Its a Wild(en) World

So, recently I’ve been hit with a couple of thoughts. 

1.) Why is coffee so good?
2.) But where can I get a large fountain diet coke at this hour?
3.) WHY DOES BEING A WOMAN SUCK SO HARD?

Now 1-2 are pretty standard and easily answered.

1.) Because its magic.
2.) Boyfriend, take me to 7-11 STAT!

However, 3 is not so easily answered. In fact, there are plenty of books attempting to answer this question. So many of the books. I can’t give you an academic reason for why it sucks.

But I can tell you what prompted this thought. 

I tend to get chronic migraines. I realized they are probably hormonal so I went to my OBGYN. Who promptly told me in a thick Pittsburghese accent, “Oh, people with migraines shouldn’t be on birth control.”

To which I replied,

“Uh, chawhat now?”

She then wrote a new prescription. The medical jargon to this doesn’t actually matter. What matters is I got a new prescription so I could prevent the babies from growing inside me and to stop my head from feeling probably like how Lindsey Lohan’s head always feels. 

Then SUDDENLY (and by suddenly mean..about a month or two later),

I began crying spontaneously.

I began getting suddenly and irrationally angry. 

Now, let’s talk about this for a second. 

In order to prevent yourself from having an unwanted creature living in your insides, you have to take a this tiny little pill every day, where if you drop it its like finding a needle in a hay stack. This pill could then fuck with your hormones so that you are about as in control of you tear ducts as a Belieber. 

“Don’t worry,” says the pill, “You’re looking at a profile picture of your best friend in the middle of a crowded building. I think now is the time to blubber about how lovely of human she is and how beautiful she looks, even though you just intended to post a funny YouTube video on her wall.”

Now, this instance prompted this response in my brain,

JESUS CHRIST, IF ONLY I HAD A PENIS.

Because if I was a dude, it would be impossible for me to have tiny human rent my uterus for 9 months. 

Because if I was a dude, the doctor would have just given me migraine medicine.

Because if I was a dude, I would be able to pee standing up (this is an unrelated thought…I just think it’s luxury…That I want.)

So I’m having these thoughts, walking down the street, with my headphones blaring. And then I realized something:

A dude wears headphones because he wants to listen to Fun. on his way to work.

I wear headphones so that I never have to hear what dirty thought that guy decided to share with me as I wait for the bus was.

Now, this seems unfair to me. Why can’t I just enjoy music? Why does it have to be defense mechanism against weirdos?

And this makes me feel all of the feelings. I just want to be a human. A person. I don’t want to be some sort of product on display. I don’t want to be a machine that has to be temporarily altered from doing its job so other parts malfunction.

I don’t know where these thoughts leave us. I don’t have solutions for this. I don’t know how to fix the pill. I don’t know how to make men look at women as people. I don’t know.

What I do know is that I’m going to continue to listen to my music. And I’m going to continue dealing with birth control. I’m going to continue enjoying things that many others didn’t or still don’t enjoy. And hope that even further in the future, other people will enjoy freedoms I didn’t get to take advantage of. 

Maybe someday, everyone will be able to pee standing up.

Dear likely to be lonely human,

First off I want to say,

“No.”

Just to be clear. You yelled some sort of vulgar question, and I say,

“Nope.”

Second, I sometimes get the urge to yell to. Look, we have something in common.

Normally, its when I see a cute pug walking down the street. What I want to do is yell,

“Holy fuck, I want to take that pug and squeeze his face and then dress him in a yoda costume.”

But instead, I suppress these feelings because they are rude and also not everyone on the street needs to hear my thoughts. In fact, most people do not want to hear your thoughts. They have their own thoughts they are thinking and they would prefer if your thoughts didn’t interrupt their thoughts they politely kept silent in their brainboxes. Thoughts. 

Now lets talk about your view on women. Women are not like Burberry window mannequins. Women are people, humans. So while you may walk by that mannequin and go,

DAMN MANNEQUIN YOU WORK THAT BURBERRY PLAID.

When you see a woman, just think and don’t stare…because that makes everybody uncomfortable. No one knows what to do with prolonged staring. Are you going to kill me? That’s normally my first question at a prolonged starer. So you know.

Also I can’t read thoughts and most women can’t read thoughts. Maybe some can. I don’t want to speak for every woman on the reading thoughts matter.

Truly, I’m not asking you to suppress your thoughts. That’s impossible. Things happen in your brain. I understand. 

Really, all I am asking is that you think the thought and just don’t say it aloud. I can’t tell you are misogynistic pig when you don’t say your misogynistic piggish thoughts out loud. Instead, I’ll look at you and think,

Oh, he’s riding a bike. How eco-friendly.

Instead of thinking

You fucking asshole. If I wasn’t afraid of spilling my Chai Latte, I would kick your pimply ass to the ground, son!

And I’m assuming these are not the thoughts you were hoping to evoke in me. So its really a lose-lose for both of us. 

Sincerely,

Girl with the Chai Latte and untied boots you just yelled at…lets say a half hour ago.

Dear users of the Interwebs,

Please stop clogging my newsfeed with your lives.

Its not that I don’t care about you.

Well, wait, let me clarify that.

I care about some of you, others I find funny and you know what, I’m just going to say, some of you I didn’t like you in high school and I’m really just hoping to check your facebook one day and see that you have been hit with karmic weight gain. 

Let’s remember the difference between mundane and exciting. You ordered food from your computer? Did you time travel from the 1970s and this new groovy technology is new to you? No? Then everyone has done it and no one cares about your pad thai. But if you ordered that food and then it was delivered by your dead grandma, I want to hear about it. But please 150 letters or less, you’re not the President. 

On that note, if you find the need to post on Facebook a status thats more than a one sentence, think “If I died right now, would this paragraph on how I feel about T.Swift being a possibility for the role of Eponine in Les Mis be engraved on my tombstone?” If the answer is yes, you might belong in an institution. If the answer is no, delete it and make some clever sarcastic comment on someone else’s lengthy overthought Les Mis themed status. 

Also if I’m going to be honest, I just don’t understand FourSquare and “checking in” and might just be too paranoid about serial killers to constantly let people know of my whereabouts on the WORLD wide web so they can find me eat my hair, cut off my toes and wear my skin as a hat. Or something else of the sorts. I haven’t thought about it much. 

So please consider this so I can enjoy cat and sloth videos in peace.