The Woman Who Runs With Werewolves

[Little Miss Risk]

There is something sinister about my menstrual cycle. I know there are a lot of Earth Mother types out there who will shake their heads at my lack of enthusiasm about my 'natural body rhythms', but for me personally it's a load of honk. My cramps are crippling and feel like my uterus isn't "part of the harmonized whole" but that it's trying to punch it's way out of my body. All in all, the symptoms seem to be tied into the phases of the moon and not in any positive way. After undergoing some personality changes due to hormones, I all of a sudden have a lot more sympathy for lycanthropic folks who's bodies may have been ruled by the changes in the old days.

Werewolves, if they did ever exist, were believed to be powerless against the changes brought about by the shifting of the moon. They could go from normal, tax-paying citizens who probably didn't even jaywalk to giant slobbering beasts that would tear you from limb to limb and bury the bones in a cesspit. I don't buy into the show Twilightschool of thought that they are enlightened and could control the shift. The whole Twilight series seemed to be written to keep teenagers out of each other pants which I don't approve of anyways, so I take it with a grain of salt. I think though that had werewolves existed, they were very much at the mercy of what happened in their beastly bodies and helpless to it.

I only bring this up because my own monthly cycle seems to do something similar to me. Normally I wouldn't harm a fly but come my monthly visitor and I turn into a snarling rabid b**** who would toss kittens into a woodchipper for getting fur on my favorite sweater. I can't help it. I strongly think the full moon coinciding with my PMS is another complex symptom I didn't really want. Maybe there is something to these old legends? So now as I'm eating Midol pills like candy, I've started to think about how this affects my performances when I'm on the road and why I can possibly bleed this much and not need some kind of transfusion.

Case in point, two nights back when we were in London, Ontario we played Call the Office and I was feeling a little... odd. We played with this great all girl band called the AlcoHollies. If John Waters put together a girl cover band without a teenage Ricki Lake, it'd be these ladies. They were great. After our set though, I threatened to deck a guy when he said he was thinking about grabbing Betty's ass. It turns out he was actually a nice guy but really drunk. I believe I threatened to rip off his head and spit down his neck if he did grab her, and while this *might* have been construed as overkill, at the time I thought it was a perfectly logical reaction to defending my friend's (heh heh) honour.

Last night we were watching hockey before the show on the bar's television's and I was getting really het up about seeing Calgary Flames win. Badly. I wanted them to take the Oilers faces and rub them in the ice. Normally I just want to see people wipe out on the ice but I wanted blood. Definitely out of character. On stage I was aggressive to the point of being scary... I came after a gentleman for Take Your Medicine, and he actually backed away from me. So I may have lost my more kinder, gentler side.

The full moon seems to affect all us women this way in some form. Take it from queen hootchie Shakira... even she knows that sometimes as the moon changes it morphs us into some angry, spitting she-beast, or in her case, Were-Hootchie. As seen in my personal secret shameful indulgence, Shakira's She Wolf video... I'm glad I wasn't out clubbing and trolling for tail last night or else it might have gotten ugly and ended in a police report or possibly a scene from Cat People.

At any rate, I'll be glad to reclaim my system back from the hormonal wave, but for now I'll just surf the crimson tide. But I DO think now that werewolves of a sort do walk among us. They just happen to carry tampons in their purses.

Ciao.

Little Miss Risk