Period Talk – Dec, Dec Edition.

periodicTable.png Stealing time, that’s how it feels to me. Since signing up the woman-fun-ride package I often get the sense that my body is not my own. Ever since hitting (didn’t see it coming for damn sure) puberty I’ve been facing the biological-firing-squad that just keeps on playing this little game of “Ready! Aim! Fire!”, except they keep the communication to themselves of course. Then I’d be down for awhile. Picking myself up is always a learning curve, can’t say I got the hang of it yet but there’s always the next time.

So I went to 日本 (Japan, yay!) at the beginning of December after consulting my very own periodic table making sure I wouldn’t be caught red-handed. What I forgot is that my body is rather like an amusement park it tends to break down under unexpected-traveling load. And why not just happen to happen on the night of our 温泉 (hot-spring) town stay. Nice body I got here, we are in sync like THAT. Guess I shouldn’t complain too much, there are perks in being zombified after all, the stomach becomes a bottomless hole, not to mention all the reactions with people become automatic due to the lowered input rate from the vastly over-rated consciousness. Go team! Of course I bathed in the 温泉 regardless. I figured it’s all organic matter anyway so I wouldn’t want to miss the one chance to do the unthinkable to the locals (It’s only a slow leak at that point, in case you are weirdly grossed out).

Then the firing-squad did it again at the end of the same month. For that I just want to say thank you, so much, for making me not caring as much (or at all) about how I should behave in the parties, in front of all the relatives. It’s just the perfect time of the year to be under the influence of low blood-sugar and low self-control. I had a blast at both occasions. It is the roller coaster ride that just keeps on flowing.

Period Talk – October Edition.

sink-or-swim.png You know there are periods that just take care of themselves? They just seem to roll right along into your live with a polite announcement by way of a little bleeding in the neither region, and you go “Oh! welcome stranger, let me take good care of you while you are visiting.” “Oh no no nonono, it’s no bother at all, make yourself at home.” At the end of several days they just bounce away like balls of blood-tainted cute crumbled trash and you are like “Bye bye! Hope you had a good time and see you soon.” Yeh, this is not one of those. I liken these to mega-fatigue-inducing blood suckers. Such events comes with their own preludes: something like a productive and very tiring but uplifting workweek or an exhaustingly fun communal event where you can forget for a moment what a low-energy state even feels like. Then it hits you.

So I like to make bed at night. I feel like we are so fortunate to have safe and oh-so comfortable chamber dedicated to our nighttime activities. I’d layout the soft duvet and already can feel myself laying in the enveloping warmth that’s waiting for me. This is my period talking, the same one that makes me dream of chocolate milkshakes and have such a demonic craving of anything salty and sweet I feel a certain kinship to zombies while grabbing a bag of sea-salt potato chips and enjoying them with such pleasure I think I’m in love.

It’s a basic love, a love that can be mustered while in a state of bodily discharge and mental exhaustion and the senses are left to roam the ruins. The wind feels good on the skin, time does not matter, the feeling lasts forever. I can’t fight this, my body needs what it needs. I have learned that sometimes you are the baron of your body, other times your body tells you to fuck off and smell the grease. I don’t feel guilty any more. My body has served me well all things considered, it can have some chocolate milkshake, a whole bag of chips at a time and half day sleep schedule if it can’t help itself. I’m on board. Enjoy the flow.

P.S. Saw the movie “Venom” during period, looks like Tom Hardy was having a medium intensity one himself. Eat up bro.