It's a Miracle I Get to Sleep At All

Sometimes I am shocked with how lazy I can be when it comes to doing things for myself.  I suppose this is better than if I was lazy when it came to other people, but still you'd think you'd want to treat yourself better than anyone else.  At least, that's a little glimpse into the mind of a conceited person.  So  I have some weird habits when it comes to my bedtime routine, or just how I sleep in general.  First off, if I don't wash my face before I get into bed I will immediately sleep more restlessly.  My subconscious must remind me constantly throughout my slumber how dirty my face is, which is then getting onto my pillow, and staying on my pillow for a long time because Lord knows I don't wash my pillowcase as often as I should.  My concerns for becoming germaphobic someday are justified, I'm telling you.  Furthermore, if I don't use my Neutrogena face wash to wash my face I feel less than adequate with my wash job.  This has got to do more with me being weird and "not liking to change a good thing" than it does with the actual product.  I've used it since middle school, which is a time when washing your face was actually considered a cool thing to do.  I remember seeing the pretty, popular girls washing their face with a bright bottle of soap after gym class, which is weird because those were the girls who would just stand there with the hand on hip (this does not cause any sweating on your face) making fun of the girls who were far too competitive and involved in every activity (aka. Me and my two best friends).

It's funny because I specifically recall conversations with girls at sleepovers discussing which face wash they use.

"Oh, you use Clean & Clear?  Doesn't that dry out your skin?" 

"Clearasil?  What, do you get blackheads or something?  Ew..." 

"Oh my God, I just love Neutrogena. It's perfect for my skin type." 

"You struggle with acne?  You should totally get Pro-Activ.  Jessica Simpson uses it!"

One year I even put Pro-Activ on my Christmas list.  I didn't even have acne...  I just thought it would be cool to use it and I JUST WANTED IT, MOM.
Anyways, I got Neutrogena in my stocking instead and I've been using it ever since.  Granted, I've had pretty healthy looking skin since then so it must be working well for my skin type.  So not only do I need that to sleep better I also can't have socks on, which is so difficult to deal with on a cold night.  If I fall asleep in socks I wake up two hours later, massively overheating.  Then it takes another 30 minutes, at least, to fall back asleep.  Thus, I try to just fall asleep with cold feet.  Couldn't do it last night, but my laziness kicked in because my dresser is not in reaching distance and God forbid I get up so I just laid there deciding my next move.  I pulled off my pajama pants and wrapped them around my feet.  I'm not kidding.  This presents my issue with not being able to fall asleep with my bare legs touching each other.  When I sleep in my underwear I have to either A) spread my legs apart or B) stick something between them.  USUALLY MY SHEET OR BLANKET PEOPLE, RELAX.  It's just a weird issue I have, it's fine if someone elses leg is touching mine, but it can't be my own.  Actually, the only person whose leg I hope is ever grazing me in my sleep is Connor.  Otherwise everything is just getting strange.
Oh my God I did wake up with someone else in a bed with me this year who I didn't know once.  That story will be saved for a later time and it's not nearly as wild as it sounds, only as unsettling as it sounds.

xxxx
A

We've Got a Bleeder

Girls bleed.  This shouldn't be a surprise to anyone, unless you completely ignored every health class since third grade.  We bleed, some of us sooner than others and some of us more than others (depending on the time of the week).  If you're a late bloomer *raising hand* like myself, you're in a way fortunate.  It can be a hassle having your period depending on the circumstances and the environment, but it's also something important in terms of being a female and being able to have children someday.  It's like a special bond all women have with each other.  I find it perfectly acceptable for a girl stranger to come up to me and ask if I have a tampon, isn't it an unspoken rule to be generous about that?  The real issue arises when we don't have these options available; when you're surrounded by a group of dudes.  One of the most mortifying experiences of my life, and probably one of the reasons I'm so nonchalant when talking about my period now, was when I first started mine.  Like I said, I was pretty late and it was the summer before 10th grade year.  I'd tell all you jealous ladies  to envy my late start, but I'd much rather have an earlier start than have to experience what I went through my first time:  I was on a camping trip.  I was the oldest girl.  The only adults were my dad, and his three brothers, and my older male cousins and brothers.  We camp in seclusion; not a trailer park with rest rooms, not an area with other families, not somewhere with gentle older women searching for young girls who are FREAKING out about what their vagina is doing.  And did I mention we spend our days camping usually by going somewhere to swim?  If you're not expressing empathy you're not human, not a girl, or no longer my friend.

Exhibit A: The Camping Toilet

Upon initial discovery of what I like to call the Red Stream of Womanhood, I resorted to the only thing I could think of which I know some of us girls are still forced to do; stick a wad of toilet paper down there and face the day with confidence that the toilet paper is the double-strength sturdy brand.  UM, I could tell what I had wasn't.  I may have been better off putting leaves in my underwear.  So here I am waddling to my father, wide-eyed and mortified telling him I can't go swimming today.

Dad: "What do you mean you can't go swimming?  You love it and we're all going.  You have to."
Me:   "I can't.  I can't.  I can't.  Dad.  No."

I think father intuition kicked, if there is such a thing (which I now believe in).  Or maybe the awkward waddle paired with the paralyzed look of fear on my face gave it away.

Dad:  "Oh...Um...Do you need to go somewhere...Um..To get things?"

So Dad and I drove, in the most silent of fashions, to the tiniest neighborhood corner store that ever existed and I hopped out the car, ran in, and bought my first box of tampons.  Thank God for the included diagrams in the box because all memories of health class lessons were non-existant in my mind.

This story came to my head today because we were talking about Toxic Shock Syndrome in class, which can occur with the improper usage of tampons.  And some girl made a comment about how uncomfortable the boys probably were with the discussion.  I think it's hilarious/very stupid that boys don't like it when girls talk about their periods or think it's gross.  It happens to all of us, and you should love it, because that lovely stream means your girl is fertile and healthy, and you're actually more attracted to us anyways during that time of the month because of the hormones we release.  So I kind of make a point to talk about it, not obnoxiously, but just as a conversation and it's interesting to see who accepts it.  Go with the flow.

xxxx

A