Happy Birthday To Me… Happy Birthday To Me???


Joy oh Joy… the joyous gifts that we as women are given on our birthdays…  You know what birthday I mean, correct, the one that start the next cycle of our lives… oh what a fun journey this next cycle will be… Humph!!!

I guess using the term, gift and cycle in the same paragraph is miss leading, on this birthday, my cycle decided to give me a little more than normal, it decided to hang around awhile, hmmm, I muttered to myself… well that is odd, haven’t had this issue before, in the back of my mind, I was in denial as to what this could potentially mean, perhaps, I am just having an odd month, you know, lots of stress, maybe not enough exercise or better yet, I decided it was from not enough sex… determining this to be the case, I made mental note to attack my other half upon the moment he entered the door when he came home…  that would fix this extra birthday gift and make it go away…

After repeatedly using this approach, one evening, while dozing, I began to notice that the room had become extremely…shall we say… a freaking blazing inferno….oh my freaking god… Please get this sea of blankets off of me know… I struggle to get my leg out of the blanket all while managing to piss off our cat at the foot of the bed, begrudgingly, he spat at me, showing me his annoyance and he moved over to my husbands side of the bed, what the hell…  did we leave the heat on ultra high before going to bed earlier, I struggled to remember, no, I know we didn’t, wow…one let out is not going to do the trick, I wondered what I was thinking when I wore a tee shirt and sleeping bottoms, they were now stuck to me, a bit damp I was… second leg out… what is that trickling between my breast is that water???  Did the cat piss on me because I woke him up… now struggling to fully waken myself, I see the fur ball snuggled close to my husband, he has not pissed on me, why am I wet???  Crap… I am freaking burning up, my hair is damp… I toss all the covers fully off of me, throwing them onto my husband, I am sure I have fever and to have one this high, I must be close to death… surely there is no other reason to be this warm…  do I have food poisoning???  Why am I sweating…   crap… I began to realize I am cold… damn, give me those covers back and I want them now… I grab them off my husband and take a few of his at the same time… I prepare myself for a bad case of the flue tomorrow morning, because I know to have this type of fever, means that I will be hugging the porcelain bowl and not want to be far from it, I am sure of this…  I doze and go back to a sound sleep, when I wake, I am fine, other than when I went to bed, I had straight hair and in my rage of sweat, I must have gotten my hair wet and it is now curly and fuzzy… nice, what a beauty I am as I look in the mirror…  funny though I don’t feel sick…

It was 3 nights later, I repeated this pattern and after a few more weeks of the on and off switch with my body’s thermostat, I began to self diagnose, because somewhere in the back of my mind…  a little voice was saying… you know, that was a very significant number you just hit on your birthday… right???

About 2 months later as I was at work, I was talking to a co worker, while sitting at my desk, I began to notice that I was starting to get hot, the hair on the back of my neck felt like a heavy wool coat!!!  I looked at my co worker as I began to feel like perspiration on my upper lip… I asked him the only thing I could think of… is it HOT in here…. Or it is just me???  He looks at me and says nope, it is actually a bit cool in here today… Damn… I was so afraid that is what he would say…  shall we say going forward, for the next 2 months, I learned to dress in layers in the dead of winter and a pony tail became my hair style of choice, I began to understand why so many women as they got older chose short  hair…   I began to wonder if maybe, just maybe I could possibly, you know.. Me entering.. that M stage of my life…  This would require research…

With Google as a girl’s best friend and my husband asleep, I crept to our home office and plugged in the M word in search bar… I read all about it, when it starts, what the symptoms were.. fuck.. I had almost all of them… denial has been my friend, years of taking care of my body, eating healthy, exercising… and it has betrayed me… damn body, in my mind that meant I could betray it back… I lay in bed, partially covered prepared for the heat wave, one leg out, our cat had learned it was safer to sleep next to my husband than potentially risk being kicked awake every few nights… I decided I would sleep on it…

In the morning, I went to the health food store and bought all the natural remedies I could find… after 3 weeks, I realized I had just simply donated hard earned money and still continued to dress in layers and had now resorted to 2 fans on the side of my bed… it became all too clear… it was time to see a DR… it had been a few years, kids were grown.. life was full, so hadn’t taken the time to visit the lay down and spread em doctor…

When I called to make an appointment, I found she had moved to a new state… they said they would set me up with a new DR, a male doctor… I said no thank you, I didn’t want to explain this man… how would he understand…  So, I did the next best thing.. I went to my girlfriend, who was a few years older than myself…  I met her for wine and we talked and I explained the past several months’ events and she was all to sympathetic, letting me know that her time has started a few years ago.. she had opted for the natural way though and could not refer me to a doctor… was she fucking nuts… who would opt for natural when after I realized my natural approach didn’t work, I had crept back to the office one night and with google as my friend and no longer in denial, I searched.. .menopause and how the fuck to make the symptoms go away…

She offered to ask several of her girlfriends for a referral for me… I thanked her and we finished our girls catch up time and wine and we headed our separate ways for the evening… As I got to the work the next morning, I turned on my computer and went to check my email and true to form, my friend had sent out an email that read…  My first and last name has started having hot flashes and is looking for a gynecologist can anyone refer her to one… now everyone knew… I didn’t know to say… so I closed my email… put my hair in a ponytail, removed my first layer… and went to work.. at lunch I opened back up my email and there we numerous emails from friends of our age group that had replied with referrals and shared stories of misery that made me laugh… seems I was not alone in this and that I had entered a new cycle of my life with this birthday that brought me to a new sisterhood, an odd way to bond, but a nice way to start a new chapter… next week, I shall meet my new DR that is referred by many of the women on the email chain and if this DR knows what is good for her and she wants to leave the office in one piece, I will leave her office with a prescription to make me go back to normal…  Happy Birthday to me…

Ciao Bella… a Pissed Off Sarah…

Interesting Quotes And Their True Meanings…


Aspire to be Barbie – the bitch has everything…  Sarah says… boy does that bitch really does have everything, come on sister.. she’s got a play house, a Barbie mobile and best of all  a Ken dude that is made of plastic and hard, that she controls… and wow… I guess she does have everything, except batteries to keep Ken going…

I married Miss Right. I just didn’t know her first name was Always…  Sarah says… Oh Baby cakes… Really, you didn’t know her first name was Ms.. not Miss Always… cuz now your ass is married and that makes your first name… Yes Dear…

Maybe this world is another planet’s hell…  Sarah say… Uh, really?  Do you think… what was your first clue???  Your day at the office???

Go to Heaven for the climate, Hell for the company…  Sarah says… well where do you wanna be… in the sunshine with you know… those types… or in the heat with your friends, sipping cocktails by the pool…watching the pool boy… who you know… screwed up too and ended up here servicing you… tough choice… but I a prone to the heat…

Why should we take advice on sex from the Pope?  If he knows anything about it, he shouldn’t!  Sarah says…  well she doesn’t want to step on toes… but come on… does it get any clearer that statement… and who is the Pope and exactly what does he does for a living… not quite sure on that and why has he never had sex???

When I was a kid I used to pray every night for a new bicycle. Then I realized that the Lord doesn’t work that way so I stole one and asked Him to forgive me…  Sarah says… LOL.. the true definition of religion… better to ask for forgiveness than permission…

A man is incomplete until he is married. After that, he is finished.  Sarah says… And your point??

He is a self-made man and worships his creator…  Sarah says.. Hey dude.. why does it need to be all about man and his creator… you self righteous bastard… don’t you know we made you… or I guess the correct term is own you…

When life gets you down – just put on your big girl panties and deal with it.  Sarah says… put em on sister, you lame whiny ass bitches are giving the rest of us a bad name, so shut, buck up and do the job like the rest of us…

A compromise is an agreement whereby both parties get what neither of them wanted.   Did Sarah here the words I do in this statement???

I usually lump organized religion, organized labor, and organized crime together. The Mafia gets points for having the best restaurants… Sarah says, Italian food is the best she has ever had… yum yum…

The National Rifle Association says, ‘Guns don’t kill people. People do’. But I think the gun helps.  Sarah says… no comment because common sense and not politics tells you this is a true statement and leave it at that…  because one thing Sarah has learned… is common sense really doesn’t matter…

Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt.   Sarah says… WTF… have you been listening to my phone calls lately???

A good listener is usually thinking about something else.  Sarah says… What???

Today is the last day of some of your life.   Sarah says… Wow… Really, that is the best you can come up with… dumb ass…

Ciao Bella… bite me… Sarah…

Drunk Monkeys and Fruit Flies…


Oh yeah Baby… that caught your attention didn’t it… I mean really… What on earth do “Drunk Monkeys and Fruit Flies” have in common?  I know you are wondering, questioning, thinking… pondering… fondling… wait that is another blog to be written about later… Oh sugar, let me tell you… they got a whole lot more in common than we could ever imagine…

Sweetie pie… sugar muffin…  lover lips…  gooey bear… or as a friend of my is known to say… gooey duck… Well now, have you gagged yet… I have just typing that shit and it made me wanna hurl…  that is what Sarah likes to call the cooing of a “Drunk Monkey”… I mean really, who the fuck talks that way… let alone when trying to pick up on someone… sitting down starting to have a decent conversation, add a few adult beverages to the table, of course ordered by the monkey itself, well on the way to being a drunk monkey…  It starts off well enough, he is decent looking,  dressed OK, has most of his hair, no ring on his finger…  you zero in on him… thinking, damn girlfriend, this could be your lucky night to score a good one…

The monkey makes his way up to you… you tuck your muffin top down as far as you can beneath the table top… you tug a the 2 sizes v neck shirt you have on to pull the “V” down to show off the girls… ahhh… those girls, what they wouldn’t give for a little action this evening… the monkey spots those girls… the big long wide ass cleavage bigger than an ass crack… how can he resist… he can’t, he staggers over to your table… Belt buckle all big and shiny… his pants so snug you can see the outline of the money clip in his pocket… however you are thinking to yourself…  I hope that is a money clip and not something else… you can’t take your eyes of it as he slowly, ever so slowly due to the few “cocktails” he has already had before spotting your ass crack above below your chin… wait, I am sorry, that is your cleavage and those are your girls… fuck, I will get it right… hard to tell the difference!

Now, you and he are engrossed in an in-depth conversation about the increase in the park rent where his single wide currently sits and him sharing his dream with you of moving it to some land and having some …. uh, what are those things called… oh yeah, some pigs and chickens… OMG… you are thinking, this could be the one, the night you meet the perfect one for you… you have always wanted some of those wild things in your yard for your kids to chase… OMG… better suck that muffin top in some more and now you are just resting the girls on the table, the ass crack is there for him and the rest of the bar to see…. after round 5… the monkey now on his way to being a total drunk ass monkey makes his move and reaches over and swallows your face… you are in heaven…  you let him know you want to see that single wide…  he is happy to obliged…

You both get up and you realize it may be best if you drive… he is a bit wobbly… to your Plymouth Duster you go… the nice orange one with bad breaks… the two of you… climb inside, he begins to wash your whole face with a big ass wet nasty kiss… you get that special tingle… in your little boxaroo… tonight is gonna be your night babycakes… he is telling you… sugar muffin, I am going to bury myself in those girls… you are so excited you can’t put the car in gear fast enough…

You drive to his place, getting lost 2 times because his shots of shitty ass black velvet are kicking in high gear, finally, you reach is tin tee pee, you are so excited… he opens the door and falls out of the car…you race to his side to pick him up, he falls face first in your ass crack… I mean the girls… shit, I can’t tell the difference… this makes you tingle some more… in the trailer you go… you let him lead you to his crushed velvet headboard and bed… you are so excited, you both undress… you toss yourself on the bed and he falls forward onto you… telling you he is gonna give you the … the… he is silent… you ask him…. what lover boy, what are you gonna give me… lover boy…what???  All you hear is snoring… No… No… this can’t be… this was the night, the night you were gonna give it up…the night you were gonna get rid of the fruit flies from that dried up thing… you been saving for the one…  Instead…  you are left with a Drunk Monkey and you still got your fruit flies…

Yowza baby girl… Sarah Says to fork up some cash and paid to get that thing serviced…

Ciao… Sarah B… who ain’t got no fruit flies buzzing around her…