Erin from Shades of Gray and a Pinch of Pink

I really like Erin, I do. Not just because my middle name is Erin and she lives in NYC, and that means she is physically the closest blogger to me. No, that's not why I like her. Although, that does help.

I like her because she's honest. And she likes to drink. And she emails me on Fridays and we talk about how hungover we are. And she talks about her period. That might be the #1 reason why I like her.

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Hi future friends, I'm Erin.

 So there was once a time that Alissa discussed her period in Blogland. 

I thought it was great but a lot of you didn't.

And if you're a part of that "didn't" crowd then you should probably just stop reading right about...


Because I'm not here to give you any insightful information, share a delicious recipe, or flaunt my flawlessness in a fashion forward outfit.

Nope not at all.

I'm just here to tell you a story about Flow.

Because this is Blogland and anything goes in Blogland (except politics of course) and last time I checked I hadn't seen a single manly man roaming around these parts so why can't the ladies talk about lady problems?

If you have a problem with it then I'm for real confused because every normal chickadee hates Flow and would like to grab her by the throat and drop kick her into the nearest dumpster.

So let's all just team up and tell stories about how horrible she is and complain and maybe she'll get the hint and disappear.

Wishful thinking is the key to life. It is.

But alas, this is my latest shindig with Flow:

Flow came a whole 1.5 days late this week.

This is not okay. It is never okay.

I flipped. I freaked. I panicked. I paced. 

But she came. So it's A okay. 

There are no bumps ahead other than my decision on whether to drink a marg or sangria with dinner tonight.

I digress...

So Flow came. 

She settled in better than a red neck in a La-Z-Boy during Monday Night Football.

But then the dark clouds parted, the sun shined down, birds rejoiced and for some unknown reason she went back to hell (which is her home ya know) a quick 48 hours later.

I was all like "Oh hey Flow thanks for not being a royal pain in my ass this month, you deserve a cookie. I could maybe get along with you if you were this good to me all the time."

Yeah right that's a lie. But still, I was a happy camper.

She was posted up in hell for a solid 36 hours. It was blissful, life was good.

I was even blissful enough to put on a thong (grossest word ever) and some white shorts to go out on the town in.

Looking back on it now I see the problem.

It was the WHITE shorts. I was just asking for trouble.

Flow was all like "Awwwwhhh hell no you aren't going to go out lookin' all pretty without me Miss Gray. I'm coming along to this little partay." 

That's right my friends she reared her red little head and came back to visit after disappearing for a day and a half.

But she didn't want to see me. Apparently I'm not cool enough to hang with Flow. 

She just wanted to hang out with my white shorts and paint the town RED while doing so.

That effing bipolar betch.