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2004-08-02 @ 10:51 a.m.
for girls only today

Iíd say I like being a woman about 97% of the time. I like being soft and round and curvy. I like that its ok to cry. I like that I can check out naked boobs anytime I want (and theyíre size 40C if youíre interested. Not awesomely large, but not tiny either. But supposedly they are small enough that my mother has always felt the need to say ďwell, youíre not large like me.Ē Thatís true momsy, but its not that you are genetically large like a Norwegian fembot either. You're only large because youíre 100 pounds overweight and their size is just in direct correlation with the rest of your body.

And besides, who wants big ta taís. I think mine are just the perfect size, shape, color and should be featured on those large screens around Time Square in New York City, so that men could gawk and women could wish they had breasts exactly like mine, so shut the fuck up.

But then thereís that menstruating thing. Well, thatís always been problematic. When I was younger I used to have the worst periods. Tremendous pain. Things that looked liked bloodied aliens falling out of my body each month. (sorry for that visual, but you know what I mean). But things have gotten better as I have gotten older. I have virtually no cramps now. Yay! The blood flow has lessened by and large. Of course my PMS still has striking similarities to the psychological make up of serial killers, but whose's doesn't?

Last year I went nine months without a period. I was ecstatic. I thought yay, this is it. No more 27 days of PMS and 3 days of blood letting. Iím free. IíM FREE!!!! But then the little bastard came back in October, and Iíve been having it ever since. But then last month it stopped again. And I was cautiously optimistic. Iím 46. I know menopause is on the way...sometime soon. So for some reason I really didnít expect to get my period this month. And I had also just gotten that stupid birth control shot. You know...the ďjust in case I decide to use my freakiní vaginaĒ shot. I thought maybe that would make some kind of difference since last time I stopped the blood flow thing was also last time I had gotten birth control and I thought there was some kind of tenuous connection.


So here is the official wittykitty menstrual calendar of events (and Iím sure youíre all waiting breathlessly, right?).

Wednesday, July 21: Oh shit. I guess Iím getting a period this month.

Thursday, July 22: My all day trip with Married Guy to the mountains. See, now you know why I needed to stop at 27 bathrooms along the way.

Friday, July 23: Yeah, yeah, yeah, still bleeding like a stuck pig.

Saturday, July 24: Yup. Still there.

Sunday, July 25: Hey, this is weird. I usually only get three day periods.

Monday, July 26: Stupid girl body, stop that. Youíre getting on my nerves.

Tuesday, July 27: WTF, youíre really starting to annoy me. Why am I still bleeding?

Wednesday, July 28: I really want to wear my summer dress with no panties to my drawing class, but Iím bleeding like a freakiní car accident victim.

Thursday, July 29: Itís hot, its humid, Iím homicidal, and I have this thick cotton thing between my legs. FUCK.

Friday, July 30: I must have cancer. I must. Why am I still bleeding?

Saturday, July 31: Our father who art in heaven....

Sunday, August 1: Should I be writing my last will and testament? ďAĒ forget about that appointment you canceled on me. I guess I wonít be needing it. Married Guy, I love you. I wish we could have ďdone itĒ at least once. Two hot tempered Irish people writhing passionately between the sheets, on top of the sheets, in the shower, on the kitchen table, under the kitchen table, on top of the washing machine during the spin cycle, in your wifeís SUV, hashing out all our buried anger in hot, passionate lovemaking. It would have been great.

Monday, August 2: Getting ready for an appointment with my case manager. Still bleeding. Guess Iíll just have to call a doctor today, although I lost my Medicaid because of a screw up with ďAĒs nitwit billing service. Will have to figure something out. I also have a massage appointment with Married Guy in one week. Its been over one month since Iíve had one. Iíve really missed the touch of his hands on my body. I just hope this bleeding thing has abated by then. Iím feeling so tired and weak. I guess it just could be stress. Please make it stop. Please.

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty