I've had this problem my entire life.
I will write down in my journal, diary, blog, whatever, the events of my day. "I did this, then this, and I am happy/sad/angry/lonely/loved/full/tired/WHATEVER" but then not go into the beauty, poetry, details of my day.
And so, today, I'll tell you some small details, because the small is what makes up the big.
FOREWARNING: The next bit is a little feminist, a little "bloody" and if you don't want to read about my menstrual cycle, stop reading now. I'll mark the next section, period-free, for you.
This morning, I woke up a few times with that cold burn in my groin that is commonly referred to as
cramps. But "cramps" is just such a simple word for something so unbearable.
"I have cramps," says, to me, "I have a small pain that women deal with, all the time, it's no big deal, but just so you know, I have a CRAMP."
Cramps are like a hot curling iron, twisting your uterus into balloon animals and then forcing it to squeeze out fluid, meant to hold a child, and having the fluid tear the walls of your uterus apart. Every month, we go through this, skinning of our organs, and we make it through, every time. And every single time this week arrives, I think, "Goddamn, I forgot how much this sucks."
So, when I say
cramps, I mean... Well, you know now.
*OKAY, YOU CAN START READING AGAIN NOW, MENSTRUAL-FEARING FOLK:
This morning, I woke up with cramps. I moved around some to find a comfortable position and snuggled into Daniel's chest, which is totally, completely my favorite place to be. Ever. When we lived with his family, laying on his chest was the only private place I felt I had. It is where I talked to my partner, listened to his heart and lungs- the things that keep him alive and loving me- and where I cried when I missed my family and friends, when I felt like we were stuck in that awful situation. Daniel's chest is where I go at the end of every day and rest my everything. That is where I spent the first moments of my day. Sometimes, he will be somewhat awake when I first start moving around, and some of
those times, like this morning, he will wrap his arms around me and hug me while he goes back to sleep. That is what makes our house a home. Daniel.
So we get up. I start boiling water for my coffee in the teapot he bought me this week, and he goes in the shower while I check my email.
Does anyone else do this? Call it "email" when really, you mean, "Facebook, Gmail, all my webcomics, my blog for comments/views, my networks, Craigslist, all the blogs I follow," etc.? Well, I checked my "email" and he came out in his little boxer briefs.
"Hello, handsome." He hears this more than he should, really. I'm going to inflate his ego.
I ask him what he wants for breakfast and he says cereal. He gets the bag of store-brand cereal out and I get him a bowl and the milk, which I spill. We get the organic stuff that has cream on the top, which you stir into the milk, and when I broke through the cream, the milk went everywhere. Daniel made a comment about it ejaculating on me, and then noticed that my fortune cookie from last night said, "You look pretty :)." He then mentioned how our food is getting frisky with me and that it was no fortune, just a fact. Awww.
I put together a lunch for him and told him to stop spending so much money on going out for lunch ($200/month). That if he bought lunch at work today, he would be wasting our groceries AND his money. He put a sandwich in the bag. I complained that I will have to clean the entire house by myself today and how unhappy I was about that, so he did a few dishes. That was a nice gesture, but I meant sweeping, mopping, scrubbing down the counters/stovetop, organizing the spare room, changing the sheets on the sofabed in our living room, etc.
I appreciate his help with things like that, but I wish he'd do more, and without me asking. Nothing ever gets done unless I ask him to do it.
Sigh.
This Thursday is his grandmother's birthday. We are expected to be there for whatever awful restaurant she chooses (there are some we cannot go to because she makes racist remarks to the waiters). I am betting: a buffet (she's old AND severely obese,
loves buffets), Rita's ("Chili Relleno, extra rice, NO BEANS!") or Marie Calendar's (where they have one vegetarian option- the alfredo. Man, I hate chains).
I mean, it's her birthday, so she can choose whatever she wants, I'm just not looking forward to going. She always tells him, "I feel like I'm losing you! You never visit!" We have been living on our own for just over a month and we've seen them more than once a week, which I do not enjoy. She will complain about something, say we're ignoring her, tell us she wants to give us money because she doesn't want us to "go without," and tell me she likes my shoes. Yes, she compliments me, and I am always gracious and tell her thank you, and I make small talk with her, but... See, I don't like spending time with my own grandparents (only two of them are alive and one has Alzheimer's- I love her very much, but she just doesn't exist anymore, and one is a pain in the ass). I'm not close with my family and I think it's weird that Daniel's mother and grandmother are so prevalent in his life- especially since he couldn't care less about if they are or not. He loves his family, but he doesn't want them in our business 24/7.
They also think that we're
theirs. Instead of me having any family at all (no, I'm not too close with them, but I'm close with my father and I still care about my mother, but I'm okay with not seeing them too often), they are under the impression that we will spend every holiday with them and that we will never leave this awful, piece of shit town. Very frustrating. We plan on moving to LA, Seattle or maybe somewhere farther within the next year and a half. I wouldn't mind going home to Portland. Man, I love that place.
Anyway, now that I have shared some personal details, some ranting, and my coffee is cold, I'm gonna publish this posting.
See y'all later.
<3
