Reconciling Saints

Have you ever heard of those women that get PMS so bad, that they have a note from their doctor that basically states that they are not responsible for their words or actions? Or maybe even a note that allows them to stay home around that time? I had a friend tell me something like this once. Not that she had it, but that she knew a girl with this problem. I found it hard to believe but then again, I've always been told that the body, a woman's body especially, can do some really weird shit.

Up until about 2 years ago, I was on birth control pills. I had taken them for 15 years or so. I rarely got a period, had it last about 2 days if I did get one, didn't have any cramps and got only a little emotional before it came on.

Well, I can tell you that things SURE have changed since then. Aside from the obvious (lasts longer and OUCH the cramps!), my PMS symptoms have, as of late, made me wonder if I need a doctor's note. I even have a really good example right here on my blog!

Everyone turn to the post The Nightmare Book, dated June 27th in your hymnal.

Anyway, that post was on a Mean Reds day when the best thing to do with me is take me to a bar and drag me home when I'm nice and drunk. Like... d-RUNK! On days like that, I can't see my way out of anything. I've fallen into a deep pit and it's very dark and very deep. I was up 'til 2am on June 27th 'cause 1994 had called and brought Tori Amos CDs with it. Yeah, that bad.

The next day, my period hit and I thought, "OH! Well that explains it all!"


I talked to my psychiatrist because she wants me to keep her informed on my moods The usual litany of questions have to be answered - have you been depressed? How depressed? How long does it last? Have you been sleeping? What's enough? Do you want to sleep? So last time I went, I told her about the Mean Reds that I finally figured out was my version of PMS. She gave me a prescription for my old anti-depressant, celexa.

Yes ladies and gents, I now actually believe that that girl that I'd heard stories about, the one that turns into Mr. Hyde right before her period, really can and does exist. Also, she might be me.

I know it's not exactly 28 days later... huh... wait... Do you think that that's why they titled the movie that? I mean, blood, everyone's scared, monsters... Seems like this idea might not be too far fetched.

MOVING ON!

I'm trying to be more observant of the days and of any tells that I may have and I'm pretty sure... despite that it's 4 or so days short of 28... I'm pretty sure I'm right about there. Existential crisis? Check! Can't find anything to do with my life? Check! Working on my writing proving useless? Check! Missing my friends and thinking they're better off without me and better than me? Check!

However, now that I'm armed with a little more info and I know the tells (see post, June 27th), I think I'm ready to take it head on.

I have wine, dark chocolate m & m's, Belgian chocolate pudding and lots of yummy snacks. I also have House, a few books if none of them are doing it for me/ making matters worse and a bath.

I'll let you know how it goes.

I used to write really long posts, especially when I was stuck at my parents' due to The Fiasco.


I remember reading somewhere that people can't/don't really pay much attention to a post/article that's too long if it's on the internet.


With that being said I give you this post:




Today I noticed that on the dean's calendar, she had marked a spot to play polo after work on Friday (she uses her Outlook calendar for personal stuff too 'cause it syncs with her iPhone and iPad). She marked it simply as POLO.
...
It took everything in me not to "schedule" a spot simply titled "MARCO" for the hour before it.




Now, here are a couple of pictures to also hold your interest and help this post.

When I lived with my friends in the days before anyone got married or moved away (or both), we had an Alfred Hitchcock standee that was just a silhouette, much like the one at the beginning of every Alfred Hitchcock Presents. It was about about... 5'2" tall, give or take a few inches and it looked quite life-like.

Whenever my best friend or I got home and opened the door, it invariably scared the shit out of us before we turned on the light. It looked just like there was a man standing in our kitchen what with the faint light coming from the hallway through the door at one of the apartments we'd had. Some of the spots we'd place him in other apartments or houses didn't always get this reaction. However, no matter when or where, there was always some point that good old Alfred would end up giving one of us a scare.

At one place, our landlord/upstairs neighbor's wife, Charmagne, told us a story upon meeting Alfred, our standee.

"He was a horrible man with a sick sense of humor," Charmagne said as soon as she saw him.

"Did you know him?"

"I was on the lot and he drove toward us in his car. He stopped, looked at me and then sped up heading right for me! I ran and yelled and he just slowed down and continued on his way past me, laughing!"

I don't know if he ever had really known or met Charmagne, or if he had only seen her and decided how he felt. Maybe it was just a test of his. Dunno. Personally, I thought it was funny and that Alfred Hitchcock must have been quite a man to know. Knowing Charmagne in the limited way that I did, I think his actions may have been called for, even if just for a good chuckle. He sounded like a great guy, in my opinion.