Magnetic Ribbons of Displeasure

If there is one thing right now that I hate more than the MILLIONS of those damn magnetic faux ribbons on the backs of people's cars right now (and I hate those to the point that it makes me want to foam at the mouth...) it is my body, specifically my reproductive organs.

----- Begin rant ------

I mean seriously - who doesn't support the troops, or want to cure breast cancer? And at least - at LEAST - if you must have one of these atrocities on your car, please - in the name of all that is holy, do NOT put it askew so that we can all read "support our troops" in lovely blue script in our left to right paradigm.

And before someone goes off on how I'm unpatriotic and I don't care about our troops, I invite you to kiss my big flat glow in the dark white ass. I wholly support our troops. I just do it by sending money and care packages over, and protesting the war, trying to vote for people who will bring our soldiers home and increase their pay... rather than sticking a $1 tacky ass magnetic faux ribbon on my car.

And why is it that big SUVs (i.e. Hummer drivers especially) seem to have a competition to see who can have the MOST ribbons on their cars? I saw one with SIX - yes SIX of these clinging on desperately to the rear door. What are they compensating for?

--- End completely irrelevant (potentially PMSing) rant ---

Dear RO (reproductive organs) - and whoever is in charge of you.

You and I have had a rather contentious relationship over the last 25 years. I mean, I was literally born menstruating (something to do with excess hormones from my mother wreaking havoc on my itty bitty reproductive organs). I started my period when I was only eleven years old (and oddly enough, after staying up and watching "Carrie"). I was the Alpha female with consistent 28-30 days long cycles. Other women's cycles tended to move to coincide to mine.

I remember being about age 4, and making sleeping bags for my barbies with my step-mother's maxi pads. I remember reading "Are you there God, it's me - Margaret" by Judy Blume at about age nine, and being so excited to think about when I would finally get my period, although I never understood what the hell the A&P was in that book (a grocery store?)- and being thankful that we don't have those belted contraptions anymore. I remember during my rather scandalous youth (yea, I'm not disclosing the age here) praying that my period would come, begging God that if he would just make me not pregnant, that I would be the world's most chaste and pure woman... (thankfully he listened, because I seemed to have a problem holding up my end of the deal).

I remember late nights crying with pregnancy tests sobbing in my college dorm room, too afraid to take it - too afraid that I fucked up - literally. I remember when M. and I were first married, and I miscarried, being thankful - because we were so financially unstable. I wanted to bring a baby into the world only when we had some "us" time under our belt, a comfortable financial situation, health insurance, etc.

However, today is now day 38. The home pregnancy test I took three days ago was negative. I have had extremely light spotting for close to five days now, but no period to speak of. This shit is getting old. M. said I'm the only person who can go through an entire box of tampons without actually getting my period. So besides just being rude, you are now wasting resources. I may be singlehandedly supporting America's cotton farmers right now.

So, let's get this show started. I have never been this late before and not been pregnant, but when I was pregnant before - I never spotted at all, so I am pretty sure that I am not now 'with child' or 'with embryo'. Besides, now you are completely screwing me out of my next cycle, as if I start today, I will ovulate on Christmas Day. I won't even drink in front of my father, so having raunchy sex (even for baby making purposes) in his house with around 40 of my other relatives there, is a little out of the question.

BAH! You are making me extremely grinchy. EXTREMELY. I am beginning to seriously dislike you.