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Monday, March 21, 2011

Body Appreciation: ATTACK OF THE UTERUS

As you can probably tell by your tired eyeballs, sore feet and/or back, and urge for a gin and tonic, it's not Sunday. It is Monday. Yesterday was so fine and quiet and calm that I mostly didn't use my computer all day--I napped and cooked and read and watched a movie, and forgot that I normally use Sundays to heap love all over usually-unloveable body parts.

So. It's Monday. And I am putting off homework (as usual), so let's talk about uteri. Last month, I reviewed the reusable cloth pads I got from Party In My Pants; this month, I have more to report on! I picked up some GladRags brand cloth pads from the local hippie store and have been trying them out this week. They're definitely on par with the PIMP pads (gosh, and I do love these names. PIMP is a great acronym, and GladRags reminds me of Harry Potter :B): soft cotton flannellette in a variety of shades, lengths, and thicknesses. There is one major difference--the GladRags day and night pads come with absorbent inserts which you can change out without having to change the pad itself. Handy! I like the GladRags pads as well as the PIMP ones. I have been especially impressed with both brands' absorbency and the utter lack of odor issues. Both also feature a handy snap which keeps the pads in place and allows you to fold up and secure used pads if you're out and about and not near your hamper.

That said, let us move onto the uterus itself. Now, I don't have much use for my uterus as yet. I don't have plans to have any children and generally menstruation is a nuisance. During this month's bout of first-day cramps, I was considering the possibility of a uterus transplant. Surely some lady somewhere really wants to have a baby and needs a good sturdy uterus! Mine is nothing if not sturdy, although it is also somewhat capricious (Aunt Flo was a week late this month for no apparent reason). However, that doesn't seem quite viable and so I am left with no other choice but to revel in my baby-maker and its moods. Honestly, I'm in a much better place now with regard to my womb creature and its cycles than I used to be. A good chunk of that is derived from ditching the nas-tay plastic-and-cardboard of the patriarchy for my cute little Divacup and cozy cloth pads. I suppose I should have put a Dirty Hippie disclaimer on this post, shouldn't I? At any rate, there is much to be said for not forking over $15 a month to replace tampons and disposable pads--my equipment is happier and the earth is too.

I now spend most of That Week coming up with fun euphemisms. This time around I've been trying to formulate a proper Doctor Who reference (since I like to call my junk the "velvet TARDIS" anyway, it only seems fitting). The best I could figure is: "The Master's turned the TARDIS into a Paradox Machine."

So bleed away, uterus thing. I've got my snuggly clothes and durable cup, and I can outlast you even if the Dalek apocalypse comes.

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