Tuesday, July 5, 2011

I GOTTA PEE..

I am a frequent pee-er (there is not a better way to spell it- first I tried peer, but that means something else). Oh how I wish I could blame this on my 2 pregnancies and incredibly painful deliveries. Alas, I cannot. As far back as I can remember I've been searching for the bathroom wherever I go. In high school there was no time for chit chat between classes. I had a route that included my locker and a bathroom between every class. I didn't have to go between all my classes every day, but I had the route mapped out just in case. In college I knew where the bathroom was in every building regardless of if I'd ever had a class there. I get up every night to pee. Almost always more than once. If I only had to get up once during the night, then I'm probably bloated. I have had countless dreams where I am searching for a bathroom. Searching and searching and searching.... sometimes in a dream I actually find the bathroom, drop trow, sit down, get ready, get set, and CANNOT GO. This is a good thing, because while it's annoying to not be able to go in the dream and wake up ready to burst and running to the bathroom, it would be so much more annoying to wet the bed! Scott would probably want to go all 'I Love Lucy' and get twin beds or more likely 2 queens cuz despite the fact that he was 6'2" and still sleeping in a twin bed in high school he really does not actually fit on one. But, hopefully, I am years away from regressing to bed wetting and having to rock the Depends.

I have peed in some disgusting bathrooms and port-o-potties under the heading of 'beggars can't be choosers'. I have strong quads and have perfected the hoover. I have peed in the woods, in orchards, vineyards, you name it. I grew up in the central valley of CA. Our little town was surrounded by farms of various sorts. During high school there was many a Saturday night when the plan was meet at the canal, the Smith orchard, or the Jones property to hang out and party. And by party I absolutely do not mean there was a keg and/or copious amounts of wine coolers. We of course were drinking pop and having serious mind blowing discourse. Re-read that! I didn't say mind blowing intercourse- discourse people- discussion, verbal exchange, a conversation if you will. At some point during this high minded, soda drinking soiree, I would of course have to pee. One of my friends and I perfected the hold each others hands double squat move thus both simultaneously peeing and holding each other up. It was genius!

Soooo, this morning at 4:37am it was no surprise that I had to haul myself out of bed to go pee. The suckish thing was that my alarm was set for 5:10am. When I see the time, I'm pissed. I will never go back to sleep in that amount of time. I will lay there thinking about how I have to get up in 33 minutes, 30 minutes, 28 minutes, 22 minutes... thanks bladder! I lay back down thinking it's a good idea to try and lay peacefully until I have to get up, mostly because although when I get up at 5:10am I try really hard not to wake Scott, sometimes inexplicably I do and then he can't go back to sleep and that sucks for him and I feel bad and there is no need for him to be up at 4:37am. He doesn't need to be punished just because his kidneys aren't as efficient as mine. Anyhow, I get comfy totally prepared to look at my iphone to see what time it is every 2 minutes and  I start composing this post in my head. Then in a truly shocking turn of events I go back to sleep. At least I think that's what happened based on the fact that all of a sudden the alarm was going off and I was sitting up thinking "what the fuck? I'm up. I'm up!" I couldn't of been asleep for very long because I remember thinking peeing blog thoughts for a little bit. However long it takes to get settled into a nice deep sleep, that's how long I was out. Fuck me! 

I could go on and on regaling you with tales of my full bladder like the time on a high school trip in France when I was on a tour boat sans bathroom and I thought my bladder was going to burst, or how my 5 y/o has announced loudly on our way to find a public bathroom, "mommy do you have to pee again because of all the coffee you drank this morning?" (I do love my coffee which is a possibly related yet completely different issue.) or how Scott factors my pee stops into our travel time, but I can't tell you now because....I gotta go pee. 

Peace & love :-).


4 comments:

  1. i hear ya' sister...during my poser-bohemian-post-college-grad backpack trip around europe i can tell you which countries had the most accessible and cleanest bathrooms (london), which were most expensive (italy), and the overall most disgusting (the greek stand-up toliets, talk about beggars can't be choosers)... maybe you and i should write a related travel blog ;)

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  2. I'm in Sharpie Fine Girl. We could call it 'Peeing Across America' although I don't want to limit it to just the US. 'World Peeing'? 'Traveling & Trow Dropping'?- that sort of makes us sound like sluts though...

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  3. OMG girl, we may be related. I am a fine, fiiine pee-er myself. I have peed in out houses, holes in the ground, on bushes, and one memorable time, on a possum. I'm all about peeing. Of course, most of MY high school peeing in the central valley included alcohol, but that's a different story. (Enter possum...) Hilarious!!

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  4. Thanks Killer Cupcake. I'd love to her more about the possum! And there might have been a couple times when someone switched out my soda for wine coolers :-). Totally not my fault though!

    Speaking of peeing. I laughed so hard I almost peed myself when I read your Dear Ambien blog and also the one about your shredded swimsuit/the couch stabbing you in the ass with a knife.

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