Pearlin' It

So yes, I'm still hunting accessories for the wine gala like a maniac and I'm as viciously indecisive as ever. What do you guys think of this Audrey Hepburn inspired Necklace from Lovett & Co?

Since I'll be a little underdressed in my Free People number, I want to make up for it wherever I can, so I'm going with bold statement jewelry. What's the word?

Doctors Confuse Me

About a week ago I was visiting my suspiciously eccentric doctor at the French version of Planned Parenthood to renew my prescription for oral contraceptives. I mentioned my UTI problems as this was before my embarrassing revelation of a few days ago. He wrote up my 3 month prescription and suggested that I go to the office "across the street," to another medical office, and get a test for some common vaginal infections and bacteria just in case they may be the cause. According to him, it would be free, quick and painless, and though it was likely to come up with nothing, it may dredge up a cause for my bout of urinary infections.

He wrote what I needed on a piece of paper to show to the doctor and told me to go next door and make an appointment. I did. Today, I went in, and was lead into an office... where I was pretty sure the same doctor was sitting. He acted like he'd never seen me before and, after all, I was in an entirely different building.. so I did the same. I handed him the piece of paper that I was pretty sure he wrote, describing what I needed and he read it again, like he'd never seen it before. The guy was really lookin' like the other guy.. and sounding like the other guy.. so while I nodded politely and explained all my personal details as though we just met I glanced at the name plate on his desk. Was it the same name??? I couldn't really remember. The minute he left his chair I dug around in my purse for any documentation from the first doctor that would say his name. Nothing.

When I got home I relayed my story of the duplicate doctor to TMI and we dug up an old contraceptive prescription. SAME NAME. Why did that guy write a letter to himself and tell me to take it to him? How exactly do you forget a Hawaiian in France with my terrible accent?

In conclusion the French medical system just confuses me.

Itchy but Intimate

OK so, this is going to gross the great majority of you out. So the squeamish and those of you who don't appreciate the more intimate details of this blog, turn back now. But I figure since I've been complaining about UTIs and their mysterious persistence and recurrence on and off, I aught to dish out some answers.. as embarrassing as they are. After intensive internet research and TMI and I both occasionally dealing with an itchy butt over the last few months, I finally put two and two together. Get ready, it's not pretty: pinworms.

Both my lover and I have them. But honestly, this was close to happy news: a common complication of pinworms in females are urinary tract infections, so I may have just figured out why I've been so plagued by the horrible painful things the last 5 months and never before. And thank goodness, the cause is curable. Also it explains the nightly itching in both me and my partner. So the treatment? Lots and LOTS of raw garlic; both orally, and well... yes, at night, when we should be kissing, whispering sweet nothings, dimming the lights and falling into the bed in passionate love making, we're helping each other apply raw garlic to one another's butts and then lying around moaning and groaning as we endure the subsequent burning. Romance at it's best.

Sun Up

It's darkest just before the sunrise. Whoever came up with that wasn't just trying to be poetic, in fact, I suspect they were probably in love with a European while saddled with a passport from the other side of the world watching in dismay as their visa was quickly running out. Mere weeks ago I was flailing in complete obscurity while the clock was ticking, and suddenly, now, new hope and solutions are appearing all around me like a buried city in a wind storm. And not a moment too soon!

I'm soon to be enrolled in an online masters program in Art Administration. I'll be free to be nomadic and spontaneous while at the same time doing something responsible and specifically designed for my dream career: owning my own art gallery. The MA opens up all sorts of internship possibilities with galleries and museums in France, allowing me to come back with my current visa, erasing all my previous angst about embassy visits on the West Coast, and even offering up a solution for participating in paid activity while abroad. TMI has given his notice on his apartment and will soon split the rent here with me and stick his name downstairs on the intercom. Not only is it heartwarming and financially alleviating, it means I get to keep this place when I leave and not worry about traveling with every last one of my possessions when I go back to Hawaii. And, finally, my favorite development: TMI has a 5 month internship starting in August of next year and going until December. He's been applying at vineyards on the West Coast, which means July with my family in Hawaii, six months on the west coast probably interning in fabulous galleries in San Fran while living with the man I love, and then traversing the Pacific ocean once again with him in tow for Christmas with my family. That's a sunny future! And it popped up just when things looked so bleak I was ready to give up.

In one of my favorite emails from my best friend, she told me "it will all work out in the end; and if it doesn't, it's probably not the end yet." And while "just before the sunrise" may seem like a lotta hooey when you're stumbling along in the dark, I know now to practice patience. All those times I was wishing future-me could show up and give me advice, I now know what I would say: Every situation, now matter how good or bad, will change. So chillax!

In final news check out this banner I made:

You may also wanna check out the fabulous blogger I'm doing it for, and my etsy store if you may want one for yourself ;)

Thanks for reading!

Smooth Road, Boring Drive

I can't help but notice the effects a perfect relationship with a gorgeous French man has on my blog. Without the changing sexual partners and scale of sexual quality to complain or boast about, the writing does tend to get a little... domestic.

Last night on Sex and the City, (go ahead, shoot me) someone was complaining about "mind blowing sex" intellectual connection, and the apparent impossibility to have both. I almost thought, with a kind of mild creative dismay, that I do have both: Everyday I have mind-blowing sex, ranging from intimate to dirty and dangerous, and at the same time I have daily affirmations of lasting love, intensive intimacy, and a seemingly infallible connection. That's all great for my well-being, but for my literary life it's been taking it's toll.

The sex is still averaging at 3 times a day, we order take out sushi and eat in front of reruns of Sex and the City and old French filcs, we read in a bed like an old couple and play video games together like a pair of adolescents. As though to damper my present bonheur, however, my mom sent me a bunch of affirmations for the New Year; one of them was "remember, no matter how good or bad a situation is, it will change." Good news for those who are suffering and simultaneously bad news for those having multiple orgasms. Do all good things come to an end? My blog is probably hoping so.