Tag Archives: Little Miss Menopause

Meet Your New Slangologist!

photo-41Why does the X & Y generation get to have all the new, fun slanguage?  They get to say “Totes” and “Probs” and “Adorbs.” But how original is that? Because of their lazy tongues, they shorten or abbreviate a word and then it hits it big time and catches on with the masses.  I can do better than that.  Here, I present some new Words For US and OUR time.  We know who we are!  Please help “spread the word!”

Little Miss Menopause’s Shabang Slang for The Older Gang!

Bodyostasis – – n.  Those rare, fleeting moments when nothing hurts or feels out of whack.

Mattressable – – adj.  A term used for a woman who is easy to sleep with. Not that kind of sleep. Actual shut-eye.  “Cynthia didn’t throw the covers off and on according to her body temperature fluctuation, nor admonish him for breathing, blinking, snoring and she even let him cuddle with her once, therefore Steve deemed her highly Mattressable.”

Menopausability – – n.  You skipped your period! Could a 50 year old be pregnant?  It’s a distinct “menopauseability” since you occasionally still ovulate, but more than likely you’re just starting the change of life.  Relax!  You’ll soon be pushing a walker, not a stroller.

Menobump – – n. Related to above.  Friends will look at your midsection and wonder, “Is she or isn’t she?”  But woe to the man who actually ventures forward and says, “Congratulations!”

Babyboomerbitterbutterbetter — adj.  A feeling of betrayal during all those years you switched to margarine and thought you were eating healthier, only to find out it was actually harming you. Damn the partially hydrogenated process.

Eggoangst — n. Similar sensation to above.  When you hear that eggs have been given a bad rap for years, you mourn the missed omelette opportunities in your 20-30’s.

Cancermonopoly — n. The final conclusion that it doesn’t matter what you eat, there will always be an article saying it’s bad for you. People who fit in this category are fond of saying, “You only live once and I’d rather die young and happy.”

Afeeliate — v. The strong desire to affiliate with other women who feel the same symptoms of aging that you do.  Closely tied to illfeeliate  “Linda wants to illfeeliate herself with other women who feel like shit because misery loves company.”

Repeat-o-mind — n. A brain that fools you into thinking you can still do something just like you used to.  “Rebecca suffered a repeat-o-mind which caused her to go horseback riding with her young adult children.” Ps. Rebecca’s uterus will never forgive her.

Wondertainment — n. When a title of a movie sounds so familiar that you wonder if you’ve seen it before??  “45 minutes into the movie, Trudy realized Titanic was wondertainment.”  Not to be confused with . . .

Onertainment!— n.  An enviable state for people who want to simplify life.  The ability to own just one book, one DVD or CD because each time you hear, read, or watch it, it’s like the first time, brand new and enthralling!

Candleaccountability – – adj.  The crucial earlier moment in the kitchen, when the Cakewalker (one who walks the sheet cake into a crowd while leading off the “Happy Birthday” song) decided that each single candle can represent an entire decade.

This cake simply has no Acandleability!

This cake simply has no Acandleability!

Flipoverbreath — v.  When you insist your husband turn over and face away from you in bed because his exhalations are hotter than a dragon’s.  Calling him “Lava breath” will never earn you the title of “Mattressable” either.

Roomrecall — n.  That magical moment when you remember why you walked into the den in the first place.

Haditallalong — adj.   The realization you get after you ask someone if they’ve seen your glasses and you’re already wearing them or your cell phone which you’re currently talking on.

Namegameblameshame — n.  A syndrome during which you call your adult child by all their sibling’s names first, and even a few names you almost gave them when you were pregnant. Their actual name does come to mind however, by the time they humiliate you by saying, “Hi! I’m Mitchell, your firstborn.  Nice to meet you.”

Agexaggerate — v. Purposely telling someone you’re ten years older than you actually are so you can hear back, “Wow, you look great for 64!”

Doctorson — n.  A physician so young, you could be his mother.

DaughterDr — n.  Girl version of above.

Battersneaker – – n.  One who engages in the act of promising a child they can lick the bowl, but then pretends they forgot and accidentally washed it.

ItemOrigination — n.  Going into a grocery store and buying everything except what you came for in the first place.

Actnesia – – n.  The loss of a skill you were particularly proud of in which you could watch a movie and identify all co-stars by first and last name, cite who they are related to, and give at least two other examples of films your partner has seen them in before.  “Bill keeps very quiet on movie date nights since his recent bout with Actnesia.”

Glutendisputin — prop n.  One who maintains the entire gluten-free industry was thought up by a guy who hated that his mother put whole wheat sandwiches in his lunchbox when other kids got Wonder loaf bread.

Inventionintention n. — Knowing you thought of a clever new product first but were too lazy to do anything about it.  Claims can date back to electricity.

Holipressure — v.  The influence other neighbors can exert on someone who is too old or fatigued to put up X-mas lights or other exterior decorations.  Closely connected to a Reluctoweener — someone who really doesn’t want to dress up for a Halloween party so they just carry a trivial prop. i.e. “Dave asserted he was wearing a Plumber costume because he carried a toilet plunger.”  (In reality though, Dave just had a fear of clogging public toilets.)

Trendependafriend — prop. n. — someone you’ve known for years who makes it her business to ensure you stay up-to-date with the latest fads.  She’s the one who shamed you onto Instagram.  Or she will forward you this list!

Slangshorterm — v.  The tendency to forget all these new and clever slang words the moment you read the next post, thereby reducing the chance they will ever catch on to an older generation who desperately needs new terminology to describe that which there are simply no words for!

If you like this kind of murky, quirky, smirky humor, please check me out (most grateful if you would leave me a comment there!) on Huffington Post today! 

When Did I Ever Tell Disney Studios to “Be My Guest??” (I’m suing Walt!)

photo-422Wait till you see what’s been stolen from me to make scores of Disney hit movies!  Have you heard about author Isabella Tanikumi, who is taking Disney Studios to court for allegedly ripping off her books, which were based on her real life story, to make the movie Frozen?  If she doesn’t ‘let it go,’ she stands to make a lot of money.  But I’m sure the judge will agree that I am the larger injured party here. After my lawsuit(s) it’s only a matter of time before I’m singing “When You Wish Upon a Star,” bathing in my own millions!

SLEEPING BEAUTY:  It’s shocking how much Disney plagiarized my childhood events for this animated feature — Where do I even start?   At the beginning, of course.  First of all, just like Maleficent, I was shunned from my own Baby Christening. (Religious differences were cited.) Along those same lines, identical to Aurora, I was also born Royalty (according to my father) — a Jewish American Princess.  Then ironically, at age 16, in the middle of sewing my own gym bag in Home Economics class, (we should still make this mandatory, btw) I was also poked by a needle.  Now mind you, there are no witnesses. I couldn’t very well shout out, “Who just saw me Prick myself?” because I would have been sent to the principal for profane language.  But from that day forward, my mother could never awaken me to get to school on time.

CINDERELLA:  There can be no doubt of copycatting here.   But how Walt managed to spy on me in shoe stores, I’ll never know! It was my sheer amount of shoving, jamming and forcing my pregnant, swollen feet inside that last pair of silver stilettos in a Size 6 narrow, (during Nordstrom’s half-yearly sale) that was obviously duplicated for his stepsister’s dramatic scenes.  The fact that I was only raised with a brother or that I’m deathly phobic of mice need never come up in the lawsuit.  And perhaps I haven’t cleaned out our fireplace lately, but I can attest to scrubbing many a bathroom fixture. Nicknaming me “SToilet” instead of Stephanie would not be too far-fetched.

WRECK-IT RALPH:  Here I can only go after Disney for taking the title of this recent film directly from tapping my phone.  Ralph is the name of my Allstate auto insurance rep.  Three times during the same year this movie was made, I had to call and report a claim with my Mazda, lowering my voice to a shameful whisper the third time when I confessed, “I Wrecked it, Ralph.”

FINDING NEMO:  I might be persuaded to drop these allegations since it’s a bit of a leap.  However I want it on record that I’ve always lost my notes (for my blogs) and other scraps of papers I scrawled groceries on to buy at the market.  Therefore, I thought up a clever name for a contraption I invented that locates your “To Do” list around the house with an annoying buzzing sound. “Finding Memo!”

PARENT TRAP:  Alright, here my case is completely airtight.  I have twin boys and my one scaredy cat son once bribed his courageous lookalike brother to go to the pediatrician to get an extra flu shot for him.  When his Dad and I discovered the switcheroo, we didn’t reconcile our marriage, but we did have an hour long phone conversation where we both (miraculously!) agreed that the boys should lose dessert for a week and get different haircuts.

TANGLED:  Just look at this picture of my hair.

The original TANGLED, 80's style.

The original TANGLED, 80’s style.

Can there be any argument what the movie is based on??  Plus when I tell a white lie, my mother always recites, “Oh what a Tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.”  Thanks Ma, I’ll split the settlement with you on this one.

FREAKY FRIDAY:  Disney must have a thing with the “Swapping People” bit (see Parent Trap above) but I definitely explored this theme first.  Witness the following multiple dialogues between me and my daughter.

Daughter: You can’t keep saying, “Cuz I said so!”

Me: Yes, I can.  And when you’re the mother, you can say it too.

or

Daughter: All the other mothers are letting their daughters go to the dance.

Me:  I’m not all the other mothers.

Daughter:  Well I wish you were!

or

Daughter:  It’s so unfair!  You have no clue what life as a teenager is like nowadays. It’s not like when you were in school and your biggest stress was pricking your finger with a needle in Home Ec class!

Me:  Try shoe shopping with big feet, scrubbing toilets, taking your twin brothers to the pediatrician for vaccinations, talking with car insurance companies, never being able to find my memos for my blogs, having a hairdo so tangled that it resembles a rat’s nest, and dealing with a smart-mouthed teen like you, Young Lady!

“Ya got that, Walt?  Freaky Friday was born when my sassy daughter was!”

And tonight if I see any Disney producers or writers loitering around my dinner table, it’s . . .

“OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!”

photo-40

I’ll see you in Court, Mickey!

Meanwhile, please see my latest laughter featured on Huffington Post about men I would NEVER date.

 

 

 

Betcha Can’t Read Just One! (Mmm, Mmm Good!)

Brand Allegiance!

Brand Allegiance!

I think I missed my calling to be in the Marketing field because I’m always thinking up slogans and jingles.  I also feel sorry for Generic store brands because they don’t have any colorful packaging or catchy tag lines.  They’re like the Ugly Ducklings of the supermarket shelves. But I can help these underdog products shine by giving them an edge with a few well placed words.  For instance, Let’s take a plain “No Name” brownie mix. Just slap a label on the package that says . . .

“Now with extra Batter!”  Your batch will bake up thicker . . .  even though you’re a licker!”

Okay so maybe not so much that particular example, (you knew I meant the spoon, right?) but give me a break – – I’ve not had any formal training in this field.

Lemme try another.  How about for a Cab Company.

“Our Drivers Are Always Nearby. We Don’t Condone Taxi Evasion!”

Yep, pure gold.  I think I’m ready to branch out into the actual world now with a little job portfolio:

Little Miss Menopause’s Advertising Promos For Real Life Situations

 

DOG TAG

“If you’re reading this, it means I’m lost.

Maybe there’s a street I shouldn’t have crossed.

But the worst is over ‘cuz now I’ve been found. . .

And you’ve saved me from ending up in the Pound.

So pick up the phone and give my owner a holler

And tell them you read about it here on my collar!”

Would a jingle fit on here?

Would a jingle fit on here?

 

What is this, some G Rated job?  I think I can have some sexier promotional campaigns than that!

 

MALE’S TEE-SHIRT IN BAR

Hey ladies, look my way so I’ll flash you a wink,

I can do so much more than buy you a drink.

I can talk to you and complement and flatter,

But lemme take you home and prove size really does matter!guy tee shirt

GYNECOLOGIST’S SPECULUM

I ‘m cold & metal but actually quite gentle,

Any pain you feel is purely accidental.

If I touch you “down there,” don’t give me a slap,

Just checking that you haven’t been given the Clap.

You might say I’m important and quite ‘instrumental,’

Your doctor owns me outright, I’m not just a rental.

I’ll never be replaced with a cellphone or an App…

Rest assured, I’m the only way to get your Yearly Pap!

I could not bring myself to show an actual speculum.

I could not bring myself to show an actual speculum.

 

So much for sexy.  I think I better go tame again.

 

OUR COUNTRY’S NEW LEADER

I’ll take an oath the day that I become President,

Swear to protect and serve and never be negligent.

You won’t find me surrounded by trauma or drama

Like the guy in the White House now, Barack Obama.

So pick me when you vote in our upcoming election.

P.S.  I could also promise to outlaw Ebola infection!

 

And finally a little advertising buzz to honor the reason we’re all here.

 

 

A WORDPRESS BLOG

Do you have some feelings you wanna express?

Or a bunch of friends you wanna impress?

Pick a theme and make your personal gravatar

Reach for the brass ring, or just grab a star.

You pick your domain name – – we’ll be your Free Host

Say what you wanna say and that’ll be your first post.

But if you ever run dry, don’t write these kinds of silly advertising campaigns

Do that to your followers and watch how quickly he or she complains!

And instead of ever becoming Freshly Pressed . . .

We’ll make sure you get Especially Suppressed!

billboard

That’s right, don’t worry . . I’m not giving up my day job any time soon.

Little Miss Menopause:  Don’t leave home without her.  Please Leave Her At Home!

Would love for you to visit my latest humor on the Huffington Post Comedy Section today.

Breaking Up With Your Accountant Doesn’t Have to be so Taxing!

photo-32Good help is hard to find.  But that doesn’t mean we must stay monogamous.  Here are some of the entries from a journal I kept to inadequate individuals I paid good money to.

THE ACCOUNTANT:   I mean c’mon, once in a while I’d like to see how someone else crunches my numbers.  Wesley my CPA,  is the only one who has ever seen the inside of my tax shelter and in 2014 when I reported my earnings, he winked and promised,

“Next year we’ll definitely ‘income’ simultaneously!”

Mmmmmm.  Still it’s not like we’re married or even engaged.  And I wouldn’t be cheating on my taxes either.  Just him.

THE HOUSEKEEPER:  It was awkward coming clean with Winifred (Wynn for short) but she’d been sponging off me too long.  I planned to wipe away her mirror streaking mediocrity in one fell swoop.  When she stated, “I don’t do laundry.”  I would simply retort, “I don’t do Wynndows!”  I wasn’t prepared for what happened next.  Wanting a clean slate,  I gave her $100 “good-luck” money — as she departed, I noticed Wynn tossed our dog $20.  “It’s only fair I wish my partner (and his tongue) good-luck as well,” she said.  “Every night, he’d wash the dishes while I’d dry.”  Ugh.  I should have just left her a “Dear John” letter on top of the toilet.

THE GARDENER:  Even though I love it when he talks dirt to me, I began to plant the idea in his head that I would soon be asking for my garage door-opener back. I didn’t want to soil his reputation because I knew if there was any mud-slinging, I would be the one losing ground. So this morning as I was pining away, staring at my neighbor’s lush lawn, I casually remarked that it was mowed using the newest “cutting hedge technology.”  He took offense and reminded me that “the grass is always greener.”  I felt great re-leaf when he didn’t try to get at the root of our problem and instead simply withered away — out of my life (and yard) forever.  I will miss his anti-coil hose with the pistol nozzle.

THE DOG-GROOMER:   Trickier because I needed to convince her my two-year-old Shih-Tzu (Breed Name itself causes embarrassment because it sounds like sneezing and swearing in Japanese!)  needed a change of pace.

Me:  Please don’t be blue.  It’s not You.  It’s my Shih-Tzu.

Groomer: (french accent)  What makes your dog  say “Adieu!” Why did things go askew and now it’s me he wants to eschew?

Me:  First of all, Gesundheit and Bless you!  Maybe he just wants something new?  Or maybe there’s such a hullabaloo, your shop is like a zoo?  Or maybe he doesn’t like your view?  Or perhaps for a male, you make him look too Fru-Fru?

Groomer:  Yeah?  Well Screw You!  AND your little dog the Shih Tzu, too!

I think she was auditioning for the witch from Oz.

THE HANDYMAN:   Phil was difficult to give the Ax. Two months ago, I Hammered home the idea there would be no more Screwing around in my household. I made a gut-Wrenching plea never to see Phillip’s Head around these parts again.  Yesterday I opened my door to see him on a ladder changing the porch light bulb, proudly brandishing his Tool.  “What part of ‘Fired!” don’t you understand?” I shouted.  He proceeded to fix my oven.  Feeling compassionate, I asked if he’d consider building me a maple desk.  “Oh boy, I wood.  I wood!”  He appeared quite Level-headed, so off we went to the lumber store and I think we’ve Repaired our relationship, too.

THE CHIROPRACTOR:  I didn’t want him to give me an attitude adjustment so I decided to just bend over back-wards and play it straight. Besides I’ve been in pain and didn’t want to cut off my nose to spine spite my face.  But last night I slipped up at the disk-otheque  and accidentally danced with a new chiropractor who promised he’d always be at my back and call.

THE MANICURIST:  She used reverse psychology on me.  Said I nibbled on my cuticles too nervously and she’d had enough! What biting sarcasm!  Then she claimed my nails were such a mess, she’d rather file her tax return.  – –  maybe I should fix her up with my Accountant!  (See #1 above.)  After calling me “Dishpan Hands” I couldn’t take her insults any longer so I mentioned hating the perfume she wore.  “You’re soaking in it,” she said slyly.  You gotta Hand it to that Madge!

 

Football & Fashion? — Black-Tie Touchdowns ?!

photo 1-13

“

 

 

 

Sack the Quarterback!!”

             or

“Sax Fifth Avenue!!!

 

“It’s the Cotton Bowl!”

             or

“It’s 100% Cotton!”

 

Can a relationship exist where both parties feel equally passionate about football AND fashion? Would it bring them closer??   I’m dying to find out!  With my two ex-husbands, I was constantly left alone on the sidelines during sports season, not to mention wandering solo through shopping malls because they could care less what I wore.

But I’m determined to ‘weave’ together football and fashion ‘seamlessly’ with the great new man in my life.

“You’d be amazed how much the two subjects have in common,” I gushed enthusiastically to my guy last night, as his eyes riveted to the screen during Monday Night Football. I sat conspicuously nearby, turning the pages of a recent fashion spread in Vogue.

“Oh no! Look how she  FUMBLED  with her purse, searching for lipstick!” I shouted, pointing to a statuesque blonde on page 28. “Betcha never saw color-BLOCKING  like that before! I wonder how much  YARDAGE  of silk that took?”

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, yawned, then promptly focused his attention back to the set.

 One more time, giving it that old college try. . .

ME:  Well, whadya know! Vera Wang is finally gonna  TACKLE  the issue of  HIKING  up hemlines during the  KICKOFF  of her new fall line.

HIM:  Shhhh, Stephanie – – I can’t even hear the announcer.”

 A new tact was definitely required. . .

ME: (cozying next to him and purring) Well hello there! Did you ever stop to wonder if their team jerseys are made of 100% pure Jersey Knit? Or do they sneak a little Lycra in there?

Six men smashed their bodies together and I winced.

HIM: (mindlessly munching Doritos)  Uh huh.

ME:  What daring trendsetters those brutes are – – bringing back the 80’s shoulder pads like that! I think the chinstrap could be a bit much though. A simple helmet would streamline their look, while still accessorizing those head concussions perfectly. And whoever does their make-up! Haven’t they heard of waterproof mascara? It’d prevent those under-eye black marks.

The Asymmetrical thing? There always has to be some avant-garde "Football Fashionista."

The Asymmetrical thing? There always has to be one avant-garde “Football Fashionista.”

Runny Mascara or a Turn-On for men?

Runny Mascara or a Turn-On for men?

 

HIM:  (looks at watch)  Isn’t there some fashion show luncheon thing at Nordstrom, starting right about now?”

ME: (coyly)  Why? Would you accompany me to it, Coach?

HIM:  Coach?? As in your Coach brand purse?? Look Steph, I know what you’re trying to . . .

ME:  Shhhh, I can’t even hear that official man in the black and white stripes, blowing his sterling silver whistle necklace. Didn’t anyone tell him pinstripes are so yesterday? And white pants after Labor Day! Seriously? That’s a makeover just waiting to happen.

I made lots of loud tsk-tsk sounds.

 

Just then a Levi Jeans commercial flashed on — my hopes immediately renewed. But to my surprise I didn’t have to utter one word to get him engrossed.

She's got the Runway Pose down pat.

She’s got the “Astroturf Runway” Pose down pat !

 

“Hey, I’d sure like to  HAND-OFF  to that  TIGHT-END!”  He nodded approvingly at the backside of a gorgeous model, clad in size 2 slim fit jeans. We’d  HUDDLE  together and talk about our next big  PLAY  – – then I’d make a smooth as satin (or should that be 100% silk?) PASS at her.  Mmm, those little stitched back-pockets would put me into  OVERTIME  for sure.”

 

“Uh Listen, I’ve been thinking.” I stammered, abruptly changing the channel. “Separate interests are actually super healthy for couples. It gives them a sense of independence and brings variety to their relationship. A nice balance, if you will. No sense in both people liking the same thing.”

 

“I thought you might see it that way,” he said with a knowing smirk. “So next time you’ll be more careful what you wish for?” Sheesh, this guy really gets into teaching someone a valuable lesson, doesn’t he?

Football + Fashion will always lead to this. "Fornography!" "Pornball?"

Football + Fashion will always lead to this.
“Fornography!”
or   “Pornball?”

 

Before I responded, I leaned over to grab my Kate Spade purse, which I then launched (with a perfect spiral!) across the living room, where it landed in the center of the coffee table.

 

“Uh, whaddya chuck your handbag for?” he asked incredulously.

 

“Just demonstrating I can throw a winning  “CLUTCHDOWN”  pass better than any San Diego Charger quarterback around,” I smiled smugly.

 

“Stick to writing humor blogs, Stephanie. I’ll be your biggest cheerleader!”

Then he slapped me hard on the behind as I complimented his Christian Dior-DiScore shirt, his Calvin (K)Line-backer pants, and his Bill Blass n’ Pass shoes.

And that was the end of Football versus Fashion week.  Tied Score.  We’ll see who goes to the Play-Offs.

Nope! This is just WRONG.

Nope! This is just WRONG.

 

Any comments are more than welcome!  Don’t know what to say?  Answer this – – have you ever taken up an interest/hobby just to please your significant other??

“We Interrupt This Sentence…”

photo 1-10Today  I  am excited.  I just want to share with someone.  Anyone.  But, maybe not.  Listen . . .

 

ME:  Guess what?  I’m in a Huff . . .

MY MOTHER:  Well dear, why should today be any different?  You’re always in a foul mood about something.  Go do some Yoga.

photo 2-11

ME:  Hi Honey.  Wanna hear my story about Huff. . . ?

SON:  No, Mommy.  I’m sick of the 3 Little Pigs and the big bad wolf who Huffed & Puffed and blew the house down.  I wanna hear Peter Pan.

A good advertisement for breath mints?

A good advertisement for breath mints?

 

ME:  Hi Grandma, I have something to announce – – today I’m in the Huff. . .

GRANDMOTHER:  Tsk, you young people today.  And your silly Nudist fads.  Well, have fun.

ME:  What???  No, Grandma,  I didn’t say “I’m in the Buff.”    Gram?  Grammy?  Hello?

 

 

photo 4

 

ME:  Hey, I wrote a humor post and you’ll never believe it, but Huff. . .

WRITER FRIEND:  No kidding!  We’re on the same page.  My poem today is about the same subject.  Listen.

Things are rough

Money ain’t enough,

Living off the cuff,

Much easier to bluff,

Or be a cream puff.

Until you send your stuff,

And get published on the HUFF…

ME:   Stop.  Get Out!  YOU got on the Huffington Post with THAT kind of writing?

WRITER FRIEND: (snort)  Yep, sure did.  Now let’s hear your news. . . Little Miss Menopause.

ME:  Never mind.

photo 5

(Pssssst.   I think it’s safe to tell you.  I AM A FEATURED BLOGGER ON HUFFINGTON POST TODAY.  I would be ever so honored if you’d take a minute to visit that link and leave me a comment at the bottom of my post over there.  Feeling extra generous?  Sharing the post with one of their Share buttons would make my day!  UPDATE:  Not sure how this happened but I was just notified that a SECOND POST OF MINE IS NOW BEING FEATURED ON HUFFINGTON POST COMEDY.  If you can find an extra moment to visit that one here, I would be thrilled.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Holidays: Let ’em Come to You!

holidaysHave you heard?  You can now talk to Santa Claus from your own living room.  He’ll visit live via the Internet and you’ll never have to leave the privacy of your home!  Listen to my family’s sneak preview of this new service.

SANTA:  Ho-Ho, Santa knows everything.  Have you been good boys and girls?

ME:  You tell me, Mr. Know-It-All Santa.  Have a look at my ten year old’s brand new jeans after he decided to go Knee Sledding.

SANTA:  Ho!  Those ARE some Holy pants!

ME:   And do you see my teenager, who merrily decided to dye her hair purple without my permission? And my eldest son who just crashed our Toyota sleigh? Can you hear my 14 year-old upstairs cranking up Rihanna? No Silent Night here.

KIDS:  Mom!  We thought we were Jewish?! 

SANTA:  Hmm, I’ll tell you what Santa’s little eye DOES spy, Mom.   Tsk, Tsk.   Someone could use a new vacuum, a dust mop, sponges, scrub brushes, Windex, and wow, are those a couple of dead rabbits Santa spots under your dining table?

ME:  Those are Bunny Slippers.  But tell you what Santa – – throw in a weekly maid service, and I’ll Jolly well convert the entire family by tomorrow.  Joy to the World.

BUT WHY STOP THERE?  OTHER HOLIDAY MAKE HOUSECALLS TOO!

VALENTINE’S DAY:  Romance & Intrigue!  To set the mood the day before, a mysterious invitation comes into your inbox from “Guess Who?” with a single rose image and a first clue that says, “To find the desire of your Heart – –  Check out the sale at Walmart!”  On Feb 14th, you follow all the rest of the hundred clues across the entire internet to websites for Hallmark, Lady Godiva Chocolate, Florists, Hair Salons, Spas, Jewelry, Shoe, and Dress shops, your excitement mounting.  By evening, when you are still being instructed (with clever little rhymes) to visit Verizon, the local realtor, supermarket, dry-cleaner, bank, pool and office supplies as well as numerous bowling alleys, you are starting to suspect that you’ve been part of an advertising scam.  But at least you’re too brain dead to care that your real-life sweetheart only sent you a stale Hershey bar leftover from Halloween (see below).  Happy Love Day!

HALLOWEEN:  Peace & Quiet!  A doorbell sounds melodically on your computer so you’re alerted to move closer to the keyboard.  Sweet little “Trick or Treat” exclamations come thru the speaker as two darling 5 year-old twins dressed as Ketchup & Mustard stand before you.  You click on the “Ooh and Ahh” icon and within 3-5 days, a Hershey’s gift card will be delivered from you to their home with a “How adorable you look!” sticker.  No more buying the bag of fun-size Snickers a week ahead of time and having to sheepishly replenish it the night before. . . because you ate them all.  Rest assured, if a large group of overgrown, sullen teenagers (not in costume) should appear, you can dim the monitor light and a 40 pt. font text will appear stating, “Sorry, out of candy.”  A newer addition of this Holiday will include mini-windshield wipers that will cleanse away the egg yolk mess without smearing your homepage.  Boo!

Yeah, it's cute but Whatever. When you've seen one condiment, you've seen 'em all.

Yeah, it’s cute but Whatever. When you’ve seen one condiment, you’ve seen ’em all.

THANKSGIVING:  No Muss, No Fuss! Your Personal Chef from Butterball, Inc. streams live into your home around 8 a.m. to lecture on Hens vs. Toms, Brining vs. Basting and stuffing the bird vs. stuffing your mouth.  Pop-ups are a new, cool feature of this App – – From pop-up thermometers in the turkey to frequent pop-up windows onscreen, showcasing kids whining to make cornucopias and pilgrim crafts that you can proudly display as centerpieces. Around 2 pm, the screen clouds over and slowly, one-by-one, photos of your entire extended family crystallize – – yes even Great Uncle Milton who smokes cigars has come.  Your sister-in-law announces the entire family is now vegetarian and your cyber experience completes itself with Grandma quoting the exorbitant calories and fat grams in just a tiny sliver of Pecan or Pumpkin Pie.  Happy Gobble Day!

NEW YEAR’S EVE:  Forget Times Square and the ball Drop!   Instead Drop the charges on your Ex, and then Drop the bomb on your kids when you proclaim your New Year’s Resolution is to go to an expensive ski-lodge as an intact happy family.  Suddenly you smile and shout, “April Fools!” as elaborate fireworks explode in the background on the monitor.   That’s right! This Bonus 3 in 1 Holiday App saves you time by integrating New Years with April 1st & The 4th of July.  Happy Combination Day!

I welcome ANY of your comments – – Or if you like, default to voting, Do you look forward to the holidays?  Or dread them?

Should You “Toy” With an Older Woman?

photo-139Disclaimer:  Occasionally I remember why I call myself “Little Miss Menopause” and do a post related to the topic.
There are board games meant for almost all phases of life – – from Childhood to the Thirty Something Crowd.  But why should a certain gender/age group be left out with nothing but “Old Maid” to entertain them?  Here are some newly revamped fun nights around the kitchen table for the 40 to 60 year-old female demographic.  And men, don’t stop reading here – – you may need to know the rules of the game(s)  if you expect to “play.”
MENOPAUSEOPOLY – – The classic game of monopolizing stuff from your opponents as you wearily drag your little pewter token – – a miniature fan, a Naturalizer high heel shoe, haircoloring kit, Prozac pill, a syringe of Botox, an iron and a thimble (see, I told you it would be classic, therefore still Chauvinistic!) around the board attempting to purchase back the properties of your Mind, Body & Spirit that you once possessed control over. Memory Lane, Sexual Drive, Brain Cell Way, Stability Street, Metabolism Court and Smooth Skin Avenue are just some spots you can land on. The Utilities are represented by Energy & Pep and Hydration. Or take a ride on the Wispy Waist-Line Railroad. But if you land on the unmade bed you must go directly to Never Satisfied Husband, do not Pass the Doctor and do not collect your 200 mg prescription for testosterone.
CHEST – – This is a game of the utmost strategy and wits, wherein you move your Queen many various bra sizes around a black and white checkerboard until you capture your current correct cup size which will vary depending on if you just ate a grain of salt or are up ½ a lb. But breast assured, once you do this, you can confidently say,  “Chestmate!”
HOOTS ON LADDERS – – Best if played directly after a good, satisfying game of “Chest.” The object is to walk by a construction crew and if you can still get any man at all, (even the male parrot on the drywall contractor’s shoulder) to wolf-whistle after giving you the once-over, you win! Batteries sold separately.
I APOLOGIZE – – It’s “Sorry” redone with an Anger Management theme. Simplistic little game with easy to follow rules, 1. I yell or throw my estrogen cream at you. 2. I try to atone while making flimsy hormonal excuses. 3. You forgive me. 4. I do it all over again on the next roll of the dice. Once I grovel enough, I graduate to the brand new 12 step game, “I Surrender” which culminates at the finish line where I sheepishly admit that even my Higher Power has no control over my temper during menopause.
AFFLICTIONARY – – Be the first to draw what ails you and let your partner guess before the timer runs out. You’ll sketch a body with sweat pouring out of it and they’ll guess “a bee sting.” You’ll doodle a giant stomach with lots of excess skin and they’ll guess “fallen arches.” At this point you’ll need a new partner. Makes a great party game until you draw your biggest affliction ever…a realistic picture of all the guests attending who have gotten on your last nerve. They guess correctly. And the Party’s over!  Nite, nite!
THOUGHTZZZZZZEE– – Who needs “Yahtzee” when you can noisily rattle 6 dice in a little jar, simultaneously giving yourself a migraine, just to eventually spill them out on the table to formulate thoughts that are so fleeting in your own head, you usually can’t remember them in time to vocalize, write or act them out. But be sure to scream out “Thoughtzee!!” at the top of your lungs so other players will run out of Tylenol and need to borrow yours. Comes with Tylenol PM bonus bottles so you can put the ZZZZZZ part of the game into your sleep.

 

GET A CLUE! – – Oh that Miss Scarlet – – she’s still sexy and hot, especially with this new Night Sweat edition. But watch out Professor Plum and all other male players – – She’ll conspire with her Gal Pals and then the crime will be “a lethal male bashing with Mrs. White, Mrs. Peacock in the Ballroom with The Mouth” – – the deadliest weapon of all.

Miss Scarlet Nowadays?? Oh No! Looks like my Mother got to Miss Scarlet and chopped her hair off. Because she thinks "Women over 40 must have short hair." What do you think??

Miss Scarlet Nowadays?? Oh No! Looks like my Mother got to Miss Scarlet and chopped her hair off. Because she thinks “Women over 40 must have short hair.” What do you think??

TRIVIAL DISPUTE – – It’s the game of Life…in other words who argues it better? The never-ending quest to always be right is the central theme of this fast-paced question and answer card game played in teams. Remind other players (your children) that you could’ve gone to law school if you hadn’t gotten married and devoted your life completely to raising a family. Fight with them over your borrowing skirts from your teenager’s closet. How else are you supposed to look younger? And that if they told you they were staying late after school but you forgot, it’s still their fault for not reminding you. Always remember to play The Guilt Card (find it at the bottom of the deck) and also you have one free, “Because I said so” pass to be used anytime you appear to be losing. Good luck!

TRAGIC 8 BALL – – The Magic 8 ball just as you remember it, but this time you will receive prophetic answers to all your earth-shattering calamities. Go ahead and ask questions like, “Am I destined to have a muffin top in all my jeans or just the Skinny Jeans?” and “Am I wrong for wanting men to suffer through every single one of these 34 symptoms too?” and of course, “Didn’t Heather Locklear look majorly photo-shopped on the cover of this week’s People magazine?” The answers of course will always be “Reply Hazy, try again” because the “Tragic 8 Ball” is now a fifty year old toy and therefore also going through menopause, with brain-fog of its own.

Now, I’ll race ya to the nearest Toys R Us, where thankfully they still have the plain and simple “RandyLand”   Candyland, with no age limit to the fun it brings!

 

Have a favorite childhood game?  How would you give it a makeover for your generation?

 

An Open (Mopin’, Copin’, Gropin’ & Hopin’) Letter to the Internet:

To My Dearest Internet . . .

To My Dearest Internet . . .

Dear Internet,

Some days you’re a treasure I’d never replace – –  just wanna send you a Cyber Hug.

Other days, you’re nothing but a huge disgrace  – – just wanna pull your darn plug.

Without you, I wouldn’t have found a website to meet the Man of My Dreams,

Or discovered that Organic Farm Raised salmon isn’t always what it seems.

Farm raised or Wild? The Internet has the scoop on which is worse for you! Oh and google, "blackened lemons" you'll be outraged at what that does to your health!

Farm-Raised or Wild? The Internet has the scoop on which is worse for you! Oh and google, “blackened lemons” you’ll be outraged at what that does to your health!

Thank goodness you give me the opportunity to cleverly Google. . .

“How to find free coupons” so I can actually claim to be frugal.

You’re adorable – –  everyday I can see another cute, little kitten,

Or check out WordPress for new great posts *that’ve recently been written.

But when I look up  *“that’ve”  on the online Webster Dictionary,

to make sure it’s a true contraction, I find out it’s purely *Fictionary!

Oh wait, there’s more! I search and find  *“Fictionary”  is also not a real word?

You’re wasting my time with all this obsessive checking, it’s totally absurd!

But thanks for letting me bank, shop, and rent movies with a click – – so convenient.

Until lotsa time gets wasted when your Password Prompts aren’t very lenient.

The name of my first pet? First boyfriend? First Pimp? Which town did I go to school in?

No, you didn’t really ask me the Pimp question, I confess I was sorta just foolin’!

And you SHOULD Remember them. But how?? Who was my first boyfriend anyway? The boy I passed notes to? The boy I hit? The boy I kissed? The boy I . . . ?

And you SHOULD Remember them. But how?? Who was my first boyfriend anyway? The boy I passed notes to? The boy I hit? The boy I kissed? The boy I . . . ?

But then you eagerly insist I type some odd code to prove I’m a real person,

A string of nonsense so hard to decipher, my disdain for you starts to worsen.

Why do you need my information to be so secure, so precise and so exact?

I found out the other day, it’s because people like me tend to get hacked!

Go ahead – – mess up my accounts, my Facebook, blogs, & email – – there’s nothing left,

Before the invention of you, Dear Internet, there wasn’t this much Identity Theft!

Well if they become me, they’ll get my poor memory, my big hair, plus six kids galore,

Come to think of it, even I don’t really desire to be Me anymore!!

But one things for sure, you need to stop making everything be about sex,

In that way, Dear Internet –  –  you actually remind me an awful lot of my Ex.

We can filter our drinking water, our swimming pools, our coffee, and an aquarium. But can we filter out S-E-X ??

We can filter our drinking water, our swimming pools, our coffee, and an aquarium. But can we filter out S-E-X  from the Internet??

My Ex loved computers and when we divorced, shortly after his move-out evacuation. . .

I inherited his Apple before I knew how to use it – – I call it “Premature iMaculation.”

“Hey! This is Little Miss Menopause’s Ex-husband chiming in, none of this is true,

It seems she writes whatever she wants about me, and her Followers have no clue!”

See Dear Internet?  Even a simple poem that I compose for you is subject to a hijacking.

If I were smarter, I would write on a typewriter – – and just like my Ex, send you packing!

Well it looks as though (at least for the foreseeable future) you’re staying a big part of my life,

But no more Info about Cleaning, Recipes for Dinner, and Sex – – I am sooo NOT your Wife!!

 

Disclaimer:  “Man of Dreams” and “Ex Husband” mentioned without their permission.  They comment here regularly.  Please visit their WordPress blogs as way of compensation for “good-natured” participation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But First . . . Lemme NOT Take a Selfie!

photo-405In Breaking News, the word “Selfie” has now made it into the official Scrabble Dictionary during this recent month of Aug, 2014.  And here to tell us more about the story, as well as some of the history of Selfies is our own Roving, Roaming (and Random) Reporter, Little Miss Menopause.

Thank you, News Room.  The first historical documentation of the word “Selfie” occurred in 1964 when some kid named Ralph turned around and pointed his Polaroid camera straight into his own face so he could see how bright the flash actually was.  Dressed in costume for their annual holiday family portrait, his parents framed the little overexposed, Red-Eyed Santa’s Helper, placing it on the Mantle for all to see. That night when company came for Christmas dinner, they bragged . . .

“There’s our Ralphie in a Selfie as an Elfie on the Shelfie.”

Shouldn't these be called "Woofies?"

Shouldn’t these be called “Woofies?”

But today, as cell phone camera popularity surges, the Selfie has become the sort of photography phenomenon that nobody can escape.  I myself, feel that taking portraits should be something intimate and beautiful that’s only shared between two loving and committed people, the Professional Shooter and the Subject – –  but if our society is okay with Technological Masturbation, who am I to argue?

However, many have not anticipated the newest strict laws sweeping the nation.  The Selfie format will quickly be replacing all prior cases where professional photography was previously used and in some cases, legally mandated.  Examples of this will soon be found in your local Department of Motor Vehicles, Passport Offices, County Jails, and even Playboy Magazine.  So how might these professional photographers (who are soon to become jobless) feel about these laws? Listen to my brief interviews.

First I talked with Dick Handle, Head Photographer at Playboy Magazine:

“I don’t know, Little Miss Menopause.  It’s really not gonna work.  First of all, one of the reasons men buy Playboy is because they know a male is posing these girls – – Guys instinctively know what other men wanna see.  If women take their own Selfie and that becomes the centerfold, it’s gonna be all fashion oriented with close-ups of their purses and shoes.  I don’t know any healthy red-blooded male who wants to see a pair of shoes over a pair of bongos like yours.  Know what I mean, heh heh?”

Um, Sorta.  Additionally, Mr. Handle has these suggestions to share, should the “Do It YourSelfie” laws take effect.

TIPS FOR PLAYBOY CENTERFOLD SELFIES

Bring your own high speed Fan and Favorite Cleavage Faker bra.  Look seductively into the lens, lick your lips, and choose one of the following phrases to shout flirtatiously at yourself, while wolf-whistling:

a)  Show me that sexy little pout!

b)  That’s it Baby, the camera loves you!

c)  C’mon Sweetheart, Arch your back – – close your eyes and say “Super Bowl Sunday.”

photo 1-7

Over at the California Crowded Community Criminal County Concourse Correctional Center where they Charge Creepers with Crimes, I spoke with Melvin Mugsly who asked me to say that last sentence three times in a row, quickly.  Just kidding, he actually asked me if he could comment on what would take place if all Alleged incoming Bad Guys took their own official Mug Shots.  And he doesn’t mean pictures to be printed on Starbucks coffee cups, either.

“So you’re tellin’ me some dude who just got brung in from holding up Bank of America is gonna strut into a booth, with a mirror so they can go all pretty boy and smile nice for their Selfie Booking Picture?  I don’t think that’s right, Man.  They be all slumpin’ down in front of the height wall so they look shorter and shit.  Oh, I get what’s happenin’ now!  This here’s one of them joke shows.  Looky here.  This is Candid Camera, right?  I always wanted to be on that thing.”

Not quite Mr. Mugsly.  However he does bring up a good point.  How will these Selfie 10 Most Wanted Posters hanging on walls in the post office, appear to customers?  Gone will be that fierce, “You don’t want to run into me in a dark alley” grimace and instead, many of them might very well look like our own husbands after they mow the lawn and are demanding sex, eh ladies? (But we all know he’ll settle for a cold beer!)

How do we know he's really not a midget wearing high heels? Selfie Mug Shots will be very deceiving.

How do we know he’s really not a midget wearing high heels? Selfie Mug Shots will be very deceiving.

Next I chatted with Miss Daisy Driver (no relation to Driving Miss Daisy) at the Department of Motor Vehicles and asked her what will happen when people are allowed to snap their own photo for their official driver’s license picture?

“Well, I really don’t think it’s going to change anything at all.  People are already coming in here and writing the answers to “what should you do when you come to a four-way stop?” on their hands so they can pass the test.  Everybody has the eye chart completely memorized so they won’t have to wear glasses.  Women are constantly fudging their weight on the form.  I don’t see what difference it’s going to make if their Selfie picture actually looks half decent, instead of looking like a mutant squashed alien with limp hair and dreadful skin.”

Before I wrap up my feature story, let me just say that there’s also been talk of Selfies infiltrating into the Baby Photography industry.  Instead of professional grown-ups hiding behind expensive equipment with a black velvet cloth draped over it, exclaiming “Say Cheese!” there will be special toy cameras, perhaps a bit more sophisticated than the one pictured below.  Children will be encouraged to jingle a set of keys at themselves, while making goofy clucking sounds with their lips to coax themselves into their first real smiles.  Asian Child Photographer (and chef!)  Goo Goo Ga-Ga Gai Pan was unavailable for comment.

This has been a special featured story from your Roving, Raving (and Writhing!) Reporter, Little Miss Menopause.  And now. . . Back to you.

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