New Pet Peeve

Ok, I have new pet peeve.
I was browsing through some advertisements for swimming suits and decided to look at the "plus sized fashions." Why do they have size 0-2 models modeling "plus-sized" fashions. Seriously??? Do they think no one can tell the difference between a size 2 and a size 20? The worst thing is, some of those suits are not at all flattering on those stick bodies. It may actually look good on curves, but girls shaped like pencils look heavy in them. Are they trying to sell these creations?
If you are going to try a sell a fat girl a swim suit, try showing what it looks like on a fat girl. If it looks like crap on a stick, even a fat chick won't pick it up.

I am H.O.T.!

There was a time not very long ago I would have loved to have been called hot. Now I know what the letters H-O-T really stand for...Hormonal, Old and Testy.
Since entering my mid-forties (still significantly younger than my sisters), my hormones have run completely amok. I am constantly flipping from being cold to sweltering. My temperature varies by 30 degrees from moment to moment. I can go four days with approximately 3 hours of sleep because I find myself wide awake at 1 a.m. and unable to go back to sleep until about 5:30 a.m., by which time my husband is up and being his usual silent self. (Add sarcasm dripping from my voice here.)
Along with hormones that are acting like a fish on the bank, I also have to deal with flesh on my hands which have the consistency of a paper towel. Grocery bags now leave bruises on my delicate arms. My lovely daughter says, "Man, I hope I don't have those old-ass looking hands." (Guess what baby. Heredity is hell and God has a sense of humor, twisted as it may sometimes be. I mean seriously, anyone who can come up with menopause must be a little twisted.) My eyes are now virtually worthless. I am too near-sighted to see past my nose and too far sighted to see within two feet of my face. Hmmm... A dilemma.
So now I have flip-flopping hormones and an old body. I guess it's no wonder I'm testy. Yes, I prefer the term testy to grouchy, cranky or bitchy. If you don't care for the term, then just bite me.