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03.08.2003 - 12:42 p.m.

Saturday

So getting your stupid period on a Saturday morning? Quelle fucking drag. The entire weekend is stretched before me, and I'm saddled with The Curse, First Day Of, which means constant bathroom breaks and fistfuls of ibuprofen. Bah.

For me, the first day of the red tide is always the worst. Trying to stem the mighty flow is a full time job that necessitates house arrest and the dreariness that is the super sized tampon.

My uterus: "I'm bleeding to death!"
Me: "Plug it up! Plug it UP!"

(This dramatic reenactment of Carrie has been brought to you by a grant from the Tampax Corporation.)

Let us not even discuss the predictable yet somehow still dramatic emergence of the Period Zit, nor the nearly obscene craving for salt and vinegar potato chips. Damn you, estrogen.

So, in other news which does not have anything to do with menstruation, for which I am sure you are quite glad, we are booked for a 7-day cruise in May! Picture me jumping up and down and squealing and generally just dorking the fuck out, and you will get an idea of how excited I am. It departs from LA on May 3rd, and heads down to Mexico, stopping at Cabo San Lucas, Mazatlan, and Puerto Vallarta. If this big-ass link works, you can see all the details here.

That means I've got less than two months to not feel like I am running the risk of being harpooned when I wear my two piece bathing suit, plus a couple of fake-n-bake sessions are definitely in order so that I don't blind other passengers with my wintery white hide.

Hopefully the Period Zit will be gone by then, too, although judging by its current state I'm not making any assumptions.

:::

Yesterday we had the most schizophrenic weather I've ever seen in the NW. It rained, then it hailed, then it rained, then there was 20 minutes of the most beautiful big fat fluffy white snowflakes that melted the instant they hit the ground, then there was a period of blindingly bright sunshine, then it hailed again. Weirdness. I was waiting for the eventual storm of toads or debut of the apocalypse.

While the dog snored blissfully and the cat watched the snow with rounded eyes, I got all crafted-out yesterday afternoon. See, I was reading the always amazing Evany, and I followed her link to Not Martha, where I saw her page about making marble magnets, and I said YES YES YES! I must also make those magnets!

Because really, how cute are they? Seriously!

So I printed out the instructions and I drove myself to a Michael's, which luckily is right near my house. I then spent, like, five hours in there looking for the stuff I needed because frankly I have never been in a crafts store before and it's BIG and I don't know where the fucking glue aisle is and where's those goddamn magnets? Plus the place was filled with these competent-looking women who were gathering supplies to make their own confetti for the big scrapbooking event they were going to later.

When I finally had all my supplies spread before me, I then had to spend another five hours hunting through magazines for cute little ¾" images, which is much harder than you think, missy. And then I realized I had bought the wrong sort of marbles, because although they look clear, most of them have some kind of mirror-y finish which makes it hard to see those cute little images.

I did end up with some satisfying magnets of my very own, and it was quite fun. I think there is a market out there for tiny little porn magnets. Not that that's what I made. I'm just saying.

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