UGH! Why!!?? Why us?? Why females? What do men get? Why can’t they have some weird, reoccurring and most the times painful thing they have to go through every month?
I hate it! At least right at this moment. Yes, I realize hate is a strong word, but when you don’t sleep because of the pain, I’ll use the word hate.
Yes I took painkillers. Strong painkiller. It made me tired. The pain continues.
It’s funny, I was on one of my favorite websites, www.paperbackswap.com and there is a thread on there about female things. I know I could just say menstruation but female things is more fun and sounds nicer. Anyway, the thread got me thinking and which leads to this blog but I didn’t start typing anything because I’m lazy and I wasn’t feeling good. Little did I know I wasn’t feeling good because I was about to start my female thing, which I am currently experiencing at this particular moment, which I thought anyone reading this really really wanted to know that.
However I did realize a few days ago that I was pissing everyone off and I must be close to my period because I tend to piss everyone off around the same time each month.
Anyway……….
Where was I? Oh, PBS, right. For some reason I find it fascinating to read about how other women handle their female things and the products they use, leading me to consider investing in a Diva Cup. No more purchasing of female things every month would make me incredibly happy and plus for environmental reasons, comfort and so on and so forth.
So I think I will be making that purchase this week in order to be prepared for the future of female things.
I considered using the cloths you can buy instead of pad, but then I also considered the extremely grumpy person I live with and the possibilities of conversation that would be had should he see them after they’ve been used a few times…. ( staining and such).
Anyway, on a random note, I enjoy blogging about things even if I don’t think people would enjoy/ be slightly grossed out by topic, because these are the things I think about.
One more thing. On the thread at PBS, people were talking about husbands and people being embarrassed to buy female things and condoms. Why? Every female has female things, why on earth should it embarrass anyone?? Why should buying condoms be embarrassing? I’ve never been embarrassed… not that I can remember anyway…. Especially the condoms… your getting laid, that should be a good thing…. ( this is coming from a single woman remember).
Though as much as I don’t like that a man would be embarrassed to buy female things for his female. I don’t believe my VERY macho roommate would ever buy be such female things. Though I can’t say for sure. But I’m basing that off the fact that it is very difficult to even get this person to get me chocolate or ice cream ( not a special trip, just while he’s out), because it doesn’t fit in to his world.
That being said, He did buy my ice cream last night after I talked him into it. And I was determined, because when a female is having her female thing, there is only one other thing needed besides female products and that is, ice cream. Or chocolate. Ok two things. Maybe three or four or five more. Or more than that. I’m sure I could make a list.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Bizarre Life
What is normal? I don’t like to think there is a set standard definition for “normal”. What’s normal to me might not be normal to anyone else.
I was just thinking how bizarre my life seems to be compared to a normal life.
Normal being, people have “careers” not just jobs, or a job in their “ career field”, they have real relationships where your with some one for longer than a month or two and pretty soon moving in together, marriage, family, pets. Generally happy.
Why is that so hard for me. Is it because I don’t believe in normal? Am I normal and that description is really the bizarre? Is it because I have an idea of what normal is, yet I don’t think normal should be anything, so really I don’t I’m not sure what I think of normal?
Maybe I’m still just trying to figure out where I fit in when I should realize that I do fit in and I’m being who I am, and I’m right where I belong. Ah ha!
Is it that easy? Maybe. I guess I feel like I’m 30years old I should have some clue.
I like my job. I love where I’m living currently. I’m content where I am at in my life at this moment. So why am I thinking about normal and bizarreness? What does it matter if I’m happy?
I guess I’m just realizing that what I feel is a pretty bizarre life is actually pretty normal. Whatever that means.
I was just thinking how bizarre my life seems to be compared to a normal life.
Normal being, people have “careers” not just jobs, or a job in their “ career field”, they have real relationships where your with some one for longer than a month or two and pretty soon moving in together, marriage, family, pets. Generally happy.
Why is that so hard for me. Is it because I don’t believe in normal? Am I normal and that description is really the bizarre? Is it because I have an idea of what normal is, yet I don’t think normal should be anything, so really I don’t I’m not sure what I think of normal?
Maybe I’m still just trying to figure out where I fit in when I should realize that I do fit in and I’m being who I am, and I’m right where I belong. Ah ha!
Is it that easy? Maybe. I guess I feel like I’m 30years old I should have some clue.
I like my job. I love where I’m living currently. I’m content where I am at in my life at this moment. So why am I thinking about normal and bizarreness? What does it matter if I’m happy?
I guess I’m just realizing that what I feel is a pretty bizarre life is actually pretty normal. Whatever that means.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
The death of a cockroach
I was going to write about a cockroach I found today. Isn’t that gross who’d want to write about that? But I was thinking about it which gave me the thought to start the whole blogging thing.
I went to the store today and when I came back I came upon a very large cockroach laying on the kitchen floor.
I know at the time I came upon him he must have just realized that he had made the tragic mistake of entering the kitchen of cockroach death. He was laying on his back ( I realize that it could be she, but come on, it’s a roach) twitching his legs, moving his head back and forth ( that was gross) and I imagine attempting to take his last breathes.
I screamed in horror when I noticed him, not realizing at first that he was in the throws of death. ( throws of death, is that right? It's probably spelled differently) I ran and grabbed my spray Clorox bleach and spritzed him a couple times to make sure he wasn’t getting up again.
Then I very nervously used a whole bunch of paper towels to pick him up, ( You have to use a bunch so you don’t feel them inside) and flushed him down the toilet.
Which started me thinking. Why don’t cockroaches have friends and family to help them? Why didn’t one of his friends say, “Hey! Don’t go in there! She has stuff that’ll kill ya!” There are so many of them you’d think they would help each other out. Maybe they do in some ways that I don’t know and don’t want to know. But I just find it sad that no one warned him. Of course, maybe they did. Maybe his mom told him not to come here and he thought he was being all cool and independent and grown up, and then he ended up dead.
I went to the store today and when I came back I came upon a very large cockroach laying on the kitchen floor.
I know at the time I came upon him he must have just realized that he had made the tragic mistake of entering the kitchen of cockroach death. He was laying on his back ( I realize that it could be she, but come on, it’s a roach) twitching his legs, moving his head back and forth ( that was gross) and I imagine attempting to take his last breathes.
I screamed in horror when I noticed him, not realizing at first that he was in the throws of death. ( throws of death, is that right? It's probably spelled differently) I ran and grabbed my spray Clorox bleach and spritzed him a couple times to make sure he wasn’t getting up again.
Then I very nervously used a whole bunch of paper towels to pick him up, ( You have to use a bunch so you don’t feel them inside) and flushed him down the toilet.
Which started me thinking. Why don’t cockroaches have friends and family to help them? Why didn’t one of his friends say, “Hey! Don’t go in there! She has stuff that’ll kill ya!” There are so many of them you’d think they would help each other out. Maybe they do in some ways that I don’t know and don’t want to know. But I just find it sad that no one warned him. Of course, maybe they did. Maybe his mom told him not to come here and he thought he was being all cool and independent and grown up, and then he ended up dead.
Blogging
Why do we blog? Why do we feel the need to share all our pointless insane thoughts to everyone. Yes, I’m talking about me too. Insane, indeed. Well, insane thoughts. Well, pointless thoughts. Hehe. Blogging has become such a HUGE deal. It’s just funny that we used to use our diaries and keep our thoughts in that little book. Mine had a lock on it. Now we don’t write in diaries, We post it online for everyone to read. Is that healthy. Yeah, it probably is. It’s good to get it out of your system and even more freeing to know that people who you may not know are reading it. I feel more free already. I’m not even going to spell check. Well, maybe a little.
As for me, I’ve always liked to write. I used to write short stories. Funny and scary ones. I tried writing dramas or suspense but they always turned into comedies. I think this is a good way to get me back into writing more. I always have so many completely random and interesting dialogues going on in my head that I should get it out and let people read the mind that is lisa.
But how often will I post. Maybe this is it. Maybe there will be no more. Maybe I’ll write more next year. I’m going to try to post often, To get those creative juices flowin. But I guess I’ll just post when I post. When those random thoughts occur and I’m here with the computer. Better to get it out
Than to lose myself in my head and accidently start talking to myself out loud while I’m walking down the street and people give me funny looks. Have I done that? Yes. Did I really just admit that?
As for me, I’ve always liked to write. I used to write short stories. Funny and scary ones. I tried writing dramas or suspense but they always turned into comedies. I think this is a good way to get me back into writing more. I always have so many completely random and interesting dialogues going on in my head that I should get it out and let people read the mind that is lisa.
But how often will I post. Maybe this is it. Maybe there will be no more. Maybe I’ll write more next year. I’m going to try to post often, To get those creative juices flowin. But I guess I’ll just post when I post. When those random thoughts occur and I’m here with the computer. Better to get it out
Than to lose myself in my head and accidently start talking to myself out loud while I’m walking down the street and people give me funny looks. Have I done that? Yes. Did I really just admit that?
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