And I'll tell it again, damnit.
Freshman year of college we went on a trip to Big Bear. In honor of the occasion, I bought thermals. Red thermals. So we'd been back for a while and I decided I was going to jammie it up in my thermals. And Anna looked at me and declared that I looked like a blood clot. As soon as she said this, I began rummaging through my closet in search of other items of clothing to further the blood clot look. I ended up wearing the thermals, a big red robe, giant red fuzzy slippers, and a red bandanna on my head. I'm big on red, so I had the closet to back it up. Then Phil came by with his guitar. His usual method of gaining entry to our dorm, Brisa, was to serenade us with his guitar outside our window. So I flew to the back, a vision of red, and let him in. Now, I'm fuzzy on the details from this point, but I do know that somehow the idea struck us to go serenade one Jessica Knobler, who was, as usual, studying in her single. We also knew that I looked like a blood clot and that Jessica was on her period. So what ends this memory is the three of us running through the dorm, Anna, Phil, and myself, up to Jessica's room, all the while with Phil on the guitar singing, "Blood, blood, blood, coming out of your vagina!" and ending in Jessica's room singing, "I'm singing about your period, Jessica Knobler!"
And that's why I miss my first year of college. And why I don't wonder why people sometimes find me strange and off-putting.
I think of that story every time I have my period, which I wouldn't describe as a period this month so much as a five day long miscarriage. I woke up at 5am this morning, weeping from the pain.
I like to end my stories on a happy note.