Turn back now, darling

The ones in the back with Y chromosomes are not going to like this, I think. Not sure, but from my own experience talking about my period in a group of boys I can't say they gave me the most pleasant looks. The males may read on, but don't be angry at me when in fact I was the one who gave you a long heads up, ok?

 Ladies, please click below to read more :)




I never remember when my last period was. I really don't even make an effort to mark on a calendar the first and last day even though I've been scolded by the lazy gynecologist at Planned Parenthood and lectured by my regular women's doctor during yearly exams to do so. It's not as though I don't have the proper materials. We have five calendars hanging on our walls and little ball point pens sitting right next to them, too. And it's not as though knowing when the last time I bled wouldn't be a highly useful date to know. It would be incredibly useful to know. Maybe my lack of motivation stems from the forgetfulness of sheer exhilaration when I do get it and know I'm not pregnant. Basking in the glow of childlessness, I turn a blind eye to the calendars and focus solely on the last day of my period when I can have sex again. I'm not a big fan of period sex for every reason besides political and philosophical, but that is another topic for another time. So then how do I remember the date of my last period? Easy, I got it on Valentine's Day. My bloody valentine. Gross...

So for the first time in ... ever I went over to a calendar and counted 28 days from February 14. Hmmm, March 14 seems to be on the schedule for girl time. Ok, fine. I knew I was going on a road trip with 3 boneheaded boys - not that those particular boys are boneheads, just that boys in the general sense are boneheads - around that time and kind of needed to not be having my heaviest days during the actual trip. To qualify that statement again, these particular boneheads are probably some of the more understanding ones since all of them have sisters that they treat nicely and lovingly, so I don't feel like they won't be empathetic, but really, would you like to ask to stop at a gas station every 45 minutes? No one would, I'd think. Constant worrying about bleeding, massive cramps, mean irritability. Wouldn't it suck to go through that while stuck in a one bedroom hotel with three guys? Luckily March 14 is a few days before our road trip and I will be over everything by the time we're singing Jason Collett songs in the south Texas desert. Right? Wait, right?! Oh god, wait, it is the first day of our road trip and I haven't even started it yet. My first reaction was a loud, ringing NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Now this seems to be the real reason I never mark my periods on a calendar. Why bother? They're never 28 days apart. They're never consistently any number of days apart. If I knew the actual dates of my periods, I'd probably check myself into a hospital (for weird periods? Who does that?) and find out I have an incurable disorder known as Restless Ovary Syndrome and they'd recommend to not even bother with the calendar in the first place because it'd just worry me.

Anyway.

Here I am, T-minus 5 and 1/2 hours from leaving for Austin with 3 boneheads who, as nice as they are, can't begin to fathom the horrible stress of getting your period while stuck in a car in the middle of a desert without a rest area for 155 miles. I'm going to stick a tampon in there anyhow and just wait for the cramps to begin. Please don't laugh if I have to admit myself to the ER for TSS. Oh, damn everything!

Love,
Me

P.S. I put that picture of lemons because I vaguely remember an old wives' tale about how eating lemons makes you skip your period ... uhm, I'm desperate enough to try it now. Is it going to make my pee burn?

P.P.S. Also, forgot to mention: if only I were on the pill then this never would have happened. I could just skip those placebos and get straight to the non-period days. Sigh.

P.P.P.S. And in case you missed it ....... SIGH!