I really shouldn't think that way, it's such an incomplete way to view one's self. But anyways, here I am waking after having clutched my belly and whimpered til I dozed off once again. Sometimes it's quite irksome to be female. Humans are such odd creatures. What other being could survive as a species if it's females were subjected to immobilizing pain every twenty-eight days? Couldn't we get anything really cool out of being the higher intelligence on the planet? Ok, I take that back, it was an idiotic thing to say. I'm just grumpy. I'm made more grumpy by the fact that this time next month I'll be at the beach. I don't want to deal with this nonsense on my vacation. I'm reminded of something I heard from a friend that she was told by her doctor aunt and experienced to be true, swimming in ocean water stops periods. I wonder if that's true, and I wonder why it would be so.
My body is no kinder to me than I am to it most of the time.
I hate the idea of body and mind as seperate things, but the idea is so common and it has been present in my world for so long I find myself using it's terms in spite of myself.
Sometimes I do things just for the hell of it, and ocassionally it is not an enjoyable spontaneity. Case in point, I decided to shave my pubic hair. If you know me, which few who might read this are likely to, you know this is a very odd thing for me to do even with some specific intent, much less just for the hell of it. I shave my legs only when I am annoyed by the hair or plan on wearing a dress or shorts. I tried shaving my underarms once and immediately forswore doing it ever again. I pluck a few rogue hairs but generally I don't dislike them enough to be bothered by them. I have an intense dislike of people who find it unfeminine or nasty for a woman to have body hair. It's in our DNA just like guys, so get over it. If I was intended to have hairless legs, it wouldn't grow there. And I'm terribly sorry, but I'm not enduring nicks and razor burn for anyone's approval, so society will just have to agree to disagree with me. Any man who would not want me for such a reason is not worth the skin that holds him together, and any woman who dislike me for it is no friend of mine. With these fierce opinions you might be baffled that I would do this, but I also hold that there's little I wouldn't try at least once in the right situation. Boredom and a nice new razor proved the right situation, so I tried it. My skin tends to be hyper sensitive and thin all over my body, so it was rather enraged with me immediately. Only now, about three days later, has my skin calmed a bit. I discovered some scars I did not realize I had, chickenpox scars I believe, and a mole I had nearly forgotten. Quite amusing to rediscover marks and recognise them like lost friends...
I hate the way it looks, and the way it feels is nothing special either. I've come to the conclusion that I could not fuck a woman with a completely shaved pussy. It's simply too unnatural and creepy looking. It would make me feel intensely pedophilic.
My mind is a rather strange place, I must say.
Enough body related ramblings.
M.
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