A GOOD DAY

August 13, 2006

Do not contradict me today.  It is not a good idea to contradict a woman with 3 to 4 pounds of bloating that feels like actual gained fat…

… and how the fuck that happened beats me but Loverboy-the-doctor swears I declare myself fat every month as distraught he yells Have you learned nothing woman?  It is water retention DAMMIT and it can make you feel fatter, YES!  And YES there is more of you to grab but it does not mean you got chunky because you eat well and are a health freak and the occasional sugar binge here and there does not an overnight weight gain make and you exercise enough, YES, and MY GOD must I go through this every month?

Yes, do not contradict me for in addition to the bloating I am bleeding to boot.  Yeah, we women bleed and if that bothers you stick-it-where-the-sun-don’t-shine-’cause-there-ain’t-no-sugarcoating-happening-here so let us cut through the bullshit and get over this shit that is oh-tee-hee-’tis-that-time-of-the-month-again-good-golly-gosh and let’s tell it like it is instead… and what it is is that I am bleeding and it bites because even if it doesn’t hurt  all the time or for too long there are moving aches and fatigue involved…

… but I can’t rest because I have two kids who are three and five and the five-year-old?  Bless her sweet soul but MY GOD does she talk and not a simple conversation mind you, no, for she jumps from one line of thought to the next all in one breath as she seriously informs me that by the time she is an eight-year-old she needs to have starred in a movie where her character sings and has her own show and it must be set in San Francisco because San Francisco’s playgrounds are way better than stupid Spain’s she says… crap!  Mental note to not cuss this place out in front of her too much ’cause she has to fit in some, if not completely, but yeah, being a child of mine completely is never going to be a part of the deal I am afraid… and she has to, in her movie, save the Universe because it is in to save the Universe you see as saving the day just does not cut it anymore and did-she-not-tell-me-already-that-she-wants-an-apple-because-she-does-so-where-is-it and why-on-earth-she-always-asks-for-things-as-soon-as-I-sit-down-and-not-when-I-was-in-the-kitchen-two-seconds-ago-beats-her and yes she was fully aware because she was right there with me speaking of her future movie as I gave her the cold water she so desired, again needing to get up to get her that right as I finally sat down after a couple of hours spent on my feet, So no lies and excuses telling me otherwise I say… not that she lies, because she doesn’t… So here is your apple, little girl.  Nothing else you say?  Good! but then she decides, yes as soon as I attempt to sit once more, that she needs to wear her cowboy hat and have a change of outfit with clothes to match her new style but NO say I, I just sat down and am not about to go down and get your clothes for you!  Plus you are about to go swimming which means I will have to change you again and bathe you after that and get you ready for bed after that so I have enough on my plate and ten wardrobe changes a day are not gonna cut it!  So go and sit and do your summer work so you can be ready for the first grade because school starts in a month and I would rather you use your mind rather than watch so much TV and so she is in tears now becase I do not get that she feels like a cowgirl right now and she is angry as she tries to tell me, in her five-year-old lingo, that I stifle her and her urges, and yes she says this sincerely as she stands there before me in her pink clothes that I just helped her wear as before deciding to be a cowgirl she was meant to be barbielicious and… have I mentioned that I am bleeding and tired and so not in the mood for all this shit so DAMN RIGHT I will stifle those creative urges today so [stick them and] go do your [damn] work [GODAMMIT!]

… and the three-year-old?  Well, he is a whole other category of nuts where the simplest request becomes a maddening ordeal of Mami I want green tea with honey he says, So here you go, Son I answer, But no I don’t want it! he screams, when really he does and I try again, So here you go, Son say I and NO! shrieks the boy and so I threaten to never give him water again and he cries and so Here you go! I say and he just runs away and flings himself on the couch and after, oh say, 15 minutes of this he grabs his water and laughs as he walks away and so I sit down thinking I finally get to rest but then the boy is back and he wants candy this time and if saying yes to water took 15 minutes I will spare you what a NO looks like but it isn’t pretty, let me tell you that much, and it often entails yours truly being hit in a fit of rage after many such verbal exchanges similar to the one entailing a mere request for green tea with honey where the YES is now a NO and where the NOs mount into the act that is a slap reserved for bloated-fat-bleeding me which lands the boy in a timeout so after, oh say, 30 minutes the candy is forgotten but then he is hungry and I have a meal prepared but he thinks he should have something else and…  Keep this up for an entire fucking day, which-was-supposed-to-be-spent-at-the-water-park-but-did-I-mention-I-am-bleeding-and-so-yeah-no-go-because-I-prefer-the-clean-bathrooms-at-home-rather-than-the-loose-toilet-seat-pubic-hair-piss-and-maybe-if-you-are-lucky-shit-covered-facilites-available-in-the-world-beyond-my-walls, so yeah, you might be pissed too and ready to pack said three and five-year-olds up into a box and ship them to Timbuktu because giving them to nomadic Gypsies is out of the question as they would surely find me somehow in order to return them to me as soon as possible and…

 … you see,100-degree-it-is-so-maddeningly-hot-here-that-were-I-to-rip-my-skin-off-my-flesh-I-still-would-not-be-satisfied weather can do that to the best of us… and add to that a body that needs waxing… hell, I ain’t sparing you anything today which means you will be told in no uncertain terms and without any shame for there is no shame to what is a mere physical reality that I-am-hairy-and-miserable-as-hair-on-the-body-especially-in-the-damn-armpits-means-nonstop-sweating-which-in-turn-means-I-stink-and-yes-I-have-showered-and-I-use-deodorant-but-the-stink-is-still-there-because-like-I-said-it-is-100-degree-weather-and-none-of-your-business-why-I-haven’t-waxed-yet-but-if-you-must-know-it-is-always-best-to-do-it-right-after-your-period-and-if-you-hadn’t-heard-well-got-some-days-to-go-for-that-to-end-and…. and add to that a woman beneath this mess in need of touch-and-affection-that-are-momentarily-out-of-reach-because-of-bloody-stinky-hairy-reasons in addition to the constant companionship of the above mentioned three and five-year-old bohemians and well…

… let us just say that I am not mother-of-the-year material today and as for good wife material?  HAH!  Like that ever will happen and Loverboy knows better than to try to stick me in the kitchen to cook… and if he didn’t before he damn well does now ’cause it is best to not thank your wife’s chopping help, a-rarity-so-enjoy-it-while-you-can kinda thing, for the Mexican dish you are about to prepare by declaring I shall make a housewife out of you yet! after slapping her on her ass because this wife?  She yells and talks back and she will shriek Are you stupid man?  Do you not see this knife in my hand?  And I will be damned if ever I shall be tamed, in the kitchen of all places!  You are ma bitch!  MA BITCH!  And oh!  One more thing!  Unless I am bent over there is no ass slapping to be had because things jiggle and I shall
be damned, DAMNED I TELL YOU, if I jiggle!  AND IN THE KITCHEN OF ALL PLACES?  BE GONE!  BE GONE!
and she will let you know, in no uncertain terms, that when she bleeds she must just be hailed and revered for the wondrous beauty that she is as a woman, oh-bleeding-stinky-hairy-tired-bitchy-angry-bite-your-balls-off-you-stupid-ridiculous-man-who-complains-about-shaving-when-I-dye-my-grays-which-by-the-way-are-showing-and-FUCK-does-that-piss-me-off-and-wax-half-of-my-entire-damn-body-and-arrive-into-your-grunting-arms-a-silken-smooth-raven-olive-skinned-beauty-yes-I-said-beauty-and-shove-that-choked-laugh-up-your-ass-why-don’t-you-you-low-maintenance-freak woman, and do not think that she is thankful for your cooking because who in their right mind cooks Mexican food, that-you-know-I-will-eat-and-cannot-resist-so-DAMN-YOU-even-more-you-evil-evil-man, for a woman that bleeds and is bloated and…

… yes I know I am skinny but I work my ass off to have a body I like and yes I used to be anorexic but SO WHAT I say, SO WHAT?  And having said that I spit into the faces of all who smile empty, crumbling smiles that are offered me atop a foundation of their heavy-set insecurities that are tossed at my small physique as hush hush tones they think I am blind to, but-pssst-here’s-a-secret-you-stupid-fucks-because-you-see-I-hear-with-my-ears-and-turning-my-back-to-you-does-not-a-deaf-woman-make-of-me, abound when a thin woman dares admit she is having a bad day because it turns out that when you are thin you are not supposed to have any bad days related directly to food and bloating and weight complaints but, and this is a big BUT, I have paid my dues and am entitled to my bad days and normal anger and discomfort at my bloating that resulted in my eating Mexican food because it means that I did not starve myself nor did I double my dose of laxatives in a fit of panic and yes I still battle that laxative dependence but it does not an anorexic make of me, not anymore, and…

… bless Loverboy for acknowledging my bad days and not throwing my physical being in my face and for seeing the girl behind the mask and for the smile on his face as he watches me scarf down the Mexican food and insult him for a fattening-dish-made-at-the-most-inappropriate-time which makes him laugh and smile even more.

Huh.  Turns out it was a good day after all…