Number of times I referenced my chatch/vagina/cooch/hoo-ha or a man’s cucumber/peen/pole/tomato (don’t ask): 30
Number of hot flashes I had this: 20
Number of times my face glistened with the dewness of the afternoon sun: 15
Number of men that I fell in love with this weekend on sight alone: 10
Number of babies I would have taken home for the night based on their Flower boy looks and charm: 8
Number of men I proposed to when out of their earshot: 5
Number of those same men that saw me proposing and stared: 3
Number of babies I managed to proposition by playing Boyfriend’s “Boyfriend” in a bar: 1
(That’s my most proud number. Later, as I was dancing around to another song, he asked if I liked it. I told him I loved Sistar. He looked shocked and said, “Oh really?!” and paid more attention to me after that. Pro-tip: use Kpop from the generation the boy/man is familiar with to get his attention. Do not, however, go and play g.o.d when you’re trying to impress a baby. B.A.P’s “Power” is a much better choice. Anyway, playing g.o.d for a man is stupid anyway. They’re too good for that. You should play g.o.d. for yourself and that’s it. “To My Mother” WHAT WHAT! And that was pretty much the end of the night. Until we left the bar and we cued up “I’ll Make a Man Out of You” from Mulan. Sometimes, we’re assholes.)
Good weekend all around. Also, I’m having another hot flash. Right now. So make that number 21. Fuck.
*I have no idea what menopause makes you feel like beyond the hot flashes. I’m really not sure if it makes you incredibly, well, raring to go at the drop of a hat. Even as we were headed back to the train station, I was reading to let the taxi driver and his strong hands have his way with me. If this is menopause, it’s incredibly frustrating, but might be really fun.