(if you already read the intro about IC, check out today's thoughts underneath the row of pretty pretty stars)

I thought it would be cool to document teh life of a chick who's got the girlie-disease "interstitial cystitis."
A lotta people don't know what I.C. is so here goes: incurable tiny ulcers inside the wall of your bladder make it hard to walk, exercise, eat, drink, fuck, dance, breathe, smell flowers, blah blah blah.

The thing is? I have this disease and i'm still kickin' ass.
And other for-real chicks that have bullshit going on with their bodies can relate.

No matter what our mutherfucking misogynistic doctors, sadistic nurses, well-meaning family members, and uninformed aquaintances say, we are awesome, and we can do a good job of taking care of ourselves, thankyouverymuch.
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Have you ever known someone who makes you think "and I thought I was dumb?" My therapist's brilliant observations on life actually made me laugh outloud at her the last time I was there. She is one of those girls that wears makeup that they think looks "natural", but really it just makes her look grey. And she does this terrible thing with her mouth: she draws her bottom lip over her bottom teeth and captures a bubble of air between them and pops the bubble. She pops one of those bubbles at a rate of, I'd say, two per sentence. She interrupts me. She interrupts me to give me advice. She reschedules all the time. She's late. She's always acting so official and giving me homework, but she completely forgets what she assigned by the time the next session rolls around. Whenever I talk about what I do in school she gets completely intimidated and changes the subject, saying "wow, I mean, wow, you are so accomplished." She spends most of the session talking about herself and pressuring me to get a dog because she wants a dog.



Yet talking to her is one of the only things that makes me feel better.