march tenth. spring of 'fifteen i was involved with a douchebag from whom i contracted hpv, only i didn't learn that's what it was until september of 'sixteen. i spent two years thinking i'd fucked up my life for no good reason. april: gynecologist said i had zits (i've never had zits. in. my. life), failed to provide results from well woman exam; may: general practitioner said it was herpes, prescribed meds but failed to test; july: clinic tested me for hiv and two other sti's, the results of which were negative, and suggested additional testing at another clinic for two other sti's, one being herpes... both of which were negative; january: the second clinic said i had contact dermatitis; october: well woman at first clinic, hpv diagnosis; march: second well woman exam on the sixth; ALL FUCKING CLEAR given march tenth. i'd never been so scared in my life, yall. it wasn't all the clinics... it was that during all of this, i was livid with myself for letting that asshat matter this much and feeling powerless to stop it. i'm positive that's more than yall want to read on a what's new post, but that all clear... yall, that's better than ANY orgasm. sorry, but it is.
march fifteenth. i got a note in the mail from a GORGEOUS woman i'd interviewed for an article i'd written last july. what she wrote is as beautiful to me as she is.
march sixteenth through twenty-third. fairly uneventful in the grand scheme of things but a fine, fine week in my life nonetheless.
and then this happened...
march twenty-fourth. i learned the monastery at which my great uncle has resided for sixty some odd years is closing. i am heartbroken.
march twenty-eighth. the first of tuesday topics posts, a series i began hosting solo. it was once hosted by lauren and another blogger, and then lauren and i did a batch. and then she gave me the blessing to run with it on my own. i'm a little nervous. yall can still sign on for that topic, if you'd like. or if you'd rather, this week's topic is stories about baseball.
march twenty-ninth. my birthday. forty-fucking-four. ugh. (all the crap from the first of this post... i felt like a damned teenager writing it, which is another reason why i was so mad at myself... my parents raised me to be smarter than that.) i wrote this letter to myself. i wish i'd thought of the idea, but i stole it from lecy.
march thirtieth. this month's book club meeting doubled as a birthday party for me. we read and discussed the language of flowers, a book i'd suggested. i reread it so i could refresh my memory, and i'm so glad i did. i liked it a lot the first time i'd read it. i LOVE it now.
march thirty-first. i almost completed the entirety of the month's scavenger hunt... i put it off to the last minute, like i've done with basically everything in my life. i'm bummed that i didn't get it all done, but that's what i get for procrastinating. i've already got one of the tasks done for this month's hunt.