The Blog of Bex

I became aware of a documentary today called 'Orgasmic Birth'. It documents, essentially, women who have "natural" deliveries and then are blessed with some kind of orgasm at the end of the delivery. Wha... really ????! I've had three kids, but they've all been born via c-section. In the beginning I really wanted a vaginal birth...it just never happened for me (stupid cervix). But I planned for it, gave it a lot of thought and when I was crafting my Personal Birthing Plan my doctor asked me to put whether or not I'd like drugs and I wrote (after careful seconds of consideration), "Hell yes, I want the drugs! And if y'all are running low just let me know and I'll bring my own!" That having been said, I have plenty of girlfriends who have done it without anything and they are just fine. Although, one would think that the same women who told me that I've just got to get a Rabbit vibrator would have the 4-1-1 on the orgasm at delivery if...

This is why I love Southern Women. And Drag Queens. Sing it, Sista!!!

I met a very interesting woman today. We were at a luncheon and were seated across from one another at a long table. She introduced herself to me and we began chatting. Suddenly, things got weird: Her: This egg salad sandwich is YUMMY. Me: Mine, too! There must be relish in here.... Her: Speaking of eggs, I have endometriosis . Me: Oh man, that sucks. I have a couple of girlfriends who have it, too. (the men at the table are now slowly scooting their chairs away from us while I bat my eyes at them, silently imploring "PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME HERE BY MYSELF!") Her: It's VERY painful. I had cysts on my uterus AND cervix. I also have boils taken out from time-to-time. It really sucks. Me: Ummm ... yah , I'd imagine. Oh! Not to change the subject or anything, but did you SEE the cake over there!!! Wow!! Her: I like cake. It reminds me of my ovaries. Me: ......eh.... So...I hate to change the subject again, but I'm dying to know: what do you do for a living?? Her: I...

On my way to drop my kids off at the local elementary school this morning there was a police officer who was directing traffic. I was behind 5 other cars that he had stopped so that another line of traffic could go. We had been sitting there for about 30 seconds when the truck behind me beeped his horn. I glanced in the rear view mirror thinking, "Hey, Einstein. I'm not stopped here because I love the way the beater Chevy in front of me feeds poisonous gases into my car. Open your fucking eyes and see that we either have to stop or run a cop over while our kids are in the car." But I kept my acerbic and witty comments to myself as I had wee ones in the car. Because I have self control. Anyway, as we entered the drop off zone I stopped the car (because that's what I typically do when SMALL CHILDREN need to get out of the fucking car) and my two daughters picked up their bags and hopped out. As my second grader was closing the door she said, "I love you, Mommy....

So you know...I live in Florida now. The good news is that my southern accent is stronger than ever - I think it was some sort of defense mechanism...of or for what, I have no idea. I definitely miss Atlanta and my friends, though, especially now. Spring in Atlanta is SO beautiful. But Florida is pretty nice, too. We go to the beach at least once a week and we all love having a pool in the backyard. Also, my husband makes me a Planter's Punch every night and I don't even feel guilty by knocking it back - we're on vacation, right?? A couple of weeks ago I was reading the news and saw this weird picture: In case your eyes can't make sense of it, I'll give you a hint. It's not a puppy. I'm guessing it's not an air freshener, either. It is, in fact, a Burmese Python that ruptured and now has a really big dead Alligator sticking out of it's stomach. Oh, and something ate the snakes head off. That's why there is no head there. National Geographic has...

In Florida our homeless people seem to have some sort of union or something. They have matching uniforms and are up - at the crack of dawn - asking for donations on my street corner as I'm unsuccessfully trying to hustle my kids to school on time. And it's always the same guy which leaves me to wonder, "If you can get your shit together enough to show up here everyday asking for money, why don't you just...oh, I don't know...get a job or something??" My guy, I call him Hud (stands for homeless unkempt dude), is not tall enough. This is basically a nicer way of saying that he's fat. But Hud is totally FAT!! I keep wondering just exactly how needy IS this guy when he can afford to eat an extra thousand calories a day?! Every morning he greets me in the same fashion - he puts a sad little frown on his crinkly face and holds his hand up with his thumb and index finger almost touching as if to say, "Sadly, my shrinky dink is only this big... that's w...

About 15 years ago I got a call from my sister-in-law. She was graduating from college and needed a chaperone to drive from California to the East coast with her. The reason for this, I would find out later, is that she was a notoriously bad driver. And I don't mean this figuratively. I'm being pretty fucking literal. As in, she literally flipped a car 3 or 4 times on a highway one time. That kind of stuff. Anyway, I was just as willing way back then (as I am now) to shirk my responsibilities and do something stupid so I said "sure!" and caught a flight across the country to hook up with her. She is a sweet girl and we had a lot of fun meeting in San Francisco, going to L.A., Vegas, Carhenge...you name it. At one point, somewhere in or around Colorado, I became exhausted and wanted to stop for the night. I was pretty tired of the Motel 6's we'd been frequenting and asked if we could use a phone book to look up a Bed and Breakfast. She'd never heard of th...