People smarter than me have made a shit ton of cash breaking down the many fun differences between men and women.
A lot of the data is flawed or insulting to both genders. I know a lot of dudes who cried at Up and a lot of girls whose farts have the power to melt iPhone screens. Both boys and girls are flawed and beautiful and frustrating and mischievous. We complement each other and we infuriate each other and sometimes a boy and a girl couple off and make lives together. Under one roof is where the real chemistry ignites (for better or for worse), and one pulsating difference between men and women reveals itself.
Once a month women bleed and feel ALL the feelings. All of them, in a very short period of time.
How we choose to respond to these cues every 30 days depends on our current mental and physical state, our disposition, and exactly how many hallucinogens need to be popped to help with the midriff lightning strikes of cramps.
During my last “redletting,” I felt a creativity burst, like I’d been injected with the most amazing thoughts that never occurred to Erma, Oprah, Maya, Deepak, Socrates or Homer. DEEP shit. I made a list of my brilliance, and then put it aside to read after I could swap my nice underwear back into the rotation.
I just re-read the list and, guys, this stuff is straight-up nonsense. Never let me blog while I’m bleeding. It is hazardous blogging under the influence.
Don’t believe me? See topics below:
- Is there ANY link between upper arm acne and a newfound appreciation of push ups? Because I will stop exercising forever if it means my arms can stop already with the pus.
- You guys, it’s snowing in April and I think the weather is trying to tell us we done fucked up for good. (Ask Anne for a more scientific take on this.) (And build elaborate silo shelter. Don’t forget to bring Netflix log-in.)
- When I do squats in my pajama pants, I can hear and feel my vaginal lips pursing and clasping together. Is this common?
- When my daughter burned the tips of her fingers after touching a stove element (because nobody said kitchen helping should be fun), the internet said cold water isn’t good any more for burns. WHAT IS REAL ANYMORE?
- Even though I adore a good snark, I am now paranoid about my sincerity gauge. If I post this (video/picture/Pin), will I be exposed as uncool? Can I sob about being a Mom without feeling like a puppet who eats sentiment washed down with manipulation for dinner?
- Is it ok that I don’t correct my kid’s blatantly terrible mispronunciations that make me so happy? Ask your toddler to say “carbohydrate” and “construction worker.” Then die from pleasure.
- It’s totally a sign that I’m a terrible parent if I read an article about a local meth dealer and his HQ is the McDonald’s that we take our kid to right around the corner, right? Also, chicken nuggets are totally meth for 3 year olds.
AWESOME, right? Next month when I bleed and think I’m brilliant, I’m going full Amish – no technology to document my idle brain vomit. Truly, it’s quite remarkable what happens when the blood from your head rushes down a tampon string instead.