Too much information

Feeling better. Always the peak of emotional maelstrom the day before the period. Menstroooation.

I had a cathartic epiphany last night brought on by a film. Shall I tell you which film? I guess. Shortbus. I thought it would be a cutesy, showy, "oh look at us urban people" movie but it was really really good. There was subplot of a depressed man who could process, intellectually, that he had an awesome boyfriend who loved him like crazy and he loved him back and he knew he was lucky but thought he would never be able to really feel it, emotionally. Like really feel it and feel the happiness. I was crying, crying , crying. I empathised, but it also snapped the elastic in my head. I's the same situation that happens to people all the time when given advice they know is true but can't really feel it until that moment when it clicks..the whipcrack moment when you finally get it.

Anyway, the movie made me crack open the desire I had to FEEL that some battles are best not fought. Happiness is more important than being perfect and right. If a battle, no matter how just, seeps into your happiness like poison you can and should walk away. Joyfully. Laughing as you wave your white flag. Gleefully flinging the money in the robbers face, giving him his ill-gotten gains that he can rot with if it releases you to be free and happy. etc. I'm not talking about hedonism; thoughtless, immorral, selfish pleasure seeking. I'm not saying abandon all responsibility...you know what I mean. I saw all those sad people in the film, trying so hard and not seeing. I do that too much. I have so much that I keep myself from being able to enjoy. I don't want to do that.

Let's see how long it lasts. It's in print now, so you hold me to it!

On a lighter or icky, depending on wether you are a mucklewhite or not, note:

I am usually wholly prepared for my period. This month, I completely lost track of where I was in the month. I use the Keeper, which I love, but I have been caught without it today- much to my horror.

I had to borrow a tampon and was given 2. The first one was perumed fer christsake! Disgusting. I threw it out and decided to just wait a while. When I decided to give the second a look, I wasn't sure about it either. It was in a plastic applicator and had this faint perfumey smell. Was it the applicator, was it the tampon? Then I realize, sitting there in the stall, that I have a tampon shoved up to my nostril and I'm sniffing it furiously like a rabbit sniffing out danger. Then I realize that i'm sitting in a toilet stall, with a tampon shoved up to one nostril, laughing like a maniac. I mentioned to T that I'd rather just bleed down my leg then go back to those evil, chemically bastards. Maybe I'll try that declaration out today.