Speaking of Which...

[xnotalovesong.livejournal.com]

Continuing on an earlier thread about happy period books, everytime I get my period I read CUNT by Inga Muscio. In fact, that was the book that taught me to live with my period and learn to love it cause it's not going anywhere. If you ever want to laugh and totally embrace your rocking-womanly self, I very much recommend this book.

That time of the month, F!@#$%^&*

[gsyh.livejournal.com]

You know, I love being a woman. While I would like to be a man for a few days just to see what it's like, for fun and science, I think permanently I'll keep the pretty genitals and the natural multiple orgasms. And my bias opinion, the fact that we are just, you know, prettier and more flexible, not likely to kneel over for a little thing like a golf ball shot.

Right now though, I really would love to not be a woman for a few hours, or for the next week, or that several days a month. Jesus Mary and Joseph, it feels like there is an alien in my belly, I thought those fugly things goes for the chest? My fucking insides are churning, it feels like there is an octopus in my uterus, or my uterus is an octopus, its squeezing way too hard on itself that I'm surprised that it didn't burst a lung and start coughing up blood.

Back in junior high and early high school, I use to have cramps so bad that once a month I have to take the afternoon off when it hits. The first few times I spent the second half of the day curled up on a couch in health room, throwing up or waiting to throw up because I feel better afterwards. Its on the first day of my menstrual or the day immediately after. The time it was the worst was when I had chocolate ice-cream in the morning as a comfort food in spite of the increasing queasy, and so I learn my lesson, absolutely no ice-cream on the first day. Nothing too rich, toast, maybe a little jam. Take the day off and curl up with a heat pack.

It was better the last few years, I exercise, I eat right, so this caught me by surprise, but this past month I lapsed in my laps, pigged out on coffee ice-cream, and whamp!

Tomorrow I'm going to see if sports injury video the likes of which Homer Simpson watched exist, it's vindictive, petty, and probably a little sexist but man being babies over sports injuries ought to cheer me up. My brother always say that "us woman exaggerate" and should stop blaming our moods on PMS. Any wonder why I have zero empathy or sympathy when he kneels over on the field or driveway?

< / end bitch bitch bitch, moan moan moan, whine, whine, whine >

And to end this post on a less vindictive note, I would like to thank the people who invented microwaves, moist heat bean bags, and soy milk.