2004-10-05 - 4:23 p.m.

Man, I am having PMS! You have to understand that this is a new thing for me. I get PMS so rarely that it freaks me out when I do. Yesterday I felt it coming on like a case of the DTs. I know women have written (and written and written and written about this, so suck it up, it’s happening to me now). The thing is that in your head you realize that you are acting like a crazy person, you understand that your behavior is not rational but are powerless to control it. One would think that an educated woman that has lost control of her emotions should be able to reel it in when that realization comes… but sadly the answer is no she cannot. PMS is the excuse for my behavior over the last two days.
I wanted to get my hair cut. When I moved to Queens I didn’t have what one would call a regular hairdresser. It was whoever was available at the walk in place near my apartment. Partly because the person I went to before had left the state and partly because I just couldn’t part with spending $85 a month for a haircut; that cuts into my drinking money. So I decided to try the place at the end of my street that looks swanky but advertises a $20 haircut. I walk in, sit down for my consultation and the first thing out of his mouth is, “Is this your natural hair color?” The cheek of it! I mean it isn’t, but there is no reason to point it out, we just met! The he starts in about how this color is not me, it is too brassy and he would love to get some other color on there. In my head I am thinking for fuck sake, this is as close to my natural hair color one can get out of a box and who the !@#$ are you to want to change it. I just want a haircut you pansy ass freak. Get me the manager!
Knock Knock
Who’s there?
PMS!
He did give me a great haircut though. Although at some point he must have sensed a hormonal shift as he talked me into long bangs. I have issues with bangs so this must have been discussed in one of my lucid moments. I haven’t had them since I was twelve and with curly hair they are typically a hairdon’t. But he shows me how to style the bangs with the dryer but then only partially dries the rest of it. Let me just give you some background on libbyfish’s hair. IT MUST BE DRIED ALL THE WAY OR NOT AT ALL! But I figured I was only going to run into the grocery store to pick up dinner then head home so no big deal.
UNTIL I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror at the store, I looked like a bartender from a bowling alley in Iowa. The bangs were all dried and perfect but the rest was starting to curl up in weird ways and since he hadn’t put any product on it, it looked a brillo pad atop my head. I was mortified. It was at this point I knew that the bangs had been a mistake. While they looked all sexy covering my right eye, they were in fact covering my right eye so I had no depth perception. This sent me into another rage of frustration because no matter how I brushed them out of my eye, it just kept flapping back in it. I had to check my reflection in the frozen food section to make sure I had not started to turn green and muscular. Fear not, it was only in my head.
I finally get home and P is wandering around the apartment in his “work out” clothes. I put work out in the ironic parenthesis because P does work out at the gym often but on his off days he does sit up and arm curls. I am not allowed in the room while he is doing them so I have no idea if that is a euphemism for something or not but it takes him forever to do it. I suspect he just goes in there to get away from me. While he was bettering himself I set about doing my nightly duties of making dinner. I had most of it done the pasta was boiling the sauce was simmering and… wait what is that? Is that a bug in the pasta water? I grabbed a spoon to scoop it out to figure out what it could be and it was a little baby roach. I KNOW!!! But wait, it gets worse… along side the roach on the spoon are little tiny maggots!!!!! Ah, bleck, geezus on toast! My skin is crawling as I type this. If I had not spotted the floating roach, we totally would have eaten that. It was like the home game of fear factor! I send P to the store for more pasta and while he is gone THE SAUCE SEPARATES. This causes me to lose my shit completely. I had a full on tantrum; I am not positive but I think I actually threw stuff, I kind of blackout in my rage.
P returns triumphant with the replacement pasta, but immediately senses with his animal instincts that the wrath is about to start and he retreats into the living room to avoid it. In the kitchen I set about slamming the pots and pans just so he knows that I am not happy. I serve his dinner at the table and tell him it may look like shit but it should taste alright. P sees that I have had a complete psychotic break and says something like, “mmm, this is really good, thank you honey”. I just respond with an icy glare… trying to think of how I can blame him for the lumpy sauce. I had nothing.
This morning was a whole new hormone scramble. P and I have a schedule in the mornings. I get up first and shower and get out of the bathroom then leave for work while he is finishes getting ready. Over the summer when we had set this schedule I was leaving with wet hair and embracing my natural curls, but now it is too cold to do so. Plus, remember gentle readers, I have a new hair do. The excitement of a new look has me all aflutter. I am making good time and hair is almost dry but we only have one mirror and P has to get into the shower. This is usually not an issue but today of all days he decided to take a HOT SHOWER. I KNOW! The nerve of him. The steam is making me sweat which is making my hair curly which is pissing me off and those goddamn bangs are in my way so I can’t see what I am doing! Again, I go into a rage and clearly it is P’s fault, nevermind the fact that I am using his bathroom time. I decide that P is against me and all I stand for… he had to pay, so I flushed the toilet. Ok, I didn’t really do that but I wanted to. In the end the hair went in a ponytail and P is getting a mirror for the bedroom. Isn’t he great?

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