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Archive for the ‘The TMI Chronicles’ Category

~Wrinkly old ball sacs…do men’s ball sacs wrinkle as they age?

little nut bag~

Is there a surgical procedure to rejuvenate a man’s precious jewel holder….that wrinkled kinky haired scrotum, nut bag, jewel pouch?

Do women leave their old wrinkled ball sac men for younger smoother scrotes?

How do men handle the loss of luster to their ball sac?

As previously mentioned here or there or somewhere along the way, I’ve set new standards in my quest for a new man…in case you missed that list, here goes…in no particular order….breathing-but barely, old-near death preferably, loaded-with dough, not shit, no heirs….

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can't wait 2 ditch this~

Without realizing it…I sat down on the couch without my walker…woohoo…typically I drag the damn thing around when I don’t feel steady on my feet and I also need it to assist myself as I get up from where I’m seated…usually the pot (sorry TMI) or the couch. I also hold on to it as I try to get myself situated…well I didn’t realize I had done so until I went to get up…but I managed to get myself up…I won’t go into embarrasing detail as to how I accomplished that, instead I prefer to glow from the excitement I experienced at being able to do what I did without it. A small victory but a victory nonetheless. Yay me!!

Finished reading a book that had me in tears, the topics of abuse and betrayal lightly intermingled with that other subject (love) I hate reading about…sadly the parralells to some of  my experiences were there, vividly. I am no longer amazed at the capacity for hurt people are able to inflict on others, be it a child or an adult. Bad people are everywhere. I hate bad people.

 

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So I shared a wonderful image of what my legs look like expecting others would share that the mental image they were left with would cause them to throw up in their mouth like I do when I see my once fabulously hairless legs….instead I was treated to confirmation that I am not the only North American She Beast lumbering around…that is sweet awesomeness. Gives me great pause to embrace the hotitudeness I used to have. So now I am all for sharing my pits…well not mine exactly but something to give you an idea of the beastliness of my other nether regions…yes my pits are part of my nether regions.

I'm not quite as beastly as this~ yet...

On to other randomness….the topic of dating has been tossed around….this after seeing advertisements on the telly for senior dating…so I say to my kids…”What about cripple dating?” So then I proceed to try and do some research and I find that what I thought was a brilliant idea that maybe I could execute was already executed. Fuck! All the good ideas are taken…which means that at this rate I will not become the next dotcom millionairess. Just this morning I happened upon another article about cripple dating…more like a gathering place for chronic illness, focused more on IBS and Crohn’s…and cancer survivors….I don’t fit that criteria…so then maybe I should look into a different type of cripple dating website….but I have no clue yet where to begin….I will ponder this brilliance some more….and for the record, I personally am not interested in dating…I cannot afford to go out on a date….

I need a name for my imaginary dating website, ideas welcome!

More randomness…I spoke to my youngest bro the other day…was it yesterday…nah…I think it was the day before…anyhoo we talked about our egg donor (that would be what most peeps & peepettes call a MOM) and lo & behold my phone rings and there she is….like her ears must have been burning…so yeah she related all her illnesses and aches and pains and struggles and whatnot then she thought to ask “how are you?” but before I could reply she offered up the phone to her sister….so typical and funny….so bro if you are reading this…it is your fault she called.

Even more randomness….I am currently reading a book that at the center of its theme is a topic I am not very fond of….but because I am not as afraid as others think I am about this particular subject I am reading it….and it does serve to remind me why that subject is such a sore sticking matter better not discussed by the likes of me….but I am near the end with only 200+ pages left to go…I will continue paging thru it….

and my randomness for today has come to an end….enjoy your day.

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I grew up with a mother that never passed on answering the question of “How are you?” She would answer in detail……we are talking everything from bowel issues, menstrual, pms, you name it issues, real or imagined, In her case, mostly imagined, I used to cringe when anyone asked her, it got to the point that for me, if anyone asked, my response was a simple OK, I still do that. Partly out of habit and also because of feeling embarrassed at having a mother that fed off her so called ailments. I tried explaining to her that people weren’t looking for a list of her ailments…I could  tell….their eyes would glaze over….but she persisted in listing everything. For me…that made me acutely aware of that “greeting”…my belief was that a simple okay would have gone a long way…..later when it got to be that I was the one with the medical issues, I still could not bring myself to complain…..to this day I still have a hard time honestly answering that question…I know I was affected very much by that….it is why when I’ve had to be hospitalized I prefer to be left alone, no visits, I don’t want the attention out of pity or obligation. I’m sure I have developed my own set of personal issues over the whole situation……my first bout with surgery and a hospital stay I had to endure a mother that preferred to visit with strangers rather than tending to my needs, to the point that I had to ask that her presence be banned. I just could not stomach her being around in my time of need…..knowing that she would find a way to make it about herself…..to this day any genuine interest in me is met with apprehension….I don’t want pity…..okay I was going somewhere with this….lost my train of thought….nite

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I hear that often…I’ve even said that myself a time or two or ten, and I mean it, as I’m sure those that say it to me mean it as well. But what if what I truly need is something quite simple yet very personal? Get your minds out of the gutter if it is headed there….

What I need is probably something I would be better off paying for than asking for…again if your mind is going to the gutter get it out of there….

I need the healing magic of the human touch. I need to feel strong hands on my back, alternating between gentle touching, light scratching and a deep massage.

Not the kind of thing you can ask a friend to do for you…..

guess I should let my fingers do the walking on this one….

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Dear Menopause,

I admire your persistence. I really do (not). You’re tenacious, and—generally speaking—I like that in a syndrome. The way you valiantly infiltrate one part of my life after another despite my previous attempt to tame you with artificial hormone regulation… well, it’s something to behold. I have to give you that.

The slow but steady weight gain as you methodically readjust my metabolism is insidious, true, but not unexpected. I don’t like it. All of this additional shopping for camouflaging attire is not always pleasant; I never know what the next body part that will morph is. 

And so the broken-internal-thermostat issue has also been intensifying over time. And it couldn’t just be that I’m always too hot or too cold, either. Nope! That would be too easy! Instead I’ve become a thermostatic controller. In the evenings I shiver on the couch wrapped up in my robe—out of nowhere—a hot flash swoops in with immediate vengeance, and I have to all but strip naked to withstand the sudden onslaught. At other times I become faint and dizzy in extreme body heat despite my noticeable lack of too-tight anything.

At least I can rest assured knowing that whatever temperature I’m suffering through at the moment, chances are it will swing the other way in a few minutes if I just wait.

The changes in my skin are likewise simply charming. I mean, really, who knew I could have both wrinkles and acne at the same time? How was I to even dream of the day when the zits would nestle right up against my newly parched and puckering skin around my eyes? Well played, menopause well played indeed.

But this latest move is truly the crown jewel to top all others, I am certain. I mean, other symptoms have come and gone while my hormone levels have self adjusted to some degree……I cannot sleep.

Maybe you’ll be so sly as to try to pin it on something else—stress, perhaps—but this baby has your fingerprints all over it. I have never been a champion sleeper. I could never out sleep anyone, any time. Now I lie awake at night with only my hot flashes to keep me company. And despite having endured this late-to-drop-off, early-to-pop-awake hell for nearly ten years, now, I also cannot nap. Furthermore: I’m mean as all get out. We all know who brings that particular party to the table.

I’m looking at you, Menopause. I’m on to you. I get it—you won’t be ignored, and I have no pet pooch to stew to make my point. Hormones or no, you’re here to stay. I get it. How about we call a truce? You let me get some rest and chill out, and my kids and I will thank you. Heck, go ahead and sprout a couple more of those black hairs from my lip instead…..maybe…..I’ve got tweezers handy.

But this pondering the miracle of womanhood thing at 3:00 a.m. is getting very, very old. Stop being such a bitch.

Yours truly (whether I want to be or not),

 Ruby

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Good, bad and ugly, I had all those and then some today.

Good: company, conversation, technology & modern day inventions.

Bad: rags, ragging, bleeding visits.

Ugly: me, menopause, cleaning the rags

The other stuff, found money, not what we thought, family reunions, relationships, getting old, outhouses & tp alternatives…so that was the condensed version….I’ll put it all together for you now.

So early this morning or by the time I’m done writing this it will be yesterday morning….my cuz called, asked if I was going to be around as I would be having company. Shortly thereafter two of my aunties arrived, with goodies even, Pan de Sal and Pan Con Piloncillo, two old family favorites, made by grandma back in the day. (it was good but grandma made it better) anyway I was hungry and I don’t turn away baked goods, so I pulled a piece off and ate it, it was yum. So we headed to my living room, the front one, it’s roomier than the back one…and sat down to visit, I updated them about my surgery and recovery, then I had to ask someone closer to the source, and the question was “What about the big money find?” I wanted details.

Last week I had been clued in on some family news, seems that a wallet had been found in a coffee can along with $12,000.00 in a closet. Hmmm, interesting and cool, my grandfather has been dead well over two decades; the house itself has seen its fair share of owners (among the family) and a few tenants (not family) as it was rented out for a while. Well the current legend was that a cousin had found that while in the process of doing some remodeling. I was curious as to the details and especially the contents of the wallet. Well, seems there was an inside joke, and the amount was greatly exaggerated (I was unclear as to the reason for the hyperbole) but oh well, let it be. In reality the find was only $12.00, the bills were from 1983-1984, a silver dollar and some photographs, my granddads ID, SS card, and medical insurance card. I still think it is a neat find, and amazed that with the house seeing so many people come through it, it had not been found sooner. One of my aunts was their main caretaker and lived at home and stated that in all those years or even the time soon after his passing she never once gave any thought to the wallet. Nevertheless it is a neat story and a really nice memento for the cousin who found it, I did have to ask who’s pictures were in the wallet, most of his kids and some of his cousins and of course a photo of my grandmother.

From there the conversation went on to me relaying who my company was when I came home from the hospital, and subsequently the subject turned to rags…what kind of rags,…well rags that were used back in the day for those special days in a month where a certain Aunt Flo would make her monthly visit, Aunt Flo would make her visits to three young ladies and these visits would last a few days. Rags were torn from old sheets, shirts, flour sacks and any other available source. So then I had to ask was one person assigned to wash the rags, well the response was no, to each her own, and the kicker, there was no bleach, they just went and washed them and hung them out to dry. So I had other questions, with 3, I guess 4 (counting my grandmother) people needing rags monthly where did they get rags, what if there were no rags, I can’t imagine the nightmare, they recounted their stories of getting off the bus or up from a chair and having the dreaded stain. Brothers did not tease them…I am glad that I didn’t have to go through that ordeal, my Aunt Flo was a mean bloody bitch, she came to see me 2-3 times a month, her first visit lasted 23 days, yes, 23…and she insisted on seeing me at least twice a month for about a week (7 day week) I hated her, and I am happy she has been out of my life for years now. I don’t mourn her, but she left some devastation in her wake. I guess we can’t have it all, at least not all of us.

We talked relationships, but currently not a subject I care to revisit, I agree with the wisdom shared and imparted.

Family reunions, well all talk has been between them, so that is not any way to get anything organized, perhaps our generation should take over, hmm, may discuss this with the cousins.

I enjoyed their company and conversation and goodies and I even had an offer to have a meal cooked for me, but I passed. I was going to have to head out so I was already planning on picking up some fast food. (Should have taken her up on the offer)

I ran out of steam, but I’ll be back to cover the other fun stuff…

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