Holey Bones, Batman!

By Tonia

“The good news is that even as we get older, guys still like looking at our boobs. The bad news is, they have to squat down first.” - Maxine

Recently the doctor had a bone to pick with me – osteoporosis. Yup. Now the dog and I both have bone loss – his because he doesn’t bury them and mine because I lack estrogen.

Yea, went through that whole MEANoPAUSAL thing a few years ago. Told the family that the thermostat better damn well stay on 60 … or I would run around naked. Everyone unanimously agreed to pile on more clothing.

Used valet parking during that time because they didn’t forget where the car was parked. The forgetfulness did have an advantage, though. Helped me manage my work stress … by the time I got home, I forgot what had happened!

But no one told me about the hair loss! My head started looking like a dandelion gone to seed…

Thought my troubles were over when menopause was over. Ahhahahahaha. 

Here is my twist on the dr's recommendations for osteoporosis:

High calcium diet – Moving from dark chocolate to milk chocolate is important here. I now make candy from those caramel calcium chews … and can tell you how much calcium is in a Pina Colada.

Additional Vitamin D – So which is it? Stay out of the sun or get in the sun? Guess to avoid broken bones I’ll be looking like leather-face.

Weight bearing exercise — Does this mean I need to gain more weight? I thought the extra weight I gained during menopause was weight bearing enough. Already need the Jaws of Life to get me off the couch.

Quit smoking — I’ve never been a smoker but should I start so that I can quit? Just sayin.’

Avoid falls — Well, no shit. Like I’ve been trying to be a floor-diver all these years!

To embrace the changes and, at least celebrate getting rid of those ratty emergency tampons at the bottom of your purse, get a group of post menopausal girlfriends’ together and …

(1) Use panty liners as name tags

(2) Serve Pina Coladas or White Russians or other drinks with milk

(3) Play a game of Old Maid - but call her Cougar instead – and whoever ends up with her at the end of game wins.

(4) Create milk bath party favors. Mix together four cups of dry milk with two cups cornstarch and a 2/3 teaspoon of your favorite fragrant oil. Place one cup of the mixture inside six snack size ziplock bags. To make a cute label, take a piece of cardstock and fold it over in half. Staple it to the ziplock bag and trim the excess from the edges. Then create and print out a cute label for the bag and glue it on the piece of cardstock. Each bag has enough milk bath for two baths.

Viva la Vagina

By Tonia

“A vagina is a terrible thing to waste.” – author unknown

At one of our outdoor annual parties we designate a place called Vagina Valley. One of the things guests can do there is finger paint pictures of their vaginas and post them on the fence. One year a friend’s 82 year old grandmother was overheard saying to her 80 year old sister, “Let’s go paint our vaginas!” Her sister said, “Noooo… I don’t think so,” and the grandmother chirped back, “Oh, come on. When in our lives will we ever get another chance to paint our vaginas?” So off they went to paint.

Like Eve Endsler, from the famed Vagina Monologues, we think its time to say and embrace (both symbolically and literally) our vaginas. After all, vaginas are NOT black holes in space where things get sucked in and never come back out. Vaginas are magnificent places where we receive/give pleasure and give birth.

Yet vaginas continue to be the mumbled body part – a shameful and dirty place. Consider how we’re told to clean our natural secretions for the sake of “feminine hygiene.” We want to know: Where are the products for men? Where is the Masculine Hygiene aisle at the grocery store? Where are the Penis Deodorants? The Semen Towels? The Ball Wipes? The Jockey Shorts Liners? But I digress.....

We think women should celebrate their vaginas. Ancient women did. Catalan fishermen’s wives displayed their genitals to the water for good luck before their men left for sea. Women in southern India were said to have held back dangerous storms by exposing themselves. And, up until the 1900s, peasant women in several western countries exposed their vulvas to their crops, shouting, 'Please grow as high as my genitals are now.'

So here are some of our ideas for your Viva la Vagina Party:

Play vagina games

1. Toss the KY through the vagina
2. Pin the clitoris to the vulva

Hang posters for guests to sign using the following sentence starters:

1. If my vagina had a name, it would be...
2. If my vagina wore clothes, it would wear...
3. If my vagina gave advise it would say...

Create a Vagina Compliment Box where guests can write compliments to their vaginas. Read these later as part of the evening's entertainment - with or without names.

Viva la Vagina!

Bingo Bimbos

By Tonia

Question: How do you get a sweet little 80-year-old lady to say a cuss word?

Answer: Get another sweet little 80-year-old lady to yell, "BINGO!"

Anna (youngest daughter blogger) and I decided to play Bingo Friday night. Don't ask why - we live in Oklahoma. I was worried there might be a minimum age requirement and we would be too young. Anna assured me I wouldn’t be too young. Little bitch. When we got to the counter the cashier asked, “Is this your first time?” I guess it must have been our dressed-person-in-a-nudist-colony look. “Yes, Virgin Bingo players.”

After emptying all the money from my purse and getting our Bingo packets, we felt our way through the billows of cigarette smoke (images of Hell's Cancer Corner) to the NO SMOKING section. We steered past one intense-looking woman who had a dabber in each hand, a 62 oz cup of coffee in front of her, and good luck charms stacked 3-deep. Playing for crack money, lady?  

We sat down and a guy approached us about buying MORE Bingo cards – like our admission fee wasn’t enough money to throw away. The ladies around us called him the “seller” but he seemed more like the “pusher” to me. Would have liked to have gotten popcorn or a hot dog from him, though. Or at least a dance.  :)

Fortunately we sat with ladies who took pity on us and showed us the ropes …. and the dabbers. OMG. Bingo should be an Olympic event. There are 9 cards for each game. And, in case you didn’t know, Bingo is no longer just 5 squares in a row. It’s kites and postage stamps and picture frames … and … and … Rembrandt paintings! Couldn’t keep up. Started to sweat. The numbers were going by so fast my brain shut down. Forgot what a G looked like. I needed to be on an IEP for special education Bingo. People were crying “Bingo” while I was searching for a number that had been called 5 minutes ago. Maybe the only Bingo number for me is O-69…..outside of the Bingo Hall.

But a girlfriends’ Bingo night would be fun. Create your own Bingo cards with naughty words or sex positions (see Kama Sutra) or excuses NOT to have sex (see my friend, Marilyn, for this - she's a pro!). Or celebrate your girlfriends with the Girlfriends’ Bingo Card that we have for you here. Give everyone a Bingo card and have them circulate around the room getting signatures on each square of the girlfriend that fits the description. BINGO!

Girlfriends' Bingo Card

Potty Training

By Rachel

"Usually the triumph of my day is, you know, everyone making it to the potty." - Julia Roberts

My youngest child is finally potty trained. Can you hear the Hallelujah chorus? Except I’m still having flashbacks of the hours spent in the bathroom…. waiting…. and waiting…. and waiting…. reading books, playing games, counting the number of tiles on the bathroom floor. And having that recurrent nightmare - you've had it, right? – the one where you're locked in a endless hallway full of toilets, trying to potty train hoards of dirty-bottomed children before the goldfish crackers on mopeds take over the world. <shudder>

But back to my story. Our potty training not only ended in a diaperless bottom, it produced some other results as well: 

(1) When my son was successful in getting some kind of body matter into the toilet, we treated ourselves to M&Ms. He developed an addiction to sugar and I gained 10 pounds. 
(2) We read so many books on the commode that he now thinks the toilet is his book-reading chair. Climbs up on it when he wants to hear a story. 
(3) When things got boring in the bathroom, we played with toilet paper. I now have a new talent – toilet paper origami. Don't be jealous.

Yes, toilet paper origami. I can now make fans, sailboats, flower pots, all kinds of fascinating objects. I have become obsessed! I now fold toilet paper wherever I go – friends’ homes, park restrooms, mall restrooms, etc. My husband was going to arrange an intervention when I started folding our paper towels. I’ve cut back now but wanted to share with you my favorite fold so you can impress your girlfriends at your next girlfriends’ get-together. Or, better yet, host a toilet paper origami party!  

I had planned on including written instructions in this blog, but when I sent them to my mom to try, she ended up with her arms tangled in toilet paper (Said she thought it would work for bondage….ewwwww….trying to erase that image from my mind now). So, I’m including a You Tube link.  Oh yeah, the instructions are not in English so watch closely!

Toilet paper origami - pleated fold

No Con in this Contest

We want to hear about your FAVORITE girlfriends’ party. Give us the three (3) ingredients that  made it so much fun or special. To enter, simply write your ingredients in a comment to this contest announcement (below). Your comment will be your entry.

The prize is the hilarious must-have party game, Girlfriends’ Intuition. The starting date is NOW and the ending date is May 30th at midnight EST. One entry will be randomly selected from all of the entries. You may enter as many times as you wish but each entry must have unique content.

Prize notification will be by email so make sure that you are a Follower of the Estrofests blog. And please do not let our winning email announcement go to spam – we hate it there. Prize will then be mailed to the winner. Winner must respond to the email prize notification within 10 days or the prize will be awarded to another contestant – which would totally suck for you if you were the winner!

NOTE:

*You must be 18 years old to enter.

*You must be a Follower in order to enter so please sign up!

Birds of a Feather

Estrofests is thrilled to host our very first guest blogger. Lisa Thornbury is a kindred spirit and hilarious party blogger. Check her out at http://www.yummymummyclub.ca/party-mummy  

By Lisa Thornbury

Recently I attended a hen party to celebrate, well, nothing really - just a good excuse for the chicks to gather together. Generally girlfriends + alcohol + chips and dip = Foolproof  Girl’s Night In. However, to say this GNI was for the birds, is putting it mildly.

While the hostess excused herself to check on dinner, we girls entertained ourselves with the house pet, a chatty snow white cockatoo perched on a stand. I bravely coaxed the bird onto my shoulder and was feeling like one of those animal experts who frequent talk shows, until the little pecker...pecked me. I screamed, more from shock than pain and the bird took flight, flapping wildly over head. My red wine sloshed onto the cream colored ottoman as my hand flew to my cheek to assess the damage.

Some brave soul jumped up to grab the flailing bird, but only succeeded in knocking over an end table, while a not-so-brave soul sister dove headfirst into the couch and sought cover under a pile of cushions.  Who knew she’d been traumatized by a gaggle of aggressive geese as a child? Suddenly the music was playing at a deafening volume. One of the chicks had inadvertently perched upon the stereo remote. Was it a coincidence that Ce Lo’s “Fuck you” was playing? I think not. That bird was sending us a message loud and clear – he wanted us to go flock ourselves.

The pissed off bird then snuffed out a candle with his wing, leaving a column of black smoke behind as he bee-lined across the room.   After a dramatic display of flapping and squawking, he landed behind the couch. One of the girls took this opportunity to pounce. How could she have known the bird had just pooped on the floor? She slipped and came crashing down on the tile. Hard.

It was then the hostess returned from the kitchen to what she would later describe as “a scene akin to the apocalypse.”  A coil of smoke hung mid air above our friend who was now sobbing into a pillow. Music blared, shell shocked guests were scattered around the room, while one poor soldier was completely laid out on her back.  Meanwhile, the cocky cockatoo marched happily along the back of the couch, chatting away seemingly oblivious to evil plan he had just hatched.

Ironically, we had chicken for dinner.

Moral of the story?  Angry Birds belong on an iPhone, not a dinner party. If you ever find yourself needing to make amends for your pet’s beastly behavior, here’s the recipe for a Cockatoo Cosmo to help smooth your guests ruffled feathers.

Cockatoo Cosmo:

In a cocktail shaker, combine with ice:
2 oz citrus vodka
1 oz triple sec

1/2 oz fresh lime juice
2 oz pineapple juice

Shake well and pour into a martini glass. Garnish with a pineapple chunk and joy!

Lisa Thornbury is a soul sister with Estrofests. Having played bartender in a former life, Lisa absolutely knows her way around a cocktail shaker. Now with two kids in tow, she knows firsthand how harried moms forgo being a social butterfly to stay at home and cocoon. But she has learned that mummies still need to play. She continues to exercise her penchant for dreaming up playful, and practical party themes. She is known as the “Party Mummy” at the Yummy Mummy Club. We love you, Lisa!

When Life Throws You Lemons Make Lemon Cookies!

By Rachel

“When life gives you lemons, find someone who has vodka and throw a party.”

Ran into an old boyfriend – well, not literally. Started reminiscing about our college days and the POS car that he drove then. We laughed until we cried thinking about that damn car. Memorable highlights:

• Me having to jump out of it while it was still moving so it wouldn't stall. In front of the sorority house. Sorority sisters horrified. Me humiliated by my drop and roll.
• Fraternity brothers secretly moving it all over campus because they didn't want it in front of the fraternity house.
• An accident that severely bent the hood but was able to be beaten down and tied with twine.
• Fraternity brothers stealing a pizza delivery sign and putting it on top while we were at a restaurant celebrating our 1 year anniversary.

So, the next time you and your friends get together to discuss the "lemons" in your life, make these delicious Lemon Cookies. They are fabulous!

Lemon Cookies

Cookies

2 ½ cups all-purpose flour

1 ½ cups white sugar

1 ½ teaspoons cream of tartar

1 teaspoon baking soda

¼ teaspoon salt

1 cup unsalted butter, softened

2 eggs

1 tablespoon freshly grated lemon peel

1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

Glaze

2 ½ cups powdered sugar

¼ cup freshly squeezed lemon juice

Heat oven to 400 degrees. Mix the flour, white sugar, cream of tartar, baking soda and salt in a large bowl. In a separate bowl mix the butter, eggs, grated lemon peel and lemon juice. Add to the flour mixture. Beat at low speed until ingredients are well mixed.

Drop dough by rounded teaspoons, 2 inches apart, onto ungreased cookie sheets. Bake 6 to 8 minutes or until edges are lightly browned.

Combine the glaze ingredients and stir until smooth. Frost warm cookies with glaze. Makes 6-7 dozen cookies.

Pole in the Hole

By Tonia

I have an outdoor party at my house each June where we participate in various “Olympic Events.” Always looking for new ideas, one of my girlfriends sent me this link to a game called Pole in the Hole. We played it and loved it. Give it a try! It’s pee-your-pants hysterical. Click here

What you need:

Two toilet bowl plungers

Two rolls of toilet paper

Directions:

Stand two people at one end of a playing area. Have each of them hold a roll of toilet paper between their legs - somewhere between their knees and their crotch - with the hole facing out so everyone can see it.

At the other end of the playing area (opposite the two players described above) put the rest of the players in two lines (creating “teams”). The two people in the front of the lines place the toilet bowl plungers between their legs - somewhere between their knees and crotch – so that the pole sticks out in the front of their bodies.

Someone shouts, “GO!”

The players with the plungers then move as fast as they can to get to the player at the other end of the playing area with the toilet paper rolls. They must do this without losing the plunger. When the plunger holders get to the toilet paper holders, they must stick the pole (of the plunger) in the hole (of the toilet paper roll), without using their hands.

When this has been successfully accomplished, players exchange equipment (toilet paper roll holders take the plunger and the plunger holders take the toilet paper rolls); former plunger holders now place the toilet paper rolls between their legs and former toilet paper roll holders take the plungers and run back to their lines where they hand off the plungers to the people who are at the front of the lines.

These new plunger holders now place the plungers between their legs and move as fast as they can to get to the player at the other end of the playing area with the toilet paper rolls. This continues until all players have had both a toilet paper roll and a plunger between their legs. The first team to successfully accomplish this wins.

HINT: Players will be more successful if they are careful not to squish the toilet paper roll between their legs as this will close the hole and make it more difficult for plunger holders to get their poles in the holes.

Do You Drive a Garbage Truck?

By Rachel

I've divided moms into two categories: those driving clean cars and those driving garbage trucks disguised as family vehicles. I've always prided myself as one of the former. When my car broke down recently I had to hitch a ride with a friend. It was then that I discovered the "other side."

When I got into my friend's car she said, "Sorry about the car being a mess, but you know how it is when you have kids." Really? Your 5 year old left his empty Starbucks cups, gas receipts, old lipsticks and Men are From Mars and Women are From Venus book in your car? Peculiar kid. And I thought mine were a little strange....

As we drove I was met with several unusual scents. Mostly the smell of rotting banana peels, curdled milk and dirty diapers. Looked for an oxygen mask but had to settle for cracking my window. Didn't want to add vomit to the mix of aromas.

I was glad when we got to my house and I could escape the Stench Mobile. However, it was kind of fun seeing what kind of souvenirs stuck to our asses when we got out of her car. Note to self: give her a dust buster for her next birthday or a gift certificate to a car wash.

The whole experience got me thinking that it would be fun to have a smell-good girlfriends' party. Ask your girlfriends to bring homemade items that smell good (candles, drawer sachets, etc.) and exchange recipes. I've included a great recipe for a homemade air freshener below.

Air Freshener

1/2 cup lemon juice

1/8 cup baking soda

2 cups hot water

Heat water on stovetop or in the microwave. Find your manual if you don't know how to work either appliance. Dissolve the baking soda in hot water and then add the lemon juice. You can use either reconstituted lemon juice (kind you buy at the store in a yellow shaped bottle) or real lemon. Place the mixture in a spray bottle and spray the stench away!

Butt……

By Tonia

Recently, while walking up two flights of stairs in a glass enclosed stairwell, my wrap-around skirt suddenly (and without warning!) dove for the floor, leaving my ass hanging out. I simultaneously lost my mind and became paralyzed. Couldn’t. Bend. Down. To. Pick. It. Up. I stood there frozen for days (OK, maybe not quite that long). I thought maybe no one had seen me - until the next day when someone in the building across the grounds asked me if I had been in the stairway. Damn.

Butts have made a big turn around. Seriously. We used to worry that our butts looked too big. Now big butts are in - both physically and linguistically. Booty. Fanny. Ass. Tush. Heinie. Rump. Buttocks. Can.Bottom. Buns. Cheeks. Posterior. Derriere. And butt expressions: Worked my butt off. Butt of a joke. Bust your butt. Butt crack of dawn. Move your ass. Dumbass. Pain in the ass.

Maybe our butt admiration shows an acceptance of diversity - and normality. Thanks to J.Lo and other beautiful, full bodied women, maybe we are moving past some of our anxiety around body fat. Could it be true??

But, just for the record, I totally missed this one. Had a big butt when I was supposed to have a little butt - and now I have a flat, sagging butt when round butts are in. Go figure. Butt….I appreciate how my butt is always behind me in everything I do! *eye roll*

So, if you are wanting to have a Kick Ass Party, here are some ideas:

(1) Hang a poster that reads, “If my butt had a name it would be.....” and ask guest to sign it.

(2) Hang a toilet seat and ask guests to write sweet messages to their butts on it

(3) As one of the refreshments, mold pudding into a butt.

I KNOW you want to have this party butt…..

Birth Control Patrol

By Tonia

“By far the most common craving of pregnant women is not to be pregnant.” – Phyllis Diller

For centuries women everywhere have been trying to keep babies from getting on board. Some women use the No Penis method of birth control (not much fun). Others use the Get-that-Penis-out-of-Me-RIGHT-NOW method (not always effective). Still others use Sperm Bouncers. As women, we are all too familiar with these Sperm Bouncers – the spermicide, the diaphram, the pill, the patch, the shot, the condom, and the vaginal ring, to name a few. Personally, I think it makes more sense to take the bullets out of the gun instead of wearing a bullet proof vest but I digress….

To celebrate women’s shared pregnancy prevention vexation, here is a game for your girlfriends’ get-together that we call Birth Control Patrol.

Birth Control Patrol Relay:

Prior to the game, decide how many participants you want – we suggest four-six women. For each participant, make sure you have

One small bottle of small candies such as jelly

   beans or Skittles® (the pill),

A pink or red piece of cardboard (or construction

   paper) cut into the shape of a vagina,

A can of shaving cream (spermicide),

A plastic disposable cup (a diaphragm),

A condom (a condom),

A banana (stand-in for male anatomy),

A candle (spiritual symbol),

A set of matches (to light it up)

Set up four tables. One with the bottles of candy; one with the cardboard vaginas, shaving cream and plastic disposable cups; one with the condoms and bananas; one with the candles and matches.

Line up participants and direct them to perform the following tasks when you say, “GO!” 

(1) go to the table with the bottles of candy and eat all the candies (can’t leave until they’ve swallowed),

(2) go to the table with the cardboard vaginas, shaving cream and plastic disposable cups and spray one of the vaginas with the shaving cream and put one of the circle “diaphragms” on top of the shaving cream,

(3) go to the table with the condoms and bananas and put a condom ON a banana,

(4) go to the table with the candles and matches and light a candle, kneel down and pray, “Please, please, please don’t let me be pregnant!”

(5) return to the starting point.

The first one to make it back does NOT win a baby. And, baby, that is reward enough!

Oh, if you really want to have a baby, go ahead, I guess. Just take good care of it.

Dog Gone It

By Anna

Bark, bark, bark.

Bark, bark, BARK! All day. All night. Its cruel and unusual punishment.

When the federal government tried to break down the Branch Davidians in Waco, Texas, they bombarded them with the sounds of animals in distress. Have I offended the Feds? Are they in the neighborhood? OK, I surrender! 

Neither my noise maker's loudest volume or my deepest meditative state can drown out the screeching obnoxious bark of that dog. Before I remembered that I'm 30 years old now and shouldn't act immaturely I had fantasies of...

...barking out the window all night

...duct taping the dog’s mouth shut

...toilet papering the house and throwing some rolls to the dog to chew up

But I maturely (are you reading this, Mom?) decided to simply write a letter from the dog to its owner. Here it is:

Dear Master,

For the love of God, man, I’m old, senile & neglected...bark bark...please let me in when it’s cold. Please let me in in the middle of the night. Bark! If you're having sex with some bitch...I mean, woman, I promise I'll leave you alone. 

Our neighbors now hate us...bark bark...Some of them have even tried to let me out of the yard so I would get picked up by canine control. Is that what you want?? To see me in prison?...bark bark...When I bark it's for a reason, you know. Have you heard of the Dog Whisperer? He could explain it to you...bark bark bark...If this persists...BARK...I’m afraid that one of the neighbors is going to put a contract out on me. Pleeeeaaaase pay some attention to me! And, for God’s sakes, LET ME IN!

Your soon to be BARKING ex-best friend,

___________________(dog's name)

A girlfriends’ party idea is to get together and help each other write <humorous> letters to people who have gotten on your last nerve. You know, the company phone call that leaves you on hold for 45 minutes, the hairdresser that totally cut your hair the way you asked her NOT to, the pharmaceutical company that didn’t warn you about smelly urine as a side effect, etc. And while you all are writing and laughing, fix yourself a cocktail. We call it the Letter-writing Dog-Gone Cocktail.

Dog-Gone Cocktail

Stir in mixing glass with ice & strain:

1 oz gin

3/4 oz dry vermouth

3/4 oz sweet vermouth

2 dashes calisay

Add a cherry

Serve in a cocktail glass

Give Me All Your Eggs and No One Will Get Hurt

By Anna

“The grass is always greener in someone else's basket.”

I have a confession to make. I hunted eggs Easter week-end. Its true. A 30 year old grown woman running around the yard like her ass was on fire – just to collect plastic eggs. And I do this every year with my siblings. My mother gets some kind of sadistic delight in watching us push and shove each other - grabbing as many of those little fuckers as we can. Why do we humiliate ourselves in this way? Well, there’s money involved.

Weeks before the holiday we call each other and start trash-talkin’ about the loser who is going to find the egg with all the pennies. (My maniacal mother thinks it’s hilarious to put 100 pennies in one egg…. SURELY I was adopted.) We brag about our egg-hunting prowess and how we’ve been getting into shape for the big Hunt. We get our best running shoes ready. It’s ugly.

And we steal out of each other’s baskets. Well, it’s not exactly stealing. We simply trade an egg with crappy candy in it for one with money in it ….. when the owner of the basket isn’t looking. Over the years I’ve gotten really good at this. But my sister has a new secret weapon – her kids. After their hunt, she bribes them into distracting my brother and me so she can get an advantage. Egg-hogging bitch.

So all the egg-hunting frenzy this year got me to thinking about how women are always hunting for something – bargains, shoes, partners, the perfect purse, a more powerful vibrator…..

Why not have a girlfriends’ hunt? Create diva boxes with fun “prizes” and send your girlfriends ahuntin’! Use women-honoring affirmations or recycled jewelry or candy or anything worth hunting for. Have a fabulous time .… and try to be nice!