The clowns are juggling!

My friend Anasatan describes her monthly "gift" as a traveling circus that has set up inside her uterus. Then we both look at each other, pretend to juggle ('cause I suck at it and there would be casualties if I actually juggled for reals) and hum the circus song. You know, the clown song where they all get out of an incredibly small Volkswagon Bug, juggling of course.

I am sad to say that the circus has pulled in and the main tent is now being erected (and nothing else) less than two days before I have to spend six to seven hours on a plane with the smallest bathrooms on the planet. I also have to make room for tampons, sanitary napkins and feminine wipes in my carry-on, my purse AND my suitcase. As if I didn't have anything else to pack!

Now I know what you're thining... "didn't you time this? Wouldn't you know EXACTLY when your period would come and prepare accordingly?" Yes and no. I had hoped it would come last week when it was expected, but I've never been a by-the-book type of girl. Even my reproductive system is a procrastinator.

I just hope the clowns don't get too out of hand. They're wily like that. Those damn ass clowns!

Kittywompus!

Psst. I love the Urban Dictionary (http://www.urbandictionary.com/). It's taught me so much in so little time. I now know that assclam is not in the dictionary, but ass clown is.





Ass clown (noun) : one, who, through the fault of his parents conception, is a skid mark in society's collective underwear; an unmitigated fool or jerk; a sad sack; a tool or goof; One whose stupidity and/or ineptitude exceeds the descriptive potential of both the terms ass and clown in isolation, and in so doing demands to be referred to as the conjugate of the two.


I was thoroughly disappointed to see that assclam was not in the dictionary, but then I saw the silver lining (okay, I pulled down t he cloud and stitched in the lining myself): I was truly an original and will continue to "invent" words that should be incorporated into the dictionary. If only I can get more people to use them. So far, bum fluff has not warranted any new mention. Neither has crotch rot, but I will persevere.


My good friend Magnet started the urban dictionary love affair earlier this week with her new blog (simplylaur.blogspot.com). There, she introduced me to a new word that she insist I look up. Kittywompus - my imagination started to run rampant, which is really nothing new (for those of you who read about my sperm tea. Yes, you read that right). Kittywompus - a romper room for kids? And who really uses the term romber room? A cat fight gone array? A wombat convention? No, it's when your world is askew, crooked or disorderly. I know that feeling all too well. Sometimes, it's several times in the same day.

I don't think I'm alone, given the conversations I've had with numerous friends. As I approach 40 (gasp! Yes!), I'm a little more introspective, looking at where I've been and where I'd like to go next. The tough part is mapping it out, the roads to take, which routes to demolish and which ones to expand. I'm tired of the old map full of potholes, sometimes self-dug, old familiar roadways and the same damn scenery time and time again. It's time for change. I just have to figure out what that change is.

I'll be a kittywompus for now but if I stop too long in the rest area, kick my ass, arrest me, throw water bottles at me. Howl at me. I'll be sure to move on.