Monday, November 30, 2009

Us




They made a statue of us
And it put it on a mountaintop
Now tourists come and stare at us
Blow bubbles with their gum
Take photographs, have fun
- Regina Spektor

According to Wikipedia, "The music video is a parody of Georges Méliès's silent film, Le Locataire Diabolique (1909), in which a man rents an apartment and furnishes it by unpacking objects from his trunk in the same fashion Spektor does in Us."  It is in stop-action animation and quite wonderful to view; a link to it follows:


~~~

Hmm...I think I'm going to wander over to Netflix now to see if they offer the Méliès film.

He Remembered!

I know that paralegal work is hardly my calling in life and I fully intend to proceed with applications to grad school in library science once this economy lets up, but in the interim I sure do enjoy working with my boss. He is simply a pleasure. 

To illustrate his thoughtfulness, when I walked into my office this morning I happily found Malcolm Gladwell’s Outliers laying on my chair and a note from him saying, “Jen: Enjoy.” I certainly will, Dave, I most certainly will!

Om shanti <3

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Holiday Mixed Bag

The Good News--
I concocted a successful candied yam dish that my cousin, who is said to be a talented cook, stated was the best he'd ever tasted.  My secret was the freshly grated ginger root.  Nicely complimented the brown sugar, I think.

Also, my mother, in her infinite wisdom, requested that no one bring up Kenny to me, unless I mentioned him first.  I learned of her direction later, while happily commenting on the fact that I didn't have to eat anyone [see "Thanksgiving Imagined"].

Lastly, I very much enjoyed visiting with my family.

And Now For The Bad--
One of my uncles (not a blood relation) is a total dickhead.  Let me explain.  He has a reputation with the family for being a willfully insensitive, coarse-speaking, shallow-minded, egoist.  He seems to think that because he has money, he has value. 

It is our family tradition to gather before the Thanksgiving meal and formally give thanks.  Each person fills out a small brightly colored card, which has pre-inscribed at the top "I am thankful for...".  It is requested that at least four things be listed, but more is acceptable, if not encouraged.  Then all of the cards are gathered and placed in a basket from which each person, in turn, randomly selects a card and reads it aloud.  The others try to guess who gave the thanks.  (Some cards are easy to discern: "I'm grateful for the Cards beating the Cubs in the playoffs" - obviously, Tim.  "I'm grateful for my good looks" - yeah, Chris.  And so forth...)

I am a person who likes giving thanks.  For my part, I joyfully compiled a playful list of things I am sincerely grateful for concluding with "...my birdie friends, cheese, potatoes, and booze!"  Everyone placed their respective cards in the basket and we read through them until only one card remained and only one person remained to read it.  To be more specific, my card remained and the previously mentioned dickhead was the one to read it.  Unfortunately, my card was not even read, really, because he started babbling in a baby voice the moment he opened his mouth.

Apparently, Uncle Dickhead didn't want to give thanks and this was his method of protest.  I knew he would pull something like this, so I started heartily clapping my hands, signaling that it was time to move on to dinner, as he trailed off from his little stunt (few knew that the card was mine or what he had "read" from it, since he was largely unintelligible).  In the shuffle that followed, his oldest son snatched the card from his hand and attempted to read it properly, but by that point, the attention of the family was on the upcoming Thanksgiving meal.

There is something patently fucked up about mocking another person's sincere expression of gratitude (on Thanksgiving, no less).  I am loath to give him the satisfaction, but the whole experience ruined my holiday meal.  That night, I told him exactly what I thought of him, with some other relatives in witness, but not a soul stopped me or admonished me for being disrespectful.  They all seemed perfectly content to see him put in his place.  This isn't the first time he has attempted to spoil an otherwise pleasant occassion.  If only he would just never come to St. Louis again.  He doesn't like us and we don't like him either.  Next year, stay home by yourself, you crochity old curmudgeon.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Without Boundaries

My neighborhood is stuffed to the brim with outdoor felines; some of whom are strays, some of whom are not.  One such cat belongs to my downstairs neighbors.  They remind me of The Herdmans, the out-of-control family featured in The Best Christmas Pageant Ever.  They aren't ill-intentioned people; they simply don't seem to have enough money or space or time to care for their animals (they have at least two dogs who live in their small apartment, in addition to the cat).

This cat is a striking, female, "true" Calico with bright green eyes.  She is a total sweetheart and very affectionate.  So much so, that when she hears me arrive in my manual, she will come to meet me and then follow me up the three flights of fire-escape stairs to my apartment.  In warm weather, she will put her little paws up on my back screen door and meow at me to let her in.  Of course, I do not allow her free entry because I don't want to infringe on the rights of her actual owners, as neglectful as they may seem to be.

Tonight, Little Miss Calico (LMC) followed me up to my apartment, as is her wont.  As she began to climb the last staircase, the cat who lives next door to me (a large, orange, indoor/outdoor tomcat) uttered a low growl and moved to guard the top of the flight.  I warned LMC to head back downstairs so that she could avoid a fight.  She kind of looked up at me and then defiantly moved toward the tom's food dish.  I tried again to dissuade her, but she continued to pay me no heed, so I went inside and left my door ajar, in anticipation of the fight.

Sure enough, I hear two cats angrily yowling not long thereafter.  I immediately rush outside, but my next door neighbor is already out trying to corral the cats away from each other.  My neighbor tells me that she thinks that, if LMC were spayed, this might not be so much of an issue.  She explains that she would keep the cat herself during her recovery period but that the tomcat won't have it.  She asks if I would be willing to care for LMC while the stitches heal.  I tell her that is fine by me, but won't the owners care?  She responds that she has kept LMC for several days at a time in her apartment during rainy weather (prior to the tomcat living there) and LMC's owners didn't seem to care or notice her absence.  So we exchanged phone numbers and my neighbor will contact me after the appointment is set.

I'm worried about this arrangement.  It really isn't my place to collude with the neighbor and have this family's cat spayed.  However, the neighbor lady in question is the real caretaker of this animal.  If not for my next door neighbor, LMC would be skin and bones (which is the state she was in prior to my neighbor leaving extra food outside for her).  It is my feeling that if we don't take care of LMC, who will?  I'd like to ask my downstairs neighbors for their permission, but they are intimidating folk.  They've been nothing but polite to me, but I've heard some of their skirmishes with others and I do NOT want to be on their bad sides.  In short, they seem to be some bad motherfuckers.

What to do???  My instinct tells me to do what is best for the cat's safety and to throw caution to the wind, but I'm afraid of the repercussions.  I also fear that I might be doing something unethical.  Any thoughts?

The Real Secret of Feminism

http://www.slate.com/id/2236281/pagenum/all/#p2

This looks like a really great book!  If only I had some cash...

Monday, November 23, 2009

Malcolm Gladwell Makes Me Happy

Or, at least, I think he does...



http://www.ted.com/talks/malcolm_gladwell_on_spaghetti_sauce.html

Great Skills

Nunchaku skills... bowhunting skills... computer hacking skills... 

My mother had the hardware removed from her hand this afternoon.  She was so petrified about the upcoming procedure that she "got a little weepy" with her anesthesiologist beforehand.  In an effort to take her mind off of her troubles, he started cracking jokes with her, a la Napoleon Dynamite.  He told Mom that he didn't want to see her back in his operating room again, on account of her "great rollerblading skills."  On a side note, due to her fierceness, my mom was nicknamed Dynamite by her grandfather when she was a little girl.  Somehow, that made their conversation all the more fitting :)

Also, while the surgeon had my mom opened up, she stretched Mom's tendons in the injured fingers, just to be sure that everything was still functioning properly and that atrophy wouldn't be an issue.  Mom said that even while under general anesthesia, she still felt that pain.  *grimace*  Hopefully, this will all be over soon!

Om shanti, Momma <3

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Thanksgiving Imagined

I see myself entering my aunt's home.  My prodigious Irish Catholic family has already begun drinking.  They are everywhere, permeating the rooms, cracking jokes, arguing, cooking, eating, chatting, playing games.

Heads turn toward me, hugs are had, comments are made about my body (either about my breasts or my weight or my hair--take your pick).  I smile graciously and try not to start spouting off feminist theory regarding body image.  My grandmother, wine glass in hand, saunters over, takes a sip of her port and smiles.

Honey, where is Kenny at? Is he coming later? Is it true that you two have broken up?

*GULP*

I swallow my grandmother in one bite.  I eat her whole.  I am The Big Bad Wolf and I am ravenous.

Next, my wealthy aunt approaches with her perky tennis bum, a colorful silk scarf wrapped around her neck, and tanned skin (just returned from another vacation, evidently).

Darling, will we be seeing Kenny today? I've been meaning to ask him about--

*GULP*

Another relative down the throat.

From room to room I move, I eat, I smile graciously.

Soon none but my youngest cousin and I remain.  Innocently, she draws near...

Jen, where is everyone? Have you seen K--

*GULP*

Mmmm...the holidays as a single girl. I. can. not. wait.

How about this guy?


Think I could learn something from him?

He looks like a badass...

Might hurt myself.

Might be worth it...

A Rip in the Sky

Before yoga class began last night, there was some idle talk about the weather.  In response to a comment regarding the torrent of rain we’ve received lately, I complained that I am going absolutely mad without the sun.  Sherry matter-of-factly returned:

The sun is still there.  Sometimes when I meditate, I like to imagine myself flying up over the clouds into the sunlight.

At the time, I thought to myself, “Remember that, Jen.  It might be a useful meditation for you, too.”  The notion of being bathed in sunrays with cotton candy clouds abound deeply appeals to me (needless to say, I adore plane rides!).

However, me being me, I promptly forgot the conversation not very long thereafter.

~~~

A moment ago, as I was grabbing something from a filing cabinet, I glanced out my window at the sky.  Directly above me was a minuscule crack in the cloud cover; from my vantage point, the sliver appeared to be the approximate size and shape of a school bus.  Sunlight sprung through the crack in glinting stripes of vivid white and yellow against the grey molted sky.   Peaking through the center was yawning cerulean nirvana.

It seems that the heavens wanted to remind me of something this morning.

Mighty glad that they did, too :)

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Dolphin to Peacock to Scorpion

In class tonight we started work on Scorpion Pose.  To begin, you come into Dolphin Pose (Advadanta Sirsasana) -- your back is facing the wall and your finger tips are about ten inches away from it.


Dolphin

Then you kick your legs up to the wall and come into Peacock Pose (Mayurasana).


Peacock

From there, you walk your legs down the wall into Scorpion Pose (Vrschikasana).



Scorpion

Three students attended class this evening (including myself).  Of the students, only one (not me) was able to go into Scorpion.  However, I was able to kick up into Peacock, which was a great triumph b/c I have been attempting to kick up into Handstand for months.  I was beginning to despair that I was incapable of a kick-up.  Now that I've demonstrated that I can execute this move into Peacock, it provides me with the encouragement and hope that I might one day be able to kick into Handstand, as well.

Another galvanizing insight discovered while working on this series of poses is what I like to facetiously call "the secret to my home practice."  When attempting Handstand at home, I could never get the full activation of my core muscles that I was looking for.  It always felt like I had a whole lotta nothing happening in and around my abdomen.

As I was discussing this issue with Sherry tonight, she made the superb point that, since I am up against the wall and my body is not perpendicular to the floor, my lower back ends up in a slight backbend.  The backbend is what is preventing me from activating my core appropriately.  Therefore, Sherry recommended that I practice Peacock with my belly facing the wall.  This will allow me to master coming away from the wall without worrying about losing my balance and crashing to the floor.  Instead, if I lose my balance, I'll just bump back into the wall and then I can try again.  Also, this will help me to cultivate that core strength and balance I seek while in an inversion!

Very, very exciting developments!!

Om shanti <3

Monday, November 16, 2009

Mélange

Some things of note that happened over the weekend -- 

1)  Biked w/ Julia Rose both days - I strongly suspect that I have developed a tush contusion resembling the shape of my bike seat;

2)  Taught a number of tedious yet somewhat engaging algebra lessons;

3)  Procured and ingested Plan B in the wee hours of the morning (still reeling from the massive dose of hormones therein);

4)  Enjoyed time w/ an old friend and watched The Wizard of Oz;

5)  Committed to being able to do a "real" push-up in the next two weeks (my father has provided me with a fool proof plan [famous last words, huh?] to achieve this goal);

6)  Spoke on the phone with my best friend for approx. four consecutive hours (that is how I like her--straight up!);

7)  Given several long-stemmed roses (red, white, and purple) by a generous and affectionate child;

8)  Accomplished a long and sweet home yoga practice;

9)  Discovered the thought-provoking Penn Says series on YouTube--the palatablity of his libertarian viewpoint is obsessing me; and

10)  Drank two luscious milkshakes.

Not too bad of a weekend, considering (see #3 above)...

Friday, November 13, 2009

It isn't enough to demolish the earth...

we intend to pulverize the moon, as well.  If you haven't been kept apprised, in October the US shot a 2,200kg Centaur rocket (about the size of an automobile) into the moon, which was pretty disturbing for me, because (a) who gave the United States permission to blow up the moon?  I'm fairly certain that other countries, even our own citizens, might wish to weigh in on that decision and (b) do we really understand what sort of an impact this will have on our own fragile ecosystem, one that is effected by the moon right down to our oceans' tides?  In addition, there is the symbolic trouble of decimating the moon--what with it representing feminine energy and all; kinda looks bad when the US wants to annihilate woman, but I digress...

Well, turns out that the moon contains "copious quantities of water vapour."  No shit.  If we can set aside for a moment my outrage regarding our hubris in taking such an action, I will readily concede that the results of NASA's experiment are downright incredible and certainly nifty-difty indeed!  I can hardly conceive of the possibility of such a thing.  I was taught that the moon couldn't contain water b/c there was no atmosphere to prevent the water from absconding off into deep space.  Clearly, I was misinformed.  According to what I've read today, it has long been theorized that water could have been stored under the cooler parts of the moon's surface and. we. found. some.  Not just some, but tons of it.  I'm gonna need a minute to process this...

Got it.  Okay, back to my outrage.  Listen to this--
Peter Schultz, from Brown University and a co-investigator on the LCROSS mission, said: "What's really exciting is we've only hit one spot. It's kind of like when you're drilling for oil. Once you find it in one place, there's a greater chance you'll find more nearby." - as reported by the BBC

I hate to be the voice of reason, here, but HAVE WE LEARNED NOTHING FROM OUR PAST?!  Uh, didn't drilling for oil cause us a bunch of fucking environmental issues here on earth?  Isn't it one of the main reasons that our planet's climate is being thrown into what may be a irreversible tailspin?  

Evidently, we need to fuck up everything we get our slimy little intelligent fingers on.  What's next?  Mars?  The sun?  Our whole damned solar system?!

We disgust me.  Really we do.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Just when I thought Penn Jillette couldn't get any sexier...

I learned that he invented (well, patented) the Jill-Jet.  NOW, I see the therapeutic benefit of hot tubs.

On a side note, the story goes that the idea first came up while he was chatting with Debbie Harry of Blondie in the hot tub.

Call me call me any anytime...

A (very) short history of the US health insurance industry

In response to Marcia Angell, the medical doctor, Harvard lecturer, and former editor of The New England Journal of Medicine, whose criticism of the House health care reform bill included the statement that the bill is not better than nothing b/c, "it simply throws more money into a dysfunctional and unsustainable system, with only a few improvements at the edges, and it augments the central role of the investor-owned insurance industry," I wanted to share with you an excerpt from a recent NPR program on this topic [see end of this post for a link to the full story].  What follows is a brief history of America's health insurance industry:

Mr. NICHOLS: Well, no and what's fascinating is to think about, in particular, the history of health insurance. Originally, around the time of the turn of the century and a little bit later, most private insurers - well, all private insurers, eschewed health insurance. They were afraid they could never distinguish between the sick and the healthy. And therefore, they were afraid that only the sick would buy. So, they refused to sell it.

The Blue Cross Blue Shield organizations were created out of desperation about the time of The Great Depression...In fact, the first observation that sort of triggered their inspiration, was when school teachers couldn't afford normal delivery - couldn't afford to pay for a baby being born out of their normal accumulated savings. They realized we had to do something about the cost of health care. So, they had the idea of pulling together, across the entire community  (again, a very communitarian original impulse);  have everyone, or at least most people, buy into it and charge them all the same rate; and then they would be covered for their health needs in the hospital.

Initially, physicians opposed that; they had thought it was socialism, as usual. But then they figured out, "wait, hospitals are being paid and we're not." So, the doctors formed their own.  The hospitals made Blue Cross. The doctors made Blue Shield. They put them together. They were always organized as a non-profit, chartered by the individual states.  That's why they were originally 50, and in fact more - a few states have more than one.

And that's what health insurance was until the commercials figured out, "Hey, those Blue Cross guys have figured how to make money. They figured out how to at least break even on this stuff. We can go in there and sell to the healthy and discriminate against the sick, charge the healthy a little bit less than the average priced Blue Cross is charging, and we'll make out like bandits."  And that's really when the insurance market became, I would say, beginning down the road of being dysfunctional.
....
CALLER: Enjoying the show. And I think it was Mr. Nichols who just addressed the main part of my talk about the insurance companies picking people off, basically. I'm in the investment business and, frankly, I like insurance companies as a business. So what I was going to comment on, or point out, is that if the object of a profit-making business - which all these companies are - is to pick off the 50 percent of the population that only spends five percent of the health care dollars and you can make out like a bandit. That's basically why they don't like universal coverage, but the whole idea of insurance is that you form a big pool and then you can sort things out.

If you want to hear more of this NPR story, which I think is one of the more elucidating discussions of this topic out there, here is a link--
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=120174337

If you ask me, the Republicans are just plain wrong on this one.  Socialized health care is the only form of health insurance that will be effective for the whole population, in the long term, because of the very nature of the beast, as evidenced by the history cited above.  The reason Republicans are fighting this reform effort is because the health insurance industry produces massive profit for investors.  This money drives our economy.  This money funds politicians' campaigns.  This industry creates jobs.  Not only that, but this industry also generates effortless and reliable income for the investor class, the folks who most obviously rule this country. 

Granted, many people are dying (some of them horribly), as a result of the profit-driven health insurance industry but, hey, this is America.  We are nothing, if not Capitalists.   And if you don't think Capitalism has an ugly side, as ugly as the widespread famines that arose out of Communism, you are fucking kidding yourself.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

My Crush

I'll probably write more about Colin McGinn later, but for the time being, I want to share a link to his blog:
http://mcginn.philospot.com/

<3 <3 <3

Jen <3 Colin.


<3 <3 <3

Okay, enough of this silliness! I've got actual to work to do.

Growl

I must have awoke on the proverbial wrong side of the bed this morning 'cause I'm not coping too well with unexpected losses recently. To be more specific--

1) I’ve lost any semblance of faith in God/"a higher power."  When this realization first occurred to me Saturday night--or when I first consciously noticed the occurrence--the feeling was exhilarating and empowering. Today, it has dawned on me that I'm suffering from what could only be described as a hang-over, following my little power trip. [More on this pet topic (specifically anti-theism and spiritual relativism) when I can find the time.]

2) I’ve lost my lover for the second time. Implications are obvious--especially given the resurgence of my libido.

3) I’ve lost the sun (or, at least, direct sunlight). A-ha! You know, the Hindus (probably others, too) think of the sun as a masculine energy, as do many think of God in the masculine, as was my lover masculine *wimpers*

It looks as if I am suffering from a lack of outside masculinity at the moment. A funny little irony given my feministic world view. Real funny.

Grrrr.....

Monday, November 9, 2009

Gird Your Loins, People...


'cause these photos are terrible to behold--







Oh, you've guessed right. These are photos of my pitiable mother's injured hand. She is responsible for cleaning this wretched contraption daily and, after 10 days of this, she still hasn't gotten comfortable with the process (and who could blame her, really!). She turns enormously pale as she is engaged in cleaning the wounds. It is simple to discern that she dreads the prospect. Most of the day, she keeps a gauze-like covering on the cage, so that she doesn't have to look at it any longer than absolutely necessary.

In addition, Mom is in such incredible pain that she cries fairly regularly over this injury. (Keep in mind, my mother has such a high pain tolerance that when she fractured her wrist in two places, she didn't even go to the hospital until the next day!) And to add insult to injury, she can't sleep properly, as a result of the fear that she might accidently roll over the thing and rip a finger off or something of that nature.

Mom is slated to have the cage in place for another four weeks approximately.  She recently returned to the doctor for an adjustment and took a bit of solace in an amputee's plight, who was also scheduled for an appointment that day (I believe her thinking was along the lines of, "at least I still HAVE my fingers--rotten and mutilated as they may be..."). The patient in question had apparently severed multiple fingers in a saw-related accident. I shamelessly asked her, "So, are you saying that he fought the saw and the saw won?" At least that got a little giggle out of her.

Poor poor Mommason.

Friday, November 6, 2009

Jesus IS better than heroin

I will give the Christians that much. Being a Christian sure beats the hell out of being a fucking junkie loser. Speaking of, a very old friend of mine, whom I thought I had lost to heroin, came back from the junked out beyond!  I’m having dinner with him and a mutual friend on Monday.

I can’t lie, I am a little afraid of the possible Jesus freak aspect, but then again, I completely understand where he is coming from. Some people really need that strong grounding and the only way they can get that is from a “higher power.” I’m not being a condescending asshole either, maybe if I wanted to lead a life of complete sobriety, I would need the help of a higher power, too. However, thus far, I have not chosen that lifestyle. Judge me if you must.

What I will not be doing is judging my friend. I am tickled pink to know that we have him back. After having two friends OD and die from that nasty drug and several others disappear into the nether, I’m overjoyed to see one of them beat it. At points, I thought it wasn't even possible to do, but my friend has been clean for years. YEARS!  Fuck yeah, dude! Fuck yeah!!  I can't wait to welcome him back <3

Om shanti.

Global Warming Is My Friend

Okay, yes, I see where global warming is probably causing serious irrevocable harm to the environment and, yes, I realize that we'll probably wipe out the human race with the effects, but DAMN DO I LOVE THIS WARM WEATHER!  I love it, my wallet loves it, the birds love it.  It is just a complete pleasure.  The forecast for the next couple of days is, as follows:

Today:  Sunny, 67|51
Tomorrow:  Sunny, 72|51
Sunday:  Mostly sunny, 72|51

Yes, yes, YES!!  This means I can open up my windows again and I can go bike riding both days this weekend and I don't have to concern myself with jackets and boots and being cold.  How wonderful!  This is the best November EVAR.

*kisses*

Thursday, November 5, 2009

USDA: Protect Calves from Abuse

The Humane Society of the United States recently documented shockingly cruel treatment of calves at a Vermont slaughter plant. The abuse was so terrible it led state and federal authorities to shut down the plant within days. I just took action to encourage the USDA to prevent this mistreatment from ever happening again and I hope you will, too. It will only take a minute. Here is the link:

https://secure.humanesociety.org/site/Advocacy?cmd=display&page=UserAction&id=4264




Wednesday, November 4, 2009

About Sex

Obligatory TMI Alert (as if the title wasn't enough notice)

In the past, I’ve had various friends tell me in a lovingly begrudging manner that I am the single most dirty-minded person that they have ever known. I took great pride in that characterization. I’ve been around and seen things and DONE things and boy did I have fun. *grins sunnily* Perhaps even enough fun to last a lifetime.... After Kenny and I started dating, I noticed that I wasn’t as libidinous as I once was. I suspected that I was settling down or that maybe the stress of my adult life was dampening my sex drive. That conceivably I wouldn’t fully experience my lusciously hedonistic sexuality any longer.

Please do not misunderstand me; the issue was not with Kenny as a partner. He is clearly an obscenely good-looking guy and not without talents of his own (he has seen and done some things himself). To be absolutely clear (for my own pleasure in recounting this), when we first got together, I would voluntarily, nay, joyfully wake up an hour earlier than I needed to in the morning just to watch Ken undress for his morning shower; then I would awake again, after his shower, to watch him dress for work (this is when he wore two-piece suits to his office and, man-oh-man, does that boy look good in a suit and tie). As a result of this, I was so often habitually late to work (sometimes 60 minutes tardy!) in the first several months that we were together that I actually received a disciplinary action for it–the only one I’ve ever gotten in my eight years at the firm.

After awhile, all of that seemed to cool from a red hot boil to a low simmer. I concluded that after you are with a person for a length of time, you just get comfortable. Things are good, but they aren’t brilliant, right? WRONG. It wasn’t that at all. It was the birth control I was taking that had done this to me (I had never taken BC, prior to dating Ken). Even though the BC was an ultra low dose of progesterone, it utterly decimated my libido. Since I had such a fantastically high sex drive originally, it simply appeared that mine had developed into the “average” sex drive that the majority of women ostensibly possess (or at least what most women are thought to have; I suspect that a lot of women want more orgasms and more sexual play–they just aren’t getting their needs met by their partners or otherwise, but I digress...)

In conclusion, now that I’m off the BC, my sex drive has come back WITH A VENGEANCE. It is awe-inspiring. I feel like I have the lascivious old me back and she is an absolutely delightful girl to be around. I’d give you more details, but it just wouldn’t be prudent ;)

Monday, November 2, 2009

To Do...

My life has been crazy town for the past week. Consequently, I haven't had the opportunity to post any substantive blogs. Nonetheless, I firmly intend to update my readers on all sorts of things in the very near future. I'm considering writing something about my sex life (which has been ooo-la-la!), a bit about my new inability to finish in-depth books (I've been reading the Upanishads for about 100 years or more and don't even get me started on my failings w/ The People's History of the US), also, I need to update you all on my mum's hand (there is a cage around it now and I’ve got photos to post of same), on my yoga practice (been obsessed with Sun Salutations and arm balances recently), on my new biking buddy and path (not what you might think on either account), how enjoyable Halloween was (roller coasters are super fast in the cold!), the reemergence of an old friend who has found Jesus (moan!) but overcome a terrible addiction (yay!) and a good deal more. Also, I promised Adrian a five-year update post, which I intend to do ASAP.

In the interim, I am keeping up with the salad thing at work. This week I am eating on a Romaine, baby portabella, cucumber, grape tomato, and freshly shaved Romano and Parmesan cheese salad. So scrumdiddlyumptious!