This weekend Jake and I went to see a friend from High School. Eileen and I lost touch for some reason or another and found each other on MySpace of all places. She's a special Ed teacher for kids and has two Autistic children of her own. She's married and lives in a nice house close to her mom.

It's funny how you expect people to be different after all these years, yet she was the same butthead I remember in high school. Funny, sarcastic and smiling. The ride there I talked a million miles an hour, trying to ready myself for anything. My nervousness wasn't about meeting her as much as it was about putting together gaps in my life. I've always felt incomplete, as if my past were bits and pieces of a whole. I've met so many people who had friendships since kindergarten that it made me feel like I was missing out. It's hard when talking about 'old times' refers to three or four years ago. Now I feel like I'm starting to find myself again. Memories I've suppressed are now just... memories. Good, bad... it's still a part of me. Of course, Eileen telling her mom about us hitch hiking was a memory I wished she could have forgotten. :p There's nothing worse then the wrath of a Jewish mom. heh.

The barbeque went well. Jake neglected to tell me about his online class having homework due so we had to leave early. I wasn't thrilled about that, but what are you going to do... except kill him. Her kids were typical kids, but you could see they had Autism. Eileen helped to take care of special needs foster kids growing up (usually under the age of 2) so she's the perfect mom for them. We planned on getting together sans the kids soon so it will be nice. I think the best part is finally having more friends that we don't just talk to online. Besides my work buddies we haven't had anyone to just hang out with until Cat and Mark arrived. That was a dream come true. We finally have a couple that we can talk about everything and anything with... who have similar views and interests. Hopefully they won't get sick of us. :p

Living in California has made me quite the woose. Last night I was sleeping when I heard some loud banging noises. My first thought was that someone was messing with the garbage cans. The room lit up and another loud boom hit. Thunder storm. No rain, just thunder and lightning. I went to the living room to check on the kittens. First storm for them. Then a really loud one hit. I said, "Fuck this shit" and jumped right back into bed. Jake had woken up to that one. We just listed to the storm for a bit, then drifted back to sleep. How odd that a grown person is transformed to a six year old when a little weather happens. Suddenly I was back in my old bedroom, with covers up to my ears just waiting for it to pass. When I'm up thunderstorms don't bother me as much. It's something about being in bed when it's happening that creeps me out.

I remember having a big window as a child. It was the normal window with a triangle of glass above it. We had these tall trees out front that swayed in the winds and made ghoulish shadows with it's branches. One time the Santa Ana winds were really bad and the 'monsters' looked as if they were coming to get me. I Laid in my pink canape bed, covers up to my ears and watched every sway. Suddenly there was a loud *snap* and the monster flew across the room. This sent me into a fit of screams that sent my dad dashing into the room buck naked. I slept in their bed for a week after that. Even seeing the tree laying across the driveway wasn't any consolation. There were two more ghouls out there and I wasn't about to be eaten by them. You'd never think I'd grow up to love horror films like I do.

I'm cramping and bleeding. There, I said it. When I was growing up 'girl stuff' was strictly for chicks to talk about. Nowadays it's a topic everyone deals with. The other night I was fussing about not feeling good. Bane asked me what was wrong. Out of habit I hesitated... only to have him say, "Are you cramping?" It made me smile. I keep forgetting how comfortable people are with normal bodily functions these days. Some say it's being brought up with girls, or dealing with their mom... but I think it's something more. I believe we are more open about it in our classrooms and with each other.

When I was 10 we had a sex ed class. They shuffled the boys into one room and the girls into another. From there we watched an old film on how our bodies are changing. They lightly touched on the boys changes, and when the film ended we were shuffled out again, no Q&A session offered. The boys were talking about how girls change when their breasts get big. I was already a B cup so all eyes were chest level at me. Lovely... I got my first dose of what would be the typical introduction stare from the male gender.

You can stop here unless you want to read embarassing girl stuff. Two weeks later my dad took me whale watching. I started feeling sick and headed for the cramped bathroom. Back then toilet paper consisted of folded over sheets, about the size of two crackers. I had started my period and was stuck in the bathroom for most of the trip. When I told my dad he started getting teary eyed. "My baby's becoming a woman." I wanted to die. He took me to the market and had me buy a box of Stayfree pads. The package was huge! I could slap on 4 wheels and make a go cart out of it. He made me carry it all the way to the front, which was torture. I was redfaced, and just wanted to go. I told dad not to embarass me. Fat chance. When we got to the cashier he blurted out, "My baby started her first period. She's becoming a woman!" People at checkstands on both sides of us looked over, and I wanted to crawl under the stand and die. The checker gave me a smile and looked a little sad. Now I know why.

And to complete the humiliation on me: Three months had passed and my mother asked where all the pads where going. What I wasn't told was when my period ended I was supposed to stop wearing them. Needless to say, I felt like a complete moron when she started taunting me about it. My dad tried cheering me up about it... but his giggling only made it worse.

Back to the present. I look forward to the stress of worrying about my job to be over so I wont be bleeding every two weeks. Oh yeah, and will someone please tell my boyfriend that trying to make me feel better by saying it might be pre-menopause is NOT going to help. KTHXBAI!!1