january 31
imagine me, with a maxi pad stuck to my head or something. go on. you should. you'll feel better about things.
A reader once sent me a fairly snotty piece of email when I wrote about the note I'd gotten on my car about my monthly being due, and how it reminded me about the scene in 16 Candles where they all show up at the church and the mother says "her monthly bill came early." He wrote something like "it's always SO hilarious when women talk about their period!" This wasn't mail from someone I'd never heard from before, I mean, he'd written to me a lot in the past (and several times since...) but nothing that was quite this obnoxious. I keep a fairly well read online journal. I welcome opionions (as long as they're the same as mine, of course) and most of the time it's all good, you know? An exchange of information. For whatever reason, this particular email rubbed me entirely the wrong way. I can't remember how I answered, but hey, dude, if you're reading right now, you might want to go do something else and come back another day, because this entry is going to be all gross and yucky period talk. Get out your Tonka Trucks or Lincoln logs and wander back to your youth or whatever.
The fact that a guy sent such an email to me, I think, is part of the problem everyone seems to have about women and menstruation. I got to thinking about this because a few weeks ago, I was at the store and I needed to buy tampons. I hunted around on the shelves until I found a box, called, something or other portables. Have you seen the commercial? The premise is that you're an on-the-go woman, and you don't want to carry a purse and these tampons are so wee, you can hide 'em in your hand or slip them into the back pocket of your ultra low riders to spare yourself what would undoubtedly be the soul crushing embarrassement of a GUY seeing the telltale white wrapper sticking out of your pocket. "Look, everyone!!" he'd cry "So and so is ON THE RAG!!" Of course, you'd crumple into a heap on the floor, bleeding and crying because it was the tragedy of the century. Then, you'd have to quit your job because everyone would know that you--a woman--gets your period. Oh, the horror.
Anyhow, since there was a need for me, at the time, to get the tampons, and there was really no other alternative, I did. I don't particularly care whether or not they're tiny enough for me to transport them, secret-file like, in my EAR or whatver, I just cared that they were THERE, and they'd do the job. They filled (heh, heh) an immediate need. When I got back to work and opened the package (not so secretly, either) at my desk, I was amused to discover that the product--the one they'd been touting as the STEALTHIEST TAMPONS IN TOWN (note: not actual marketing campaign, but I'm considering having it trademarked, so don't get any ideas) were encased in a plastic NEON GREEN wrapper. So much for discreet. I did what I always do: I put it in my pocket.
Fast forward a few weeks. I was in the bathroom, and after I finished up, went over to the sinks to wash my hands. My friend (who'd actually asked, when I told her about this journal, if any of my readers wanted to meet a nice woman. Heh. I'm pro setting her up, so, let me know if you want more details) Gwen walked up to the sink next to me. In her hand? A container of FDS wipes. If you're a woman, you likely know what FDS is. For the uninitiated, FDS=Feminine Deoderant Spray. Wipes, I suppose are self-explanatory. They're wipes. In any case, Gwen washed her hands, picked up the box of wipes, and we walked out in the hall together, her clutching the box and waving it around as she talked.
"Dude! FDS!! Why?" "Because you know, it makes me feel cleaner.."Neither she nor I are quiet, so our walk and talk created some stir around the halls. Lisa, in another lab, looked from gwen to her hand and said "Gwen! Not very subtle, are you?!"
It went on for a few minutes longer, our discussion of FDS (which I've never used. Please, let's not get started on a "women smell bad" tagent. Women who don't wash smell bad. Or, heh, so I've heard. I am not a champion muff diver, so have no basis for comparison. I don't use it because no one has ever complained, plus, I don't think it's all that healthy. People have smells. Guys have smells too. That's part of the sexual attraction of humans, and that is really all I've got to say on the subject.) and feminine hygene products, in general. She uses them because they make her feel more secure, I guess, that there's not some odor creeping out from her netherparts. I totally respect that. I MORE respect that she didn't try and stuff the package into her pocket to hide from people as she walked down the hall.
The idea that there's a worldwide market for products that hide the fact that you're toting some sort of period paraphenalia is funny to me. Seriously, think about it. ALL WOMEN between certain ages get their periods. Every last one of them. I do. You, reading now? If you are a woman, you get yours, too. It happens. You deal with it, you move on. You don't let it stop you from DANCING or going swimming or riding a horse, do you? Nosiree! You're modern! The idea, then, that you'd need a camouflaged tampon ("It's INVISIBLE to all men! Only other women can see it!") because having one in your hand means that everyone will know, isn't that just a little archaic? A little degrading?
Be rest assured that if guys got their periods, they'd NEVER hide the fact. They'd march proudly to the shitter, proclaiming to all who'd listen: "I gotta change a TAMPON, yep, I'm sure bleeding like CRAZY today, and boy, do my OVARIES ACHE. Know what'd cure that? Some HOT SEX!" Tampon manufacturers would make holders that men could wear around their necks. You'd go to meetings with guys, and they'd be swinging the fucking things around. They'd decorate with GLITTER. They'd make them light up! (homing tampons, hah!) They'd yell into the phone "Bill?! BILL?! You there?! You got a PAD? Yeah! I didn't expect to get it today!"
This is the dicotomy of men and women. It's what's expected of us, to be ashamed of our bodies and what they do, because the simplest facts of biology make some men uncomfortable. I am here to tell you! Women! Don't hide that tampon! Don't cover that pad in a neutral colored carrying case! Hold it in your hand, it's yours! You have your period. It's not CANCER, for christ's sake. It's not going to bite anyone, so don't you go out of your way for even one minute about how it'll look if someone sees you holding it. You'll look like a woman, exactly right.