I guess it’s wisest to call it a bad mood.
It’s raining hard, which normally I love. It’s so nice to live in a part of the world where it rains hard. It’s so nice to be able to rely on it.
I went to hot yoga. That’s been putting me in a good mood recently. But not today.
One of these yoga teachers said the moment when you quit and the moment a shift happens are the two halves of the same moment.
I have a lot of lady friends, and new ones are always trying to grab a slice of my time. It’s been this way since forever- women feel very strongly about having a connection with me. Most of the time I feel good about this. But then some times I feel like, no, this is giving more than I’m getting, this is getting used, as a non-threatening, not hot, low on the female hierarchy listening pep-talk lady. And then they go home to their boyfriends and girlfriends and I go home to my sister’s cat- not even my own cat, not even a pet I chose for myself. If I chose a pet for myself it would be a dog.
You know what this mood is? It’s my period. It for sure is my period. I’m feeling that combo of selfishness, horniness, oppositionality, and annoyance that means I’m running on testosterone. Oooooh I am some kind of ego-monster when my testosterone is asserting itself. All I want before I start to bleed is dude-sex and shots and maybe punching someone deserving in the gut.
But I can’t do shots because especially during this time of the month my hangovers will be outrageous. And of course dude-sex is generally a terrible idea. About as good an idea as punching someone in the gut.
I wish there was a clubhouse for women who are about to bleed. Different than the clubhouse for women who are bleeding. The currently-bleeding clubhouse would be dark and peaceful and calm and warm. We’d speak rarely but our words would hold profound wisdom. The about-to-bleed clubhouse would be some kind of terrible boxing-ring/sex dungeon. Like, just a basement for us to be complete animals. Ha, I just realized I’m describing Christina Aguilera’s “Dirrty” video. I’m not going to wear chaps though. This is not a time of the month in which that look would be flattering.
I’m trying to get all the stuff together for this apartment I’m moving into, and wow, does decorating an apartment not come naturally to me. That is traditionally feminine work I am so unbelievably dumb at. Between wandering around a discount store yesterday trying to decide about area rugs and wanting to wile out in a basement today I am feeling DISCONNECTED FROM CONSTRUCTIONS OF FEMININITY.
Everything will be ok. I’ll probably be bitchy at some point to someone today. I won’t punch anyone in the gut. I won’t hop on some dick. And then tomorrow I’ll bleed, and have some profound realizations and lay down a lot.
Ahhhh this body. Ahhhh I wonder what it was like to live in the woods with this body. I wonder how the about-to-bleed ladies, likely all synced up on the same cycle, got down together when we lived in the woods. Those about-to-bleed parties must have been epic. Or terrifying. We probably spent our bleeding time just processing what we got into during our about-to-bleed time. UGH that sounds fun as FUCK. I guess the downside was we didn’t have Rihanna to grind to back then, and grinding to Rihanna is a foundational aspect of my about-to-bleed time.
I bet the men were hotter back then too. More muscles, less talking. They went away together more, they understood they weren’t the hosts of the party when they came back.
I know I’m laying out a fantasy, not a past reality. i just need this vision of parties in the woods today. Weird how my biology can make me feel so unfit for my social role. I need my fantasies of being female in a much funner time.