The 70's. Man, no better time in my life than the 70's. I will never get over that decade. The classic rock, the 8-track tapes, the cassettes, and, actually, the big record albums, We loved playing The Carpenters and singing it in the kitchen as if we were stars, my sisters and I. And the best part, the bell bottoms! What great memories.
It occurred to me that I don't have to give them up. Nope. At first, I began to dream of making my own bell bottom jeans. I would make the waist with today's style......nobody want to go back to the full high-waist bell bottoms. In the 70's, before I had kids, my body was young, tight, firm and the high waist was ok. Besides we didn't know any better. But now.......NO WAY. High waist would just make my middle-aged belly look six months pregnant. So I envisioned a retro/modern bell bottom jean.
Next, it occurred to me that there might just be bell bottoms out there. So the search began. After some digging, I found them! True to the 70's, hail to the 21st century, bell bottom jeans with today's waist. My mouse did not hesitate as I scoured the site and picked out a couple different pair and bought them. And the wait began.
The reason in the first place I wanted bell bottom jeans is because my husband and I are going to the KANSAS concert soon. Oh I love them. This is one group I possessed the 8-track tape for and wish I still did. Kansas. In person! Who wants to show up to a 70's band concert without bell bottom jeans! Not me!
Yesterday they arrived. The size chart was different and I ordered a size that I have never worn. However, I will not elaborate. Let's just say, I am NOT the actual size these pants came in. So I have been riddled with worry about the pants not fitting and not having time to return and order a different size before the concert.
While excitedly opening the package I asked my husband if there was anything in the pile of mail that would deflate my happiness over the bell bottoms. "Yes" he flatly stated. I knew it. Round 3 with the IRS about to commence. Them wanting money that is not theirs. Grrrrrrrr.....however, I was still ecstatic about my pants.
Taking my new pants into the bedroom i tried on a pair. YOWSA. They fit! Maybe a little loosely, however, I will take loose over tight pants any day. No camel toe allowed! I pranced into the living room and showed my Honey. He smiled....not sure if it was a smile of approval or ridiculousness. I didn't care. I loved them and that is all that mattered. Personally, I think he secretly wonders if I am a nut case anyway. I don't care about that either. I am who I am.
The second pair fit even better and I adoringly pointed out to him how the bell bottoms completely covered my feet.....and then some! Just like in the old days. Oh, this second pair is heaven. Dragging the ground like they should. Anything off the ground was considered "floods" back in my day and only those labeled "geeks" wore floods.
Not really caring about the answer, I asked my Honey if he would be embarrassed to be seen with me at the concert in these pants. He chuckled and affirmatively said, "No". That made this even better. My excitement was not going to quell. I washed those buggers and dried them right away.
Today, I wore them to the office. Like a nut, I proudly pranced my bell bottom clad body around the entire office saying, "Anyone want to meet the 1970's?" Ha ha............wondering what they think,.......yes....caring...no. Ell no! I am one happy bell bottom breezy groovy chic today!
Wednesday, July 13, 2016
Saturday, June 25, 2016
BLADDER UP!
Today I was shopping in a cute little store and began engaging in conversation with cute little college girl. Before I knew it I was telling her about the horrors of aging, and that I planned to put the truth about what happens, in my blog. She asked for the blog name. So far, I have not given this information to anyone at all. I created a public Facebook account under my author pen name and posted this blog info on it. Since I really do not know this girl I decided to give it to her with the promise she won't tell anyone it is me. So here goes.
A few years ago I was working in a career that is highly physical, requiring heavy lifting and a lot of walking and standing. During this time I was also enjoying regular Brazilian Waxes. Ahhhhhhh..they are fantastic and worth the reasonable, quick pain, and embarrassment. I got busy and missed one or two, therefore, I was shaving what I could reach and attempted to shave "down under" if you know what I mean.
With one foot on the toilet, a mirror in one hand, the razor in the other, I began to attempt this difficult task. Honing the mirror into the correct position, My hoo haw "down under" was in full plain view. We have all looked at our hoo haws before (don't you deny it) so I knew something was wrong. Very wrong. I took a closer look and gasped out loud. I may even have swore. What I saw put me in mild shock. There was a creamy white, pink veined, "ball" right inside my vagina. Between horror and curiosity, the curiosity won and I touched it. Nothing. No feeling at all. Knowing that I gave up my uterus at age 28, I knew this was not it. I put the mirror down and abandoned the shaving project.
I hurried into the bedroom and cried out loud to my my husband, "my bladder is falling out!
Look, LOOK!"
This got his attention and he said, "What?".......
.I laid on the bed, opened my legs and demanded he look.
"Look! It is right there. Right inside my hoo haw peeking out. Like a baby crowning, but it's not a baby!"
Detecting the panic in my voice, he looked. "Closer!" I demanded. He got closer, looked intently, and peeked out from between my legs and said, "I'm sorry I don't see anything".
"Get the mirror! Let me see!"
He got the mirror and gave it to me. We did my best to position the mirror so I could see my hoo haw while laying down. He was right. It was gone.
Confused, I went back to the bathroom, mirror in hand, and looked while standing up, again. Being more aware of the feeling inside my hoo haw, I did feel a sort of "shift" of something I had never felt before. It was very subtle, but definitely movement. Taking another look, I already knew what I was going to see. And as sure as the sky is blue, there it was, my bladder, hanging just inside my hoo haw.
At this point I began racking my brain about what I had been feeling to ascertain if I had any symptoms of my bladder falling. The only thing I could remember, is that for about a year, sex had become a little painful. I giggled at the hilarity of it. My husband has been banging my bladder all this time. Tough little body part!
Sitting in the doctors office I knew this meant surgery. The doctor examined me and asked me questions.
"Have you had any breakthrough peeing"? "Do you smoke"? I shook my head "no" to both of these. "Do you do heavy lifting"? BINGO I nodded. "Have you or are you in menopause"? Again, I nodded. The doctor wrote some things down and told me he is very surprised that I have not been peeing my pants. Apparently, his examination determined my bladder had fallen 85% out of place. "You should be peeing your pants" he stated. This was concerning to him so he insisted I see the urologist. He was going to have to have the urologist in on the surgery to put my bladder back where it goes anyway.
The urologist found out why I had not been peeing my pants. My bladder had fallen into my hoo haw and the ureter (the hose that go from the kidneys to the bladder) had kinked, preventing the urine flow into bladder. SCARY. No wonder my urine stream had been lessened. Hmmmm........
Surgery was scheduled a couple weeks away. One night during this time, I began to vomit violently. I could not stop vomiting. After sitting by the toilet for several hours we decided I should go to the emergency room. They gave me meds to stop vomiting and one of them was Phenergan. Little did I know, this caused severe Restless Leg Syndrome. By this time I was very familiar with the feeling of my bladder retreating up when I laid down and my bladder falling into my hoo haw when I sat or stood up. It was sickening.
Needless to say it was a rough night. My restless legs wanted to go jogging. My body and head wanted to sleep. My legs won. I laid there trying to resist the urge to do bicycle movements with my legs. I couldn't......I began a series of laying down and doing bicycle movements, then sitting up to look at my legs, willing them to be still. This up and down series lasted hours. Unfortunately, every time I laid down I felt my bladder retreat, and sitting up my bladder falling in. Up, down, in, out. Up, down, in, out. Up, down, in, out, ALL NIGHT LONG. Inside myself I realized the hilarity of this situation if I was not so miserable. I vowed to someday tell this story because you will never hear it anywhere else.
Stay tuned for the hoo haw surgery story to follow.
A few years ago I was working in a career that is highly physical, requiring heavy lifting and a lot of walking and standing. During this time I was also enjoying regular Brazilian Waxes. Ahhhhhhh..they are fantastic and worth the reasonable, quick pain, and embarrassment. I got busy and missed one or two, therefore, I was shaving what I could reach and attempted to shave "down under" if you know what I mean.
With one foot on the toilet, a mirror in one hand, the razor in the other, I began to attempt this difficult task. Honing the mirror into the correct position, My hoo haw "down under" was in full plain view. We have all looked at our hoo haws before (don't you deny it) so I knew something was wrong. Very wrong. I took a closer look and gasped out loud. I may even have swore. What I saw put me in mild shock. There was a creamy white, pink veined, "ball" right inside my vagina. Between horror and curiosity, the curiosity won and I touched it. Nothing. No feeling at all. Knowing that I gave up my uterus at age 28, I knew this was not it. I put the mirror down and abandoned the shaving project.
I hurried into the bedroom and cried out loud to my my husband, "my bladder is falling out!
Look, LOOK!"
This got his attention and he said, "What?".......
.I laid on the bed, opened my legs and demanded he look.
"Look! It is right there. Right inside my hoo haw peeking out. Like a baby crowning, but it's not a baby!"
Detecting the panic in my voice, he looked. "Closer!" I demanded. He got closer, looked intently, and peeked out from between my legs and said, "I'm sorry I don't see anything".
"Get the mirror! Let me see!"
He got the mirror and gave it to me. We did my best to position the mirror so I could see my hoo haw while laying down. He was right. It was gone.
Confused, I went back to the bathroom, mirror in hand, and looked while standing up, again. Being more aware of the feeling inside my hoo haw, I did feel a sort of "shift" of something I had never felt before. It was very subtle, but definitely movement. Taking another look, I already knew what I was going to see. And as sure as the sky is blue, there it was, my bladder, hanging just inside my hoo haw.
At this point I began racking my brain about what I had been feeling to ascertain if I had any symptoms of my bladder falling. The only thing I could remember, is that for about a year, sex had become a little painful. I giggled at the hilarity of it. My husband has been banging my bladder all this time. Tough little body part!
Sitting in the doctors office I knew this meant surgery. The doctor examined me and asked me questions.
"Have you had any breakthrough peeing"? "Do you smoke"? I shook my head "no" to both of these. "Do you do heavy lifting"? BINGO I nodded. "Have you or are you in menopause"? Again, I nodded. The doctor wrote some things down and told me he is very surprised that I have not been peeing my pants. Apparently, his examination determined my bladder had fallen 85% out of place. "You should be peeing your pants" he stated. This was concerning to him so he insisted I see the urologist. He was going to have to have the urologist in on the surgery to put my bladder back where it goes anyway.
The urologist found out why I had not been peeing my pants. My bladder had fallen into my hoo haw and the ureter (the hose that go from the kidneys to the bladder) had kinked, preventing the urine flow into bladder. SCARY. No wonder my urine stream had been lessened. Hmmmm........
Surgery was scheduled a couple weeks away. One night during this time, I began to vomit violently. I could not stop vomiting. After sitting by the toilet for several hours we decided I should go to the emergency room. They gave me meds to stop vomiting and one of them was Phenergan. Little did I know, this caused severe Restless Leg Syndrome. By this time I was very familiar with the feeling of my bladder retreating up when I laid down and my bladder falling into my hoo haw when I sat or stood up. It was sickening.
Needless to say it was a rough night. My restless legs wanted to go jogging. My body and head wanted to sleep. My legs won. I laid there trying to resist the urge to do bicycle movements with my legs. I couldn't......I began a series of laying down and doing bicycle movements, then sitting up to look at my legs, willing them to be still. This up and down series lasted hours. Unfortunately, every time I laid down I felt my bladder retreat, and sitting up my bladder falling in. Up, down, in, out. Up, down, in, out. Up, down, in, out, ALL NIGHT LONG. Inside myself I realized the hilarity of this situation if I was not so miserable. I vowed to someday tell this story because you will never hear it anywhere else.
Stay tuned for the hoo haw surgery story to follow.
Thursday, June 16, 2016
CELEBRITY BRATS
Today I was reading the news and saw an article, supposedly, featuring Heather Locklear and Richie Sambora. Darling, talented people. The article was not about them, sadly. It was about their daughter. I began to seethe so I don't remember her name. Not important. Apparently, she is a model. Go figure. Hypothetically, take this same girl, subtract the famous parents, add her as a "nobody" and the result will not be that she is a model. Or even news worthy.
Why do brats of celebrities automatically get a "get in free" card to be famous? Do they have the same talents as their parents? Obviously not. Do they have good looks? Not always. The point is...it doesn't matter! The children of famous, rich, celebrities are growing like mold in the industry!
There are a few cases, in which, these "children" don't even have to work to have the paparazzi taking pictures of them picking their noses. I am sure the same "few" come to your mind as well....like Paris Hilton that can sit with a little doggy and have photo shoots because mummy and daddy are filthy rich. Give me a break. We don't give two hoots about your life! You brats are infiltrating my beloved t.v.
Another that may come to mind is a crew of no-talent-never-worked-never-broke-a-nail brats that are a package deal, because, apparently, nobody can just read about one. The Kartrashians, ooooops, I stand corrected, The Kardashians. Remind me what any of you did to EARN being famous and rich! We don't care who you are dating, married, had babies with, where you took them to be baptized, or what you think of your daddy, errrrr.....mummy?
There are a slim number of somewhat talented actors and actresses that, yes, did ride on the fame coat-tail of their parents. Sometimes I can even bear to watch them. How I get through it is quite interesting. While watching the "mini-me" of whatever actor/actress they came from, I go back in my mind and think of how hard it was for mummy or daddy to break into the business. The slamming of doors, the calls of rejection they probably suffered, before "being discovered" by a sharp movie executive. It takes me back to a simpler time, I suppose, is what it boils down to.
Regardless who they are, how they got there, my message to all celebrity brats that have never had to wipe their own hiney, "Shame on you"! My respect and admiration will always go to those that fought the fight, that were discovered because of their very own talent, hard work, and determination.
Wednesday, June 15, 2016
MY KALEIDOSCOPE
As a kid, we all had a kaleidoscope, at one time or another. It would create all the oooo's and aaaahhhh's of what YOU created by simply rotating the viewer.
This is exactly how I perceive life. Life goes on all around us and we all see it differently. My siblings and I can recall certain events in which we were all present, however, we all have a different story about the same event. This is the kaleidoscope view.
There are days I need, and want, to share the kaleidoscope in my head. It would be a cleansing effect, I think, for everyone to see, what I perceive. So this is the beginning of a kaleidoscope ride for all the world to see. Stay tuned!
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