From the category archives:


Not Your Mother’s Vagina

by Marinka on July 31, 2014

I do not have a bucket list. Really, I don’t. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t have goals. Lofty, admirable goals. And one of those goals is to figure out which fucking Always pads to buy once and for all. Preferably before the onset of menopause. I’m racing against the clock here, people. Mona Lisa Vito had it easy in comparison. And I suspect there’s no Oscar in my future.

The other day I went to my local Rite Aid to buy some Always pads. (Btw, if I ever do make a bucket list, DO NOT EVER GO TO RITE AID AND STAND ON THEIR BREADLINE-INSPIRED-LINE will be at the tippy top with stars all around it. And not D-list, either.) Despite my inability to pick out the right pad, I am loyal to Always. It’s like their brand name hypnotized me into thinking that I must ALWAYS buy it. And it reminds me of this masterpiece, so how can I resist?

It always ends badly. I don’t understand the feminine hygiene product code-speak. It’s overnight and heavy and heavy with chance of thunder and light ultra light and phantom. If I were in charge, I’d label the pads “stuck pig” and “CSI” and “paper cut”. Because everyone knows what that means.

But I’m not in charge, which is why the other day I bought a package that read “ultra thin”, which I assumed (incorrectly, it turns out) referred to body type. Confusingly the label also read “JUMBO” but I guessed (erroneously, what are the chances?) that it was a nod to the savvy consumer who wanted to get more maxi pad bang for her buck.

When I opened the pad, I knew I was in trouble. Mostly because it seemed like a scarf.

“Come here,” I called to my daughter because I absolutely refuse to suffer alone and in silence. Really, I have no idea how martyrs do it.

“Whoa!” she said. “What is that?”

“This is a maxi pad,” I explained. I’m really good at this “teaching moment” bullshit.

“Who is it for?” She was confused. And a little scared.

“Well, that’s sort of what I was wondering,” I confessed. “Who would wear this? This is not your mother’s vagina.”

“Let’s take a picture!” she suggested.

“That’s a great idea,” I applauded her initiative. “But let’s photograph it next to something, so people can see the scale! Like maybe a dime? What do you think?”

“How about a ruler?” she suggested. She’s so mathy.

And we did.

photo 36 225x300 Not Your Mothers Vagina

And then we got more scared.

“It’s over a foot long,” she said.

“There are Subway sandwiches smaller than that pad,” she said.

Which is an excellent point. Maybe Subway should consider a feminine hygiene product line.



by Marinka on July 2, 2014

I know I’ve been updating less than usual for a while and it’s taking its toll on me too. Obviously the fact that I decided not to write about my divorce is a factor (although please rest assured, it’s all very boring and amicable, no War of the Roses here. Not even War of the Carnations, so you’re not missing anything) but so is the new sense that I have to write profound things.

And I have no idea where that sense about writing profound things came from, although I’m starting to suspect a chemical imbalance/tumor situation. Obviously I hope not because that’s pretty much the last thing I need right now (well, after a French manicure) but I can’t explain it.

But if I’m not writing profound stuff, then this is what I’m writing:

1. My son turned 13 in June, which is completely crazy to me. I’m not one of those people who gets all “where did the time go?” (mostly because I have a calendar) but still, 13 is a big one. And spoiler alert: My daughter is about to turn 16 any day now which, and I’m not mathematician, is even bigger than 13. Good thing that I, myself, am holding steady at 25.

2. The other day Mama, who was at my apartment, called me all alarmed because she found “A lot of cash” in one of the kids’ room. “Where did all this cash come from?” she wanted to know. Now I don’t know what you imagine when you get such a phone call, but I immediately pictured a suitcase packed with hundred dollar bills, unmarked, preferably. And I started thinking about how I would spend it all, under the guardianship theory loosely translated as “all your shit is mine.” I was mid-way through shopping list 2.4, when I thought to ask for a rough estimate of the cash involved and learned that it was $12. Obviously I’m devastated that my kids are running a really low-profit meth lab.

3. I’ve had a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup every day this week. Mostly because they’re so delicious.
And then this happened:Screen Shot 2014 06 27 at 9.14.28 AM 300x141 Update ish

4. I am lucky to have a lot of love in my life. I’ve always been lucky, but I’m feeling a bit luckier now. It’s one of those things that I’m hesitant to write about because I’m afraid of jinxing it (and because I’m a lady) but let me say this and let you read between the lines. I recently had a weekend that I wish on absolutely everyone that I love. There was so much love and laughter that my stomach hurt. Literally hurt, like some kind of an ab workout. And even though I don’t have abs of steel as a result, my stomach now has laugh lines. I’ll take it.

I am going to figure out how to continue to write this blog during this new phase of my life. It’s trickier, of course, but I miss the daily writing. Who knows. Maybe it’ll even be something profound.


Things I Think About When I Can’t Sleep

June 3, 2014

I love Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah but I have to be in just the right mood to listen to it. Sometimes I’m too fragile for it. And I don’t know what kind of secret chord David has although I’m definitely glad the Lord is pleased with it. Oh and you know what’s weird? Why is he […]

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No Comment

May 26, 2014

It took me a while, but finally I realized that the comments section on this blog is broken. At first when I saw zero comments on post after post I thought, “huh, no one is commenting!” and while that would make some bloggers despondent, I just took it to mean that everyone agreed with my […]

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What’s In a Name?

May 20, 2014

Recently I decided to kill both of our cats with my bare hands. Oh, you didn’t know that we had two cats now? Well, of course you know Nicki, the striped goddess that we love and adore. Nicki has been with us forever, ever since that moment when the kids begged and pleaded and promised […]

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April 16, 2014

I’m in Rome. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I thought if I did, you’d get all clingy and start dropping hints about how you love Rome/always wanted to go and/or have a Prada purse. So I took the easy way out and snuck out behind your back, without alerting you. And there’s nothing […]

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Helter Skelter

February 17, 2014

My son was unloading the dishwasher, under protest and duress, obviously. “Hey, can you sort the silverware more carefully,” I reminded him as he threw the forks and spoons around. “Not so Helter Skelter.” “What’s Helter Skelter?” he asked. “You know…Charles Manson..was listening to the Beatles Song? While he murdered people, I think.” “So I […]

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Better Red Than Not Talking About Heart Disease

February 13, 2014

Today is your lucky day, because today you get two posts for the price of one. First, I will tell you about a situation with my kids. And then, I will probably save your life. *** This week I received a gift. Actually it was a many gifts, and it arrived from Tieks, the people […]

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