Interview with my 20 year old & 8 year old self

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. 

Scan 5“Well hello 20 year old Michelle.” Oh my gosh is that really what my hair is going to look like in 10 years. “Well yeah.”  And we have glasses, ever thought about contacts?

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.

Scan 4“Hello 8 year old Michelle.” “Hi, hey your wearing glasses and they are pretty and sparkly”

” 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!!

Advertisements

{ One of the greastest products EVER & it’s not even brownies }

August 28, 2012 § 2 Comments

 

I was at the grocery store to pick up some bread and I mean real bread people, not whole wheat. Right now there is a stigma to buying anything bread related I swear I could by a bag of crack in an alley and get less disgusted looks than when I buy white bread. Yes, white bread made from Hell’s Kitchen and prepared in the devils oven-but I digress. So as it frequently happens I go in for one thing get distracted by free cheese samples and then suddenly find myself lost in unknown aisle completely confused on how I got there.

This particular instance I am amongst the Depends and female lubricant looking for a way out when I see something amazing. If you are the type of person that does not want to read someone going on about a new product please skip ahead to the end if you don’t mind me gushing over my new found love please read on. So tucked between the hemorrhoid cream, the adult diapers and basically any other product that makes you terrified to get old, there they were. Poise hot flash wipes and hot flash roll on gel. Yes that’s right body wipes that give off a cooling sensation and a roll on gel that guarantees cooling relief for up to 10 minutes-sweet glory! I load these two things in my cart because I don’t care if they are $100 at this point if these work I have found the holy grail of menopause. I get them home and can’t wait to try them so I wipe my face with the cloth & put the gel on my neck-Nothing! Damn I am defeated, well it was worth a shot. So I go about my business start preparing dinner (grumbling on about how some man must have invented these products of deception to give desperate women false hope-did I mention I’m generally crazy) and then all of a sudden it was like I had just entered the arctic circle. You know those commercials where they bite it to a York peppermint patty and they are suddenly dancing with penguins and sliding down igloos-it was like that. It instantly cools your whole body down & totally gets rid of the hot flash/sweat, I think I finally felt what the actual temperature was for the first time in 2 years. Now my instant reaction was to cover myself head to toe with the gel and wrap my face in the cloths, however I resisted temptation because realistically the gel was $7.00 for a small tube so I now was guarding it like Gollum & his precious, thinking any minute the hobbits would be there to take it from me.

There are just two things I wish they did differently 1) Please be aware not all women having hot flashes are on the Golden Girls and maybe find a better place to put this product. It’s not that I’m embarrassed to hang out amongst the female lubricants, denture cream and the prune juice, but I just feel left out as a customer. 2) On the product it says for women over a certain age and I am no where near that age and I have hot flashes, between AARP membership applications coming in the mail & having to make appointments to discuss my menopausal levels I would like one less product to make me feel well beyond my years.

*Poise has not paid me to endorse their product in any way, but if they would like to send me a huge box of these I would no send them back.-Hint, Hint Poise.

{ duct tape & the D cup }

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?)

{ Much Ado About Thirty }

May 20, 2012 § Leave a comment

a typical Friday night in my 20’s

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

a typical Friday night in my 30’s

{ it’s my birthday & i’ll cry if i want to }

May 19, 2012 § 3 Comments

me at 20

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)

me at 30

{ starting off on the wrong foot }

February 14, 2012 § Leave a comment

There is nothing quite like starting off your week with having to schedule 4 different appointments at 4 different locations, which means talking to 4 different offices. I always try and give the people that answer the phones at these places the benefit of the doubt because god only knows what they have to encounter in a day but when they say the following it makes it really hard:

I would like to schedule a sonogram. “For what?” My thyroid (more posts on this later.) A Big Huff. “Well did a doctor order this or do just want to come in?” (Yes you heard that right do I just want to come in?) “Because you have to have a doctor order the test and I don’t have any papers in front of me.” Ok. But I have slip saying I need to make an appointment with you for this test by my doctor. “Well how do I know you aren’t just saying that?” (Let’s take a minute and ponder this. Who in there right mind would make up a test just so they can go and have an uncomfortable procedure on their neck. Did I miss something, are there actually groups of people that hard up on ideas of what to do on a Friday night? Geee “Hello Imaging Center.” Yes instead of dinner let’s sneak into an Imaging Center get unneeded tests & instead of tipping a waiter pay a huge ass deductible, Yes a perfect date night.)

{ stupid question saturday }

May 28, 2011 § 1 Comment

As you might have read I recently turned 30 and I have gotten a lot of positive stories but also a lot of pity looks some like you would see when someone has just told you their parent is in the hospital, some expected and some totally unexpected. None as unexpected as the last conversation with my pharmacist, that’s right my pharmacist.

On my monthly sometimes weekly trip to the pharmacy to pick up my sack full of medicine (seriously if you looked in my bag you would think I’m selling narcotics, but then you would see my car and bank statements & that would quickly change your mind). I go up to the woman and tell her my address and birth date . “Oh it looks like someone just had a birthday” Yep last Thursday “Well happy belated birthday(Big Smile), Oh 30 huh(Smile Gone)” (I hate people that can calculate that shit in their heads) U huh ” I remember my 30th my little sister tortured me about it for a whole month, she kept sending me over the hill cards. It was a really tough birthday” so i said I feel the same way, why do you think I’m on so many meds. She stopped gave me a blank, horrified look.”Seriously? Do you need to see our pharmacy counselor?”

 

Where Am I?

You are currently browsing entries tagged with turning thirty at does this hysterectomy make me look fat?.

%d bloggers like this: