2nd Day (August 11).

Moon:  Waxing Crescent

Flow/Texture: ¼ oz, dark red, elastic, big chunky bits

Mood:  annoyed, nostalgic, slightly defeated

Symptoms:  little cramping, bloating

Mucus:

Plants were fertilized twice. 

I was in one of those weird moods that clamor for old cartoon and tv show clips.  So, via youtube, I watched too many hours of mid-80′s to early 90′s stuff and vaguely reminisced about my childhood.

I immersed myself in the bright, cheery intros and bounced with glee when I found myself remembering and singing the songs I hadn’t heard in over 20 years.  I recalled the time of day the shows came on, the actual day, what I did and wore (ate cereal and wore pajamas, mostly), favorite characters and crushes.  I found myself also analyzing old favorites with my nascent, yet eager race conscious/feminist lens.  Wow, Smurfs.  Wow.

A quick look through the entries has allowed me to harbor the opinion that waxing crescents stink.  For the most part, my mood and symptoms are at their worst and they pester me longer.  That’s interesting because the crescents are my least favorite phases–if such a thing can be said.  (My favorite being the gibbous.)  So, at the very least, I need to cultivate a warmer relationship with this phase–somehow.

Were I to slip in some spirit time during the waxing crescent of my Enchantress phase (time between ovulation and menstruation), perhaps we could settle our differences and develop a friendship of sorts.  This actually occurred to me, but I lumbered through the episode without so much as even a thought to lighting a candle for my own sake.

For a couple nights before the first day (noting these symptoms as they occur would be nice), I had trouble sleeping.  And when I do sleep during times like this, I’m subject to nightmares involving death or physical or emotional torture.  I wind up staying awake for at least few hours, if not the rest of the morning.  Yes, I blame you, crescent.

Now, a little fun:  How To Know It’s Time For A New Vibrator.  My mood soared after I saw that, because that’s essentially my wand before I hit it with baking soda and hand soap.  In fact, I’m due for some of that magic right now.  For some reason (having to do self-delusion, I reckon), I couldn’t imagine anyone else staining her Hitachi.  On some level, I saw it as sacrilege, but, of course it’s fantastic.  Twenty-eight cheers for bloodied, crooked, yellowed Hitachi Wands all over the globe!

Hmm…

I keep thinking this blog is missing something.  I’m clueless as to what it is, though.

Let’s Breathe.

On a whim, I visited the menstrual cup community.  Voilà, instant mood shift.  Let’s keep the momentum going with a list.

The Good Stuff:

1. my Diva Cup.
2. I can nourish something with my blood.
3. the convenience of the cup
   1. clean panties (when I wear them)
   2. clothes in general
   3. the reassuring seal that lets me know that I’ll have clean panties and clothes in general
   4. 12 hours
   5. reusable
   6. will last for years and years–unless I melt it
4. I’ve yet to have any vaginal infections.
5. my inquisitive mind–when I indulge it
6. my clit
7. my book collection
8. my pessimism auto-release valve–it’s the reason for this entry
9. my health–allows me to steamroll my reserves and recover for the next round
10. a chilled, full bottle of port

Menstrual Hut.

Aww, suddenly I’m feeling all desirous of a menstrual gathering.  I’d love to have a bunch of menstruating women around.  We could bleed together, share wine (or tea), chocolate, salty treats, ice cream, heating pads, good poetry and stories, (orgasms, too, if we want.  Whatever works, right?)–that’s a much more positive twist on the menstrual hut.

Found a cool little thread–women talking about their periods, the symptoms, remedies.  Some were discussing their menarche.  Some of these women had moms who threw parties, making the menarche memorable in a great way.  No such luck for yours truly. The Red Tent was mentioned.

I want to commune, bleed, talk, and eat.  I always love reading the menstrual stories of other women.  I read them wherever I find them.

The brief article Where’s the Menstrual Hut When You Need It? discusses one woman’s modern-day menstrual hut.  An excerpt for your reading pleasure:

Do you ever yearn for a chamam?

You know a place to go once a month? The red tent? The menstrual hut?

As modern day women, we’ve lost this tradition of honoring ourselves during our menses. No wonder so many suffer from premenstrual syndrome. Knowing you are going to face life severely challenged by your lack of hormones every month is enough to send you over the edge. What is tolerable on a daily basis–fussy children refusing to get ready for school, your spouse’s dirty clothes tossed on the floor instead of in the hamper, telemarketers calling when you’re fixing dinner–becomes absolutely intolerable. Futilely you try to entice the kids from their warm beds, then tripping over your husband’s dirty clothes your voice rising as you gather up his mess, then racing to answer the phone, you catch your bare toe on the edge of the door and…well, we all know what happens to the telemarketer! You need a break from your life.

continued

An interesting article detailing the history of menstruation, the patriarchy’s affect, and modern-day menstrual circles.  It’s entitled Our Blooding, Our Selves.  An excerpt:

If one were to examine misogyny at its core, the hatred and fear of menstruation would figure prominently. For centuries women’s monthly blood has been perceived as ugly, evil, shameful, and taboo. Yet society has forgotten that for thousands and thousands of centuries the menstrual act was sacred and revered.

…

By even the most conservative estimate, women have been menstruating for at least 300,000 years, (i.e., the approximate time frame our species evolved into Homo sapiens). From studies of prehistory, numerous anthropologists maintain that menstruation was once highly esteemed. It was considered awesome and miraculous that women could produce new life from our wombs and food from our breasts, as well as bleed without dying. These qualities help explain the matrilineal and matrifocal character of ancient peoples.

continued

What fascinates me the most concerning the circles is the overall positive, communal vibe.  Here, women can escape the negative mindset which enshrouds menstruation.  Sure, you vent frustrations and pains.  However, you go beyond pain (hopefully) and learn to enjoy it, or, at least eye it with a tad more kindness.

Perhaps a bit appreciation for an event that heightens your senses, enlivens your dreams, heightens your sex drive, urges unresolved issues to the foreground, and causes you to bleed for days at a time.  Perhaps.

As carnivorous as I am, the vegan hut has its charms.  I especially like the beet juice idea.

Lastly, some humor courtesy of Youtube:

A Little Period Fun.

First Day (March 13).

Oh blog, no matter how much I neglect you, you’re still here for me–well, unless I forget my password or something.  I love you.

I started bleeding last night actually, but I’m flowing freely right now and won’t wearing a cup until later on today–when the real bleeding starts.

I’m all crampy and icky right now.

First period of the year.

My period started today, finally.  Seems like I was waiting for this beast for eternity.  I’ll do a proper write up later as it started only a few hours ago.

The premenstrual weeks have seen a mix of nearly everything, really:  pimples, cravings, irritability, fatigue, increased libido, gloom.  Yet, the most interesting of the bunch has been the cravings–not for chocolate or salty foods, but alcohol.  Well, it’s not so much that it’s interesting, it’s more that I confess to a crazed desire for the sauce.

Usually, I have a least one night every couple months or so during which I drink myself into a mild, world-loving languor.  On these nights, I can shut my brain off and just feel really nicely for a change.  Unfortunately, however, I’ve missed some months.

I fault a serious lack of good wine in my life.  My favorite port hasn’t been very tasty for many bottles now.  As a result, I’ve lost my enthusiasm for the stuff.

Nonetheless, I yearn for it now, can sometimes taste it on my tongue and imagine the consequent, heavy-lidded bliss.

Yeah, there’s gloom today and belly-aching on the literal and figurative tips, but the green tea is helping.  My workouts are back on schedule and I’m due for another huge bottle of water in the near future.  Still, I’d rather just plug in the Hitachi, but that’ll have to wait until later.

I’ve got things semi-straightened out, but I feel unworthy of this blog now.  On top of that, I’ve felt an increasing amount of apathy toward my menstrual cycle–I can’t say when I last checked my mucus.

This is a weird post.  I’ve been on this gross journal entry kick for a few days now.  Eh.  Given the lack of posts, most if not all of the inquisitive folks who tuned into this blog for some reason have found better, more consistent blogs–with fewer “cringe-worthy” topics, too, I reckon.  Heh, cringe-worthy.

The Replacement.

I just ordered a second Diva Cup.

I’d like to feel relief and joy, but really it just burns my buttons knowing that I had to order a replacement.

However, I now love the cup even more and appreciate what it offers.   Plus, I’m more aware of the evils contained in the “sanitary napkin.”

I’ll be putting the wine down for a while–the last bottles have stunk to high heaven–in favor of chocolate.  I’ve neglected it for quite a while as I’ve seemingly lost the taste for it. I think it’s time to get it back.