The Busyness of Life or Making Time for Life

I have been busy. We all have been busy. Doesn't mean that we are doing anything of high importance. It does mean that we are doing assigned and unassigned tasks that have repercussions if we don't get at it. 

I'm cranky. I'm just tired of rank and file bullshit. I need to bust out of my own personal L7 and rejuvenate.

What is that smell? Oh, yeah...have to attend to that.

How are you supposed to stop and smell the roses when they are ten miles across town in a special growing area that you have to pay $12.50 to walk around? It is worth it to walk around cultivated garden, and there is far more than roses. But you have to be willing to jump through hoops to be in nature.

I have this feeling of taking a trip. A small one. Just to do something different. Not going to be climbing walls or running in a barefoot marathon but a break from the clock punching cubicle bunny I seem to have evolved into.

Would love to hugs some trees. Or walk by the ocean. It isn't impossible. The woulda, coulda shouldas are catching up with me and I want to respect that time is moving on.

There isn't room to talk about what you want to do but do it or else.

And another thing, sitting in front of a computer isn't always a good thing. You need real life.
There are a whole bunch of people that have never experienced it without a communication device in their hands.

I know how to be with me.

Well, I use to.

I can do it. I'm sure. I think.


In other news, Episode 015 of the Anxiety Road Podcast his posted. This week I talk about the ACES Too High questions to help folks figure out if their childhood had a number of adverse conditions but the bulk of the show is about videos that talk about shame or provide resources to deal with shame.

Slowly getting comfortable with my voice. Couldn't do a dang thing about the airplane in the middle of the show. I tell you, Auphonic is the bomb diggity of audio cleaners. Meaning, they clean and I benefit.

Time for mindless entertainment. Busyness. More busyness.

Being Productive But Is It Enough?

On my list of things to do is to get back to implementing some of my ideas; writing more; blogging more; more laundry, more recreation, more study of the Dublin Core, more, more and more.

I just got a few more ideas I should work on. But first, a musical interlude from a video I recorded in 2012 and just now figured out how fixed the really bad errors and make it suck less. I uploaded the video only to find out that I have the wrong title to the song.

Being productive but my humanity is showing. It is all I can do to snatch it back. Which is what I had to do with this video. I heard the lyric as "be of service" when in fact the lyric is "mean old circus." It takes me 30 minutes to upload on this slow Mi-Fi connection. I rant and complain but I have yet to call the cable company to begin my bondage to hire priced Internet.

This is Gabby Moreno singing at Make Music Pasadena 2012 called Mean Old Circus



Where was I?

Oh, yeah oppressing myself with the woulda, coulda, shoulds.  Every Saturday I make a list of things I want to do. Every Sunday I take a look at the 15 item list and realize I only had time for 4 of them.

I am doing something. But not everything. Mentally I think should do everything. In reality I do what I can.

It is never enough. Which is a lie.

Be of service...

I have ideas that I think would be of service. That could help people. I think and then I think some more. Who are I to say? What are my credentials? Do I pass the sniff test?

It takes a while to fight that off mental shackles and point out to the not so little internal hater that if I saw somebody else doing this I would not continue. However, I don't see anyone doing this (my idea in this way) therefore I am free to experiment and take the plunge. 

In effect, I have to tell my not so little internal hater to STFU. This take more time than I would like it to but this is how you can lose a weekend.

The sucker is now playing the "yeah you thunk it but you haven't created it yet."

Pardon me while I make a demo video and proceed to bust a hater wide open.

Double Nickles and A Penny

Oh my. This is not a bad day. It is ok. I'm fine. It is just that I am older. Maybe a touch wiser but I don't feel any burst of wisdom. I need a couple of gallons of the stuff. I seem to get it in droplets.

A few days ago I turned my shoulders and felt this twang thing. It lasted but a second. I remembered it for hours. What did I do? Did I walk too much? Not enough? Maybe it is the potassium thing? Or the magnesium thing? Maybe I slept crooked?

Maybe it is "you need to keep your lips from any form of chocolate" thing?

What you not so old people need to know is that you will carry your 15, 30 and 45 year old person with you as you age. I still wanna do the Time Warp again. I was on the front lines of One Nation Under a Groove. I will always want to Shout and kick my heals up.




But there will be some days I just don't feel like it.  And that is ok. But on the days when I do want to Shout you should get out of my way and let me get to flapping. You can laugh at me but I am still here.

All of me.

More Lessons About Being Attunded to Your Body

On this day I have an wowser of an ow.  I was pushing my hand cart. There was a slight incline out of the store. All of the sudden my back let's out a scream. Never happened before. Never want pull a muscle again. 

I was suspended between a sharp pain and the need to get home. I'm doing the body inventory as cars whip past me. Decisions have to be made quickly.

I can stand? Yes.
I can walk? Yes.
Does it hurt? Oh yes.

There is a meditation technique where you acknowledge the pain but you don't feed into it. Slow deliberate steps. Gentle breathing out. Outlining where the pain is and isn't. Sending loving kindness to the areas that hurt and not cussing myself out that I tried to push too much stuff.

Walking actually helps reduce the pain but I'm not a big fan of pain in the first place.

So here I am. Home. In a chair trying to figure out my next move.

Last night I had old food in the fridge which is more like a chiller but not really. I had leftovers that should have been tossed.

No, it looks nothing like this. I'd love it if it did.

I ate them.

From midnight to 4:33 a.m. I regretted it deeply.

Only I made fast deliberate steps to the bathroom. Letting go at both ends. Trying to figure out what I did to get into this space. I got my answer around 2:30ish when I remembered that I need to pay more attention to my doubts.

Acceptance.

Not good at that either but getting better. I don't ask Spirit to take it away from me any longer. I just want to survive it so I don't do it again.

Trash bags are standing by.

Do Not Yell If You Are Losing Your Voice

I going on a four day head cold that has resulted in a strong desire for sleep and a very raspy voice. I am now talking in a whisper. During the day as long as I kept it in a whisper my lack of voice was just an annoyance.

Talking on the phone was a challenge but I pushed out enough air to be heard. Then I did something stupid.

I was trying to talk loudly into the phone so that the other person could here my incredulity of the situation. In my defense, I was responding to a stupid situation.

I can't tell you what it was though. But I can make up an example.

Customer: I want to buy a Porterhouse steak.
Service Person: We just sell meat.

Customer: I know, I've been here before. I want to get a well marbled Porterhouse steak.
Service Person: We just sell meat. If you want some one to help you with your purchase you can make an appointment between 11:59 and 12:00 noon and someone might be able to help you.

Customer: You mean to tell me that you cannot open the case pull out the slab of meat that I want, weight it, wrap it and give it to me?
Service Person: I shouldn't even be wasting my time talking to you. I'm just the greeter.

I blew a vocal gasket. It hurts. After the call, what was an annoyance became a throbbing pain in the neck.

I got two glands expanding in size like golf balls inside of my neck.

I got a sore though that has yet to forgive me even though I have treated it to hot tea, Tam Yam soup, cold Ginger Ale and quite possibly a road trip for some un-authorized consumption of ice cream.

I feel like a failure.

I make time to listen to podcasts like Buddhist Geeks. I have meditation music. Breathing music. Other podcasts that tell me to take the heat out of the situation and be a living light of dispassion for good.

Dag Gummed It. I'm in Spiritual Special Ed once again. 

Spiritual Special Ed can be faith based. Or not. It is more of a pang of recognition that you have been in this place before and you promised that from this point forward you would conduct yourself in a life positive affirming manner.

You make it out of SSE. You seem to be on the path. And then, when it is important, you forget what you know and go on anger and instinct before you can get near a reflective mode.

Naw, I'm not getting any ice cream. I don't deserve it and besides I don't think dairy is good for a  combo cold/throat situation.

So that is my lesson for today. And from the feel of it tomorrow too.

We Can't Be Invisibile Because We Are Here

They say that older women are ignored in America.That the societies focus is on the new and the long legged ample person who might be eighteen years old dripping wet. I still get that look from younger people in fear of I might talk to them.

At length.

Please. If I decided to talk to you it is either because I want to or have no choice in the matter. I was in the store the other day. I wanted to buy a microphone. The young person took me to the computer microphone section.

This is valid. I understand. This is a generation of Skype and social gaming.

I had to explain I needed the non-computer stand alone 3.5 mm or USB microphone.

In the explanation process I could see behind her eyeballs telling me to go away, I was messing with her flow. Then it clicked for her, "Oh, wait, yes we do have the other microphones."

The store was sold out.

It wasn't always this way. There wasn't necessarily this hostility in cross generational exchanges. If we are serious about telling our stories then we need to know the other.




This is Jude Narita. Long time theater actress and passionate about her craft. This is a moment from the Screen Adjustments panel at the Beyond The Bad and the Ugly summit that in March 2013.

Not every is new and there are people that know the path.

There are new ways of doing thing and not every old person is wise. This is why we have to share what we know so that we are clear on who we are and what we believe.

That cannot happen in isolation.

Walking Away From the Shadows

This is about changing a portion of my life. I do not want to be one of those people that complains that their lives have no meaning or that the circumstances of my life cannot be changed. I do not want to be that person but at times I have been that dark cloud.

I'm trying new things and approaches. I'm scared. I haven't done some of this stuff before.

I shouldn't be so vague. 

I have a day job. It is okay for a day job.

But it isn't what I want to do for the next couple of years. Well,  I could but my spirit is calling me to pay attention to what it wants. I have ignored that spirit for too long.

I can't do that. Nothing wrong with it if that is your choice. I just can't.

With libraries closing my time spent learning to be a library technician/paraprofessional has not exactly borne employment fruit.

Now I do I feel I have gotten a great return on my investment, no complaints. I have foundation skills on how to find information and a whole bunch of information resources. I have connections with really cool people.

Everything that I learned in my classes has helped me be a better writer. Not a grammarian, just the writing part.

I just can't get a library job that will financially support me because we in this nation have hostility towards education and librarianship. No one wants to pay for it or anything else to support the benefit of their communities.

Dumb ass clucks.

Yet, if I tried to save enough for a librarian degree I would still in an employment quandary after graduation.

I was faced with looking for another career option. Again.

So, what am I gonna do? 

That is a good question.

For a while I just numbed out and focused on the day job; the day job that I had intended on leaving. I had to find a way to make peace with that and it took a lot of time. Making peace with my anger that the world did not turn the way that I expected.

It never does. Stupid world.

I needed to look at what I do naturally and what I like to do. I  see a rise in the entrepreneurial educators or resource bloggers/educators. I am noticing that there are huge chasms of information/education that are not being service, documented or even discussed outside of academia and I not sure even there because they don't seem to have focused on changes in their marketplace.

What I am seeing doesn't have a proper name yet. Or I don't know it. 

I see opportunities in the shadows. This is a very good thing. Being able to see opportunities instead of the shadows. The suckers co-exist with each other and it takes a shift in perspective to move from one to another.

So for this year or however long it takes I'm going to be taking real world and on-line classes exploring how to create instructional and educational media. I will be traveling to places I've never been. I'm laying cash money on the line as a down payment on my commitment to go foward.

I am being open to the possibility that once I try this path I might find that is not what I though it to be. It might not be a good fit. That is okay. So long as I am in motion. So long as I am willing to try.

Once more into the breach.

The Places and Spaces In My Photos

I have been taking photos since I was thirteen. Sometimes it is a snap shot. I try to make quality prints. No, that isn't true. I try to be in the moment and take the photo. Very rarely is it print quality.

It tried to be great when I had my homemade darkroom.They still were snap shots but I gave it a go.

It was hard. The chemicals sometimes made it painful. That D-75 used to eat through my fingers something awful.

I didn't like tongs. 

After a few more prints I learned to use tongs.

There was a time when I gave up taking photos. Making prints. Taking snap shots. Looking at the world.

Part of it was the expense of it. It did cost money to do it on the cheap and that was the only way I could do it.

I was discouraged by a so-called teacher. Male. Worked very hard to get the undesirables out of his classroom. He was good at it.

Mostly it was the vision that I had didn't seem to mesh up with what the world was telling me was acceptable for women and black folk to do.

It beats you down after a while.

I wouldn't even pick up an Instamatic because I couldn't afford to have the film developed.  Yet I kept taking photos in my head.

I have to say that when the first glimmers of digital photography started to appear the stone around my heart started to crack. I laid eyes on that Kodak DS240 or something like it I knew I needed to get in on the action.

It took a while. A long while.

Stocked up on many a photo magazine in the meantime, getting ready.

Reclamation takes a while to kick in. I had to find out what this digital photo business was, did it involve darkrooms or enlargers?

No? Count me in.

I do actually like the darkroom process but no, I'm not going back.

So I take photos of people I've seen on TV. Or buildings. Or the chunk of hunk that is walking down the street. 

They no longer have to be perfect. Unless I want them to be. They are my memories of what I just saw as I move though this place called Southern California.

Not Saponaceous But Read the Label

Almost to the end of this journey. Didn't come out exactly as planned but writing and putting together the scattered parts into a cohesive piece is like that.



This is about the most asexual video you will ever see on the topic of personal lubrication. It is more of a reminder that product label type is really small. You might want to visit the vendor's web site for the ingredient list. But should you happen to go be going to the store plop in a magnifying glass or glasses.

The video is my humble attempt to explain why you may need them.

Not Saponaceous Choices and Considerations

This is just an introduction type post about personal lubrication for women over a certain age. I’m not a medical professional, sex expert or a working girl.

I am a person that wants to bring attention to an important issue that is in a choke hold between those that only see lubrication as a sex tool and medical people that try to strip every sexual noun and verb out of female health and sexuality issues.

Okay, now that we are clear that there are multiple reasons to use personal lubrication, such as hormonal changes, stress, a medical issue or, as I was reminded in the drugstore, lubes designed to help with conception.

A reminder, you are adding a substance to your body. You need to be aware that just because it is on a shelf in a drugstore or supermarket it doesn’t necessarily make it a safe product for you.  

Image from 1918 Gray's Anatomy from Wikimedia

My Biases

We all have them but I want to be clear on what my filter system is about items that go into the body. I lean toward natural, non-toxic and will do no harm to the body.

I wanted to say that because some of the choices in the stores are not safe or desirable to use. I’d really rather you didn’t pay cash for chemical cooties but that is a choice you have to make.

Yeah, I know, get on with it.

What You Don’t Want In A Lube

• Parabens – Industrial preservative.


• Glycerin – is a form of sugar. The vagina has bacteria. Sugar + bacteria + a warm environment? For those that do not bake the short answer is yeast. If you are prone to vaginal infections you might want to use Glycerin-Free type products.


• Petrochemicals – If any form of the ingredient can be found in a car engine, gas tank or derived from an oil refinery I’d take a pass at putting it your body.

Oil Lubes

Talk about tradition. One of the oldest forms of lubrication. I’m talking bear fat, butter, Crisco, and, ew, Petroleum Jelly. It is so much better in the now times.

You can do either natural or synthetic oils.

Natural oils can be based on nut and fruit oils such as Avocado, Almond or Olive Oil. You can raid the kitchen but in many drugstores there are oils in the hair and skincare isle that are specific formulated for massage and dry skin control. The are extremely affordable, like under $3 and contain one or two ingredients, the oil and maybe a fragrance.

There are other natural oils that you don’t necessarily want to apply to your lady bits such as Menthol, Eucalyptus, Peppermint or oils that are infused with perfume or irritants if you have sensitive skin.

Synthetic oils will be your petrochemicals such as Baby Oil, Mineral Oil, Petroleum Jelly and an alphabet soup of unpronounceable variations. Synthetic oils will be absorbed by the body and I’m not sure that you really want to ingest petroleum into your system.

The downside? You cannot use oils with Latex condoms. Oils can be runny. They can be messy.

In my opinion, oils might be better for external use on the clitoris as opposed to vaginal use.

Silicone Lubes

Silicone lubes can be formulated to have the texture and consistency users want. You apply it and it stays put. The problem is that it stays put, meaning that it could be a possible way for bacteria and infectious type matter to gain a path to your inners.

It does not quickly dissolve in water. And you can’t use silicone based sex toys with Silicone lubes, it will dissolve your investment. You have to make sure that the lube is removed from the vagina because of the risk of providing an environment for bacteria growth.

Water Based Lubes

Water lubes have water as the prominent ingredient; there is other stuff to help it gel up. If you have sensitive skin and are cautious about the other ingredients use this might be the way to go. Water lubes can dry out; a spritz of water is all you need to re-hydrate.

They are the most affordable of the three commercial types of lube but you gotta be on the look-out for the chemicals you don’t want.

Resources

A Woman’s Touch Guide on How to Choose A Lube

Good Vibrations Article on How To Choose A Lubricant

Everyday Health How to Choose A Lubricant

Not Saponaceous A Dip in the Water

This isn't about me showing off about what I know about lube. The point of these Saponaceous posts is to take this subject out of the medicine cabinet and into the realm of accessible information.




It seems that outside of the sex blog world there is no talk about a health product that also provides pleasure assistance. I don't want to diminish the sexual aspect of personal lubrication.

I'm not a sex educator but Shanna Katz is; in this video she talks about the use of water based lubrication products.

In the next post, I'll go into more detail about the types of lubes and best uses for each version of the product. I wanted to post this video to show that real women talk about sex products and resources.

Each one teach one.

Not Saponaceous Just the Facts

So, I have been meaning to write lubrication posts for months. First, I was going to test them out. It would have been a one sided test but I was game until the blues put a damper on my desire enter the laboratory.

Which is a lousy thing to have happen. If you are deep in the blues lube cannot help you. Moisturizers can’t fix everything.

Lubrication, moisturizer, lube. The language fails me so I guess I’m gonna use all three terms. This is probably a good time to define the terms. I’m not big on euphemisms for body parts.

I can say lady bits but I’m not saying that va jay jay business. I will use grown up words like clitoris and vulva and maybe some other stuff too.




A personal lubricant can be used to restore moisture to the vagina. Yes, there are lubricants for the anus but this isn’t about the anus this is about the vagina.

Lubricants have a use beyond sex play or pleasure enhancement. It can help to relieve vaginal dryness. There is more than one kind of dryness; topical where you just need a a temporary replenishment or it could be vaginal dryness caused by a medical condition.

You’ll need to speak with a health care provider if it is a medical problem.

What Happened?

For age related vaginal dryness it is the loss of estrogen. The vaginal walls are becoming thinner. Not as much moisture is working its way down the chute.

It could be stress; and peri-menopause is indeed a stressful event. It could be depression, anxiety or a number of emotional condition.

It could also be the stuff you use; the soap you bath in, certain shower gels, or so-called hygiene products.

Or it could be a combination of things that you will have to figure out.

If your you are experiencing vagina dryness because of age because of age, peri-menopause or menopause then a topical treatment might do you just fine.

Not Saponaceous 2013 The Pre-Ramble

The day before Valentine’s Day. My understanding is that Saint Valentine was not supposed to be getting it on with the Sister down the road. Or Brother cuz I do want to be inclusive. He probably didn't. I couldn't really say, never met the man.

Spiritually or corporeally when you get it on, or get down or make with the bangity bang bang you sometimes need a bit of assistance. I have a lot of assistance.

About a year ago I noticed how much lubrication product I had in my possession. Lest you think I am having Roscoe Palmer over on Friday nights, the lube in question came from my attendance at BlogHer and other women attended conferences.

Swag can be good and good for you. Meaning it is water based and not the Silicone stuff. But I’m getting a head of the story Yes, women should stock up on non-petrochemical lube.

For the next few posts it is gonna be about lubrication. The personal type used by humans.

Which now leads me to explain the title of this post. Saponaceous means fat or greasy. Which is what most of us do not want in a personal product. Saponaceous has a wonderful mouth sound when you say it.
 

I know full well if I put lube or lubrication in the title I'm going to have visitors. And some of them are gonna be bummed out because there will be no nekkid people. Or really explicit talk.


Or I'll get invitations to certain sites with offers to hook up with certain kinds of services. Can I say no thank you in advance?

I want to tear down the information wall but I'm not a sex blogger. I write about sex sometimes because it interest me. I am still human.  I can prove it.

I smile when I think about that Zardoz photo. Hell, why deprive myself; it is my blog:

Seriously, it never gets old for me. Love those boots.

Ahem.

Real people do talk about sex and health issues. Personal lubrication is a sex AND health issue that needs to be talked about with like minded souls. Souls that experiencing the life change and are finding out that it can be uncomfortable to move or be moved.

I'm talking about walking but other movements as well.

There is a point to this, I swear. 

Peri-menopause changes your body. You are in freaking free fall and yet you are expected to carry on and pretend that everything is okie-dokie. It is not.

And when you land in Menopause then you have to learn how to deal with this new body that ain’t exactly like the old one you had before but looks like it.

There will be videos. There will be places I'll recommend to visit. There will be thoughts. Maybe a podcast recommendation or two to help inspire you to appreciate and apply auditory and tactile transmedia experiences.

Not sure about that one; I'm picky about what I put in my ears as well as my body.


I feel nervous so this must be a good thing to do.

Onward.

Yesterday I Met A Women With Blue Tip Hair

She had sparkle blue finger nails and blue crocs. The words came gushing out like a faucet about how she was homeless for a couple of years and now she is not.

How she picks the wrong men because they are exciting but regrets it afterwards cuz they are nuts, and have, in her much cleaned up words, small equipment. How 67 is not too old for Bestey Johnson attire.

There was a lot more but you get the drift. This is a woman with a life that is parked to the side.


I am reminded that all forms of crazy are not bad. Life is to be lived and not always suffered through.

There has got to be some fun and joy in it or damnation what is the point?

I met a Debbie Downer days earlier and there is toxicity in communicating with people like that; everything is lousy, everything is rigged, there is no hope only compliance.

Blah.

I was thinking about Madam Blue as I was going through my day at the Salt Mine. I was seeing my own constrictions of L7.

I grow tired of wearing the mask of conformity yet I'll never get tired of having a roof over my head. Not proud of myself but I understand why I am doing what I am doing.

I also keep reminding myself that I will be back in the wild, one way or another.

Transition or Jump?

It is my choice.

I Know What A Rutabaga Is Dang It!

I am encountering people perceiving me as less than competent when my grey hair is exposed.

That I am no spring chicken.
That I am nearing my expiration date in terms of my opinions and social relevance.
That I am out of shape and it is too late to do anything about it.
That I have instantly become daft.

I was in the supermarket. I bought rutabagas.  Not turnips.

At checkout, the young man is looking up the vegetable he can enter the right code. I tell him it is a rutabaga.

"No, it is a turnip."

"It is a rutabega," I repeat.

"No, it's a turnip."

Now I could have stood in a busy supermarket arguing the point but I have learned that there are certain things your should not fight to the end of the line.

I could have yanked his behind over to the vegetable section where someone had put a sign that said rutabegas. I could have pulled out my smartphone and spent five minutes searching for a mobile photo of a rutabega.

No, I let the boy child ring it up as he pleased.

Let the record show that I know my vegetables and I did indeed buy a yellow rutabega.

Yes, I know that in some parts of the country both items are called the same things.

Not the point.

He judged the vegetable by the purple banding.
They are not quite the same, rutabages have a very strong taste.

We judge people by the externals.

This is not right.

How Do You Explain Zardoz?

I didn't see the movie Zardoz when it was first released in 1974. I was deep in to Funkology 101 and although this movie was trippy my concerns were elsewhere. It is a challenging movie to try to explain.

I've been watching reviews of the movie by under 40 years of age people. With one exception most are straight up baffled and perplexed that such a movie was made.



If you have never seen the movie this is a three minute trailer. This is about as coherent as the movie gets. Personally, I deeply enjoy a man wearing a red tie-on diaper and thigh-high boots. The chest hair is an added bonus.
 
I'm not kidding. For me, seeing Sir Sean in that outfit is like payback for all the years I was subjected to photos of Raquel Welch standing crooked in the sand and Sophia Loren coming out of the water soaking wet.

I...um..yeah.

The movie, must focus on the movie.

What is it about? Well it is set in the future when the shizz is on the other side of the fan. You got grown men worshiping a giant rock who spews out guns to kill people known as the infestation.

You have a group of elite folks that live good and have powers but do nothing to help the poor bastards getting shot because the rock tells the men folks to kill.

The rock goes into no details about the fellas not using their joysticks.

You got pillaging. You have penises forcing themselves on any stray woman that they encounter.

You have Charlotte Ramping trying to invoke a science experiment. She is trying to get Sir Sean eroticized by showing him a video of women wrestling in mud.

You got old people. You got Apathetics. You have Sean licking some dudes hand. Crystals. Naked folks. Death.

Okay. I'm not doing a good job.

You could say it is an allegory on the faith hypocrisy of human beings, saying one thing and doing another. That everything is a contradiction because there are no rules. There isn't anyone in charge. There are Apathetics in degrees of consciousness. 

You could say this was a movie designed for people in late 1974 to watch in an altered state of being. Meaning, that when people could smoke in a movie theater they would "smoke.' If you were in the balcony of certain theaters and seated with a community of like minded souls you saw a whole different movie than if you watched straight.

This is one of the few movies that viewers could benefit from a good glass of wine, hard cider or three shots of Southern Comfort. Don't waste time on the cheap stuff. You need fortification to make it to the end.

For those of you on abstinence or working a program I would say have some of you favorite foods or a good blanket to make yourself comfortable. It is a mind trip but remember; this time it really is the movie.

This is not a great movie. This is not necessarily a good movie. It isn't an out and out howler of a bad movie.

It is on that precious border line just shy of an functional Edward G. Wood movie. Zardoz had money. The budget was good, the sets were believable.

The story? There had to be an original source but what was done to it I do not know. If this wasn't the author's intent then somebody got rooked.

The script?  Technically there had to be one.

I would say that if you get the opportunity to watch the movie on a cold rain soaked night in bed you should certainly do so.

I would ask that you lower your expectations. Being open to what you see but don't try to make sense of it. It is not possible. Many have tried and have wept in tears from the pain.

Me, I might see the whole thing again one day. But then again, seeing it once can last a good long while.

The Pain of Creating and Cleaning on Thanksgiving

Being a cubical bunny does not leave a lot of time for creativity. Nor does it leave a lot of time for advanced household maintenance. One of the reasons I like Thanksgiving is that I get serious me time.

I made a list. 20+ items that I want to complete by Sunday. I was digging for my Earthquake kit. Yes, I have one. You should too. Even if you don't currently find yourself in earthquake territory.

Like I said,  I was digging for my Earthquake kit and I found my electric screwdriver. I've been passively looking for that thing for months.

Then I notice the curtain that should be replaced. And the curtain by the window waiting for me to replace the icky one for the nicer one.

I stand on what I thought was a solid cabinet. It wasn't. I crash through to the bottom of the cabinet. My heart suspends. My brain goes to evaluation mode.

Leg broken? No.
Foot broken? No.
Toe broken? No.
Toe hurts like hell? Oh yes.

I truly take a moment to be grateful I haven't broken any body part on Thanksgiving. Because to have the paramedic ambulance come to your door is at least $995 to start.

Not that I could have gotten to the front door.

I am now sitting in a chair nursing and icing an angry toe. I am grateful.

But it hurts.

I don't do pain well. I avoid it as much as possible. Will now commence to dig for ibuprofen.

I will resume the search for the Earthquake kit. I might find the missing iPod Nano that I lost a year ago. See, the way this works is that I look for one thing and find five others items.

It is way better than Black Friday shopping because I already know that I want it.

I have to say I'm not as gung ho as I was about this cleaning thing. My back-up plan was to stay in bed watching DVDs.

Hmm. Nope, I'll brace up and finish what I started.

I have too. The bed is covered with the other stuff that I moved to find the screwdriver.

It is gonna be a long day.

A Few Words on Depression

It sucks. There is the clinical kind depression and the environmental kind of depression.

They both suck.

I'd elaborate more but I'd come to the same conclusion.

Let's just say that when you hear some person tell someone to snap out of being depressed understand that human does not have a clue of what he or she is saying.

Some times you get lost. You have to find your way out. That takes time. Or medication. Or an inspirational word, song or movie.

Sunlight.

Motion.

There is no one way out. There is no snapping.

We are not light fixtures.

We are human.

Light Up the Lady Bits Before It is Outlawed

When I did watch terrestrial television there the advertisement of that goofball with the giant grin would be ever present on the dial. So proud he was of stretching his tighty whiteys. 

The commercials were not exactly crude. Just a nudge and a wink to sell natural herbal kickstarters to juice up the male vascular system. No, I am not going to type the names. You know the names by heart.

Y'all know that for the past couple of years I've been advocating, quietly, to stock up on the toys and enjoyments of a female sensual nature.  It is not all I do or write about. It is a part of my life.

And your life too.

It isn't just me, there are a lot of bloggers ages advocating for healthy sexual expression (however you define it) or non-expression. It is a matter of choice. Of options to explore.

I use to think so. Until this week.

Cuz I didn't figure on the high number of biologically ignorant and stupid grown men who do not have a clue about basic biology. Men in  political power who are busy trying to legislate our control over our bodies.

Or the other ones, that think our bodies are a switch. I read something about a woman whose husband watches sports as soon as he comes home. The man does little to communicate with her during the week.

Come Saturday night he wants the bango-bango like it is his blood right.  Not the first time I heard about this and it won't be the last. Selfish brains wrapped up in a living body bag.

Enough about them. This is about us. This is a short video from Zestra using a bus analogy to why some women need a little help when they want to get busy.



I haven't used Zestra. I think I'm gonna check it out. But when I went to look at the web site video page I saw that the video viewing numbers were kinda low. Part of the reason is that they cannot get their commercials aired on broadcast and cable television.

Because broadcasters do not want to advertise a product that advocates women's active sexuality.  There is something wrong about that. But since the dinosaur of old school TV is on its way out I ain't gonna grieve all that much.

Here is the thing. I do want women to warm up their lady bits with healthy options. Like I said, I gotta test this out but more than that I want more women talking about the sexuality in our own terms.

Yes, we truly need to beat back that ignorant ish that is being pumped as taking our country back to a period of repression. 

Sexuality should not be a pain inflicting weapon (except for y'all into BDSM culture.) but the dominion of broadcasters or, more to the point, those that are casting the wishes of broads aside, needs to be broken.

Chip, chip chip away. Take them down. One way is to look at the videos.

Tell a friend. Discuss. If you buy the Zestra oil apply liberally or conservatively as your nature dictates.

My 2nd Disclaimer of the Week

Not a paid shill. I received an offer to try out a sample. I haven't decided if I will do that or just go out and buy the oil. I do want to advocate for sexual expression particularly for midlife women.  That is why I put up the post and the videos.

The Older Women In the Room

Well that title will scare off a bunch of people. I know my gray hair did at the conference. But that isn't the whole story. I want to tell the whole truth. I was in transit when I heard that President Obama would speak at BlogHer.

Once I got settled into the hotel, I went to a Duane Reed drugstore and bought hair dye. I was not going to be in that ballroom with the President without flashing some reddish hair. I was going to do it. Until I realized that there was no way for me to clean up hair dye in a hotel room.

I wished I had worked this out before spending $9 on Natural Instincts. Or getting the fact straight that he was doing a live video presentation from the White House.

Still, Little Miss Aging Affirmative got stuck in the hoopla of appearance phobia.

Then I went the other way. Washed and picked out my natural hair. It is gray and brown and dark brown and whatever else ancestor want to put a word in. to the mix.



It was like I opened a can of Raid or something. My friends and on-line acquaintances that knew me embraced me like a long lost friend. Newbies and those women under a certain age kept their distance.

There is a reason for that, check out the video.

I walked a lot in New York City. I saw many a woman stroll down the street styled perfectly. Young, old, trendy. They were wearing the perfection suit of invisibility. Attractive enough to approach but only if you could reach the bar of acceptance.



Time and living have raised the bar on me and I didn't know. Or want to know. I kept on walking and looking at the images of Park Avenue mannequins, the ones in the window. Alabaster white, sleek and implacable in the seller's point of view.

To be fair, there were some onyx mannequins that did little more than hold up the status of tight clothes on young ridged bodies.



Brand identity and storytelling they call it. But it leaves a lot of people out of the narrative.

My bodies story isn't being told. This is not acceptable. Really, it is not.

The video clips are excerpts from my recording of the Blogging Into MidLife session at BlogHer 2012 NYC.

Ann Dunnewold writes about aging issues on her blog at VibrantNation.com
Darryle Pollack blogs at http://blog.darrylepollack.com
Patricia Patton hangs her shingle at http://www.boomerwizdom.com

I'm working on uploading the full session, hope to have it up soon.