For Whom The (Bar)Bell Tolls!

Why do I have to be Apple Shaped?

Why do I have to be Apple Shaped?

Summer is almost here.  If you’re a female, do you have Gaps and Bridges?  No, don’t head to a dentist – –  I mean “Thigh Gaps” and “Bikini Bridges.”   You will see them pictured below.  After you achieve these spaces between body parts, you might want to work on your Chin Chasm, Leg Lag, Neck Scape, and then your crowning glory, which would of course be some Shoulder Scaffolding.

If any teen girl is reading this – – deciding they have their work cut out for them at the gym, carving or rearranging their body parts (before bathing suit shopping)  I need to make sure you first rearrange your tongue firmly inside your cheek!  Because tongue-in-cheek is how I write this blog.  Miss Menopause endeavors to find the fun and frivolity, even in Society’s Serious Stupidity.  But not if it kills her.  Therefore she won’t starve or break her back lifting heavy weights.  So you too, Dear Reader – – Reject all suggestions that how you currently are isn’t good enough.

"Thigh Gap"  Gasp at this Gap.  REJECT THIS!

“Thigh Gap” Gasp at this Gap. REJECT THIS!

Enough has been written about Diets, so for the sake of word count, I will skip over Calorie Humor and only mention that this next Halloween, I already have my costume in mind.  I am dressing up as part Baked Potato and part White Rice.  Can’t wait to hide around corners,  jumping out to say “Boo” to all those who are terrified of Carbs.

Psycho Music Screeching!  Imagine how much more scared she would be if this were a slice of bread!?

Psycho Music Screeching! Imagine how much more scared she would be if this were a slice of bread!?

Now let’s head to the gym, shall we?  But first it should be noted that I haven’t stepped into a fitness center since the early 80’s when I thought the Aerobic fad meant we all had to learn the foreign tongue spoken in Saudi Arabia.  I was also quite turned off that women stopped shaving their legs until I looked closely and realized that all that “fur” was just the leg-warmer trend.

Now that Aerobic is called Cardio and calves are bare again, I think it’s safe to step foot back inside.

I tell myself I am going to the gym for my interior, not my exterior.  Because our bodies are simply just shells (think eggshell) that contain the important stuff – – our essence (the yolk or our souls) of the people we really are.

It doesn’t matter what our shells look like as long as we are good people inside and have healthy organs. I almost have myself believing this until I see a size 2 blonde BombSHELL parade down the beach as Men rush over to throw down their towels so she doesn’t burn her dainty manicured feet.  While I hop along the scalding sand, I make a mental note to violently crack open and vigorously beat as many eggs as I can find for a cheese and avocado omelette when I get home.

But back to my health and my first trip to the gym.  I am told I have Adrenal Fatigue (that’s the new catch phrase, right?)  and advised that exercise will alleviate this exhausting condition.  I’m not sure how that will help if my adrenals are too tired to do anything once I arrive.  But I plan to start them off slowly.  First I’ll coax one of my adrenal glands onto the Exercycle, while the other one will be encouraged to gently swims laps in the pool.  And I’ll take a nap.

Speaking of swimming,  I plan on snorkeling around my living room couch a little bit each day to benefit my Indoor Fins.  Oh! That’s Endorphins.  Never mind.

But here I am – – finally inside this gym!  I do a ton of huffing, puffing, heaving, tugging and pushing, but it’s totally worth it  – – I get my work-out shorts on just fine.

At a door with loud music blasting from within,  I am greeted by Gwyneth Paltrow’s twin sister chirping, “Hya, I’m Kimba! Welcomma to our Gymba. Wanna try Zumba?”

Can I just say this – – “Rule of thumba: When you go outa on a limba, and shake your bumma to La Bamba, you’re gonna feel super dumba!”  Interestingly,  when the instructor has us check our pulse, I think I hear Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” coming from my wrist and take that as my cue to practice the Moonwalk.

Maybe it's really the beat of the Mexican Hat dance?  After all, it IS Latin?

Maybe it’s really the beat of the Mexican Hat dance? After all, it IS Latin?

After getting laughed out of the crazy Latin-inspired dance class, I wander thru some more doors down a long hallway and into a little room where women sweat and perspire.   A lady with annother unusual accent (is this Italian?) remarks, “I just love having sonnas.”   She gives me a dirty look when I ask her if she also likes her daughteras?  Then a trim, white-towel swathed brunette says it’s been ages since she had a sauna.  Still trying to fit in with the hip lingo spoken in this little wooden room (and finding the high temperature intolerable!) I mutter, “Sauna of a Gunna – – it’s hot in here!  You would think they could afford air-conditioning with our high membership dues!”  As I’m escorted out, I overhear the brunette ask a redhead if this is still an exclusive health spa?

Some people can be so touchy.  I was only trying to fit in.

Some people can be so touchy. I was only trying to fit in.

But now I know exactly what I need – – gosh, I haven’t had one in years!  As the masseuse rolls and kneads my backside with her strong hands, I am reminded that I really should bake homemade bread more often.

Next I go through some double doors and meet a handsome young fitness instructor named (according to large print across his white shirt) Nike, who offers to show me where I can pump. Having weaned my son from breastfeeding many years ago, I shyly decline. He gestures at the dumb-bells and grunts, “No! I mean Iron!” I casually thank him and explain that I use the dry cleaners down the street. He and his friend Reebok, continue staring oddly as I glance behind them, swooning over the only comfy, padded, flat surface in the entire room – – a Slantboard!

Yawning, I pull on my jammies, blow everyone a goodnight kiss, and curl up for my well-deserved nap!  The true cure for Adrenal Fatigue!

Would You Rock The Boat???

photo-303Summer is almost here and it’s time for me to think of another “Creative Vacation.” The kids have rejected the “Staycation” concept for a while now. That’s where you stay home and pretend you’re a tourist in your own city. (Note: At this point, do NOT suggest Disneyland.)  I also have a few other original ideas I present to them:

I turn on the backyard sprinklers, for a fun “Spraycation.”

And . . .

We go in a horse drawn carriage for an exciting “Neighcation.” 

But they aren’t buying any of it.

What??  Haven't you ever gone on a great "Haycation" before?!

What?? Haven’t you ever gone on a great “Haycation” before?!

Yesterday I went on a website where you “Name your own price for hotel rooms and flights.” But I either insulted the computer with my cheap $$ suggestion or it defaulted to Walmart – –  because after I made my seat selection on the airline, it impertinently asked me, “Paper or plastic?”

Next, the dreaded task began… (cue Jaws music) … bathing suit shopping!  (worse than Jean shopping) And with a 16 year old Selena Gomez lookalike daughter yet!  I won’t belabor the scene, but let’s say the tissues you use for your summer hay fever have sturdier fabric than the new bikini she’s begging to parade around in 24/7.  Where’s the Freaky Friday movie switching experience when you need it?

Since apparently this has now become a “Weighcation,” I needed to reassure myself by stepping on my Denial Scale.  That’s a new contraption that mercifully won’t disclose your actual poundage, but only displays the amount you’ve gained (please no!) or lost since the last time you foolishly stood on it.  (Don’t believe me?  Click here. )  My ex-husband says it’s like going to a Doctor who won’t diagnose my disease, but only confirms whether I’m recovering or getting sicker.

And trust me, I AM getting sicker….much sicker by the minute.

When packing time comes, a brand new revelation occurs to those of us who haven’t flown in years (because we’re terrified that the pilot just found out his wife has been cheating on him – –  and now he could care less if he dies and he’s taking the rest of us down with him) – – The new revelation is that our luggage must also slim down!  What???

The airline’s imposed “50 lb. suitcase per person” rule throws a wrench in my “Just In Case” packing ritual.  Actually there’s no room for a wrench in my bag now.

My “Just In Case”  (get it?  Case!!) packing ritual goes like this . . .

Note: It sounds much better if you think of it as a poem.


WHAT IF . .  .

It rains?

It doesn’t rain?

The pillows are bad?

The hotel has no iron to be had?

My hair breaks out?  My skin gets frizzy?

A high heel breaks because I got dizzy?

I meet a tall man?

A short man?

A man with 20/20 vision?

A man without a circumcision?

I meet a mouse?

I cry and cry?

My eyes get dry

A nail breaks?

My mascara flakes?

My purse clashes with the bellman’s tie?

Okay, obviously stuffing in everything to cover all the above hypothetical scenarios into one Carry-On Bag is impossible. 

And then it happens!   I see the ad in the travel magazine.  The answer to everything.  No dieting or bathing suit needed to go here!   No luggage restrictions!   No flying on a plane.


Let Doozy Cruisey whisk you away on a dream Alaskan vacation.  See Huge Glaciers!  Whales!  Wildlife other than your children! Choose your own cruise theme!

*  Booze Cruise   *  Snooze Cruise    *  Shoes Cruise   *  Jews Cruise   *  “Tom Cruise” Cruise  *  Blue’s Clues Cruise  *photo-300

Okay so that last part was a little strange but nonetheless, it was worth a phone call.

Doozy Cruisey Specialist:  Hello!  I’m just oozing to talk about cruising!

Me:  Um, maybe you better put a bandage on that.

Ten minutes later, my family (me and six children) are booked inside a 400 sq ft. cabin (one King size bed, plus they assured me the desk drawers ingeniously turn into bunk beds that kids love!)

Twenty minutes later, Doozy Cruisey calls me back.

Doozy Cruisey Specialist:   Hi!  This is Doozy Cruisey, where your ship always comes in!

Me:   Is something wrong?

Doozy Cruisey Specialist:  No Ma’am.  I’m just calling to let you know there’s been a slight change in your ship’s itinerary.  Your particular cruise will no longer make stops in Juneau, Anchorage or Seward.  This is due to an engine defect and until we fix the problem, the ship cannot sail faster than 10 knots.

Me:  But those were the only stops in Alaska we were making!

Doozy Cruisey Specialist:  I understand, but do you remember your geography?   Alaska is near Seattle, so we’ll be stopping there instead.

Me:  There are no glaciers in Seattle.

Doozy Cruisey Specialist:  And to compensate for that, the captain is going to be turning on the air-conditioner more often and creating some beautiful ice-sculptures on the midnight buffet.  The ship will also screen the movie “Frozen”  24/7 on your cabin TV.

Here is another bonus the Captain of the ship was throwing in to make up for Alaska.

Here is another bonus the Captain of the ship was throwing in to make up for Alaska.

Me:  Refund please.

Doozy Cruisey Specialist Now, now.  All the other passengers are in the same boat.  Ha Ha.  And none of them are demanding refunds.

Me:  Give me my money back.

Doozy Cruisey Specialist:  Don’t take that tone with me, Ma’am.  You’re cruisin’ for a bruisin’.  You better shape up or ship out.  The only thing we can do is switch you to another cruise.

Me:  What are my other options?

Doozy Cruisey Specialist:  You could take a cruise to Nowhere.

Me:  Where does that one stop?

Doozy Cruisey Specialist:  Nowhere.

Me:  Nowhere is NOT a destination.

Doozy Cruisey Specialist:  If you ask Peter Pan, it is.  He sailed to Neverland.

Me:  He flew there.

Doozy Cruisey Specialist:  Well, that’s the beauty of cruising.  You get to sail instead of fly. You don’t have to worry that the pilot of the airplane just found out his wife had an affair and so he’s angry and taking everyone down with him.

Me:  That would only occur to a crazy person.

Doozy Cruisey Specialist:  Let’s get back on track.  (I used to sell Train Trips)  The reason for my call is to see if you’d like to purchase Trip Insurance for only $1,200.  In case you need to cancel your trip to Alaska for any reason, you’d get a complete refund.

Me:  But YOU just did cancel my trip to Alaska!

Doozy Cruisey Specialist:  Why do you wanna go there anyhow?  Whatever floats your boat.  But  I read your blog.  You’re already a cold fish.  Completely frigid in bed.  You and your ex-husband were like two ships passing in the night.  You don’t exactly have a face that could launch a thousand ships, either.

Me:  That’s it!  I’m leaving the worst review on Yelp that you’ve ever had.  Actually, I’m going to blog about you.  Just wait.  I’m gonna take the wind right outa your sails.  Make waves for you at work.  My readers will never book a cruise with your company.

Doozy Cruisey Specialist:  You wouldn’t dare.  Hello?  Ma’am?  Calm down….no blogging……

Me:  Thar’ She Blows!!






 This was inspired by true events which you can read about HERE.  Do you have a vacation that went wrong before you even left your house??