The signs should clue me in. Period.

Every month something happens to me that makes me a little, er, crazy: I feel like crying when my boss doesn't say hi to me at work; when Paden says he likes my new pumpkin bread, I scream, "What, it isn't good as your grandma's?"; I feel like every shirt has shrunk; when I see a brownie at work, I can't do or think of anything until I have eaten it and a few of it's friends too.

Somehow I never realize that my behavior is a little irrational, that Paden is probably really just saying that he likes my cooking, with no hidden meaning behind it, and that no one has switched all my clothes with smaller versions. As soon as that time of the month comes around, I manage to see what my poor husband and cat have seen for the last couple of days...pms has officially taken over my mind.

I recently read a study in a magazine that stated over half of women make up their pms....whoa, whoa, whoa folks! This study was obviously done by men : ) No, but seriously, who are these women that would make up what they go through each month. And wwwhhhyyyy? The best part about my period is it is the only time of the month that I don't give a damn that I have just eaten half of Target's candy aisle. Other than that, there is nothing good to make up here!

I'd say whoever is making it up, just so happens to be crazier than I am!

...and he has a penis too

I live with a male now.

A male, a man, a dude... and he sweats, burps, drinks a beer a night, is obsessed with sports, and plays video games. He also makes noises, pees while standing (so jealous), has really big shoes that take up my closet floor, and has an underwear radius that has now made it to the porch where he comes out in his boxerbriefs to tell me goodbye in the bright of the morning. He watches westerns and reads war books.

I'm used to living with girls. Girls who I can share shoes with, drink a glass of wine with, watch chick flicks, and read their magazines.

But I love my man: he builds me bookcases, hangs my shelves & pictures, helps me clean, makes me dinner (translate: takes me out to eat), buys me bottles of wine, and gives me footrubs.

So even though it takes a little getting used to living with someone who spends less than 5 mintues in the bathroom (hey, I guess that's a good thing for me!) I love living with my man!