I'd Rather Have an Exclamation Point than a Period

Dear Uterus,

What the hell? Who did you piss off to get stuck with this crap? Oh, sure, you can give it a cute name like "aunt Flo," or "the visitor," or, as they said on the one episode of Everybody Loves Raymond that I saw, "Ladies' Days." All the cutsie names will not negate the fact that this is a giant pain in my ass. Or uterus, if you will. So, uterus, what gives?

Love, your friend Sarah.Allow me to explain. I got my period in 5th grade, and have been pretty annoyed by it ever since. I mean, is this absoultely necessary? Really? Couldn't something else happen once a month instead? Like, I could get a funny-shaped rash. I get enough rashes anyway; one more wouldn't be much bother. Or maybe I could pop out a miniature coin from my hoo-hoo every month. It would be like a prize! When I collected enough coins, I could redeem them for something, like a basketball, or a car.

Did you realize how much feminine hygeine (don't you love that? It sounds like scrubbing bubbles for your Lady Bits) products cost? They aren't cheap, especially if you're like me and prefer to buy the kind not soaked in toxic chemicals. AND, as an extra slap in the face, they're taxable items! There should be some sort of tax deduction wherin I would be reimbursed for these costs. Technically, they're health-related. I can see it now. I imagine calling the IRS to ask a question, and getting the following message: "If you'd like to e-File, press 1. If you have a question about your imputed income, press 2. If you need a copy of the W-1056 Aunt-Flo Form, press 3."