My uterus woke me up at 4:30 this morning to talk about how excited it was to be expelling its old lining. It’s a new start! it said, I’ll feel fresh and sparkly – like all this cleaning you’ve been doing!

It’s really unfortunate that my uterus only speaks to me in Painful Crampish. I’m quite tired today.

  • I’m thinking of getting a nice USB headset and doing all my telephonage via Skype, which will (in theory) route in and out of real phones for a fraction of the cost of a proper phone line (mobile or otherwise). If anyone knows of a compelling reason to do otherwise, speak now, or speak later, or keep meaning to speak but put it off until eventually you get hit by a bus and I cry tears of sadness!
  • After my exceptionally pleasant experience with Caltech’s hybrid frat-coop-dorm Houses, I felt almost non-estranged from the concept of sororities in general. But now I’m living on Frat Row, during Rush Week; every three hours or so, the house across the street bursts out cheering:

    Something something cutest girls
    Something something we wear pearls
    Look how we charmingly abbreviate the names of Greek letters! Rah!

    And, y’know, I’m sure it’s all harmless fun once you get past the creepy stereotypes embedded in the lyrics, but I just can’t imagine myself chanting like that and then taking myself seriously ever again. People! They’re so different sometimes, what’s that all about, eh?


  1. Sabine wrote:

    My uterus speaks Painful Crampish fluently. I wish it would shut up already.
    My sister was a bowhead, and I actually stayed with her for a few days in her sorority house when I was a wee 12 years old (some kind of little sisters social function thingy). I’ve had a strong aversion to sororities ever since. Those people scare me, with there matchy shirts and all. I can only imagine some kind of “Resistance is Futile, you WILL be Assimilated” plot behind it all.

  2. wolfa wrote:

    Is there a uterus which does not speak Painful Crampish? Mine is very fluent, but since I do not speak it, it talks to me for a few days every month, louder and louder, hoping I will understand it eventually.
    True story! My (single sex) school had houses (like in Harry Potter!), and mine was called Cramp, colour red.

  3. yami wrote:

    Supposedly there are hippie uteruses that speak Flowery Mother Moon Language or something.

  4. Rana wrote:

    Not mine. When it’s not speaking Crampish, it utters low whining moans.
    Supposedly there is rushing going on here, even as we speak. I am very glad I’m not the one going to campus every day!

  5. Amanda wrote:

    Painful Crampish! Thank you for a much-needed laugh.
    (I had the Crampish dialogue this week too. We must all be on the same cycle, or very near it. Too weird!)

  6. melissa wrote:

    Five years later, I’m still using the wording of this post to describe my cycle. Too perfect.

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