DIARY OF AN URBAN MILKMAID


PROFILE GUESTBOOK OLD OLDER OLDEST
The things that happen to the body as we age are fascinating.

Take this peri-menopause for instance (young whipper-snappers should take particular interest - this WILL happen to them some day...)

It's like puberty - only in reverse. The ovaries start to get real spastic in their approach to throwing out eggs each cycle. The glands cough and sputter their hormones into the system. For a while, the estrogen pours out. The body responds with large, Pamela Anderson sized boobies, and backaches from so much fluid retention and puffy uterus. Along side that - no "auntie flo" for days, weeks - sometimes months. Weepiness ensues. Intermittant attacks of volcanic heat, from time to time, which cause others, men in particular, to inquire as to why your face is suddenly so red. You tell them you are having a hot flash, and they, (men) don't speak to you again for quite some time. Loss of sleep makes you cranky, tired and depressed.

After a time, your glands get the idea that a little Progesterone is in order. Ahhhh. Zits abound on otherwise dry skin. "Auntie" arrives with gusto. In fact, she refuses to LEAVE. You, however, feel wonderful, full of life and able for the first time in ages to appreciate the world around you once again. Until, of course, you become so weak and anemic, you believe a transfusion might be in your future...

Is it any wonder, that more women don't go nuts, run off, leaving their poor husbands and families behind?

I'm not big on hormone replacement therapy for myself. I may change my mind later on. However, ingesting the urine from a pregnant horse (that's what it is, ladies) does not seem like a very good idea to me. Plus, I have always had an overwhelming fear of breast cancer. I'm so phobic about it, that any time I catch myself enjoying looking at them (especially when they are Pammy sized, and I prance in front of the bathroom mirror like one of those strippers on G-String Divas), I always end up picturing some gastly tumor growing inside one of them. Maybe it was all those made for TV movies that got my hypochondriacal self going. I don't think I would be able to make myself swallow something I thought was going to kill me.

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No bird sightings yet this weekend. It is so summer-like. Warm and beatutiful. I should mosey outside and get some vitamin D, or whatever it is that sunshine gives us. Stave off the osteoporosis a bit.

SLAY ON BUFFY!!



January 12, 2002

Buh Bye!
October 05, 2008

Be Afraid, People.... Really Afraid
September 01, 2008

One Last Bitchfest for the Road
August 24, 2008

Get the Popcorn Ready
July 17, 2008

I'm a Rich Ho-Bag
June 20, 2008



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Marriage is love.

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