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If you are embarrassed by the talk of feminine hygiene products then I suggest you skip this entry. On Friday the Curse descended, and I found myself a little un-prepared for it. I dashed into a combini and - being in a rush - grabbed the first product that came to hand. Now you find that most girls are split into two camps - the tampon and the pad ones. I'm a pad girl myself - ever since my first tampon experience which was ill-executed, well let's just say that I believe there is still a hollow in the ceiling from where my head hit it after I sat down. So I grabbed a pack, skitted to the nearest public toilet and made preparations. When I unwrapped this thing my jaw dropped. It was immense. I was not even sure it would fit into my undies. It could keep a homeless man in Ueno Park warm throughout winter months. As I walked out of the toilet I could feel it rubbing against both my backbone and skimming the front of my bikini line. I'm sure it went past the elastic. I dashed to the car knowing that everyone could see that I was hiding a doona in my knickers. I was relieved to get home and replace it with something not so intimidating. I feel sorry for the woman who feels she needs to use this unwiedly device. She would have to have flooding akin to Niagara. This thing would stop major haemorraghing. In fact I'm keeping the rest of the pack on hand in the car just in case we come across any major car accidents.

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