Monthly Archives: January 2015

Are You Trying To Tell Me Something??

photo (11)We’ve all heard about the witty ways a man has proposed to a woman, like hiring a skywriter to spell out, “Marry me, Sue?” I always await Sue’s hiring a second airplane to quickly fly back and respond, “No. But that was dramatic.” and a moment later, “PS.  And you know I go by Susanne, you cheapskate.”

There’s the inevitable placing a “hamburger bun in a microwave oven” to announce a pregnancy when the in-laws come for dinner. And I’ve seen all sorts of ways to disclose the gender of the unborn child as well — from decorating the room entirely in pink and watching the surprise of your unsuspecting spouse (“don’t you know you should open a window when you paint a bedroom?!!”) to wearing a tee shirt with snakes, snails and puppy dog tails on it. Yuck.

But why stop there?

Creative Ways To Tell Or Ask Anyone Anything!

1)  “I ran over a nail and now I have a Flat!” — Put a photo on Facebook depicting your spouse’s overweight mid-section hanging over a belted pair of pants. Draw a notorious red circle with a slash mark over it (like from ghostbusters) Get it? “No Spare Tire!” Wait on the street to see which of your clever friends comes out to help you or calls roadside assistance on your behalf.photo 2 (3)

2)  “Please empty the kitchen trash to the outside cans!” — Find an old Oscar the Grouch stuffed animal or figurine and lay him on the top of the kitchen pail with a thought bubble that says, “Help me. Please bring me home.”photo 1 (4)

3)  “I don’t want to cook tonight.” — Take a tweezers and carefully remove the old fortune out of a chinese cookie.  Write on a new tiny slip of paper, “Confucius say, ‘Ain’t no food happening here. Come to Hunan Garden!'”  Stuff back inside the cookie and leave on empty plate in middle of table.

4) “Son, please clean your bathroom mirror.” — Write on teen son’s mirror in red lipstick, “Mommy loves her deliciously handsome boy forever!”

5) “I got promoted at the office!” — Get out a large step-stool and keep climbing up it. (Note:  It may be tempting to change a light bulb while you are at the top, but this will send the wrong message.)  You are going for “Climbing the corporate ladder.”photo (9)

6) “That’s it! You’re not doing that to me ever again!”  —  bring home a straw dispenser from McDonalds and make sure there’s only one more left.

7) “I’ve got the flu” — Photoshop a picture of yourself with a lot of rain clouds, a sun, some snowflakes, and a big gust of wind all on top of your head. Put on Facebook. Wait and see who brings you chicken soup first.

8) “Sorry dear, I have a headache so we aren’t having sex tonight like you thought.” — Blow bubbles and keep popping them, looking very regretful.

9) “We’re going to Disneyland!”  You can surprise your child with a special call from Mickey Mouse himself to announce the trip!  Details HERE  But if he hasn’t done #2 or #4 on this list, you might want to proceed to #10.

10) “Ha-Ha, Gotcha! You believed me when I actually made the whole thing up.”  Get out a really thick knit sweater and put it on over your child’s head, stopping right below their forehead so they can’t possibly see anything through it.  After they realize you just “pulled the wool over their eyes,” be sure and blow some more bubbles and pop them ever so regretfully.

11.  “Little Miss Menopause, you’re cruel and your blog is awful. We’re finished!” — Go into WordPress preferences and uncheck the “Follow this blog” box.  Or you could just send me a break-up pizza instead?

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What are some unusual ways you have announced something?

 

 

 

 

 

How To Be SUPER Popular at the Super Bowl Party! (even if you don’t know football)

Don't Make this! Nobody is gonna thank you enough for the time you spend on these goal posts!

Don’t Make this! Nobody is gonna thank you enough for the time you spend on these goal posts!

HOPE FOR THE IGNORED GUEST!  DON’T BE LEFT OUT ON THE SIDELINES!

1. Make Guacamole. Just do this. Trust me. Even if you’re out of avocados. Use kiwis. These people won’t notice – – they’ll just keep dipping and dipping while hollering at that TV . . . The Big Dips.

2. Never say this – – “I don’t know why you folks don’t just record this stuff and watch it later so you can fast forward through all these silly commercials.” Never. Ever.

3. Football fans are an exuberant bunch. But they know their terminology. Before you attempt to chime in during an actual live play of the ball game, experiment with a commercial. (see # 2 to grasp the importance of Advertising) Try the following options: A) Clap uproariously at a Clydesdale. B) Shout, “Hold ’em! That’s the way!” to a Victoria’s Secret model. C) Throw a chip at the television and say, “Doritos?! They suck this year! My money’s on the Lays.”  D)  Boo loudly at “Go Daddy!”  They deserve it.

4. Casually introduce conversation with, “So how about that Joe Namath?” If this doesn’t get the reaction you are looking for, tell them you were a cheerleader for your brother in Pop Warner leagues. Note: This will only be effective if you can produce a photo. Still nothing? Remind them you brought the guacamole.

5. Wait until intermission to pass out copies of your latest Huffington Post blog. In case you don’t recognize when that occurs, it will be called, “Half Time.” One whole game = four quarters or two halves or forty nickels. I am still not sure if a Susan B. Anthony silver dollar might fit in with their formula or not.

6. If you are tired, don’t be offensive and yawn. Play defensively! Simply look at the clock (lower right hand side of the television screen) and if it says (only!) 2 minutes and thirty seconds are left in the game, you will now have time to play an entire game of Monopoly.

7. Look around for other wives and girlfriends that have that “I’m so bored, I could throw-up” green pallor on their face. Look closely. This could just be the guacamole. Engage them in a fashion review of the game. Tell them that you think shoulder pads and tight ankle pants are so 80’s. Casually remark, “Hey, I know what!! Let’s go in the other room and compose a Match.com ad for ourselves.”

8. You will eventually need to choose a side and root for them. Lemme help you. If you don’t mind rainy weather, I’d go with the Seahawks. Feeling patriotic? The Patriots are your men! Just don’t cheer for the guys with the black and white vertical pinstripes — they usually just stand around a lot.

9. Right about now, you’re probably ready to toss out some authentic, sporty vocabulary during the actual game. Wait until the room is in some sort of an uproar over a bad call, then holler, “A noose, a tree . . . let’s hang the referee!” It’s always safe to pick on a man who doesn’t weight 285 lbs, carries a whistle, and speaks in pantomime.

10. If none of this is working for you, continue nodding and being polite, offering all the uptight, nervous pacing men (and other guests who come in late) your spot on the sofa. Do this until every seat in the house is taken and you have to sit on the toilet in the bathroom. Bring guacamole.

Happy Super Bowl Sunday!

PS.  If you’re still bored watching the game, you can read my very first SERIOUS published article on The Huffington Post right HERE.  It’s about divorce.

A Dozen UNIQUE Cell Phone Camera Ideas … Because Life is Meant To Be Hacked

photo (7)I don’t own a regular camera so I was very interested in the unusual ways you can use your cell phone to capture “the moment.” I’ve now thought up ways that even Kodak would consider obsessive.

I know you’ve probably used yours to take inventory of what’s in your suitcase before traveling,  or even photographed your car so you remember where to find it at the shopping mall. Fun times. The attendant loves driving me around in his little security cart playing “Auto Findo” based on the crooked, blurry shot of my license plate adjacent to a trash dumpster. And if I weren’t Jewish I would use it to record where the Easter eggs were hidden so I wouldn’t have stale jelly beans under my television stand when Christmas came around. Don’t think about that one too long. I also don’t fish so there’s no sense in using it to remember which part of a stream the abalone were biting last week. See why I don’t fish?

So now without further ado . . . (and really what IS “Ado?” Can we capture it on film?)

 

Little Miss Menopause’s Unique (but not necessarily useful) Cell Camera Idea List

1)   While at the beach or pool, check out your backside to make sure you’re not getting sunburn. Then photograph other sun worshipper’s backs to prove to them they’ve had enough.

2)  When you loan out a book or a power tool to someone, take their picture holding the item so you’ll remember who has it. Pretty soon word will get out and unattractive friends will stop asking to borrow from you.

3)  Record for posterity the exact level of ice-cream in a partially eaten half gallon container before the babysitter comes over so you have evidence.

4)  Capture the covers displayed on your bathroom magazine rack when you have a clogged toilet so you can make sure and put different issues out next time the plumber visits.

The plumber wishes you would put Playboy out.

The plumber wishes you would put Playboy out.

5)  Snap your last haircut so you can bring it back to the stylist next time and insist she do it the exact same way. Alternatively, bring it to a new beautician and admonish her never to cut your hair like that. Ever.

6)  Take a picture of the hot/cold lever in the shower so you remember how it’s swiveled for just the perfect temperature. Do the same thing with the little dial on your toaster after you’ve crisped the perfect bagel.

This is a shower for Goldilocks! Not too hot, not too cold -- Just Right!

This is a shower for Goldilocks! Not too hot, not too cold — Just Right!

7)  Take a selfie of yourself thru a peephole of a front door so you know how far back to stand, what angle you should tilt your head, and how widely you should smile to make the best (concavely distorted) first impression.

8)  Click yourself each time you go to a funeral so you’re not wearing the same outfit. Do you want the dearly departed to think you only own one black dress?

9)  Take a picture of your child’s pouting/frowning face so next time you threaten that it will freeze that way, you will be able to illustrate.

10) Keep all photos of you, your friends and relatives (at concerts, parties, vacations) caught blinking and post them all online in an album called, “My New Narcolepsy Support Group.”

11) When your kids ask you to buy certain cookies or a junky cereal that you don’t want them to have, move all of this product aside in the grocery store and take a picture of the empty shelf (with price tag) to show they sold out. “Sorry, there was a big run on Lucky Charms cereal this week, guys.”

12)  Take a selfie both laughing and frowning – decide which expression causes the least amount of wrinkles.  Assume that expression 100% of the time during any emotional outburst.

There you go!  Now you can forget about using your cellphone as a mirror, that’s completely old school.  You have a dozen new ways to make your life more interesting.  And here’s a bonus.  Always forgetting where you leave your cell phone?  Take a picture of the location that you’re about to set it down in. Ta Da!  Don’t think about that one too long either.

Which one is your favorite? How about you?  Any unusual ways you’ve used your camera or video?

*See what I’m talking about on The Huffington Post just today (especially if you need a refresher course in driving!)  Click HERE.

 

Blogs R’ Us! (Almost Famous!)

photo-67Have you heard?  They are casting a new television show that will portray real life bloggers in their online funny personalities!  Eagerly filling out the application right here, I was disappointed to get an email back from the Big Wig in charge (at CBS no less!) saying I wasn’t quite what they were looking for. However, I wouldn’t let that stop me.  After seeing a therapist for my recent issues, I have a new found self-assurance in my creative talents.

If blogs are coming to television and they are already in the movies with films like Julie and Julia, surely there’s room for one or two more? The producer reluctantly agreed I could drop by today at 4 pm to present a few of my Blog concepts for Hollywood and some original titles.  I could just feel it – – I was about to become a television star.

Now you must understand something — I don’t want to be famous for me. That’s not it at all.  It’s my teachers from elementary school that never got any recognition that I’m thinking of. It’s been a lifelong dream of mine to have a show similar to Oprah’s where I can bring one onstage each week, while shouting, “Yoo hoo, Mrs. Gretchanbaum from 4th grade, come on out.”

I got a little lost inside the thirteen story building, but finally found the correct place and was surprised to find a “Blogs R Us” sign displayed on their door.  Wow, CBS must really be serious about bringing blogs to tv to have their own suite dedicated just for that.  It was warm and cozy inside with a fireplace in the entryway.

“Trust yourself and don’t take no for an answer,” was my new mantra after seeing my confidence-building therapist just this morning. As soon as I spied an important executive standing nearby I launched right in, belting out the words I’d rewritten to Gilligan’s Island:

“Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale,

A tale of a fateful blog,

That started from this quirky mind

After clearing her brain fog!”

When I concluded with my grand finale, “Here on Bloggagan’s Island!” they looked positively dazzled — so I continued without missing a beat to share some of my other ideas for titles.  I figured I would start with the classics:

  • I Blog Lucy
  • Captain Bloggeroo
  • Bloggie and Harriet
  • The Bloggerly Hillbillies
  • The Blog Newhart Show
  • Blogwitched
  • I Dream of Bloggy
  • Blogger Knows Best
  • The Bloggymooners
  • Leave It to Blogger
  • Blognanza
  • The Bloggy Bunch
  • Bloggie’s Angels
  • Laverne & Bloggy
  • Hill Street Blogs
  • Hawaii Blog-O
  • The Blog Boat
  • Welcome Back Blogger
  • Who’s The Blog?

Their expression darkened a bit however, and me being such a quick judge of age, I decided to throw out shows more from their generation than mine:

  • The Blogs of Hazard
  • The Blogsby Show
  • Blogney and Lacey
  • Bloggie Howser MD
  • The Fresh Prince of Blog-Air
  • Third Blog from the Sun
  • Bloggerly Hills 9021 . . .

“Sorry, who are you again?” A crowd started to form in the lobby.

“I’m Little Miss Menopause, but never mind the Little, I’m about to become the next Big Thing!”

“I believe that.”  He glanced at my figure.

“Please.  You haven’t heard the best one.  Blogfeld!  A show with a blog about nothing. Naturally I think I would be perfect for that one.”

“What’s she talking about?” A woman whispered.

“She seems to be under the impression we’re looking for television shows.”

In that moment I knew my approach was all wrong.  It was movies they wanted.  For the big screen.  Of course!  I switched to my best Scarlett O’Hara impression, “Oh Rhett . . .Where shall I go?  What shall I do?”

“Gone with the Blog!”  Someone shouted this out while snapping their fingers excitedly, as if playing Charades.

Whatever.  It was “Gone With the Words.”  But if they liked the other, I’d sell that too.  I took a deep breath and spouted out the rest. . .

  • The Wizard of Blog
  • Casablogga
  • King Blog
  • The Blog of Frankenstein
  • Sunset Blogavard
  • It’s a Wonderful Blog!
  • Invasion of the Bloggy Snatchers
  • Rebel Without a Blog
  • All the President’s Blogs
  • One Blogged Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
  • Night of the Living Blog
  • Seven Blogs for Seven Bloggers
  • The Blogfather
  • Blogshank Redemption
  • Rosemary’s Bloggy
  • The Lord of the Blogs
  • Bloggers of the Lost Ark
  • A Blogwork Orange
  • Who’s Afraid of Virginia’s Blog?
  • The Blogs of Wrath
  • Groundblog Day
  • The Silence of the Blogs
  • Smokey and the Blogette
  • Lawrence of Bloggia
  • To Kill a Bloggingbird

I paused to inhale.

“She forgot the classic horror movie, ‘The Blob.’  Would be really easy to tweak that.”

I gave her a dirty look.

“Look just give me a chance.  If it’s children’s movies you’re after, I have . . .

  • Mary Bloggins
  • Snow White and the Seven Blogs
  • Bloggy & the Beast
  • Bloggatouille
  • Honey, I Shrunk the Bl . . .

“Excuse me.  There seems to be some mistake.  We are NOT a production company for television OR movies.”

“You’re not?  But the sign on your door?”

“Oh, did they put that letter “B” up there again?  Every time the “B” falls off the sign on “CBS Studios” upstairs, the janitor mixes up the floors and puts it on our door instead.  We’re “Logs R’ Us.”  We sell everything you need to start a fire!”  He picked up a black iron poker as I moved toward the door.

photo-437

I took the stairs because it would be faster than the elevator. I arrived just as a salesman was walking out carrying a bunch of grates and fireplace screens.

“I’m here to pitch you some new blog concept shows,” I announced with the same enthusiasm I had downstairs.

“You’re too late,” the CBS executive said, humming ‘Come on Baby, Light My Fire.’  “That man you just saw leaving.  He works downstairs at “Logs R’ Us” and he was on fire with the ideas.  He just sold us  “Towering Blogferno” and “Blogdraft.”  They’re going to be hot BlogBusters at the Blog Office!”

Did I tell you I’ve always wanted to be a famous songwriter for Elvis? But you must understand — it’s not for me…it’s for this new blogging generation who doesn’t get to appreciate all his outdated songs.  Let’s see, there’s . . .

  • You Ain’t Nothing but a HoundBlog!
  • Heartblog Hotel
  • Jailhouse Blog
  • Suspicious Blogs…

 

 

A Little Support for Support Groups.

photo 2 (4)I decided to join a support group.  But even though I fit every description of every psychological disorder in every self-help book out there, I couldn’t find a group  that “got me.”  So I figured I would start my own. How hard could it be? Give the younger kids to my ex for the night, put some folding chairs in a circle in my living room, set out some grapes, and throw out a topic. Easy peasy lemon squeazy.  Oh and I might serve lemonade. That was always refreshing.

I put this announcement online:

Hi my name is Little Miss Menopause and I’m starting a support group. I worry a lot so I was thinking of calling it,  WWW– ‘Women Who Worry’  but we can tweak when you get here.

The first two calls were from women worried they didn’t know how to twerk, until I explained what I meant by tweak.

Since this was to be an anonymous support group, I will not use any names to convey the dialogue at our first meeting. It could be any woman saying these things.  And trust me, it was.

Is this for women who worry incessantly and want to stop?  Or for women who feel guilty they don’t worry as much as they should?

Well I worry that what I worry about will actually come true. Kind of like the opposite of “The Secret.”

Can this also be a support group for women who have never read “The Secret?”

How about women who really hate “The Secret?” Secretly, of course.

I recently read somewhere that the act of worrying itself is eventually what we’ll die from.

Ladies, can we get started?  We’ll call it “Women Who Worry Too Much Or Not Enough and Aren’t Sure How They Feel About “The Secret” but Don’t Want to Die.”

And The Men Who Love Them?

No men.  I would need to wear foundation. And my skin really needs to breathe.

How about we focus on Joy instead of worry?  We’ll be The Joy Luck Club.

Kill joy.

When and where will you provide childcare?

That’s just like you!  I knew you would assume that women our age would all be mothers.

Don’t say that.  My name is Anonymous. You don’t even know me.

Well I know you’re catty.

I wish I could be a mother.

I wish I had a mother.

I wish my landlord let me have a cat.

Well, if all 17 of us pitched in, I suppose my eldest daughter could babysit for an hour upstairs. Say $2.00?

If we pitched in $5.00, do you suppose you could hire a housecleaner?

Can you start a support group for women who cannot afford support groups?

Shouldn’t we have said the Serenity Prayer by now?

I think this group could use more tweaking twerking.

Or maybe we could all turn our chairs toward the wall and sit facing away from one another.photo 1-21

After they left, I was exhausted but stayed awake all night tossing and turning.  I toyed with starting another support group for women with insomnia. But when would we meet? We’d be too tired during the day from being up all night. We could meet evenings, but we’d want to turn in early to try and fall asleep. Finding a convenient time was definitely a worry.

To distract myself, I read slips of paper I had all the women leave in the Suggestion Box before they left. It was mainly filled with more names of support groups they were suggesting I start.

  • Women Who Are Mean To Other Women At Support Groups
  • Women With Teenage Daughters
  • Women Without Teenage Daughters
  • Women Wanting To Trade Teenage Daughters
  • Women Who Have Lost Their Mothers (we should open with saying, “I’m sorry for your loss”)
  • Women Who Have Lost Their Mothers to Mahjong, Rummy Cube, and Other Games Seniors Get Obsessed With Today That are Considered Hip.
  • Women Who Hate Their Hips.
  • Women Who Have Lost Their Keys, Cell Phones or Glasses (should probably still open with saying, “I’m sorry for your loss.”)
  • Women Who Are Authentic
  • Women Who Hate Women Who Always Say the word, “Authentic”
  • Women Who Start a Support Group Just so they Can Have Something New to Blog About (I knew I recognized one of my WordPress followers sitting away from the group on my purple couch!)
  • Husbands Who Have Wives Who Go to Support Groups To Talk About Them and Are Afraid to Go To Work the Next Day and the Secretaries Who Love Them
  • Children Whose Mothers Cannot Drive Them Anywhere Because They Are Constantly in Support Groups
  • Couples Who Can’t Talk To One Another (We could meditate)
  • Couples Who Can’t Stop Fighting and the Therapists Who Love them.

And there was one question:

Will you ever have anything to eat other than grapes and lemonade?  I have IBS.  It would be refreshing if you could serve other refreshments.

At the next meeting I decided to do more of the talking and be more bold.

Thank you all for coming back.  I wonder if some of you feel as exhausted as I do.  I was thinking of starting a group for insomnia but does anyone have a suggestion when a group like that could meet?

In your dreams.

Cute. So I’ve gone over all the suggestions and I’ve decided there’s one name that will encompass everything . . . Ready?  It’s quite brief.   “Dysfunctional Households”

Women Who Grew Up in a Dysfunctional Household or Women Who Create Their Own Dysfunctional Household??

But I live alone.

Uh, I’m a guy, so this might be a typical male question. But by Dysfunctional Households, do you mean when the dishwasher and the floor sweeper break down.

No, I don’t mean appliances. I mean people.

Well I AM the dish washer and the floor sweeper.

Welcome to our group.

Great.  Just great. Does anyone have foundation in a porcelain beige shade I can borrow?

After they all went home, I knew I would never mention it, but secretly I would change the name to “Women Who Start Support Groups To Feel Important But Instead Feel Put Out.”

And as far as worrying?  I was no longer concerned at all.  I now had plenty of new material for months of blogs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Hate Hugging!

photo 1-20I’m staying indoors today. It’s National Hugging Day!  Are we serious here?  I used to despise St. Patrick’s Day because it was the one holiday that encouraged public touching. From the moment I stepped out of bed, I dressed in the “color du jour” from head to toe so there could be no mistake. Live Female Leprechaun standing before you, folks.  I was never one of those sly minimalists who tried to trick people into pinching me so I could say, “Aha! Betcha didn’t know I have green-trimmed socks!”

This is okay in my book.

This is okay in my book.

photo 5-1

This is still okay.

But National Hug Day has taken things too far. Ask people who know me. I have been against the concept of embracing for a long time. It’s not just in public that I abhor it, and not just with complete strangers.  Although you should see my reaction as I walk down the street in a college town and some sucker student stands on the sidewalk with his sign, “Free Hugs.”  (I used to think this was a fraternity dare, but now I think it’s how they penalize pupils with low GPA’s)

What kind of business model is this? An Accounting Major, obviously.

What kind of business model is this? An Accounting Major, obviously.

But intimate relationship hugging is not for me either. First of all, that “Circle of Personal Space” (that none of us want to have invaded) stays up 24/7 for me.  It doesn’t take little breaks.  There’s never a sign around my torso stating, “Circle out to lunch, back in an hour.” C’mon friends, if you approach me with open arms and observe a sideways ducking maneuver, I haven’t just walked into a spider web, I do NOT want your limbs thrown around me.  A hug is just a strangle that hasn’t completed itself yet. To that end, maybe I’ll wear yellow police tape to match my outfits.

This is okay too. Crazy, but okay.

This is okay too. Crazy, but okay.

The thing I fear most is that some politician will decide if “National Hugging Day” is good, having a “National Cuddle Day” will be even better. Hugging, you can at least hold your breath and count to three and it’s usually over.  Cuddling is absolutely just the PITTS  (Prolonged Intimate Touching Torture System) in my opinion. Really?  Tell me you enjoy falling asleep with your mate’s hot breath on your neck? And those little involuntary twitchings and jerkings, just as you’ve crossed “leg waxing” off from your mental to-do list for tomorrow and are finally slipping into those theta brain waves? And their inhales/exhales. You always gotta try and synchronize yours to theirs and when you finally match up perfectly, they’ll hold their breath and sputter.  No thanks.

On one of the many websites you can google today, to find out more info about this holiday, (though why would you want to?) I found 10 reasons why today is supposedly good for us.  I’ve allowed myself commentary in red font.

Little Miss Menopause’s Input on “Their” Justification on Why National Hugging Day Came Into Existence

1)    Hugs make us feel “happy”! When we hug another person, our bodies release oxytocin, a hormone associated with “happiness,” according to scientific studies.  This is also released during breastfeeding and orgasm, but do we have National Days for that?

2)    Hugs alleviate stress! Just as a good hug increases our oxytocin levels, it decreases our cortisol or “stress” levels. How is stress alleviated when all you can think about is “Can they feel my stomach protruding?  Will their perfume/cologne set off my allergies?  And WHAT is that in his pocket??”

3)    Babies need hugs as much as water and food! According to researchers at Harvard University, hugs help promote normal levels of cortisol necessary for child development.  Agreed.  I vote to change it to “National Hug an Infant Day.”

4)    Hugs make us better students! Students who receive a supportive touch from a teacher are twice as likely to volunteer in class.  And are ten times as likely to have a father who will see the school district in court.  And what exactly will the students volunteer to do?  Go first in dissecting a frog so that they can put their recent hugging trauma in perspective?

5)    Hugs improve our game! Scientists at University of California, Berkley discovered that the more affectionate members of a team are with each other, the more likely they are to win. Please stick to ass slapping.

6)    A hug a day keeps the doctor away! A hug stimulates the thymus gland, which in turn regulates the production of white blood cells that keep us healthy and disease-free.  And apples were removed from the prescribed “One-a-day” list because?  Don’t tell me hugs have fiber now.

7)    A hug stops the bug! Researchers at Carnegie Mellon proved that individuals who were sick and received hugs had less severe symptoms and were able to get better quicker. C’mon. That’s just absurd.  They simply couldn’t find anything else to rhyme with hug. (But I can – – “Give me a smug shrug instead of a hug, ya big lug!”)  Everyone knows there’s no better way to spread germs than bodily contact.

8)    A hugging heart is a healthy heart! Research from University of North Carolina showed that a good hug helps ease blood flow and lower cortisol levels, which in turn help lower our heart rates.  See? Still needing to resort to making up medical facts to defend this day.  If this is indeed true, why don’t surgeons have a couple of hearts snuggle up together in an incubator prior to transplanting one into their patient during “Open Hug Surgery?”

photo 1-19

This is NOT okay.

9)    A hugging couple is a happy couple! Couples that experience their partners’ love through physical affection share higher oxytocin levels.  Again with the oxytocin. Does this Stepford Wife to the left look happy?  Look closely.

10)    Hugs let someone know you care without having to say a word! So does a well-written Hallmark card. According to Dacher Keltner, professor of psychology at University of California, Berkeley, we can identify love from simple human touch – imagine how much love a big (virtual) hug can communicate!

Am I alone in feeling that hugs should be reserved for your enemies so you can know how big to dig the holes in your  backyard?  Who will you let hug you today??

Help Yourself! (Don’t Mind if I do!)

photo 1-18 1st Ex-husband:  I read the back of a self-help book the other day and it was all about you.

Me:  Really?  Was it “The Guide to Reinventing Yourself?”

1st Ex-husband:  Uh, No. It was “Stop Walking on Eggshells:  How to deal with a Borderline.”

Me:  You mean like people who still listen to that 80’s Madonna hit song with the same title?

1st Ex-Husband: Not quite. People who have an Emotional Intensity Disorder, to put it nicely.

Me:  Ugh. You just don’t “get me.” You’ve never “gotten me.”

1st Ex-Husband: Why do you always make quotation marks with your fingers when you say that?

Naturally I went out to the closest bookstore and bought a new copy.  The first symptom listed was:

  • Frequently saying to others, “You just don’t get me.”

Followed by:

  • All or Nothing thinking (well, CAN you be halfway pregnant?)
  • Anxiety & Depression
  • Impulsivity (I like to call it spontaneity)
  • Marked sensitivity to rejection (that covered every writer in America)
  • Control Issues (that covered every female in America)
  • An unwillingness to take responsibility and a tendency to blame others. (not me!)
  • Unstable Interpersonal Relationships (what do they expect when nobody “gets” you?)

As I finished up the last chapter, nodding and reluctantly agreeing, I received a phone call.

2nd Ex-Husband: Hey, just came across a book today that reminded me of you — The Bi-Polar and Her Environment.”

Me:  I’m guessing it’s not about a big white bear who prefers arctic weather, but she’s bi so she likes the sunshine too?

2nd Ex-Husband:  Nope. And did you just make air quotation marks with your fingers?  Hello? Are you there?

The neighborhood bookstore owner was politely holding the door wide open for me when I arrived, greeting me with the hardcover in his outstretched hand.  I read the entire 300 pages right then and there and sheesh — this book could not have been any more about me. Except when it wasn’t. Yes, I had mood swings and extreme behaviors but “a decreased need for sleep?” Not according to my snooze button. When I returned home, my phone was ringing determinedly.

Me:  Hello Mom.

My Mother:  My book club met tonight and . . .

Me:  Title and Author please?

My Mother:  “Should You Avoid the Avoidant Personality in Your Life?”  by Hadley Nuff.

If I drove fast enough, I could just about make it back to the bookstore before they closed.

The bookstore manager was locking up as I arrived, but had the decency to have the appropriate pages highlighted and bookmarked as he read the symptoms aloud to me. “People with Avoidant Personality Disorder experience long-standing feelings of inadequacy and are extremely sensitive to what others think about them. These feelings of inadequacy leads the person to be extremely inhibited and socially inept. They usually turn to blogging as a last resort.”

Me:  You made that last part up!

He winked at me as I grabbed the book and slipped him a twenty.

When I backed out of the lot, a parking attendant approached my car and generously handed me a stack of paperbacks. “I saw these and couldn’t help but think of you.” I glanced at the titles:

  • Generalized Anxiety Disorder
  • Adaptation Syndrome Disorder
  • Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
  • Histrionic Personality Disorder
  • Intermittent Explosive Disorder
  • Reactive Attachment Disorder
  • Chronic Depressive Disorder

photo 3-9By morning, blurry eyed from the small print, I had already googled three psychiatrist’s names.  But which one would be lucky enough to hit the Jackpot and treat me?

If I couldn’t make up my mind, it probably meant I also had “Decision Disorder.” All three doctors would surely have a field day! It was obvious I had over 10 syndromes. But how had I kept all of these symptoms concealed from myself all these years, I wondered?  That was easy.  I also had “Defiance Denial Disorder.”

I was extremely nervous when I realized the doctor (whose name I chose from a hat) strongly resembled Jack Nicholson from “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.” That must be a symptom of  “Concoct a Celebrity” disorder, I reminded myself in a calm, affirming manner. “Nothing they can’t prescribe a book for,” I reassured myself. “Relax.”

Me:  I don’t understand how I can fit the descriptions of everything.  Am I just very versatile?

Dr. McMurphy:  Yes and No. You see, Little Miss Menopause… And by the way, changing your name to one of your maladies is very clever indeed.

Me: Thank you.

Dr. McMurphy:  You see, many people (especially ex-husbands who develop a sudden interest in literacy) don’t realize how many of these diagnostic terms share a huge overlap of characteristics with one another.

Me:  So the authors of the books are all friends who studied about Me in medical school?

Dr. McMurphy:  It’s perfectly normal to think it’s always all about you, Miss Menopause. We call that Grandiosity and Narciss….

Me:  Never mind!

Dr. McMurphy:  The point is, all of these disorders fall under one larger umbrella.

Me:  So I have Rainy Day Syndrome as well?

Dr. McMurphy:  It does appear that a dark cloud follows you around, yes. But we have another name for you. It’s not any of these fancy sounding syndromes or disorders.

Me: I was afraid of that. Does it start with a C?

Dr. McMurphy:  Why yes.

Me:  Oh no!  And is the second letter an R?

Dr. McMurphy:  As a matter of fact.

Me:  But Dr…  I thought professionals didn’t use that word these days.

Dr. McMurphy:  If it’s too much for you, I’ll write it down on my prescription pad and you can look at it later. But there is hope.

As I walked downstairs to the pharmacy, I summoned up all my courage.  I could handle being called the “CR” Word. And so what if it happened to rhyme with Lazy.  I’d been called worse things.  I took a quick peek —

photo-62 This was more depressing than I thought.  I don’t think they’ll ever come up with a cure. I better call both my Ex-husbands and warn them it could get handed down to our kids!

photo 5-2

The Past Survives from my Vast Lives!

photo-61“Aren’t you curious about some of the unusual things you do?” asked my wacky friend Tiffany last week. (This is the same friend who convinced me to see the Psychic Channeler!)

“Curious?  No.  Entertained?  Yes!”  I hoped that would shut her up because I just knew where this was going.

“Come with me to a therapist who does Past Life Regression.”

“So I can find out the reason I’m afraid of spiders is because I used to be a fly?  No thank you.”

“Please?  She’s offering a great ‘Two for One’ special!”

“Two past lives for one current death?”

“Very funny – – No, she’ll see the both of us for one price.”photo 1-17

I won’t tell you whether or not I went with Tiffany, but here are some connections that seem more than a tad coincidental….

Little Miss Menopause’s Phobias, Quirks & Obsessions Finally Explained!

  •  I don’t like people’s pity and constantly try to cheer others up —  I used to be Eva Peron and sang, “Don’t Cry For Me, Argentina” on a daily basis.
  • I dislike playing tag in a swimming pool and get headaches from all the yelling. — I was the girlfriend of Marco Polo.
  • I like to post interesting quotes on my Facebook page and I save all my fortune cookie slips — In 530 BC, I used to be a Scribe for Confucius. I was the one who wrote “Confucius say:” on everything and then added my own interesting advice, like, “If your mother is cold, then wear a sweater for goodness sake!”
  • My favorite meal has always been an Orange Julius with a Caesar Salad.  Wait for it…. yes that’s correct, I WAS Cleopatra.  And Elizabeth Taylor really did get me down pat.
  •  I constantly tell my children to speak up because I cannot hear them. — I was Charlie Chaplin’s mother.
  • When we’re out of cereal, milk, or eggs for breakfast and my kids are starving, (eying the Betty Crocker boxes) I reluctantly will “let them eat cake.” —  I was Marie Antoinette.
  • When lecturing my daughters, instead of saying, “Go to your room this minute, Young Ladies!” I say, “Now listen here, Little Women!”  I was Louisa May Alcott.
  • I don’t use profanity or swear.  My biggest cuss word is saying, “Oh shoot.  Shoot, Shoot, Shoot!”  –  I was Annie Oakley.
  • I made sure to buy all four of my sons their first pair of suede dress shoes, in a lovely shade of blue.  — I was Elvis Presley’s Mom.

You may have guessed by now that I did in fact explore my past lives.  The most interesting thing was each time I was hypnotized and awakened, the first thing I was asked was to look down at my feet and describe what I was wearing. This told a lot about the time and place. Sandals?  An Egyptian slave.  Pointed high heeled boots?  A Victorian Maid.  The last life I was regressed to, I reported wearing these…

Were these even my size?

Were these even my size?

 

Could it be??  Nah.  Although I do have an aversion to hot-air balloons and green make-up.

Now if you want to know who you were in a past life, you don’t have to hang out with my friend Tiffany, you can just click right HERE and tell me in the comment section.

 

 

All That Glitters is Not Gold!

photo-56People despise me. Yesterday I went to my P.O. Box and opened  144 envelopes (addressed to “Little Miss Menopause”) and gasped to find them graced with gobs of glamorous, glinting Glitter. If this was heaven, it sure glistened. In fact, there were enough sparkles for me to make the centerpieces (pictured below) for a big bash I recently threw.  Now if only the rest of the hateful population (the ones I’ve rubbed the wrong way) would send me some sequins, some swatches of velvet and a few glue sticks, I’ll be able to make some “thank you for coming” party favors as well.  photo 2-4With enemies like this, who needs friends?

If you’re feeling a bit lost right about now–you haven’t paid enough attention to the Big News lately.  On Wednesday, a man started a company where (for $9.99) he will Ship Glitter (I made him the custom logo above!) to your Worst Enemies and . . . well you can just read about it here.  But please return to this post and see what I’m planning to send people in the mail.

Yes, messy craft supplies may put some of us in our place, but as a very clever blogger recently reminded me…

“The Pen is Mightier Than the Sword”

photo-58

Therefore here are the letters I plan to write and send:

To My Publisher

“Thank you for submitting your recent rejection letter regarding my novel.  However, I am returning it to you for revisions. It’s just not what I’m looking for at this time. It contains cliches, lacks originality, and is entirely unsuitable for framing.  Therefore I reject your rejection letter. Best of luck in your future writing endeavors. ”

To My Creepy, Inappropriate Male Gynecologist:

“In light of your conduct during my recent Pap Smear Leer, I’ve spoken with your wife so she can schedule your upcoming “Lap Spear.”  You are long overdue.”

To My Female Tenant:

“You are not only Behind on Your Rent but it seems you Rent Your Behind!  Check today’s Craig’s list. ‘Your’ ad is prominently displayed.  Butt don’t be too bummed out about that – – I’m sending you some  ‘Good Luck Glitter’ to sprinkle on that newly backed venture of yours. You’ll be bedazzled  bedASSled.

To My Child’s 4th Grade Teacher:

“Do you remember the parent conference we had long ago, during which you stated my son would never amount to anything because a) getting him to do assignments was like pulling teeth and b) he was a Smart Mouth?  Well, to show we have no hurt feelings fillings, please visit him at his new dental practice. You know the drill.”

To The Beautician who suggested I dye my hair:

“Check the back of your car.  You have a new bumper sticker.  “Gray is the new Brunette!”  You’re welcome!”

To The Department of Motor Vehicles:

“It’s very flattering you read my blog, but I politely decline the license plate you “randomly” issued me… ‘PMS 247.’  Also because I no longer do dishes, you might appreciate my new license on my Mazda now. photo 1-7

To WordPress Bloggers Who Hate Me For Not Visiting Your Blog Lately:

I apologize.  But let’s trade Glitter for Twitter!  Follow me @MissMenopause

and I will follow you.  To the glitter bitter end.

 

Are you a book or movie lover?  See what I did to your favorite classic on The Huffington Post today. Click HERE.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lessons I Learned From Playing the Board Game “CLUE!”

photo 2 (1)I spent many a childhood evening around the kitchen table eschewing Monopoly because my brother stole from the bank and pretended to flatten my Hat token with his Iron one.  That’s when Clue became my game of choice. And oh — the pertinent things it taught me!

SCARLET – – I learned that Miss Scarlet is either a southern Belle with a petulant personality (and an 18 inch waist!) who makes sure that men frankly DO give a damn or she’s a smoldering femme fatale character with a long cigarette holder who would be pronounced guilty if “looks could kill.” I realized that by choosing Miss Scarlet, I would ALWAYS be entitled to go first in the game. After all, it was written in the rules, which I would eagerly drag out to prove to anyone who mistakenly thought the highest roll on the dice determined order. But I would have picked Miss Scarlet anyhow, even if she was destined to go last (although I’m quite sure all men wanted to be behind her!) because aside from Veronica (in the Archies) I had very few raven-haired role models. From my eleven year-old perspective, she was both smart and sexy plus from her starting position, she could quickly sneak into “The Lounge” where everyone knew was the prime place to knock someone off.  Yes, I got into many a rowdy tussle with my female cousins who claimed Miss Scarlet before we even removed the lid to the box. Disclaimer: I never used a lead pipe on any of them. photo-436

WEAPONS — Having grown up with a father whose idea of fixing the plumbing was letting his fingers do the walking in the Yellow Pages, I learned from Clue that a Wrench was a murder weapon, not a tool. The first time my handy boyfriend came over, noticed my leaky sink and pulled a wrench from his car — I was already dialing 911 to report domestic abuse.

PALACE — I learned that when I grew up, I wanted an opulent house (like the Clue board) with its own  Billiard Room, Library and Conservatory. And since when is a “Hall” a special room in and of itself? In our home, a narrow hallway led to a dingy bathroom – sadly the hall was the only way we got from the kitchen to the washer/drier. There were no “secret passageways.” Deprivation.

COERCION — I learned that you can pressure your opponents into giving you information you need by moving your token into the Kitchen (when you already hold a card for the kitchen) and then asking to see either Mr. Green (when you already hold a card for him as well) and the Knife. Nowadays, I walk into our kitchen and upon seeing a knife (with some crumbs) I’m able to force a character named Mr. Son (who wears a green shirt) to admit guilt in eating the last piece of cheesecake.

ENTERTAINMENT — I learned that when you run out of things to write about, you can use board games to create a blog that breaks you into The Huffington Post like I did here. Or you can just create a movie like they did in 1985 when they turned Clue into a feature length film starring Leslie Ann Warren as my favorite, Miss Scarlet.  However, this was no “Whodunnit” plot but instead it was a “Howdunnit?”  How DID they keep her from falling out of that dress??photo 1 (3)

WINNING — I learned that whenever I beat my family at Clue, my “prize” was getting to put the game away.  Interestingly, when I lost — my penalty was also . . . yep, you guessed it!  Let’s just say I wasn’t the sharpest weapon in the arsenal.

FLIRTING — When I played Clue with a boy I had a crush on, I learned to wear a red dress, flutter my Miss Scarlet eyelashes at his Colonel Mustard’s hot-dog, and try to land in the Ballroom a lot to see if he would ever get the hint and ask me to a school dance. I then learned this never worked. Nowadays, I just beat the pants off men I like in Scrabble, while spelling out their favorite seven letter word, “Bedroom.”

Thank you Parker Brothers for all the valuable life lessons!