I don't know my feels

It just feels like every minority's (especially women's) recognition day in America starts off  with the majority complaining about how they are being wronged by not having a day of their own. Let me tell you something, offended dudes: wait till the government tells you what you can and cannot do with your body, and then we'll see how much shit you kick up. Then we will fight it together, how about that? Because we will know exactly where you're coming from, and we will be furious.

Not saying I disagree with some of the points brought up below about domestic violence and rape, but this isn't a game of who is suffering more than whom, and one minority asking for its rights shouldn't be shouted down by another party asking them why they aren't representing the party's rights too. If you feel injustice, then you speak the fuck up. Don't blame other people for not doing it for you.

I'm sorry?

Usually the day before my periods I feel ill and nauseous and throw up and have no appetite. I'm always afraid I have the stomach flu, which never happens, so I should just start getting over it, except there will be that one time when it IS the stomach flu. No, I am not paranoid without reason. I promise.

One of my friends used to call the time of her period 'staging Titus Andronicus in my pants,' because she's a theatre major and hilarious. Today in a sleep deprived state, I decided to call it Titus Andronicunt and then laughed and then felt bad for disrespecting my uterus. I'm sorry, uterus. I didn't mean it. It's just, I would really appreciate if you chilled out sometimes, because I'm the kind of asexual who can't see myself engaging in any of your default functionality. Maybe I could call you something different. Maybe the Taming of the Spew or The Tampon? Or Much Ado About Nothing. (Shakspeare fans, please see what I did there. I am laughing at my own jokes, and I know that is not cool.)