CONSTIPATION...

...makes you feel just like that picture, doesn't it?? Like a big sack of ____, all bloated and cranky, and you can't even tell people why because, for some reason, this is the forbidden topic that nobody wants to talk about; it's just too skeevy I guess.

Constipation has to be one of the worst 'minor' body experiences of life. It creates all kinds of other problems, like gas (which IS okay to talk about because farting is funny) that can make you feel like you fell on a sword,  swallowed a double-edged razor or are having a massive heart attack.

Not to mention the social horror of accidentally relieving yourself of chest-crushing pain by letting one go at work, a restaurant or a friend's home. Lighting a match used to dispel the odor, but nobody smokes anymore so what do you do? Crinkle up your nose and look around disapprovingly, wondering who did that? Or blame the dog (if you're lucky enough to have one in the room)? 

Imagine being trapped on a NYC subway in that horrible brown cloud with nowhere to go? I've had the charming experience, and I've read that if you can smell something, you are also tasting it, so think about that the next time your olfactory senses are assaulted.

Another lovely result of constipation are hemorrhoids...now there's a fun thing!

Fiber is the answer, but when you have to eat the equivalent of a tree to stay "regular" every day, well, constipation becomes a regular and unwelcome guest.

Thank you very much, and I sincerely hope this has not offended you!

The "Tupperware Ladies"

Oh..my...goodness.....is it any wonder that the decade following this one went berserk?? (Or sane, depending on how you look at it.)

Ah, the 1950s, when employers told women to "wear heels, gloves and hose" (hosiery) or they'd get sacked. NYLON STOCKINGS on hot summer days and voluminous undergarments to 'poof' your skirt out so that your waistline was as impossibly tiny as Scarlett O'Hara's. And those matching parasols ~ what the hell were these people thinking?? 

I admit it, I wore white gloves, heels and "hose" for my very first job interview in 1964. And hated every second of it from that day forward. Then, by some benevolent force of the universe, less than 10 years later, I stumbled into the music industry, where jeans and t-shirts were the accepted uniform and I was home free!

Thank every star in heaven that the Sixties came along and turned its predecessor on its stuffy ass, annihilating every stupid 'custom' in the process. Tie-dyed shirts replaced those tacky dresses. Headbands, the silly hats. Bras were burned. And the best one of all, love beads instead of those ubiquitous-ridiculous pearl necklaces. Every 1950s TV mother wore white pearls, no matter WHAT. 

I have a thirty-something friend who views the 1950s as the corniest, most moronic and stifled decade of all time. I initially disagreed with him, but in retrospect, if you weren't lucky enough to be a boomer kid during that decade, he's quite correct.

And if any employer ever told me to "wear hose," he's the one who'd be wearing them. Around his throat.

Greetings From Planet Paula: Rude Awakenings

Greetings From Planet Paula: Rude Awakenings: Maybe it's myopia, maybe it's wishful thinking, or maybe we're all like that little kitty who gazes into a looking glass and only sees what ...