Monthly Archives: April 2008

dear hormones pt. 2

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So it’s coming on two years since I started taking you for my autoimmune disorder, and though I know you do all sorts of good things…

… well, YOU SUCK. LIKE A FREAKIN’ DYSON ON A DATE WITH ANOTHER DYSON IN A WIND TUNNEL.

Most of the time, granted, you do your thing without interfering too much. But when you get in the mood, you turn my body into a science fiction novel.

However.

I can deal with the fact that I never experienced PMS until my early thirties. It’s like gaining an annoying friend who I only have to talk to a week out of each month.

I can deal with hot flashes. They give me nice color, kind of like a scorching, blistering sunburn from being trapped on a desert island.

I can deal with migraines, nausea, hives… you name it. Though not all at once, please. And no locusts. That’s too biblical for my tastes.

What I can’t really deal with is that you’re the thing I have to blame it all on.

Hormones are supposed to be good when you’re a single girl of 33! The very idea of hormones is pure Cosmo fodder!

You’re supposed to feel them raging! Be inspired by them to do naughty things! Slip them on like Manolos! Toss them about like beads at Mardi Gras!

Not take them daily to avoid getting cancer or diabetes or osteoporosis. Killjoy.

It’s like putting on a cocktail dress to sit down and knit for a few hours, perhaps while beating yourself about the head with a porcupine figurine.

I’m tired of you guys not being the FUN kind of hormones.

So could you get on that?

Thanks,

Meg

what I believe.

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I believe that coffee covers over a multitude of wrongs.

I believe that, while beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, ugly usually rests right around the ankles.

I believe that the face you make when you eat grapefruit juice is how you will look in thirty years.

I believe that the ability to forgive completely is a survival skill.

I believe that everything in life seems more simple when you’re watching a kitten spaz out about a string.

I believe that turning into my mom is not the dramatic event I thought it was at age 13.

I believe that marketing pitches and romantic comedies always make me wonder what I’m missing out on… and are essentially the same damn thing.

I believe that calories you eat while laughing disappear. They might show up later, but then you beat them with a stick.

I believe that what you say about other people says much more about you than it does about them.

I believe that white and black are not boring shades for clothing… but purple totally is.

I believe that Oreos have much to teach us about living in harmony.

I believe that how I see myself is pretty accurate… but my response is probably a little harsh.

I believe that half the time I should just shut up. And the other half of the time, I should be on alert for the same.

I believe that love is possible, but like is equally cherishable.

I believe that flowers are always best right before they bloom fully, and right before they wilt.

I believe that I usually like people more after I’ve seen them dance.

I believe Rick Astley deserves all the airplay.

I believe that butterflies are just hairy men in dresses.

I believe that if I stayed out in the sun long enough, I might grow another inch.

I believe that the ability to create a good moment at a difficult time is a priceless skill.

I believe that you don’t always know what’s best for you… but no one else might right then, either.