The Clash

You know when a ridiculously expensive purple Betsey Johnson dress that you bought in the middle of the day on a Saturday after consuming too many Bloody Marys with brunch doesn't look good? When it's paired with the hair that you accidentally dyed purplish-brown over the weekend, that's when.

But on a brighter note, speaking of ladies who are bloody, my period stopped on Day 18. As did my bloating and crying and contemplating drinking bleach. After researching the options given to me by Dr. O, my gynecologist, I decided that instead of risking "bone density loss" and "cervical erosion" by switching to even scarier pills, I'm going to engage solely in anal from now on. No babies that way!