Tuesday, January 19, 2010
The Crimson Tide
Yes.......that is a cloth sanitary pad :) Why is it so cute? I mean really. Who will see this besides you and the inside of your undies? Not to mention.......how long will it stay this cute? Which then begs the question....do you REALLY want to clean and reuse?
Maimy and I contemplate this question and others like it as we sit bleary eyed with fatigue, angry for no good reason, having wept greater than 5 times in a twelve hour period. As we write, we also consume an extra large BK fry, an extra large BK Coke, rest our elbows on what appears to be a four month pregnant pooch (in reality an amazing amount of bloat), try to reach around our tender lady lumps, and mindlessly scratch at our deteriorating skin condition.
Ah, the joys of womanhood. Brought to you directly from the two miniscule ovaries smack dab in your pelvis. How is it that two little balls of power, each under two freaking inches, can run (or is it ruin?) your life from the time you are thirteen? Every day, every week, these two little puppies can make you happy, sad, angry, hungry, bloated, hot for a handsome man, vindictive, demonically posessed, giddy, thin, weepy, and give you cravings Gandhi couldn't have fought?
Week #1 The Crimson Tide, aka The Red Witch, Aunty Flo, My Visitor, Bloody Mary, Riding the Cotton Pony.....etc.
Pull out the ugly panties girls. Stay close to the potty and open your baby name books for those clots large enough to qualify for a name. Don't forget the mind bending cramps. Who among us doesn't live for this week?
Week #2 The Thin Week
This is the week where your skin looks decent, your hair isn't greasy, your bloat has shed and that spare tire and full on banana nut muffin sitting on your hips are a shadow of what they will become in the weeks ahead. You finally love your man and don't want to rip off his arms and blugeon him with them. This chicks, is the week we live for.
Week #3 Ovulation Celebration
Ah, finally the shooting pains and semi uncomfortable cramps that signal your fertility is at its max. Unfortunately your tender pelvic region makes er......fertilizing painful in certain circumstances (read positions). Dang those little balls of egg. They never give up. Week #2 is really just there to taunt you.
Week #4 The Depths of Hell, Crossing the River Styx, PMS or for you sorry sisters PMDD.
This is where Maimy and I sit right now. We were wondering if we suffer from PMS or the more sinister ugly sister........PMDD. It is normal during this week to have varying degrees of cravings, salty and sweet. Generally the cravings take over the suffering body and as if in a trance Maimy and I NEED (yes, we classify this as a need not a want) chocolate, coke, potato chips and french fries. It's just a fact of life. We also have varying degrees of anger. People close to us may use the word 'rage'. This is when you are most likely to hear the empty, yet hostile threats such as; 'I will rip off your arms, use them to beat you, and then shove them down your throat', 'One more sound and you will be pulling the teeth I punched down your throat....out of your rear end (rear end is only the clean version)', 'If you don't stop fighting I will run screaming into the night and never return', 'Heaven help me but I am going to break your bones', 'Touch me and I will rip your face off'. These are mostly Maimy, considering I am a tame little puddy cat. One or both Maimy and I can be found openly crying in public places for reasons severe or........not so much ie, the death of a fallen officer, leaving Max while I go to the store, loud noises, a sad book, a sad movie, talking about a sad book or movie, accidentally hitting my fists while boxing a pretend speed bag, not liking my hair, not liking my clothes, not liking that I am angry, not liking that my husband is at work, having my husband leave the house, being asked the same question more than once........really the list goes on. Frankly anything, great or small during this week could make me a) cry or b) be consumed with rage or c) both. And the sick thing is, the only way to stop PMS is to........er, ride the cotton pony. Life is sick and twisted.
Maimy and I are a little despondent to see the facts laid out so formally. Maybe it is the PMS, or the sleepiness from the double Whopper that we don't want to own up to. She and I are going to bed, where if we lie on our backs and suck in our gut we look only mildly bloated. Then we will close our eyes and dream of Week #2 where thin is in and our mood is pleasant.