Ahhh… thanks LunaSea. That’s was my guess, but I didn’t want to assume anything.
In that case, Sparky, you didn’t do anything wrong. I get that way myself. My SO sedates me with chocolate.
I thought it was Pre Menstrual Tirade myself. Then again, I have a wife and two teenage daughters in my house so apparently, I’m somewhat of an idiot when it comes to these types of things…
They were banned from the village? What a great idea. I guess that provides a great argument to support the hypothesis that we’ve stopped evolving…the ancients obviously possessed superior intelligence
Actually, they weren’t banned from the village. They just left to go be with other PMT-ing women so they could eat chocolate-covered acorns and discuss in minute detail how every idiot man in the entire village was incapable of doing anything right, dammit.
See, I wish we still got “banned from the village” during our “time.” Just think about it - for one week a month, lying around with your chick friends, eating chocolate, reading, taking long walks, freedom from back-breaking labor of farming, hunting, and gathering. In this day and age it would mean a trip to the spa.
Are we sure that this wasn’t cooked up by the women? Because it sounds like a win-win situation. Does anyone want to join me in starting a movement?
Mr. Jarbaby knew I was suffering through this two weeks ago, when I was watching “Ferris Buellers Day Off” and starting weeping uncontrollably at the Twist and Shout scene.
Mr. J: What are you crying for?
J: I don’t know.
Mr. J: Are you O.K.?
J: Yes…it’s just…look at what our lives have become… :: weeping ::
Ferris Bueller. I actually ate at Burger King that day.
I sent a sorry message. I didn’t know what about, so I made it as generic as possible.
Still haven’t heard from her.
Do I call her up?
or
Do I leave her alone?
I’m confused (perhaps that is her plan); if I call her I may just be inviting trouble, but if I leave her alone she might think I ‘don’t care’, which is not at all the message I want to give.
I am sure that she’ll come around, I just want to get out of the doghouse ASAP, cos it’s no fun in here.
I had some REALLY REALLY bad PMS this weekend. Long story short, I ended up throwing a tantrum on the phone when I was talking to my boyfriend. I felt really bad afterwords, but I can’t help it when i spazz like that. He ended up rather pissed off at me.
I’m pretty sure he’s still mad at me too.
PMS ruins everything!
I’m glad that you are trying to make things with your girlfriend better. My boyfriend just gets mad at me and says that I should be above throwing tantrums. :mad:
My mother thinks that I may have that PMDD (Premenstral Dysphoric Disorder).
I’m going to second being sent away from the village! That spa sounds like a great idea! I could use the break!
Okay, so when I win the lottery tonight, I’m going to build a spa and call it The Menstral Hut. All the chairs are special massage recliners with a built-in wine bar. The sauna ratio-to-inmate is 2-1. Screening rooms showing Bette Davis & Joan Crawford films 24-hours a day. A well-stocked video library featuring films for your every mood, from “Thelma & Louise” and “Aliens” to “Terms of Endearment” and “Sense & Sensibility”. Circulating whirlpool spas. No mirrors. Foot and back rubs given by well-built young men who who whisper sweet apologies all the while.
Did I forget anything?
Oh, Sparky, if there is no real underlying problem, just ride the storm and talk to her about it in a couple days, in a nice way (don’t take or cast blame unless there is a genuine fault). And cheer up, maybe she’ll grow out of the worst of it. Mine got waaay better by my late twenties. I still sometimes get in a mood where I just want to pick a fight for the sake of having something real to be pissed about, rather than just a vague, angry feeling. I don’t do it very often, and I give my husband fair warning, so he just ignores the worst of it and is extra nice to me, guaranteeing that I will feel guilty later and be extra nice to him in return.
Damn. I saw PMT, and immediatly thought this was a thread by a woman who was laughing at her SO’s PreMenstrual Terror. Which is what we men are struck by once a month…
Chocolate lucie! Goddamnit you forgot the freaking chocolate!
sorry… I’ve got PMT and my MIL is here for a month and pretty soon I might just need to kill her…
death by slow boredom is too long coming… how many times a day can a woman discuss handwashing her bra? And her bowels?