California... Interrupted

You know how when something annoys you, and you realize it, you start to notice it everywhere? Once you acknowledge this thing bothers you, it's all you see, all you hear, it's a invasive species and you're the perfect habitat.

It started a few years ago with an ex. When I asked where in America he had been, he replied simply "Las Vegas, and of course L.A." To me these are not exactly the showcases of America, but I understand they have been marketed the most and thought what a shame, but that was it. But then it became a theme. Another foreign boyfriend also confided in me that despite being from a beautiful place in London, he planned to move to California. A good friend from Virginia planned to move to.... you guessed it. California. My job began and I had to spend more and more time in California. I listened to indie groups from all over the world. Every one of them had some lyric in their songs about California. What it is about that place that makes Australians from golden shores with penguins and kangaroos crave and musically serenade the West Coast of America full of ... Full of? Honestly I don't think I've seen a single animal in California. With a state that has a bear on the flag I can genuinely say I have seen nothing more than a snake once. 

It's been shoved down my throat so much. And I'm choking. Stop advertising California because I don't buy your vapid lies. They are lies. First you can't afford to go to the beaches you drone on about. And the world is mostly water, your ocean is no better than any other and it's actually quite a fair bit colder than the Atlantic. Beaches are only fun if you can swim. The Pacific is 16 degrees Fahrenheit (9C) colder than the Atlantic. You don't have beaches. You have water adjacent deserts. 

Drugs. Wow California is so cool, they have legal weed. You know how when you are 25 and you happen to be around 19 year olds, and all they talk about it how wasted they get every weekend. It's their only badge of honor. Their claim to cool. It's annoying. You think wow was I ever that irritating. Yes we were, but we grew up. You know what more annoying than that? A state of adults who have nothing better to talk about other than how high they got or how much access they have to get high. We get it. Cool story bro. And you know what a bunch of grass heads who have spent the last 40 years smoking weed gets you? Paranoid bat shit crazy tent people shitting in the street. You too can have that view in San Fran for just the low price of $2000. 

Your golden hills are dead grass. False advertising. 

If you are going to a place to be happy don't forget you're taking yourself with you.

I'm bored even writing this. Bored that the same shit drivel has been pushed at me for so long. Bored of the same movie stars, the same tv locations, the same trite bull shit of California. My point is it's pretty on the coast in some places. Those places are insanely expensive. And it's not much better to me than really any other coast. Coasts are pretty. And in between the barren lengths of desert which is most of the state, there are some random cool mountain spots. But they are so far in between each other it barely feels like even a day trip from most Cali spots. It's a flights distance away. It's just so overrated. And I'm bored even expressing it, because it's overratedness is even dull. So let's shift.

I just period bled in my pants as a adult in front of my class. Can you imagine a more horrible prospect in 6th grade. While every boy was focusing hard to not get hard in middle school, every girl was willing her crotch to stay dry. You heard the rumors of girls wearing white pants then bleeding on themselves. Legends of your sisters friend, or your best friends cousin. You rarely knew the female directly, but they existed. How could they not? Your period had come randomly one day and lasted 14 days before its stopped. Then disappeared for two months. In middle school Aunt Flow was more of a deadbeat parent that may or may not show up for your dance recital. You never knew when, you just waited in some dreading anticipation. 

So I have been experiencing the pangs of PMS, you know the normal symptoms of tender breasts, lethargy, and full on suicidal contemplation. The usual. My period at this point in my life is regular. Has been for about a decade. Today it decided to come early though. Normally I'd be prepared. Girls are ready. At any given time we generally have enough tampons to plug a fire hydrant. 12 Supers for those heavy days, 22 Regulars in case you drop a box into the toilet like a spaz, and 4 Ultra Supers for when your vagina decides to become a portal exit from the black hole of your uterus and it empties itself. That is what we do. We are so ready. Normally. So imagine my utter horror when my regular period comes a day early, unheard of, and I am at work, in front of a class without a fucking tampon. I went to the bathroom and wasn't even bleeding yet. Then I was. 

And what a brilliant day to wear my ultra light, ultra cheeky, too baggy underwear from Target. I don't own looser undies. That's it. I quickly made a toilet paper pad, as literally every woman in the world has. We have all been stuck here, but generally we have a purse waiting nearby filled specifically with compressed cotton balls. 

I went into my classroom. No tampons. I went into the bathroom, no basket of free tampons. I sit down and consider it is very light and probably won't bleed through much. I was wrong. I stand up a bit later and feel a wet spot on my pants. No where near my vag mind you. Periods are tricky that way. They always seem to go somewhere no where near the epicenter of the action. I was lucky to be wearing blue jeans, but they were light enough you noticed a dark reddish spot if you looked at my bum. 

At this point I am a full blown panic. In the bathroom I go to change my TP pad. It's gone. Oh my gosh. It fell out of my pants. My cool hippie girl pants, I didn't even feel it slip down my pant leg. That is how loose this now disposed of underwear is. I run from the bathroom and find the TP on the ground outside of my classroom. This can't last I think. I go upstairs to the office medicine cabinet. It's lunch time and the room is swamped with people, there are no tampons in the container. I must leave. It is apparent. Either to a CVS or my hotel, it doesn't matter. I grab my wallet and flee the scene. I go outside and hail a cab. I rush back to my hotel room and change my pants to a very tight pair of jeans. I wanted to look the same so hopefully no one would notice. I shove a tampon in, and grab a few for the road. You know some supers, some regulars, for later. The driver takes me back while explaining me his new book on his hallucinations. I'm so glad he's driving. I rush back to my class room assured that I no longer have stained pants on. Unfortunately I have left my work badge at the hotel and accidentally left my cramp medicine in the other pants.

I go upstairs to grab more. Naturally I can't get in. The front desk girl is gone, but there is a first aid kit on her desk. I open it up and see Excedrin inside. I grab two pills and leave in a hurry knowing full well there is probably security footage of me in and out of bathrooms, picking up toilet paper from the ground and storing it in my pocket, fleeing the building, then coming back inside, taking the stairs instead of the elevator, turning to check out my ass as frequently as possible, fishing Excedrin out of the trashcan, because yea after stealing two I accidentally threw it away, and sweating up a storm.

If I am fired tomorrow for being a clear drug addled mess of a person at least I won't have to go back to California.