Getting to Know Me

Don’t think because I am a middle-aged-ish, married-ish, person who gave birth to three human children that this is going to be about childrearing, or recipes, or the hilarious topic of menopause.  (Some of my friends who have reached this milestone seem to have lost their senses of humor when it comes to this.)  Be warned: If you think that’s what this blog is going to be about, you’d best take your recipe-searching, childrearing-advice-wanting, menopause-remedy-seeking eyes elsewhere. NO RECIPES!  NO MOMMY-BLOG!  Get it?  As for menopause…menopause deserves a good ass-kicking, that’s what.

On second thought, today’s blog WILL BE about menopause. BECAUSE I AM GOING TO KICK MENOPAUSE’S ASS! Menopause is not such a big deal. Somebody just needs to teach it a lesson and make it cry and whimper for its mommy. YOU HEAR ME MENOPAUSE? I am coming for you! Let’s do this!

Why the change of heart, you ask?  She seems so hostile, you’re thinking, what’s wrong with her? Hormones, that’s what—they are running amok inside my body, invading my brain and making me think crazy thoughts like, how I would like to do a revival of that play, “Menopause: The Musical,” except I would call it, “Menopause: The Ass-Kicking.” And I would pay good money to see that.

Whenever I start to feel all crazy-ass over menopause, I just stop and think and try to convince myself that all these symptoms are purely psychological, just like the hysteria over the economy. It could be all in our heads. We are told that we are going to feel bad, so we do. All this negative energy is what is causing women to completely lose their shit over this overrated change of life situation. So just get it together, OK girls? Think positive. Also get out there and buy some stock and save the economy.  (Avoid AIG.)

I know I promised I would offer no remedies for ameliorating the symptoms of menopause, but since I have already broken my promise about not discussing this topic, I’d say we can let this one go, too. There are some homeopathic remedies out there. None of which I’d recommend. While some advocate the ingestion—one assumes—of potions brewed with some of the most evil-sounding components I’ve ever heard of—St. John’s wort and black cohosh (cohosh sounds bad enough; it has to be black, too?)—some of these tips were even pushing chocolate as the cure-all to any menopause-related ills. Ridiculous! Everyone knows five or six glasses of wine and a fistful of Vicodins are the answer to anything sad or painful. My recommendation on the type of wine you choose depends on what effect you wish to achieve with it. White wine—chiefly pinot grigio—is second only to Effexor in its mood-elevating abilities. Or you can choose red wine if you wish to let the sweet darkness envelop you (i.e., sleep).

I realize this post’s title is somewhat inaccurate. You did not learn much about me today, except how I feel about a certain phase of life all women go through. I’ll try to do better next time. Perhaps I should come up with some sort of mission statement for my blog. But aside from kicking menopause’s ass, I have been unable to come up with one.

I’m working on it, though.

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