Wherefore art thou undies?

I went to the doctor today to have a test done…okay, a pap smear. You know, it’s one of those things that women don’t like having done but we do it because death is a really bad alternative. It also makes me think not having sex would have been better as no pap smear test to be done but then you remember what having sex is like and you realise that sex is worth it. I then contemplated, as I do, why people want sex toys stuffed inside various orifices when I have this test done. Some things just aren't natural. Actually, I contemplate all sorts of stuff on a regular basis and not just at pap smear tests.

 

Anyway, I stripped off from the waist down and had it done and was left to put on my undies and shorts behind the curtain. The shorts I could find but not the undies. Huh? I looked everywhere in the cubicle I was in. Where had they gone? They weren’t in the bed or on the floor. It was quite the conundrum and had me wondering had I actually worn undies in? Hmmm, yes, I had. Okay, was I then losing my mind? I looked at where the bed was attached to the wall. No undies there. I then noticed a small space between the bed and the wall. As I peered over I could just see my undies at over an arms length down at the bottom of that space. I tried pulling the bed out. It was solidly attached. I tried to put my arm down the slight gap to reach them. It was a tight fit and bloody hard to get my arm out once in. I pondered what it would look like if the curtains had opened at that stage with me bare arsed and wiggling to pull my arm out. Not a good look. Once I had pulled my arm out I thought about the undies I had worn. They were nothing special – navy blue with pink lace. As I pulled on my shorts over my bare arse, I decided in years from now when they renovate someone will find the navy blue and pink lace undies and wonder what went on -  especially if there is more than one set of underwear found. Orgy in the Doc’s office? Ah, let ‘em wonder I say…   

No one wants to see me in my undies…

I was on Facebook, on the lovely Abigail Madison Chase’s page – she’s always interesting reading – and Abby had this article on it –

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2413678/Underwear-model-49-claims-work-looks-TOO-YOUNG.html

“A 49-year-old underwear model has accused the fashion industry of ageism as she says she can no longer get any work because she looks too young.”

Essentially, this chick was having a hissy fit about no one wanting to employ her as an underwear model because she’s 49. I have a confession to make - no one wants to see me in my undies and I’m 49 too. I know, it’s a shocker right? Anyway back to the other woman. I call bullshit on the fact that she thinks it’s because she looks too young. She doesn’t. She looks her age and I think that’s what’s shitting her off and the fact the she knows agencies are passing her up for newer bodies. That’s business. It’s their choice. I’m a realist and an avid defender of the rights of women but that fact is as women we may not like it but as we get older, bodies change and not everyone is going to want your body. Only those living in airy-fairy-dairy land don’t get that. They have to blame someone. The realists among us think ‘Ok, so I’ll choose another path and be so damn amazing at that.’ Its about attitude – whiner or survivor.  

Now I don’t give a crap what she looks like but when I read comments on Facebook like -  

“The lady in the article needs to have work done too if she wants to stay in the game..."

-it annoys the hell out of me. Women are so frigging hard on other women. No one ‘needs’ to have work done unless it’s for medical reasons. The most virulent discrimination women face is from other women.

Joggly bits…

So, at lunch, I was talking to a male friend about men wearing skirts. He said it was a good idea because in the extreme heat, wearing trousers, can be hot, confining and lead to ball shrinkage. Okay, he didn’t say ball shrinkage but something along the lines of joggly bits and pieces getting all hot and bothered but not in a good way. That got us talking about kilts. He thought this was a good solution. Yes, but when kilts were actually in their hey-day, when people like my Scottish ancestors were running amok around the Highlands (Wick, Caithness) they didn’t wear undies. He didn’t see this is a concern as men, as you know, are happy to go naked and let things hang out. I then said ‘yeah but what about going into battle, running over hills and rocks, and fighting knowing your joggly bits are indeed joggling all over the place and not contained by undies?' Yes, this would present a problem. Solution? Possibly wear a kilt but don’t run or jump in it. If you get into a fight while wearing one? Maybe have a five minute cease fire to put undies on then fight.    

What women know....

1. 

   
   

   Lady-like etiquette says you cannot wander around in your undies all morning. Woman reality is you can and shut up.