Ticket to the Moon

Somewhere, Gail Simmons is cackling madly, finally getting revenge for all those times I made fun of her for being a stuck-up spoiled brat with the personality of a dial tone. I tried a recipe from Food & Wine magazine tonight, and while I’ve had some astonishing culinary success lately (really!), this one absolutely kicked my ass and left the kitchen a smoky mess full of Thai grilled chicken shrapnel and singed grains of rice.

Also, thanks for your comments on Friday’s entry. I stupidly didn’t even allow myself to register that I was even getting into the working mom debate before I launched off, and for that I apologize. Also, it’s worth nothing that while I realize that whenever and however parenthood happens, the best laid plans will be pointless, I need to have a plan in place, no matter how moot, because that’s just how I work. There.

But really, you won’t remember I said any of this, if history is any indication, because are you ready for the news I have for you?

I got my period four days early, and while this is a thousand shades of annoying for a multitude of frustrating reasons, it does mean an early review of the Moon Cup. Oh yes, the Moon Cup again, for the love of all that is holy. For the record, I ended up purchasing a Moon Cup at the local health food store and keeping the erroneously sent Keeper for back up. Because I’m wuss who can’t assert herself to a bunch of menstrual cup zealots and politely explain that I got the wrong item. Nope.

The short version: I love it. The end.

The long version: This love was not without its challenges, although overall it was so much easier than I expected. I anticipated this wild learning curve fraught with hours, days, weeks of pain, leakage and agony, not to mention the torture of insertion. I am happy to report that there isn’t a single ounce of leakage, and once it’s in there, it’s somewhat obvious that it’s not going to happen.

However, insertion? NOT SO FUN, at least at first. There was that one horrible moment where I let go of the fold too soon and it bloomed right on top of my girly bits and there was some shrieking and general freaking out, because there was blood! BLOOD! I’d CUT MYSELF WITH THE MOON CUP. I WAS BLEEDING. And shrieking some more! AND BLEEDING!

Well, um…duh.

To insert, I folded it in half, then in half again, and that was just fine. I didn’t need to go for some sort of wild origami fold or any of the fancy-dancy artistic folds I kept reading about. And it’s a good thing, because if I’m doing origami, I’m making a dove or maybe an elephant, not a menstrual cup.

I’ll also say that the rubber stem was a bit of an issue at first, and I made the mistake of inserting the little sucker right before taking the dog on a long walk, and all I could feel was this godawful rubber stem twirling around down there and I just wanted to cut it right off, but as it turned out, I was simply in need of an…adjustment. So don’t go scissor-happy, is what I’m saying. Try it a few times first. Certainly if it’s jamming out like a pole between your legs and it’s visible through your pants, for God’s sake, cut it off, but if it’s just a minor awareness, try moving it around a little to see where it falls.

And finally, oh holy God, the removal. THE REMOVAL. I won’t even go into the emptying issues, except to say that they are pretty much non-existent and the whole thing was a piece of cake to remove and empty and whatever, God, let me just move on. However, the whole “seal” thing that someone brought up? THERE IS A SEAL, AND LO, IT IS SUCTIONY. Do not, for the love of all that is holy, just go tugging on the stem, because you will break the seal and there will be this giant “THWAP!” and you will be convinced, if you’re anything like me, that you have just given yourself an at-home hysterectomy, such is the vacuum-like power of the Moon Cup. So please, gently push on the side of the cup part, THEN pull. Don’t just pull. I’ll say it again: DO NOT JUST PULL OH HOLY SUCTION.

I also cannot stop taking it out and putting it back in, because I’m not totally convinced that I only need to do it twice a day, however, this is possibly the least necessary thing I’ve done in a long time. One ounce is a lot, and for me to fill it, I have a sinking feeling it would mean I was hemorrhaging to death.

In other news, that plate of crow I had for dinner was totally awesome.

And because this may be the last time I’ll get to use the twirling image of The Keeper. Whoo hoo!

*ELO

27 comments April 1st, 2007