...he hasn't visited my blog yet. I'm turning up the guilt in a huge way.
But there are more serious matters at hand. Embarrassing matters really. I'm rather fucking mortified to tell you the truth.
So yesterday was municipal election day here. I voted. Naturally. Then Small Bum and I had dinner at his parent's house. I wore light coloured pants. That was a misjudged error, but then, they were my only clean trousers. It's also that time of the month. Make the connection. Don't make me spell it out, it will just compound my embarrassment. I only realised on getting home last night and undressing, and reacted with what only can be screams of horror. I screamed at my pants for about a minute solid.
What can a woman do? I don't know his parents helluva well, which is even worse. I'd rather this happen in front of the president to be perfectly honest. Oh my gad. I hate being a women sometimes. Sure, I love my endless collection of stiletto heels, my blingey jewellery, my skirts, the fact that I can put make-up on, my lacy underwear, my push up bras. But this, this! It's just not fair.
On Tuesday (for yesterday was a public holiday), we all went out in Norwood. It was superb. My ex, R, also happened to be there, and we had a fabulous chat. The best chat we've had in months. So I'm chuffed about that. I'm also chuffed at how open and honest and caring he seemed to be.
What I'm not chuffed about are my pants, the parents and this embarrassing fuck-up that could've been avoided had I only caught it in time. I'm assuming that if Small Bum saw it, he would've said something. Or maybe he just couldn't. I'm not sure if I should even broach the subject with him. Perhaps I won't.
20 comments:
Funny, I was having this exact conversation with a friend yesterday.
Yes, it is unfair - but then again, every single female on the planet goes through this. The fact that we are embarrassed, hide our tampons etc etc away and hardly ever talk about menstruating proves to me that despite leaps and bounds in feminism, the world is STILL dominated by men's perceptions.
See - I am now tired of all of this hiding and embarrassment! Sorry men, but I am no longer hiding.
If I need to get a tampon from my bag when you are in the room - tough, I will do it.
If I have an accident - tough - it happens and I refuse to cringe about it.
If I am having a really bad PMS month, tough - because there is precious little I can do about controlling any of this!
So - hold your head up high, forgive your pants and move on!
Jam, I like your style babe.
I suppose it could've been worse. Like I sat on dog poo or something. So I will try not to cringe too much. I'm finding this hard though, because I don't want his folks to feel sorry for me. That's the crux of the matter. That's what gets me the most out of everything.
I am really hoping it happened on the ride back home. But if not, I'll remember your words. Thank you. :)
I've thought about this a lot. And then thought about it much more. Why do women have so much "stuff" to go through while men have....errrr... nothing to endure! A man can go through his whole life with relativity no pain or suffering at all while a woman's life is dabbed with uncomfortable occurrences across most stages of her development and life-cycle!
I have unfortunately found no sign of an answer. Anyone with a clue? My mom did a brilliant job of hiding it all from me but having a sister I've picked up on many things as well as from friends that are girls ;-) Hectic! No doubt! Which is why I believe a woman should never be made or caused to experience any more drama than she already naturally does.
…right, seeing as I’ve just spent all my “emotional/sensitivity” credits for the next 20 years in one go, I will now prepare to get shot down by about 3.5 billion of the world’s population.
Don't stress, sweetie - if I didn't see it last night when you got back, then they didn't, and Small Bum didn't either. My reaction to any male who makes a comment about periods being disgusting or women being bitchy on PMS, is always "if it bothers you so much, then find yourselft a boyfriend. I hear they don't have that problem." That usually shuts them up.
Sheldon - I thought that was sweet: "women shouldn't have to endure more than they already have going." Thanks. If only that were true.
I'm still cringing, but am momentarily thankful that most women on a global scale have endured this sort of embarrassment at one time or another. Eeek.
Ant - thanks babe. I'm not sure if you saw my backside for that brief moment last night though. When I get home, I'm going to put those pants back on and I'm going to need you to tell me exactly how bad it is. Then I'll open a bottle of wine and get drunk, depending on the answer.
Don't sweat it. They probably didn't notice and, if they did, I can assure you that SB's mum totally understood. It's happened to the best of us. :) Chin up!
Thanks Steph. I just cringe at the thought of her saying, "Shame, that poor girl..." that for me is too much.
But Ant says she'll let me know how obvious it was when I get back home tonight - will put on the pants again and see. *sigh *
As if! We're going to open a bottle of vino and get drunk, regardless of the answer! (and perhaps get some other red stains on the pants?!)
That happened to me at a reception dinner for a course I was attending in Denmark. I was wearing a blue flowered skirt and just hoped that the spot could have been confused for a flower...
Ant - let's do it baby!
Steph - now flowers, that's a fantastic camouflage. :)
hey - save me a glass! ;)
when I was a teenager I got my period round at a friend's house, while sitting on her parents' white suede sofa. The mum made me sit on a plastic bag... and the stain wouldn't shift.
Z - we'll definitely 'sante' to you my dear! The bitch made you sit on a bag?? Jeeziz, talk about making it worse! That's just pure discrimination! (And preservation of the white suede couch.)
OK, I'm definitely starting to feel better. But I just know when I see Small Bum again, I'm going to blush and possibly burst into tears. Where's that wine???
it was really quite humiliating. worst of all, it was a sleepover so i couldn't even leave until my parents came to pick me up the next day...
i rather like the tribal idea of going off to sit in a hut for the duration of the whole ordeal. that would give us one week off in four and as we ladies tend to sync with each other we'd all be in there at the same time with plenty of wine and nibbles to see us through!
You're poor thing! I really really really wouldn't have coped with that at all, probably slipping out of the window in the dead of night and running home! Shitters, I'm surprised you didn't need therapy. Sitting on a bag. I mean, what the hell? Pah! Dragon!
I say we all go tribal. Even if it means I build a hut out of sheets and sticks in my garden and refuse to come out for five days, only to fetch more wine from my fridge and to watch Desperate Housewives.
Yikes! Get hammered and forget it, even if SB saw it he wont remember for ever and he probably wouldnt know what it was, i wouldnt have to be honest. Ketchup? Period would not have been in my first 20 guesses i can assure you.
Billy, you're kidding me. We're talking about a very well-placed spot here, on white fabric. But I also did a "what if" list during the initial crisis, like we were drinking red wine last night. Perhaps they thought I spilled red wine (conveniently in my crack?????) or, or, I was painting a red picture, or, or...I don't think so somehow. Only Third World Ant, who will see the pants on tonight will be able to honestly tell me how bad it really is. And to think they all waved us goodbye at the door, and as I turned my heel to walk to the car...there was my bum...in full view of the entire family, brother and wife included.
Eeeeeeeeeeeeek. But thanks for making me feel better about it anyway. :)
Honey, am sure no one saw! It must of happened on the way home ... just cling to that fact;)
To put everyone's mind at ease, I can safely report that the spot wasn't that bad... I could only see it properly because I was sitting on the floor and Peas' ass was higher than my line of sight when she modelled the pants for me last night!
Peas, they'd only have seen it if you'd done a handstand in front of them... you didn't, did you?
Handbag - Apparently, after parading around the lounge in the said pants, under the scrutiny of THird World Ant, it would appear that one would have to look very closely in order to see the spot.
So I celebrated this through the medium of a bottle of wine.
Sorry hunny, You appear to have all the disadvantages of a Laydee, with none of the advantages of of boyee...
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