First, Bitches: Geocaching

First, Bitches are a series of blogs about me discovering new things. They may not be new to you.

I recently noticed a friend on Facebook posting pics in an album called, “Geocaching.” I didn’t know what that was, but the pictures were all of rivers and trees so I figured it was a whole lotta something I wouldn’t be interested in. Then she posted more photos last night and my nosy ass decided to google “geocaching.”

I found the main site that describes it as:

Geocaching is a high-tech treasure hunting game played throughout the world by adventure seekers equipped with GPS devices. The basic idea is to locate hidden containers, called geocaches, outdoors and then share your experiences online. Geocaching is enjoyed by people from all age groups, with a strong sense of community and support for the environment.

The word “outdoors” immediately turned me off, but it was surpassed by words like “high-tech,” “treasure hunting,” and “GPS devices.” The competitive, amateur sleuth, with a gadget fetish in me was overjoyed.

I signed up for a free basic membership and read up on different types of caches. I did a search by zip code and was pleased to see that there were pages full of hidden treasures just waiting to be found. I woke Donny up to show him the site. He grumbled, rolled over, and went back to sleep. When he was awakened again a few hours later because I’d been hogging the covers I asked him, “Do you know what we’re doing tomorrow?”

Blank stare.

“Geocaching.”

Blank stare.

“Do you know what that is?”

“Treasure hunting?”

“So you were paying attention!”

We went to sleep.

I was so excited I woke up much earlier than I usually do on Sundays. I did some work and then over coffee, Donny and I tried downloading the necessary GPS apps to our phones. Two hours later I was ready to throw my phone, laptop, and Donny out the window. When we finally got our act together (or so we thought), we prepared to leave.

And then it started raining.

I took that opportunity to get more work done while Donny read up on Geocaching. When the rain stopped, we headed to the first cache at a park two minutes away. We stopped for fast food and ate in the park’s parking lot. And while we ate the sky opened up. I was starting to think that me and geocaching weren’t meant to be. Donny said he thought the storm would pass quickly and despite having no reason to believe that he actually knew what he was talking about, I decided we’d wait it out. Thank the Lord for headrest TVs with a DVD player. The kids kept themselves busy with a movie while Donny and I played around on our smartphones.  After about 30 mins the rain let up considerably. We all donned zip up hoodies and took off in search of our first treasure.

One of the first things they tell you about geocaching is to look out for Muggles. Much like in the Harry Potter books, Muggles are people that don’t know what the fuck is going on. You want to search for the caches and replace them without letting the Muggles around know what you’re doing. The idea being that Muggles will fuck it up for everyone by moving things and being general pains in the ass.

Because of the weather there were, thankfully, not many Muggles around. We set off in the direction my phone’s GPS said to go, jumping over puddles and stepping in mud. I regretted wearing my new $100 sneakers, but it was too late to do anything about it. I took solace in the fact that the hoodie was protecting my new $140 hairdo.

When we got to the designated spot, we began to search the area; we kicked around leaves, twigs, and rocks, we looked up into the trees in case the canister was tied to a low branch, and we checked all around light posts. Nothing. The GPS wasn’t very helpful as once we got close to the coordinates the needle started spinning all willy-nilly. We were miserable.

We decided to go to Best Buy and buy a real GPS. I figured we’d buy one for the car, one that we could also carry around for cache hunts. I figured wrong as the Best Buy associate explained that for geocaching you’d need a handheld that has geocaching built in. The prices were too high for something I wasn’t even sure I’d enjoy yet. We went home.

While I worked again, Donny did some research and found a handheld GPS device exclusively for geocaching for $199, but reminded me that we had a shitload of reward certificates for Best Buy. He ordered it online and went to pick it up. It cost us $80. We logged back in to our geocache account and pulled up a bunch of caches in our area. We read the descriptions and other helpful hints posted by the people who hid them and people who’d previously went looking for them – sometimes successful, sometimes not. With the GPS plugged into my laptop it was as simple as clicking “send to my GPS” when we found caches that appealed to us. We loaded a few and left again.

People try to get pretty creative in the containers they use to hide the cache. The first one we attempted kept hinting at “nut” in the description so we figured the container might be a fake nut of some kind. It was located at an intersection that can be pretty busy sometimes, but not too bad on a Sunday late afternoon. It was also located, if the GPS was to be believed, down a ditch in front of a private residence. Jack and Donny waited in the car while Kali and I stepped over a guardrail to find it. Crickets leaped at our ankles and I felt like things were crawling on my neck. After a few minutes, Donny and Jack joined us. It was pretty clear that the GPS was directing us down the ditch and it was very steep. Also, the whole “in front of someone’s house” thing made me afraid. I was pretty sure Muggles don’t play that. I pulled up more information on the cache and when I saw, “Beware of ticks,” I called a big fat, “let’s get the fuck outta here” on the whole operation.

We got back in the car and loaded up the next cache. It turns out it was in the parking lot of a supermarket strip mall near our house. The GPS seemed to point us smackdab in front of a light post. That area of the parking lot was completely empty. I stayed in the car with Jack while Donny and Kali got out to investigate. There was a Muggle on a skateboard nearby, looking at us curiously. He got bored after a few moments and looked away. Whew!

After a couple of circles around the post, I saw Donny lift up the base around the pole. “Did you find it?” He nodded. I told him to bring it to the car. They got back in the car and I locked the doors. I don’t know why I was all Deep Throat about the whole operation, it just felt like the right thing to do.

Some caches have items in containers that you are welcome to take, but it’s proper etiquette to then leave items of equal or greater value in return. Some just have a log for you to sign. This one was a log only and it was pretty neat seeing the names and dates of the people that came before us. That cache had been there for almost three years!

We signed the log and then Donny returned the stash. We decided to sign it with our last name, the date, and then I threw in two little stars ’cause I’m a fucking girl. Sue me. We’ll use that until we come up with a badass geocache team name. We headed to our third location.

Because of the name and description we figured it was in a park with ducks, beavers, and other wildlife nearby. My city slicker, me-no-like-animals ass completely blocked all of that info out due to being so high off our first find. We figured out we needed to park at a dead-end with a big ass “no parking after 6pm” sign… it was after 6pm… to get to the next cache. Since Donny and Kali had gotten out and found the last one, Donny said that I should go with Kali this time, but warned that we should hurry cause if the po-po came, he was going to leave us. That’s how he rolls.

Kali and I started off, me carrying the GPS. We walked down a trail with woods to our right and trees that backed up into a lake on our left. The lake looked dirty and lonely. Ahead of us I could make out a brown bridge. It looked sinister. I started thinking, “This is where the white folks die in movies. What the fuck am I doing out here with my baby?” At the foot of the bridge I stopped.

“Kali, maybe we should go back.”

“Noooo, this one has treasure. I want to see what’s in there!”

Just then I heard a branch snap to our right. I’d seen enough movies to know this is usually the appetizer to a dismemberment entree.

“Come on, Mommy!”

We stepped on to the bridge. It didn’t cross water, just more dirt, so I suspect it was just for show. It felt reliable enough, but the sounds of our footsteps on the wood gave me the heebie jeebies. At the other end, I stopped once more.

“I don’t think I want to do this.”

“COME ON!”

I think it’s safe to say that this was my daughter’s white half kicking in. I’m sure her black half was yelling, “RUN, girl, RUN!” She’d apparently tuned that half out. According to the GPS we had to hook a left though we didn’t need it to tell us that – directly in front of us and to our right was thick woods, the path continued to the left only.

As we turned left, I looked ahead at what was waiting for us. I didn’t like what I saw.

We kept walking with me checking the GPS every few seconds. We were 80 feet away. I’d already decided that should a rapist, mountain lion and/or deer appear, I would yell for Kali to run for her life, back to her Daddy, brother and safety, and I’d go down fighting like a true Brooklyn bitch. Cause that’s how I roll.

When we got to the point where the cache should have been 6 feet away, I stopped walking. I turned in a complete circle, taking in everything around me. I was looking for anything out of place, a color that didn’t belong. I wanted to make sure we were alone before I dropped my guard to look for the container.

I was sure we were alone, but just in case I dialed Donny’s cell with my own, put it on speaker and handed it to Kali. I told him we were looking, but I was too freaked to concentrate. After I minute, I decided I was heading back and he’d have to come do it. When I got to the bridge, I could see Donny and Jack outside the car. I waved that he should come to us. He and Jack met us at the bridge and the four of us made our way back to the cache site.

Donny spotted it within ten seconds, a few feet up an embankment, resting against a tree, covered with leaves.

“You know, I’m sure I’d have found it quickly too, but I was distracted by all the bricks I was shitting.”

I didn’t want to fuck around looking at the loot in the woods and I didn’t like leaving the car unattended so we practically ran back to the car.

This cache had a lot of little toys and knick knacks. We took a toy of plastic hands that clapped when you shook it for Jack and deposited a big, hot pink, die in its place.  (Donny made it back safely and we headed to our fourth location).

This one cleverly had “PUBLIX ENEMY” in the name and we could tell by the location marker that it was very near the Kroger supermarket near our house. (Publix is another supermarket chain). We also knew that the person who hid the cache had left a simple two-letter hint that when decoded, revealed LP. I figured it stood for “light post.” Also, someone who had quickly found the cache left a comment that they had to wait to replace it because a Muggle parked his truck near the hiding spot. It turned out it was in a light post behind the Kroger where the deliveries are made.

I hopped out and looked around. Much like the first one we found, the base lifted and out rolled an old film container. I grabbed it and hopped back in the car. This one had a tiny scroll of paper inside a little ziploc bag. Sure enough, when it was time to put it back, a Muggle truck driver came out to move his truck. While he was trying to do that, and his back was turned, I jumped out and returned the cache.

We gave the first one from earlier that day – in the park – another attempt, but still couldn’t find it. According to the log online, someone just found it 7 days ago. We wondered if it had been muggled in the meantime. Damn Muggles!

We had so much fun doing this as a family. I’m grateful to my friend Cathy for bringing it to my attention and that GPS was worth every cent of the 80 bucks we spent on it. It was so much more reliable than the program in our phones and easier to use. When we found a cache we could mark it as found and leave comments about our experience straight from the device.

As we get better at it, and maybe on some days when it’s just Donny and I, we’ll attempt harder ones with more rugged terrain. The caches are identified by their difficulty level in both finding the cache and the terrain you’ll have to cover to get there. There are also multi-caches where the first coordinates lead you to one cache which provides a clue to the GPS coordinates for another location and so on. And there are many that have puzzles you have to solve before you leave the house. Once you solve the puzzles, they reveal the coordinates which you can then load into your GPS and go hunting like normal. We’re going to try those next weekend. Some of the puzzles look pretty easy, but we found a local geocachers that has dozens all around our area and her puzzles are challenging. We can’t wait to try those!

If you think you might like to try it, I’d love to hear about it. We’re thinking we may start hiding some of our own caches with items specifically for people people with children. It really is a fun family activity.

First, Bitches: The Diva Cup, Part 2

To read part one, click here.

The Dry Run

There wasn’t one!

I’d planned on trying to insert the cup a few days before I got my period. I figured when things were good and flowy wouldn’t make the best time to start messing around down there. I was expecting my period around May 9th (a Sunday) so on Tuesday the 4th, I thought I had time.

I was wrong.

As I sat watching Lost, I started to feel really crampy. I thought, “Son of a bitch!” I went to the bathroom, and sure enough there was slight spotting.

But before I get into details, let’s talk about…

The Cup

The cup was bigger than I thought it would be and even though I’ve pushed two babies out of my vagina, I was still a little intimidated. When you get to a certain age, you’re used to putting things of a certain shape and size in your vagina. But depending on what kind of birth control you’ve used, a cup ain’t one of ‘em. I took pics of the Diva Cup next to some random items so you’d get an idea of the size.

And this next item is how I know a man came up with this.

That’s right. That’s a Diva lapel pin. The only reason I can see for wearing one of these is to warn other people (men) that you are indeed on the rag … er … cup and to stay far, far, away.

DAY ONE

So, after Lost, I go into the bathroom with the cup and directions. The directions are pretty simple: squeeze it, fold it and put it in your vagina then turn it and go.

You can stand or sit over the toilet. I chose to sit over the toilet for obvious reasons. I relaxed like the directions said and chose one of the two recommended folds to insert it. I made my decision based on the fact that it was the only one I could somewhat understand from the diagram provided.

Apparently I didn’t relax enough because the first go round was awkward and somewhat painful. I pulled the cup out and was greeted with the most awful sound. It was wet and suction-y and just … gross. Like when you’re trying to squeeze ketchup out of a bottle.It was the mother of all queefs. I laughed for three solid minutes then washed my hands, the cup, and tried again.

Second time was the charm because my vagina is awesome.  Here’s a video I made to explain the insertion process…

I will say that by the time I was done, it looked like that scene at the end of Carrie at the prom.

DAY TWO

I slept in it and woke up super nervous. I’d worn a pad too, just in case. Before I woke Kali up for school I went to the bathroom to check. The pad was clear which was a good sign. I reached to take the cup out and… couldn’t. fucking. find. it.

I panicked. I thought, “Oh my God! I have to call Donny and have him come from work so he can find this damn cup and pull it out!” Because my only other option was the emergency room and I could just see it…

“Doc, my cavernous vagina ATE the Diva Cup! Perhaps they should have a Diva Cup 3 for vaginas that don’t know how to act!”

I called Sophie. She told me to sit on the toilet, relax, and push like I was having a baby while feeling for the stem. Once I felt the stem, she said I should continue to push and gently pull on the stem until I got a firm grip on the cup. I’m pretty sure I ruined her breakfast.

I couldn’t try it then because I had to wake Kali up and get her off to the school bus. The whole time I was helping her get ready, all I could think about was the fact that I couldn’t find the Diva Cup. I knew that under normal circumstances, Donny would have no problem leaving work early to come home and play with my vagina. But these weren’t normal circumstances.

Once Kali was gone, I did as Sophie instructed and felt around and felt around and felt around until I was pretty sure I had violated myself. When I finally felt the stem, I did the baby push thing. I remembered what she’d warned about not pulling it out by the stem or else you’d spill. I firmly gripped the bottom of the cup, pushed, pulled and it was out! I took a few deep breaths before looking at the cup which I was holding in one hand between my knees.

There wasn’t a lot of blood in the cup which surprised me. There was, however, a nice long string of thick, snot-like, blood hanging from the cup. I almost threw up in the tub. It reminded me of the sugary icing on a Cinnabon. Hey! Don’t look at me like that. You shouldn’t be eating that shit anyway.

There were a few times during the day when I had to keep checking it and reinserting it. It didn’t hurt, but for some reason on day two it made me feel like I had to pee… constantly. I’d go the bathroom and try and nothing, but the feeling remained. VERY annoying.

DAY THREE

On day three I had issues keeping the damn thing open. It kept wanting to go in correctly, but then kinda fold like a taco. After taking it out, washing it, and reinserting it a few times, I decided to take a short break from the cup. (Not to mention there was an unfortunate and hilarious poop incident.)

I went without it for a few hours and later I decided against it for overnight.

DAY FOUR

We went out for Donny’s birthday and that was going to be the real test. How convenient is it when you’re out and about? If you have to use a public restroom, are you comfortable washing it out in the sink in front of strangers? Well, I can’t really answer that for me because I wasn’t out long enough to require a dumping.

Until you know for sure how you’d handle it, I’d suggest making sure you have the carrying bag and a backup tampon or something in your purse. If you have to remove it in a public restroom, but don’t think you’re up to cleaning it in public, you can just store it in the bag (after dumping the contents in the toilet) and wash it and the bag at home.

While I was out I enjoyed the same comfort as when I wore tampons, but there was the added bonus of having a reusable product that wouldn’t cost me money every month.

TIPS:

• If you’re squeamish about touching yourself “down there” and “in there,” then this isn’t for you.
• I suggest using this in YOUR bathroom at home. Not the guest bathroom or the kids’ bathroom. No matter how careful you are, you will get blood in places you shouldn’t. And you won’t notice it till like a week later when you’re sitting on the toilet and spot blood on the towel rack.
• Things can get bloody. It will look like a scene off CSI. I’m not kidding. On day two I kept waiting for David Caruso to strut into my bathroom, pull down his sunglasses and deliver a corny pun.

THE VERDICT:

I definitely don’t regret my purchase. The plan is to use it again, with the occasional tampon until they run out. It may take you a cycle or two to get the hang of it. If the reasons behind using it are important to you, you’ll stick it out.

If you decide to use it, let me know how it goes. Drop me a line and I’ll share it with my readers: nina@blogitoutb.com

First, Bitches: The Diva Cup, Part 1

A few years ago, I used to write this blog on Myspace. When it first started to get really popular, it became a sort of badge of honor to leave the first comment. The person quick enough to leave it would simply post, “FIRST!” Then, one day, one of my readers – excited to be first for the first time, posted, “FIRST, BITCHES!” as a way to taunt the other readers.

And that is how “first, bitches” was born. It was a trend that seemed to annoy a lot of people, but I didn’t mind. You can’t really knock people when they’re showing up every day, most times several times a day, to read your random thoughts.

Well, I’ve brought it over here, but it’s not what you think. First, Bitches is a new regular feature in which I’ll write about my experiences with a product, food, gadget, recipe, etc. that is new to me. That’s the key. All too often I’ll find myself totally enamored with something that has already jumped the shark with the rest of the world. (See: using phrases like “jumped the shark.”)

My first review required that I post this in two separate blogs. The first part today, the next one in a few weeks. You’ll see why in a bit. So, without further ado…

The Back Story:

My best friend, Sophie, told me a pretty embarrassing and funny story a few months ago. She and her husband realized they were having a plumbing problem and called in a  professional. The guy investigated their pipes and was outside telling her husband his findings when a nosy neighbor decided to join the mix.

So, he tells her husband (and the nosy guy from across the street), “Your problem is white mice.”

“White mice?”

“Yeah. I see it all.the.time.”

And the plumber proceeds to hold up one used tampon by it’s “tail.”

I will give you a moment to hurl.

You back yet? All better?

Apparently, this is a common problem which surprised me because they live in Jersey and if there’s one place you don’t expect to find pussy pipes, it’s Jersey!

Flash forward a few weeks and Sophie and I are on the phone and she starts telling me about a diva cup. My ears perk up as they do whenever I hear the word diva, seeing as how I’m so fabulous. Then they quickly un-perked and threw up in their mouths when she explained it was a cup you insert in your vagina to collect the blood when you have your period.

Go ahead and hurl again. I’ll wait.

She goes on to explain the financial and environmental benefits of using such a product. I, being a snarky bitch, shot down every sound reason with, “It’s gross!”

Flash forward even more to mid-April and I’m trying to find something to purchase on Amazon.com to go along with my friend’s book. I wanted the free shipping and I figured if I was going to spend more money anyway, I might as well spend it on something tangible. Something I could use. Little did I realize I’d settle on something I could put in my vagina. For out of the blue I suddenly decided to look up “The Diva Cup.”

The DivaCup is a non-absorbent menstrual cup that simply collects menstrual flow. It is inserted in the vagina and sits at the lower base of the vaginal canal. It is worn internally, yet because it is soft and smooth, it cannot be felt nor will it leak when inserted properly.

That doesn’t sound so bad, right?

I decided to get it. I thought, “I’ll spend $20+ now, and not have to worry about buying tampons or pantyliners ever again.” Also, there’s the whole environmental impact, but I was kinda less concerned about that. I did a search on Amazon and discovered there were two versions: Diva Cup 1 and Diva Cup 2. I clicked on 1 to see what the difference was.

Diva Cup 1 – For pre-childbirth or women under 30.

Diva Cup 2 – For women who’ve given birth naturally or via c-section or women over 30.

Well, damn. Why not just call it the stretched out version?

(I put number 2 in my shopping cart.)

And I actually got excited about using it.

The Reaction:

I called Donny at work.

“I just bought a Diva Cup!’

“What’s that?”

“It’s a cup you insert in your vagina when you have your period so you don’t have to use tampons or pads.”

“That’s gross.”

I called my Mom.

“I just bought a Diva Cup!”

“What the hell is a Diva Cup?”

“It’s a cup you put in your vagina when you have your period so you don’t have to buy tampons or pads.”

“Oh fuck that.”

“What?! I’ll save money and help the environment… though, I’m kinda less concerned about that part.”

“I’m not sticking a cup up my ass.”

“It doesn’t go up your ass!”

“And how big is this thing?”

“I don’t know. How big could it possibly be?”

More Donny reaction as we’re driving in the car…

“I can’t wait to get my Diva Cup! I’m sure there’s a learning curve to inserting it and stuff, but I’m excited to try it.”

“That’s gross.”

“You keep saying that. How is it gross?”

“Cause you have to stick your fingers up there and pull it out.”

“First of all, any other time you hear about a woman sticking her fingers in her vagina, you wouldn’t care. Second of all, it has a stem on it just like a tampon has a string.”

“I don’t know. I keep picturing a shot glass of blood and…”

He shudders.

“Oh, shut up.”

Well, it arrived the other day and…

… it’s a lot bigger than I thought.

To be continued…