Friday, March 25, 2011


That's right.  I'm hot.  Very hot.  And no, I'm not referencing my new hot bod.

I'm referring to my internal temperature.  I look like I just stepped out of the sauna – hair frizzed out, sweat bubbles on my nose.  If this is a preview of what hot flashes during menopause might be like, God help us all.  Frankly, it’s only March (border-line April), and my chances of surviving May and June are null -- I might erupt.

A friend prompted me with an email this morning inquiring about my clothing size.  In the midst of a hot flash, you wanna talk about my size?  And my clothes?  Fasten your seatbelt, Missy!  What were once my baggy, droopy-ass jeans…they barely made it around my healthy new ghetto booty this morning.  Good bye XS and hello XL – I’ll be seeing you soon!

I got to thinking I'm really getting frustrated with the lack of reasonably priced, stylish maternity clothes.  Seriously!  I've pretty much given up on finding regular clothes to fit my hot bod.  But that leaves me with a terrible fate -- shopping only in the [cue dramatic music] maternity sections.  Bleh!  Sorry, but those stores make fun of us…with their floral prints, empire waists, shirts that tie into a bow in the back, pastels, bedazzled goofy sayings across the tummy (i.e. "Rub My Belly for Good Luck", “Knocked Up” – no shit, Sherlock!), tents, tie-dye, head-to-toe corduroy, denim, velour, etc. 

Suddenly, I feel bad for my rant.  Well sorta.  The world is full of tragedy — always, actually, though seemingly moreso right now — but it doesn’t mean that if you personally didn’t lose your home, family, and pet chinchilla in a tsunami that your struggles don’t matter or somehow aren’t hard.  I mean, sure, if someone is sitting there moaning about their hangnail, I get how that might be kind of trying.  All in all, there is no honor and glory in that which sucks.  Period.

All I am really doing is saying, “Hey, I’m finding my particular battle hard today.”  So if you’re my friend, I would hope that would be okay with you.  If not, just ignore me – wash your cat or take a call or whatever.  I get it.  Whatever you do, don’t remind me that other people have real problems, way worse than mine.  It’s code for “you are not entitled to your feelings, and P.S. I’m a better person than you.”  It doesn’t help.  It’s more honest to just kick someone when they’re down, frankly.  Then you could throw your arms in the air and scream “VICTORY!” and feel as superior as you want, right out in the open!

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