Every three months or so, I fall apart. Not a lot - just a little widgie bit. Normally, My Womanly Miracle is uneventful, with nary a cramp or twinge or tear; then, suddenly, the red bitch goddess whomps me hard upside the head and my emotional IQ plummets to pre-teen levels. I am aware of this, as is my darling love. He humours me, and I try to keep myself in check with various home remedies.
One of my favorite home remedies is Titanic. Every third Womanly Miracle I lock my doors, turn my ringer off, snug in under a blankie and watch Jack and Rose's doomed romance play out. It's a total bawl fest, and very healing. I love every little cliched moment of Titanic. Okay, except for when they're doing it in the car and her hand smacks against the window and slides down through the steam. Like, it's their first time - I seriously doubt he's giving it to her THAT good. She'd have to be on her knees for this to work and there's not much room in that back seat...though she could be on her belly, but then wouldn't we see him through the window? Are they on the floor or something? Anyway.
I'm on the couch, blanketed, watching Jack dance with Rose atop a table at the lower deck party, and I'm sobbing of course, because I know that they're doomed; the ship will start to sink and she will save him, then a bunch of running about and mutual saving happens, then he will save her with a floating door or something, then he'll freeze and die and she'll steal a whistle from a corpse and live and start a whole new life and get old and throw a very expensive necklace off a boat and then die, warm in her bed, and finally she'll return to Titanic and to Jack because he was her one true love, even though she got married and had kids and a life with some other guy and she only knew Jack for a few days when she was, like, a teenager but what does it matter, because true love is magical especially when it's doomed. Sigh.
I'm watching this and I'm thinking about my darling love, a rough-around-the-edges type like Jack. He would absolutely throw me on top of a floating armoire, or whatever Jack puts Rose on when the boat goes down, and give his life for mine. And I would absolutely let him. I would let him give his life for me. This realization makes me feel selfish, and I weep for my wretched, shrivelled soul. Then I think of all the people bobbing in the water with no-one to throw them on to a floating anything, and I bawl even harder. Then I realize I am totally alone in the world and that one day I will die, probably of some rare, hideous cancer or the ebola virus, and what have I done? Who am I? What does it all mean? I press pause, and hit speed dial.
"Hey babe," he answers.
"Hi," I sniff.
"What's wrong? Are you crying? Awwww."
"No-one's ever really loved me," I say.
He pauses. "Uh...I love you,"
"Well yeah YOU, but who else?"
Another pause. "Umm..."
"If we were on a boat..."
"Oh, it's your Womanly Miracle time." I hear faint gunshots start up in the background, possibly a helicopter. Sounds like Battle of Midway, 1942. It won't be the first time I've lost him to Xbox warfare.
"If my insides liquified and leaked out of my orifices, would you still think I was pretty?" This isn't going as well as I'd hoped.
"Babe, I love you. I just gotta asspedo* this boat and I'll be over later to give you hugs and kisses. Okay?"
Now it's my turn to pause. "Asspedo?"
"Bye babe." Click.
Well that sucked. My Womanly Miracle is in full swing and I can't even drag him down into emotional immaturity with me. Irritated, I hit the kitchen looking for an outlet. Nothing. Not a drop of junk food. So rather than drag my red-eyed, petulant, soon-to-be-dead self to the store for some chocolate, I made these:
- Melt a few spoonfuls of coconut oil in the microwave, radiation be damned.
- Dump some cocoa powder in and blend.
- Whomp in a few spoonfuls of whatever nut butter is in the cupboard (almond hazelnut, in this case) and mix furiously.
- Crush a bunch of nuts (for me, cashews) and chuck them in along with some dessicated unsweetened coconut. Add enough to make the mixture thick and chunky.
- Dribble some honey in, and whatever other sweeteners you have (I used liquid stevia) to taste.
- Schlomp spoonfuls of this stuff onto parchment paper and stick it in the fridge til it hardens, about 10 minutes or so.
- Eat and feel better while Rose promises never to let go, and then lets go. God, she has great eyebrows. Bitch.
5 comments:
ok i'm killing myself over here. particularly like the part where he realises it's your time of the month and you lose him to the game! asspedo...i think i'll use that as my new favourite word...along with wicked.
LOL I am wiping tears away! You are a riot!
I do know what you mean with the bad periods every few months. Lots of my friends envied me, but man was it bad when it hit like that! Most months I'd get a few cramps, some bitchyness, but nothing major, then out of the blue, horrendous!! (But I know lots of women that suffer every month!)
I'm going to try your recipe...I wonder if some nut flour might work too?
I get hit every three months or so. I can so relate to this post. I go through dairy-free periods, but since I don't (yet) have conclusive evidence that I'm intolerant, I always turn to an obscenely big bowl of vanilla/stevia whipped cream, eaten with a spoon, in such cases. It always works. I think the saturated fat really helps your hormones even out. A coconut milk baked custard would work in the same way, though. I've done that too. Ahhh sweet fatty female remedies! Bring it.
ROFL! That was so hilarious!!
Nut flour would totally work...mmmm. I've been chilling these in ice cube molds, and it works better.
Coconut milk custard would also work! Yum. Would the tears dripping from my face into the pan ruin it's setting up?
Asspedo is the best word ever. He's invented some good ones, but asspedo takes it.
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