelvic Partay and ManHandlagram. And really it's only fitting seeing as I did first meet my doc's nurse when I traveled to the casino to watch male strippers during a friend's Bachlorette party.

I mean, shoot. If I'm gonna show one person who I see around town, I may as well show everybody. Right?

So, what do you think? Martinis? Should be fun. I'll let you know the date.

1 comment:

  1. YEAH. I'm glad you are blogging. THIS was meant to be.