I saw "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" today. This movie kicks ass. Sara is pissed that I went without her, but I thought she was gone for the afternoon, and I really wanted to go see a movie. I fessed up right away. Fems always find out; you might as well get it over with. She called me a traitor. Or a betrayer. Or something. And she wouldn't slip me any tongue. Anyway, I'm not allowed to say anything about the actual movie. But I can talk about the moviegoing experience.

I thought I would be the only person in the theater. I mean, when we went to see "Miss Congeniality," it was the four of us and about three other people at the Magic Johnson Theater. I didn't think a subtitled Ang Lee film would be a big Magic Johnson crowd either, but the place was relatively full.

If you've never been to a Magic Johnson theater, they're great. Or at least ours is. There's stadium seating for every screen, and there's about 30 stalls in the ladies room. That, ladies and gentlemen, is the bomb. Before the movie starts, there's a little short promotional film with Magic talking about the "No hats. No colors." rules. And it ends with "Thanks for keeping it in the community." I think it's a great concept. And I hope Magic is making money so he can invest more into neighborhoods and areas like ours.

Anyway, watching action movies with a majority black audience is always fun. Except there were parts of this flick where they were laughing at the fighting effects. The action got a bit mythic at points. That's all I can say.

I loved the whole thing, though. Especially the sequence in the desert. To answer Methybeth's question of who, of the opposite sex than you usually do, would you fuck: Ang Lee. Or Chow Yun Fat. Or the guy who played Lo. He was awfully hunky, too.

So what's with the bloody page? I was reading Lunachick42's page last week, and she was talking about a rant she had about the new Platex tampon commercials. About how they emphasize that you can hide their tampons easily, so no one will ever know that you're on your period. The basis of her rant was, "When did menstruation become such a shameful thing?" And she vowed to declare her "lunar juice" in the future.

I say she's right.

First of all, who decided that all "feminine hygeine" products needed an "ex" suffix? Tampax, Platex, Kotex, Kleenex. I want to see a tampon called Vortex.

There's really no reason to hide that you're bleeding. If we stopped hiding it, it would stop being humiliating for young girls if anybody discovered that they were on the rag. She could say, "so what?" Also, prepubescent girls would be a hell of a lot more likely to know what was going on once they did start bleeding, especially if no one had bothered to take the time to explain any damn thing about a menstrual cycle to them. Did that sound bitter?

Of course we wouldn't want to wave a dripping tampon in anybody's face. ... or would we?

From now on, I'm going to take my extremely concealable O.B.ex, free it from its cellophane, loop the string around my ear, and wear it dangling proudly as I walk to the can when I need to change out. I'm going to stick extra pads right to my ass where they'll be handy. God knows that adhesive works on anything but panty crotches. I'll use my little abosrbent buddies as au naturale majik markers until they dry out, and then save them for Christmas tree ornaments.

And what woman of chidbearing age has not considered adding some gunpowder and shot in with that cotton wadding and testing her powers of pyrokenesis to see if she could blow somebody away at 20 paces? Ladies, raise your hands.

Unlike Miguelito I want somebody to tell me I'm brave and "an inspiration to us all" when I go to work with my twat stuffed with a blood slug plug that might shoot out my pant leg if I sneeze. Don't you?

Had enough? Face it, I don't have any damn use in the world for this egg-making, uterus sloughing, fertility process other than to make fun of it and gross people out.

That's about it for this evening. Hope you weren't trying to eat dinner or anything.

It's still a little weird to to outside at night and see Sara's car missing.

Hey, you remember that morning visit to Sara I made earlier in the week? And how I thought Jake must've known what I was up to? She was SO not on to me. She was wondering why in the hell was I grinning like an idiot so early in the morning. So much for me thinking I'm playing it cool.

As soon as I get it cleared with Deb, I've got another date lined up for this Monday night, which I'll really need to help me prepare for the parental visit.

Good night, Legionairres. Don't hang tampons from your ears.