“…for every woman who ever pulled her hair out trying to explain–for the 46th time–the importance of putting the toilet seat down, for Christ’s sake, or that burping the national anthem after every meal is not a constitutional right…

Strip away all the hoohah, the pink and the blue, the booties and the pacifiers, and what you’ve got is a world in which women are valued for what their ovaries do and their wombs produce.

Here’s what’s P-ing me O, frosting my hide, and generally adding to my disgruntlement this week.
Target: Yes, again. I made a trip to Target in Elk Grove yesterday because I needed (a) knickers, …

And I’m laughing, snorting even, in that not-so-subtle way that demands you ask me, “what’s so funny?”

Since in this state (i.e., the state of being on painkillers), my brain is floating in the ether, if you’re looking for sense here, turn away.

The job was close by, I could indulge my lust for all things skin care, and as a bonus, I could impart to other women the secrets that I have accrued over a life lived in cosmetics.

Two weeks without a new post on MidLifeBloggers–my my my, haven’t we all been missing us. And haven’t I been remiss…

It’s Wednesday.  I bet you’re wondering: where’s that whatchamacallit Writer’s Workshop thingie?  S’not here.  Maybe t’won’t be ever again.  This website is iterating (new cool word I read all about here in the New York …

You should know from the outset that my tongue is planted firmly in my cheek.  This post will not mention the decorated dead of America’s many wars.  Not that they don’t deserve it, but, hey, …

I tried all the tricks that had served me so well in the past to lose….Nothing worked. Those pounds were beyond pesky; they were stuck to my body in places they had never gone before.