I love being a woman. I do. At times there is nothing more empowering and fun than being a young beautiful woman. A woman can wear heels (without receiving strange looks from others), accessorize much more completely and wildly than any male can, a woman can feel the sway of her delicate, sexy walk. A woman can tilt her head up and feel her rich hair flowing down her back, a woman can be forever graceful without the interference of masculinity. A woman can pout her lips and look sexy, not disturbed. I enjoy femininity immensely.

But it’s not all perks. It’s definitely not all fun. It’s worth while, but sometimes certain things a woman has to endure can get to you, you know? The shaving, plucking, brushing, applying, moisturizing, waxing, and exfoliating can become tedious at times, but some men subject themselves to a couple of those. No. I’m not talking about that, and the women and moderately aware males present know exactly what I’m talking about:

A woman’s period.

In all actuality I shouldn’t be complaining. I never get cramps or headaches or other debilitating symptoms that plague many women. I should be grateful for my mild menstrual cycle. And usually I am, but there are times when it’s just freaking annoying. When your sitting in ARCH 1615, and you just changed your tampon, and you realize that you have a Nile river of blood about to ruin your day completely, it’s annoying to leave the class, hunt down a bathroom in the building and change your tampon once again. It’s really annoying to open your purse when someone asks for a pen and display to the world the amazing gamut of feminine hygiene products that you cart around with you. You wanna tampon? We got normal, super, and super plus. We got ones with applicators, ones without. I even carry them in pink and white. You prefer a pad? We got panty liners, winged ones, small ones, big ones, and a few that rival your chem. text book in size.

And do you think it’s fun to carry this mini flea market of sanitation around? No! It’s annoying, vexing, interrupting and at times painful.

But what annoys me the most are the men that get grossed out every time they see any personal hygiene propaganda. Like the guys who cringe every time a tampon or pad is discussed, referenced to, or sitting in a box by the toilet. What? Where else would I put the freaking box of tampons? Under a towel? In another locked box? Yes, I could put them in the cabinet outside the bathroom, but why would I? It doesn’t gross me out! Come on! How does that funny little misogynistic saying of evil go? Oh yes- BE A MAN! Get over it! Women have periods! You can’t change that! And the next time I need a tampon I’m not going to whisper it discreetly to my closest friends, as if the words could cripple civilized company if said too loudly. Nope! Not any more. The next time I need a tampon, my dear friends, I’m standing on a table and screaming out the necessity!