T.M.I

My initial Hormone Highway post from a few days ago now merits its first follow-up.

I will be periodically (no pun intended) posting follow-ups as I make my way down this dark, desert highway, a cool drink in my hand, the warm smell of...wait a minute...sorry, couldn't help the reference.

What follows may be TMI for some of you, but when I speak of hormones, I get real. Just about as real as the Real Housewives of New York City's Ramona Singer did last week when she had her TMI moment on national television. As I settled into my couch to watch Part I of the RHONY Reunion, I almost dropped my wine glass at Ramona's prompt reply to the first question of the show directed at her: "So just to confirm," says Andy, the show's host, "You're not pregnant right now, right?"
"No. But I still get my period. I have it right now," says Romona bluntly, without missing a beat. "I get it every 30 days like clockwork, and that's why I look so great, so young! I don't need liquid facelifts," obviously a comment meant to hit Jill Zaran right between her injected brows.

So Ramona kept going on and on about how she's 54 years old and still gets her period every 30 days no matter what and when she was a few days late, it prompted her to think she was pregnant. The more I am listening to her and begrudgingly agree with her, I scan the television and even pause it on her face to catch the slightest hint of a facial sag, and don't see it. But the bitch was right. It IS a big part of why she still looks so great and supple. And I totally hated her. Because that's the way it was supposed to go for me. But I, dear friends, have already spotted some jowl sagging, which I have pointed out to Patti on several occasions and to which she has always replied in two octaves too high "You're crazy!" (God bless her heart), but *I* see it and *I* know it's there!!!!

The good news is that after being on the pill after just one month, I finally got mine! Of course I was packing for a trip to Mexico and was totally unprepared as I hadn't shopped for tampons or pads in almost two years (yes, two YEARS), my sister swooped in and saved the day with my supply for that month. Of course, being super prepared and organized, she gave me a cleanly zipped baggie of every size out there - super, heavy, regular, light, drip, liners, with wings, without wings - literally, one for every single phase of your period. God bless her too.

So this second month, I made the long-awaited trip to Osco to buy some for myself. It felt good to linger there in the feminine hygiene aisle...it had been a while. So I took it all in - what was new? What was different? OOOohhh...now they have the Pearl Tampax in three different sizes ALL IN ONE BOX! Yippee! I was sold.

As I was being rung up, the twentysomething girl behind the register asks me, "Are these the ones with the cardboard? I hate those."
"Nooooo!" I replied. "These are the soft, rounded plastic applicators. They're awesome," I kept going, not missing a beat.

So she asks me if I don't mind opening up one of them so she can see them. So there I was, like an old pro once again, teaching the youngins about the ladythings. We were standing there, me holding the soft pearlized blue applicator explaining to her how the contour is more conducive to its purpose, just chatting away - a real life tutorial (short of a demonstration) at the Osco cash register about tampons, oblivious as to who was passing by.

Another Osco employee, a fiftysomething, decides to join in the conversation just as the twentysomething says, "Those don't look like they hold enough. I tend to be very heavy my first few days."

(Of course you are.)

So the fiftysomething lady says in her own TMI moment, "Well that ain't gonna cut it then. You need SUPER! That's why I always just back it up with a pad..." she continued, seemingly mumbling to herself as she was walking away. The last thing I heard her say was, "You see I just can't WAIT to just get rid o' mine! I'm ready to just get rid of it!" And off she went dragging her feet and flicking her wrist down into mid air.

I have a feeling she will one day remember that moment and realize that indeed, that was Too Much Information; information she wishes she hadn't shared, or even thought.

-Cathy