So Tired of the Double Standards!

Please tell me I'm not the only one who has noticed this shit running rampant in today's society. The prevalence of double standards has become utterly ridiculous and I am sick to fucking death of it. Ranging from half naked women in TV commercials to slut shaming our daughters for wearing "provocative" clothing such as leggings to high school, how the hell do we live in a society that can't get its bitching straight? We aren't sure what offends us, but goddamn it we are offended at every turn. Over-sensitive yet hyper-sexualized, we go through our days alternately drooling and getting pissed off at what is basically the same thing!

Let's explore the things that are perfectly fine to do and seemingly offend no one. Flip on your television and start counting the number of commercials that are geared toward horny 15-65 year old men. Anyone want a Carl's Jr. burger? Barely dressed and eating the burger like they are fellating the damned thing, these women are supposedly the customers at your local Carl's Jr. and want you to drive on over and order some fries with that deep throat, I mean Six Dollar Burger. First of all, ask yourself this question, are these the women at your local fast food restaurant? Certainly not at mine. These women aren't likely to be eating anything off those menus unless they come with a barf bag for immediate calorie disposal. Secondly, who do you think takes their children to these places and spends their cash at these places? Swarthy, sexy single men in search of these steamy women and fried food? Um, no. Moms, imperfect and human moms are the ones bellying up to the counter and ordering food for their hungry, screaming brood. Do men eat here? Sure. But why are we only targeting them in these ads? One single man comes in and orders a burger, fries, and a shake. Solid order. A mom comes in with her three kids and their three friends and orders lunch for all. Which order is making the restaurant more money? How about we start targeting hungry people instead of horny ones when we are trying to sell food? Horny people aren't in search of an order of fries. Just a point to ponder. On the flip side of that same corporation, when they do use men in their commercials, they are not only fully dressed, they are eating like slobs.Why the stark difference? Is this to appeal to the moms who want to clean him up, tell him to take smaller bites, and chew with his mouth closed? Right, didn't think so.

What have we learned from one simple commercial? That objectifying women is perfectly acceptable to attain corporate gain. We can treat women like sex toys on TV and in print ads as long as it sells our products and gets us some serious brand recognition. Hm. Do women not shop or spend money? Are we still kept by men and flitting about at home, worrying about what to make for hubby's dinner, washing the kids' faces, and reapplying lipstick right before the big, strong man comes home from work? Stop laughing, you'll piss your pants and blame me. Since this is clearly not the case, why aren't we seeing half naked men in Speedos, dripping with oil, and seductively licking a food item in order to convince us to buy the product being hawked in the commercial? Because we aren't viewed as the primary consumer of most goods. Ever notice that household goods are marketed differently? Cutesy, sometimes funny, and appealing to the mommy set...very targeted, yet very sexist. Based on this men get horny, but women want to nurture children and clean things. Seriously? We still think this way in 2016?

Here's where America confuses the shit out of me, and likely you, too. If it is acceptable to objectify women for corporate gain, then why can't our daughters dress the way they goddamn please? Why is it that they are accused of being too sexy and driving the boys to behave poorly? There are a few problems in this situation we've created. I have a daughter and understand wanting to protect our little girls. We should create a world that is safe for them to express their unique style in any way they choose without worrying about being touched or spoken to inappropriately. So, tell me why schools have made rules banning yoga pants and forcing girls to wear bras. If their bits are properly covered, why are we up in arms about girls dressing for comfort? Are we raising our sons to look at girls as eye candy instead of people? Why are they unable to control their impulses and boners when a pretty girls walks by in yoga pants and a t-shirt? We need to teach them that girls are their equal and deserve respect. Look them in the eye instead of the tits, and treat them like you would another guy...or your mother. When we enforce rules regarding the way girls dress and use the excuse that they are riling up the boys, we are leaving the door open to blame these same girls for "asking for it" when they are sexually assaulted.

I have a wild idea for you, so hold on to your hats because it's going to blow you away. How about we start treating girls and women with the same respect we would expect others to if they were our mothers, wives, sisters, or daughters? While we are at it, let's give allowing them the same freedoms that our boys enjoy at school, like dressing how the fuck they want without fear of repercussions or harassment a try. Thinking that double standards and retro backwater thinking is what will make America great or save our country from going down the toilet, is the same as voting for Trump. Who here thinks I'll be doing that on Election Day?  Are you friggin kidding me right now???

Put the Cream Back in My Creamer! Carrageenan is NOT the Devil.

Shall we first discuss the basics of coffee drinking without bringing up our favorite Starbucks or Peet's drinks? Dunkin vs Starbs...not interested. What I'd like to go over with you is the main reason we put some form of dairy/non-dairy product into our morning joe. TO MAKE IT SMOOTHER AND CREAMIER! Right. Now that I have your attention, and likely your full agreement, let's move on to the varying types of items you can put into your coffee to elicit that effect. There's good old cow's milk at all fat levels, including a favorite of mine, half and half. You can use non-dairy creamers like Coffee Mate if you prefer, and they even come in flavors! I'll admit to dipping into the seasonal flavors around Christmas time. Then there are the non-dairy nut alternatives, like coconut creamer and almond creamer. I love almond milk and coconut milk so these creamers were a no-brainer for someone like me. I'm in! All of these options, when used in your steaming hot cuppa, make it deliciously smooth.

Having used coconut creamer after discovering it at my local Sprouts, I stopped using every form of cow's milk in an attempt to avoid extra hormones skating through my already estrogen crazed body. Much to my excitement, this stuff was the shit! My coffee tasted so amazing with it, I quickly booted cow's milk out of the rotation and bought coconut creamer exclusively. Even my daughter caught the bug and began buying it for herself. My mornings were lovely and I looked forward to each cup I drank before heading out to work, and sometimes I would even grab a to-go cup for one more dose. This joy went on for years and once in a while, I would dip back into a flavored Coffee Mate around the holidays. I didn't even drink cow's milk with cookies! Almond milk, thank you. Until IT happened.

What the fuck could have happened that would have stopped this joy ride? What took the coconut creamer out of my fridge and forced it to be replaced with half and half? Not a spoiled container because that shit lasted forever! Nothing worse than curdled coffee, and coconut creamer never did me like that. No, this was far more evil and caused me to lose my fucking marbles because I didn't want back on the hormone train of dairy in my damn coffee. One fine day, I purchased a new container of coconut creamer, from Sprouts, as I always did, and brought it home to use immediately since I had run out. Upon pouring it into my coffee, I noticed that the color in my cup seemed off. I took a big sniff of the creamer and it smelled lovely. Ok, fine. It's not bad. I dumped out the cup, which in my world is a cardinal sin, and poured a fresh one. Tipping the creamer container slowly over my cup and watching it carefully for some clue as to why it made my coffee look wrong. Seeing nothing unusual, I tasted it after stirring for a long time, trying to make it the color it was supposed to be. Oh for fuck's sake, it tasted wrong, too! Then I noticed it. There were little white dots floating around on the surface of my beloved drink. What the fresh fuck was going on??? Well, I dumped that cup out and drank the next one black...and pissed off.

The next day, I bought another pint, hoping it was just a bad batch. Tested it out, and the same goddamn thing happened. What is happening? What kind of dark magic is this? Not one to take a situation at face value, I start reading the container. OH. MY. GOD. New formula. Now carrageenan free! Are you out of your fucking mind? Are you a window licking fucktard? Carrageenan is what makes the damn creamer CREAMY. It's a fucking emulsifier...it belongs there. Who decided this would be a good thing? Who is the ass munch and how do I get a hold of him to punch him in the throat? Totally furious and ready to skin alive the crotch stain who changed the formula, I started researching carrageenan. Well, as you may already know, it is made from edible red seaweed. Hm. We eat seaweed every time we have sushi. No one has made seaweed-free sushi. Plugging on, I see that some research indicated that it may cause inflammation, ulcerative colitis, and cancer...in lab rats. Um, ok. So, this gift from the heavens was removed from my beverage because some person found that it did nasty things to rodents?

Not just a person, but a doctor from the University of Illinois. Joanne Tobacman, associate professor of clinical medicine, claims that carrageenan elicits an immune response that causes inflammation...in lab rats. Before even continuing to discuss how stupid it is to use an animal whose internal organs are unlike humans, and mentioning that any time something is introduced to a lab animal to test it for negative reactions, they use 600 times the amount you would ever consume in a lifetime...let's dive into the form of carageenan this bitch was testing. I'm going drop some science, so dumb asses get ready to use Google. Carrageenan comes in two forms, degraded and undegraded. No, people aren't sexually harassing the stuff, it's what happens when it is broken down. Degraded carrageenan was being tested on these poor lab animals at volumes never used in any food product. Undegraded carrageenan is also known as FOOD GRADE. Wonder why? Because the FDA has a rigorous testing process that determines what ingredients are fucking safe to eat!

My coconut creamer and other non dairy food products were having this lovely red seaweed ingredient ripped out because of invalid research. The undegraded form does eventually degrade but never in the amount that could be considered a threat to human health. Why? Oh right, because the fucking FDA made sure of it when they approved the fucking stuff. Why do we dick with things that work? Has the news been filled with reports of people keeling over from intestinal pain after too much goddamn carrageenan? Are oncologists warning against coconut creamer? Were people getting the shits? What brought this panic on? Some stupid research that flies in the face of what the people keeping us from eating and dying all these years have found safe for us to ingest! Further research showed that it was not a carcinogen at all but "just to be safe" they were removing it from many non dairy products. Why do we succumb to irrational panic? Are we sheeple? What form of chimp logic tells you that if research is rebuked sufficiently, you still need to run screaming? For those still not convinced that it is safe, riddle me this...why is it still in ice cream, chocolate milk, and low fat yogurt?

My coffee is now graced with half and half and ever shall be until we either stop acting like irrational ass clowns or someone finds a new all-natural, organic, vegan, cruelty-free emulsifier to make coconut and almond creamer more palatable again. We have enough to worry about without researchers causing widespread agiation over something that has very little basis in fact and doesn't directly relate to human health. Do I care about the health and safety of the food I serve in my house? Of course I do. Am I going to sacrifice flavor due to the scare tactics of extremists and paranoid researchers? Are you friggin kidding me right now???

Overprotective Parents are Raising Unprepared Adults: Part One

When I first thought about this topic, I wanted to address the folks that still resided in my old neck of the woods. Almost daily on Facebook, there is some form of whining and expressions of discomfort about raising children in today's world coming from people I remember being far more badass than this. Life is too hard and scary ramblings are causing me to slowly lose my fucking mind. Never was there a day in my life that I felt like basic first world problems would provide a gigantic stumbling block which would prevent me from living a happy life. Yet, as I looked at these complaints online, I started to wonder if I was being too harsh. Quickly, I had determined that not only was I not being too harsh, but I discovered that it wasn't only those who originally hailed from my old stomping grounds. It's all of you! What in the hell happened to being grown ass people with testicular fortitude, common sense, and the ability to let the bullshit roll off our backs so we can focus on the real meat of life? More specifically, my real question is this...why have we become such a soft, easily frightened, overly offended, hyper protective society? Furthermore, does anyone who fits this description think we are doing our children a favor by behaving like this?

While there are so fucking many areas where this type of veal-creating nonsense is prevalent, I have a select few that I'd like to bring to your attention. Beginning with the cries of fear that their delicate little flowers will be injured at the park or on the playground. Constantly looking for what they feel are saftey infractions, these moms will rant and rave about how there isn't enough cushioning underneath the play structures, and ask Jesus and whoever else why the slides are so hot and the openings at the top of the slide aren't barricaded to prevent falls. And OMG, the monkey bars are so high and the sides of the sandbox have spaces for little fingers to get caught!!! Committees are formed and meetings are held. Letters are written to the appropriate board of playground vealification and families are up in arms. How can we take our children outside to play  in carefully selected playgroups with children who have been pre-screened and vetted by a panel of experts and proven to be perfectly matched if the goddamn playgrounds are fucking landmines of peril?

Hold on there, Sally Safety! Didn't you grow up in the same era that I did? Correct me if I am wrong, and I don't believe that I am, but didn't you slide down metal slides in August while wearing shorts? Those of us over 40 certainly recall the slide burns on the backs of our thighs that didn't stop us from climbing the ladder and doing it again and again. We eventually cooled off the surface with our asses and had fun. Who among you hasn't fallen off the jungle gym, while hanging upside down from your knees onto the concrete below? I daresay everyone my age has done some variation on this theme. We even, GASP, stood up on swings and jumped off while mid-swing! Can you imagine doing this in front of today's parents? A fleet of ambulances would have to be called to take the crowd of unconscious mommies who've just suffered a cardiac event to the nearest hospital.

Skinned elbows, banged up chins, chipped teeth, twisted ankles...we have all felt the roughness of the concrete tearing through our flesh and pounding our bones as we fell from what would now be considered a perilous height while playing. Those of us who have experienced this bit of pain also learned what not to do the next time we went to the park. This type of education, otherwise known as acqurining common sense, can only happen when you are allowed to make mistakes. You cannot learn from the mistakes you haven't made and you can't become stronger and wiser if you go through life surrounded by padding and barriers. How will you know not to climb quite so high if you don't fall and figure out that it hurt like a fucker? Because mommy said so? Um, no. That's why kids test boundaries in the first place...to figure out how far they can push. How high can I climb? How far can I jump and still land on my feet? How fast can I go without winding up in the ER getting a cast? Maybe it will take several casts and many, many stitches before some will have developed this life skill. A few will seemingly never learn as children, but will apply this knowledge later on in adulthood.

Think for a moment and tell me why our kids can no longer go anywhere unattended. Why can't they take a bus or train to reach a destination? Heaven forbid they ride a bike or walk to a friend's house to play. Is the world really that different? We hear about the tragedies that befall children on the news only because they are being made more visible to the public. Shit happened all the time when we were kids. Doesn't anyone recall the warnings about vans hanging out by our schools and making sure you walked to and from school with a friend? I do. I remember having nightmares about it, but what I don't recall was anything in my life changing due to my mom's irrational fear of allowing me to leave the house alone. That's because she didn't have it. She knew that she taught me well, gave me all the tools I needed, and had allowed me to make my way in the great, wide world on foot from a young age. Crazies have existed since the dawn of time, we just didn't have their diagnoses to elicit paranoid responses. We went about our lives, playing in the streets or in the schoolyards, no grown ups to be found. And somehow, some way, we managed to return home when it started to get dark. We even took buses and trains to school that were not yellow and did not have SCHOOL BUS plastered across the sides. Public transportation all by ourselves. We'd meet our friends and pile on these clunky, dirty buses together. Riding to school on the same buses that actual adults were on, trying to get to work. And we were just fine. We'd return home the same way, in one piece and unharmed. Shocking!

There are so many more topics I'd like to discuss with you, but I want you to have the time and opportunity to digest what I have said today. The point here is this, we can't protect our children from life and nor should we if we want to send them out into the world as safe, independently functioning adults. How many of you would like your children living with you at age 35 with no foreseeable move out date? Show of hands. Right. I didn't think so. We are the adults we are, scars and all, because we were permitted to fall, to fuck up, to get hurt. There are no band aids big enough to cover the giant wound you are creating in your child's future adult self by preventing him from learning the hard way at least once in a while. Am I that parent? Are you friggin kidding me right now???

Stick a Fork in Me, I am Done with Political Correctness!

Am I alone in thinking that we have taken political correctness, or being PC, too goddamn far? We've spent so much time and effort on being worried about offending others, we've lost our sense of reality. Why are we so concerned? During any given day, do you truly believe that the folks you are trying not to upset are wandering around, holding themselves tightly, brows furrowed, searching for ways to make sure your fragile little ego remains stroked and feeling safe? If you do, you are an asshole. In all likelihood, they couldn't give a fetid shit less. Most of us go about our days worrying about number one...maybe a few family members, but that is as far as it tends to stretch. Yet, one person calls someone Oriental instead of Asian and you'd think the world stopped spinning on its axis! What the fuck is wrong with us?

Here's where we go horribly wrong with our struggle towards the land of PC Perfection...making shit up in an attempt to not offend. The other day, on the news, I heard the newscaster use the term "Muslim-American" to describe the shooters in the San Bernadino tragedy. First of all, are we worried about offending people that went into a facility and killed a large group of people? People with zero regard for human life...these are the people whose feelings we are trying to protect? What the fuck am I missing here? Why the hell do we care so much? Fear? Fear that if we use the wrong term, someone will hurt us? I refuse to live that way. And if you choose to have a paranoid existence, leave me the hell out of it. Back in the day, oh around 1978 or so, do any of you remember being concerned about how to describe someone to one of your friends or relatives? Were you oh-so-careful to use proper terminology and tried really hard to not hurt anyone's feelings? If you say yes, you are a liar! If you say no, join the rest of us on this side of normal and grab a beer. It just wasn't done! You called it as you saw it and that was that. Not so now.

Inventing terminology to classify humanity due to irrational fear has to be the most fucktarded thing we do in 2015. Far more ridiculous than twerking or selfies, this trend of "ethnic invention" has gone out of fucking control. Let's go back to the term "Muslim-American" for a moment. Since when have we ever included someone's religion in their ethnic background to convey who they are to someone else? In my lifetime, no one has ever referred to me as a Catholic American, nor do I want anyone to do so. What I believe or don't believe has nothing to do with my heritage. The same goes for the term Muslim American...Muslim is a religion, not a race or ethnicity. This distinction is borne out of hate and fear, nothing more. We are categorizing people by religion out of hatred. Is this who we've become? Apparently so, and I am disgusted by all of you who use these terms.

Let's look at the terms African American and Asian. Can we actually hail from an entire continent? Do black people claim roots in everywhere from Libya and Egypt all the way through the Congo and Eritrea? Come now...really? Does the person you are referring to as Asian have relatives who are Pakistani, Russian, Afghani, and Iranian? Or are you speaking about someone who is Chinese...or Vietnamese, perhaps? By extension of this, you could call me European American. Do it and I'll punch you in the throat. Why? Because I have no relatives who come from Sweden, Scotland, Greece, or Latvia. No, I cannot be called European American, that would be a false as fuck statement and completely not descriptive of who I actually am. Once again, these terms I started the paragraph with came from a fear of offending others and from people deciding they no longer "liked" the words used to describe them.

Going a step further, and likely to piss a shit ton of you off, shall we examine the black/white distinction? I am willing to step on this potential land mine to make some very valid points and to attempt to correct our stupidity as a whole. I completely understand that some people do not want to be called a color, such as black. No one is truly the color black, now are they? On this, we can all agree. We needed a better term, a more accurate word. I get it. And let's face it, negro is just black in Spanish. Again, an inaccurate color. However, and I am gonna get some backlash now, and I really don't care...I am not WHITE. Grab a piece of paper from your printer. That shit is white. I am not that friggin color. I am nowhere near that shade, nor do I relate to it in any way. As a matter of fact, Italians are not completely white, by census standards. If you look into our heritage, southern Italians, in particular, we have...wait for it...AFRICAN blood in us. By African, I mean Arab African, but African nonetheless. So, then, do I check the African American box on a government form? Because, if I trace my lineage as far back as it could possibly go, I know for certain that I will find some African connections. But some of you will tell me I can't. Why? I know some people who would try to check that same box and speak fluent Italian and have, as do their parents, Italian birth certificates. Yet, in this country, we'd call them African American? Why the fuck?

Are we seeing how ridiculous this is starting to sound? Not yet? If so, I am not nearly done. We can agree that people should not be referred to by a color name in a box of Crayolas. That being the case, how do we refer to each other? How about by name? Not possible always, so we need another way. We have determined that religion is not the way...what now? I suppose we can just cover all the bases to be safe and not crack the shells of the fragile egos that seem to exist in our world today. Let's see if I can do it for myself so I don't dare hurt another human. I'd be a Female Heterosexual Catholic Fair-skinned Freckled Blue-eyed Redheaded European Italian North American Canadian North American New York Born California Residing American. Did I cover it all? Was anyone offended? Show of hands, please. Imagine, if you will, trying to repeat this to someone after just meeting me and wanting to relay information about me. Could you even remember it all? If I closed this document, I couldn't either. Thus proving, this manner of distinction, this way of categorizing people, has got to stop. We are who we are: human fucking beings. All of us. But if you want to go out there and describe me to someone, I'll accept...she's an American woman. Accurate as hell, don't you agree? And I promise to be as succinct about you. We can't be that stupid...are you friggin kidding me right now???

The Perimenopause Expert is In, Part Two

Ladies, I wouldn't leave you in your time of need! If only I could tell you that it gets easier, if only I could tell you the symptoms drop off one by one, leaving you feeling wonderfully renewed. I can't and I won't lie to you. I can honestly say that each of these symptoms pertain to me personally and I know all of you are feeling the same. My goal here is to make sure you know that you are never alone in this shit storm and not only am I here with you, I am holding the umbrella for both of us. Why we were chosen to stomp through what can only be described as soggy crap fields filled with pain and angst at an age when we should be feeling our best, is beyond my scope of imagination. At this point in our lives, since our children are older and self-sufficient, we should be able to return to that freedom we enjoyed pre-motherhood. Or at least you'd hope. But the raging bitch that is perimenopause has other plans for us. While men are opening up another button to expose their graying chest hair and driving around in their poorly chosen mid-life-mobiles, we are in the throes of something that would kill someone with a Y chromosome within a week, max.

Without further stuff and blather, I present to you more bullshit you may be enduring at this very moment:

11. Hot Flashes: In previous blogs, I have mentioned these little infernos of joy, but I would like to expand upon their life altering potential, if I may. It's one thing to feel hot. Many men think they feel hot and will joke that they are having a hot flash. At which point, I am forced to suppress an urge to plunge a knife deeply into their left ventricles and watch them bleed out like slaughterhouse pigs. Hot flashes are not a subject men are allowed to laugh about, nor can they ever claim they have felt anything close. There are actually different forms, as I have been lucky enough to discover!
       -There's the "average hot flash" which is basically the sensation of boiling from the inside out that generally starts at the collarbone, wraps around your circumference, and rises like flames all the way to the top of your head. This little beauty can and usually does result in some pretty copious amounts of sweat, causing you to be "that" woman, yanking your hair into a hand-held ponytail with one hand and fanning the back of your neck with the other. Sometimes running to the freezer for a brief yet satisfying arctic blast to the face. Good times.
       -Next, I've experienced the "clown cheeks hot flash" which is self-explanatory, yet I'd like to go a few steps further. Not only do your cheeks blaze a bright and embarrassing red seemingly out of nowhere, but if you are tuned in to your body, and most of us are while enduring the bliss of perimenopause, you will notice the feeling long before you are lucky enough to have someone point out that your cheeks make you look like Bozo. I usually compare the sensation to the heat I feel when I have a fever and my face just feels abnormally warm. That. These are my personal favorites because I do love being able to be outed as having a hot flash by anyone and everyone who happens to look my way.
      -The final form I've embraced in my world, is the "night sweat hot flash" which again, is self-explanatory. But why the hell not expand once again? Not just the feeling of needing to toss off (not the tossing off that men do when they think we haven't a clue) the comforter and leave the nice, cool sheet on to sleep comfortably. Oh no. This is the waking up feeling like someone dumped water all over you. Or in my case, dumped water all over my top half and needing to change my clothes. My answer to this little burst of happiness is to tear off my sleep tee and go back to bed on top of the covers till my temperature normalizes and I am freezing again.
Funny little aside, I actually have taken my temperature at the peak of a flash, only to discover that I spike a "fever" during one. My normal body temperature is usually between 97.8 and 98.2, +/- a tenth. My hot flash temperature was a blazing 100.4!!! Have mercy!

12. Apathy: Yes, you read that correctly. On any normal day, I give less than a shit about most things. Bring on perimenopause and watch that feeling dip to numbers in the negative. Even things I usually have passion for can sometimes seem like the most unappealing items on the menu of life. Why? Because my hormones suck rhino balls and they are what control my moods. For someone like me, you may think this is really no big deal. She's generally apathetic, anyway, what's the difference? Fucking huge. Generally, I care about what is really important and things over which I have some degree of control. Add some hormonal shift, and BAM. Even those things seem out of my grasp and I stop giving a fetid shit althogether. This is a problem of great magnitude when you have a job, a family, a life that you used to enjoy, for the most part. I know you ladies know exactly what I am referring to and you can't seem to shake the "who gives a fuck" feeling, either. This is where wine and I bond closely some evenings. Not a medically supported answer, but then, I'm not a doctor.

13. Nightmares: When I was a small child, I had serial nightmares. They were horrifying, I couldn't wake up, and they caused me to sleep with a blanket over my head years after they had ceased to plague me. My security blanket, which I still have, tucked away in my daughter's now unused closet, was the one thing that helped me sleep for all those years. I'm considering taking her out and using her superpowers all over again. Weird fucking dreams come when you least expect them, or so you think. Pay attention. Mine usually rear their ugly heads right before and during my blood flood days. Coincidence? I think not. Strange dreams that are clearly a rehash of all the things that cause me stress in the waking hours, manifesting themselves as images that can only be compared to the best of the best "slash and gash" B movies. Fortunately, I usually kick ass at the end of each of these little brain cinemas, unlike when I was a child. Unfortunately, I cannot wake up out of them, and this generally causes me to wake tired and semi-rattled. Thank you, estrogen, you cuntbucket.

14. Aches/Leg Cramping/Weakness: I'm just going to lump these little bits of ecstasy together because to me, they are all part of the same phenomenon. All of these symptoms seem to point to some sort of muscular trouble. Some mornings, I wake up feeling like I'm 80 years old with arthritis. Everything snaps and cracks with my morning stretch and I haven't even left the bed. Attempting to haul my bodacious ass out of the bed becomes another hurdle. As I sit at the edge of my bed wondering why the fuck I need to be up, I start to feel the leg cramping and more widespread aches. Why? Who the hell knows? What I do know, what sticks in my craw, is that this never used to happen. I'm not old for the love of all things good and holy. Why should I feel ancient? Oh, perimenopause, you assbag, this is another gift you've chosen to bestow upon me. I limp down the stairs, brew coffee, pour a cup to bring back up to the shower with me, and clomp into the shower to let the hot water beat on all the sore parts. Sometimes it works, sometimes it just feels good while I'm still in the shower. I don't get to choose the outcome. The leg weakness, I believe, is related to the gallons of blood loss I experience during my crime scene periods. This is why I take ridiculous amounts of iron all month long. I have noticed a slight change in that issue, but before you jump on that bandwagon, consult your medical practicioner. I'm not taking responsibility for diagnosing nor prescribing anything. Fuck that. I've got enough going on, or haven't you figured that out yet?

15. Itching: Not only have I seen this on all the perimenopause group timelines, but I have experienced it myself. I had attributed it to stress and perhaps it was stress. I was trying to meet a deadline for something which brought me no joy but had to be done, and I started itching. Not just your run of the mill little itch. I got tiny little bumps on my shoulders and arms and was scratching myself like a rabid animal. Actually afraid that I'd make myself bleed, I chose to soak in a bath with some Aveeno colloidal oatmeal for a bit and see if it helped. Like everything else, it was temporary and the itching and bumps continued. I've only itched like this during periods of great stress, so I figured that was all it was this time. Well, as time marches on, and I am under no real or imagined stress, I still feel itchy as fuck. I moisturize, I use lotion like it's going out of style, I take care of my goddamn skin. Why am I itchy? Oh come on. We both know the answer to this one. Perimenopause. Bless her little black and chalky heart.  This is just another treasured symptom and there's not a thing you can do. Luckily, it comes and goes or I'd go bat shit crazy. Keep your nails short and keep some unscented, hypoallergenic lotion always at hand.

16. Cravings and constant grazing: Like you're pregnant or something, GOD FORBID! In my case, anyway. I am hungry all freaking day long. My coffee habit and constant water drinking usually help to curb the incessant desire to fill my piehole with food. Thankfully, or I'd be the most zaftig bitch on the block. Sure, I'd rock it, but I'll pass, thanks. Throughout the day, I am seeking out snacks and munchies, savory and sweet. It really doesn't matter, I just want to chew. And chew, and chew, and chew. Generally, I don't eat too much crap, which is a blessing. But I have always been a volume eater (I'm Italian...sue me), and this can be problematic. Not one to eat a bite or two and move on, I need a plateful to satisfy the urge, the need, the fucking uncontrollable craving to eat. Why not add this to the list of fun and games during a time where weight shift and a creeping metabolism are at their peak? What I enjoy most about the way I attempt to control the hunger, drinking, is that the need to pee goes through the roof. And now, coughing, sneezing, or laughing are potential hazards. Outstanding! A lose/lose situation all the way around...and aren't they all during this phase of life?

Once again, I find myself at the end of another joyous share-fest about my favorite topic in the world. My sincere hope is that you've found some solace in knowing that you have a friend out there and she's as miserable as you are and can still laugh about it. So should you. Step back and just look at all this...we are all going through this and we are going to come out on the other end even stronger. How can I say this? My mom went through menopause at 40, right after her hysterectomy and I have her as my point of reference. What a fucking point of reference. Yes, I watched her mood swings, hot flashes, and other lovely symptoms play themselves out...sometimes at my expense. But ladies, this is where I can give you hope. When it was all over, and it does end, she was amazing and dare I say it, even more badass than before from the experience. What doesn't kill us makes us stronger. Damn straight it does. She was living proof, and with all of you as my witnesses, I will be, too. Don't doubt it for a minute that you'll join me. I don't. Are you friggin kidding me right now???


For more reading enjoyment on this topic:

The Perimenopause Expert is In

Why Perimenopause Sucks Moldy Balls

Perimenopause Still Sucks Moldy Balls, Four Years Later

Smart Answers to Dumb Questions About Perimenopause

The Perimenopause Expert is In

Of all the things in the world about which to have an abundance of personal knowledge, this is not the one I'd have chosen. But alas, here I am, at your service. Let me tell you, this roller coaster ride, aka Perimenopause has got to be the most jacked up ride at the amusement park otherwise known as life. I fucking hate roller coasters, always have, and at 44, that ain't bound to change. As a matter of fact, since I don't recall buying a ticket this time, I'd like someone to stop the ride like my dad did for me when I was five so I can get the fuck off! Who came up with this plan, this ridiculous design for the female human body? Definitely not a woman. Probably a 65 year old, Republican man. They still think they have rights to it, the uterus in particular, so I think my guess is spot on. Everyone ages, things slow down, some things stop althogether. Explain to me why women have to end their fertile years in such a dragged out and painful way. Are our bodies so complex that a simple cessation of fertility needs to affect every single other fucking part of our bodies? Seems cruel and inhumane...which points a finger right back at those twat waffle Republican men.

Belonging to some great groups on Facebook for women like myself, I have been reassured once again that I am not alone and we are all going through many of the same bullshit symptoms. Groups like Perimenopause Support and The Hot Flashers - A Perimenopause Support Group, provide a forum for those of us of a "certain age" to vent, chat, and ask pertinent questions without fear of judgement. This is precisely what we need...not only online, but in our personal lives. Sadly, many women do not have this kind of reinforcement from loved ones because they simply don't understand what they are going through and have been conditioned to believe that much of what women complain about is all in their heads. I call balls! Big, gigantic, low-swinging old man balls. This shit is as real as it gets and we wouldn't seem like Wendy Whiners if we could have a little more support from the medical community as well as from the rest of the goddamn world.

I'd like to address some of the symptoms I've seen flooding (now that's a word I hate more than anything) the perimenopause sites and see if we can't all feel a teeny bit better knowing that they are not only normal, but we are all experiencing them, too.

1.  Insomnia:  for those who sleep like corpses and have no idea what this is, I'll define it for you. This is when you absolutely cannot fall asleep and you lie there, mind racing, heart pounding, and fitfully tossing and turning while wishing you could put a pillow over the person next to you for sleeping so freaking soundly. There's nothing like not being able to sleep and suffering from one of the next symptoms that I will get to in just a minute, anxiety. Lying there while you can't turn your mind off, overthinking the entire day, stressing about tomorrow, pulse elevating to cardiac event levels, and possibly, only if you are one of the truly lucky, having a body-drenching night sweat. Man, I feel like a woman! I don't think that is what Shania Twain was referring to in her song, but she was young and inexperienced back then.

2.  Anxiety: while there are some of us fortunate enough to suffer from this disorder unrelated to perimenopause, anxiety can rear its ugly-ass head during these uber-fun years, throwing us a curve ball like no other. If you have never had an anxiety attack, fuck you. If you have, you know that having one feels like you just might die before it is over...and part of you wishes you would because the feeling is so horrid and scary that death seems the easier and more pleasant option. The most out of control you can possibly ever feel, accompanied by that fantastic heart racing I mentioned above, and a sweat more like a shower than a beading up on the forehead, anxiety attacks are just another lovely side effect of the perimenopause "journey" as some assholes like to call it. Luckily, there are excellent drugs for this one and we can bitch slap them out of the picture. Zoloft, I love you.

3.  Heart Palpitations:  this is a strange and fucked up feeling, and if you've never experienced one, you likely won't be able to understand it. Even if you asked a doctor or your grandpa, you still couldn't fully grasp this unless and until you have one of your very own. I didn't start having them until I started having anxiety attacks, but now I am overjoyed to share that I can have one completely unrelated and not connected to anxiety. Yay, me! The only way I can describe them is, if you can imagine your heart being a person, and then envision it deciding to run, then stop dead, then skip, then run again, then walk, then skip again, stopping dead once more...and, well, you get the picture. Another glorious out-of-control feeling that women have the joy of enduring during these exciting years leading to menopause...another fucking nightmare.

4.  Exhaustion:  even without having insomnia, even with a full night's sleep and a cup of coffee in hand, we can feel as though we've been up for a week running on a hamster wheel. The worst part, for me, is waking up feeling this way. Feeling like I haven't slept a wink, even though my Fitbit would disagree, and having to get out of bed and get ready for a long day at work, O...M...F...G, it is so painful. Yet, I do it and so do you ladies, whom I now consider my friends. We haul our asses up and out of bed, jump in the shower in the hopes that the water beating down on us will rouse us from that fogged and bogged down feeling...and it doesn't. Tromping down the stairs, dressed but certainly not ready for the public, we grab our first cup of joe and pray. Yet, that does nothing, either. And so the day goes. Fake it till you make it, but you never really do. Repeat again tomorrow.

5.  Painful Periods:  not just cramps, but they do factor in to the pain we now enjoy during our crime scene periods. I never had cramps when I was younger, and yes, I am aware that my fibroid bouncy house has something to do with it, but the ones I have now are mind-blowing. Stabbing pains alternating with dull aches, oh the thrill ride I go on every month is fantastic! What I have also noticed, and I see many of you have noticed, are pains that radiate right down into the va-jay-jay, vazheen, nether yea ya, or whatever name you choose to call your cooch. Holy mother of all that is good, this is very unexepected and quite unwelcome. More common during what I now call a blood burst, or when Aunt Flo decides she wants to expel gigantic moose clots in a flood of blood violently out of your cha cha. It's bad enough you may require crime scene tape, does it have to hurt like a fucker, too? Uncool, Mother Nature, very uncool.

6.  Spotting: all I can say is WHAT THE FUCK?! It leads up to the period, happens at the end, can occur throughout the month...how the hell can you possibly prepare for and accomodate this? More annoying still, is how can you dress for this? I am not a panty liner girl, so this option does not work for me in the slightest. After wearing a mattress between my legs for 8 or 9 days accompanied by a paper towel roll up my hoo ha, there's no way I want another rash-inducing cotton object down there for any length of time. Yet, I never know when my uterus will choose to notice there's a bit of old blood up in there and feel the need to share it with me and my underwear. It's gross and frankly it smells bad. I've actually worn a lite tampon on a day such as that to avoid a disgusting panty liner. Uterus, hear me now, I will not be held hostage by you, bitch.

7.  Migraines:  mine haven't always been cyclical, and as a matter of fact, I actually started getting them at 23, right after my mom died. But now, they are most definitely cyclical and due to the hormonal swinging that occurs throughout the month. Many of us at this season of life are estrogen dominant and she is not your friend. Everyone associates estrogen with femininity but she is such a cunt biscuit! When you have too much, she kicks you right where it hurts and when you least expect it. As she dips, right before your blood flood, a eye shattering migraine can occur. In the Huffington Post article Migraines: What's Estrogen Got To Do With It?, estrogen swings are discussed as one of the migraine triggers during perimenopause and gives some possible ideas to discuss with your medical practicioner for relief. I say, bring on full menopause, that's the relief I seek!

8. Weight Shift:  I wanted to discuss this and bloating in rapid succession since they are in the same unappealing category in my eyes. As we approach that "certain age" our weight may or may not fluctuate, but where it sits will. Yes, I've gained some perimenopausal poundage over the years, and yes, I still have that love affair with food ongoing. But, what I have noticed, is that my weight, even when at a decent number, doesn't always allow me to wear the same size in clothing anymore! Why? Because, Mother Nature in all her bitchy glory, has chosen this time of life to actually move fat around my body and drop it into the most unattractive places. Instead of curves, I have fucking lumps! Lumps on my ass, hips, and thighs that I swear to Christ, I've never had even at my fattest. Where in the name of Christ in a crossover did they come from and how can I get rid of them? We are all asking this very same question and I apologize ahead of time for not having a clue what to tell you. When I figure it out, you'll be the first to know.

9.  Bloating:  I understand water retention before a period and during. Once, while doing the Weight Watchers thing, I retained 8 pounds of water during one particularly fun period. Luckily, the WW person weighing me knew to explain it right away before I started shanking everyone in sight. What I don't undertand is the random bloats throughout the month. Why should I, midcycle, suddenly have a pooch that can only be compared to a beer belly? Fortunately, I can usually pee this out if I drink enough, but there are times this isn't possible and I look godawful. We all know that I hate muffin top and have said that women should wear clothes that fit to avoid it. How can I say this when I can suddenly have it in pants that fit properly just yesterday? Frustrating as fuck and totally unfair...what is the male equivalent of this? Oh, right...nothing!

10. Vertigo: Sweet and soft newborn baby Jesus, I cannot stand the feeling of being dizzy. After a horrifying bout of labyrinthitis that made me feel like I was on a spinning boat all day and night for two weeks, I can assuredly tell you that this symptom is more than unwelcome...if it were a person, I'd rip its heart out through its mouth with my bare hands. Yet, lo and behold, it is another symptom of perimenopause. For fuck's sake, is this necessary? And tell me how this is and should be connected to the cessation of fertility? It's a nauseating and unsettling feeling at best, and a scary and crippling feeling at its worst. Imagine going about your day and suddenly, completely out of nowhere, you feel like the room has started swaying and you cannot maintain your balance to save your life. Fortunately, I have Meclizine by the dozens left from my aforementioned visit to labyrinthitis and can pop one every 4-6 when this symptom decides to come a-calling. You may want to ask your MD for some of this bottled magic.

Thankfully, we have each other and groups like Perimenopause Hell and Perimenopause - Thriving and Surviving to make us feel like we are part of something totally normal and have partners in this shitstorm segment of life. Sadly, there are even more fucking symptoms that I still haven't talked about and I know you are experiencing and wondering why I haven't mentioned them. Don't worry, in my next entry, I will discuss them at length.  I want you to know that  I am going through this with you and will continue to do so until I reach the finish line that is menopause. We are in this together, every last crappy symptom, every annoying ache and pain, every oddball bodily occurrence. Would I abandon you at this point? Are you friggin kidding me right now???


If you'd like to read more about one of my favorite topics, check out these entries:

Why Perimenopause Sucks Moldy Balls
Perimenopause Still Sucks Moldy Balls, Four Years Later
Smart Answers to Dumb Questions About Perimenopause

Anti-Vaxxers: Stop Using the Internet to Defend Your Decision

Only a fool would believe everything they read. Yet, this is what I see happening every day. People sharing proof that their way is the right way or worse, the only way to do things. How incredibly fucking stupid can you be? If there were only one way to do things, how would we have modern technology, modern medicine, and cuter clothing each season? Exactly. We wouldn't because no one would explore new venues, new techniques, new ideas. Why bother? You think you have it all sewn up, neatly packaged with your genius reasoning as researched by you. To whom do I refer? All of you fucking anti-vaxxers let loose on the social media warpath! You've decided that your way is the right way and instead of letting the rest of the world make their own educated decisions, you feel it necessary to hound the shit out of us with your incessant "proof" that your way is the only way to raise a healthy child. I call bullshit. Why? Because I don't let the Internet rule my world. I'm not stupid enough to take everything I read as gospel truth.

Let's take note of how anti-vaxxers like to tell those of us who do vaccinate our children that we are killing them, making them retarded and autistic, and basically endangering the lives of the people most important to us. That's right! You share articles you find on the Internet. Must be true, it's on the fucking Internet, for Christ's sake! How did we even function before Google? How did we do research on a subject that interests us? How did we learn anything new? Anyone remember a place called a library? You know, that building with rows and stacks of books? Those cute little drawers called card catalogs that helped you find the books you were looking for in those stacks? OMG, does any remember microfilm and microfiche? Can I get a shout out for scholarly articles? Yeah, we don't use those anymore. We prefer to find our information online on sites run by people making fat cash by allowing people with no expertise, much less real credentials proving such, to publish their "findings" on every topic under the fucking sun.

There was a man who set out to prove that anyone could publish a "scholarly" report online and have people take it as factual and true. In Why A Journalist Scammed The Media Into Spreading Bad Chocolate Science, John Bohannon was able to publish his fake findings about chocolate being instrumental in significant weight loss in a pay for play journal called the International Archives of Medicine, which to people like you and I, sounds very official and trustworthy. How does this happen? How can someone just publish blatant lies? Because many publications you find on the Internet are not authentic or verified sources. These so-called scholarly journals are simply venues for jackasses with asinine opinions to get their word out to idiots who believe shit they read on the Internet. Pay a $500 fee and get your bullshit published! Mark Shrime, a medical researcher at Harvard, set out to prove that you can publish just about anything for a fee, and did so in Why A Fake Article Titled "Cuckoo For Cocoa Puffs?" Was Accepted By 17 Medical Journals. Yet, there are some who use their computers exclusively to determine what is safe for their children. Are you fucking high?

When is the last time we heard an anti-vaxxer say they sat down with their child's pediatrician and discussed the pros and cons of vaccinations? When have any of us heard them say that their child's doctor said, without hesitation, that they shouldn't immunize because their kid will become autistic? Do we actually think these disorders only started happening in our children's lifetime and that they are caused by vaccinations? Jesus in a fucking jumpsuit! What we used to call a hyper brat now has a proper medical name, ADHD. Kids who used to just "not listen" to their parents, now have Auditory Processing Disorder. And so on and so forth. So, since we can now diagnose these children properly, we can thank modern medicine for its tireless research and work towards helping our children. The same goes for vaccinations.

Many of our parents would not have been around to facilitate our existence without vaccines. Think about the diseases that were prevented back then. Small pox, whooping cough, diphtheria, typhoid, TB, and tetanus...all were prevented back in our parents' childhood. Fortunately for us, the next set of vaccines came out when we were kids. Measles, mumps, rubella, and polio...all rendered not dangerous to us. And now our children can and will benefit from the protection that is being offered to them in the form of Hepatitis A and B vaccines, Meningitis vaccines for those about to live in a college dorm where the disease becomes a serious risk and can be fatal, HPV...the one everyone is up in arms about, the one that not only prevents the HPV virus, but also by virtue of that can assist in preventing cervical cancer in our daughters. You are goddamn right I want to protect her from possible cancer! As I watch my favorite aunt's battle with ovarian cancer, I am constantly grateful for the ability to prevent my daughter from dealing with a similar struggle later on in her life.

Once again, I reference the ridiculous articles that claim these vaccines are killing children. Yet, has anyone seen actual laboratory proof? Where's the medical research that unequivocally deems these vaccines are the sole cause of the tragic deaths of young children? If I didn't die, and you didn't die, and all of our contemporaries didn't die from our vaccines...and those of us with older children didn't have issues with vaccines beyond fevers, redness, and soreness at the vaccination site...then what the fuck are you trying to say? You prove nothing. Yet, I can prove that the lack of herd immunity is starting to bring back diseases that were long eradicated during the era where people actually listened to doctors and vaccinated their children. Not only are these diseases making a return, but they are actually killing people as is painfully clear in Spanish Boy Dies of Diphtheria. Measles outbreak numbers are absolutely startling as is evidenced in CDC Measles Outbreaks in 2015. Scary, isn't it? Herd immunity is what keeps us safe, keeps us alive.

Because of herd immunity, you and I are here to have this argument. Without it, you might have died years ago from an entirely preventable disease. Yet, today you stand in opposition to the very reason you are alive to fight against medical advances in immunizations. They exist to keep us alive longer and stronger. Telling me that vaccines are made in a "disgusting" way by posting crap like this, 7 Most Disgusting Ingredients Used to Make Vaccines, only proves to me you didn't do very well in science. Making drugs, developing new cells, growing what will become life saving drugs in labs require a little thing called a host. These items serve that purpose, so keep the juvenile ewwwww to yourself.  To believe that "big pharma" is out to kill us is patently ridiculous. If we die younger and younger, who will take the drugs they make to ease our pain, cure our curable diseases, manage our chronic diseases, and eliminate the bacterial diseases that require their special brand of drugs to kill? Who will keep them in business if they are a one shot (no pun intended) deal? Your argument is fatally flawed. They want to keep us around for as long as possible, as we get older and more frail...and more in need of the relief only they can provide. Killing children is definitely not high on their to-do list. No real money in that. Trust me, I am aware of their money hungry nature and would not deny that their priority is making making more. But how can they do that if we aren't around to pay for their products?

Instead of walking around with your head up your ass, try thinking for yourself. I know that's what you think you are doing now, but face it, does believing everything you read without checking and double checking your sources make you any smarter than the asshole who paid $500 to publish what is basically their opinion? Does surrounding yourself with people who share your underinformed opinion make you any more right than those who don't share your beliefs? Keeping everyone's children safe is our job. When you choose to exclude your child from engaging in a preventative method of protection, you endanger the lives of other people's children who are innocent bystanders to your fight against "the man" and that totally sucks. Oh, and a child can carry a disease without ever manifesting it in its visible form. We all carry germs, some we transmit to others and some we don't. But if you can stop your kid from carrying something potentially deadly and spreading it to my kid, I expect you to do so. If I didn't look hideous in orange, I'd come over there and explain it to you in further detail with a shiv. Are you friggin kidding me right now???