Friday, September 25, 2009


I suck at being a girl.

We’re in my car and The Husband asks if I have any lotion. Northern Nevada is whatcha call the high desert, and in respect to dryness, it lives up to its name.

No, of course not, I tell him, I'm not actually a girl.

We’re in my car and The Husband asks if I have any lipstuff. Northern Nevada is whatcha call the high desert, and in respect to dryness, it lives up to its name.

No, of course not, I’m not actually a girl.

We’re in the car and The Husband asks if I have any nail clippers. His need to constantly clip his nails has nothing to do with living in the high desert.

No, of course, not. I’m not actually a girl.

Like I said, I suck at being a girl.

I chew my nails, thus I always have hang nails or bleeding cuticles. My pedicures are few and far between and induced by the guilt of having awful looking toesies. I don’t carry a purse. I’m almost always out of shampoo. I hate going to Ulta. I think shopping is drudgery. And I never buy tampons.

The Husband does it for me.

From the beginning of our days of wedded bliss—and of course every moment has been a one of bells, roses, and stop-yer-heart romance; I can’t help myself if I just love him more and more every single day; when we’re not together my heart drops to my gut and my fingers twitch with ache to touch him—my spouse has been the one to dash off the to store, morning or night, when I discover I’m on my period. For at the beginning of my routine red plague I am always digging through bags, rifling through the car, and tearing apart bathroom cupboards searching for a solitary paper-wrapped plug.

He saves me from starting in on the junk drawer in the kitchen and the racks in the garage when he grabs his keys and makes for the store. He’s never once purchased the wrong kind.

You didn’t see this coming? He’ll ask.

Uh, no. I swear this happened like last week. How was I supposed to know it was coming again so soon?

It wasn’t last week, he says, checking his phone, It was last month.

You calendar me?

There’s an app for it.


What’s disgusting is that you always find it’s your time of the month and are shocked, like it’s never happened before.

How am I supposed to know? (Remember, I have an IUD; I don’t take the pill.) It’s no kind of regular. Stupid nastiness just sneaks up on me.

I’d just think you could read your body better. You can look in the mirror and know what your weight is to the pound.

Yeah, but that’s the important stuff.

Maybe I'm better at being a girl than I thought.


Markelle said...

hey, the whole period thing is a drag. so you supress it and try to forget that in yet another three or so weeks aunt flow will in fact return. I don't like to devote any more time to it than I already have to like going to to the store, or calculating my cycle or even lifting my arm, pen in hand and marking my calendar the day I start. Unfortunately though, aunt flow has defeated me because I am sick and tired of "ruining" my unmentionables--so now I guess I have to be more aware of her and her freakin schedule. {TMI?}

think you hit a nerve there or what?!

kathryn said...

I use a "Diva Cup". Warning if you google it, you are probably going to thing it is gross. I thought so too at first. I started using it out of necessity, my body developed an allergy to all disposable feminine hygiene products.

I have been using one for 2 years now and I will never go back! It has made my symptoms much less severe, and I never have to run to the store to buy anything! It is also better for the environment. Women on average us 10,000 disposable feminine hygiene products throughout their life. Think about what that would look like in a landfill, yuck.

It works for me and I tell anyone who will listen about it.

Now how is that for TMI?

rabidrunner said...

Is there really and app for that? I need a mePhone. Incidentally, we should see if our schedules have aligned yet. That happens, you know...

Megan said...

Wow, Kathryn, you may have totally beat me on the TMI factor. Well done. I did google it, and though the diagrams were tasteful, yes: gross. And I find that not envisioning any of my waste in a landfill is a great way to get over that fence.

Rabid, I'm not sure there isn't an app for absolutely everything. It's cool, in the Apple store they have little posters around showing their favorite apps, free and otherwise. Funnily enough, I haven't seen a feminine calendar among them.

I'm on the verge--you?

Kate said...

I have the same problem with remembering when it's due.

Oh, and I had to check...
...there are SEVERAL apps for that!
Including one, and I kid you not, called iPeriod. The search term I used was "cycle", goodness knows what I'd have got if I'd tried anything else.

Jessica said...

your husband is a rock star! my husband is afraid of all things related to feminine hygiene. the mention of purchasing hygiene products makes him break into a cold sweat. i mean, he has sisters, you would think he wouldn't freak out so much!

although, when we first got married he had just finished a biology class and mentioned to me, right after i started my period mind you, that "cramps are actually your uterus contracting, did you know that?" oh really?!? (as my hands itched to throw something in his general direction!)

Julie said...

An app? Really? I am at a loss for words.

cat+tadd=sam said...

Megan the Alpha Female. Don't worry Rabid, she'll drag you down to her cycle soon enough

rabidrunner said...

Thursday... Ish. (That whole IUD thing makes things somewhat vague.)