February 17, 2013 § Leave a comment
I don’t know if it’s being 30 or the fact that I feel like I’ve lost 2 years to being sick but I just feel like I am behind with all the things I want to do in my life. So instead of actually taking action I came up with a much more realistic plan. That’s right, I built a time machine and I am going to interview my two younger selves. I’m going to see what my 20 year old & 8 year old self thinks about where I’m at in life. Perhaps this will give me the much needed perspective.
My 20 year old self.
What are you wearing? “I didn’t really have any idea what to wear, time traveling and all so I thought my PJ’s would be most comfortable.”
So what is our life like, are we famous yet? “Um, not quite. We work at a school and freelance on the side.”
I guess that’s cool. What about our boyfriend is he hot? Is he covered in tattoo’s & has a faux hawk? “Actually he’s a Republican who wears brown loafers and all different kinds of argile.”
“Is he at least in a band? ” He played the trombone in marching band.”
Why are you sweating? “Oh, it’s the hot flashes”
Wait how far in the future are you? “Oh, yeah you should probably know. We are going to go through menopause before 30.” Stunned Silence.
“Let’s change the subject. What are you going to do tonight?” I have no idea. Hopefully some friends will stop by and we’ll probably go out later. It’s way to early to tell.
“It’s almost 7:00pm on a Tuesday and you have school tomorrow. Maybe if you studied more we wouldn’t be working at a crappy job. Sorry, it’s the hormones.”
“Well it’s getting late. But I want to leave you with some advice: Don’t spend all your money on VHS tapes they are going to useless in a few years, don’t bother buying pregnancy tests, your infertile, go nuts, don’t eat anything in a mall food court and wear nice underwear everyday because we are going to get hit by a drunk driver & will be seen by the entire medical staff in our granny panties.”
It was nice meeting you, I guess. Hey, can you buy me alcohol before you leave?
So a case of Mikes Hard Lemonade later, I was on my way to visit my 8 year old self.
” Thanks. What are you doing?” Finger painting!!! I love drawing so much.
“Well in the future that will be part of your job.” Wait, we get to draw all day and get money for it. That’s so cool. “I guess it is cool.”
What’s being grown up like? “It’s pretty much the same, we live a little town with a pretty great guy.” Ewwwww. Boys are gross. “Yeah most of the time. Plus we have two cats.” Kitties!!!
Do you want some of Lip Smackers chap stick? It’s Dr. Pepper flavored. “I think I will thanks.” I would invite you into my blanket fort but it’s almost time for dinner. We are having grilled cheese & dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets.Want some?
“No. You actually become a vegetarian.” Your silly!!
“Anything you want to ask me before I go?” Do we ever get to meet Minnie Mouse? “Yep. We have been to Disney World, Italy, New York City, Maine all over really.”
I get to live by myself with kitties, draw all day and stay up as long as I want.Plus you get to wear your PJ’s when it’s not bed time. I can’t wait to grow up, it’s going to be so cool!!
November 29, 2012 § Leave a comment
When you have menopause when you are in your twenties you get to have ads sent to for the next 40 years of your life. Most are ridiculous(ok all of them are) and clearly have no idea what a women going through menopause actually wants or needs. Quite frankly I would like to not be reminded of menopause every time I open up my inbox, what happened to the good old days when all I had to worry about was pyramid schemes and sex toy spam. Instead I am being stalked by the AARP. So attached is the newest email I got to look at. For all of those you who might be new to menopause first welcome and second these offers might be very tempting but let me breakdown this ad for you. Clearly this woman has never been through menopause, how do I know? well firstly she is smiling in her underwear. No woman who has just had abdominal surgery is happy when she looks at herself in her underwear. Oh, but she has a towel to wrap around her, after a hysterectomy I needed a wedding tent to completely cover up. Secondly, read the headline “Doctor’s Breakthrough” I hate to say this but no doctors are working on this they have erectile dysfunction to work on, it’s probably just Bayer Aspirin in a pink bottle. Third, there’s no such fucking thing as “menopause belly” if it existed why is it in quotes. Lastly, this woman looks like she is on the way to the beach, NO woman experiencing hot flashes is on her way to the beach. Your daily life is a day at the hot beach, you want to sweat you can just stay inside your house you don’t have to lie on hot sand. I have never heard a menopausal woman say ” I’m hot as hell you know what will really cool me off and day under the hot sun”
November 21, 2012 § 1 Comment
Oh you read the headline right, I pretty sure I am like a magnet to a compass only I destroy all uterus’s that come in my vincity. I’m pretty sure I might be the Bermuda Triangle of reproductive health.About two weeks ago we started to see a stray cat at our back door and slowly began trying to lure it with food (hell I would go into a strangers house if they had random free treats), finally we built up enough trust to get her inside. We had every intention of giving her a warm bed and meal and then off to our local shelter in the morning. However 1 hour later and one huge set of Puss’n’Boots eyes later it was pretty clear she wasn’t going anywhere. The next day I had a appointment with the vet to get her checked out, as they ran all the tests I was in the waiting room ready Dog Fancy. The vet soon called me back and gave me a run down of all the things wrong with her but easily fixed but then came this statement “and she’s pregnant!” “Pregnant?” Great of all the kittens I had to take in I got the town tramp.Oh god what if she was a cat hooker and her pimp will be coming looking for her. As understanding as Ben had been about one cat I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to be able to hide a littler of kittens (although I was already starting to think of hiding places, that’s not a kitten it’s just one of those googly eye cat clocks) As I was absorbing this information he leaned in, looked both ways and whispered “However, we can fix that with the spay, if your beliefs allow you” Holy crap he’s talking about a kitty abortion (perhaps I’m naive but I didn’t know there was such a thing) I am a feminist by nature and always vote for pro-choice but I didn’t know the rules for cats. Then I had this vision of me walking in the door and being surrounded by cat protesters with their pro-life signs & heckling us by throwing cat toys. Would she be shunned by the community & become an outcast amongst the other animals. Does Roe vs Wade apply to cats?
Let me fast forward to the next appointment where the vet comes out and says “Well she’s not pregnant she just has an infected, inflamed uterus” (Ahhh this brings me back) With that information my new kitty had to have a hysterectomy. After all the drama that I had to go through to get one I was a little amazed all it took was me saying “Ok”. No “what if she wants children someday?”, “she’s not getting any younger” or “maybe she should go home and ask her husband first” (oh yeah that happened to me) Just hey she’s sick lets take it out. She didn’t have to put her paw on a paper that said “we can’t put it back” (yes that happened to me as well) Just a 3 days, mine took me just under 10 years.
Last night we were all curled up on the couch me, Ben, Page (our first cat) and Zephyr (our new cat) not one uterus between the four of us. I’m sure Ben was feeling out numbered and thanking his lucky stars that cats don’t go through menopause or he wouldn’t have a chance.
October 21, 2012 § Leave a comment
Tonight I got to watch my niece get ready for her first homecoming dance & I discovered one of the reasons getting older sucks. It’s not the number, or the fact you fall asleep at 9:00, it’s not even the fact that you are holding on to the hope to one day fit back into those jeans, it’s the fact that nothing is as exciting as those moments when you are growing up. Seriously, what is as fun as going to your friends house the night of a dance, all of you packed in the bathroom & putting on your makeup (horribly I might add) & having someone else do your hair? When’s the last time you felt as pretty as when you were in high heels that didn’t really fit & lip smackers Dr. Pepper flavor, was the height of sophistication? Was my prom like it was in Pretty in Pink, heck no I’m still waiting for Andrew McCarthy to show up and no one ever spiked the punch(seriously in movies where do those kids get a flask, I’m 30 and don’t know where to get a flask).
What was my prom like you might ask? First of all I went with a closeted junior so he was more interested in the waiters than he was of me. I also learned never go to any event with a man who wears more glitter than you do. Anyway, I really wanted to go with John and I was absolutely head over heels for him and the whole night I just hoped for the perfect high school movie ending (him & his date would be dancing and he would look at me and realize he had been in love with me this whole time, he would push her out of the way and ask me to dance and then a slow song from Ricard Marx would come on-Perfect ending). Instead the dance ended and me and my friends had a sleep over and ate Doritos all night-whats better than that? And that was my point of my rambling (yes there was a point) even though the night wasn’t perfect it was still full of possibilities.(PS if you were hoping for me to say I found John on Facebook years later and he was fat & ugly, I hate to tell you but he is even better looking, has a full head of hair & owns a boat-but on the flip side my gay date is a now male go-go dancer in NYC)
So it got me and my sister law trying to think of what our age comparison would be and we figured attending weddings is the closest thing us grown ups get to an “adult prom”. Some comparisons:
- Highschool Dance: You keep hoping that the boy you like will pull you in his arms Weddings: You hope that creepy guy in the corner doesn’t grap your ass during the locomotion
- Highschool Dance: You hope for a slow dance so you have an excuse to get close to your date Weddings: You pray they won’t play a slow song because you have no idea where the hell your date went to or he’s part of the weeding party so you are forced to sit alone
- Highschool Dance: You are so excited to get dressed up & put on makeup Weddings: You wonder why the hell you had to dress up on a Saturday, this is the day for PJ’s. You have to get dressed up everyday for work the last thing you want to do is have to do your hair on a weekend
- Highschool Dance: Your date buys you a corsage Weddings: Your date buys you shit & complains about how he’s stuck at this wedding
- Highschool Dance: You get to have a sleepover at your friends house Weddings: The only time is acceptable to stay with your friends is when your house is flooded or full of bugs
- Highschool Dance: There’s free food!! Weddings: You had to buy them a $80 blender to get a crappy piece of chicken
- Highschool Dance: You go home floating on cloud nine Weddings: You wonder how the hell that troll looking girl just got married and you are still without a ring
- Highschool Dance: You look forward to see the poster go up in the gym for the next dance Weddings: You get your invitation and you wonder if you can pretend it got lost in the mail
- Highschool Dance: You will never feel prettier Weddings: As a bridesmaid, you will never feel uglier
- Highschool Dance: You are embarrassed that your parents had to drop you off & then pick you up Weddings: You wish you had someone to drive you because there is an open bar
August 2, 2012 § 3 Comments
I recently had a striking loss in my life, that’s right my favorite bra is on it’s last legs (well straps). You know that bra that no matter what outfit you have on it makes you look amazing. The bra that no matter what cut of neckline it always works. The bra that somehow never needs adjusting and is so comfortable you can sleep all night in it. You know the bra that when you finally find the perfect size, cut, brand and color; they suddenly stop selling. I mean it’s like it never existed not online or in the stores. Ask the saleswoman and she’ll give you a blank stare like you have invented a ghost bra that never existed. Did little bra elves and fairies drop this one bra in the store just for you and then never to be heard from again? But needless to say when you have “the bra” you want to keep it for as long as humanly possible, you make sure it goes in the locked safe just in case you get robbed.
Unfortunately the other day it happened. I was lifting a huge box and I hear a rip (I was overjoyed to see my pants were still in tact and my ass was not exposed) But upon closer inspection I found that my favorite bras underwire had broken in two and was jetting outside of the fabric. That’s right I have worn it so many times that the metal gave way. Now what would a normal person do? They would buy a new bra and be done with it. What did I do? I got some medical tape and taped it back together. So my beautiful black lace bra now has a huge mass of plastic tape around the bottom. Yes I am aware that it looks insane and probably looks as ridiculous as those people that attach their car windows with duct tape and plastic bags, but I was not giving up hope.
So I am wearing my bra and quite frankly pretty darn impressed with myself and my combination of MacGyver & Project Runway smarts. From the outside you can’t even tell, like always it looks perfect and my outfit looks amazing. So I didn’t hestitae wearing it to my doctors appointment. It was just a rountine checkup, he usually just asks me to breathe, checks my throat and I’m out of there. We are in the middle of take a deep breathe in, when he says “Michelle Your breathing is a little uneven and your heart rate is a little elevated I would like to an EKG just to make sure there’s no cause for alarm. I’m going to get a nurse in here but I need to you get in a gown but you can keep your bra on” Then it hits me, not that I might have some weird heart diesease but I a wearing my bra that is held together by tape and dreams.Shit what the hell am I supposed to do? I guess I could run out of here & blame it on the hormones, it also occurs to me that I could just take off my bra but that would mean the nurse is walking in on some crazy topless woman.No I have to accept what is coming, so I take a deep breathe and the nurse starts putting wires on my chest and then hones in on the huge patch of tape wrapped around the underwire of my bra. I can tell she doen’t want to bring attention to her staring but really she can’t pull her eyes away she’s really trying to figure out what the hell is going on or thinking “She didn’t look homeless when she walked in” She went the route of ignoring it completely (which was fine with me, we will both ignore the crazy woman in the bra held together by tape) just when I thought I was out of the woods I heard the following “We aren’t getting an accurate reading I need to slip this under your bra” (I still believe she just came up with this to get closer to my tape bra) I start to take off the bra and realize that with it being so hot today the tape has actually melted onto my skin and I’m going to have to rip this off like a friggin band-aid. So with a huge smack I finally got it off and realized it was time for a new bra (Maybe?)
May 20, 2012 § Leave a comment
For my birthday I posted the 10 reasons it’s better to be 30 than 20 but I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t also do a post of 10 things that get worse in your 30’s (Sorry but I can only be an optimist for a limited time)
At 20: When I got a phone call at 10:00 pm on a Friday I thought “Alright there’s a party somewhere” At 30: I get a phone call at 10:0o pm on a Friday and I think “Oh great someone’s been in an accident or dead”
At 20: They were just “my jeans” At 30: They are “My skinny, one day I hope to fit into them again jeans” ( I secretly keep them in my closet still convinced that my new dryer shrank them)
At 20: When my mom used to take me to a movie in the middle of the week I used to give her an eye roll when she said “Why is it so packed on a weekday? Don’t these people have jobs or school?” At 30: I recently went to see Hunger Games on a week day (the first showing because tickets are a $1.00 cheaper) and as we pulled into the parking lot I caught myself saying “Why are these kids here isn’t there school? Is it a holiday? Don’t these parents work?” (Kind of a double whammy because you catch yourself saying things your mother said and you vowed to never say them when you got older)
At 20: I used to be able to eat anything I wanted At 30: My meal choices are based on whether I have to be up early the next day or if I remembered my heartburn pills.
At 20: I used to date guys with mohawks, black eyeliner and neck tattoos. At 30: I see a group of those guys and I wonder what they are up to.
At 20: Listening to Nirvana and Pearl Jam meant you were rebellious and on the cutting edge of music At 30: No one knows who the hell Nirvana is and they are under Classic 90’s on Pandora.
At 20: A Saturday night out consisted of bar hopping, going to one of our boyfriends shows (that’s right we all dated musicians back then) and not getting home until 2:30 am Sunday At 30: A Saturday night out is picking up my Chinese food
At 20: Dinner was anytime after 9:00 pm At 30: We try to have dinner at 5:00 to “beat the crowds”
At 20: I only took naps when I was sick At 30: The promise of a nap is sometimes the only thing that gets me through a day
At 20: Moving only took a half a day and only cost you a case of beer At 30: I have put off moving for 3 years because I worry it will be mistaken for a Hoarder intervention
May 19, 2012 § 3 Comments
Last year I turned 30 and went through menopause all in the same year, so one would think I would have nothing to fear from this birthday (I mean short of me being in the same room with all my ex’s, me gaining 30 pounds or suddenly realizing they forgot to take out my uterus this should be a piece of cake…mmmmm. I want cake) So I was really surprised with the growing anxiety of my impending birthday. You know those people that say things like “age is just a number” and “your only as old as you feel” well frankly they piss me off and they are only saying it because either they are a hell of lot younger than you or because they know they look friggin’ old. Also I just heard some annoying jackass on TV refer to 30 as being middle-aged, they should censor shit like that. If you are going to fine Janet Jackson (Miss Jackson if your nasty) for showing her boob ( I’m sorry her middle-aged boob) then the FCC should fine that idiot,t00.
So in celebration of me turning 30 (for the second time) I am listing 10 instances of why I’m glad I’m 30 and not 20 anymore:
At 20: I once had a boyfriend who waited a month to break up with because he wouldn’t have a ride to school At 30: My boyfriend owns his own car (and it runs)
At 20: 2 items from the dollar menu came dangerously close to over-withdrawing my bank account At 30: I have overdraw protection and a savings account
At 20: I thought all wine came in a box At 30: I actually have unopened bottles that I’m purposely saving
At 20: I used to buy Bartles & James from my local Rite Aid At 30: I visit wineries & local vineyards
At 20: I only owned one pair of shoes At 30: I have a cute pair for every outfit and occasion
At 20: Some of my part-time jobs included ( I am not making these up): Magicians Assistant, Face Painter, Merch Chick for local punk band, Living Art Model and Thrift Store Sorter At 30: I teach students in their twenties
At 20: Some of my ex boyfriends included ( I’m not making these up either): A Magician, An anarchist, a guy who looked like a pterodactyl, a guy who had the entire Lord of the Rings story tattooed on his arms, a guy named Cooter, a guy who roller bladded inside the house and a guy who asked to borrow $20 bucks to get to another girls house At 30: Dating the same man for 7 years (even if he irons his sweater vests, weirdo)
At 20: Always worried that I was pregnant At 30: Never have to be worried about pregnancy again
At 20: Was trying to get everyone to like me At 30: Everyone should like me because I’m so friggin awesome & if they don’t they are obviously the person with the problem
At 20: I thought 30 was really far away At 30: 40 seems right around the corner (wait that’s not better, shit)