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We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming…so that I can talk about my period. Guys, don’t be candy asses and go “eww.” Only gays are exempt from this conversation. The thing about periods is…they fuckin’ suck. (And no, I’m not on-the-rag at the moment, but just writing about my menstrual flow makes me furious, hateful, and in desperate need of spaghetti and chocolate.) It’s hard to imagine that once upon a time, like Judy Blume’s Margaret, I actually wished for the thing. Oh please Lord, make bloody chunks of my uterus fall out once a month so that I can wear a diaper or a tiny cotton penis with a string all day long like a real woman! Periods are messy. Periods are smelly (except to dogs, who think bloody tampons are filet mignon). Periods prevent you from getting a perfect score on your computer science exam because they max out your so-called maxi-pad after an hour and make you spend the rest of your exam time in the girls’ bathroom scrubbing the blood out of your acid-washed jeans with those brown paper towels that disintegrate into tiny granules the moment they get wet and yes, I’m still bitter about it.
Uh, where was I? Oh right, periods suck. So when I read this morning that Japanese comedienne Naomi Matsushima has designed pads printed with stars and camo so that “women could pass their menstrual period more happily,” I very nearly booked a flight to Japan just so I could find Naomi and punch her in the boob.
Naomi, you and I both know that there is no way to pass your menstrual period “more happily.” You can pass your menstrual period without ramming your Volvo into that douchebag’s Escalade who stole your parking spot at the mall. You can pass your menstrual period without bitch-slapping a stranger who looks at you sideways in a bar. You can pass your menstrual period without totally kicking in your boyfriend’s balls so that he’s unable to father children in the future. Is that the definition of happiness? If so, then we are in agreement. If not, I can only conclude that you’ve never gotten your period nor do you have a uterus and you are, in fact, an incredibly life-like robot that sad pervs looking for artificial companionship would gladly throw their money at because, among other things, they’ll never have to deal with the “eww” of your unhappy menstrual period.
On Thursday, college student Aliza Shvarts told the Yale Daily News that she had artificially inseminated herself and then induced abortions over the course of nine months for her senior art project.
“I hope it inspires some sort of discourse,” she said.
After everyone on the internet fuh-reaked out over it, Yale officials quickly issued a statement claiming Shvarts’ project was a hoax, “a creative fiction” and “performance art.”
Today, however, Shvarts wrote in the YDN that the art project was real, although she couldn’t confirm whether or not she ever got pregnant.
“On the 28th day of my cycle, I would ingest an abortifacient, after which I would experience cramps and heavy bleeding.
…this performance piece has numerous conceptual goals. The first is to assert that often, normative understandings of biological function are a mythology imposed on form…
…it is a myth that ovaries and a uterus are meant to birth a child.”
What?!? Boy do we feel duped. Goddamn you, “biology”!!!
One thing’s for certain. Aliza really got us discoursing, alright. And we feel for the girl. Heavy-flow periods are a bitch, and the attendant mood swings–they make us crazier than a bag of squirrel dicks. Which is why we don’t blame her for staining her favorite pair of white pants and mistaking it for “art.” Nor do we think she’s really responsible for being so fucking annoying and pretentious. Girlfriend’s been through a lot, and what she needs now is some dark chocolate, a box of Super Plus Tampax, and a fistful of Midol.