Moondance

Whoa.

I’ve never seen anything quite like the past two days around these parts, and let me just say, I wish I did every day, because y’all are funny. In fact, I’ve never seen funnier people in my entire life, because seriously? The pendulum swing of the tampon? Wicking the poo to the who?

Please, I implore you, re-read those comments, because I’ve never seen funnier people, and for the love of God, don’t miss Diva Cup fan Clare’s Ode to the Cup. The cup, it moves people to poetry.

I’m beside myself, and while I draw the line at Jonniker-branded menstrual cups, I will fully admit, right here right now, in a public forum that I ordered the Moon Cup. Why the Moon Cup, you ask? Because I’m entirely with Swistle in that I cannot, just cannot wear anything that asks me to identify as a diva, and for chrissake, is TRADEMARKED as a diva-like entity. And winterwheat got me with the whole boiling/peroxide/porous thing with The Keeper, not to mention the germy tampon strings (GAAK). And it’s BROWN. So, ah, Moon Cup it is. And because you’ve all been on this…journey with me, I shall report back right around this time next month, and those of you who said you were trying it? I expect the same. Same place, same time next month. Be there or be…leaky.

And I just don’t know where to go from there. It seems sort of futile to go anywhere, as it’s all downhill from here, and I can’t help but think that you’ll all go there anyway, but the well may be dry. But really, Pattie deserves some kind of prize, because yesterday was the first time she came here, my sweet holy God.

Moving on! While I realize this will prompt nothing but a legion of tiny violins, tomorrow we head off for Pennsylvania, and we’re flying into Newark, and there is going to be snow. A WINTRY MIX, I hear, that should turn to heavy snow by tomorrow night, and I’m not pleased. For the first time in my whole life, I have managed to avoid winter completely for an entire year, and enjoy perpetual summer, and it seems wholly and entirely unfair that it’s almost spring, and I’m flying into a giant snowstorm on a plane that doesn’t have TVs. I call bullshit.

For the vast majority of today, my Weight Watchers-addled self would have gleefully sliced off my right nipple in exchange for a vanilla buttercream cupcake. Am I the only one whose Starbucks started carrying Cheesecake Factory products, including buttercream cupcakes and chocolate molten cakes? To say nothing of those goddamn cheesecakes that I don’t even like, yet they beckon to me. I like cheesecake, I just don’t like Cheesecake Factory cheesecake, because while it may their primary purpose, it’s sucky cheesecake and way too creamy, like cheesecake-flavored Cool Whip and not in a good way.

But! I persevered, in no small part due to catching a reflection of my whale-like sweaty self lumbering along while toting an ungodly amount of camera equipment after coming off of an assignment and GOD. Thus, I attempted to sate myself with a non-fat, no-sugar latte, which still netted me three goddamn points and zero satisfaction, because if you give me a razor, I’ll hand you the nipple, and you give me the cupcake. Sometimes it’s a grind, man.

Have a great weekend. I, for one, will be stranded in some frozen, wintry tundra wishing, just wishing, dammit, that it wasn’t so damn cold. And maybe dreaming of the day my Moon Cup arrives. Or not.

*Van Morrison.

28 comments March 15th, 2007