Thursday, October 28, 2010

shit or get off the pot

There are certain requirements once we reach that 50+ demo that, as kids, we swore we would never indulge in. I found that out as a young girl when I would overhear my mom and my nana talking on the phone. It was mandatory that you discuss your bowel movements. I'm not sure why that was a necessity, but it seemed to really be an important matter to them both. There was never a conversation without discussing their daily bowel habits. I figured that once I became 50 or older...I would have to discuss my potty dealings with all my adult counterparts. It was just part of the evolution of aging.

There are also certain tests that are required once you cross over that 50 age limit. Two of my favorites...the mammogram and the colonoscopy. I can't tell you how much I have looked forward to these all my life. Who would have ever thought I would actually reach that age where I had to partake in these wonderful assessments of my breasts and my asshole (ok, my colon...but asshole IS involved!). But here I am to tell you exactly how I feel about these two exams.

Mammo' we women so endearingly refer to them. Please tell me why the "thing" has to squish your breast til it wants to explode. And why can't they make that plate warm? Is there something written in the American Journal of Medicine that says make it as cold as you can so as to freeze the frickin' breast til it cracks? Maybe we can see ice cubes shoot out of her nipples? I also believe the technician runs her hands under cold water before she handles your ta-ta's. Then she discusses it with the other technicians about how we flinched and almost smacked her in the face until she pressed our tits so hard we couldn't catch our breath. And let's not take just a couple of pictures...let's take 4-8 we can squish it so many times to see her tolerance. And if you have breast implants...we wanna see if we can pop those suckers! Then let's make her wait to see if they came out ok...but let's tell her..."oh...sorry...this one isn't clear. We need to do your left breast all over again". Uh huh...yeah...THAT's gonna happen.''  Just let me leave and you won't lose your life.

Colonoscopies...have you ever had a colonoscopy? Because if you haven' will never understand the "scope" of what I'm going to describe! The procedure itself...piece of cake. The have got to be kidding me. I never knew so much shit could come out of one little body, that came out of mine. In my wildest poor little butt has never seen the toilet that often in my 56 years, as it did in these 4 or 6 or 8 or whatever frickin' hours of prep it took for my wonderful colonoscopy. Let me say that word again...COLON-FUCKING-OSCOPY.

OK...I'm good.

Jello...if I never see another bite of jello in my entire will be too soon. I hated it before my prep...and I hate it even more now. I ate an entire VAT of jello...the size of Jupiter, because that's pretty much all I could eat. And it couldn't be had to be some other color that I can't stand. So I ate orange. If I never see the color orange will be too soon. Are you getting the picture? Oh yeah...I was allowed BROTH. I could VOMIT. Broth? So I got this broth and put it in a cup and microwaved the shit out of it and held my nose as I sipped cup after cup of BROTH! What the fuck is broth anyway? Does it have a purpose other than being part of the diet of a colonoscopy patient? Not being a cook, I'm not familiar with broth...but after tasting it...I don't understand why it's even a product that someone may purchase. It's absolutely disgustingly vile.

So...jello and broth will never be a part of my existence until my next colonoscopy. Can't wait for THAT day!

The laxatives...oh my g-d..seriously!!!! I wish it was an out of body experience but it couldn't be any more IN body than it was. My poor little tushy! The laxatives and drink combined are supposed to "irrigate" my body. And the preparation is supposed to "prepare" you for what's going to happen. Well...let me tell you...there was no preparation for this shit but there definitely was irrigation! When it hit...and I bee lined for the toilet. I was like an offensive tackle. You get in my way...I'm gunning you down. The toilet was my best friend for the next 8 hours. Who ever knew that a body could hold this much shit without turning brown. I felt like I was shitting out every organ of my body. I'm surprised there are still body parts left within me. I kept looking in the toilet to see if I could identify which organ decided to streamline it's way out of my ass hole. The body is a strong vehicle. Because if every single thing doesn't come pouring out of you during this have conquered the colonoscopy. I have permanent half moon imprints in both my cheeks. And I take pride...I HAVE conquered the colonoscopy!

And I don't need one for another for 10 lucky am I!

But the great thing much as I hated these exams...I am so thankful for them. And don't ever let anyone ever dissuade you from them. They suck...but they are life saving and you couldn't ask for anything more. And just, too, could have a great experience to share! asshole to asshole!

Friday, October 22, 2010

X-RATED (only because i have kids!) at your own risk...SEXUAL CONTENT, FOUL LANGUAGE

Don't you think it's a little bit ironic that what a woman goes thru in her later years of life incorporates the word "MEN" into her hormonal progression? Men - o - pause! Are they stopping our lives....are they holding us back from the sexuality that we would have? That really makes no sense. That's not what it is. Men would never hold us back from our sexual drive! Men are not the problem, they are the innocent victims. Then what is it? Because I am certainly not going to man bash....I love men. I love them as husbands....I love them as friends...I love them in any capacity as long as they are good to me and allow me to be good to what is it that makes me as a 50+ year old woman not want to jump all over that? It’s not for their lack of trying! It’s……………………………………….


Our wonderfully predetermined hormonal imbalance that decides who we are going to become over the age of 50, whether we like it or not. Who we will become whether it has anything to do with where we came from, or if we have a choice. Seriously? Who is this sexually dormant woman within this previously sexually active body? Hello?????? Are you in there??? Yoo hoo….come out!

WTF! I want my old persona back. I want that person from 10+ years ago that wanted to jump on every guy who walked past me. He didn’t have to be great looking, he didn’t have to be an athlete, he didn’t have to be wealthy, he didn’t have to have a brain…he just had to have a penis! A functioning penis. That’s all I wanted. And now…who gives a shit. Vibrators are working for me just fine…and even those…are feeling a little slighted sitting in my drawer.

Ahhhh….a penis…how I long for those days! But I digress…

Hair has become an integral part of my every day life. I believe they are called whiskers. Whiskers were what would rub against MY face after a day’s hair growth from my boyfriend/husband. Whiskers was the name of my neighbor’s cat. Whiskers are now part of my monthly hair removal regimen. Thank you menopause. The ever sprouting goatee is looking just fine.

Dry as a desert. Since there are men and women reading this (and possibly my kids)…I won’t go into detail. But what actually happened to becoming wet? The deluge also stopped with the demon called menopause. And those hormonal crèmes…yeah…love the globs secreting during the next 24 hours of injection. Very sexually romantic to have wet patches in your undies. And now I know why someone invented mini pads! Which will eventually grow and develop into Depends.  Can’t wait for THAT transition.

Sleep…I seem to remember that there is something called a good night’s sleep. I believe it had to do with getting a certain amount of hours in ONE nite. HUH? That really doesn’t ring a bell to me. Suffice it to say…5 hours on and off…is one of the best nights I could ask for. Oh…and for the night sweats…changing my sheets on a daily basis…and my sleep wear…has become very profitable for Victoria Secret and Bed, Bath and Beyond.

So what have I left out?  Oh yeah…that lack of elasticity left in the skin…the droopy, saggy cheeks that are now just baggage left from earlier years. Jowls…I could pack an entire suitcase into those cheeks. That’s a whole other story on plastic surgery…to be continued.

Let’s get back to sex…

I want my sexuality back. Or should I say my sexual drive back. My sexuality has always been there.  I don’t give a shit about anything else…just give me that. I’ll live with the moustache and beard, I’ll live with the night sweats, I’ll live with the whatever else…but give me back the desire to jump the next guy that crosses my path and absolutely love not caring who he is…I just want to love it! I miss it. I want it. And for those women who say “now that it’s gone” they don’t miss it…I say BULL FUCKING SHIT!

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

The Art of Patience

I'm a relatively patient person...for the most part...but I have to say...there are just some things I absolutely can NOT hold my tongue from lashing out and showing my frustration. Or at least...I don't want to hold it. It's definitely a test of endurance. There are just some scenarios that warrant a whip lashing to those who are so frickin' oblivious it's absolutely ridiculous...

Seriously...I was in the bank today and this elderly woman...and these days I can't really say elderly with such emphasis since I'm almost at that age as it is...but she came into the bank...put a piece of gum in her mouth (on her obnoxiously painted red lips)...and smacked it so hard I thought her lips would peel off from her skin. There is no way that her hearing could stand the volume that resounded in her head. I actually had to look around to see what the noise was that was echoing thru the bank. I looked around and saw all the bank employees snickering with disbelief that this woman could actually function with that noise going thru her head. Are you f**king kidding me? How could she not realize that her lip smacking was the biggest attraction in BofA! Or in the 93012 area code at that moment! I believe that any dog alive…was covering their ears because of the decibel of that lip smacking! How her dentures didn’t fall out of her mouth to the floor was beyond me. I want to know the name of her dentist for future dental procedures.

Ok…on to more obnoxious things that bug me to death…men whistling in the super market. What makes food shopping a forum for practicing whistlers. Shut the f**k up! I do NOT want to hear that whistling while I’m shopping…I don’t even know what to name it…it’s just down right annoying…so stop it!

Along the same lines…stop playing with the change in your pockets! Don’t you know that you can now go to a machine and turn that change in to cash! GO DO IT! I don’t want to hear it in your pockets anymore!!! SHOW ME THE CASH!

Do you know that popcorn does not have to have the lip smacking sound that they portray in the movies. You can actually take a bite without others hearing it. Try it some time…it really does work! And keeping your mouth closed while you’re chewing…a bonus…extra points for that one. Taking one kernel at a time…makes for much quieter, subdued moments where you can actually HEAR what’s going on in the movie…and focus.

And now to the freeways…should I even start? Who gives out licenses these days?  I believe I’ve touched on this subject before…so for now…I’m going to leave you with this…

If we have a relationship of any manner…and you think you may have any of these characteristics portrayed above…please do me a favor…if you can’t stop the behaviors prior to seeing me...Warn me…give me the opportunity to flee! Because I can tell you right now…no matter how gorgeous you may be, no matter how intelligent you may be,  no matter how wealthy you may be….it ain’t gonna be…the art of patience can just go so far. And unless you ARE all three…gorgeous, intelligent, wealthy…but you still smack your lips and jiggle your change but do NOT recognize it…you’re not on my A list.

Monday, October 18, 2010

what would YOU do?

is it possible that you can take too many road trips? i think i may be proving that's a fact. there are way too many things i think about now, that i didn't think about before i started traveling the many miles of the california freeways that i've driven over the past few years.

i started thinking about what i would do on my many travels if i saw a body on the side of the road. would i stop to investigate. would i stop to help. would i want to get involved. would you stop? think about it. could YOU drive by a body...possibly alive, and just keep going. could you live with that? i don't think i could. but then you think...if i stop...i could be implicated in some unforeseen involvement that was totally innocent. do i want to take that chance of being a suspect in something that i am nowhere near involved in? but what if i can help. what if i can really make a difference in a murder mystery. what choice do i really have. and if the person is alive...i could possibly save this person's life and make a difference. 

do you think i may watch too much TV? do ya think?

but really...saving someone!  how cool would that be? not only would you save that person, but you would be saving their family from so much pain! AND possibly helping catch some asshole who is going around doing whatever they are doing to destroy people's lives. so....the down side is??  i don't know if i can come up with a downside...except fear!

sometimes i almost want to see something that will cause me to make that 'on the spot' decision, to see where i would go with it...because you never really know until it actually happens. when people tell you " should have done this, or you should have done that"...unless you have actually been in that exact situation...don't tell me what i SHOULD do...because you have no idea! and i, personally, would never know until i am right there, on site, dealing with it. in ANY situation.

so don't ever let people tell you what you SHOULD do in any situation. until they have lived it themselves...they are no experts. and even then, no one can ever have the same experience you have in your own body and mind at the time you have it. it's yours alone...and yours to cherish!

and the moral of the story is...look straight ahead and keep your eyes on the road...because if you may encounter unsuspecting circumstances that could change your life forever. but then again...those life changing events...could be the most life shaping events you will ever experience.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Secrets: the Good, the Bad and the Ugly

You don't ever think a secret could impact another person in a life changing way, but the truth is, it can reshape the history of your existence. It can redefine who you are in the pecking order of life and define who you are today. It can have exponential repercussions on your existence without you ever realizing it.

The Good...The small, left out details that could be beneficial to a relationship, so as not to hurt the partner/the spouse/the child. Sometimes you just don't need to know history that could damage what you now have. It’s history, let the past be the past, as long as it's not negatively affecting the present.

The Bad...The details you think are better off left out, then discovered...having to do with the present. Not so good! Most likely...those secrets shouldn't be secrets. Actually, they probably shouldn't be actions that have ended up as secrets. BAD SECRETS! Divulge right away!

The Ugly...MAJOR details left completely out and years of hiding them. Then the guilt overtakes the soul...overtakes the body...overtakes your complete being and you have to let it all out. Devastation to those you divulge those secrets to. Secrets that no one in their present state of mind could ever imagine would be a part of their life. Those are other people's lives...real people don't have those kinds of secrets.

Those are the doozies! The Peyton Place secrets of  life. Who would have ever thought I would be the recipient of one of those secrets that would be life changing. But I was. And I'm still in shock. And it has changed my life completely. It has changed who I am, who I thought I was, who my family is, and why my family is who they are today. It has changed how I look at members of my family. And now it makes us all recognize why our personalities are who we are today. It now all makes sense. Why we have chosen the paths we have taken. Why we have treated each other the way we have. Why we have withdrawn, why we have suppressed, why we have denied, why we are who we are.

It has caused us to look at members of our family in a whole new light. It has given depth to personalities I once thought shallow. It has given me answers to questions I didn't even realize I was asking all my life.

Secrets...the good, the bad, and the ugly. Sometimes...they are shouting out to you...and you just don't hear them.

Monday, October 11, 2010

who's your favorite?

I remember sitting around with a few friends talking about our childhood and our pecking order and how that affects us in life. I was the youngest of three girls and obviously the favorite. So I thought. That didn't last too long! There definitely is a psychological affect on which level you are in that pecking order.

The oldest takes on the authoritative role...the "boss"...and only because we allow it. But we look up to them as having knowledge none of us will ever get because we weren't born as early as they were. And of course they know much more than any of us.

The middle sibling is the discombobulated one! Not sure where they they just feel they should take care of everyone...from parent to sibling to anybody who will let them. They forego their own life to take on the responsibilities of everyone else around them. And they are so caring and do you repay them and let them know how important they really are in so many lives.

The youngest....I think the youngest has it the best, for the most part...except for the hand-me-down clothes part. And the part where the two oldest screwed it up for the youngest by doing things they shouldn't have done and then the youngest suffers for it because now they can't do those things that their older siblings did without getting into trouble.

But aside from that...the youngest is kind of pampered as the "baby" of the family. The youngest is the last to there is so much agony over the empty nest that everything is done to keep that one home.

Not in MY family...but so I hear! I was pretty much pushed out the door. "Love ya...enjoy life...come visit!"

That's where I am in that pecking order of life.  The youngest. Thinking I'm the baby of the adorable am I? So one day I decided I was going to bring up favoritism with my parents. I knew I was my mom's favorite...or I deluded myself into thinking that. But I wasn't sure about my dads, although I thought I did. So we were sitting around the house one day, just my dad and I, and I said  "SISTER #1" (don't wanna use real names because if my family reads this, I don't want them to have a clue who I'm referring to) is your favorite, right dad? And he says "No, SISTER #2 is" and I said "oh...Thanks dad! Good to know I wasn't in the running!"

And there you have it!