The other day, I stumbled upon a "Real Housewives" episode on television. After watching a few minutes, I decided I would never qualify as a real housewife. Below are a few reasons why:
- My makeup is not thick enough to cut with a knife
- My girls do not jut forward with unnatural perkiness
- My hair does not bounce and swing while never moving
- My nails do not resemble five-inch scarlet talons
How do you stack up? (And, no, I'm not talking about the girls.)
Gem for the day: If you qualify as a real housewife, more power to you. If not, join me in the "fake housewife" section. I have a feeling that we have a lot more fun.
Friday, December 7, 2012
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Day 197, December 6
You may have heard about the Victoria's Secret fashion show that aired a couple of nights ago. How could we not hear about it--with those 6 foot models strutting their stuff on every television show around, including Hawaii 50?
I admire those women. After all, they've starved themselves to look like wraithes dancing through life while the rest of us feel like the Goodyear Blimp plodding and plowing our way, thankful when we don't have a piece of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of our shoes
I've always thought I could be a VS model. I just have to add another six inches, drop 120 pounds, let my hair grow so that I can toss it about my face in a sultry fashion, and project an aura of supreme confidence. Of course, there's the walk. You have to lead with your hips, stick your girls out, and then saunter your way down the runway of life on eight-inch stilettos, all the while sprouting angel wings.
Gem for the day: VS models are great, but it's too much trouble for this old menopausal broad.
I admire those women. After all, they've starved themselves to look like wraithes dancing through life while the rest of us feel like the Goodyear Blimp plodding and plowing our way, thankful when we don't have a piece of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of our shoes
I've always thought I could be a VS model. I just have to add another six inches, drop 120 pounds, let my hair grow so that I can toss it about my face in a sultry fashion, and project an aura of supreme confidence. Of course, there's the walk. You have to lead with your hips, stick your girls out, and then saunter your way down the runway of life on eight-inch stilettos, all the while sprouting angel wings.
Gem for the day: VS models are great, but it's too much trouble for this old menopausal broad.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Day 196, December 5
When I complained to a friend that I was running out of ideas for this blog, she suggested the blanket syndrome. You know the one I mean: blanket on, blanket off, blanket on, blanket off.
For those of you who haven't yet reached the Big M, you may not understand the reference. Hot flashes are sneaky. They attack with shocking speed and irritating irregularlity. The innocent victim may be fast asleep, cozied up under the covers when an HF assaults her. Nothing will do but that she toss the blanket off. The next moment, she's freezing, so she grabs that same blanket, that only a second earlier was offending her, and pulls it back over her.
And so it goes for the rest of the night. Blanket on; blanket off.
Don't even get me started on what this does to her sleeping partner.
Gem for the day: stick one foot outside the blanket. You'd be surprised at how much this regulates things.
For those of you who haven't yet reached the Big M, you may not understand the reference. Hot flashes are sneaky. They attack with shocking speed and irritating irregularlity. The innocent victim may be fast asleep, cozied up under the covers when an HF assaults her. Nothing will do but that she toss the blanket off. The next moment, she's freezing, so she grabs that same blanket, that only a second earlier was offending her, and pulls it back over her.
And so it goes for the rest of the night. Blanket on; blanket off.
Don't even get me started on what this does to her sleeping partner.
Gem for the day: stick one foot outside the blanket. You'd be surprised at how much this regulates things.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Day 195, December 4
There was a lot of heavy breathing, gasping, and panting going on in our bedroom the other day.
"It's too big," I said.
"Just lift it a bit more.
A bit more? I was already straining with every fiber of my being. Could I be having a heart attack? Or maybe it was a stroke. Hadn't I heard that menopausal women were subject to heart attacks and strokes when under stress?
No. It's not what you think. The Wretch and I were rotating the mattress. This mattress requires three strong men and a boy to lift, but The Wretch decided that together, he and I, were up to it.
Not so.
We finally succeeded in turning the mattress, then collapsed upon it. "I'm glad that's done," I panted out.
"We could do something more on it," The Wretch suggested, a leer in his eye.
"Get real."
Gem for the day: rotating a mattrress is all I'm good for in any given day.
"It's too big," I said.
"Just lift it a bit more.
A bit more? I was already straining with every fiber of my being. Could I be having a heart attack? Or maybe it was a stroke. Hadn't I heard that menopausal women were subject to heart attacks and strokes when under stress?
No. It's not what you think. The Wretch and I were rotating the mattress. This mattress requires three strong men and a boy to lift, but The Wretch decided that together, he and I, were up to it.
Not so.
We finally succeeded in turning the mattress, then collapsed upon it. "I'm glad that's done," I panted out.
"We could do something more on it," The Wretch suggested, a leer in his eye.
"Get real."
Gem for the day: rotating a mattrress is all I'm good for in any given day.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Day 194, December 3
By the time a woman has reached menopause, she is on intimate terms with the word "out." She is stretched out, stressed out, and strung out.
Let's examine these "outs" individually and perhaps shed light upon them:
Stretched out: nurse a few children for years at a time and your girls start to look like a worn-out pair of socks. They've lost their elasticity, their shape, their will to live. Depending upon the size of the girls, they may resemble anklets or tube socks.
Stressed out: anyone ever hear of stress incontinence? I don't want to get too up-close-and-personal with this one, but suffice it to say that put several pregnancies under your belt (and in your uterus) and you have a stressed out bladder. It's not just the bladder but all those tiny muscles surrounding it. Need I say more?
Strung out: all I can say here is that if a menopausal woman isn't on drugs, she should be. Big time.
Gem for the day: even if you're stretched, stressed, and strung out, celebrate that you're alive and still kicking.
Let's examine these "outs" individually and perhaps shed light upon them:
Stretched out: nurse a few children for years at a time and your girls start to look like a worn-out pair of socks. They've lost their elasticity, their shape, their will to live. Depending upon the size of the girls, they may resemble anklets or tube socks.
Stressed out: anyone ever hear of stress incontinence? I don't want to get too up-close-and-personal with this one, but suffice it to say that put several pregnancies under your belt (and in your uterus) and you have a stressed out bladder. It's not just the bladder but all those tiny muscles surrounding it. Need I say more?
Strung out: all I can say here is that if a menopausal woman isn't on drugs, she should be. Big time.
Gem for the day: even if you're stretched, stressed, and strung out, celebrate that you're alive and still kicking.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Day 193, December 2
A line from an old televsion show goes, "I'm not one to go through life with the back of my dress tucked inside my panty hose."
I used to be that person. Now I'm more likely than not to have the back of my dress tucked inside my panty hose. Or a stream of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of my shoe. Or something green in my teeth. Or a a wad of spit gathering at the corners of my mouth.
What can I say? I'm losing it, big time.
The good news is that I have friends who will let me know if I have a wardrobe malfunction, a toilet paper problem, green gunk, or spittle hanging from me. Women, especially menopausal women, need friends like that.
Gem for the day: if you have a friend who will pull your dress out of your panty hose, you have a winner.
I used to be that person. Now I'm more likely than not to have the back of my dress tucked inside my panty hose. Or a stream of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of my shoe. Or something green in my teeth. Or a a wad of spit gathering at the corners of my mouth.
What can I say? I'm losing it, big time.
The good news is that I have friends who will let me know if I have a wardrobe malfunction, a toilet paper problem, green gunk, or spittle hanging from me. Women, especially menopausal women, need friends like that.
Gem for the day: if you have a friend who will pull your dress out of your panty hose, you have a winner.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Day 192, December 1
With age comes wisdom. Or so they say (whoever that mysterious 'they' is). With silver hair and wrinkles come dignity. Give me a break. The only digity in silver hair and wrinkles belongs to the purveyors of hair color and face cream.
So what does come with age? Sore muscles and swollen joints. Hairs growing in places you never thought to find them. (Really. Who knew that I'd sport a two foot hair growing from my chin.) Cellulite that resembles the craters on the moon. Two stomachs. Sagging breasts. Ears that have developed a tendency to start a second growth spurt.
Is there anything good about menopause?
I've found a few things:
- if you've lasted this long, you know you're a keeper
- if your friends have stayed with you throughout the menopause journey, they're keepers as well
- if your husband or significant other has not murdered you during a sleepless night complete with hot flashes, he's probably all right (even if he is a wretch)
Gem for the day: count your blessings. If they outnumber your hot flashes, you're on the right track.
So what does come with age? Sore muscles and swollen joints. Hairs growing in places you never thought to find them. (Really. Who knew that I'd sport a two foot hair growing from my chin.) Cellulite that resembles the craters on the moon. Two stomachs. Sagging breasts. Ears that have developed a tendency to start a second growth spurt.
Is there anything good about menopause?
I've found a few things:
- if you've lasted this long, you know you're a keeper
- if your friends have stayed with you throughout the menopause journey, they're keepers as well
- if your husband or significant other has not murdered you during a sleepless night complete with hot flashes, he's probably all right (even if he is a wretch)
Gem for the day: count your blessings. If they outnumber your hot flashes, you're on the right track.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)