Diva Cup part 2
Diva Cup Story Part 2
You might be saying to yourself, “Really, a part 2? Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time?” Well, clearly the answer is no.
Kelly Grant, the most amazing girl in the universe, convinced me that once I figure out how to easily insert and remove the little rubber cup (that should be one of the wonders of the world) I would swear by its powers and never go back to dirty cotton wads that women shove inside of their self to suck up all of the menstrual fluid and natural moisture and anything else that is holy in your uterus.
Well, when someone puts it that way you just gotta give it a second chance.
I put in the Diva Cup for another go at it and I must say, when it is inside of you it feels great. It forms to fit you perfectly, it really does seem to reduce cramps and I can cough and laugh without the fear of leakage. (or so I thought)
When I got home from work I had that same problem of taking it out as I did the day before. I thought I would just hop in the shower like last time and play another game of tug-o-war with myself until it eventually pops out. But this time I inserted the cup a little crooked and it was harder to get a grip of the stem. I am not going into detail of my shower war and if you want to know what it was like for me to try and get the little fucker out in the shower you can read my original story. Just know that this time I could not get the diva cup out. I couldn’t break the suction seal so it was real good and stuck up inside of me.
My roommate starts having a panic attack (and I am not making this up to make my story seem funnier) as I tell her she will most likely need to help me get it out. She swears there has to be other things for me to do that can get it out without the help of her small hands that can easily fit up inside of me to grab it. “I tried everything Jenn, I used the rubber glove, the pushing technique, the squatting technique, and the water from the shower head! I don’t know what to do!” …Jenn tells me she is going to the store to get me some lube.
As she is gone I remember the story that Kelly Grant told me about her roommate in Denmark that had to lay down to get hers out. Ugh. Okay. Here we go. I get a towel and place it on my bed. I lay down with my knees up and start to push like I am the Duggar mom giving birth to my 28th child. I easily feel the stem of the diva cup start to come out and I can pinch the sides of the cup to release the suction. It easily pops out.
Whoa. Really? That was it? I am so excited. I have mastered the technique of getting the diva cup out. I take a picture of it on my phone and send it to my roommate so she knows she doesn’t have to help me get it out. I recently researched how blood acts as a fertilizer to plants so naturally I mix water with my menstrual fluid and pour it into my roommate’s herb garden without telling her. My roommate texts me back and says “DO NOT PUT THAT THING BACK INTO YOUR VAGINA EVER AGAIN!”
I call Kelly Grant and she convinces me to put it in again. Now that I know how to take it out, I am golden, right?
I figure because it was so easy to take out while laying down it has got to be just as easy to insert it laying down. I clean off the Diva Cup lay on my towel again and insert the cup fairly easy. It feels great. Life is wonderful and I feel like I am really starting to know a lot about how my vagina works and get a nice bond going with my girlfriend. (My girlfriend being another name for my vagina)
Jenn returns home and isn’t very thrilled that I have decided to put my diva cup back inside of me, but, she is ecstatic that she did not have to help me remove it or get me lube to get it out.
We have to leave for our two hour drive to Minneapolis to spend the weekend with friends. We drive along the highway listening to really horrible radio music and have lots of discussions, mostly about how much we hate P!NK and how every time we think they will stop playing one of her top 40 hits a new one comes out and the vicious cycle repeats itself all over again.
As we have girl talk I start laughing and then I get that gush in the pants feeling that you aren’t supposed to have with a diva cup. Uh oh! I think I may be leaking? Shit, when I inserted the diva cup laying down the suction cup must not have sealed up my vagina.
I ask Jenn what I should do, she tells me to check. I ask her how she would like me to check as we are driving … Jenn is lost for words so I stick my hand in my pants and pull it out. I scream. AHHHHHHHHH! It isn’t just a little blood, there is blood dripping down my fingers in full force. I have never even seen it this bad even with Kotex/Pads.
“OMG Jenn, LOOK!” I show her my hand and then I yell “OMG, I don’t know why I just showed you that, but you need to pull over!”
It seems to take a year to find an exit and the blood has started to dry all over my hand. I am mad for not having any napkins in my car and I am hoping that no one can see the blood stains through my pants.
We pull into a Holiday Gas Station and I give Jenn some money to buy me tampons and I ask her to meet me in the bathroom to give me the goods. It felt like a creepy drug deal or sex act was about to go down. I hobble my way in and I manage to go to every wrong corner of the building. I am forced to waddle on up to a worker to ask him where the bathrooms are. I am hoping that they have a private family bathroom, but of course they do not. Clearly, the heavens want to punish me for being a lesbian, so they make sure it is a multi person bathroom filled with women as I enter. It is already awkward and uncomfortable for me to enter public restrooms because of society assuming I am a 14 year old pubescent boy instead of a really fine ass adult dyke, but now I look like a confusing pubescent boy that just had a miscarriage, or even worse… A confusing fine ass adult dyke that just had a miscarriage.
I hang my head low and enter an empty stall. I take a deep breath and hope it won’t be too bad down there. I unzip my pants and lower my boxers. SHIT! Because I am not in tighty-whities or boxer briefs the blood just happens to be splattered all over the place. Why did I wear boxers today? I never wear regular boxers! I check my pants and of course the blood totally leaked through them. I start to wonder what to do, these are the only pants I brought on our trip. I go to take out my diva cup and of course with all that extra bloody lubrication that little fucker just slides on out. I empty the diva cup and wonder how there is any blood even left in the cup since it seems to have coated my underwear and pants so well. I take out lots of toilet paper and wipe off the diva cup. I make a pile of endless bloody rags in the toilet and flush them. I take off my boxers and pants and stand half naked in a stall hoping the other women don’t wonder what I am doing in there. I am cold, bloody, humiliated, and want to cry. I try dabbing off everything and I wait for Jenn to come save me.
Jenn enters the bathroom and passes me some tampons over the stall door. I am shocked. “Really Jenn, you got me CARDBOARD APLICATORS after all my cunt has been through this evening!?” Jenn replies, “Bitch, this aint no super mega store, this is a fucking gas station out in the middle of nowhere Wisconsin, you are lucky they even had this!”
Now, it may seem like I don’t appreciate my roommate/best friend… But the next thing I ask her to do makes me love her more than Lindsay Lohan loves to have cocaine addiction. In fact I think Jenn will have something really nice from me under the Christmas tree next year.
“Jennifer… I need to barrow a pair of your unds and I also need you to wash my pants out in the bathroom sink because I am not coming out wearing only a shirt and your panties to do it.”
Jennifer without skipping a beat, “Okay I’m on it!”
Wow, it was that easy, I thought I was going to have to really sweet talk her into doing it. Later she told me anything sounded great as long as she didn’t have to help me remove a diva cup in a gas station bathroom while women wonder wtf we are doing in the stall together.
Jenn brings me her unds which feel really nice to put on especially because my bare ass has been hanging out in the stall for what seems like an eternity.
We wait around until all the women have left the restroom and then Jenn hands me some sopping wet pants that she just got done washing over the stall door… “Jenn, people are going to think I wee’d all over myself if I come out in these.”
Jenn shouts “I GOT THIS!” and punches the hand dryer like she is a superhero with a master plan to save the day. I come out of the bathroom stall disheveled in my wet pants, I wash the dried blood off of my hands and rinse off the stupid diva cup. I walk over to the hand dryer and bend over trying to make sure it hits all the wet spots on my ass. The dryer keeps running out so I continually hit the button and use different yoga poses to make sure all the nooks and crannies start to dry off.
I have never hated life more than I do at this moment in time and all Jenn can do is laugh. She laughs and she laughs and then she starts gasping for air. We laugh at how pathetic I look and I make Jenn hold the door shut so no one can get in. It takes me about 10 minutes to get my pants to a reasonable amount of damp and she asks if we should sneak out the side door and walk the long way around the gas station so nobody notices my soggy wetish pants. I tell her that sounds like a beautiful plan and we escape unseen.
**NOTE** After we got back from our weekend in the twin cities Jenn noticed her herb garden seemed healthier and had lots of new sprouts appearing. Hehe
You might be saying to yourself, “Really, a part 2? Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time?” Well, clearly the answer is no.
Kelly Grant, the most amazing girl in the universe, convinced me that once I figure out how to easily insert and remove the little rubber cup (that should be one of the wonders of the world) I would swear by its powers and never go back to dirty cotton wads that women shove inside of their self to suck up all of the menstrual fluid and natural moisture and anything else that is holy in your uterus.
Well, when someone puts it that way you just gotta give it a second chance.
I put in the Diva Cup for another go at it and I must say, when it is inside of you it feels great. It forms to fit you perfectly, it really does seem to reduce cramps and I can cough and laugh without the fear of leakage. (or so I thought)
When I got home from work I had that same problem of taking it out as I did the day before. I thought I would just hop in the shower like last time and play another game of tug-o-war with myself until it eventually pops out. But this time I inserted the cup a little crooked and it was harder to get a grip of the stem. I am not going into detail of my shower war and if you want to know what it was like for me to try and get the little fucker out in the shower you can read my original story. Just know that this time I could not get the diva cup out. I couldn’t break the suction seal so it was real good and stuck up inside of me.
My roommate starts having a panic attack (and I am not making this up to make my story seem funnier) as I tell her she will most likely need to help me get it out. She swears there has to be other things for me to do that can get it out without the help of her small hands that can easily fit up inside of me to grab it. “I tried everything Jenn, I used the rubber glove, the pushing technique, the squatting technique, and the water from the shower head! I don’t know what to do!” …Jenn tells me she is going to the store to get me some lube.
As she is gone I remember the story that Kelly Grant told me about her roommate in Denmark that had to lay down to get hers out. Ugh. Okay. Here we go. I get a towel and place it on my bed. I lay down with my knees up and start to push like I am the Duggar mom giving birth to my 28th child. I easily feel the stem of the diva cup start to come out and I can pinch the sides of the cup to release the suction. It easily pops out.
Whoa. Really? That was it? I am so excited. I have mastered the technique of getting the diva cup out. I take a picture of it on my phone and send it to my roommate so she knows she doesn’t have to help me get it out. I recently researched how blood acts as a fertilizer to plants so naturally I mix water with my menstrual fluid and pour it into my roommate’s herb garden without telling her. My roommate texts me back and says “DO NOT PUT THAT THING BACK INTO YOUR VAGINA EVER AGAIN!”
I call Kelly Grant and she convinces me to put it in again. Now that I know how to take it out, I am golden, right?
I figure because it was so easy to take out while laying down it has got to be just as easy to insert it laying down. I clean off the Diva Cup lay on my towel again and insert the cup fairly easy. It feels great. Life is wonderful and I feel like I am really starting to know a lot about how my vagina works and get a nice bond going with my girlfriend. (My girlfriend being another name for my vagina)
Jenn returns home and isn’t very thrilled that I have decided to put my diva cup back inside of me, but, she is ecstatic that she did not have to help me remove it or get me lube to get it out.
We have to leave for our two hour drive to Minneapolis to spend the weekend with friends. We drive along the highway listening to really horrible radio music and have lots of discussions, mostly about how much we hate P!NK and how every time we think they will stop playing one of her top 40 hits a new one comes out and the vicious cycle repeats itself all over again.
As we have girl talk I start laughing and then I get that gush in the pants feeling that you aren’t supposed to have with a diva cup. Uh oh! I think I may be leaking? Shit, when I inserted the diva cup laying down the suction cup must not have sealed up my vagina.
I ask Jenn what I should do, she tells me to check. I ask her how she would like me to check as we are driving … Jenn is lost for words so I stick my hand in my pants and pull it out. I scream. AHHHHHHHHH! It isn’t just a little blood, there is blood dripping down my fingers in full force. I have never even seen it this bad even with Kotex/Pads.
“OMG Jenn, LOOK!” I show her my hand and then I yell “OMG, I don’t know why I just showed you that, but you need to pull over!”
It seems to take a year to find an exit and the blood has started to dry all over my hand. I am mad for not having any napkins in my car and I am hoping that no one can see the blood stains through my pants.
We pull into a Holiday Gas Station and I give Jenn some money to buy me tampons and I ask her to meet me in the bathroom to give me the goods. It felt like a creepy drug deal or sex act was about to go down. I hobble my way in and I manage to go to every wrong corner of the building. I am forced to waddle on up to a worker to ask him where the bathrooms are. I am hoping that they have a private family bathroom, but of course they do not. Clearly, the heavens want to punish me for being a lesbian, so they make sure it is a multi person bathroom filled with women as I enter. It is already awkward and uncomfortable for me to enter public restrooms because of society assuming I am a 14 year old pubescent boy instead of a really fine ass adult dyke, but now I look like a confusing pubescent boy that just had a miscarriage, or even worse… A confusing fine ass adult dyke that just had a miscarriage.
I hang my head low and enter an empty stall. I take a deep breath and hope it won’t be too bad down there. I unzip my pants and lower my boxers. SHIT! Because I am not in tighty-whities or boxer briefs the blood just happens to be splattered all over the place. Why did I wear boxers today? I never wear regular boxers! I check my pants and of course the blood totally leaked through them. I start to wonder what to do, these are the only pants I brought on our trip. I go to take out my diva cup and of course with all that extra bloody lubrication that little fucker just slides on out. I empty the diva cup and wonder how there is any blood even left in the cup since it seems to have coated my underwear and pants so well. I take out lots of toilet paper and wipe off the diva cup. I make a pile of endless bloody rags in the toilet and flush them. I take off my boxers and pants and stand half naked in a stall hoping the other women don’t wonder what I am doing in there. I am cold, bloody, humiliated, and want to cry. I try dabbing off everything and I wait for Jenn to come save me.
Jenn enters the bathroom and passes me some tampons over the stall door. I am shocked. “Really Jenn, you got me CARDBOARD APLICATORS after all my cunt has been through this evening!?” Jenn replies, “Bitch, this aint no super mega store, this is a fucking gas station out in the middle of nowhere Wisconsin, you are lucky they even had this!”
Now, it may seem like I don’t appreciate my roommate/best friend… But the next thing I ask her to do makes me love her more than Lindsay Lohan loves to have cocaine addiction. In fact I think Jenn will have something really nice from me under the Christmas tree next year.
“Jennifer… I need to barrow a pair of your unds and I also need you to wash my pants out in the bathroom sink because I am not coming out wearing only a shirt and your panties to do it.”
Jennifer without skipping a beat, “Okay I’m on it!”
Wow, it was that easy, I thought I was going to have to really sweet talk her into doing it. Later she told me anything sounded great as long as she didn’t have to help me remove a diva cup in a gas station bathroom while women wonder wtf we are doing in the stall together.
Jenn brings me her unds which feel really nice to put on especially because my bare ass has been hanging out in the stall for what seems like an eternity.
We wait around until all the women have left the restroom and then Jenn hands me some sopping wet pants that she just got done washing over the stall door… “Jenn, people are going to think I wee’d all over myself if I come out in these.”
Jenn shouts “I GOT THIS!” and punches the hand dryer like she is a superhero with a master plan to save the day. I come out of the bathroom stall disheveled in my wet pants, I wash the dried blood off of my hands and rinse off the stupid diva cup. I walk over to the hand dryer and bend over trying to make sure it hits all the wet spots on my ass. The dryer keeps running out so I continually hit the button and use different yoga poses to make sure all the nooks and crannies start to dry off.
I have never hated life more than I do at this moment in time and all Jenn can do is laugh. She laughs and she laughs and then she starts gasping for air. We laugh at how pathetic I look and I make Jenn hold the door shut so no one can get in. It takes me about 10 minutes to get my pants to a reasonable amount of damp and she asks if we should sneak out the side door and walk the long way around the gas station so nobody notices my soggy wetish pants. I tell her that sounds like a beautiful plan and we escape unseen.
**NOTE** After we got back from our weekend in the twin cities Jenn noticed her herb garden seemed healthier and had lots of new sprouts appearing. Hehe