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timepiececlockAt first I was feeling not sure if I should write about this in my journal. A few months ago I did, but I made it friends-locked.
Well fuck that, this is my journal, and I have always felt perfectly happy to inform everyone around me when I'm in physical pain. Why should this be different?
I am in pain.
Hear me! Feel my pain! Chances are it's yours too.
I'm not even going to cut-tag this. I'm a bad, rude woman.
.
So I was sitting in the bathtub listening to my radio stations "Top 104.9 alternative albums of all time" holiday coutdown (I can believe Jack Johnson's on this list, Ugh), feeling sorry for myself, when I started to think.
What do I know about myself today? What are certainties that no person, no man, no corporation or law or religious leader can convince me of otherwise?
I know my blood is red, like everyone else's is. What does it matter what my skin is, if my blood is red?
I know that today, I am not a mother.
I know that some day I could be, if I wanted.
I know I am not alone in the world. In fact, there's 3 billion + people like me in the world.
Then I got to wondering, how many women out there are going through exactly what I am, this very moment? How many women can feel the muscles (fantastic muscles that no one can see) moving, exercising, and exorcising inside them at that very moment?
I tried to calculate it in the bathtub, but I couldn't make my brain do the math without a calculator or some paper.
But here's what I figured.
If every woman averages 6 days menstrating every 28 days, then they go through 13.04 cycles and bleed 78.2 days each year.
There are approximately 3 billion women in the world, and 365 days each year.
Approximately 49,315,069 women bleed their lifeblood out of their bodies on any given day of the year.
That means that, at any given moment it's possible that as many as 50 million women could be having menstral pains at this moment.
Hey, I'm not only not alone in my pain, but there's tens of millions out there who, as I type these words, understand me on a fundamental, biological level. I don't even have to speak their language, they just know.
And even if they can't feel it anymore, they remember after a lifetime.
Yeah, I'm feelin' womanly today.
So, can any of your fabulous women who got this far in reading tell me anything about sea sponges? I read some interesting stuff about them as an alternative to tampons. I'll admit the idea of draining blood into a public bathroom sink has a certain anti-societal-rules appeal to me.
Well fuck that, this is my journal, and I have always felt perfectly happy to inform everyone around me when I'm in physical pain. Why should this be different?
I am in pain.
Hear me! Feel my pain! Chances are it's yours too.
I'm not even going to cut-tag this. I'm a bad, rude woman.
.
So I was sitting in the bathtub listening to my radio stations "Top 104.9 alternative albums of all time" holiday coutdown (I can believe Jack Johnson's on this list, Ugh), feeling sorry for myself, when I started to think.
What do I know about myself today? What are certainties that no person, no man, no corporation or law or religious leader can convince me of otherwise?
I know my blood is red, like everyone else's is. What does it matter what my skin is, if my blood is red?
I know that today, I am not a mother.
I know that some day I could be, if I wanted.
I know I am not alone in the world. In fact, there's 3 billion + people like me in the world.
Then I got to wondering, how many women out there are going through exactly what I am, this very moment? How many women can feel the muscles (fantastic muscles that no one can see) moving, exercising, and exorcising inside them at that very moment?
I tried to calculate it in the bathtub, but I couldn't make my brain do the math without a calculator or some paper.
But here's what I figured.
If every woman averages 6 days menstrating every 28 days, then they go through 13.04 cycles and bleed 78.2 days each year.
There are approximately 3 billion women in the world, and 365 days each year.
Approximately 49,315,069 women bleed their lifeblood out of their bodies on any given day of the year.
That means that, at any given moment it's possible that as many as 50 million women could be having menstral pains at this moment.
Hey, I'm not only not alone in my pain, but there's tens of millions out there who, as I type these words, understand me on a fundamental, biological level. I don't even have to speak their language, they just know.
And even if they can't feel it anymore, they remember after a lifetime.
Yeah, I'm feelin' womanly today.
So, can any of your fabulous women who got this far in reading tell me anything about sea sponges? I read some interesting stuff about them as an alternative to tampons. I'll admit the idea of draining blood into a public bathroom sink has a certain anti-societal-rules appeal to me.
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no subject
Date: 2003-07-05 07:38 pm (UTC)I don't know nothin' 'bout no sea sponges, but I beg of you not to be squicked about the unacceptability of GIRL-BLOOD over plain old blood-blood. (It's okay if you feel rebellious about it. Heh.)
It reminded me of a story a friend told me, years ago. For the first time in her life, she was sharing an apartment with a boyfriend (whole new experience for both of them). Well, my friend tended to get nosebleeds now and then, so one day she had one and blotted it up and applied ice and whatnot, wadded up the tissues, and placed them in the wastebasket.
Well, her boyfriend came unglued. He was all, "Oh my God, that is so gross! Can't you take care of your 'monthly visit' better than that? I shouldn't have to... I mean, it's all horrible...."
He finally calmed down enough so that she could explain that it wasn't Mysterious Evil Girl-Blood, just plain old ordinary nose blood. And then he was okay with it.
Perhaps one ought to dispose of any bloody trash in a manner that won't startle someone else, but blood is blood is blood. If you leave the sink clean for the next user, I say BFD.
no subject
Date: 2003-07-05 07:51 pm (UTC):big grin: Wait... let me go make an icon of that. Since it was given to me, I can now freely claim it as a title. ;) I'll make variations for others too.
He finally calmed down enough so that she could explain that it wasn't Mysterious Evil Girl-Blood, just plain old ordinary nose blood. And then he was okay with it.
A weird and silly distinction, when you think about it But not surprising at all.
If you leave the sink clean for the next user, I say BFD.
:giggle:
When I was on my third or fourth period (seventh grade) I left a bloody pad rolled up and sitting on the bathroom counter next to the toilet.
My mom pointed it out to me and said my brother had noticed it. I forgave my brother that, because any bloody wad of tissue is gross when left on the counter. In the garbage though, there's no reason to discriminate.